#rejected ideas for truths or lies that i nearly used:
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OC two truths and a lie
"choose an OC and make a 24 hour poll with two truths and one lie about them and see if people can guess the lie"
(thank you for tagging me @autumnfangirler >:3)
i shall be exposing my sidestep Ripley Hawthorn's secrets today, since he is so famously open with his emotions (<- lying)
psst. tell me what you voted for and why in the tags/replies if you want
(i challenge @b33tlejules @eggfullofbees , if y'all want to play :3c)
#my ocs#oc polls#fhr#fallen hero#ripley hawthorn#this was so fun. i can't wait to see what people think.#rejected ideas for truths or lies that i nearly used:#'about 95% of his problems would go away if he smoked weed'#'has watched every single Saw movie'#'in a universe where he wasn't born into the Torment Nexus he would've become a twitch streamer. his villainsona is just his vtuber design'#Jules and I may have coordinated about our polls. I will not tell anybody what this means#sidestep#fhr sidestep
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Did you really go on Poppy’s stream to harass her? Christ, it looks like your friends from Kiwi Farms are rubbing off on you. Did you really think that move would convince people you aren’t a vindictive and malicious ex?
So let me get this straight: you think that I went on their directly controlled gg site to "harass" them, where they would easily and quickly be able to ban me, and for the first and only message guaranteed to go through, I picked "oh hey am I somehow unblocked? lol" as the best way to hurt them in that moment?
Please, I am begging you to think about how absurd of an accusation that is. While I'm sure that they've made a convincing case in isolation for why I'm insane, I would hope that I haven't come across as completely fucking stupid.
Here, you can look at the whole clip yourself. See what I said. Does that seem like someone who's locked and loaded for some prime harassin' time?
lol
No, what happened was that I went to their GG site for the stream because I like being able to scroll through chat if I miss something. I noticed my old account was still accessible, so, being the silly little dipshit ball of chaos that I am most of the time, I typed what I typed and hit "send," fully expecting it to reject the message.
It did not, and I immediately regretted my actions to the level of shouting, "Oh no, oh NO! OH SHIT."
It was very funny, but not nearly as funny as watching Poppy try to navigate the moment live. "You don't get to be in my chat" was particularly good; I literally don't care. I have no use for their chat. What am I going to do, argue live with their fans who have absolutely no context or reason to listen to me? No.
There are a lot of people getting involved here who have no window into who I am or what my personality is beyond the text on this blog, so a lot of you don't know what a derpy little ball of chaos I can be. This was a chaos ball derp moment.
And honestly, aside from my posts on my own accounts, I’m confused as to what you’re calling “harassment.” Them calling this a harassment/hate campaign doesn’t make it one; it means they’re trying to stop anyone from looking at what I have to say.
I’ve actively, publicly pushed back against people using the g-word to describe her. I pushed back against the pedojacketing. I’ve corrected misinformation on other posts. I unpinned the “SFW Spaces” tweet as soon as I saw that they’d fixed their pre-roll.
As wild as it may sound from where you’re sitting, I’m actually a very reasonable person. I mean, do y'all still think this is fueled by breakup spite? Seriously?
Please hear me when I say this: my life as it stands now is better than it was when I was dating Poppy in literally every respect. Better environments, more empathetic and emotionally intelligent community leaders, better support, more intelligent conversations, no constant battles to defend something you like because Poppy wants to be act snobby and condescending about it, etc.
My darling partner and fellow "evil ex" @helavitrum and I strongly agree that we've both scored massive upgrades, and I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to reunite with other people looking for refuge after they see the rotten core of The Foundation for what it is. They’re people as good as PZ pretend to be and they’re looking for like-minded individuals, just like we are.
See, I recognize that the reason they're telling you that I'm just some crazy, obsessive, “psychotic” ex isn’t because they deliberately want to hide the truth; they see what I say as manipulation and lies because they literally do not recognize the harm they've done. What I'm doing doesn't make sense to them in any other way, so that's the translation they share with everyone else.
They have no idea what motivates me.
I mean, yes, I still get upset about the things they said and did, but not because it's still eating away at me or something; it's because they were incredibly shitty things that go against everything that PZ supposedly stand for, and they're continuing to perpetuate this harm against others who come to them for safety.
I get upset because I know so much more about the larger picture and how the behaviors you see in my account are only scratching the surface.
It’s okay, though. Genuinely, I mean this: I understand how you feel about me and I don’t begrudge you your feelings. I don’t think you’re a bad person for thinking these things. If I were in your shoes with just the information that you have available to you, I’d look at me like I was crazy, too.
But the thing is that you think you're protecting a "Lindsay Ellis.” You're not. You're protecting people more akin to iilluminaughtii. Or Lily Orchard.
If you genuinely care about the truth, you should read what I have to offer as far as evidence because, at the very least, I am providing evidence. Practically everything they've said about me (and others) has been their word with nothing else to back it up, uncontested by anyone else involved because their goal is not resolution or honesty; it's control.
And I don't just mean that you should read what I've already provided. I understand if that's not enough for you to understand what I'm doing.
I mean what's coming.
I can only present it, though. It's up to you to decide whether you want to form your own opinion or have it fed to you exclusively by the alleged abusers (and their inner circle).
Until then, I wish I could share more, but I can't because I don't want it spinning off into wild, out-of-control conjecture.
Unlike PZ, I respect the weight of what I've been entrusted with too much to mishandle it for the sake of saving face.
#zenaandpoppy#poppy and zena#also wtf is this kf noise#are they actually saying I'm a friend of KF now lmaooooo#I knew they'd do anything to prevent people from hearing me out but that's a new low
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'i forgive you' and 'don't bother'
aziraphale saying 'i forgive you' is haunting. there was so much that aziraphael wanted to say, but he couldn't; he wanted to tell crowley he loves him but he couldn't. instead, he says 'i forgive you'.
the fact that aziraphale lied to crowley to drive him away to keep him safe, it makes it more heartbreaking than i could ever put into words. that 'i forgive you' and how he shook in grief signified every bit of anguish about his choice. his resolve nearly got deterred by what crowley is revealing out of his desperation. he knew crowley and him loved each other, but with how life had gone, it was something they never acted on, never spoke about, never let the words be said.
everything that was left unsaid in those six thousand years broke like a dam in one swoop. the water is flooding and they are drowning. this wasn't the way they were supposed to part, there shouldn't have been a kiss, a confession. there were better times, in the future aziraphale wanted to fight for. but it came and he whispers, 'i forgive you' to crowley; for breaking that dam and letting the uncharted waters let lose into crashing waves. for letting them break evern further than they needed to, yearning and grieving for something they cannot have now.
aziraphale to me let out all those things he feels in three words: 'i forgive you, for letting us acknowledge all this love. i forgive you, for letting me know that its real. i forgive you, for letting me know what im losing in doing this, i forgive you, for having to do what ever it takes to love someone like me. i forgive you, for loving me through it all.'
but just as much, crowley's response is going to eat aziraphale alive. and crowley said those two words with walls as high as the eye can see. 'don't bother'; crowley at this moment is someone that allowed his heart to be as raw and transparent in that moment. he took a chance to say what he feels, the undoubted truth of his devoted love. in those many six thousand years, he kept himself unable to say the truth, unable to say those words back to the person he truly loves, the only one he truly really cares about.
the last he spoke about the truth, he was told that his words do not matter. his wonder, his questioning, his curiosity, his honesty, they do not matter. for all his truth, he was cast away and he was shunned. everything he put his heart on in that lifetime as an angel was rejected. for it, he was left unloved and cared for. those had forced his walls to be raised. he was unwilling to let himself say anymore words about the fullness of his truths ever again.
yet he did it in that moment, because he loved aziraphale. he wanted aziraphale to know the truth of how he felt. to say what has been long left unsaid. and he believed that aziraphale would understand, that aziraphale for all their time together would let what had been said be accepted. because aziraphale wasn't god, he wasn't like the metatron. aziraphale accepted him, he loves him, he cares for him.
crowley is saying, 'don't bother saying you forgive me for letting the truth be real, don't bother saying you forgive me for letting you acknowledge what you're gonna miss, don't bother saying you forgive me for not wanting to join you in changing things up there, don't bother saying you forgive me for trying to tell you i love you.'
these things are gonna be haunting them for a while, those words they said in that moment are going to be running through their heads unimpeded. because they love each other. because they're fighting for each other. and you can't help but feel for the two of them in that moment because they have such different speeds, different ideas, different directions but they share the devoted love. yet it is the differences hasn't bothered them before, it was always that love, the way they show that love that tears them apart. they don't have the same exactlys. that's why perhaps, there weren't any nightingales that sung in berkley square. because that nightingale can't sing two different songs for lovers.
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#aziraphale#crowley#azicrow#ineffable husbands#good omens meta
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It is true that people fantasise about situations they would reject in reality. Rape porn is the number one seller by women to women. It's also true that disfigured people are unable to get partners, which is why the lesbian who coined the phrase about herself invented it. c.f. "Alana's Involuntary Celibacy Project". Sorry, but "The Ghoul" is the least disfigured ghoul ever, and the reason is because they knew it would attract women. He's a man without a nose. Whoopdedoo.
In fact, "The Ghoul" could wear a prosthesis and pass for a normal citizen.
One in three people who have a facial disfigurement have suffered abuse in the street, a new survey has revealed.
Some 28 per cent of those with a visible difference have been shouted at and insulted while out in public and more than 70 per cent of those incidents went unreported.
... The troubling figures come after American television presenter Wendy Williams's apparent mocking of actor Joaquin Phoenix for a scar on his upper lip.
The idea that women won't select against you for physical imperfection is ludicrous. Yes, they will flick the bic to werewolf vore, but they marry the six foot plus dude with a six pack. And they will also argue they want the upper range of the six figure income to boot. https://archive.is/vc7dz https://link.springer.com/referenceworkentry/10.1007/978-3-319-16999-6_249-1
Telling men lies disempowers them. The harsh truth is a disfigured man will have his work cut out for him. Hell, most men go bald and that is routinely mocked by women. I had a friend go bald at 21 and he nearly committed suicide because suddenly every woman around him wanted nothing to do with him. Looking at the collapse of marriage rates, I don't see this changing. I see the Western Cultures as collapsing and being replaced by Islamic ones where women are mated off and their consent is irrelevant. However, if I am wrong, then women will start choosing disfigured men. Until then, Incels are perfectly correct to claim that they will be discriminated against, and mocking cripples for being crippled might feel good - but it is an evil act, and you should be aware of it.
youtube
Note: This is recognised as true to the point that the Australian Government launched a program to prevent male suicide, which occurred when the disabled men reached the age of majority, and realised they would never be married. Only men. The women could get married.
So the government launched a therapy program to help the men get used to a lifetime of involuntary celibacy. What a clumsy term; I wonder if there's a way to abbreviate it?
Note that female incels have rebranded as Femcels, and are praised for their rightous rejection of heteronormativity.
Being unattractive is good, akshually - so long as you are female.
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Turning
Isaiah 9.13—17 (ESV)
The people did not turn to Him who struck them, nor inquire of the LORD of hosts. So the LORD cut off from Israel head and tail, palm branch and reed in one day—the elder and honored man is the head, and the prophet who teaches lies is the tail; for those who guide this people have been leading them astray, and those who are guided by them are swallowed up. Therefore the Lord does not rejoice over their young men, and has no compassion on their fatherless and widows. For all this His anger has not turned away, and his hand is stretched out still.
I had turned to Isaiah 9.6 during the Christmas season, and then I kept reading. The prophet talks about judgment falling upon Israel because of their pride and arrogance. Enemies were sent against them but instead of turning to God, instead of repenting of their sins, they reacted with defiance. They shook their fist at God and declared that they would come back even stronger.
Sound familiar?
For all this His anger has not turned away, and His hand is stretched out still. --Isaiah 9.12 (ESV)
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that this nation has fallen under judgment. But have we repented? No. Instead of repenting and turning back to God, we have strayed even farther from God's Word.
We celebrate homosexuality, even though we know it is morally wrong. We encourage children to mutilate their bodies in an attempt to become something they're not. We violate the laws of nature and of nature's God in deliberate defiance of the Almighty. We shake our fist at God.
Oh, we try to persuade ourselves that we're doing these things in the name of 'equity' and 'inclusion'. Like the serpent in Eden, our leaders ask, 'Did God really say that?' And if we dare insist that He did, they tell us, 'But He didn't really mean that, did He? That's an outdated interpretation. It can't possibly be valid today.'
They show us images from the latest satellite telescope and defiantly pronounce that we are seeing the universe as it was nearly to the point of the Big Bang. Never mind that that theory was discredited long ago. Never mind that what they're telling us is nonsense. Never mind that most of what they're seeing is far beyond their understanding. If you pay close attention, you'll occasionally hear an honest astrophysicist admit that they have no idea what they're seeing out there.
Instead of believing God's inerrant Word, instead of turning back to God, instead of repenting of our lawlessness, we choose to follow those who are leading us astray. The Almighty God, upon whose Word this nation was founded, has withdrawn His protection, and His hand remains outstretched in judgment.
For those who guide this people have been leading them astray, and those who are guided by them are swallowed up. --Isaiah 9.16 (ESV)
We need to stop wallowing in lies. We need to shake off the deception. We need to turn back to our Creator, our God, repent of our foolishness and defiance, and beg His forgiveness.
There's an old hymn that speaks to our tendency to wander from the Lord: 'Prone to wander, Lord I feel it; prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, oh take and seal it; seal it for Thy courts above.'
Turning is a deliberate choice. Don't let those who are teaching lies lead you away from God and His Truth. Open your eyes and see the deception with which you are being bombarded! Then, with eyes wide open, return to your God. Cling to Him.
'This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.' --Acts 4.11-12 (ESV)
_________________________________________________________
A PERSONAL NOTE:
I must apologize for what must seem like a lack of diligence on my part. You see, my trusty old—emphasis on old—laptop had developed some serious problems, so I'd purchased a new one at half-price during Lenovo's Black Friday sale. I chose one that I was able to modify to get exactly the features I wanted, no more, no less. It arrived the week before Christmas, but I didn’t unpack it until later. The first order of business was to disentangle the claws of Big Tech from my machine, no easy task. Then I needed to learn a new word processor. (I'd been using Word97. Yes, you read that right!) All in all, it's been a steep learning curve for me. Thank you so much for your patience.
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not all who wander are lost.
summary. | He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering.
warnings. | Strangers to lovers, smut, naive reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, slight violence, slight dub/con, slight blasphemy, drinking, DD/LG, daddy kink, corruption kink, ring/hand kink, size kink, creampie kink, teasing, spanking, choking, spitting, manhandling, praise, male masturbation, handjob, degradation, a bit of humiliation, oral sex, virginity loss, marking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.
word count. | 11k
pairings. | Daddy!Destroyer!Chris x Little!Reader.
a/n. | one of the few fics inspired/based off of chemtrails over the country club. please heed the warnings and don’t forget to reblog. ily! thank you so much to @dragon-of-dreams @mypoisonedvine @tenuntilfightcall and everyone else for helping me out with some information! and thank you to my bb sara @asadmarveltrashbag for beta-ing and being there for me during this insane month, ilysm!!
The first time he laid eyes on you, was six months ago.
Meadows like the ones that surround him only exist in movies and Instagram posts. But even those need editing for perfection. Yet, the ones around him made him feel as though he has camera lenses for his eyes. Each piece of grass is a beautiful green, and some had flowers between them. His thighs may hurt but the view is a reward for all the trouble he just went through. A cute cottage lies on the hill he stands on. It resembles one from a Pinterest board but he doesn’t mind.
Birds chirp, sheep bleat, cows low and chickens cluck amongst Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of Summertime. Chris walks a few more steps and onto the porch he goes. This isn’t his destination. Well, technically, it is. But he isn’t supposed to be knocking on your door like he is now, and his heart shouldn’t be beating out of his chest. To the right of this cottage — Chris’s right — is another cottage.
It’s more modern than he’d prefer it to be. It only looks so because inside lives a drug lord who is on the run. It’s truly unfortunate his girlfriend sold him out for immunity. He knocks on the wooden door and takes a step back. Who knows what kind of person is behind it. “Coming!” your sweet voice calls. Chris doesn’t let go of his grip on his gun that’s down the waist of his pants.
Even the sweetest seeming things can always end up being sour.
You struggle not to trip over your own dress. The tail of it drags behind you and sweeps the floor, too. But it makes you feel just like a princess, so you don’t care. On your hip is a basket, and inside is Cotton. Your bunny. She’s been your company for years, and you don’t know what you’d do without her. Barely anyone visits anymore, only because cars can’t handle the long drive up and many people hate nature. But when the occasional knock on your door echoes throughout the house, you can barely keep your excitement inside.
You open the door and gasp. The man… is brooding. And he’s not the type of broody that would grumble insults under his breath or the type that would stalk people, either. He’s the dreamy type, the man your parents say is bad news when really he just needs love. You take in his form. You can tell he’s slightly tired and you just have to give him credit for walking up to your home. He has no flaws, except for the dirt that stains his clothing.
“Hi, do you live here?” the strange man asks, looking around the inside of your home. You jump and you’re not sure why but your skin raises with goosebumps. His voice is deep yet so soft-spoken. For some odd reason, his hand is reaching backwards and you assume that it’s because he has some sort of ache from the walk. You finally register his words and look up at him.
“Y- yes, do you live here?” you stupidly ask. You don’t even realize what you just said until you noticed his puzzled look. “Oh, sorry,” you look down and notice that his black boots are covered in pollen, something that can be oh so bothersome. “‘S’alright, I was hiking a- and I don’t have anywhere to go… Do you think you could let me stay here?” he asks, letting go of the gun. “Uhm, s- sure, what’s your name?” you ask him, moving out of the way.
Naive, so fucking naive.
“Chris, what’s yours?” he asks, stepping inside. You give him your name and he nods. He goes to wipe his shoes on the rug in front of the door but there is no rug. You hand him a rag and he gratefully takes him, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ “Are you a tourist?” you ask him, setting your basket down onto the floor. Cotton hops out of it and runs off to the kitchen, probably to chew on your apron. “No…” he solemnly answers. He hands you the rag back and you shyly take it.
“O- okay… Are you a photographer? I’ll tell you God’s truth, the most beautiful photos are taken when the sun rises, when it sets and when it’s raining,” you pointedly inform him. You drop the rag into your basket and turn back around, your dress spinning in a slight swirl. His eyes rake your body up and down, taking in every inch of your body. Red cloth with white polka dots covers your body and your mushroom earrings bring the entire outfit together. Chris has to assume that the heavens above or whatever the fuck else is there have handcrafted you to absolute perfection.
He’s never read any stories about Greek gods, but he knows that Zeus would be absolutely infatuated with you. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he makes eye contact with you, and he gives you a small smile.
“I’m not a photographer,” he clarifies, looking around. He can’t believe you let him in just like that, but the more he found, the more he understood why. A lonely, innocent little girl like you doesn’t have anyone to tell you right from wrong. “Then what are you, sir? Are you lost? I can call the Consulate if you’d like,” you offer, walking towards him. “I’m not lost… I’m a wanderer,” he whispers almost hesitatingly.
“But you only ever wander when you’re lost, no?” you confusingly ask him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before peering out of the window. Luckily, he has a direct view of the other cottage. He really did hit the jackpot. “Not all who wander are lost, little girl. Now tell me, why would you let a stranger inside your home?” he asks you.
Cotton hops from the kitchen to your bedroom, and you stand in place. “I… Well, I’m not sure. You didn’t give me any reason to not let you in or to make me believe you’re dangerous, sorry…” you shyly tell him. “Don’t apologize, just know that not everyone in this world is good. There’s always going to be someone with a little more darkness than the rest of us…”
Chris unzips his duffle bag, and you let out a giggle. “Quite ominous of you, but then again, it suits your whole aesthetic. The cool, bearded man, with his cool words,” you smile at him, but it carries a bit of sadness. “Treat this place as your own, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, I’m always here.”
Chris stays at the window for most of his days. Always with a pair of binoculars and a pack of saltine crackers. Sometimes, he pulls a juice bottle out of his duffle bag, You’ve countlessly offered him something that’s actually filling, such as angel cake and sandwiches. He rejects them all, and you wonder if he’s some sort of super-human. But technology hasn’t invented wireless technology yet, so it’s impossible.
“Uhm, Mr. Chris-Sir? I don’t think those crackers are good for you, they’re all you eat…” you sheepishly admit, carrying a cup of water to him. The mug has a little frog painted on it, but the green paint has chipped away over seven years. You set it down gently, onto the table next to him and Chris just stares out at the cottage. “Bird-watching is so cool, isn’t it? If you see a robin, let me know, they’re so beautiful,” you tell him, before walking off.
At first, he doesn’t take in your words. But once they’ve settled deep in his mind and sunk in, he realizes that you assume he’s bird-watching. He’d honestly take any other assumption, but at least you don’t know he’s spying on the criminal next door. He looks down at the table with a sigh and then notices what you’ve done. Not only did you set a cup of water down, but you also gave him two slices of toast. One has strawberry jam on it, and the other has melted butter.
His mouth surprisingly salivates, but it also doesn’t shock him. Every day he sits there, basking in the beautiful smell of your food and humming. His personal favourite is the smell of focaccia bread being baked. He watches and waits until you leave the room to go tend to the chickens. Apparently, one of them laid a few eggs. He quickly shovels the two slices of toast into his mouth and downs the glass of water like a starved man. Because he is one.
Cotton hopes around once again but all Chris sees is a fluffy white blur. He recalls his memories from when he was younger. Younger him always wanted a pet. Even a fish that would die in the span of two weeks would suffice. But his mom couldn’t afford it, so he dropped the idea. Sometimes, he wishes he had dropped other ideas, as well. Like the idea that he’d enjoy life as an undercover agent, or the idea of sacrificing himself for Erin.
His fingers are sticky with jam. He hates the feeling. He spreads his fingers out and goes to get up from his seat. “Shit,” he curses, realizing that something may happen while he’s away from the window. He stands there, contemplating whether or not he should risk his mission just to wash the fucking jam off of his stupid fucking hands. He calls your name, loudly, hoping you’ll hear him all the way outside the cottage.
“Is everything alright?” you shout, running inside the house. He didn’t expect that reaction, but he’ll take it. You’re holding onto the corner of two walls, slightly bent over. Your chest, your beautiful chest, is the first thing Chris lays his eyes on. He nearly chokes on his saliva, and he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. “Uh, hi, I need help,” he gruffly says, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He clears his throat with a loud ‘ahem’ and you begin to stand up straight, much to his dismay.
But he doesn’t think the image of your tits nearly falling out of your dress will leave his mind any time soon.
“Of course… Did you enjoy the toast? I can make you some more if you’d like,” you shyly offer him. “It was good, but I’m fine, thanks though. Can you stay here, right at the window, while I go wash my hands? If anything happens, you have to tell me.” Chris doesn’t leave any room for argument, but your curiosity and naivety get the best of you as always.
“What happens if I don’t tell you?” you ask him, walking towards the window. He blocks your path and suddenly personal space is no longer a thing you need. “You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do if you don’t, little girl,” he warns with a hint of lust in his tone. You nod your head and feel tingles bloom just above your core. You’re not sure whether they’re butterflies or those tingles.
Chris walks past you and you quickly rush to the window. You never realized how beautiful this view is until now. The sun is bright, angled in the most perfect manner so that it doesn’t shine directly in your eyes. The sky is so clear, even with the occasional fluffy cloud that always manages to look like some animal. The window blows gently, shaking the sheer curtains that frame you. You sigh and fold your arms, resting them on the windowsill.
You lay your head on your arms and stare out the window with joy filling your heart.
Chris watches you as you look out the window. You’re slightly bent over, once again. Your ass sticks out, and you subconsciously sway your hips side to side, almost purposefully teasing him. Your white dress has a few strings hanging from the hem, but it doesn’t make you look any less gorgeous. He feels like he’s in a dream.
Not only because of the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful woman in front of him but also because he’s trying his hardest to wash his hands quickly, but his movements are so slow. He looks down and rubs his hands together at a furious pace. Chris hears you gasp and he looks up. “Did you see something?” he asks you, turning off the sink.
“Yeah, my neighbour! I haven’t seen him in months, I need to go say hi,” you tell Chris, before rushing out the door. He only then registers your words once you’ve run out of the house and into the unknown. “Fuck- Wait!” he yells after you. He runs behind you and is so grateful when he notices you haven’t gone too far. But you’re still running and Chris’s target is about ten meters away, so he decides to do what he does best.
He decides to save you.
Chris’s feet hit the ground harshly, crushing the flowers beneath him. Running in socks isn’t fun, but at least he has something to protect him. He calls your name and crashes into you with all the force in his body. You both go down and hit the ground from his fierce tackling technique. You go to cry out in pain and lose your mind, but Chris clams his hand over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. You’re not hurt, okay? I’m sorry I had to do that, but you can’t go running off like that,” he lectures, throwing his right leg over your body. He frames you down, and you don’t have much room to move. You’re frozen in place, chest heaving, and you furrow your eyebrows at his words.
“Listen, I need you to listen. You may not know me and I may not know you, but when I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen. Understood?” he chastised with a harsh tone. You nod meekly, like a little kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “And just so you know, that sweet neighbour of yours over there is wanted by the Feds.” Chris looks over his shoulder and doesn’t see the man there anymore, so he begrudgingly climbs off of your body.
You gulp thickly, out of fear and nervousness. Chris doesn’t seem to want to add on to this newfound information, so your anxiety makes work of it. For all you know, your neighbour could be a murderer. Chris senses your nervousness and gives you a pat on the head, almost as if you’re his pet.
Unbeknownst to you, the sight of you under him, helpless and with his hand clamped over your mouth is something that gets his blood (and hand) pumping. He helps you up, and you don’t even realize it until he brushes some dandelion seeds out of your hair. “Thank you… and thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” you shyly speak to him. He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding an old cigarette from before he quit.
“‘S’alright, I just need a few things from you,” he gruffly reassured. “O- Of course, anything for my guest and for the man who saved my life,” you beam with a small giggle punctuating your words. He basks in it, almost as though it’s sunlight over a beach. “Ah, you flatter me. Just tell me about yourself, I’m going to be staying for a while,” he says as he turns around to walk back inside.
A bottle of gin is in Chris’s hands. The colourless yet pale yellow liquid swishes inside its rightful bottle. It’s half full, only because last night, he downed the rest. He hasn’t drunk in a while. Since he got over being left for dead. And that’s only six months ago.
He’s shirtless. Only left in his grey jeans and jewelry. His rings clink against the glass bottle and his bracelets hang a little past his wrist. The gunshot wound on his left side had a faint scar on it. He hates it. Every single time he stares in the mirror, that fucking scar just stares back at him.
His father told him it makes him seem more ‘manly’, but it just feels like a point of weakness. Maybe if he was a little quicker, he would’ve saved that bank teller. He would’ve gotten Silas behind bars. He would’ve been able to be proud of himself.
Chris groans at the memories and spins the cap off of the bottle. It flies somewhere across the room, probably hitting one of the wood walls. He mumbles a ‘fucking hell’ and brings the bottle to his lips. The last time he drank like this was three months ago, and he ended up fucking the bartender.
She was bent over the counter, her tits spilled out of her bra and his cock pummeled into her sloppily.
She ended up kicking him out after they were done.
Chris groans again and sits down on the bed, kicking his legs up. His pants are stained with the pigment of dandelions and grass. The splotchy stains are juxtaposed to the grey of his old jeans. They have wear and tear all over them, but he doesn’t care.
Every now and then, he sighs — he sighs quite deeply. The puffs of air come from deep inside his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking back to earlier today. He smiles to himself, recalling the way you looked so innocent beneath him.
He’s only known you for a few days, and he already has lewd thoughts for you. Fuck. He just can’t help himself, though. Especially with your innocent doe eyes and pretty little dresses. He closes his eyes slowly, using that memory to fuel his much-needed mental images.
You’re beneath him once again, but you’re naked. His hand is wrapped around your throat, and he’s naked too. His cock is slowly driving in and out of you. He’s teasing you. Your pulsating, wet walls hug his fat cock, and you’re both moaning softly.
“Daddy…” you whisper to him, clenching around his cock. “What’s wrong, baby?” he softly asks you. “Please fuck me harder, please, Daddy,” you beg to him, before biting down onto your bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll be able to take my cock like that, baby,” he shakes his head.
“I can take it, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”
Chris opens his eyes and his right hand has found its way down his boxers. His cock is all swollen and hard, hard as a rock. He places the bottle of gin down on the bedside table and gets himself all comfortable. Chris slowly begins to stroke himself gently. He goes from the base all the way to the top, and then back down. His thumb occasionally swipes against his leaking tip and all he can think of is teaching you how to make him — your Daddy — feel good.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans, feeling a vein throat against his hand. He moans your name and speeds up his movements. His fingers are slightly sticky, but it’s the type of sticky he doesn’t mind. He begins to slow his hand down, and he sighs, not wanting to come just yet. He hasn’t been this hard in ages, and touching himself feels so fucking good.
“Did you say my name? Is everything alright?” you ask, barging into his room. He jumps and his hand flies out of his pants. You both stare at each other, not even daring to blink. You eventually break eye contact and notice the bottle of gin sitting on the bedside table. There’s only a sixth of it left, and you frown. You don’t like it when people you care about drink. “Uhm…” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and then takes in your form.
You’re in a nightgown, and it’s sheer as fuck. The gin gets to him and his mind has a slight buzz to it. His heart beats rapidly and his cock throbs with want and need. Chris’s eyes rake up and down your body like how they usually do whenever you’re in front of him. His mother would scold him for ogling at you, but he just doesn’t care anymore.
“I- I am so so so sorry, I should’ve knocked. I just thought you needed help with something because I heard you say my name, but sometimes I just tend to hear random things, so sorry,” you apologize in a panicking manner. You slowly walk back to the door, but you don’t turn around. Your bare feet leave a faint imprint on the floor from the cold sweats that have taken over your body.
“Come back here,” he orders, sitting up on the bed. Chris’s unbuckled belt clanks quietly, and he begins to remove it in one quick motion. You gulp thickly and exhale shakily. You slowly walk to where Chris is sitting, and he pats the spot next to him. You’ve never had such an interaction with anyone, ever. You sit down next to him, but you keep your distance.
Alcohol should not be called alcohol in Chris’s utmost humble opinion. No, it should just stick to its nickname ‘liquid courage’ because it’s more accurate than anything else. He may not seem like it, but he’s just a man who doesn’t have the heart to do much. Adrenaline doesn’t exist for him anymore, not since the incident.
Chris turns his head and stares at your pretty face. You look down, unable to make eye contact with such a God-like man. You have to assume that even Apollo is envious of Chris’s beauty. “How’d you hear me? Because I know these walls aren’t thin enough, and I know I wasn’t being loud, so tell me; How’d you hear me?” he interrogates you like one of Silas’s companions, but this time is slightly different.
Lust is what’s pumping through his veins, not rage.
“Uhm, well… My room was right there, and I wasn’t doing anything but thinking, and since your bed is against the wall, I- I heard you say my name,” you explain shyly. He hums, and you’re not sure whether it’s a hum of delight or disbelief. “Thinking of what?” he presses, inching his body closer to yours.
You continue to stare at his hand, even though you can feel his heavy breathing against your face. “I… Well- I was uh,” you stutter embarrassingly, and it makes you burn up with shame. “Spit it out, little girl, and don’t think of lying to me,” he growls, placing his hand on your thigh. Your gaze follows his movements, and you take in the set of rings that adorn his fingers.
They’re all black and of similar styles. One has a skull, one is completely plain, one has a cross on it and the last one has the word ‘Daddy’ engraved on it. His veins are so prominent. They bulge out with intensity, and you’d just love to trail your fingers along each of them. “Am I going to have to force an answer out of you?” he roughly asks. His other hand goes to the back of your head and he brings your gaze to his face.
You quickly shake your head in objection, and he raises his eyebrows for you to spit your answer out. “I was thinking about you, and the way you tackled me…” you admit to him in a low and soft voice. “You liked the way I was on you, little girl?” he asks, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “Y- Yeah, made me feel all… Tingly…” you whisper to him.
“I want to hear you say it, little girl,” Chris ushers, squeezing the back of your neck slightly. “I liked the way you were on top of me…” you tell him breathlessly. “Good girl,” he praises in a slightly deep voice. He pulls you onto his lap and you gasp. His hard, wanting cock is right under your thighs, and you exhale nervously.
“You feel that, little girl? That’s all because of you, you did this to me. And you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Got me so fucking hard just because of you.” Chris squeezes your waist, and you really can feel it all. He’s not wrong, either. You’re so proud that you’ve made a man like him so desperate for you. “Do you know what I was doing, little girl? I was jerking off to the thought of fucking that cunny of yours until you’re begging me to stop,” he growls in your ear.
You moan softly, and the picture comes to mind, making your pussy gush with want. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, placing his hand on your inner thigh. You nod, and he raises his eyebrows in warning again. “Yeah, I want that so bad,” you murmur to him. You and your pussy want him so bad. Chris’s hand inches further up your thighs until he’s just an inch away from your bare pussy.
Your thighs are already slightly sticky from your arousal. “Do you know what jerking off is, little girl?” he asks, pulling his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a pathetic, child-like whine, and he begins to lift up your nightgown until he sees your naked body. “Kind of… Isn’t that when a man touches himself? Like how women touch their… down there?” you innocently ask him.
Chris chuckles at how cute you are. So innocent yet oh so slutty. “Have you ever touched yourself, little girl?” he asks, lifting the nightgown over your head. It’s strewn across the floor behind you, and neither of you cares. But you quickly use your hands to cover your most precious, most private parts. “No, no, I don’t want to see any of that. You���re so beautiful, baby, you’re built like an absolute angel,” he husks, and you feel so flustered that you can’t help but giggle.
“T- Thank you… And I’ve done it a few times,” you inform him. Chris nods and smirks, catching the way your nipples have pebbled up. “Have you ever made someone feel good before?” he questions, trailing his broad hands up and down your body. “N- No, it’s pretty lonely up here…” you almost-ashamedly admit. He coos at you. “Do you want me to teach you how to make me feel good, little girl?” he questions, palming your tits.
You moan softly and rub your thighs together as he pinches and pulls at your hard nipples. You’re so small in his large hands, it makes him even harder. You nod your head fervently, wanting to make Chris feel so fucking good. Chris takes his hands away from your body and shifts you in his lap. He reaches down his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers.
You gasp, having never seen something as big as that. He smirks and uses his right hand to grasp the base of his thick cock. Chris brings your dominant hand down to where his cock is and guides you to wrap your fingers around him. Chris shudders at your soft touch, and he moans softly. “Good girl, yeah,” he praises. “Wrap your hand around me a bit tighter, baby,” he urges, and you do exactly that.
He groans loudly and a small smile stretches across your lips. “N- Now, you’ve got to move your hand up and down. Start off slowly, go all the way to the tip, and then back down,” he instructs, even though he’s helping you out. His hand brings yours all the way to the tip, and then back down; just like he said. His hand leaves yours and goes back to feeling up your pretty body.
“Now do it by yourself, but in a twisting motion, little girl.”
You listen to his words and jerk him off, feeling yourself get wet as his cock twitches in your hand. Your clit throbs and so do the veins on the side of his shaft. Chris curses, and you bite down on your bottom lip. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good around me,” he moans, squeezing your waist. You focus on his cock, watching as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down the side of his dick.
It drips onto your slow-moving hand, and you exhale as your movements grow a bit faster. You look at him, watching as his pupils darken with lust. You can tell — it’s written on his face — he wants you to go faster. Your hand speeds up around his cock, making him a moaning mess. “Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. You like making me feel good, don’t you? So eager to please like the good little girl you are,” Chris husks.
His praise goes straight to your needy cunt and he knows this because he can just tell. Your thighs rub together, your breath hitches, you let out a giggle and squeeze a little tighter around his cock. Chris’s hand goes up to your head and smashes your lips against his. You both moan into the kiss, and you straddle both his thighs to get more comfortable.
You place your other hand on his cock and mimic your dominant hand’s movements. You try to keep up with the kiss, but you just can’t. Teeth clash and so do tongues as Chris moves his mouth against yours. He pants and his chest heaves as you continue to stroke him. “Go faster, baby,” he urges, and he pulls his mouth away from yours. He can feel you soaking his jeans, your wetness joining the abundant amount of rips and tears in the material.
Your hand moves faster, twisting perfectly and occasionally squeezing his most sensitive spots as well. Chris pushes your hands away abruptly, and you’re confused. Did you do something wrong? Does he not like you anymore? What happened? “Shit, wrap your mouth around the tip, little girl. Trust me, you’re gonna fucking love it,” he says, and you quickly do so.
You’ll do anything to please him. His mushroom tip is leaking and a raging red. It’s the same red as the rest of his cock, and you could swear it’s almost purplish. You can tell he’s aching because you’ve been through a similar thing. You drop down to the floor and kneel in front of Chris. Your lips smooth around the tip of his hard cock, and you can taste him as soon as he hits your tongue.
He tastes of musk and manliness, along with a hint of saltiness, and it’s oh so addicting. You keep the tip of his cock in your mouth like it’s one of your favourite lollipops and smile around him. Chris smiles and wraps his hand around himself. He jerks himself off quickly, desperate to come in your mouth. “Fucking shit– god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” Chris rasps as he reaches his climax.,
His balls tighten up and his blue eyes roll back into his skull. White, hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip and fill your mouth. You’re not sure why, but a moan escapes past your throat, and it only makes Chris’s high much better. Chris places both hands on the sides of your head and holds you there, gently. You swallow all his cum as it fills your mouth and leaks from the corners of your lips.
Chris so desperately wants to push your head farther down his cock, but he knows he shouldn’t. Plus, there’s always going to be more time for things like that. He pulls your head away from his cock and watches as a string of saliva tries to keep the two of you connected. You gently lick your lips, still savouring his taste and he smiles down at you. You can’t lie — you feel giddy. Giddy in a way in which you crave his praise and approval like no other.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Thank you for helping me out… I do suppose I should return the favour, right?” he teasingly says, lifting you up into his lap. You shake your head out of nervousness. “No? … Why not, baby?” Chris asks, and you gulp thickly. “Don’t wanna rush it… I- never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” you look down and fiddle with your fingers.
The grooves of your nails are smoothed over by your pointer finger. Some dips and rises make you cringe, and others satisfy you. He looks down at your hands and notices the skin picked on the sides. He knows how painful those can be, and he doesn’t want you to feel any pain at all. “I’ll try to understand, darling, but if you don’t tell me, then I’ll be completely clueless,” he speaks to you lowly. “I like the way your words make me feel…” you shyly admit to him.
“Aw, how do they make you feel, baby?” Chris presses, grasping your two hands together. “All warm and small… makes me feel like I have it all. Hey, that rhymes!” you exclaim, bubbling in the utmost adorable giggles ever. “You’re a natural poet, darling. But tell me more…” he urges, rubbing his coarse thumbs against your soft skin. “I get butterflies, and I feel all shy and safe. Your words make me so comfortable yet so vulnerable…” you describe to him even though words can’t describe what you feel.
“Is that right, baby? You’re so cute… Do you- Do you get all tingly and babyish when I use my words?” Chris hesitatingly asks. His voice is so gentle and soft, a low whisper that is so soothing to your ears and rough edges. You nod meekly and smile to yourself. Your cheeks may hurt from all the laughter he caused earlier today but that doesn’t refrain you from hiding your smile.
Now, Chris is no doctor. He’s no professional, he’s no master. He’s just a broken man, but he knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he won’t explain what it is, because he needs you to learn on your own. Maybe with some guidance from him, but he won’t trick you into thinking something completely off base.
“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll sleep, you need the rest. We both do.”
He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering. But he isn’t. He was never. The stick-and-poke tattoo may seem a bit much, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. Your name is written in your pretty handwriting. The ink is in his skin, and he’s practically marked as yours, now.
The days go by slower, much slower than he’d like them to. But it doesn’t matter now, because his mission is over, and he’ll be leaving soon. But Chris doesn’t want to leave. His wanderlust has found an end as he finally has a place where he’s meant to be. He’s found heaven in the hills, and between your legs.
“D- Daddy…” you whisper under your breath, loud enough for him to hear. Your hands are locked with his, and they rest at your sides. You’re just in a small bralette, and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders and your ankles lace together behind his head. Your neck aches from the angle your body is in, but the pleasure blooming from your core is much more powerful.
Chris is between your legs, and he hums against your wet, throbbing pussy. You moan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling. He sucks on your clit harshly, and wetness seeps from your hole. “Feels so good… Oh, my…” you pant. Your hips gyrate and you subconsciously grind your wet cunt against Chris’s face. He pulls his face away from your pussy and licks a broad stripe against you.
You moan again and squeeze his hands tighter. His tongue swirls around your swollen and throbbing clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your taste is addictive, and he could stay between your legs for hours on end, if not for eternities. His beautiful, lovely rings dig into the sides of your fingers, but you don’t care. Chris may treat you like a delicate doll, but he should know how much you love it when he’s rough with you.
“I think I’m gonna come, Daddy…” you cry out to him before a strangled moan leaves your mouth. Chris pulls away from your pussy once again, but this time he spits on your lips. His saliva drops down your cunt and mixes with your wetness, and he goes back to devouring you. He eats you out like a starved man, and you’re squealing at the overwhelming pleasure.
If he was on death row, he’d have your sweet pussy as his last meal.
His tongue works over your clit and brings you closer and closer to your release. It’s coming fast. A searing, heated feeling takes over your body and abdomen as your back arches off your couch. Chris is as hard as a rock, staring you directly in the eyes, and he makes you come on his mouth.
“Oh- Daddy!” you cry out loudly, your mouth falling open into a silent, voiceless scream. Your eyes roll back into your skull and in Chris’s past words, you look like a brain-dead slut. Your wetness gushes out of your drooling hole, and he laps it all up with no problem. He drinks up everything you give him, and then some. Your hands are still laced with his and your chest rises and falls at a fast pace.
“Shh… You did amazing, little one. Taste so fucking sweet, just like nectar,” he hums like a hummingbird, before smacking his lips. You slowly come down from your high as he strokes your hands with his thumbs. Your lids are slightly heavy, but you don’t want to get any shut-eye. Time away from Chris is practically a sin in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you gratefully reply.
“You’re welcome, little one. Got me so hard,” he husks as he moves to get up. He carefully handles your body and pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. They’ve been washed and scrubbed but there are still faint dandelion and pollen stains that he just doesn’t care enough about. Though the adorable face you were making whilst washing them is something that’ll never leave his mind.
Just like the mental image of you coming undone beneath him.
“Can I make you feel good, Daddy? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly and Chris knows he could say yes, but he doesn’t want to. Making you feel good pleases him, but he doesn’t want to sound so poetic so he chuckles. “Soon, little one, I need to clean you up properly,” he tells you and you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. He coos at you and you scrunch your nose up at the attention.
“But I’m all clean, Daddy!” you reason, reaching over to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Chris chokes on his saliva at the feeling of your touch. “In a bit, little one, you need to listen to Daddy. Okay?” he rasps with a warning in his voice. “Okay, Dada…” you trail off with a deep sigh punctuating your sentence. You fiddle with your fingers as Chris carefully cleans up your pussy.
The damp washcloth is gentle against your sensitive skin. Each movement of his is carried by gentleness and love. “I have a question, Daddy,” you hum after a few seconds of silence. “Go ahead, mushy one,” he says with a smile. You giggle at the nickname before calming yourself down. “Were you really wandering?” you bluntly ask him. Chris’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and you gasp.
“What do you mean, little one?” he asks, looking up at you. “Well… You said you were a wanderer! And that’s how you found me! But you don’t seem like a wanderer, you’re too clever to be one,” you explain with a smile on your face. Chris begins to chew on the inside of his cheek, and the skin has already been filled with bite marks and scars. At this point, he should tell you, right? You already know the deepest, most darkest pieces and part of him.
You’ll love him no matter what.
“Well, I wasn’t wandering. You’re so smart, little one. The smartest baby in the world!” he cheers and moves to get up. He sits in the empty spot next to you and lifts you into his lap. You’re still naked and Chris has his shirt off (as usual), so the skin-on-skin contact has you feeling even sleepier. “Sometimes, we lie to protect people. I lied, to protect you, along with many other people. Myself included, of course,” he starts.
“I was sent here with the sole purpose of bringing in your criminal neighbour,” he pauses “and I did.” You nod along with his words, your mind only allowing the most important phrases to sink in. “I arrested him around a month ago, and I was supposed to leave three weeks ago,” he sadly sighs. You look up in a panic, and you’re in shock. “Two weeks ago, I turned in my resignation. I’m not going anywhere,” he quickly adds and your face lights up.
“I’m staying with my best girl, okay?” Chris smiles and leans in to kiss you. You let him do so because God-damn, you’d let him do anything he wants to you. “T- Thank you so much, Daddy!” you squeal and hug him tightly. He laughs in a beautiful cacophony of sounds, and it’s right in your ear.
Chris feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders as you writhe around in his arms. You wiggle around on his hard cock and Chris suppresses a groan. His hands trail from your shoulders to your waist, down to your hips. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and excitement runs in your veins at his touch. Your head rolls back and you exhale shakily. He grips your hips tightly, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his crotch.
Both you and Chris moan before he moves both his hands to your ass. He gropes you roughly, feeling a bit of your wetness on his fingers. “Oh, baby… What’s all that for? Hm? Didn���t Daddy just eat your sweet little pussy out?” he asks in a slightly worried tone. “Y- Yeah… But I can’t help it, Daddy, you always make me so tingly…” you admit to him, shyly.
“Mmm, I like knowing I do this to you. Gets me so fucking hard,” he groans, slapping your ass. You yelp in surprise, but it gets cut off by a whimper. Chris caresses the hit skin and soothes you down from the shock. He smiles at you and then lands another hit. Then another, and then another.
The sting is addictive, just like he is. It leaves you writhing in both pain and pleasure and yet you still want more. “M- more, please,” you quietly beg and Chris coos at you as if you're a pet. And the truth isn’t far off. The coolness of his rings is both brutal and comforting. It soothes you yet acts as if they didn’t just hurt you. “You want more, baby?” he asks in that sweet yet sultry condescending tone of his.
You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. “‘S too bad you’re gonna have to take what I give you and keep quiet, baby,” he husks, and you whine loudly. Chris flips your bodies around and suddenly you’re on your back, and he’s leaning over you. He locks lips with you and you try your hardest to keep up with the kiss.
His lips move sloppily against yours, but you don’t mind because you’ll take anything he gives you. You moan into true kiss and Chris wedges his knee between your legs. You’d hump him like a bunny because that’s what the demon on your shoulder is telling you to do. But the last time you did something without his permission, you weren’t allowed to make him come for a week.
You just know you’re soaking his jeans but neither of you cares. Chris kisses the corner of your mouth and trails down to your neck, peppering kisses behind as if he’s leaving a trail on your body for when he’s going to explore you later. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw tickles you and Chris falls even more in love with you as your laughter fills the air.
“D- Dada…” you whisper to him as you tilt your head back. His lips land on that sweet spot of yours and your back arches off the couch. Chris smiles against your skin and begins to suck on that sweet spot. Your breath hitches as he bites, licks and sucks on your skin. He marks you up like no other, and you know how much he loves to know that you’re all his.
“Dada… No teasing, please,” you sweetly ask in your soft tone. And how can he turn you down? “In a bit, little girl, be patient for Daddy.” Chris continues to mark you up until he’s satisfied. The feeling of his teeth against your neck and collar bones makes you even wetter than you already are. Possessiveness is carried in his movements, and it only drives you to be needier.
Chris moves further down from your collar bones to the valley of your breasts. Each curve of yours makes him want to sin without any repentance afterwards. He places a kiss there and then looks up at you. “Please, Daddy,” you whisper so quietly it takes him a few seconds to realize what you’ve said. Chris’s hand wraps around your body to your back.
He slowly unclasps your bralette and drags it away from your body at the same pace. You both maintain eye contact all whilst he undresses you to your vulnerability. Chris throws your bra somewhere behind him and places his hands on your body. “Aw, baby… You’re so cute and small,” he sweetly says in an almost shocking manner. Almost as if he doesn't use the size difference as a weapon to make you all soft and mushy.
“Hm, thank you, Daddy,” you tell him because good girls always have manners. “So good, using your manners for Daddy,” he praises, and you wonder if he can read your mind. Your Daddy can do anything, so it would be no surprise if he can. Chris sits upon his knees, but he remains in his towering position. Gently, and with care, he spreads your legs open until he’s satisfied.
He watches as you clench your needy pussy. He just knows your clit is throbbing, and you’re tingly because he just has that effect on you. “Poor baby… Is this all for Daddy?” he asks, and you quickly nod. “Say it, tell me it’s all because of me,” he growls placing his hands on your thighs. Chris slowly moves his hands further down your thighs. His touch is gentle, and he can feel the goosebumps on your thighs beginning to raise.
“‘S all yours, daddy. It’s all because of you,” you tell him breathlessly. “And this pussy is all mine, isn’t it, little girl?” he asks, inching closer to your wet pussy. “Mhm, only yours, Daddy!” you happily assure him, and he smirks at you. “That’s right, little girl. And since it’s all mine, doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want with it?” he questions, and you nod with no hesitance at all.
Chris traces your wet pussy with his ring-donned pointer finger. “Oh my…” you gasp at the feeling. It may not be much, but your sensitive little pussy struggles to handle it. You clench around nothing again, and he watches, before chuckling at you. “Such a pretty pussy you have, baby, I can’t fucking wait to ruin it,” Chris growls, and you whimper. “Gonna fill you up with my cum after I fuck you, little girl,” he promises, and you never wanted to be fucked so badly until now.
He wonders if his cock could even fit inside you. Usually, he’d want to eat you out and finger you to prepare you. But he’s now thinking with what’s between his legs, and not what’s between his ears. He trails that same pointer finger on your pussy, and becomes mesmerized with the sight. Chris watches as your hole drools with want and need, whilst you watch him.
His already dark eyes are blown out with lust, and it only turns you on even more. Chris knows you’re watching him. He’s not one of the best agents in the FBI for no reason. He looks up at you, and you lock eyes with each other. He smirks and pulls his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a whine, but you still pout in disappointment. Chris begins to unbuckle his pants, and you’re filled with eagerness.
You smile widely, and he coos. “Aw, you’re such a desperate little slut, it’s adorable,” he chuckles, and you shy away. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers slowly. Chris takes off his jeans and boxers completely, and throws them somewhere around the house. You watch as his cock bounces up and leaks with pre-cum. You just know he’s aching because of how red his cock is.
He’s big, and you already know that. But seeing him in all his naked glory is just something else. The simple yet not so simple idea of Chris’s cock being inside of you is electrifying. It’s both terrifying and exciting. He grabs the base of his cock and the prickly hair pokes the soft skin of his hands, but he doesn’t care. His left hand goes back to your pussy, and begins to rub circles on your clit.
“Oh… Daddy,” you moan quietly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, so you involuntarily try to shut your legs and keep Chris out. Your knees touch for a brief moment, and he’s having none of that. He separates your legs and climbs on top of you, all while staring you directly in the eyes. His cock drags against your inner thigh. “Oh, is it too much for you, little one?” he asks with faux pity in his tone. You nod and clench your fists to control yourself.
“Too fucking bad, you’re gonna take whatever I give you, and you’re not gonna complain. Isn’t that right, little girl?” he sneers, and you gasp. Usually, you can’t handle someone who raises their voice in the slightest. But hearing Chris do it makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. “Yes, Daddy,” you hum delightfully, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. Chris presses harder on your sensitive pearl of nerves and rubs you in faster circles.
“Daddy…” You moan and it goes straight to his cock. He looks up at you and just knows you’re beginning to drive up that cliff. He slows down his ministrations on your nub, and you bite back a loud whine. “You’re so needy, baby… Already so close to coming, it’s kind of pathetic…” he trails off and more wetness leaks out of you. You’re absolutely soaked and are a little bit ashamed of it.
“Please, Daddy! I’m so close, I’ll do anything,” you beg, but he just doesn’t buy it. “You’ll already do anything I tell you, baby, begging is so useless,” Chris chortles. You let out a small huff and move your hips in a circle, grinding against his thumb. In a flash of blurry moments, Chris pulls his hand away from your pussy and wraps around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, and you gasp quite loudly.
He raises his eyebrow in warning, and you nod in understanding. “Good girl, I don’t want to put you over my knee when I’m feeling so gracious,” he assures, and you smile. Chris brings the tip of his cock to your swollen, needy clit and his pre-cum begins to mix with your wetness. You both moan softly as he rubs his tip on your clit. Your bottom lip finds a home between your teeth and Chris’s tongue swipes over his.
The sight and feeling of his cock on your silky pussy make him so weak in the knees. “Fuck, baby, do you like that? You like it when Daddy makes you feel good with his cock?” Chris asks in a deep, gravelly voice. “Yeah, Daddy… love it so much…” you tell him through a mushy haze of pleasure.
“You’re getting all dumb and stupid already? You’re so cute, little one,” he purrs, and you giggle at his words even though there’s nothing funny about them. “Do you want my cock, little baby? Say it, tell Daddy you want his cock,” he urges, and you look down to where you’re both nearly connected.
“I wan’ your cock, Daddy. Want it so bad, I need it, Daddy,” you beg, and Chris hums. “Just a little more, little girl, it’s like music to my ears,” he smirks, and you bite your bottom lip. “Sing for me, hummingbird,” he pushes, and you just go with whatever your neediness tells you to do.
“I wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy. I want your cum to fill me up until I’m leaking and all stupid. Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I really want your cock, I need it,” you beg and blood rushes to his face and cock. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you my fucking cock, and you better take it like the good girl you are,” he growls, and you whimper. Chris slowly drags the fat tip of his shaft down to your drooling, slutty hole.
You whimper loudly, and he looks back at you. Fear is written all over that pretty face of yours, and Chris knows the exact reason why. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle, okay? If you want to stop just say so, and I’ll listen. I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise,” he gently reassures you. You sigh with an almost heavy yet full heart.
You then nod and Chris thanks you for allowing him to fully make you his. “Wanna hold your hand, Dada… Please,” you ask pleasantly, and he nods. “In a bit, little girl, I just need to be careful,” he whispers. Chris slowly begins to push into your wet, tight cunt. You swallow him slowly, and the sight is mesmerizing.
The tightness of your cunt squeezes him in a strong hug, and he wishes he could be buried deep inside you for the rest of his life. “Fuck- Baby, you feeling so fucking good,” he moans while trying to compose himself. You’re still whimpering from the pain, and your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace.
“C- Can I push all the way in, little one? It’ll only hurt for a bit,” he asks, and he looks deep into your eyes. “Mhm… Wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy, please,” you beg, and Chris tries his hardest not to come right here, right now. He thrusts his hips forward, and bottoms out inside you completely.
Your mouth falls open, and you’re silently screaming. The pain isn’t too much, but you feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you. Chris shifts a bit, and that’s when you start to feel it more. He’s so deep inside you, and he’s splitting you in two. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says.
You realize you’re holding your breath and it’s no wonder why your heart was beating out of your chest. “You’re doing so- so well, darling. Your little cunny looks so nice when it’s stuffed full with my cock,” he groans, and you whimper. “Dada, is hurtin’...” you whisper, and Chris wants to pull out because he can’t stand the thought of his little girl being hurt.
“Do you want me to stop, little one?” he asks, but you quickly shake your head in objection. Even though the pressure in your core is dwindling, and even though you feel a little too full, you don’t want him to stop. “No stopping, Daddy, please,” you whine and flail your arms towards him. He shushes you soothingly, and you calm down as soon as he flashes a stern look.
The pain soon burns away into nothing but dust and ash, and you finally see why he was so desperate to shove his cock inside of your cunt. It turns into pleasure and your pussy leaks around him. You’re soaking Chris’s cock with no shame at all. “Oh, fuck, baby… You feel so fucking good,” he moans, and you follow with a gasp. “I like the way y- you feel inside me, Daddy, makes me all tingly…” you admit shyly, and Chris chuckles.
“Yeah? Bet it makes you want to be fucked stupid, right, baby?” he questions with a playful smirk on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. You’re never aware of your surroundings because you’re too caught up in the moments. It’s something Chris scolds you for, but you never learn. But in this moment, you can feel everything. The veins on his cock throb against your silky walls, and you can feel his balls against your ass. His hot breath fans over you as Chris struggles to compose himself.
He slowly drags his hips backwards, pulling out of your pussy until his tip is the only thing in your cunt. The sudden almost-emptiness is surprising, but you quickly get used to it. Chris then pushes back into your pussy, and you moan loudly. “Fucking hell, little one,” he curses under his breath as he bottoms out again. He begins to fuck into you slowly and gently, careful to not hurt you. Even if he wants to fuck you until you’re crying.
The sound of skin on skin is quiet and almost unintelligible. The squelching sounds from your wet pussy and moans fill the room. Chris gently grips your hips and watches as your face contorts into a frown of pleasure and not pain. “Daddy…” you pant softly as you look up at Chris. “Yeah, baby? Am I hurting you?” he asks out of worry. “N-No, it feels so good…” you trail off as one particular thrust lands near your g-spot. And he knows that.
“Wan’ you to fuck me hard, wan’ you to destroy me, Daddy. Please fuck me like the slut I am…” you gently beg and Chris halts his thrusts. His cock twitches inside of you because of your words. Only he can corrupt an innocent angel such as yourself. “Shit- Little one, I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m being so gentle,” Chris explains, but you shake your head. “You could never hurt me, Daddy. Please, I need you,” you beg for one last time, unaware of what you’ve done to him.
Chris roughly pushes his cock back into your cunt without warning. “Awe, I see. My little princess wants to be fucked like the whore she is, hm? Well, whatever princess wants, she gets,” he growls because beginning to fuck you roughly. You moan loudly at the feeling as with each thrust, his cock pummels against your sweet spot roughly. His pelvic bone rubs against your swollen clit and his grip on your hips tightens.
“Daddy!” you cry out as Chris pounds into your poor pussy. The room fills with moans, groans, curse words and wet sounds that all come from the art you two are making. “Aw, what’s wrong, little girl? Can’t take daddy’s cock anymore? Hm? Well, I don’t really give a fuck, you’re just gonna lie there, and take what I give you like a good fucking girl,” he sneers, and you push at his chest.
“It’s so sensitive!” you wail like a little bitch in heat. “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, do you?” Chris asks as a moan bleeds past his plump lips. “Uh-uh, please don’t stop, Daddy!” you squeal after a harsh thrust. The stretch of Chris’s cock is amazing, and you never want the feeling to stop. Chris’s hand leaves your hip and crawls all the way up to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat, and squeezes the sides, making you clench tightly around his big, thick cock.
He lowers his face to yours and watches as you react to the way he’s being rough with you. “Oh, God!” you cry out as he makes his thrusts more powerful. “Actually, it’s just ‘Daddy’, but I’m fine with that too,” he slyly smirks. You’re too fucked out to even laugh at his joke. Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back begins to arch off of the couch. “Awe, are you gonna come around my big fat cock already, slut? How cute,” Chris mocks.
You nod your head and begin babbling like a baby. “But remember, little girl, I have to give you permission to come, okay?” he reminds you, and you whine. Chris’s hand around your throat moves up to grab your jaw, and he stops thrusting into you. “None of that is allowed. Don’t forget your place, little girl,” Chris warns with fury seething through his words. You mumble an apology, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.
“Seems like I really did fuck you stupid,” he chuckles, and you moan at his words. You clamp down on his cock, tempting him to do what you want, like a siren using her voice to lure men into the sea. “Open your mouth up first, little girl,” he orders, and you obediently listen. The searing arousal in your core begins to fade away, and you feel a panic beginning to rise inside you.
Chris drags his hand back down to your throat and rests it there. You watch as he puckers his lips up, and suddenly, he spits into your mouth. You open your mouth even wider and stretch your tongue out. His saliva lands directly on your tongue, and you wait for further instructions before you give in to your desires.
“Swallow it, little girl,” he instructs, and you do exactly so. You open your mouth back up just to earn some praise. “Good fucking girl. The best baby ever,” he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Daddy! … Can I have cummies now?” you lovingly ask your Daddy.
“Of course, little one,” he says as he smiles down at you. Chris begins to fuck into you again, deep and hard. With each thrust, he pounds your g-spot and his balls slap against your ass. His remaining hand on your hip moves down to your clit, rubbing your little button with rough circles.
“Daddy… ‘m gonna come!” you moan loudly and Chris fucks you harder. “Come one, baby, come all over my big cock like the good girl you are,” he urges. The building feeling inside you increases, and you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Fucking come, little girl, wanna hear you sing for me,” he growls. And with one specific thrust, you find yourself coming undone beneath him.
The sight is so fucking beautiful. Watching you as your eyes turn up, your mouth falls open and your cunt hugging his cock just gets him going, and he wishes he could take a picture of you right now. “D- Daddy! Oh, my-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan and Chris keeps on rubbing your clit and fucking you through your orgasm.
You soak his cock until it’s dripping and even then you’re still coming. You moan loudly and Chris can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm. His balls begin to tighten up and a droplet of sweat drips from his neck down to his chest. “Daddy, are you gonna come?” you sweetly ask as he fucks you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own.
“Yeah, baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum. I’m gonna leave you leaking with my seed,” Chris growls as he fucks you faster. “Please, Daddy… Please, I want your cum so badly! Please fill me up with your cum, Daddy,” you beg and Chris tosses his head back.
“Fuck, yes, yes yes,” he shouts as his balls tighten up again. He quickens his pace until white, hot, thick ropes of cum spurts out from his aching tip. He fulfills his promise and your wish, filling you up with his cum until there’s nothing left. His cum mixes with your juices as he paints your walls with no expertise whatsoever. Chris slumps on top of your body, engulfing you in a bear hug as his cock remains buried inside of you.
You’re both panting and struggling to come down from the euphoric feelings. You look up at Chris make lock eyes with him for the nth time. There’ll never be a day where you don’t get lost in his eyes. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. “You did so fucking good, little one,” he praises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Thank you very, very much, Daddy,” you slur, feeling yourself beginning to sleep into little space. “Daddy?” you call out, tapping his bicep after a few seconds. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, lifting himself up to get a better view of your face. “Will you really stay?” you ask with a bit of worry in your voice. He sighs with a full heart.
“Always.”
#chris destroyer#destroyer!chris x reader#destroyer#destroyer!chris#destroyer!chris x reader smut#destroyer!chris fic#destroyer!chris smut#destroyer!chris x little!reader#daddy!destroyer!chris x reader#daddy!destroyer!chris x little!reader#destroyer!chris x you#sebastian stan fic#sebastian stan au#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader smut#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan imagines#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan angst#sebastian stan headcanons#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan drabble#sebastian stan destroyer#daddy!sebastian stan x little!reader#daddy!sebastian#sebastian stan x little!reader#daddy!bucky barnes x reader#daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader#bucky barnes x little!reader
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cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader
"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"
the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.
but his question certainly is not.
"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."
"really?"
he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.
"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."
he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.
"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"
he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.
"Tohma, stop."
"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."
he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.
"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"
that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.
"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."
you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.
"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"
fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.
"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."
each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.
"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."
that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.
"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."
you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.
"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."
he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.
"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."
it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.
you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.
"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."
the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.
"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."
terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.
"Tohma-"
his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.
but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.
but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.
"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"
he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.
"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."
just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.
"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"
despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.
"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"
he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.
#tohma#tohma x reader#tohma genshin impact#thoma x reader#thoma genshin#genshin impact#yandere tohma#yandere thoma#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader
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No, you're right. The idea that Azula is in danger - more danger than Zuko, even - and that Zuko needs to realize this has always been a nonsensical argument. Yes, Azula is ultimately not safe with Ozai, because he is a violent abuser, but she still has protections Zuko doesn't because she's the golden child. It's amazing how these people will go on about how terrified Azula is of getting her face burnt off and then blame Zuko for that, when Zuko already did get his face burnt off. Of course, what happened to Zuko serves as a threat of what could happen to Azula, and that probably has a lot to do with why Azula does what she does, but Zuko is still the one it is happening to, so acting like he is putting Azula in danger when he has no power here or that he should be empathizing with her more is completely backwards. It's victim blaming garbage. Azula might be afraid in some abstract way that it might happen to her, but Zuko is afraid that he could be killed at any moment, because he knows by experience that his father has no problems raising a hand against him. And Azula uses that against him, too. And when Zuko does reveal Azula's lie, it's Zuko who Ozai does try to murder. These stans like to also blame Zuko and connect him revealing the lie to Ozai to Azula being rejected by Ozai later. Which might have contributed, but Ozai was always going to have to knock Azula down a peg because even his golden child was getting too ambitious, and that would have happened with or without Zuko's reveal. Of course it's an example of how Ozai is abusive to both his children, but it's so hypocritical to blame Zuko since, again, Ozai was never going to let Azula be her own person because parents who are enmeshed with their children this way never do, and Zuko is the one who is actively in danger because of the lie and nearly killed on the spot. These stans like to invent ways that Ozai was physically abusive to Azula offscreen but ignore how Zuko was literally almost killed. Not that it's a contest over who was more abused, but the point is that trying to paint Zuko as wrong here or putting Azula in danger is gross and absurd, because Azula always had more power than him.
Zuko was part of saying Aang was dead in that he didn't disagree when Azula reaffirms it with him, but that's in the same way that he was part of it when Azula asked him if he wasn't a traitor and didn't he want to go back to the Fire Nation. These are leading questions that are emotionally manipulative and he's not in a position to say anything else. Azula knows this and she knows she can use it to have power over him. She doesn't really expect an honest answer from him, she's just using his emotional reactions to further cement control over the situation.
This is important to understand because it's an extremely common abuse tactic. Abusers often lie and distort the truth in ways that involve their victims in the lies and make them feel responsible or as if they have to keep secrets. Azula knows Zuko is keeping this secret and so she forces him to lie and feel like he has to maintain her lie while being perfectly aware that this is what she is doing. And as I said above, this also cements the idea that Zuko's knowledge of the spirit water, which he knows about because someone tried to help him leave his abuser, is something he should be ashamed of. This makes him even more isolated from anyone who would try to help him and even more dependent upon his abusers. It reinforces the feelings of shame around anything other than what his abusers tell him is true. So of course when Azula asks him if he thinks Aang is really dead, he is going to say yes.
It's also very likely that Zuko didn't want to believe that the spirit water would actually work, because if he admits that there is a chance Aang could be alive, he admits to himself that Katara could have healed his scar, that someone cared about him and offered him freedom from his abuser, but now he's back here under Ozai's thumb and that's all out of reach. Zuko in book three is trying to go back to the old Zuko who had to believe that his father loved him in order to psychologically protect himself. When he was in the caves with Katara he acknowledged that he had a choice and that he didn't have to follow his father's orders. He acknowledged that he didn't have to accept abuse. Admitting that now not only puts him in danger, but is extremely scary. Which is another reason why Zuko does not openly admit anything about the spirit water until the eclipse, when he's protected and he knows Aang and the others are about to invade. I don't think he could admit it to himself until he had finally made the decision that he could leave his father. Which is also why he hired the assassin. Killing any doubts that Aang was dead is like killing any doubts he has about the Fire Nation and his place by his father's side as well. Of course, it doesn't work, because Zuko has already reached the point of no return.
And part of the reason Azula uses it against him is because she had also picked up on his doubt about the Fire Nation. That's why she had to separate him from Iroh, why she appeals to his sense of loyalty and says things like "you're not a traitor are you?" This is also why she's not being kind when she tells him not to talk to Iroh or implies he might know that the Avatar is alive. She's not only trying to get information, but testing his loyalty and using his doubt or the perception that he might be a teensy disloyal to get emotional leverage over him, in a situation where he's already been banished before, which also puts the onus on Zuko even more to prove he isn't a traitor. Azula also knows more about Zuko's potential disloyalty than Ozai does, because she saw him happy living as an earth kingdom citizen. She knows exactly what she is doing by testing him. She's putting him in a situation where he has to lie, and she's very well aware of it. Which is why acting like Zuko is hurting her by lying or that he bears the responsibility for being forced to maintain her lie is ugly and manipulative. And also buying into Azula's exact manipulation tactic.
Welcome to my workshop on Tumblr Look at this shit lmao. People unironically say this. You're right about these Azula stans, fucking hell.
These people would sound like trolls, if I didn't already know that they really are that stupid and vicious.
You can see my response to OP. Lol at "we can go back and forth all day about who is to blame..." No, we can't. It really isn't that much of a mystery. I pointed out that it's stated in the show three times that Azula lied about Aang's death because she believed he was still alive, but someone else corrected that it's actually four times, because I forgot about one. Aang being still alive was also Zuko's motive for hiring the assassin, because Azula had threatened him very obviously with it an episode before.
Also lol at "Well she only lied because Zuko lied." First of all, Zuko didn't lie. He has no obligation to tell Azula about the spirit water, especially since he never wanted Ozai to believe that he killed Aang and had no part in the lie Azula told. He openly told Azula that he was worried because he didn't capture the Avatar, and this was before anyone thought he had killed Aang. He had no idea that Azula was going to give him the credit for it, nor did he ask or want her to, and he wasn't worried because he thought Aang might still be alive, he was worried because he didn't capture Aang, which he told Azula in the book two finale as well as in the premiere of book three. Zuko had no part in pretending Aang was dead. Azula was the one who told that lie, and then forced Zuko into a position where he had to maintain it.
Azula also is much less likely to take the fall if Aang turns out to be alive than Zuko is, and she knows that. That's why she's not worried about following Ozai's orders the way Zuko is. She was not trying to protect herself out of necessity by lying, she was trying to build insurance for herself, because she knew Ozai would be more likely to believe her and blame Zuko if anything went wrong. She only gets away with this lie because she is Ozai's golden child and Zuko is the scapegoat. And she knows this. She wasn't forced to lie, she did it because she saw another way to cement her advantage and assert her control.
It's also especially nasty to act like Zuko has an obligation to tell Azula or Ozai about the spirit water, since it was something Katara offered to him in a moment of compassion for his pain. Pain which Ozai caused and Azula constantly mocked him for. The fact that someone who is supposed to be Zuko's enemy offered to heal the scar his family gave him tells you everything you need to know about who Zuko owes his loyalty to. And it ain't Azula.
Like, of course Zuko isn't going to tell her about it. What do you think Ozai would do if he knew that someone had offered to heal Zuko's scar? That, rather than his son learning his lesson about "respect," Zuko came close to realizing that he didn't deserve to be abused? It's more than just Aang being alive, Zuko keeping the spirit water, and what it means to him personally, secret means that Zuko knows that what his family did to him wasn't inevitable or deserved, and that there are people who care about him and want him to heal. Zuko having to keep this secret from his family and being made to feel shame and blame over it is a metaphor for what it's like having to live with abuse.
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excuse me, i love you // v.h.
requested by @thatmultifandomlovingmf
a/n i hope this lives up to your expectation ! i had an idea prior to writing this and i thought it would be nice to sort of mingle the two ! sorry, if this wasn’t what you wanted ! and also same, i still don’t know my ff terms that well either :D
Word Count: 1535, edited
WARNING: fluff, language, fluff.. and more fluff.
---------
Vinnie and you were chilling in his room, lying on his bed. Well, at least he was chilling. You were cuddled into his side and fast asleep—college will do that to you. He took this chance to admire you. He truly loved everything about you, and it made him think: how was he so fortunate to have someone like you? Sure, you’d been best friends for a long time, but that didn’t mean anything—at least to him it didn’t. This thought danced around in his mind, and he recalled back to the event that started your relationship…
Two years ago…
It was a Friday night and Vinnie was sitting in his room, scrolling through Instagram and liking whatever random photos popped up on his feed. This wasn’t how he typically spent his Friday nights. Normally he’d be with his best friend, you. However, due to a series of unfortunate events—aka Jackson Dougland asking you out on a date—he was left to his own devices.
As he sat at the edge of his bed, he wandered why him? What made Jackson Dougland so great that you actually entertained going on a date with him? He was just your average dimwit who cared more about his sport achievements than anything else. You deserved better than someone who was just going to use you as a trophy; you deserved Vinnie—or at least that’s what he thought.
Vinnie was unsure of when and why he started to develop a crush on you. Maybe it was because you’re the only girl who really understood him, maybe it was because you’ve been best friends for years, or it could be from the fact that you appeared in every one of his dreams—and that includes the nightmares with Elmo. There was just something about you that made his love for you shift from platonic to romantic, and he had no clue why. He couldn’t tell you that though. For one, it’d be embarrassing if you rejected him. And two, he couldn’t bare to risk your friendship. So, he thought it’d be better to conceal his feelings than to let them pour out.
As he mindlessly stared at his phone, he heard a slight tap at the window. He fell into confusion as he looked over to see nothing there. Shrugging it off, he went back to looking at the small screen in his hands, but once again, there was a tap at the window.
“What the hell?” Vinnie muttered to himself, getting up and going to check out the ruckus. He opened the window and stuck his head out, finding no sign of where the tapping could’ve come from. That was until he was hit in the face with a pebble.
“OUCH, dammit!” He shouted as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. He looked down to see who the culprit was, only to find you standing there. “Y/n? What the hell?”
“Sorry,” you sighed. Vinnie noticed something different about your demeanor. Normally you were happy and cheery, but right now you were the complete opposite, from the slight frown on your face to your hunched stature.
“Can I come in?”
Vinnie nodded and rushed downstairs to open the door for you. Letting you in, he led the two of you back upstairs and into his room. Once you were inside, he shut the door and watched as you plopped down face-first on his bed.
“What’re you doing here?” Vinnie asked, leaning against the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Dougland?”
You let out a groan and sat up, looking your best friend in the eye. “I was, but then I found out he had other motives.”
“What do you mean by ‘other motives’?”
“He didn’t really wanna go out with me. He was just using me for sex.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I was just another notch on his belt; another girl he could brag about getting with to his buddies.”
Vinnie frowned as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“It’s like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?”
“Completely nothing.”
“I thought he was so sweet. He went on and on about how we were gonna go to homecoming together, and that he wanted to spend the rest of high school with me. But come to find out, it was nothing but lies.”
“I know, I know.” Vinnie sighed. He hated seeing you down, especially in this instance. You deserved nothing but complete happiness, and the fact that someone came along and ruined that for you, it pained him. “You don’t deserve that.”
“Maybe I do,” You replied, your voice breaking. “Maybe this was a sign that love isn’t for me.”
Vinnie shook his head as he looked at you. “Now, Y/n.”
You groaned, “It’s the truth. Think about it, no guy has ever shown interest in me before, and if they have, they’re either like Jackson or they’re in middle school.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.”
“No, it’s not. I’m just gonna have to face the facts: I’m meant to be alone.”
“Y/n-“
“I should’ve known better.”
“Y/n-“
“Nobody would ever want me.”
Vinnie growled, getting up from beside you. “There are people who want you, Y/n! You’re just too blind to see it!”
You scoffed. “Oh yeah, and who might that be? And if you say one of your baseball boys, I swear to god-“
“Me, Y/n…it’s me.”
You finally stopped your yapping and sat there in shock. Vinnie felt at peace, glad that he was able to get you to calm down. However, that peace was disrupted once he soon realized what he had said. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled to himself, although it was loud enough for you to hear.
“What’d you just say?”
“Oh shit.” He repeated, though he knew what you were referring to.
“Not that, idiot, what you said before that.”
He sighed, sitting back down. “Fine. I said that I want you. And before you go off the rails, I truly meant what I said. I don’t know when I started having feelings for you, but I do know that they’re strong. I get that we’ve been best friends for a while and it’s weird, but I just can’t help the way I feel for you.”
“Vinnie, I-“
“I completely understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to.”
“Vin-“
“Just promise me that we can still be friends. I don’t know what I’d do without-“
Before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his. He was taken aback; so many thoughts were roaming around in his head which was nearly on the verge of combusting. When you pulled back, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a good minute.
“Wow.” He breathed, causing you to laugh. “I was not expecting that.”
“I could tell.” You grinned. “Do you really mean all of that…all of what you said?”
He nodded. “Of course, I do, Y/n. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I care about you, and it sucks to hear you go on and on about not finding someone when I’m right here, someone who wants to be with you for you and not for your body or anything. I love you, like so fucking much.”
A smile crept onto your face as your hands found their way to the back of Vinnie’s neck. “You are absolutely too pure for this world, Vin.”
The boy laughed keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “I honestly don’t know what to say. No one has ever said something that sweet and meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend but hearing it from you feels ten times better.” You smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Vinnie. The fact that I mean that much to you, it’s sweet.”
“This feels like a friendzone speech.” Vinnie said as his shoulders fell.
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was planning on friendzoning you.” You chuckled, stroking his head. “I really wanna try this out.”
“You mean like…you for real wanna go out? This isn’t for play-play?”
“Yeah. I feel like we’ve always been a couple. It just took some maturing, a moment of weakness, and one of us to say something for us to figure it out. And now, since we’ve figured it out…I think we should try and see where it goes.”
Vinnie gulped, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t wanna lose you, Y/n.”
“And you won’t.” You reassured. “We’ve been in each other’s lives far to long to just walk out. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”
“If that’s the case, then I guess all that’s left to ask is…Y/n, do you want to go out with me?”
“Yes, Vinnie. I would love to go out with you.”
Flashback over…
As the scene left Vinnie’s head, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years ago, he would’ve never thought being with you would be possible. But here he was together with you. He had all he could ask for.
And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
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DIWK - Chapter thirteen: "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new"
Words count: 16,5K
Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something that's already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. And then, she goes out with James. Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.
Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...
A/N: Ok, so... here we go!
Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |
Words count: 16,5K
Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. Will she go out with James? Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.
Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...
A/N: Ok, so... things are slowly but surely happening here.
---
Spencer's point of view
- "That doesn't make any sense!"- I nearly lost it at my medical appointment. To be fair, I was losing my sanity for the last week, but that day, that minute, I have had enough.
- "I'm not sure what you want me to say,"- the doctor frowned, confused by my reaction.
- "So there's nothing wrong?"
- "Well, your scans are perfectly normal, and there doesn't seem to be any physical explanation for your headaches."
- "Well, what do I do now?"- I was lost. I was hoping he could tell me there was something physically wrong with me that we could fix. But apparently, everything was ok.
- "Well, have you considered..."
- "Considered what?"- I knew what he was implying, but I didn't want to deal with that. The doctor sighed and simply just said it.
- "A psychosomatic cause."
- "Psychosomatic?"
- "It just means mental or emotional stress..."
I had to cut the doctor right there, 'cos it was nearly insulting that he thought he needed to explain to me what that meant.
- "I know what psychosomatic means, doctor, but it's not that."
- "Well, I think it's something we should consider."
- "It's not... I'm not crazy!"- but yes, I was going a little crazy at the time.
- "Crazy? Dr. Reid, I'm not saying..."- the professional stared at me, shocked, as I put on my satchel and stood up.
- "I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light because there's something wrong with me physically, not mentally. It's not that."
- "That?"
- "Listen, doctor, my mother's a paranoid schizophrenic who's been institutionalized, so I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you, and it's not that. It's not."
I walked to the door, but before I could leave or dramatically storm out, the doctor added one more thing.
- "Your headaches are more likely caused by stress due, I suspect, to your very consuming job. My recommendation is to take a few weeks off and have a real vacation. Disconnect from work, and relax. That's all."
The doctor seemed genuinely concerned, so I just nodded and walked out. My head was killing me, and to be honest, I wasn't thinking straight.
It was Thursday. My head was killing me. I hadn't spoken more than a handful of words with (Y/N) since last Friday, and to call it torture came short. It was consuming my whole life at that point. I hadn't slept more than maybe three hours that entire week. After we reached home from Miami, I focused on the paperwork and whatever request for information that crossed my desk.
But I wasn't blind, neither deaf nor stupid. No, I was stupid for wasting so many chances I had in almost five years to tell (Y/N) how much I loved her. Now I was doomed to look at her from a safe distance, as she enjoyed life with her new boyfriend. James.
I first heard his name Wednesday morning when a delivery boy showed up at the bullpen, asking for (Y/N). Everybody looked at her, and she blushed as she raised her hand, and the delivery boy gave her a small box and asked her to sign for the package.
- "What is that, pretty girl?"- Morgan asked when the delivery was gone, and he walked over to see what was into the box.
- "I have no idea... but it passed security, so I know it's not a bomb"- she chuckled and opened it.
- "Wow! Did you send her these, kid?"- Morgan looked at me chuckling, but as soon as he saw my serious expression, he frowned, confused.
- "This is incredible!"- it was the whole Jane Austen collection in a deluxe edition. It was gorgeous. She obviously loved it. And it came with a card.
- "Can't wait 'till Friday night. James"- Emily read out loud as (Y/N) stared at the box, blushing- "Ok missy, you have some explaining to do!"
But I didn't stick around to hear the rest of the story. I didn't need the torture. So I stood up and walked to the kitchenette to get another cup of coffee. And then I hid in the briefing room because I needed to be on my own for a while. I sat at the table and stared at my hands, trying to remain calm. I couldn't cry at work. I shouldn't show my true feelings when my friends were around. I didn't want them asking a million questions I didn't want to answer with the truth.
- "Sorry, man,"- Morgan said as he walked in and sat at the other side of the table- I thought you had sent her those books 'cos you have been acting all weird lately, and you were trying to get on her good side
- "Don't worry"- I tried to look cool and even smiled at Morgan, but he knew better than that.
- "So... how are you?"
- "I'm ok, you?"- I was annoyed already, but I knew there was no way out from that conversation
- "Kid, come on. You can talk to me."
- "There is nothing I wanna talk about right now. I am ok!"- I stood up and walked around the room, frustrated and trying not to yell.
- "Come on, Reid. It's getting painful to watch! You have to tell her how you feel!"- Derek stood up too, and I widened my eyes at his words, scared everybody downstairs might have heard us. I looked at the door; it was locked.
- "I don't want to talk about that now."
- "Man! Come on!"- but I passed by his side and ignored him, opening the door and basically running back to my desk.
From where I could clearly see (Y/N) blushing and staring at her books. Great.
That day went painfully slow. By the time I reached my apartment, I was exhausted both mentally and emotionally. My head was killing me, and all I wanted was to get under the covers of my bed with a book, a cup of herbal tea and make a massive effort to get some sleep.
Apparently, I was asking for too much. Ten minutes after my arrival, my bell rang, forcing my weary body to move from the couch to the door. Sadly, it wasn't (Y/N), the only person I wanted to see that minute. Instead, it was Ashley, and I had to pretend and smile when I saw her.
- "Hey! Am I interrupting something?"- she asked with a cheerful smile as she stood by the door and showed me a paper bag- I got some extra dumplings, and I thought you might like to share
- "Thank you, Ashley... but I already ate."- I lied and watched her leave the box on my table and take a look around- "Wait, where did you get my address?"
- "It's on the system."- she answered casually, and I frowned, thinking there had to be a better way to keep our information classified if we were FBI agents. Not that I didn't want Ashley to know where I lived, but... I just didn't want her there.
- "And what were you doing?"
- "Getting... really to bed, actually. I am weary."
- "And... Do you need any help?"- Ashley stood closer to me and smiled mischievously. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and even a little embarrassed with her proposal.
- "No, thank you, I'm ok."
But she didn't get the hint. Instead, she ran her tongue through her lips very slowly and rested her hands on my hips. My whole body aches at that touch. Not because I craved more, but because it made me feel nervous and uneasy. I didn't want her to touch me, but I didn't want to be rude.
- "You know, Spence, (Y/N) has a boyfriend now, and she definitely moved on with her life. Maybe you should start thinking about doing the same."
- "I'm sorry?"- I frowned as I stared at her silly grin. She thought she was flirting, but instead, she was actually hurting me.
- "I saw her Friday with Anderson's friend. She seemed to be having a great time. Maybe it's time you have fun too."- she leaned in and tried to kiss me, but I took three steps back and shook my head right away.
- "No, Ashley, it's not like that,"- she frowned, confused, and blushed, embarrassed immediately.
-" What? But I thought you... I thought you liked me."
- "I'm sorry, Ashley, but..."- I hesitated in my answer, trying to find the right ways to reject her. I had never rejected anyone before in my entire life. I have never been lucky with girls at all.
- "But what? You don't want me?"
No. I didn't want her. Not even a little. Not even at all. But I couldn't tell her that just upfront. I had to sugarcoat it. I didn't want to hurt her, though. She wasn't a bad person. Just... Not the right person for me.
- "I'm sorry, Ashley. I am sure you are an amazing woman, and any man would be glad to..."
- "Not any man, Spencer. You! I want you!"- but I just shook my head and sighed.
- "I'm sorry."
That was all I managed to answer. Her cheeks kept blushing, and somehow, her eyes were tearing up too. I remembered (Y/N) once told me that she would involuntarily cry every time she was upset, which always made her feel weak. I thought I could tell Ashley crying was totally normal when one's upset. But instead, I just stayed quiet.
- "You know, she is with someone else now. So she clearly doesn't want you, Spencer. Why are you waiting for her?"
I could tell she meant to hurt me, but she couldn't do it. Why? I guess because I knew she didn't understand (Y/N) and me. She tried to make it seem like (Y/N) had ruined everything, but I knew it had been me. There was no one else to blame but me.
- "I don't wanna fight with you, Ashley,"- I whispered and shook my head- And I don't want to talk about (Y/N) with you.
- "She doesn't love you, Spencer,"- that we both agreed on.
- "She has nothing to do with what's going on right here. I don't wanna have anything but a professional relationship with you, Ashley. I'm sorry if you had any other thoughts about us, but it's not gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever. And not because of (Y/N)."
Ashley gave me a stern look. Her chin quivered, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she grabbed the food she had brought and walked to the door.
- "You are gonna regret this, Spencer!!"- she yelled and stormed out of my apartment, slamming the door.
But no matter what, I knew I wouldn't. I wasn't going to regret rejecting her that night.
(Y/N)'s point of view
I stared at the books James had sent me and sighed. I was home alone on a Wednesday night, staring at a bunch of books on my coffee table. They were unique, gorgeous, and clearly expensive. But they meant nothing compared to the one sitting at their side: Spencer's edition of the Illustrated Man. It was old, had many notes on the sides, and the corner of the pages had been folded... primarily by me.
I sipped my glass of wine and sighed. I missed Spencer. I didn't want to go out with James. I wasn't interested in him at all. I just liked the attention I got from him, mostly 'cos I knew he had a crush on me... because Anderson had pointed it out as soon as he told me about him.
Tears fell down my cheeks as I ran my fingers through Spencer's book. I missed him. But he was with Ashley now. So I had to move on. I didn't want to, though. I just wanted him. I could almost see him there, on the couch, laughing. I could hear his laughter as we played board games. His current favorite was Monopoly Gamer Mario Kart, and he really enjoyed winning. He could get all cocky as he got all my coins.
Everywhere I looked around in my apartment reminded me of Reid. It was just the books, his cardigan on my couch, the umbrella he had left two years ago, and that belonged in my place now. It was just the pictures of him on the walls, memories of trips, dinners, Christmas, parties with Lu, Frank, and Mikey. It was literally everything. My apartment screamed Spencer Reid because he was the person I had shared the most amazing times with there.
On that kitchen island, we had carved pumpkins every Halloween for the last four years. On that table, he served the first meal he ever prepared from scratch. On that couch, we forgot about all our phobias and cuddled for countless hours.
My whole life was about Spencer Reid. How was I ever going to move on from him? How was I ever going to love someone the way I loved him?
I sobbed and just then realized I was crying my heart out. I held my legs, wrapping my arms around them, and rocked back and forth for a few minutes. I was losing my mind, and the only thing that made sense was crying until there were no more years left inside of me.
When the phone rang, I had a headache. I always get one after I cry. I prayed it wasn't a case 'cos I wasn't really sober after drinking a whole bottle of wine, crying, on the floor. Literally, on the floor. But it wasn't Penelope with a case. It was Frank, and he could tell from the very first moment that something was wrong.
- "Nugget, are you ok?"
- "Yeah, Paco, why?"- I slurred and cursed. I was busted.
- "Why are you drunk?"
- "Because I got home after a horrible day and decided to drown my fucking bad mood in chardonnay. Guess what? The shitty bastard keeps floating, but I am not giving up!"
Frank chuckled with my drunken words. I heard him light a cigarette and walk around somewhere I figured was his apartment.
- "And what is the doc doing?"
- "What the fuck do I know?"- my voice didn't hide the hurt I felt, but I forgot Frank had no idea what was happening between Spencer and me.
- "Doc isn't there?"
- "No, we are no longer tied by the hip."
- "Ok, nugget, what the fuck is going on?"
- "Spencer has a girlfriend."
- "What?!"- I nearly dropped my phone, 'cos Frank yelled into my ear after hearing my reply.
- "Yeah, Spencer Walter Reid has a girlfriend. So if you wanna know about him, you should call fucking agent trainee Seaver, who is probably training his cock right now!!"
I grabbed my glass and finished what was left of the wine. I knew I had another bottle in the fridge, but it was just Wednesday, I still might be called in for a case, and I still had to get up early in the morning to go to work. Getting drunk wasn't the answer. But... I wasn't asking any questions either. So I stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen to grab the bottle.
- "No, nugget. There's no way you are telling me the truth!"
- "Why should I lie? Spencer has a girlfriend. Her name is Ashley."
- "(Y/N), Doc has been in love with you for years! There's no way he has a girlfriend!!"- I put the phone on speaker and left it on the counter to open the cold bottle of wine and pour myself another glass.
- "Can you all people stop saying Spencer is in love with me?!"- tears filled my eyes as I shouted and hit the table- "I know he is not! And that's why I feel like shit!"
- "Ok, nugget... calm down. Are you home?"
- "Yes... can you come over?"
- "I'm sorry, I'm out of town. I came to New York for a job interview."
- "What?! When? Why?"
- "'Cos I thought maybe it was time for a new challenge..."- my heart stopped with those words, and Frank knew it- "But don't worry, I didn't get it. You won't get rid of me so easily, nugget."
- "Good, 'cos I don't want any more changes. I can't deal with any more things changing... I don't like it..."
- "Ok, nugget, I am a little worried now, so I'm going to call Lu and ask her to go to your house, ok?"
- "No, please don't"- I closed my eyes, feeling the room spinning as soon as I did- "I can tell I had a little too much to drink already, so I'll finish this glass, and I'll go to bed."
- "Are you sure?"- I knew Frank was worried, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden for my friends.
- "Definitely."
- "Ok... what if we do something this weekend?"
- "Sure! I'll be free... if no psychopath decides to ruin our fun again."- Frank chuckled, and I took another sip of my wine.
- "Ok, sounds like a plan. Now please go to bed, and whatever you do, don't do any fucking phone call while you are under the influence."
- "I don't drink and call, Paco. Trust me,"- he chuckled one more time, his laughter bringing a smile to my lips 'cos it too damn contagious not to smile, and then, we said goodnight.
I looked around my kitchen. Nothing but memories with Spencer in there too. I could almost see him sitting at the other side of the kitchen island, sipping his coffee, giving me food facts as I cooked. The only fact I was sure about at that point was that if I wanted to move on from Spencer, I was going to have to move out of that place. Actually, I would have to move cities, states, probably countries. Because I knew everything reminded me of Reid.
But that night, for once, I knew I couldn't move on. I wanted to feel Spencer close, 'cos I missed him too much. So I did all the things I knew I shouldn't. I put on one of his shirts and sweaters and took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around me as I got under the covers of my bed, thinking Spencer was there with me. His clothes still smelled like him, and it was intoxicating.
So I did the only thing I could do: I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep.
Thursday was a waste of a day. I had so much paperwork to catch up with, I put on my headphones and created a bubble around me because it was the only way to survive. Lucky for me, Seaver wasn't at the BAU that day. She was at the academy. Maybe that was why Spencer looked so sad. He missed her.
- "SSA (Y/L/N)"- I picked up my phone and turned around as soon as I heard Hotch's voice at the other side of the line, calling me at the end of the workday.
- "(Y/N), can you come to my office, please?"
- "Yes, sir."
I took a deep breath as I walked over, and brushed my hands against my pants, to get rid of any wrinkle or fuzz. When was the last time Hotch had called me to his office? Over a year earlier, after I had an argument with a suspect in the interrogation room. In my defense, she was striking my nerves. Ok, fine, I didn't have a reason.
- "Hi, is everything ok?"- I asked as soon as I showed up in Aaron's office.
- "Close the door, (Y/N), please."
And immediately, the knot in my stomach made me feel like I was being called into the principal's office. I turned around to do as asked and caught Spencer's eyes staring at me as he stood in the middle of the bullpen, clearly worried. And I felt so weak and moved by how concerned he looked; I did the first thing that came to mind: I smiled and waved.
- "Please, sit down,"- Aaron pointed at the chair across from him, and I did as told, again.
- "Is everything ok, Hotch?"- my question came right out of me, my lips moving before I had actually decided to speak.
- "I have been trying to find the right way to say this for the last half hour, and I am sorry, but..."
- "Oh shit! I'm fired! Why do you hate me so much?"- I jumped from my chair, and Aaron quickly followed me, trying to smother my reaction.
- "No, (Y/N). You are not fired! And no, I don't hate you! Calm down!"- I looked at him, confused and still suspicious.
- "Please, sit down. It's actually because I care about you that I didn't know how to tell you this, but I think almost five years is enough time to stay aside from what's been going on."
- "I'm sorry, Hotch, but I don't follow"- he clenched his jaw and sighed, frustrated. I just stared at him, waiting for the rest of the speech because my unit chief was clearly trying to find the right words to speak his mind.
- "Listen, (Y/N). This is very hard for me to talk about. I've always tried to keep everybody's personal life aside from the FBI. Unfortunately, your relationship with Reid is starting to affect you at your work."
Clearly, that was why he was so uncomfortable. I turned blood red and looked at my hands resting on my lap. I couldn't look into Hotch's eyes.
- "I don't understand. I don't have a relationship with Spencer."
- "The fact neither of you has acted on your feelings doesn't mean you don't have a relationship."
The words came more upset than what Hotch had intended, so he took a deep breath and walked around his office for a moment.
- "After what happened to Haley, I've given too much thought to many of the decisions I've taken in the last years of my life."
I didn't know how to react to Hotch's words because of all the things I could have thought we would talk about. Listening to my unit chief open his heart and talk about his feelings was definitely not my first guess. Not even the eighth.
- "And I care about you and Reid. I don't want you to have any regrets."
- "Which regrets could I have?"- I don't know why I asked if I knew I wasn't going to like the answer.
- "Spencer is in love with you, and you are in love with him. Stop running away from your feelings and face them. Sometimes you have to be courageous and take the first step."
I looked at Aaron Hotchner, almost certain the man sitting in front of me wasn't the same Aaron Hotchner who had once hired me. The man who refused to speak his heart. At least, not me. No way on earth that was Hotch.
- "I know it's strange that I tell you this, and I know I am not comfortable doing this... but... I can see that you two did something wrong, and you should try to fix it before you regret it."
For once, I couldn't argue those words. I knew the speech, but it was useless lying to Hotch. He could see through all my bullshit.
- "I... don't think he feels the same as I do,"- I whispered and kept my eyes on my hands, feeling how my cheeks blushed immediately.
- "You are wrong. You two have been nonsensical, and if I can be sincere, it's getting painful to watch- I winced in a mix of embarrassment and frustration."
- "Hotch... it's not that easy. I don't know if you noticed, but Ashley is the girl who caught his attention."
- "It's the lies that we keep telling ourselves that define what we are instead of who we can really be."- he sentenced, shaking his head- "He loves you. But for the last few weeks, you two have been acting like you are twelve years old."
- "I don't think you are getting all the info straight. I mean... I have tried to tell him."
- "No, you have tried to teach a blind man how to recognize colors,"- now that was Hotch frustrated. He was clearly awkward but also upset I wasn't following his ideas.
- "I'm pretty sure he is with Seaver."
- "He asked never to be paired with Seaver,"- Hotch refuted, frowning. Now that was new information. But I kept refusing to admit anything.
- "Probably not to be suspicious or to make sure his head was in the job."
- "His request was literally: "I don't want to give (Y/N) any sign I like Seaver, 'cos I don't."
Hotch looked at me in silence as I tried to process what he had just said. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you can't ever doubt Hotch.
- "Why would he do such a thing?"
- "You have to ask him."
- "Maybe he just doesn't want anyone suspicious about what they have."
- "Why is it so hard to believe? He loves you!"
I opened my mouth to argue with my boss when Anderson knocked on the door and excused himself.
- "Strauss sent you this, sir. She said it's urgent."- Grant said and cut me a small smile before disappearing from the room.
- "Thank you, Anderson."- Hotch said as he went through the papers and sighed.
- "You are busy,"- I inferred and stood up- "We can continue... whatever this was some other time if you'd like."
I stood up, seeing a clear way out of that awkward conversation. I wasn't sure I could open my heart with him.
- "One more thing, (Y/N)"- Hotch said as I stood up and almost ran to the door.
- "What is it?"
- "Tell him how you feel, or I'll have to take action myself."
- "What kind of actions?"
- "Let's hope we don't get to that point."
Hotch's face was severe. He wasn't joking. I just nodded and walked out of his office, scared of what would happen if I ever told Spencer how I felt. But now I was being forced to. That wasn't good.
I looked around, Morgan was packing his things to leave, and Spencer was on the phone, walking to the elevators. Probably he had a date with Ashley, and he was calling her to tell her he was picking her up. I sighed, exhausted, and shook my head.
- "What is it, pretty girl?"- Morgan cut me a warm smile as I reached his side and sighed.
- "I am so tired. I just wanna go home and get under the blankets of my bed with a warm cup of tea and a book."
- "Damn! That sounds thrilling! When is your big date?"- I frowned, groaning. I had totally forgotten about that date.
- "Tomorrow... I'm kind of hoping we get called on a case so I can cancel..."
- "Why?"- Derek looked at me as I started getting ready to go home.
- "'Cos... I don't feel like going."
- "Then don't,"- his answer was so simple I almost laughed.
- "Yeah... I have to go. Did you see the books that guy sent me?"
- "But that doesn't mean you have to go out on a date. You are not forced to do it just 'cos he sent you a present."
- "I know... but I don't know... maybe I'm just too tired and not thinking clearly."
- "Well, go to sleep, pretty girl. And tomorrow, depending on how you are feeling, you can cancel that date. I know someone who would be thrilled to know you won't go out with some guy."
I just shook my head and put on my jacket. I knew he was talking about Reid, but I wasn't in the mood to keep on talking about him with other teammates. Hotch's pep talk had been enough.
- "See you tomorrow, Derek."
Spencer's point of view
My heart dropped as soon as Hotch called (Y/N) to his office. The last time he had done that, she had gotten into trouble with an unsub. She lost her temper in the interrogation room and almost hit the suspect. Had she done something? Was she in trouble? The fact she smiled and waved at me before closing the door made me feel actually worse. Maybe she knew she was in trouble.
I kept looking over from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside Hotch's office, but I gave up after a few minutes because it was impossible.
I still couldn't shake the thought of (Y/N) being in trouble from my head.
- "Dr. Spencer Reid,"- I answered the phone and didn't take my eye from Hotch's door.
- "Hey Doc, Frank here. How are you?"
- "Hey! Good, how are you?"
- "Good, I was just thinking, is (Y/N) around?"
- "No, she is not. Why? She is with our chief unit... Do you need to reach her?"
- "No. Are you busy tonight?"
- "No, why?"
- "I need to talk to you. Alone."
- "Is everything ok?"- of course, it wasn't. Frank had never called to meet alone unless we were planning (Y/N)'s a surprise birthday party.
- "Yeah, don't worry. I just need to talk to you..."
- "Well... I'm heading home now."
- "Great, I just got off the plane... I can meet you there in an hour if that's ok with you."
- "Sure, see you there."
I had never been so nervous about talking with Frank before. Not even when we first met, and I freaked out thinking of any excuse to avoid going to (Y/N)'s apartment. The memories of that day filled my mind the whole way back home. That was the first time I had ever gotten drunk in my entire life, and I never told that to anyone. I always felt people thought I was a loser, and I didn't want to give them any more reasons to do it. But neither Mikey nor Frank ever laughed at me, though they were clearly cooler than I was. They would have never been my friends in high school.
Were they going to be my friends if (Y/N) and I stopped talking to each other? Of course not. What was going to happen between us? I had no idea, and the headaches overanalyzing everything produced me were driving me insane.
- "Hey man,"- Frank walked in and tapped on my back the second he showed up at my door.
- "How was your flight? Where were you?"
- "New York, applying for a job, but didn't get it,"- he took off his jacket and left it on a chair, as he had always done, despite the fact the hat rack was right next to the door.
- "I'm sorry, Frank."
- "That's ok. It wasn't for me."
- "I was gonna get something for dinner. Wanna join me?"
- "No, this won't take too long, I just..."
Frank sighed and looked at me, standing in the middle of my apartment. He was a little shorter than I was, so I had to look down at him, but that could never affect the fact he could kick my ass. I always knew that about him and Frank. In fact, I had seen them get into small fights a few times in the years I had met them.
And the way Frank looked at me that minute let me know he was actually considering hitting me.
- "Why are you mad at me?"
- "Don't profile me! I hate when you and (Y/N) start doing your Jedi shit."
- "I'm sorry, but... you are clearly not happy with me so, why don't you just say it?"
- "Ok, fine. What the fuck is wrong with you?"- Frank simply replied and crossed his arms on his chest.
- "What? What are you talking about?"
- "You have a girlfriend."
- "What? How do you... I don't!"- Frank just shook his head and started talking, not giving me a chance to explain I wasn't dating anyone.
- "Maybe this is my fault. Lu and Mikey kept telling me you had to tell her what you felt at your own peace! But four fucking years are enough to make up your fucking mind!! We were all sure you loved her, 'cos you did, right? I mean, as long as I know, you still do! I saw you less than a month ago, and you two were fucking husband a wife, for Christ's sake!!"
Frank was now almost yelling at me, and I still didn't understand a word that came from his lips.
- "Frank, what are you talking about?"
- "She fucking loves you!! And we were all waiting for you to date her!! Maybe even marry her!! But now you fucking ruined everything dating someone else! And she is fucking broken hearted!! You fucking hurt her!"- Frank yelled, his nostrils were flaring, and he even cracked his knuckles.
- "Frank, I don't really follow what you are saying, but I can assure you, I am not dating."
- "She already told me everything! You made her cry!!"
- "Who?"- I was so lost in that conversation I wasn't sure I followed him.
- "(Y/N)!! You broke her heart! And now I'm gonna have to break your bones!!"- the way Frank threatened me sounded funny, but it wasn't, at all, why? 'Cos I knew he meant it.
- "Wait!!"- I took a few steps back and raised my hands in a sign of defeat- "Stop it! I am not dating anyone!"
- "Don't lie to me, man. That will just make shit worst."
- "I am not lying! I'm just confused about all this... why would you say I'm dating."
- "(Y/N) told me yesterday."
I stared at Frank, speechless. My eidetic memory going a hundred miles, trying to find a moment in time that gave (Y/N) the impression I had a girlfriend.
- "But... I am not."
- "Then who is Agent Seaver?"- I froze and widened my eyes as Frank crossed his arms on his chest one more time and didn't move his eyes from mine.
- "Oh shit!!"- the curse was a whisper Frank read as a confirmation.
- "And you thought you could keep it from her?"
- "What? No! I am not dating Seaver! I don't even like her!!"- and for the first time since we started arguing, Frank gave me the chance to talk.
- "And why would (Y/N) say that?"
- "I have no idea!!! She hasn't spoken to me this whole week!! Not since I saw her making out with that random guy last Friday."
- "What?! She did what?!"- I feel like a blabbermouth telling Frank what her friend had done, but in my defense, (Y/N) had given him wrong information, and I had to set the record straight.
- "Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on between you two? 'Cos she didn't mention any of that!"
- "Beer?"
Ever since Frank and Mikey were my friends, I always had beers in my fridge. I didn't drink much, but I liked being ready in case they showed up. And they did, 'cos they were my friends.
I stood next to the fridge in the kitchen and took a sip of my beer. Frank stared at me from the other side of the room and waited for my explanation. So I tried to start from the very beginning.
- "I don't know why (Y/N) thinks I'm dating Ashley Seaver, but I am not. I barely talk to her."
- "Who is she?"
- "A young agent Emily is training in the BAU... she and (Y/N) don't get along from the start 'cos Seaver's dad killed Mrs. (Y/L/N)'s sister back in college."
- "What?!"- Frank was in shock.
- "Yeah, it's been pretty awkward since day one."
- "And what? She tried to apologize, and (Y/N) nearly killed her?"
- "That was day one. Everything went downhill from there. But I don't get why she thinks we are dating. I barely talk to Seaver. I specifically asked our unit chief not to pair me with her at any case or task to make sure (Y/N) wouldn't think I liked her."
- "Clearly, that didn't work,"- Frank pointed out the obvious and grabbed his phone- "We should ask (Y/N) why..."
- "No!! Please don't!! I don't want her to know we are talking about this,"- I almost choked on the beer when I heard him say that and nearly jumped to take the phone from his hand.
- "Why?"- I didn't have a reason. I just didn't want to do anything that might actually make things worse.
- "Because..."- I didn't pronounce another sentence. I literally deflated after just one word.
- "Shit, that's deep,"- Frank joked and sipped his beer- "If you are not dating Seaver, why haven't you told (Y/N) you love her?"
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped in my tracks and simply shrugged. It felt useless to deny it anymore. Apparently, everybody could see it but (Y/N). And if she did see it, then it just meant one thing:
- "Because she doesn't love me back. Now she is the one dating some random guy she met at a party."
- "The one she kissed Friday?"- Frank raised an eyebrow as I just nodded- "She probably did that out of anger is she thought you were dating Seaver."
- "You didn't see her, Frank. She didn't look hurt at all. She actually looked like she was enjoying it."
- "Well... I didn't see her, and you are right about that. But I've seen her for the last... five years or so. She loves you. You should ask her out on a date, finally."
- "Why would she go out with me?"- I asked, embarrassed of facing my feelings so openly in front of Frank. But he just shrugged and said.
- "I just said so, 'cos she loves you."
Now that was just painful to hear, especially 'cos Frank actually meant it.
- "She doesn't."- I whispered and sipped my beer.
- "Sorry, but I wasn't asking you if you thought she loved you. I am telling you, she does. Now, if you don't want to believe it, that's an entirely different story.
The way Frank looked at me, saying everything so lightly, like it wasn't a big deal at all, shocked me. He had always been upfront about pretty much everything since day one. But still, that day, I wasn't prepared for that. I stayed quiet, looking at the floor, not knowing what to say.
- "Shit! You really don't believe she has feelings for you!! Are you blind?!"
- "Frank, she is my best friend in the whole world. I don't want to lose her..."
- "Why would you lose her? Just 'cos you love her?"
- "If she doesn't feel the same... and I tell her how I feel..."- I started mumbling, but Frank snorted, frustrated.
- "She is so fucking in love with you; it's hard not making fun of it!! She way she looks at you, how she is always worried about you!"
- "She does the same for you, guys."
- "I've met that woman since when we were kids, and believe me, she has never treated us the way she treats you. We are still waiting for her to bake us birthday cakes. She bakes yours every year. Last year's cake was sick! She fucking made the whole Tell-tale heart scene on your fucking cake and hid a heart in the middle of it!! You know what she did for my birthday? She wrapped the guitar strings she got me. That was it. If that doesn't tell you how in love she is with you, I've got a fucking list of things she has done for you all these years! So fucking deal with it and tell her what you feel!"
- "I can't! I just can't do that!"- I yelled back at Frank, for once opening up about what I really felt- "Every time I look at her, and she smiles, my whole brain turns to mush! I can't tell her I love her 'cos she will laugh. A girl like her deserves everything a man can give her! Have you seen me? She deserves so much better!!"
I'm not gonna lie. It felt good finally saying what I felt out loud. Like a weight had been lifted from my chest. Frank just walked over and tapped on my back a few times, nodding.
- "She fucking loves you! You should be with her! That's it! Why are you overthinking this?!"
- "'Cos I don't wanna ruin it!"
- "You two have wasted like four years! I told her I wanted you two to date since the day I fucking met you! She had to ditch Paul and date you! But she is so fucking convinced you don't love her, she is..."
- "What?"- my heart stopped at those words- "Did she say so?"
- "She did, in fact, yell to me I had to stop telling her you loved her 'cos she knew it was a lie, and that's why she was in so much pain. When did that happen, you ask? Fucking yesterday, so don't come here and tell me she is dating some random guy she kissed at a party when she is clearly in love with you."
I don't know how to explain what that felt like. It was heartbreaking and, at the same time... encouraging?
- "She loves me?"- I asked Frank, still not fully understanding our conversation.
- "Doc, she fucking went behind your boss's back to stay with you in Las Vegas to help you figure out the case of a kid you thought your dad had killed. She fought Gideon when he told her she was a bad influence for you. She hates Lila Archer's movies because of you. I've seen her yell at the tv!"
- "What?"- that was too much information.
- "Just please, fix this shit and tell her you love her"
- "How?"- I honestly asked 'cos I didn't know how to do that. Frank frowned and finished his beer, leaving the bottle on the counter.
- "I don't know, man. Give her a romantic speech about what a big ass you've been all this time thinking she didn't feel the same, ask her to forgive you, and fucking kiss her!!"
- "Ok... how do I do that?"
- "I don't know, doc! You are the genius here!"
- "Actually, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified... and I have no idea what to do..."
- "Yeah, clearly, this is not your forte. I'll give you that"- I shook my head as Frank stared at me, finally a smile curling on his lips.
- "You know everything she likes. There's no way you can go wrong. Just go to her house and tell her the words she wants to hear: I love you."
I nodded and tried to engrave those simple instructions in my head 'cos I knew I was going to ruin it: go there, say I love you. That was it. It was simple. I could do that. Right?
- "Do you need a ride?"- Frank asked and threw me my jacket.
- "Yes... I think I do."
- "Ok, doc, let's do this!"
(Y/N)'s point of view
I held my cup of tea with both hands and smiled, finally relaxing. That was just what I needed after a long miserable day. I sat on the couch, resting my feet on the table right in front of me, and sighed.
- "Sure, make yourself home."- Lu joked as she walked over with a bowl of popcorn and sat by my side.
- "Hey! I took off my shoes! I know you hate it when I leave footprints on your furniture."
- "How considered!!"- Lu joked as I grinned - "You should definitely come more often then."
- "I promise I will..."
- "And when are you gonna talk to the doc?"- I simply shrugged and focused on the tv in front of me.
- "(Y/N), you do realize you just spent two hours finally coming to your senses, right? I don't care if it's 'cos your boss is pushing you to do it. You have to tell Spencer you love him."
I pouted and groaned, but I knew she was right.
- "First, I have to cancel my date with James."
- "Yeah, do that now."
- "No, I don't wanna face reality today. I'll call him tomorrow around noon. I'm gonna tell him I'm on a case out of town, and I won't be able to make it for dinner."
- "Why don't you just tell him you are not interested 'cos you are in love with your best friend?"- I looked at Lu and widened my eyes- "Oh, come on!! We already passed the initial shock. We all knew you've been in love with Spencer for what seems to be ages!! I knew you loved him since you have him the scarf you knitted."
- "That was ages ago!"- I smiled and sighed- "He still wears it every winter"
- "Of course, he does, 'cos he loves you."
- "Do you really think he does?"
- "Are you serious? That man has been crazy for you since day one! He has been unconditional to you! You two can talk about your nerdy things for hours! Watching you is actually endearing. I had never seen two people just looking at each other with such love before! So please! Just do the right thing and tell him you love him."
I sighed and closed my eyes. I had concluded I had to tell Spencer I loved him because Hotch was right; it was affecting my work. I had to put an end to all that nonsense. Lu kept telling me Spencer would tell me he loved me too, but I was sure he wouldn't. Still, each time she tried to convince me, she made a point.
- "And he took you to Hawaii."
- "He didn't even touch me."
- "So? He hates the beach! The man hates the sun, the sand, and the seawater, and what did he do? He took you for ten days to a resort to the beach 'cos that's what you wanted."
- "His doctor told him the sea breeze was good for his lungs after the whole anthrax incident."
- "Anthrax, my ass! He wanted to make you happy, no matter if that meant being miserable for ten days. If that shit ain't love, then I have no idea what it is!!"
Lu was mad. She had cursed. I looked at her and just nodded.
- "And when you two have your first kid, I wanna be the godmother."
- "Lu, aren't you going a little fast?"
- "No. You two have been too slow with our confessions, so it's time someone speeds this up."
I drove back home around midnight. I was weary, and my body needed a good six hours of sleep after that miserable day. But I knew I wasn't going to get much rest. The idea of telling Spencer how I really felt was too scary, and I wasn't sure I would be able to go through with the plan. I didn't even have a plan. I just knew I had to do it before Hotch took the matter into his hands. Whatever that meant.
It was sad getting to my empty apartment. It felt cold and impersonal. I missed having Spencer around. We hadn't talked in a week, and I had never felt so alone in my entire life. If things didn't go well, I thought I could get a cat. I had always wanted one but never actually decided to take the big step and adopt one. I could go to the shelter and get a kitty.
I poured myself one last cup of tea and walked to my bedroom. Spencer's shirt I had worn as a pajama the night before was still on my bed, and I guessed there was no harm if I wore it again. I got under the covers and wrapped my own arms around my waist. I wondered if there would be a day when Spencer would cuddle me to sleep in our shared bed. Not like friends, like we had done so many times. It was embarrassing to think how many of those nights I had fallen asleep pretending Spencer was my boyfriend.
- "I am in love with you."- I whispered and sighed, closing my eyes.
What would Spencer do if I ever said those terrifying words out loud? I could almost see him freaking out in front of me. He wouldn't know what to do or what to say. If he didn't love me back, he would try to find the most careful way to reject me. He would reassure me he loved me, just not like that. But our friendship would be ruined anyway. I could never see him in the eyes after feeling his rejection. If he didn't love me, I was going to lose my best friend.
Sometimes, I felt Spencer was my soulmate. Lu was right; I had denied my feelings for too long. Had I wasted years of happiness with my honey bunny? Was it too late to tell him how I really felt?
I practiced my speech until two in the morning, rolling in my cold bed, alone, until I finally fell asleep. At seven am, I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I got ready for the day. That Friday was the day I was going to tell Spencer I loved him. I had to look my best. So I put on a lovely dress that always made me feel pretty, though I couldn't find my matching and favorite silk scarf. I did my hair nicely and put on a decent amount of makeup, primarily to hide the big dark rings under my eyes.
I stopped by Spencer's favorite coffee shop on my way to work and got him a cup of coffee and a box of donuts. I took a deep breath as I got out of my car and reminded myself I was doing the right thing. My plan was simple: I was going to give Spencer the coffee and the donuts as an apology for not talking to him in the lastest days. I was going to cancel my date with James, and I was going to ask Spencer out. Maybe like a date, and confess my true feelings for him.
But my plan was ruined before I even reached the main building. I walked through the parking lot and saw Spencer getting out of Ashley's car, holding a cup of coffee. They looked like the lovely young couple they were, after getting breakfast together... after spending the night together...
My broken heart kept breaking as I stared at the scene from a safe distance. I was right. I was too late to fight for Spencer. I had wasted all the chances I had ever had to be with him, and now I couldn't ruin his happiness. If he wanted to be with Ashley, I had to do the right thing and get out of his way.
I hurried up inside the main building and rushed into the elevator. I took deep breaths, trying to hold the tears inside. Whatever happened, I was not going to let Spencer see me cry. I grabbed the box of donuts and the coffee and hesitated when I reached the bullpen. Hotch was already in his office, talking with Rossi. I looked around, knowing Reid was about to get in there with Ashley, and I needed to hide from them.
- "I'm so glad you are here!!"- Penelope turned from her computer, surprised to see me rushing into her office.
- "Hey, munchkin!"
- "How is my favorite tech genius this morning? I got you breakfast!"- I could pretend to be hyper and happy, right?
- "And I love you so much!!"- Penelope smiled and grabbed the coffee- "Smells... delicious!"
- "Only the best for my dearest friend"- she looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
- "Are you ok?"
- "Of course!! I had a good night of sleep, and tonight, if no fucking psycho killers ruin my day, I am going to have a date with a hot guy who is so into me. He already sent me an expensive present, which by no means makes me feel pressured, not even a little! No!"
I freaked out immediately, thinking I had a date with a guy I didn't even like.
- "Ok, baby, sit down"- Penelope tapped on the chair next to her and looked at me with worried eyes- "Are you getting cold feet about this date?"
- "I just... I don't know how I feel about that date. I was ready to cancel, and now... I think I just should go."
I definitely wasn't telling Garcia what had happened earlier; how I was going to tell Spencer I love him until I saw him in Ashley's car. Why? Well, first, I didn't want to cry at work. Second, she would say I had to tell Spencer how I felt. And third, she would tell Morgan.
Penelope sipped her coffee and frowned. Still, she didn't say a word. Instead, she looked right into my eyes and whispered.
- "If you don't wanna go out with him, you don't have to."
- "I know. I just wish I wanted to... do you know what I mean?"
- "I do... "- Garcia nodded and sighed- "Munchkin, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, really."
- "Thank you"- I rested my head on her shoulder and just sighed. We both stayed quiet for a moment until my dear friend questioned.
- "Why did you give me Spencer's coffee?"
- "Wh... what?"- I felt so caught I actually stuttered.
- "This is not almond milk. This is filled with dairy, both milk, and cream... and the amount of sugar in this is..."
- "Oh, please!! Can you just pretend I fooled you?!"- I was mortified- "It's fucking eight in the morning, and the day has already turned as awful as it could be."
- "Come on, baby"- Garcia tried to soothe me- "You know life can always get worse, so let's start by being honest. Why didn't you give Spencer the breakfast you got for him?"
- "For not being a profiler, you are creepy good reading people, you know?"
- "Yes, I am a genius. You should have noticed that earlier in life. That wasn't so bright from you, profiler,"- she teased, trying to make me laugh. And I actually chuckled.
- "Good, I got a smile. Now, tell me what happened."
- "But I don't wanna cry at work... and Hotch already called me out for being unprofessional about this whole Spencer's thing."
- "What? When?"
- "Yesterday, he said I have to tell Spencer what I actually feel for him, or he is gonna take matters into his hands."
- "What did he mean by that?"
- "I have no idea! But it sounded serious,"- I sighed, defeated, and sipped my coffee- "So after zero sleeping for days and a very awkward talk with our unit chief, plus the threats from one of my closest friends, I had decided to tell Spencer that I..."
I couldn't even say it
- "What I feel for him, today."
- "Today?! With this breakfast I am eating?"- and of course, PG freaked out.
- "Well, I was going to give him food as an offering for ignoring him this week... then I was going to ask him out tonight, and that's when I wanted to tell him... but..."
I paused and took a deep breath, doing my best not to cry. I really didn't want to show how hurt I was, though I was almost sure my dear friend Garcia could see it clearly in my eyes.
- "Just please, don't tell Morgan."
- "My adorable munchkin, I don't tell everything about you and our resident genius to Derek!"
- "Yeah, but... I just... feel so..."
- "Good morning, Garcia!"- I bit my lips as soon as I heard Ashley's voice storming into my friend's office- "I brought you coffee!"
Penelope held my hand and squeezed it as soon as she noticed my mood shift.
- "Hi!"- and my dear friend was so awkward it could have actually been fun if I wasn't so angry.
- "Oh, hi (Y/N), I didn't know you were here already..."
- "Yeah, we were having breakfast, actually,"- I pointed at our coffees and donuts, and Ashley nodded, blushing.
- "Sorry... I didn't know you were here... I didn't get you any..."
- "No, don't worry, Ashley. It's not like you know you I actually work here too,"- I wasn't even trying to be polite with her anymore. I hated her. Hotch was going to be so mad...
Seaver just stared at us and nodded in silence. Then, she turned around and left, closing the door behind her back. I groaned and nearly hit my head against the desk.
- "Wow, you are not even pretending for the cameras."
- "That was me trying not to kill her, actually. If she walked out on her own, then it was a very successful encounter."
- "What the hell, (Y/N)?"
- "I was gonna tell him, and then I saw him getting out of her car in the parking lot..."
- "Spencer Reid?!"- Penelope freaked out. I just nodded- "Dr. Spencer Reid?? The nerd in love with you? Getting out of her car?"
- "And carrying breakfast, like a lovely young couple. I bet they banged last night."
- "No way!"
- "Why not?!"
- "Because he loves you, and no one calls it "bang" anymore!" Where have you been?"
- "Penelope!"- my friend smiled at me and offered me a donut, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and resting her head against mine.
- "My dearest munchkin. Don't let this stop you. You were on a mission this morning."
- "They banged, fucked, had sex, call it what you want!! I am not telling Reid anything!! And I guess I'm going out with James tonight 'cos... if I don't, I'm gonna die alone, and my cat is gonna eat me!!"
I was nonsensical. I knew it. But there was nothing that could stop me from being absurd. I was scared and hurt. I actually thought I was going to go crazy.
I stayed with Penelope for a while, trying to cool my head. I didn't want to snap with Seaver again. I knew it had been a mistake. I saved Hotch a donut and asked him if I could work in JJ's old office. I told him I wanted to concentrate and that I really needed the time alone. Of course, he could see through my bullshit.
- "I told you, if you don't fix things with Reid, I am going to intervene."
- "I am going to do it, sir. Just... after I get all this paperwork done. I'll talk to him this weekend."- I looked into Hotch's eyes, trying my best to lie correctly. Do you have any idea what lying to the best profiler in the FBI felt like? It was mission impossible.
- "Good, (Y/N). I'm glad to know you've made the right decision."
- "Thank you, sir."
Spencer's point of view
After I got out of Frank's car, holding a bouquet of flowers, I forced him to help me get in our way over. It took me almost half an hour to walk from the sidewalk to the door of (Y/N)'s building.
- "I am in love with you,"- I whispered and shook my head, knowing she deserved better than that simple confession. I took the stairs, trying to improve my speech.
- "I have always been in love with you, from the minute I first saw you,"- I whispered and wiped off the sweat from my hands against the fabric of my jacket. It sounded terrible. I knew I was going to get it all wrong.
- "What am I doing?"- I stopped in my tracks before I reached her floor- I can't do this.
I literally froze and felt sick in my stomach. I couldn't do that. What was I doing? How had I let Frank talk to me into doing something so stupid? What was I getting into? I couldn't do it.
For a minute or so, I stood in the middle of the stairs, not able to move or formulate a single coherent thought. I was trying to
But if I didn't, and she loved me... I was going to lose everything I had ever dreamed of and that I never imagined I could have. No, I had to do it. I had to tell (Y/N) I loved her. And I had to do it that day. "Your head is spinning because it's full of ghosts," I remembered Julio's words and took a deep breath.
I ran the last steps of the stairs and reached her door, panting. But I didn't wait. I knocked on her door and waited.
- (Y/N), it's Spencer. Are you home?- but nothing. So I knocked again.
- Chipmonk, please open the door. I know I've been an asshole this whole week, but I need to talk to you. There is something you should know.
But nothing. Just silence. I knocked a few more times and patiently waited. No answer. I thought about it for a second and took the key she had given me years ago in case of any emergency. I had ended up using that key a million times, not really for many emergencies. I used it to prepare her surprise birthday party many times or come in when she knew I was coming. Or when I stayed over for the weekend, and it was my turn to pick up something from the store. So that day, I used it and opened her door.
Walking into (Y/N)'s apartment felt like walking into her arms. It smelled like her, and it felt like home. I took a look around, calling out her name. But she wasn't there.
Her place was kind of messy. There were many blankets on the couch and some clothes lying around. Man's clothes. For a moment, my heart sank. I thought maybe James was spending time there too. But soon, I realized...It was my clothes. I walked into her room and saw her unmade bed. My old red sweater was on her pillow, and some of the shirts she liked were close as well.
Why was she surrounded by my things? Did she... miss me that much? Could it be Frank was actually right? She loved me and missed me? I looked around and tried to find confirmation, though I felt overwhelmed by emotion at the moment.
(Y/N) loved me. There was a chance she actually loved me the way I did.
I fell on her bed and contained tears that almost started falling down my eyes. There might be a chance she loved me, and I refused to ruin it. She couldn't find me in her house out of the blue. She deserved better than that. She deserves the world. So I quickly collected all my things and walked to the door to think of a better way to confess my undying love. Undying, cheesy, and yet, honest.
But before I was out, I walked back to her room and opened her closet. If she had all my clothes to think of me, I wanted a souvenir too. My eyes traveled quickly through all the items hanging until her purple satin scarf caught my eye. I loved how she looked on it, and it smelled like her. I hid it in my pocket and walked out of her apartment.
Not even the tiny bouquet of flowers I had gotten her seemed to be enough. Frank said she'd love them, but... it just wasn't good enough for her.
I had a lot of planning to do. And I have no idea where to start. I had high standards to beat. After all, I had read all of the romantic books (Y/N) had in her house and seen all the romantic comedies she loved. All of those more than ten times. So... how was I going to do it? Was I going to pour my heart out to her in the most romantic way possible and finish with:
- "I am just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him,"- I said out loud as I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee.
No. That didn't feel right. It had to be better. Who was (Y/N)'s biggest love reference? Mr. Darcy. How had he done it? Well... he didn't do it right the first time, so he started making amends with a letter. I could begin with a letter. After all, I had written (Y/N) many love letters I had never given her in all those years. Letters that contained all my feelings for her as a way of letting it out of my chest. But they were never meant for her to see.
I sat at my desk and grabbed my favorite pen. But before I could actually start writing, I noticed I needed music, romantic music, for inspiration. I picked the same Amy Winehouse vinyl record I had been listening to for the last couple of days and walked back to my seat.
Writing a love letter wasn't easy. Putting facts into words, that's a task I can complete, no questions asked. But that Thursday night, I struggled with every sentence I created. I wasn't a writer and neither a man who had any kind of experience with love or being in love. Less with confessing such feelings. But I had to give my best.
Around one in the morning, I finished the third version of that letter. Frank had texted me to know if things had gone well, but I told him she wasn't home.
- "Don't worry, Paco,"- I said and smiled while holding her silk scarf- "Tomorrow is the day."
My wristwatch said four in the morning when I stopped painting and decided to get into bed. I had to get at least two hours of sleep. Not that (Y/N) had never seen my insomniac face before, but I needed to, at least try, to look presentable for her. After writing, my mind was flooded with emotion, and I couldn't stop thinking about everything we've been through all those years together. (Y/N) and I. we had been best friends for so long, yet, I could now see our friendship had always been a little different. We were closer... sidekicks... lovers without kissing. I needed to feel her hand in mine. Her arms around me. But it was only a few more hours.
Was she going to like me in the morning? I felt butterflies in my stomach just with the idea of confessing my feelings. I set everything ready and went to bed. I barely had the energy to put on my pajamas and turn off the lights. (Y/N)'s scarf wrapped softly on my wrist.
I frowned, baffled and lost, when I opened the door the following morning and found Ashley at the other side.
- "Can I talk to you for a moment?"- she whispered and handed me a fresh cup of coffee- "I brought you a peace offering for being so obnoxious the other day."
It was clear Ashley was honest, and she was embarrassed about her behavior. Otherwise, she wouldn't have shown up at my door. So I smiled and nodded, trying to show her I wasn't mad at her.
- "Water under the bridge"- I whispered and held the coffee she gave me. No milk, no cream, no sugar. Just like (Y/N) liked it. Ashley noticed how I prepared coffee at the BAU but never realized I wasn't making myself a cup. I was making (Y/N)'s.
- "I am very embarrassed... and I really like working with you... regardless of everything I said. I don't..."
- "We can pretend that never happened,"- I interrupted her, and she just smiled and nodded.
- "I would like that. I am sorry I was rude... Do you want a ride to work? We are a little late."
I thought about it for a second. I wanted to stop by and get (Y/N) more flowers, but we were late, and I wasn't planning on telling her how I felt until later that night.
- "Sure, let's go."
(Y/N) was nowhere to be found that day, and that immediately got me on my nerves. Her things were on her desk, but she wasn't there.
- "Hey García, have you seen (Y/N)?"- I walked in and watched her stay still, shocked.
- "Hello there, Dr. Reid. How are you today? Nice to see you too."
- "Sorry!"- I cut her an awkward smile and waved- "Hi! How are you?"
- "The damage is already done, Dr. Reid. Clearly, you are not here looking for my companionship."
- "Sorry, I just haven't seen (Y/N) today. You?"
- "Yes, my pretty chipmunk was here earlier, and that's all I know. Why?"- Garcia raised an eyebrow and looked into my eyes- "Why are you so interested in her?"
I didn't know if it was because I had spent most of the night planning to confess (Y/N) my feelings, but Penelope's question sounded suspicious. I tried to act normal and just frowned.
- "I just wanted to know if she was here 'cos I haven't seen her around."
- "She had work to do, and I think she had a meeting with Hotch."
- "Again?!"- I couldn't help but raise my voice, scared of the idea of (Y/N) being scolded by Hotch for two days in a row.
- "But she had a meeting with him yesterday!"- I argued, but Garcia just shrugged.
- "That's all I know. Also, she brought donuts"- I stared at her dish. Chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. My favorites.
- "Do you know if she... got one of those for me?"
- "I don't know, why don't you ask her?"- Garcia questioned back and raised an eyebrow
- "I would, but I don't know where she is."
- "Besides... didn't you have breakfast already?"
- "There's always room for a donut... for my favorite donut."
Penelope raised an eyebrow, trying to read beyond my words. Was I just talking about donuts, or was I talking about (Y/N)? Did she actually mean breakfast? Of course, she did. Garcia wasn't implying anything else! I was just overthinking everything!
Right?
- "I'll see if she is still with Hotch."
- "Hey, Reid"- Penelope called out my name when I was about to reach the door- "When you see her, you should tell her it's her breakfast you are interested in. No other."
I stared at Garcia and opened my mouth. But no word came from it. I just know I blushed and nodded, leaving her office soon after.
But I didn't find (Y/N) during that whole day. And it was both frustrating and nerve-wracking. The letter I wrote her kept burning me, as I felt it in my jacket's pocket, beating like a second heart. I wasted a whole paperwork day trying to concentrate, but I couldn't. I managed to get the least work done in years, 'cos my mind focused on her. On (Y/N). In her absence.
By the end of the day, I had lost all hope of finding her around and did what all desperate men would do. I waited by her car in the parking lot.
Around six-thirty, I heard her shoes approaching the vehicle, and my heart stopped when I saw her eyes in mind, nearly shocked to find me there.
- "Hi"- that was all I managed to say. My voice was a whisper that even I barely heard.
- "What are you doing here?"
- "I was waiting for you. I thought it was obvious."
I smiled and tried to ease her mood. But it didn't work. She looked so mad at me, though those few words were the longest conversation we had shared in over a week. Why was she mad at me? Was it too cheesy to tell her she looked adorable when she was mad? Of course, it was. I still took a mental note to tell her that later on. Maybe later that same evening if things went well.
- "Why?"- (Y/N) frowned and opened her car, and threw her purse in the back seat.
- "I wanted to talk to you."
- "I can't, Spencer. I am late,"- she called me by my name, and that reality check hurt me.
- "Late for your date with James?"
- "I don't feel like talking about that with you. Goodbye, Spencer."
- "Wait. (Y/N), stop."- I held her arm and felt her whole body shiver under my touch. I would have held her longer, but she pulled her arm from my grip and frowned- "Why are you so mad at me?"
- "Mad? I am not mad!"- I know she was a good liar, but she was so mad her whole body language gave it away, along with her high-pitched voice.
- "I think you are... Why?"- I tried to move closer, but she crossed her arms on her chest and stood next to the opened passenger door. Ready to escape.
- "I am just in a hurry, Spencer. That's it."
There it was, the confirmation of her anger. My name, leaving her lips with fury. I wanted to hold her. I needed to feel her close, with a desperation I had never experienced before. I was craving for her. And there she was, right in front of me, refusing to even look at me.
- "Can you just... give me a chance to talk to you?"- my words came as a whisper, almost as a beg.
- "Isn't someone else waiting for you?"
- "Me? No. No one,"- I answered, confused by what she was implying- "I just need to talk to you. Please."
- "Sorry, I'm late. But... maybe..."- (Y/N) hesitated and looked at someone else walking close to us. I didn't even bother. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
- "Would you... would you take this?"- I held the letter and gave it to her. She hesitated before taking it, and my heart nearly burst at the thought of her holding my love confession in her hands.
- "What's this?"
- "Can you read it?"- but it only lasted for a second. (Y/N) shook her head and gave me back my letter.
- "Not now, I'm late."
- "(Y/N), please."
- "No, Reid. I can't read this now. I am late."
- "Please, (Y/N). I need to tell you something."
- "And I need to leave. So, bye."
(Y/N) slipped through my fingers like water. I stayed still, staring at her as she disappeared, and cursed myself under my breath for being so petrified to act. I wanted to cry. I was so frustrated with myself.
- "I love you. I don't want you to go out with him. You should be with me."
It was liberating to say those words out loud even though she wasn't there to listen.
- "Nice kid. Now next time, say it when she can hear you."
I recognized Morgan's voice behind me. And I guess I could have felt embarrassed if I wasn't so frustrated already. And most of all, so mad at myself. I had practiced. I had tried. I knew what I had to say. But when I was with her, I just couldn't. And now he was out there on her way to date another man.
I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder, tapping on it a few times. I sighed and nodded.
- "Come on. First-round is on me."
It only took Morgan two rounds to get me talking. To be fair, I wanted to speak. He had already heard what I wanted (Y/N) to know.
- "I just wanna tell her I love her. I need to tell her what I feel for her 'cos now I can see there might be a chance she loves me too."
- "Might be a chance?"- Morgan frowned and shook his head- "Kid, that woman is head over feet in love with you. And she has been for years. I just can't believe you've wasted all these years!!"
- "I can't believe I am sitting here with you when she is out there on a date with some other man!!"- I nearly yelled and drank what was left of my third whisky, immediately raising my hand, asking for another round. Derek raised an eyebrow as he stared at me, and somehow it felt like he was mad at me for something.
- "Kid. You know I love you, but you've been so fucking stupid and blind it's been painful for us to watch! You've had so many chances to be with her! She has been crazy in love with you ever since she was dating that other guy!!"
- "Paul? That was ages ago!"- I said ages to sound less obsessive, but I knew exactly how long it had been since they had broken up. It was also the amount of time I had spent without using Dilaudid.
- "Well, she loved you even back there! I bet you are the reason they broke up!"
- "No, I wasn't"- I sighed, thinking I wished I was, but I knew (Y/N) had broken up with him 'cos she didn't love him.
- "Why are you so sure?"
- "She told me"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at me so severely- "What?"
- "Back then, that girl got into trouble for arguing with Lila Archer. Remember?"
- "Eidetic memory, Morgan. Of course, I remember."
- "Sorry, genius"- the waitress arrived with our fourth round, and my body felt way more relaxed by them. Also, my tongue started to slur as I spoke.
- "My pretty pumpkin actually called Lila, and I quote: "annoying, always ignoring our orders, keeping herself in danger, not helping, being a squeamish little princess who is used to do whatever the fuck she wants, and who didn't care to put people around her in danger."- I chuckled remembering that conversation- "And then she joked saying "Of course you were oblivious to all this 'cos you couldn't stop staring at her."
- "Ok, Reid, that's what girls say when they are jealous! And she was clearly jealous of Lila! When she saw you two in that pool? I thought (Y/N) was gonna kill her! I swear I was waiting for her to jump into the pool and end with her!"- Morgan laughed, picturing the scene in his mind. I sipped my whisky, not quite sure he was into something there.
- "I really think she didn't like her 'cos she found her annoying. (Y/N) finds most people annoying."
- "And not you. What does that tell us?"
- "That I am not annoying"- Morgan looked at me and opened his mouth to say something but stayed quiet. And instead, he just chuckled.
- "What about that waitress?"
- "Who?"
- "The one you picked up in the bar with a magic trick?"
- "I didn't pick on her!! I was doing my work and..."
- "And you got her phone number, and she sent you that card with a kiss..."- Morgan stared at me, waiting for a reaction- "Ok, in case you didn't notice, (Y/N) was jealous of her too."
- "She was mad 'cos she said I was unprofessional."
- "Ok, fine, whatever. And now, what's the plan, casanova? When are you telling her you love her?"
- "Now, tonight, after this drink,"- and I hurried to drink it faster.
- "What?"
- "I've got a love letter like Darcy gave to Lizzy."
- "Who the fuck are those?"
- "Her favorite characters from her favorite book"- I explained, annoyed, and drunk- "They were in love but never acted on it 'cos they were both proud and held severe prejudices against each other. So when he told her he loved her, it was a mess. Then, he wrote her a letter trying to explain to her why he had been nonsensical. Then she read it and realized she loved him, but thought it was too late, so both of them acted like nothing was going on until they realized they had been fools, and Darcy confessed his love, and she told him she loved him too..."
There was a blank stare in Morgan's eyes when I was done speaking.
- "How many times have you read that?"
- "Today? Eleven"
The way Morgan wide opened his eyes, shocked, made me think maybe I had overreacted with how many times I read Pride and Prejudice. But he didn't say anything, just nodded.
- "Ok, kid, you can't talk to her today."
- "Why now? I was actually going to drop by her apartment and read the letter."
- "Spencer, you are drunk."
- "I am not!"- I was, in fact, intoxicated.
- "Prove it!"- Derek dared me, chuckling
- "How? Want me to walk on a line and touch my nose with my fingers?"
- "Go talk to those girls over there"- he pointed at a bunch of women who kept flirting with him from a distance at the bar counter.
- "Why would I do that? I am in love! I just told you I am about to confess my true feelings to the one woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I swear, Morgan, if she says she loves me, I'm gonna ask her to marry me."
- "What?!"- my friend nearly choked with his drink.
- "Yeah! I've wasted too much time! I wanna marry that woman! In fact! I'm gonna tell her that right now!"- I stood up too quickly, and the whole room started spinning. Morgan grabbed my arm and forced me to sit down again.
- "Hold on, Reid! You need a round of water before we leave this bar."
- "No, Derek, you don't get it. I finally see everything clear now!! It's all clear!! I've loved her for so long... and maybe Frank is right, maybe she has loved me all along."
- "Dude, that's literally what I've been telling you for the last hour!!"- Morgan nearly yelled, frustrated.
- "Yeah, but Frank has been her best friend since they were four! Can you imagine? Little (Y/N) at four, playing... our kid would be so cute if they are like her."
- "Ok, Reid, you are creeping me out"
- "Why?"- I couldn't understand why Morgan was so shocked. I thought he wanted to know how I felt.
- "For the last five years, you've been in love with her, and you've denied it over and over again. And now suddenly, you get drunk and spill your heart open."
- "I just... I don't want these ghosts haunting me anymore. Julio was right!"
- "You lost me, man"
- "Our last case in Miami. My head was killing me, and Julio knew it. He said it was this job and everything I was bottling up that was driving me insane. Now I can see it clearly! I have to tell (Y/N) how I feel for her! That woman is the love of my life! She saved my life!!"
- "Calm down, Spencer."
- "Calm down?? She is out there with that guy!! What if they kiss again? What if they fuck?! No way! We have to stop her. I have to stop her!!"
I don't know how I got out of that chair and stormed out of the bar.
- "Reid! Wait!"
(Y/N)'s point of view
James was hot. Yes, that's true. I can't deny what's real. I saw him talking at the other side of the table, being charming, being fucking perfect. And there I was, not feeling anything. Nothing. Good old (Y/N) a few years ago would have been crazy for that guy. Before I met Spencer. But after Spencer.... There was nothing after him. And I could see it. I could feel it inside of me. How he had ruined me without even touching me. Does that make any kind of sense?
- "So, what do you do when you are not fighting crime?"- James asked me with the most charming smile. I just sighed and tried to look interested. I honestly wanted to try. But I soon realized everything I could answer included Spencer.
- "I am a big nerd, so I'm getting ready to go to Comicon this year."
- "In costume?!"- he widened his eyes and smiled, excited
- "Yes, of course. In costume is the only way to go to Comicon,"- in costume with Reid...
- "And which is your costume this year?"
- "Slave Leia"- James smiled mischievously and ran his tongue through his lips.
- "I won't miss this Comicon."
- "I also like hanging out with my friends. I usually host dinner parties 'cos I love cooking,"- with Spencer...
- "That's awesome, 'cos I love eating. Are you into board games?"
- "Yeah! Love them! We usually play a lot."
We. Spencer, and I.
I was doomed. I was never going to love anyone else. Spencer was overshadowing everything I might like about James. What did I actually like about James? That he was interested in me. Was Spencer interested in me? Lu said so. Garia said so. Emily said so. But I didn't. Why? Why couldn't I believe Spencer might love me? Was I terrified to lose him as a friend, or was I petrified to lose myself in him? Was I scared to be loved by him? To be happy? To have someone to love me, want me, and make me happy?
Was I scared of being loved by Reid? Of being happy with him? 'Cos each time I thought about it, it didn't feel like Spencer was just a guy I had a crush on or a guy I had fallen for. It felt like he was the love of my life, my happy ending. My forever after. And that scared the shit out of me. I've always been scared I would ruin the love of my life like my parents had destroyed their happiness. I knew the job was going to get in the middle. And I was already in love with my job.
Well... so was Reid.
In fact, we shared that love. We did everything together, including working. And god, I loved being in the field with him. I hated the fear of losing him I often felt whenever we were together, but the thrill of catching an unsub with Reid, of saving lives together. Nothing could ever compare to that. Well, maybe sex with Spencer, but I didn't know it for a fact. I wished I knew...
- "(Y/N)?"- James was looking at me, waiting for an answer. But I never got the questions. I was just lost in the thought of Spencer.
- "Sorry, you were saying?"
- "I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere else... Maybe you could show me your record collection."
Dinner was over. We had our dessert and coffee. A part of me felt I had to say yes, 'cos I felt pushed to like him. But I just couldn't force it. I knew it was meant to turn out badly.
- "Actually, I'm tired... I'm sorry. It was a long week and included a trip to Miami to catch a lunatic..."
- "Of course, not a problem. I'll take you home."
The drive back to my apartment was mostly silent. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't really comfortable either. It was just me feeling Spencer's absence. And it hurt in ways I hadn't realized just yet. It made me wonder if my life without him was destined to be like that.
- "I had a great time tonight,"- I said when James parked outside my building.
- "Me too..."- he turned to me and cut me a big smile, as his eyes locked with mine. I could see him leaning in, and my whole body refused to kiss him. So I opened my door and nearly jumped out of his car.
- "Ok, it's getting late."
- "I'll walk you to your door."
- "No, you don't have to."- but James was already by my side, holding my hand (something I absolutely hated) and walking with me to my building.
- "I have to tell you, (Y/N). I was hoping to meet you at Anderson's party."
Oh shit, I didn't really want to go through that conversation with him. I thought I could just ghost out of that dinner, but James wasn't making things easy. So I opened my building's door, and he followed me in. Shit.
- "I don't know if he told you anything but... I just had the biggest crush on..."
- "James, you don't have to..."
- "But I want to. I just feel like we could go somewhere. I know it's only our first date, but I think you are the most incredible woman I've ever met. And I would be ecstatic if you would want to go out with me again."
I sighed and turned to him. We were standing by my door, and I could feel he wanted to kiss me goodnight.
- "James. I feel flattered, but... I can't do this."
- "What? Why?"
- "Because I am in love with someone else... I've been in love for a while now, but I never thought I might have to actually act on it until now..."
James stared into my eyes, confused, hurt, and... sad. I nodded and did the kindest thing I could under the circumstances and hugged him.
- "I am sorry. You are a fantastic guy, and I'm sure if I wasn't in love already, this would have worked, but..."
- "It's ok, (Y/N). Really. You don't have to apologize. I was just one date, no harm done."- my date kissed my cheek and smiled- "Besides, I got to meet my favorite profiler."
- "Prentiss?"- I joked, and he chuckled.
- "And what are you gonna do about this mystery guy?"
- "I don't know. I don't think he feels the same... but I think I have to tell him, or I'll go crazy."
- "He would be crazy if he rejects you,"- James whispered and smiled- "Good night, crime fighter."
I closed the door behind my back and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I felt bad for James. But I couldn't take care of his feelings when I had been neglecting mine for so long.
What was I supposed to do? I was so tired of overthinking everything. Of being afraid. I put the kettle on to make myself a cup of tea and laid on my couch for a minute. It smelled like Spencer. There was one of his sweaters there. I quickly grabbed it and buried my face in it, pretending it was his neck, and I could even land butterfly kisses on his skin.
I couldn't run from it anymore. I was going to tell Spencer Walter Reid what I felt for him. And I was going to do it the following day. How? With my original plan: I was going to bring his favorite breakfast to his house. I was going to apologize for being a jerk, and I was going to invite him over for dinner. I was going to cook his favorite. Then I was slowly and carefully going to handpick the right words to tell him I am desperately in love with him.
That sounded like a good plan. My phone rang, forcing me to roll on that couch, but I carried Spencer's sweater with me. It was Penelope.
- "Please don't tell me we've got a case."
- "No, munchkin. I just wanted to check on you. What happened to James?"
- "I blew him off- I stood up and walked to the kitchen to make my cup of tea- "It was kind of painful."
- "I'm glad you did anyway. You have to do the right thing."
- "Yeah, I guess,"- I closed the widow 'cos there was a lot of yelling coming from the street.
- "Where are you?- Penelope asked, probably hearing it too.
- "At home, getting ready for bed."
- "What's that noise?"
- "I don't know. I think there's a fight downstairs. Anyway, tomorrow I'm gonna talk with Spencer and tell him everything."
- "Please let me know how that goes!!"- I chuckled as I heard the genuine excitement in her voice.
- "I promise I will. Thank you for checking on me."
- "Anytime, munchkin. Sleep tight."
Spencer's point of view
- "Oh shit! Oh shit!"
I saw (Y/N) getting out of James's car, and Derek had to hold me on my seat to stop me from running over. We were parked outside of her building, and Morgan was still trying to convince me to go home. I told him I would behave and peacefully go home if I saw (Y/N) reaching her home safe and sound... without James.
But no. He was there. I could see him walking with her, hand in hand, to her building.
- "Maybe he is just going to take her to her door,"- Morgan said, trying to calm me down. I clenched my fist and waited in silence for a few seconds. But James didn't leave her at her door. He followed her inside. And that was when I lost it and literally jumped off the car.
- "Reid!! No!! Wait!!"- Derek ran behind me and grabbed my arm. A car passed and honked at us, 'cos it almost ran me over. I wanted to yell, "Fuck you!" but I barely noticed it. My eyes were locked at that building's door.
- "Dude! Come on, get back in the car!"- Derek tried to calm me down.
- "No!"- I argued and kept pulling my arm, trying to get free of his hands. But he wasn't letting me go.
- "You are drunk! You are not thinking straight! Come on!!"
- "No! Let me go! I need to talk to her!
- "What you wanna tell her, you should confess sober, with flowers... and chocolates, or whatever she likes."
- "I can't wait anymore!! I can't wait until it's perfect!! He is going to kiss her again and... and I can't deal with that!!"- I managed to get loose of Derek's hand and ran to (Y/N)'s building the second James walked out of it.
My blood boiled as soon as I saw him, and my first instinct was to punch him, But I managed to suppress it. Instead, I just looked at him threateningly. Or at least that's what I tried to do.
- "What's your problem, dude?"- James frowned as he noticed me staring.
- "You are my problem, dude,"- I answered with a snarky tone as that asshole took a step closer and shook his head.
- "What the fuck?!"
- "Stay the fuck away from (Y/N), James,"- I said, and he widened his eyes, surprised I knew him.
- "Who the hell are you?!"
- "I am the love of her life, and you are in the way of our forever after."
- "Kid, come on"- Derek tried to pull me away, but he was just embarrassing me.
- "Yes, kid. Go with your buddy. Leave (Y/N) to me."
James chuckled and turned around. And I don't know what took over me, but I couldn't control it. I ran to him and pulled his shoulder. I felt the pain of my fist hitting his face, but I didn't care if my knuckles were on fire. All I could feel was the profound pleasure of finally breaking that guy's nose with my own hands.
- "What the fuck?!"- Derek was in shock, and honestly, so was I. I didn't know I had that in me. I had never gotten in a fight that wasn't with an unsub. And still, on the field, I always tried to talk my way out of every conflict.
- "He has to back off! He is getting in the middle of my relationship with my pumpkin!!"- I argued and looked at my hand, knowing it would be sore in the morning. That was when James's fist collided against my jaw, and I felt how my whole body nearly spun like a cartoon with the strength of the blow.
- "Hey! Hey! Stop!"- Derek pulled James away from me as I touched my face, trying to put two and two together.
- "Tell your friend to stay away from me, or I'm gonna break his face!!"
- "You and which army?!"- I yelled and tried to punch him again, but Morgan stayed between us, trying to keep us apart.
- "Ok, ok, calm down, we are leaving! Reid! Come on!!"
- "No!! I am not leaving until I am sure that he is going to stay away from her!!"
- "Stay away from (Y/N)? Deal! Now get the fuck away from me!"- James shoved me on his way to his car, and I nearly hit him again. But Derek stopped me. He grabbed my arms and pushed me to his car.
- "Enough! I'll take you home."
***
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Next update: July 7th, 2021
#Spencer Reid#matthew gray gubler#Criminal Minds#Spencer Reid fanfiction#Spencer Reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid hurt#spencer reid angst#babymetaldoll writes#diwk#Penelope Garcia#Ashley Seaver#Emily Prentiss#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfiction
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c!Quackity's form of manipulation is interesting because, although he is definitely lying and purposefully being deceitful, and although he is very much being extremely manipulative by preying on people's insecurities and using what cuts the most deep to them in order to get them to do what he wants, there's also this sense that you get that, at least on some level, c!Quackity genuinely believes the general themes and meanings of what he is saying and trying to convince others of to be true.
I think it ultimately stems from the idea that a lot of c!Quackity's manipulation and convincing attempts he's made in the past few streams are absolutely loaded with self-projection. He, whether it is subconsciously or not, is not only choosing the members of Las Nevadas due to their skill set, what they can provide for him, or because they're currently in a lost, weakened mental state (although those all are a large part of it). In each of the planned additions we've seen so far (Foolish, Purpled, and Fundy), there has been a sense of himself, or an old version of himself, that c!Quackity has noticed in each of them, or at least projected onto them. Each of them represent an old ideal or version of Quackity, something that is very deep-cutting and central to his current philosophies and behavior. And in his attempts to convince them to join Las Nevadas, while he was also being purposefully deceitful, manipulative, and was weaponizing their insecurities, there was also this underlying sense that c!Quackity himself was lashing out, that he was trying to break through to them with what he believes is true due to his past experiences, and in doing so, was forcefully projecting a lot of his own insecurities, both past and present, onto them.
Take c!Foolish, for example. To c!Quackity, yes, he wants to use c!Foolish for his power and weaponize him, but c!Foolish is also representative of a former version of himself. A version that wholeheartedly believed in peace, believed in diplomatic relations in politics and was optimistic about improving the world around him through nonviolence, negotiation, friendships, and love. But now, c!Quackity is adamant about taking power by force, using any means necessary, however unethical and morally dark they may be. He doesn't believe that peace and diplomacy can work anymore, and believes that Foolish is, well, foolish, for thinking they can. c!Quackity believes it is a fruitless venture to pursue the betterment of the world through peace, diplomatic relations, and waiting in hope for something to go right. This is something he wholeheartedly believes now, and is trying to instill that belief in c!Foolish (albeit, through morally corrupt and pretty deceitful ways). c!Quackity looks back on that old, idealistic version of himself and sees wasted potential. He sees plans that never worked, philosophies that were flimsy and bound to fail, and ideas that never paid off. He sees his old self a fool. That is partially why, when faced with this person with such similar ideals and beliefs to his old self, c!Quackity can't do anything but openly experience frustration, and a little bit of disappointment and disgust. (Continuation under cut).
And then there's c!Purpled. In his conversations with c!Purpled, Quackity emphasizes the fact that Purpled has no legacy left. Everything he has is gone, he has nothing for people to remember him for, so he and his contributions don't matter. And c!Quackity then chalks this all up to be the fault of not only Purpled himself, but of the people, the powerful people and figures of authority, that have reduced him to being nothing and have overlooked him, used him. A lot of this speech is definitely c!Quackity being morally dubious in his attempts to recruit Purpled, but there was also this underlying sense of desperation in this scene, of growing emotion and frustration...specifically on Quackity's end. I want to talk about this quote in particular: "You will be a big part of history. Finally, you won't be used by shit people like Dream, or anyone else who has used you for your abilities, and for your skills, and for anything you've ever done on this server." This is a clear sign of projection, as a lot of this quote applies to c!Quackity far more than it applies to c!Purpled (although it can apply to Purpled as well.) Quackity has always felt undermined and used by those above him, whether it be Dream, Schlatt, or anyone else. He's always hated those who he views as tyrants and those who have manipulated or used him to their own benefit. I particularly remember a scene where Quackity, back in the Manberg era, was fuming over the fact that he felt that c!Schlatt was using him, playing him for a fool and using him for his political abilities.
There's also the fact that, due to him constantly being undermined by those above him, nearly every single one of Quackity's plans or ideas have been rejected, or have catastrophically failed. He was left with nothing. This is particularly clear during his pre-Doomsday stream, when Quackity reflects on how so many of his plans have failed, and was left to wonder if anything, and anything he's done for L'manberg, really even matters. Having his plans constantly foiled and being constantly undermined and "used" by those above him with more power, by "shit people," left him hopeless, with a sense of having nothing left he truly had faith in. That is, until Las Nevadas. Not to mention, the idea of being "forgotten" is one that most likely rings true to Quackity, even if he won't admit it to himself, as he's still troubled over being supposedly "forgotten" by his fiances. So, in a way, that's another small example of, although c!Quackity was being purposefully manipulative towards c!Purpled and was weaponizing his insecurities against him, there was still present that deep-rooted idea that, at least on some level, Quackity believes a decent part of what he was saying to Purpled because his arguments were rooted in his beliefs and frustrations with being used and overlooked in the past, although they have become laced and corrupted by his manipulation attempts.
And lastly, there's c!Fundy. This is probably the most blatant example of c!Quackity partially, most likely unknowingly, slipping out of a manipulative mindset for a small while in order to project onto somebody he sees a similar past version of himself in, or reminds him of past qualities and experiences of himself. He brings up again, quite passionately, that idea of being constantly overlooked by people with more power than you, of being oppressed and being told what you can and can't do. Now, of course, he's also being manipulative and deceitful here, because Quackity knows full well that c!Fundy would be enticed by this argument and would be able to relate. He knows that Fundy had a thirst for recondition and a desire not to be oppressed, not to be told what he can and can't do, as well as to have someone give him admiration and affection. He uses this to his advantage, in order to craft a pitch that Fundy couldn't refuse. He even uses people that don't truly have much power, such as c!Tommy, as examples of people that has had power over he and Fundy in the past (although, it's possible that c!Quackity's trust issues have lead him to believe that to be true as well, but that's a different topic and only a theory).
Point being, Quackity is clearly being manipulative here, and he knows it. In all of these situations, there is a good chance that he knows he's not being morally right. He mentions it to c!Sam, making a joke that implies he knows he's not the "good guy."
However.
I do still believe that c!Quackity somewhat believes some of that pitch to Fundy himself, as well. Because he too, has really had similar situations as he describes Fundy having. He was overlooked and pushed around by Schlatt, told what he could and couldn't do. He was told what he could and couldn't do in the early days, when he wanted to join L'manberg. He was even foiled by Techno and Dream, used by Dream in particular, numerous times. He had to have an entire revolution in order to gain the right to declare independence for what was a tiny little hill.
A lot of what makes Quackity's manipulation and lies interesting is that, unlike others like c!Dream, his lies are laced with truth. When he manipulates someone, he doesn't usually just flat-out lie to them, and doesn't always just make stuff up. He takes their insecurities, accentuates them, and then uses them in order to attempt to manipulate the ideologies and motives of the person he's speaking to. And, as I've mentioned before, he projects. This makes it much easier for him to manipulate them, because he can connect to them and develop an understanding of their thought process. But it's also a way for him to subconsciously vent his trauma, his frustrations, and his insecurities.
Quackity is a character that doesn't speak about his emotions often, at least not anymore. To him, "there is no place for emotions in Las Nevadas." He doesn't want to get hurt, so he won't open up. So, in these manipulation attempts, attempts to use others, there's also this subconscious sense of Quackity taking his own frustrations, his own insecurities, and casting them onto somebody else as a way of venting and trying to find a solution to them. He speaks and rants about things that he partially believes are true, about violence over diplomacy, about being tired of being overlooked and used. From there, he can take these frustrations and make action out of them. Find a solution for the troubles and frustrations that now totally belong to the other person as well. This solution being the thing he sees as the solution for his own troubles: Las Nevadas. Because in reality, Las Nevadas isn't really the solution to any of the other people's problems. It's not the solution to Foolish's issues, or Purpled's issues, or Fundy's issues. But Quackity, in his desperation for a sense of his own agency, for a legacy, for an impact he can make on the world, sees it as the solution to his, and he wants that belief to be validated by seeing it as the solution to others' problems as well.
Now, of course Quackity, on some level deep down, knows that Las Nevadas isn't meant to help or heal the people he's recruiting. He does indeed partially want them for what they can offer him, their power, their skills, and so on. He is being manipulative in a lot of his words and actions because he knows he's using underhanded methods in order to recruit people that he can use. But, as I've stated before, Quackity has a tendency to think, at least on some level, that his actions are for the sake of ending oppression on others. He's hypocritical, in a way, and that's always been a part of his character, back since New L'manberg days at least. He's wanted power for himself and is willing to use people to do so, but also strongly believes that he's ending oppression and he's helping out those who are being "used" by tyrants. I think there's a similar situation here, although he's a lot more cynical and views himself as less of a hero now, and acknowledges that he's willing to use unjust methods and use others. He's slightly more self-aware of his misdeeds.
But he's still heavily projecting his own beliefs, insecurities, and ideals a lot, and I just find that interesting. It's a fascinating part of his character's thought process, because as I've stated before, he's aware that he's being manipulative, but his manipulation is still laced with partial truths, truths that he himself believes to an extent. c!Quackity is an incredibly interesting character, and his forms of convincing and manipulation reveal a lot of his inner thought process that he tends to prefer to keep hidden away, for his own sake.
#dream smp#dsmp#quackity#c!quackity#fundy#c!fundy#foolish gamers#c!foolish gamers#purpled#c!purpled#dsmp spoilers#tw manipulation#tw violence#tw swearing#tw cursing#/rp
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S6 Thoughts: A Tale of Two Brothers
But wait! There’s more. Thoughts on the overall arc of the series, Heaven and Hell edition:
In S1, Lucifer is “vacationing” on Earth but doesn’t plan to return to Hell. Amenadiel spends that season trying so hard to force Lucifer back to Hell, where he “belongs,” that he himself Falls. We’ve got this role reversal of an angel doing evil things to return the devil (doing ... good things, like solving crimes) to Hell. It’s all very “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
In S2, Lucifer still has no plans to return permanently to Hell, but he’s willing to face it to save Chloe. Of course, this then leads to him experiencing his own forced hell-loop. Amenadiel is also conflicted. Though he’s changed enough that he no longer wants to force Lucifer back to Hell, he’s still uncertain where that leaves either of them. In fact, even when Lucifer pleads with Amenadiel to return him to Hell, Amenadiel refuses. However, when Mum plants the idea of returning to Heaven as a family, Amenadiel clings to that. He’s looking for a purpose. Lucifer, on the other hand, is still very much aboard the Heaven nope train. Here, we also get the foreshadowing of celestial war, and Lucifer’s rejection of Mum’s plan because “In war, there are always casualties.” He would rather sacrifice one--Mum, Uriel--for the many. But it hurts him. If he belongs anywhere, he thinks, it’s Earth ... but, ultimately, that’s shortsighted because we know he doesn’t actually want to be on an Earth that doesn’t have the people he’s coming to care about on it.
S3 is, as we all know, a bit of a mess. But, hey, it’s actually thematically appropriate! Lucifer’s having an identity crisis (wings) that just keeps giving (or taking), and even though subconsciously (we later realize) he gave himself the wings because he was, in fact, making progress reconciling his past and present, his conscious is backsliding like (pun not intended) hell. Much as he wants Earth to be home, he’s got these non-stop reminders of both Heaven and Hell. It makes complete narrative sense that this season reaches the point where he can no longer hide from himself--or from Chloe.
In this season, we also see Amenadiel really start to settle into the idea of staying on Earth, of embracing humanity. He’s shedding the aloofness he once had. He’s learning (we later realize) how to be the kind of God who sheds mysterious ways in favor of boots on the ground. I mean, he doesn’t realize this. But Dad ... well, he has a Plan. Lucifer begins the season with sudden wings. Amenadiel ends it with his wings’ very deliberate return.
In many ways, this season is about Hell on Earth and torture at the hands of an entity far more intentionally and deliberately evil than the actual devil. This is why the catalyst of Cain is so important. He is all the things Lucifer has been accused of being, only he embraces it in ways we’ve seen Lucifer reject and recoil from again and again. This season is torture (lol). It’s Hell. It’s every ugly thing lies beget. And much as we love Lucifer, we’re given an extreme close-up of how his omission of truth is very nearly as devastating as Cain’s outright lies. Of course, this nearly results in Chloe’s death (in more ways than one; you can’t tell me that godforsaken marriage wouldn’t have been like dying), and the devil’s vengeance results in the removal of Lucifer’s choice about the where and when to reveal his true nature to Chloe.
Which brings us to S4, aka The Season of Angst. For Lucifer (and Chloe), anyway. Not so much for Amenadiel, who is set on the path of fatherhood, of responsibility, of partnership and not just commands he expects to be followed. In case we’ve forgotten how much Amenadiel has changed, Remiel “mini-Amen” shows up to remind us. In Linda’s “When angels fall, they also rise” of it, Amenadiel is rising again. He’s not the same as he was, no, but ... we didn’t like old Amenadiel very much, did we? Like Lucifer, Amenadiel is on a journey of learning who he is, the good and the ugly, so he can choose the parts he wants to keep with both eyes open.
Of course, while Amenadiel is rising, Lucifer is falling. In having to deal with Chloe’s reaction to his devil face, Lucifer is put in the uncomfortable position of either growing enough to face his own darkness and self-loathing or retreating, very literally, into who he used to be because it’s comfortable and less frightening than the prospect of change and the unknown. Until it isn’t, right? The more he becomes the devil Eve remembers, the more uncomfortable he becomes. And the more frightening he becomes. Not to Chloe, as he fears, but to himself--though it takes a while to recognize it. If nothing else, we have to hand this to Lucifer’s subconscious: when it wants him to PAY ATTENTION DUMMY, it’s pretty good at getting its point across. If S3 was Hell on Earth starring Cain as the devil, S4 is Hell on Earth starring, well, the devil as the devil with bonus demons. It’s Lucifer’s earthbound iteration of a guilt-induced hell-loop. And at the tragic end, he chooses to return to the place he swore he’d never return, losing everything good in the process, but doing it for selfless reasons. So, that’s new. And it’s why there was still a sliver of hope even when things looked impossibly dark.
S5 begins with Lucifer in Hell--farther from the things he cares about than he has ever been, but also closer to his true calling. Not that he realizes it; this is Lucifer we’re talking about. So, of course it makes sense that as the season goes on, he’ll end up confused by suddenly having everything he always thought he wanted within his grasp. The Lucifer who led a rebellion against his father because he thought he could do better than God? Of course that part of him wants to be handed the job now. No--he wants to earn it. And while some of his reasons are not great, others are. His heartbreak about the injustice and unfairness of life, well ... who hasn’t felt that way? Who hasn’t wanted the power to unilaterally make things better? But that’s not how free will works. That’s not how choice works. While Lucifer wrestles with the necessity of becoming God, Amenadiel recoils from what his S1 self would have seen as his right and his calling. S1 Amenadiel would have made a terrifying and inflexible and absolute and judgmental God. Perhaps even a God closer to our imaginings of Evil than Good.
S6 is about how sometimes personal growth means we grow out of old dreams and acquire new ones. Sometimes, it’s about reimagining those old dreams, rebuilding them with new information. For Amenadiel, that means recognizing that the person he is now is the best man for the Big Job. It means recognizing that Heaven can be (a place) on Earth if he wants it to be. It means he sets aside the pride of “If God wants something done, he sends ME” in favor of delegation and accepting help--and in doing so, helping others (his siblings) discover their callings too. He learns to lead by example, tempered with love and humility.
In Paradise Lost, Milton’s Lucifer famously declares that it is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven. But our Lucifer ... his calling isn’t ruling in Heaven. That’s the old dream of a person who no longer exists. Ironically, Lucifer’s calling is to serve in Hell. Not to serve a distant, ineffable, unfathomable being’s mysterious ways, mind you, but to tangibly serve the humans he has come to love, and who have taught him so much about himself. Who have taught him about love and sacrifice and light and darkness and second chances and hope and faith. When Lucifer chooses to return to Hell, he does so with his eyes open, just as Chloe returns to the LAPD with her eyes open. It’s a lesson that revisits the first episode of the season: Truth and wonder don’t have to be at odds. They can go hand in hand. The mysteries at the heart of pain and suffering and trauma--those are the ones Lucifer wants to solve. Because solving them isn’t about trusting to a higher power (aka the justice system, which is flawed) or designing the perfect torture. It’s about quite literally helping others set themselves free. Finding release. It’s about being a guide, not a judge. And it’s about fulfilling not the temporary desire that merely scratches the itch, but offering the tools necessary to help others determine--choose--their path to the desire they may not even realize is buried beneath the layers of scar tissue within them. And what could be more wonderous than that? Especially when you have a partner who makes you better at your calling, even as you make them better at theirs.
In the end, Heaven and Hell are what we make of them. One person’s Heaven is another person’s Hell. Love is what matters. In all its many, many forms.
#lucifer on netflix#lucifer morningstar#amenadiel#lucifer meta#chloe decker#lucifer thoughts#lucifer spoilers#lucifer s6#lucifer s6 spoilers#long text post
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I want to ask the SasuSaku fans out there a few questions that I'm genuinely curious about.
When does Sasuke fall in love with Sakura?
I believe personally he did care about her, he learned to see her as his comrade, friend, and family, which he has stated multiple times. Never once is he shown to see her as anything more, until Shippuden when gives her the forehead poke. He, in my opinion, treats her worse than Naruto and has on multiple occasions. By this I mean a lot harsher then he has treated Naruto until the hospital fight, then with at the valley of the end.
Why do you ship them when he has treated her so horribly. Yes, he has saved her on multiple occasions and had seen her as family, but it does not excuse his behavior towards her. Most of the time she does deserve it, like when he called her annoying for the first time.
He has insulted, saying she was worse than Naruto (weak), because she decides to flirt instead of train. He lifted her up once that I have seen when he saw she was acting strange, (he doesn't wink at her, but he does smirk) he acknowledges her skills in genjutsu. If there is more I'd like to know.
I don't see him grabbing her hand when he was in excruciating pain a sign of love, it's not, or him leaning on her when he's weak a sign either. I see it as him being in pain and needing comfort.
He glares at her a lot. He has saved Naruto on multiple occasions and uses idiot, moron, dope, as a form of teasing Naruto, not an insult. No, it's not the same as him calling Sakura annoying.
Sasuke, gripped Sakura's arm roughly and told her to mind her own business when she was trying to tell the others about Sasuke's mark. Slapped a plate of apples out of her hand and walks passed her to fight Naruto.
Yes, he apologies when he leaves, because he saw her as his comrade and family before cutting their bond.
I don't like Sakura for a lot of reasons I may post about later, but she did not deserve to be treated horribly. She asked for it when she ignored his rejections and his blunt and harsh treatment towards her.
In Shippuden, Sasuke nearly kills Naruto, this should have been the sign to push her romantic feelings to the side (she shouldn't have had them at all) and focus on detaining or killing Sasuke. He is a clear threat to the team, herself, and many others. Sakura tries to kill Saskue, but can't go through with it so she almost gets killed herself by his hands.
During the war arc, Sasuke pays no attention to her until that moment with Obito where he catches her after she nearly falls from using to much chakra and they eye fuck. Yes, he protects her during the war when she wasn't paying attention. He puts her in a genjutsu where he's stabbing her in the chest!! He even states he has no reason to love her, nor does she have any reason to love him. How is this love, it's abuse. Then there's the forehead poke, I can't say much. Some believe it's his way of showing affection, other's its his way of putting distance between the two.
I personally think it should have stayed between the brother's. As when Itachi told him the truth of that gesture, it would have changed the meaning entirely for me.
Sasuke leaves on this atonement journey, he specifically tells Sakura this has nothing to do with her. It was about him and his sins. Why, the hell does she chase him down, abandoning her duties as a medical ninja. He knocks her up and marries her, then they decide its a good idea to let her give birth in one of Orochimaru's old hideouts with Karin.
They return to th village by the time they are twenty after Sarada is born, then Sasuke leaves on a confidential mission to keep Konoha safe from the other Kaguya like beings.
Through out all of this, Sakura has no pictures of them or him, knows nothing personal about him (other then the sharigan and uchiha family massarce business) and she can't even say she has kissed him.
During Gaiden it tells us they had no communication for eleven or twelve years. Sarada is miserable, because she knows literally nothing about her father. Sakura know nothing about Sasuke and tells Sarada nothing. Sakura is still so insecure that she yells at Sarada for asking reasonable questions that she punches the ground and causes Sarada to cry, but she only apologies for raising her voice.
How is Naruto the only one to answer any of Sarada's questions polite and honestly.
When Sarada meets Sasuke, he nearly assaults her, is rude to her when she asks why he had been gone for so long. Then when Sakura returns she doesn't immediately check on Sarada, but lies saying she meant to tell Sarada properly. Sasuke says "No, no matter how you look at it is my fault." He glares then says "As for me." He is pissed. Then Sakura gets kidnapped.
Also, why the hell does Karin have Sarada'a umbilical cord. That's weird.
Later on they meet with Orochimaru, I don't understand Sasuke when he says, "My wife isn't (that) weak."
It isn't until after they save Sakura does she hug Sarada. Also, just because Sarada says Shannaroo and can punch a crater in the ground, that doesn't mean anything.
Sarada asks Sasuke if his feelings were connected to Sakura, he says "Yeah". How does he know, because Sarada exists.
Its also strange that Sarada uses herself as a barrier between Sasuke and Ino, just because Ino says hi and welcomes him back. Why is that? When Sasuke leaves he gives Sarada a poke and hugs her, but leaves Sakura with nothing after she begs for a kiss. He leaves with a see you later!! I read the Gaiden, I don't see him smirking in this panel to tease Sakura.
I do believe Sakura is Sarada's mother and bio mother.
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Hi! Could you please do some Kuroshitsuji headcanons for Undertaker, Grell, and Ceil, with a s/o who had recently got the hanahaki disease(if you don't know what hanahaki is it's just a disease from one sided love that can make you cough up flowers. It can only be cured by having the other love you back, or surgery)?
Hey! Of course! I love the hanahaki disease AU so much! Always wanted to write it but never have... So thanks for the request! I will try to do it well! (´。• ω •。`) I didn’t know if you wanted to have it fluffy or angsty so I made it angsty... (>﹏<)
Many fans argued about Grell/Grelle’s pronounce and I’ve read many different things too, which is why I will use they/them for Grell. Sorry, if some people won’t be happy about it! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
I will also edit it later to put pics in there. Didn’t find any good ones I might want to use, so sorry if they don’t have any yet! (〃>_<;〃)
Warning: Angsty! (no happy ends)
Hanahaki Disease AU
⚰️ “Oh my, how interesting!” Said the whitehaired man, as he glanced into the trash can. How it seemed his dear friend had a little secret!
⚰️ In there he found several flowers strained in the purest bloody red he could ever find, but some one tried to hide it from him, how it seemed.
⚰️ Now his fun had begun.
⚰️ “(Y/N).” You heard him voice call you, when you helped him out in his funeral parlor. Glancing back at the giggling mess, you called a friend and behind his back a crush, he threw something at your direction. Thanks to your fast reflexes you caught it items he just threw a second ago to you.
⚰️ It looked very similar to a bloody flower you tried to hide…
⚰️ “Looks like someone has the hanahaki disease!” He chuckled and wiggled with his eyebrows. “Sooo, who is it?” But the old Grim Reaper never got an answer, because you run out as fast as possible.
⚰️ Of course the old man would laugh at it! It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t great. You were in pain for so many weeks. Months! You were coughing and coughing, sometimes even choking on these damn flowers, hoping that your love for this maniac will soon disappear, but it never did. You wished it so much, but how did idiot made you fall for him even more?!
⚰️ No matter how often you tried to hide yourself from this man, he found you, asking you why your disease still didn’t disappear, asking you who you loved, asking you why your beloved didn’t love you back! Why for goodness sake did he had to be so charming and annoying at the very same time!?
⚰️ “Leave me alone!” You yelled at him, as more flowers came out of your mouth, trying to choke you.
⚰️ “You know… If you really hate this flowers so much, why don’t you just-?“ - “No.” You interrupted him.
⚰️ Surgery? No thank you. You were to scared to never fall for somebody ever again. Losing the funny memories of him…? This great and warm feeling you had, whenever you thought of your dearest Undertaker?
⚰️ Everybody said that love is great. It makes you happy, but it also has one price. Pain. Yes, that is truly a feeling that you know too well. You felt it every day, not because of the long-haired man, not, because of your disease.
⚰️ You knew that Undertaker loved his “guests” and the dead more than anybody else. There was nothing that he loved more and that is why, you were so sure, that he would never love you back. Undertaker wasn’t somebody who would easily love another living person. He was different and he only wanted to have strange and funny things in his life, which is why you always thought of yourself as not worthy for him.
⚰️ But some weeks later, you sat there under the table, staring at the blood strained flower in your hand, when you heard a knock on your door. “(Y/N)!” You heard a giggling voice. Undertaker.
⚰️ Will you let him in? Will you tell him what you choose? To take the surgery? Risk so many things or just keep on going…?
👠 Every time you heard a specific person screaming “Sebastiaaaaaan!~ ❤️”, you just rolled with your eyes. But how comes, that your heart was yearning for that one person so much, that didn’t love you back.
👠 Grell had only they eyes on Sebastian and it made you jealous and angry. Couldn’t the redhead love you too? But of course not. You will probably never be as great as the black-haired demon.
👠 One day, you woke up, after realizing that you had strong feelings for the crazy Grim Reaper, you rushed to the bathroom, feeling something in your throat, but no matter how much you coughed, it didn’t come out until your eyes started to tear up. Was it… blood? Why did you taste blood? What was going out? When you coughed harder and harder, it finally came out of your throat. Flower petals and blood. Shocked, you stared at it. No… Why…? Why did that happen?!
👠 You knew from day one that you’ve got that horrible disease, because of Grell. No, he wouldn’t want to hurt you, for you two are good friends, but the long-haired Grim Reaper did not love you back. That is why you coughed flowers up, felt this pain, had to clean your clothes from your blood. It was because of your hurtful one-sided love!
👠 “He looked so wonderful; don’t you agree?! ❤️ Just so perfect and so-… Mh? (Y/N)? Are you alright? Why are you coughing so much? Do you want me to get you something to drink?” You shook your head.
👠 Nothing could help you with your problem, except if one of two things happen to you. Either Grell loves you back or… a surgery. You were sure, that the one you loved from the bottom of your heart, would never love you back but a surgery? Was it really necessary? If you will choose this, you will never love Grell ever again. Some people even told you, that they lost their memories of their beloved ones and some others of the ability to ever love again.
👠 Day after day passed and here you stood. In front of your trash can, looking at the flowers you used to love before you’ve got your disease. They were so beautiful, but they were strained with your red blood. It smelled horrible and looked disgusting in there. You never wanted to see it ever again.
👠 Grell’s eyes widen when he walked into your room, to ask you for your opinion on their new outfit, but when the redhead couldn’t find you, he noticed the smell of blood. Slowly, they walked to your trash can to see the flowers and immediately knew what sign it was. He knew of this disease. Why was somebody so horrible and didn’t loved you back? Afterall you were Grell’s best friend! The Grim Reaper knew you better than anybody else! But he never realized that you have fallen for somebody!
👠 Quickly they followed a loud noise, Grell heard nearby and saw you lying on the ground.
👠 You looked so sleepy on the ground. So tired. In your weak hands you held three bloody flowers, while the other was in front of your mouth, keeping it shut.
👠 “Hey, (Y/N)! Come on! Wake up! Tell me, what should I do?” Grell panicked.
👠 Now you had to choose… Will you have that surgery or will you live until the day the flowers close your throat and let you sleep there where the Grim Reaper never wanted to see you in for, they will never reciprocate your feelings
♕ “Should we continue, or do you prefer something else, (Y/N)?” Asked the one and only head of the Phantomhive house. “What are you thinking about? You are distracted. Our entire chess game.” – “Mh? Nothing.” You lied and Ciel knew it.
♕ So what exactly was going on in the head of yours? Some might think important business thoughts and some others mayhap that you were thinking about the usual things people in your age thought about. But the truth was… Nothing.
♕ The only thing you did on your chair was actually to not start coughing.
♕ The reason? Ciel. You fell for him. Hard. Which was not a good idea, because you knew him. You knew every secret of him. He not only told you about it, because you were a dear friend of his and he trusted you, but also because he saw you as a sibling.
♕ It hurt you, but this wasn’t the only pain you felt for the couple of weeks, no. It was the pain in your body.
♕ Everyday and every night you coughed up big flowers and flower petals, only because your feeling weren’t reciprocate.
♕ A few friends even told you, that it could be possible for him to fall for you, but you never believed them. Sure, he didn’t love his fiancée like you loved him, but he only had his eyes on one thing. His goal. The one and only reason for him to summon a demon and make a pact with it! Revenge.
♕ Even thought you never liked the idea, you supported him, thanks to your strong feelings. This very warm feeling you held for him, which guided you towards him.
♕ It made you sick.
♕ So sick, that you started coughing again and rushing out of the room, while Ciel called after you and run a few steps after you until he glanced down to see a small bloody flower petal. Was it always there…?
♕ But Ciel was smart. Very smart, which is why he figured out why you have run away.
♕ He knew of your love for him and tried to reject you gently, which made your disease worse than it already was.
♕ It started with you coughing them to you nearly choking on them, desperate to breath, always grasping on something while the most beautifulest flowers left your body. Petal after petal.
♕ Ciel even suggested to help you find a doctor, but you declined it. It was your problem and you were old enough to make your own decisions! You wanted to choose it on your own if you wanted to have this surgery or… well… Sleep forever…
♕ But the day has come, where you stood in front of Ciel and told him your decision and hopefully he will support you like in all those years he stood by your side…
#Kuroshitsuji#kuroshitsuji imagines#black butler#kuroshitsuji x reader#black butler imagines#black butler x reader#ciel phantomhive#ciel phantomhive x reader#ciel phantomhive imagines#undertaker#undertaker x reader#undertaker imagines#kuroshitsuji undertaker#kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader#kuroshitsuji undertaker imagines#black butler undertaker#black butler undertaker x reader#black butler undertaker imagines#grell sutcliff#grelle sutcliff#grell sutcliff x reader#grell sutcliff imagines#grelle sutcliff imagines#grelle sutcliff x reader#hanahaki disease#hanahaki
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Say My Name
Summary: When Death’s heart breaks.
Henry Cavill AUxOC
Rating: E
Warning: It is terribly angst ridden. Supernatural themes.
A/N: So..... It’s been a minute. I’ve had some writers block, not gonna lie. However, I did have a little inspiration tonight and popped this little angsty morsel out. I would like to credit Meet Joe Black and Emily Dickinson for this bit of inspiration.
Poem credit: Emily Dickinson: Because I Could Not Stop For Death.
xXx
This was a mistake.
He was bound to make one sometime, he supposed.
But it didn’t feel like a mistake and he couldn’t say that he would have changed one thing if he had the power of time – the ability to turn back the clock and do things over again. He would openly admit that he would do it all again. Experience everything over.... if only to hold on to the fragile, exquisite joy and love that had blossomed with in his shriveled heart.
Even though it left him here... in quiet agony as he stared into the dark realization and innate fear that his mere presence instinctively caused. He had lied enough; it was up to her whether she wanted to accept the truth.
“You’re...?” Her lips trembled, unable to voice the words. Unable to give reality to the thought. It was so far-fetched. Muted horror welled in her gut, quelled only by the visceral scream of denial in her ear, “You’re...?”
He stood there, ever patient as he waited for the final blow to land. He knew what was to come. The distaste and need to get away from him, once she accepted what he was – what she had fallen in love with. It hurt already and wasn’t that strange?
He had never understood this kind of pain before – he felt like a piece of paper that had been torn and turned into bland confetti. Stranger still was how that pain matter so little in the face of hers. He wanted nothing more than to reach for her, to comfort her and in so doing – comfort himself. Yet, uncertainty grasped his limbs. It would hurt him more should she reject his touch now and so he kept still. Afraid for the first time... Well, for the first time.
She surprised him when instead, she reached for his cheek. Her delicate fingers soothing the faint grizzle of his cheek as if checking to make sure he was real. He nearly closed his eyes to that touch, but he couldn’t. His gaze remained blank, because even as she forced a smile the truth lurked in her gleaming orbs.
“You’re Henry.” She breathed at last, and he was struck.
Unholy surprised and yet...not. A faint sense of bitterness coalesced within his borrowed veins and he smiled dully. Denial it was.
Perhaps...Perhaps, it was kinder. He smiled in surrender as he let his quiet pain surge and pressed his lips to her palm, “Yes...I am Henry.”
She swallowed tightly and leaned into his touch as she tried to ignore a wave of grief – unsure if it was his or hers that she was feeling. All she knew was that she didn’t want to let him go.
Henry trailed his mouth from her silky hand to her gentle lips, claiming a kiss that felt cold and tasted salty – though neither had shed a tear. It was painful and he wanted more than anything to prolong that touch, but too soon she pulled away.
A wild desperation spurring her tongue, “Don’t say goodbye.”
He tightened the hand that had come to rest on her hip. Imprinting her curves into his memory as he nodded, “No goodbye, merely an I love you... we should -”
He didn’t know the words, didn’t know what to do, but he needed to go. Time had run out. She took his lead and smiled.
Heading for the bathroom as she held heartily onto the last vestiges of denial, “Oh yes! We need to get ready for the performance tonight. I’m taking the shower first – you used all the hot water last time. Unless... you want to join me?”
He chuckled and shook his head, “Probably not the best idea right now.”
He would have if she had been able to say his true name. Had accepted him.
A rueful snort echoed back at him as she disappeared from view, “You’re right. You’ll make us late.”
“Yes.” He murmured and listened for the sound of the shower.
It wasn’t until the steady roar of the spray became impeded by her frame that he knew it was time to leave. He gathered his belongings and slipped out the door and was long gone by the time her shower ended.
No goodbyes.
She stayed under the steamy spray for an hour as she let the water wash away her tears. Almost cruelly, she heard his voice as an old poem a washed her thoughts.
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
And what a stop it was.
A ragged sob tore through her throat as she whispered, “I love you, Death.”
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Shadow Weaver’s Death, Her True Abusiveness, And Her Final, Beautiful, Gift To Catra
::The resistance fighters stand in the failsafe chamber. Catra has just called Shadow Weaver out on her manipulation. Shadow Weaver reluctantly explains the danger of the failsafe, and then implores Adora to take it: even if she fails, Shadow Weaver says, she will save her friends, and the universe. As literally every other person in that room cries out against Adora taking the risk, Adora turns and says she will do it. Catra, dismayed, runs to her telling her that Shadow Weaver is sacrificing her, and demands to know why she's letting her do that. Adora tells Catra "Because even if she is, it's better than Prime getting the Heart and destroying the universe." Catra trembles in deathly fear, her face consumed in terrible realization: if Adora does as SW wishes, she will die. Shadow Weaver is trying to kill Adora. She knows this to her very soul, because... she is Shadow Weaver... And Adora is letting it happen…
Hi there, my name is Joel, and in this segment I'll be looking at Shadow Weaver's death, her being a child abuser, her terrible manipulations of Catra and Adora and the monstrous pains the two girls have to conquer to save themselves from her.
The main premise I'll be trying to explain here is that, like Horde Prime, Shadow Weaver is a villain of utmost seriousness. And, like Horde Prime, the girls will treat her as one, surpassing and defeating her once and for all. But it won't be with violence, but instead with love, creating a beautiful story of two people transcending their trauma and hurt through coming together over their love for one another.
I feel obliged to warn readers: this post will cover child abuse, even predatation (*not sexual, ie). It may be hard to read. Also warning: tl;dr, please consider at least sitting down to read this!
Finally, I know there are Shadow Weaver fans out there; that's good. Shadow Weaver is, at times, cool af. But, definitively a terrible person within the plot of the show.
So, even if you're a fan of Shadow Weaver, I still encourage you to read along because as we reveal her truth and the damage she deals to Catra and Adora, it makes her final moment so, so much more beautiful… and it gives entirely new meaning to her final... two… words….
Disclaimer time: Taking on Shadow Weavers death is ambitious for a first post, I know. But understanding her is crucial to understanding most of the major moments in this show. Still, I should say here that while this may seem a bit ‘head’ canon-y, I assure you my conclusions come from watching the show carefully and referencing the entirety of the rest of the show back to this one moment. I'm instead positing these as theories, and let's just say I feel I have the data, and Data Never Lies! Please *do* ask questions or seek calcifications in the comments or Ask me anything (I'm new to Tumblr).
----Part 1: Catra, Micah, and the Truth----
To start this journey we will travel backwards in the series to investigate the what and why of the terrible child abuse Catra suffered growing up under Shadow Weaver's care. We will be looking chiefly at the Light Spinner episode in the 2nd season. We will cover Catra's confrontation and SW's -supposed- explanation for her abuse, then the tale of Micah and Shadow Weaver's manipulation of him, and then the terrible truth of why Catra -really- was abused.
>A terribly alone Catra asks her abusive mother why she did it. Why did she treat her so badly ?
Shadow Weaver answers: "Because you remind me of myself. You always have. Nothing was ever easy for me either. I wasn't born to power like Adora and... others. I had to earn my power, fight for it. Why should it be any different for you?"
This is a very typical reason for an abuser to feel they are acting out their abuse on others: no one in this world understands my pain, so therefore I will inflict my pain upon a child so that they will know my pain as well. For many people this is essentially the truth of their abusers. I can't see any other reason for MY abusers to do what they did, other than this. It is, however, not the truth about Catra. We will discuss this in detail later.
We then watch as Catra does a very strong and eloquent job of rejecting and condemning it. She shows great emotional pain as she does so, and we know that her trauma is severe from watching her. Catra exclaims, her face full of emotional hurt and pain at Shadow Weaver's betrayal: "I was a child when you took me in. What could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me? I am nothing like you. You are old, and bitter, and weak."
Everything she says is perfectly true. As a child, there is no way she could have deserved the abuse Shadow Weaver inflicted on her. There never is. And she's also right when she says she's not anything like Shadow Weaver. Where Shadow Weaver is an unfeeling monster (as we will see), Catra feels deeply. Catra is inherently good, and while she will make terrible mistakes to come, she feels intense remorse. Shadow Weaver simply does not.
So, Shadow Weaver gives Catra a believable reason for the abuse, which, again, is a lie. But... there is meaning which we need to take from her choice of words: Shadow Weaver feels others, like Adora and Micah, are given an unfair advantage over people like herself. We will come back to this important insight soon...
Before we get to the real, harsh truth of why Catra was abused, we need to understand the tale of Micah and ‘Light Spinner’-‘s manipulation of him to get power.
>The story of Micah seems to be full of whimsy and childlike innocence. A young boy is talented beyond his years, a true prodigy. SW trains him, giving him access to teachings beyond what a sorcerer of his age should have. She tells him he's special, a true talent, like her. When she tells him "the guild needs talents like OURS more than ever before" she manipulates him, making him feel apart, better than all the other students and teachers, and that only SW can understand. It's SW's greatest talent: dividing people against each other, and this is part of her lifelong manipulation of Catra and Adora. Note: Castaspella accuses SW of mind controlling Micah (s5e8) to which SW responds "My gifts were always far subtler than that” - SW controls young Micah through mind games.
>SW hints of something of great importance, but then says "you're not ready". Micah demands to know, he's a special boy after all, right? He's so incredibly naive and innocent, doing things like chewing on magic crystals and acting out in class. He is, in fact, exactly the kind of privileged child who SW so greatly hates. This is where we get real meaning out of SW's supposed explanation for abusing Catra: Micah has inborn power that SW feels he is unworthy of possessing...
She preys upon his naiveness, showing him the Horde army. He, of course, demands they be stopped, and he's playing right into her hands. When she tells him the plan and of the upcoming meeting she tells him "I only hope that Norwyn and his followers can see the threat as clearly as YOU do." Again, she is making him feel apart, as though he's better than others. After all, he's a special little prodigy, right ?
SW gives her presentation at the council, trying to prey upon their fear by saying that the Horde have a rune stone. As she speaks of the spell of obtainment, her eyes are full of lust at the idea of so much power. But it is forbidden, and for good reason. As she looks over her shoulder at Norwyn her look is severe, accusing. She has no respect for him. And he's right to say that the problem will be handled: the war, in fact, does become a stalemate and stays that way all the way up until we are first introduced to Catra and Adora. Angrily, greedily, she demands they get power so they can 'have a planet to protect'.
She fails to convince them, but of course Micah sees her leaving the meeting, angry and frustrated, so he comes to her aide. "They never listen to me. After all I've done I still haven't earned their trust". Again, SW is set apart from them. When she says "they just want to hold the rest of us back" she's including Micah, making him feel separate, better, like her. She's indoctrinating him in her plan.
>We get a scene between Catra and SW here, where Catra tries to get SW to give her a reason to save her. All SW wants to know is when she's being sent to Beast Island: she realizes she has to escape that night. She sets out to manipulate Catra into giving her the reagent she needs to escape. SW talks up how weak and powerless she is, preying on Catra's lingering pity, desire for connection. A emotionally desperate Catra unfortunately gives it to her. Catra tells her "you don't get to ask things of me anymore" but she's desperate and depressed, feeling totally alone after so recently seeing Adora and consequently nearly dying the episode before, only to be saved by Scorpia's caring about her.
>And apprehensive Micah asks SW if she's sure this is a good idea. She tells him "WE need this power, it's the only way to protect our people". It's a lie, but Micah thinks he's special because he's SW's apprentice, and so he agrees to do it.
As the spell begins to work, we see a terrifying eldritch horror type of creature summoned. It soon breaks free even as Micah helps SW try to contain it. SW acts surprised to see it, but she always knew this spell. Micah runs, and SW stays, yelling angrily at Micah for leaving. She experiences fear as it consumes her, but she knows it's part of getting her power. This is the price she pays to become powerful. She tells Micah he betrayed her by abandoning her and yet, what other possible outcome was there but for them BOTH to be destroyed or corrupted? Norwyn tries to stand up to her, telling her "bringing you into our ranks was a grave mistake". She counters calling him a fool. "You're all weak. None of you deserve my help".
I often see people say this show doesn't show death, but what happens next is undeniably so: it is murder. She annihilates two sorcerer's in one hit, consumes the head sorcerer to give her more magical power. It is pure evil. As she realizes her new power she exclaims "The spell worked. I am stronger than ALL of you." She menaces Micah.
This. Was. Always. The. Plan. The spell worked, she says so herself. Micah tries to defend himself weakly against her, he's entirely at her mercy. He expects death, but instead she caresses his cheek, touches his ear. Then she gives him a look of disdain. It's no mistake she covers half her face even at this point in her history, so we can't know her full emotions. But it's clear, she condescends to him: he was a naive little pawn, not meant to survive, or at minimum, he was supposed to become corrupted like her. But it doesn't matter. She got what she wanted. So she leaves him to live knowing what he's done. The tale of ‘Light Spinner’ has ended: her better persona was just an illusion, useful in her goal of obtaining more power. An empowered Shadow Weaver then shows up at the Fright Zone, killing the guard as a demonstration of power. She declares herself for Hordak, and at least a partial truth is apparent: she wanted the vampiric power so she could channel the Black Garnet. Changing sides bothers SW not at all.
I point out SW’s violence because it is the only time they show any graphic death in this show, and it's therefore meant to show that SW is different, and dangerous. There really was no ‘Light Spinner’, as at multiple moments during her time at Mystacor her true emotions show through (such as pic1, top) and they are both vile and malicious, to put it lightly. Furthermore, note that SW going to the Horde doesn't end up ensuring their victory over the princesses, so yes, in fact, SW was lying to Micah all along. Last, keep in mind Micah’s opinion of her later on: SW is never to be trusted.
Now it's time to get back to the real reason Catra was abused and it's important implications for Adora's abuse as well.
>The scene following Catra's confrontation with SW, we see baby Adora having just arrived in the Fright Zone. SW walks past her, not particularly interested... and yet she sees something in her. And so she takes interest. She knows, in some way, that Adora will wield powerful magic, and since it also becomes clear to us that SW knows all about the past history of She-ra and the Heart of Etheria, it's a logical jump to say she probably thinks Adora is She-ra. Either way, Adora is a powerful orphan child with inborn talent beyond any normal expectation.
Sound familiar? The tale of Micah is there to inform this moment: SW meeting baby Adora. She is in a position to wield ultimate control over a magically privileged child. And the implications are not good...
Apologies to readers here, this next part is intense. Just a quick warning. The total implication of this is that SW never loved Adora, just like she didn't care about Micah. It is all manipulation, and it should be noted that at this point SW has switched to a full mask, conveniently hiding all emotion except a sliver of her eyes (as well as hiding her corrupted features). It's now almost entirely impossible to accurately read her emotions. I don't think she wants you to, as she really has no feelings of actual compassion. She only sees Adora as a privileged child she will use and then discard for her own power.
This means she is, in fact, a child predator. In this case, she's a predator of children of privilege, but the effect is the same: she sees such children as easy targets for her to manipulate for her own gain. Worse, the strong emotional feelings which Adora naturally feels towards those around her makes her easier to control, and SW manipulates this vulnerability against her, as a child and then again as they are headed for the failsafe.
So, returning to the real truth of why SW abused Catra. Let's take a look back at Catra’s condemnation of SW's explanation for her abuse, and it's just one line we need to understand: "I was a child, what could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me?" As it turns out, Catra -did- do something, and you have to adore and appreciate this show because we don't get this answer until the very end. Before season 5 was available, it would simply be impossible to understand Catra's story fully. The creators want you to come full circle of so many understandings, the story is that deep.
It's that one, beautiful, follow on line when Catra confesses her love to Adora- She says "I always have"...
Adora was Shadow Weaver's tool, her next prey. So, along comes Catra, who experiences romantic love for Adora right from the start. Beautiful, total love and devotion. SW sees this, and she decides that she can't let Catra be a hindrance to her plans. And yet she knows she can't kill Catra outright or risk losing Adora's affection. So she hurts Catra, tries to make her weak, to diminish her. She is trying to crush Catra's spirit, her will to live, all while making sure to instill a sense of duty and ambition in Adora which makes her less available to Catra. The abuse works, but not on Catra. Catra stays loyal to Adora, and is so secretly strong within herself in such a way that SW fails to destroy her spirit, although Catra has such incredible trauma from it that we see her struggle with it throughout the rest of the series.
But the abuse does work on Adora and so she grows apart from Catra in such a way that Catra eventually comes to feel Adora doesn't love her. And when Adora so clearly breaks the final half of the promise she made to Catra, Catra too, grows apart from Adora.
Catra therefore represents a person in this story who would have been so entirely below SW's notice that had she not loved Adora the way she did, SW would never have taken the time to hurt her. It wouldn't have been worth her time, and Catra would have had a happy(ish) childhood if not for loving Adora. By the way, this truth of SW's abuse of Catra is indeed confirmed in the show, but we don't have time to cover it here and it deserves its own theory post, anyways.
Before we get back to s5 let's take a brief moment to address SW's abuse of Adora: Adora is the kind of person who can't help but empathetically feel the pain of others when they feel it, and it's what makes her to be so unable to balance her own needs against those of others who are hurting. And so SW making Adora have ambition, to want to win at the expense of others, is actually a frightening manipulation. SW teaches Adora to believe she has to do this in order to be the leader, and then as the leader she must protect everyone else from harm. Adora goes on to show great emotional confusion over this, as she doesn't really feel she’s qualified to be that leader. It makes her feel alone from everyone else, and makes Adora worry about every decision she makes. SW essentially saddles Adora with a lonely burden of leadership, one which she's not well suited for. Adora has a very ADHDish (I’m no expert on ADHD) response to this where she bounces around trying to satisfy everyone else’s feelings, such as within their unit, and so her relationship with Catra suffered because of this.
To sum up, the abuses SW inflicts on the two of them results in their division from each other, and it's a division which tries to tear down both girls spiritually throughout this series. They each have specific traumas relating to Shadow Weaver's abuse of them. These are different, damaging fears SW instilled in each of them to make them easier to control. Because of this, both girls contribute to their separation to the two different sides of the war, and it's only through the great emotional learning of each of them that they are able to start putting it back again in season 5. And so, we will see that when SW returns in season 5, she immediately tries to pick up where she left off… to drive them apart from each other and manipulate them, once again, for her own gain.
Side note #2 before we get back to season 5: SW has a complete and total lack of love for Catra as well. Her callous manipulation of Catra, followed by leaving the fright zone like she did, was a spiritual blow and then a death sentence for Catra. SW would know this and yet she simply did not care. Furthermore, when they meet in Moment of Truth (s3ep4), SW again tries to kill Catra, only stopping short because Glimmer can't withstand the magical drain SW is taking from her. She's just not good people... And if she has such a total lack of love or compassion for Catra, it's a logical jump that she has just as little love and feeling for Adora.
Anyways... let's work on that season 5, phew, I know this is long. We're not done yet, though...
----Part 2: The present up till SW’s Death----
Alright, so returning back to season 5 where we began...
Catra is certain that SW is killing Adora. And the reason Catra is so certain of this is because she understands this fundamental truth behind the childhood abuse of of her and Adora. She knows that SW intended to use Adora, and was grooming her in order to use her to gain more power. And, she knows the true nature of SW’s abuse of Catra herself, that it was meant to destroy her so she wouldn't get in the way of SW using Adora.
How exactly Catra knows this I won't cover here, it would take too long and it deserves its own theory post. But, it is pretty well confirmed in the show as well. No distractions! Moving on...
So… when Adora tells Catra she will take the failsafe even though SW is killing her, it's Catra’s knowledge that SW is for certain doing this to Adora which leads Catra to shake in fear, and then refuse Adora once she returns with the failsafe. This moment goes much deeper than just Catra knowing she can't live without Adora, although that is also true.
Ok so here it is, the big theme we will now delve into, that explains so much:
The all important, crucial thing that Catra isn't seeing is that in order for SW to sacrifice Adora, it is entirely dependent on abusive manipulations is SW doing to both of them, starting from the moment they first see SW in season 5, which are intended to make sure Adora doesn't survive deploying the failsafe.
I know it's a tough implication to accept, but I promise to explain. So why? Why would SW not want Adora to survive? This, atleast, should be obvious: She-ra could stop SW once she has the power, so She-ra is an enemy that SW needs to eliminate to achieve ultimate power. So, SW's goal is to get Adora to bring the failsafe to the heart, but then be too weak to survive the process... leaving SW the uncontested champion by her magical vampiric powers. And so... SW manipulates the two girls, doing her most familiar trick: driving them apart, making them feel isolated from each other.
Her manipulations begin from the very moment Catra and Adora see her in season 5, and they continue up until Adora accepts the failsafe and a bit beyond.
So let's lay this out from the beginning, shall we? Episode 10: When SW walks into the room, saying she knows where the failsafe is, Catra is at first surprised at her appearance, she's thrown off guard. Catra very much wanted to stop SW once and for all, but never got the chance. And now, the new, more feeling Catra is faced with her oldest enemy: she can't hide her hatred and anger at her. It pretty much takes everything she's got not to violently attack her right there and then. But this new Catra isn't going to sink to that low. And yet... SW will intentionally aggravate and attack Catra to reactivate her trauma.
What I find very interesting about that scene, though, is that both Glimmer and Adora immediately look to Catra, knowing she will be upset, both trying to help her. And yet, it's Glimmer who looks first.
Even though Glimmer never says it out loud, Glimmer knows SW played and manipulated Glimmer herself, and that her manipulations were ultimately the reason that Glimmer made the mistake of activating the Heart, which brought Horde Prime's fleet down upon Etheria. Glimmer also watched SW torture and almost kill Catra in s3ep4, so I think Glimmer knows very well how dangerous SW is and how badly she's hurt Catra in the past. Instead, we can take the story of Glimmer and SW as another stand out example of how, once again, we saw SW manipulate someone, Glimmer in this case, with no concern for her well being.
>Adora is also thrown off by SW's reappearance, she doesn't enjoy seeing her either. But then, she also sympathetically looks to Catra, knowing this is a hurtful moment for her. All of this is to say that Catra actually has strong allies against SW, unlike in the past. And it's very important that Adora is such a staunch ally to Catra against SW, in fact it's everything. But, Adora doesn't quite do a good enough job in showing Catra how strongly aligned she, too, is against SW. Unintentional though it may be, as we will see.
>Episode 11: Continuing on, Glimmer immediately opposes SW's desire to use the heart's power. Castaspella tries to say SW is the lesser of evils, but of course, Castaspella is just a pawn. Catra jumps on Casta's words, calling SW evil... SW taunts her back mockingly and we see Catra's anger start to get out of control. But, Adora knows, one way or another, that SW is the root of all of Catra's pain, and so she comforts her, showing her that she sees her pain, and that she's got her back.
Again, it's very important that Adora is Catra's greatest ally against SW, as she has learned to treat SW as a de facto enemy because she has seen the pain and torment Catra experienced because of SW’s abuse; in addition to her own knowledge of how SW manipulated herself as a child.
>Adora confronts SW, asking why she even needs their help getting the failsafe. SW answer is a lie, but plays to her manipulation of Casta, who she needs: she says she can't get past Micah. (Note: who she actually needs is Adora.) As SW tells her plan she leans into Adora's emotional fears of letting others get hurt and reminds Adora she has to be the hero, SW even touches Adora, which we see Catra react angrily to. But, SW successfully manipulates Adora into accepting her plan, and Catra can't stand to watch it as she knows it must somehow be a dangerous manipulation. Catra quietly leaves to try to process her anger. We then see Adora slap SW's hand away, showing defiance, but as Catra has left, she probably doesn't see that. Adora looks around and sees that Catra is gone, which SW responds to by trying to manipulate her into leaving Catra behind, as she knows Adora is more vulnerable without Catra around. But Adora is wary of SW's manipulations, and goes after Catra. SW is aggravated by this.
>The two girls have a very good, emotional talk about SW. Catra is dismayed, but Adora is always brave for others, so she tells her she's got to try. Adora acknowledges Catra's pain, their pain, from SW's abuse. Ultimately Adora convinces Catra to come. Together, Adora says SW can't hurt them anymore. Catra reminds Adora how dangerous SW is, but the girls have reaffirmed their bond, their promises to each other. Which is important later, as this will come up again.
>As they infiltrate Mystacore, Catra is apprehensive and stays at the back. But as the mission progresses she drifts towards the front, trying to be the lookout so she can protect Adora. This, unfortunately, puts her in physical proximity to SW when they check the ritual chamber. Catra checks the chamber, but then a sorcerer appears out of nowhere (literally, how??) and SW grabs her in a way that's very reminiscent of s1ep2, traumatizing her.
I can't help but conclude SW is being intentionally hurtful in order to unnerve Catra. She could have just pointed, or put her hand to Catra's mouth, after all. Catra throws herself away from SW, demanding she not touch her, and makes the mistake of dropping the spell and revealing their presence. Look closely at this scene and you see Adora actually shows great anger, even violent intent towards SW for doing this to Catra, but it's so quick Catra probably doesn't see it, as she's staring down SW instead.
Under a track, Adora tries to become She-ra, but she's too emotionally conflicted since the episode before when they returned to the Fright Zone and Adora started to realize she's been letting Catra down, leaving her hanging. And SW's hurting of Catra also blocks Adora, she's trying to help Catra and yet she's accepting SW's guidance again, which she knows Catra hates and doesn't trust.
>As they pass through the door and continue down a corridor, Adora sees Catra is in emotional pain and holding herself, so she lends her emotional support. She knows SW touching her was incredibly abusive. She tells Catra that it'll be ok, and to trust her, hitting her with her dearest look of love and care for her. She knows SW is Catra's enemy, and she's got her back. Catra looks back, trying to trust her, to put her fear aside. But the moment is cut short when SW interrupts them, guilting Catra for revealing their presence. Adora walks on, saying they have to keep moving, and her face says she's doing it to stop SW from talking to Catra, but again, Catra doesn't see Adora's face. Catra feels left behind, that the moment was cut short. It's by the barest off margins Catra is missing how strongly Adora is coming down against SW for her sake.
> We get more information about SW's corruption next, that it's a way to bypass the crystal of Arxia and get at Heart of Etheria's energy, and we know this because it's discussed immediately after Castaspella tells them about the crystal of Arxia. So, if the magic is released, SW will have practically unlimited power. SW just mocks Casta when she tries to guilt SW over using the spell, she gives no apology. We see both Catra and Glimmer seemingly have a deeper realization about SW and her powers and that both of them look disturbed by it.
>Continuing on, we get the scene where Catra saves Adora from fire, which is so cute but I'll skip the romantic implications: as Catra walks through the fire, Adora stops and frets over not knowing what to do about Catra, how to give her what she wants. Adora is worried she's going to fail, that she could die. It's Adora's biggest, lifelong fear as the bearer of She-ra, and she struggles with it continuously throughout the series. To her, it therefore doesn't make sense to her to get Catra's hopes up too soon.
>Adora's thoughts naturally turn to her inability to transform... and SW pounces on the opportunity in order to exploit it.
Consider now, if Adora's problem is becoming She-ra, why does SW immediately give her a hard time about Catra, instead? Adora rejects SW's criticism, but SW flips the conversation telling Adora she can't be a weak She-ra and seemingly blaming it all on Catra. She tells Adora that her weakness means she's letting everyone else down. SW tells her she has to focus, and Catra makes her weak. This is terribly the opposite of the truth and SW knows this. What she’s really doing is a deep manipulation of Adora that leans on her early abuse of her: Adora has to be perfect for everyone else, and as she's the only one who can do it, she's totally alone in this burden. The truth is that Adora has always needed other people, that's where she draws strength from. Catra loves Adora simply for who she is: she represents the strongest, smartest and most dedicated person, ie, she's the most powerful person to help Adora with her emotional need for support.
Which SW knows, so she does her best to try to separate them, to make Adora think she's alone. SW does this by grouping Catra with everyone else: save everyone, or no one. Then she delivers a direct assault of Adora spiritually by saying "the world needs She-ra right now, not Adora". She's telling Adora that she doesn't matter, only She-ra matters, and she needs to be willing to give it all up to be that hero. We see Adora search SW's face, she's not satisfied and then she does her best to reject her, pulling her hand away in anger while saying she will stop Prime “no matter what.” Catra is eavesdropping on this, but can't see that Adora stands up to SW so strongly... as usual. Catra knows SW is up to no good with it, though. Doubt takes root in Adora, and it aggravates her fears that she's not good enough to be She-ra.
>Arriving at the failsafe chamber, SW gives away just how much she already knows about the Heart. SW explains the failsafe, and so we know she always planned on getting Adora to accept the failsafe, risking it all. Adora approaches, trying to be brave for everyone else.
One of Catra's most important moments follows: she stops Adora from accepting the failsafe, and calls SW out for her bullshit. She's not going to let Adora walk into a trap when she knows better. Catra flips it on SW, telling her to take the failsafe, making SW tell them why it's dangerous, why SW won't do it herself. She points out how SW knows too much, yet didn't pursue the power of the failsafe. Catra is totally certain that SW wants to hurt Adora, and so she's calling her out to get SW to reveal her manipulation of Adora.
SW instead tries to guilt Adora, saying she alone understands that this is the only way to stop Prime. But Catra stands firm, she protects Adora from SW's manipulation as best she can.
Confronted and trapped by Catra's having seen through her plan, we see literally every person in the room ally themselves against SW. SW is forced to admit the truth: using the failsafe will mean death even for She-ra, if she isn't strong enough.
And so Adora realizes what's coming, that She-ra is the only one who can do it. She's terrified and sad at the thought that this could, will, be her end; that she really will have to give it all up for everyone else. She's always thought she'd have to. It's a deep held belief that she's alone in her burden as She-ra.
Adora asks the obvious question: What happens if I die? SW's next words prey upon Adora's every weakness, her lack of belief in her self worth, and innate need to protect others: "Then the magic will be restored to Etheria, through your sacrifice. You will give us the power to bring us to victory. Prime will be defeated. Your friends will be free." SW is listing out every last thing that will happen if Adora doesn't do it, and each is a part of her greatest fears. Adora is unable to resolve between her distrust of SW and need to protect and be brave for everyone else's sake. SW has her trapped by her own emotions.
Catra looks on, watching the manipulation, seeing the consequences of Adora attempting this. Everything about this moment speaks to manipulations SW has used on Adora before: she preys on emotional need and weakness, she isolates Adora in her burden, she even does the dreaded ear touch. If Adora does what SW says, Catra knows it'll be the death of her.
As SW completes her manipulation, everyone in the room cries out against the unfair decision Adora must make. And yet, Adora doesn't see a choice. Catra puts it best, saying: "you don't care about Adora, Adora can't even care about herself!"
But Bow's words also have meaning: "Theres no way we're risking Adora like that." For all that Bow and Glimmer have done for Adora, she's still supposed to be the champion that's going to save them. They need things from her, not simply Adora as herself. All in all, Bow and Glimmer did their absolute and kindest best to help Adora, often emotionally supporting her through her depressions and fears of not being a good She-ra. But in the end, they still needed her to be She-ra.
But Catra is different, all she wants is Adora, and for her to be safe and loved, and ideally, to be with her. Catra's opinion in this moment is the true one, the most honest. But Adora can't overcome the thought of failing everyone, and so she pushes forward, saying she will take the failsafe.
Adora is feeling alone, trapped by fate. Catra runs to her, literally shaking her in order to try to convey how sure she is that Adora is going to die if she does this. But Adora can't let the universe die, and she's She-ra. She (Adora) doesn't matter. It's only what she can do to try to fix things for others that matters, her hero's burden. Adora pushes Catra's hands off her, in a lifetime of pain and sorrow Catra has never looked so sad. Adora really is pushing her away, not seeing how seriously Catra feels, how badly she needs Adora to understand her in this moment. A dissociated Adora looks internally, accepting her fate, alone again, isolated.
Maybe Catra could have found a way to get through to Adora, but they run out of time. A chipped Micah shows up and begins to systematically defeat them, and Adora has no more time to choose. SW is easily taken down by Micah, it shows his anger at her. He taunts her, she's got nowhere to hide. This is interesting, but not our focus..
Adora again tries to summon She-ra and fails. She simply can't resolve between her sense of failure to Catra and her need to be brave for everyone else. She looks to Catra, decides to do the brave thing as herself, not as She-ra, even if it means she will fail, and hurt Catra. After all, since she’s She-ra, she has to try, right? This is her burden.
As SW turns to Adora and says "the failsafe... we... we can't" Adora is pressed by urgency, doing what she can. Catra tries one last desperate plea: "Please. It doesn't always have to be you!" Adora can't accept this, internally she is certain she has to save everyone. Even if this includes SW herself, and so when Catra later says Adora chose SW, not her in this moment, Catra is right, except that Adora believed she had no choice. Adora is also the only one in this moment who can reach the failsafe, and so it seems like fate is against her. Adora knows she's probably choosing to die, and if she does, she knows Catra will probably die of a broken heart as well. She really does choose SW over Catra, in a way. It's a tough moment, but taking the failsafe is the right thing to do, given the circumstances.
Receiving the failsafe is intense, and as Adora tries to withstand it, Micah binds the entire party with dark magic. Interestingly, this means SW indoctrinated Micah more than we're shown, and now that he's chipped, he is uninhibited.
Adora sees everyone is in danger, if she doesn't come through now it's all over. It gives her that singular focus she needs, summoning She-ra is easy because if she doesn't, Catra, all of them, are about to die.
Failsafe achieved, Micah vanquished, Adora offers Catra her hand, she's trying to show Catra she's there for her, they are together. But Catra rejects her, she's too sure that SW has won, that Adora will die. In this moment all the old trauma Catra carries is too strong, and SW has unnerved her too greatly. As Catra runs from her, Adora realizes that Catra was trying to tell her something deeper, but somehow she's missed it.
>Catra watches Adora sleep, she's emotionally distraught at the thought of her dying. So, she tries to sneak away. Adora finds out, and manages to confront Catra before she can leave. This is one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful scenes about love in this show, but I'll just cover how SW's manipulations come into play...
>Adora tackles Catra, and demands she explain why she’s leaving. Catra throws SW's words back at Adora, that she's a distraction, that she makes Adora too weak to be She-ra. Catra knows this was a unfair manipulation by Shadow Weaver, but she couldn't see, only hear, what happened between Shadow Weaver and Adora. She doesn't know that Adora rejected Shadow Weaver so strongly, both spiritually and by violently pulling away from her. Adora tries her best to get Catra to see that she's not doing this because of Shadow Weaver's manipulation, that she's trying to rise above SW's control of her. But Catra pushes her away, instead trying to speak to a more central truth: Adora's need to serve everyone else's needs, her inability to regulate her desire to make things better for others who are hurting or will get hurt, and balance that against her own needs and safety. She's speaking to the part of Adora which Shadow Weaver is exploiting to get what she wants from her, to control her. It doesn't really matter in this moment to Catra whether Adora is doing it for Shadow Weaver or not, because either way Adora is allowing Shadow Weaver to win. Catra wants Adora to be better than a slave to her emotional need to help others no matter the cost or danger. She's asking Adora to be strong in herself in a way Adora has never been able to be. She challenges her, asking "What do you want, Adora?" The obvious answer, Catra believes, is her. But Adora is too worried she will die and let Catra down to let her romantic feelings about Catra manifest and make it real between them, and taking the failsafe has made Adora all the more doubtful of her own survival. Adora counters "I have to do this Catra, I'm the only one who can." It's all to say that Adora is alone in her burden, and she accepts it and its consequences because she's She-ra. Adora doesn't believe she has value, or deserves happiness unless she can save everyone, including Catra.
Adora believes as She-ra, she is totally alone in her burden. This is wrong of course, Catra does see her and understands her burden, and is the one person in the world who wishes to share that load with her, unlike the other princesses who need Adora to be a hero and save them. But both girls are weak from their deep traumas which Shadow Weaver has reaggravated, and they can't overcome them. Catra resigns herself to the belief that Adora is unable to rise above her most basic emotional need to serve others, telling her "Then do it. That's what you want, that's what you'll always choose." She can't stand to watch Adora kill herself so willingly to serve everyone else, all while letting SW win. She rejects Adora, and turns to leave. Adora desperately begs Catra to stay, wanting her to uphold their promise and telling her she needs her, but is unable to vocalize her desire to be with Catra romantically. Meanwhile, in Catra's mind, Adora is just going to let herself die, and if she does, then Adora never really needed her after all... all Adora cares about is being She-ra. It's harsh, but true... even if what she's doing about it is so wrong.
It's a painful moment for both of them, and it's horrible because Catra is so clearly breaking their promise, the one that Adora restored to Catra she came to rescue her from Horde Prime. And yet, her leaving will work in the end. Catra gets Adora to see how crucial it is that she not let Shadow Weaver win, to let Shadow Weaver get whatever she wants by taking that cost from Adora's own life. And it's how Adora finally becomes too strong for Shadow Weaver to ever manipulate again.
>As Adora returns to camp, still crying from Catra's abandonment, Shadow Weaver tries to swoop in and make her manipulations of Adora take their final hold. She tells Adora she "made the right choice, don't let Catra convince you otherwise, she's never understood." Dreaded ear touch and all. By saying Catra can't understand, Shadow Weaver tries to make Adora feel alone in her burden as She-ra, seeking to weaken her spirit. But we see a total shift in Adora's attitude as she rejects SW’s cruelty and manipulations entirely. Her words carry incredible weight and speak to how she's so clearly seen through SW's malicious manipulations of the two of them. "Stop. I will never forgive you. You ruin people. You ruin any chance they could ever be happy." Adora just watched Catra reject her and abandon her because she couldn't stand to lose Adora again over SW's manipulations. It's by knowing Catra's pain that Adora is able to finally deny Shadow Weaver any sliver of control over her. As always, Adora couldn't do it for herself, she couldn't resolve between her deeper need to save everyone and SW's plans to use her for her own gain. But Adora is strong for others, and so she's strong for Catra. By leaving, Catra has given Adora the ability to rise above any manipulation Shadow Weaver can do to her.
Adora stands up to Shadow Weaver once and for all in her next words: "I'm going to take the failsafe to the heart, and I'm going to save Etheria. But I am not doing it for you. I'll do everything I can to make sure you never get your hands on the magic." (pic1, fyi) Note the exact words Adora speaks here as we will return to them later, they are important. While Adora has seen past SW’s manipulations, and seen that Shadow Weaver only ever desired power, she doesn't realize how SW's childhood abuse of her and attempts to manipulate her in the present are making her too weak to survive deploying the failsafe. To get past that, Catra must help Adora.
EPISODE 12: We watch as Adora struggles to become She-ra, but eventually manages it. She's seen through SW's plan after all, and so she does her best to believe she is strong enough to win on her own, to survive the heart. But she misses Catra desperately. She rallies her people, and ends her speech by saying resolutely that she will take the failsafe to the Heart and destroy it. It's an incredible speech, Adora has become a wonderful leader, but then she looks up and sees Shadow Weaver hiding in the back. As SW meets her gaze, She-ra's form falters and we see Adora's face for a split second. She's furious at her, that she hurt Catra so badly that she ran away.
Adora moves away from the group so they don't see her lose her She-ra form because of the turmoil she feels over Shadow Weaver and losing Catra. Bow and Glimmer check on Adora, knowing she has a tendency to try to sneak away so people won't see her risk her life. Glimmer is perceptive and asks about Catra, she knows it's Catra that Adora needs, that her being gone is tearing Adora up inside. Glimmer is a great friend to the both of them. Adora voices concern for their safety if they come with her, but Bow and Glimmer know Adora needs support. And so they will try their best, even though they know Adora is heartbroken from Catra leaving her.
>Buoyed by their support, Adora goes to the ruins to try to face her final task, to overcome it through her own strength alone. Bow and Glimmer take her hands, we see Adora does her best to set her fear aside. And yet, as they enter she wonders where Catra is, whether she will come back to honor their promise.
>Catra looks back, also experiencing pain over their separation. She has not been able to overcome her trauma, and manage her feelings. Well isn't it just nice to have a telepathic therapy pet! Melog stops, and forces her to actualize her feelings and process them. At first Catra tries to deny them, saying she won't go back, but Melog sits on her. She cries, saying out loud her deepest feelings. Let's take this one in steps. "You saw what happened, A-Adora chose Shadow Weaver, not me". In a very real sense Adora did do this, she pushed Catra away in the failsafe chamber. She ignored Catra's warnings and, in Catra's mind, committed herself to death at the hands of SW's manipulation. The next line is one of the most important in the series, but we will only cover it briefly as it's romantic implications are best discussed elsewhere: "Adora doesn't want me, not like I want her." We get to see one of the most honest truths about Catra: she is an intensely romantic person, and has always had the most incredible dreams of them being together. But a lifetime of pain has told Catra that it can't be real, or atleast, not for her. It is deep seated trauma that blocks her, trauma Shadow Weaver started and then aggravated against her, making her leave Adora just moments before. Catra is, in a word, furious that she's come this far, having dared to dream once again that the two of them could be together and in love, only to have SW come in and take that from her once again.
Let's take a moment to consider how Catra is doing as she adapts to her new emotional way of dealing with the world, as she has shifted her perspective since rejoining Adora: The old Catra might have simply struck SW down, maybe even killed her to remove the threat. But now, Catra doesn't want to do that but is expected to trust in Adora’s ability to overcome the threat through her inner strength, and the through the strength of her community. But, as far as Catra could see, Adora just accepted her death as necessary rather than fighting SW’s manipulations. And this worries her, and it's why it's so important to Catra that she not let Shadow Weaver win, so Catra leaves to make sure Adora gets the message. She's wrong to do this, and she realizes this after opening up to Melog. Adora needs Catra to have faith in her, because without her support, there's no chance Adora overcomes what Shadow Weaver is trying to do to her.
>Glimmer watches the doubt play across Adora's face. She doesn't know how to make it better, since Catra isn't with them. She asks her if she's scared, and Adora answers back as truthfully as she can: "No, I just really hope this works." She's putting on a good face while trying to believe there's a chance, but when Bow tells her it's going to be a whole new world when she's done, Adora doubts. Can she even survive? Will Catra be gone forever? The next scene is, of course, very romantic. We see that Adora has always loved Catra, just like Catra loves Adora. The magic is trying to remind Adora of her own desires, her wants. Let's not get too distracted though: as Adora moves on, vowing to not let the magic distract her, we see her She-ra form falter, she's still fighting despair and loneliness. Bow and Glimmer don't know what to do...
>Catra sees Horde Prime begin hacking the planet and knows Adora is in grave danger of not succeeding in her last, unselfish mission before Prime stops her. Catra can't let this happen, also, since Melog has helped her process her emotional pain, she's ready to support Adora in any way she can, even if it means her hopes and dreams of them being together will be unfulfilled. She tries to rush to her side.
>Adora is panicking and unable to resolve her feelings of failure to Catra, She-ra is in danger of fading again. She sees the sword as she saw it back when she first left Catra, her hand goes to the failsafe on her chest, the thing that made Catra reject her after she accepted it. She tells Bow and Glimmer she can't escape her destiny. The words "I'm losing her" speak to a deep held belief by Adora that she's not worthy of survival because she feels that she has never been able to help the one person she truly loves, making her no hero. All of the manipulations of Shadow Weaver, Horde Prime, even Light Hope are crushing down on her. She believes she has to accept her fate, to die to fulfill her duty as She-ra. It's the price she has to pay for not being good enough, for hurting Catra when she left her to become She-ra. She thanks Bow and Glimmer for their love and support. "I never could have done any of this without you." Bow and Glimmer did everything they could to prop Adora up, get her out of her depressions when she felt she wasn't good enough to be She-ra. But they still needed her to be She-ra, and therefore they can't help her get past her deepest insecurities. To do that, she needs someone who has unconditional love for her. She needs Catra. Adora leaves Bow and Glimmer behind, trying to protect them, so that only she will have to die.
>Catra finds Shadow Weaver patiently waiting to receive her power, to be able to achieve dominion over everyone else. SW tells Catra "She's gone to the heart of Etheria to free the magic and become the hero she was born to be." The dead hero, that is. As SW tries to guilt Catra, calling her selfish, she glares back. She stands up to SW, rejecting the manipulation: "Enough! This isn't about you and your messed up power trip anymore!”
In this moment, Catra shows us how clearly she understands SW's goal. She calls her out perfectly. She tells SW that Prime is infecting the planet to take the heart, which changes everything, including for SW.
>As Catra leads SW, having forced her to cooperate, they see Prime's broadcast and Catra knows they have to act. She demands SW take them to Adora, and doesn't accept her lies. She knows SW can do it with magic, and demands she comply. Her words hit home "So do something good with it for once and help me save Adora before it's too late." Notice the similarity to when Glimmer asks Catra to be better on Horde Prime’s ship. SW is trapped, she has to comply. If Adora doesn't reach the heart, no magic for SW, universe ends. Catra accepts SW's hand, though it hurts her to do so.
>Catra and SW arrive in the corridor. As Catra gets the truth from Glimmer, she's dismayed. "Of course she's gone, that's what she does, isn't it?" She knows in this moment that Adora is consumed by fear, her inadequacies. As she finishes briefing Bow and Gimmer on the situation, she tells them she will stay to help Adora, and she invokes their promises to each other. It's an important moment, as it is the two of them together, their promises to each other, that gives them the strength to surpass SW's manipulations of them. Glimmer knows Catra is in love with Adora, so she leaves Adora in Catra's care. Bow’s words are important as well, speaking to the power of the Best Friend Squad. It gives Catra a boost to her morale, a belief that maybe there's a chance she and Adora can overcome the odds they face.
>Adora looks out over Etheria, seeing its beauty. Mara joins her. Adora tries to promise Mara that she will save the world, everyone, at any cost. Mara flat out rejects this as wrong, she doesn't let Adora promise. Mara confronts Adora on her decision to die for everyone else. When Mara asks her what she wants, Adora says it doesn't matter, that she's She-ra. Again, an isolationist view, a lonely burden, just like SW wants her to believe. Mara tells Adora that she, Adora, has value as a person, not only as a hero, and that she deserves love, too. As Mara tells to not lose hope, Adora is emotionally moved but you can tell she's still struggling to accept Mara’s words because of her feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. Mara manages to pass some courage to her, but then Horde Prime cuts them short.
Prime leans into Adora’s fears, threateningly. Like SW, he knows how to exploit her. He was in Catra's head and so he knows what Catra knows. He tells her that her failure is imminent, that she is already defeated, like the other She-ra's. The guardian monster then strikes and infects Adora, and she finally loses her grip on her She-ra form. He tells her even her own people didn't want her to make it to the heart, telling her the whole world is against her, and that she's totally alone. She tries to counter this with defiance, but the virus has her. She knows she's in trouble.
----Part 3: Final Moments, and Death, of SW----
>Episode 13. Adora is in pain, trying to understand the nature of the infection. The monster towers over her, it has only to reach out to deal the killing blow, she's defenseless. Suddenly Catra shows up, engaging the monster. Adora's only concern is for Catra's safety, telling her to leave her because it's too dangerous. But Catra has decided: she will do whatever it takes to give Adora her chance to save the universe, if that's what she wants. Even if it means Adora has to die. She tells SW to get Adora to the heart, which Adora objects to. SW is looking closely at Adora and seeing her illness, evaluating. As Adora begs for Catra to not leave her, Catra tells Adora she'll catch up. After all, they are the best friend squad. Bow's words have given Catra a small amount of hope that maybe it'll be ok. Adora, now that Catra has finally shown up, is desperate to not lose her again, and knows fighting this monster is too dangerous for her alone. But she's sick, and unable to help her. SW takes Adora unwillingly towards the heart.
>Catra is doing her best, but the monster is too much, even for her. She tries to slip away, seeing the virus continuing to spread. She's trying to get to Adora, who’s alone with SW. Horde Prime stops her (no keep running!!) and she gets caught. He mocks her, telling her he expected better. But Catra has already surpassed his greatest expectations, and she'll stop him yet... as the monster catches her, she cries out in anguish. It seems the cruelty of the universe has caught up to her again, after all...
>As SW tries to bring Adora to the heart, Adora's sickness is rapidly advancing. She demands SW wait, but she's too weak to resist. The thought of losing Catra again is weakening her spirit and allowing the virus to take over. SW tells her not to lose her focus, she's still hoping Adora will deploy the failsafe before dying. But then the virus seemingly attacks Adora's heart and SW watches the failsafe nearly fade out. SW looks up, she's close enough to already siphon power from the heart. Her lust for power is apparent.
As Adora hears Catra’s scream, she forcefully pushes herself from SW, and starts to go back for Catra. SW calls for her to wait, but Adora leaves her behind.
This is it, the turning point. The great moment of truth: SW now realizes, in utter totality, that she's never going to get to have the power. It's one of the most important moments in the series, and what happens next is the culmination of all of the hard emotional growth the two girls have been doing.
>>Quick interjection: we’re about to get emotional here... (well, I do). Just a light suggestion to check your surroundings. <<
Shadow Weaver now realizes that, even if she were to drag Adora to the heart, she would be too sick and heartbroken to deploy it. It's over for SW, either she dies now, with everyone else in the end of the universe, or she dies giving everyone else, including the girls, a future.
Remember as well, Adora has told SW that she would do everything she can to make sure she never gets the power. Adora is too strong against SW's manipulations, something Adora learned from seeing the pain Shadow Weaver caused Catra through her abuse. I mentioned that the exact words Adora used when she rejected SW the night before were important, so let's return to them: Adora told SW she would deploy the failsafe, and also that she will block SW from getting the power for herself. But as she said all of this, about saving the world, the universe, she doesn't say one, very important, word.
Promise.
Adora may have dedicated herself to being She-ra, but somehow in that moment she knew not to promise to SW that she would deploy the failsafe to save the universe, instead only saying that she was going to find a way, while making sure SW doesn't get the power. We saw that Adora later tried to make this particular promise to Mara, but Mara threw that out, telling Adora to be better, to rise above her lack of self belief.
A promise was made, though. She promised Catra. Their beautiful, childhood promise, the one she so casually broke way back when, her greatest mistake. And so Adora goes back for Catra, to be there for her, to try to help. If this Catra's end, she will be there for her... even if the cost is this high. She can't just let her die alone. She is honoring their promise...
And so… Adora finally… after all this time, puts Catra above her duty as She-ra. Her love for Catra is more important than fulfilling her heroic duty, and so SW can no longer manipulate her into giving up her life so SW can get the power. The girls have, in fact, transcended her manipulations, and as Adora leaves SW standing by the heart, SW is totally alone and without anything, anyone, left. She is, in fact, defeated by the girl’s love for each other... and so as SW looks towards the heart, she finally... makes... the right... choice. She gathers enough power from the heart to fight the monster...
>Horde Prime mocks Carta as she tries in vain to resist being pulled towards her death. When he invokes Adora's name, saying she will die, Catra shows her sadness, disappointment, at having come so close to being with her. He mocks her again, asking her if it was worth it. Catra shows defiance, then sorrow. The answer is yes, of course. Catra was willing to lay it all down to give Adora her shot at saving the universe, she's honoring their promise as best she can even if this is Adora's final act before her, and their, deaths. Catra has total belief that in this moment, that she needed to sacrifice herself for Adora. It seems like the natural outcome of fate, of the cruelty that is SW's and the universe's betrayals of the two of them their entire lives...
Heroic. Fucking. Music. SW shows up, charged from the Heart to take Catra's place. She's going to do one heroic and worthy thing of remembrance before she goes, since she is defeated and knows she won't get to have the heart's power.
Carta's disbelief is total, she can't understand how SW would ever do this for her. Her manipulation of them their whole lives was so total, so unfeeling. And yet, here she is. SW tells Carta to get to Adora and run. She forces Catra back and blocks the door. Catra still can't understand... and we finally... see Shadow Weaver show some actual real remorse for how empty her life is. She begs Catra to take Adora to the heart, to set the magic free. The one thing SW is dedicated to is magic, and she knows releasing the magic will restore the planet. Catra points out the obvious, that SW will die. Part of the reason Catra is so broken up by SW doing this is because Catra had just accepted her fate of dying in order to give Adora her chance to save everyone: Catra was willing to die for Adora even if Adora never found the courage to want Catra the way Catra wants her. And now SW takes her place? It doesn't make sense to her, as SW is a greedy person.
Shadow Weaver’s next series words are some of the most important in the entire series. And this is also the one redeeming quality she has... that she is a teacher. And she’s about to tell Catra something very, very... important.
She says: "It's too late for me." All her manipulations towards getting the power at the cost of the girls lives have been torn down, they've completely moved past her, she has no place in their lives anymore. The girls have learned to love each other so loyally that SW is done, finished.
"But you... this is only the beginning for you." Catra listens to this, searching for the deeper meaning... "I'm so proud of you, Catra." I think we all agree SW being 'proud' of Catra is a devastating line, Catra doesn't need or probably even want her abusers approval. I also think it is a lie, everything about SW says she's unable to feel actual compassion. But SW is a mastermind, and I think she's telling Catra she has respect for her. Catra ended up being the greatest enemy SW ever faced, she was so smart that she saw right through every manipulation SW made, and in the end, SW couldn't touch her. But theorizing aside, we see Catra cry... somehow, someway, SW finally seems to be showing Catra some amount of good in her, and so she cries, wondering where it comes from…
As Catra brings her hand back to uselessly flail at the barrier, Adora catches it. Catra looks back at Adora, surprised at her reappearance...
… right then we see Catra suddenly look away from Adora. It's quick, but we're seeing a dissociative moment: this is Catra realizing something very deep, and very meaningful...
Catra realizes, that in this moment, SW has chosen to do something that is much more than just dying in Catra's place.
She has given Adora to her.
All of Catra's life, Shadow Weaver has stood between her and Adora, love was a thing Catra was not allowed to have. But the girls, together, have transcended all of her abuse and manipulation. They have seen through her plan and risen above every cruelty, and have blocked SW's manipulations to use them for her own gain. And so, a defeated SW chooses now, to give Catra the most beautiful of gifts...
Catra puts it all together, filled with clarity: SW is telling her that Adora doesn't have to die, she can survive this. That they can survive the Heart!!! And Catra is the key, as SW has told her: "This is only the beginning, for you."
Catra is now given this knowledge freely by SW, and thus given hope. SW stands before them, totally defeated, in awe of Catra's incredible growth and cunning and that she was able to see through her plan, and how strongly the two girls have come to love each other. So, SW is giving Catra her fullest respect, and as a last act before her death she is passing Catra newfound hope that the two of them can overcome this, that they can survive...
Shadow Weaver removes her mask, showing Catra her face. It's not a face of manipulation, as we expect, no, there's respect, even, dare I say, gratitude. SW didn't have to do this, Catra knows that. And yet, Catra managed to show SW something she never expected to see. And so, by outthinking and so totally defeating her, by making SW see that all her manipulations were discovered and therefore wouldn't work no matter which way she turned, and by getting Adora understand the urgency of not letting SW win, Catra has won this final, beautiful gift…
“You're welcome…”
As Catra watches SW make her final sacrifice... her one good deed... she looks on, stunned. Life is never quite so simple as you think it is, and since returning to Adora, Catra has seen so many acts of generosity she didn't really believe were possible... and now... this...
Catra lets Adora cry for a moment, then tells her they have to go. Catra is filled with new urgency... they will face this final challenge together. As she resolutely carries Adora towards the heart, she knows she's now in charge of their fate... and as they face this final task, Catra is searching for a way to save Adora, and to save their love once and for all...
~
All of this has huge implications for what then happens with the girls when they reach the heart chamber, but that's a topic better discussed another time…
Some final notes here. It's my belief that Shadow Weaver is the overarching villain of the story, who spans all seasons of She-ra, and is far more important to the plot than Horde Prime is. Furthermore, understanding Shadow Weaver as this kind of villain is a stepping stone to explaining many other important plot points in the series, and we can build on it to understand a lot of the most important moments in the show.
My personal belief about this story is that the writers had such a diverse room of people of LGBTQIA+ and other backgrounds, each with their own trials and pains they had to overcome, that as a team, their goal was to bring to light as many of these struggles that they could. But as for this most central story, my guess is they wanted to tell us a story about overcoming real darkness that exists in our world, as well as Etheria, because sometimes that's how it is. And so the right thing, the only thing to do is to overcome and move past such people, to not let them control your life.
All this is to say that I think the moral of Shadow Weaver in the story isn't about finding the good in her, but about rising above her and the fundamental darknesses that we all sometimes face. And our girls do this through love, at no point do they use violence. And that makes this story very, very... special.
Thanks for reading. Until next time…
~EtheriaDearie
P.S. :: as I am new to tumblr, if you enjoyed reading this, please consider giving me a reblogg! Thanks!! 🙇💛
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