#showing that he absolutely DOES trust her deeply. probably more than anyone else other than ezran | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eugenedream · 7 months ago

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i hath returned and here are my reading notes…

I love John being concerned about Omega’s behavioural changes. He’s a caregiver, provider, and protector. I LOVE that about him. He recognises Omega is her most vulnerable in those moments and he being privy to them he needs to be on the look out. I kinda feel like Omega could be subconsciously revealing things in those moments. The bonds are changing and so her behaviour is too, showing she’s more comfortable and attached.

(this note comes verbatim from the moment i read the associated part) I SWEAR TO GOD IF THERE IS A CAMERA IN THE MOTHERFUCKING BEAR IM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT (upon further reflection there definitely is and the general/those running the program have seen the heat - icky ew gross yuck someone call the MPs or better yet let a really angry Si at them)

SI MY SWEET BABY BOI - he is a big smoosh with big soft boi feelings - offering to go get mum?? wanting to beat dad??? i am a simon fan, if si has zero fans im dead - honestly my mum would actually love Si, she too would go absolutely scorched earth in order to protect me, they share a love language of violence. it would greatly please her to know someone would fight for me just as hard as she does

Also Johnny snuggles??? His love is definitely physical touch and is doing his duty as caring beta but it’s also bc he feels a lil left out during the heat. He doesn’t have an offical role during, Kyle is there to make sure everything is okay, so he’s giving himself a role after. He can be the responsible beta, he’s not all sex all the time.

SI COOKING??!! a provider full stop period - I love that he’s leaning into that alpha instinct a lil, check on her, feed her, love her, provide, serve, protect, all that jazz

JOHNNY CONFIRMED PANTY THEIF - just put his card details into all the sites, he rips he pays simples

I LOVE YOU TOO KYLE WITH YOUR BIG BROWN EYES AND SOFT FLUFFY LIPS

I feel like Si would be proud of the snatch and escape. They all probably are on some level. Johnny a lil more turned on than proud tho - I deeply appreciate the look into the group chat - I love how being circled by them all would be so threatening to anyone else but to Omega she’s having the time of her life - John letting Si be dominant and looming poses some interesting thoughts. I don’t think they would directly engage with each other in a scenario but more work with each other (if that makes sense). John is leader of the pack but Si is still an alpha so it would be interesting to see that dynamic play out. I wonder if John would be comfortable with the way Si gets rough and mean, if he would ‘allow’ it while he was there or if he is comfortable being apart of that.

Johnny to patch the bear?? He knows how to sew? Is this bc they’ve all cut/ripped so many holes in clothing? Or bc he’s stitched Si back together so many times and the skill just translates??

A HAPPY LIL OMEGA!!!!!! i love the fluid domesticity between them all. Its a dream and so warm and loving - one day Si will hold Omega’s hand and let her be all cute and preening when he does stuff.

I don’t wanna talk about what went down. I just want answers and solutions…I’m worried that Si is going to react poorly. I feel like they’re all going to be hurt/cut up about Omega keeping secrets. They might interpret it as she doesn’t trust them but I hope she has the strength and opportunity to explain herself and feelings. I’m actually a lil anxious about it bc there is nothing I can personally do it fix it. I’ve just got to wait and I know you won’t give me answers I KNOW ALL IM GONNA GET IS THAT MEME/GIF ABOUT CONFIRMING OR DENYING.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk ❤️

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Summary: Things after your heat begin to go back to normal...but you know better than to think that will last long.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,708 words

Warnings: Suggestive content, kissing, the reader's daddy kink showing itself briefly, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack, grief, kneeling, angst, fluff, massive time jumps, brief paranoia, my bad attempts at Scottish slang, angst

A/N: So we're covering a lot of ground with this one in favor of getting to the good stuff. I've put references when there's time jumps relative to the reader's most recent heat. So, for example, "six weeks after" is six weeks post the reader's heat. This was originally going to be two chapters, but then I decided to just smash it into one to avoid dragging things out further. So yeah. Get your tissues, get your ice cream and settle in for this wonderful ride.

ALSO, This will be the last time I'm using the taglist, follow HERE if you'd like to get notifications for new posts

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

A Few Days After

You’re like two pups, huddled together under a pile of blankets. The muscle relaxer kicked in an hour ago and you’ve been softly snoring since. Johnny’s arm is tossed over your back, keeping you pinned to his chest as he snores against your head. He’s probably drooling on your hair, but after this last week, it’s probably not the worst thing you’ve been covered in.

You’ve both just showered, your hair still damp against your pillow. Johnny’s mohawk is plastered against his head, strands sticking to his forehead. It needs a trim again.

John lets out a quiet sigh, shifting in your desk chair as he adjusts the ice pack between his legs. He’s sore, more sore than he had been the first time. You’d put them all through the wringer the week before your pre-heat started, and you’d put him through the wringer during the week of your heat. Maybe Kyle was right, maybe he is getting old.

He shakes the thought away, staring at the slow and steady rise and fall of your side as you breathe. You’d cried for longer this time, the tears still streaming as he fed you small bites of mash and mushy peas. He had been worried you might choke as your inhales caught and shuddered, but you ate albeit begrudgingly. The next few days you spent in an exhaustion and muscle relaxer induced haze. You woke long enough to eat and use the bathroom, but then you crawled back into bed and napped. Johnny has been a constant presence in your room, having crawled into your nest after they got you settled the first day to cuddle.

This morning you had been awake for longer, downing some porridge before the ache settled in and John gave you another muscle relaxer. He’d gotten you to down another electrolyte drink before the muscle relaxer kicked in, and before Johnny joined you so the two of you could cuddle up like a couple of pups to nap.

“You should take a break.” Simon says softly where he’s leaning up against your closet. “Get some rest yourself.”

John grunts quietly, sinking down further in the chair. He should, yet he can’t bring himself to step away. Things do feel different this time, though he’s not sure if that’s normal, or if Kyle’s participation had shifted things slightly. Did their reactions to your heat change depending on the heat? Did your own symptoms change heat to heat? He has half a mind to call Dr. Keller, get her opinion and ask for her advice. You don’t seem different, aside from the lingering symptoms. He feels different though, and Kyle had lingered a bit longer than he needed to.

“She’ll be fine.” Simon says, John’s body tensing as his second alpha places a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed Simon’s approach, not that he was all that far away to begin with. “I’ll stay with them.”

John knows Simon won’t let anything happen to you. Logically he knows Simon would do everything in his power to keep you safe, and physically he’d be more capable. Yet John finds himself hesitating, still watching the rise and fall of your body as you breathe.

“You know I’ll alert you if anything happens.” Simon says, trying to reassure him.

It’s nothing personal. John just can’t seem to bring himself to move.

“I know.” He says quietly, finally pulling his gaze from you. “Things...feel different now.”

“Could just be the exhaustion.” Simon offers, trying to think up an explanation for John’s obvious inner conflict. “Go take a nap. You need it.” Simon squeezes his shoulder gently, massaging his thumb into John’s tense muscles. He could use a good massage. Maybe another hot bath too.

“Perhaps you’re right.” John murmurs, pulling the ice pack from his aching balls before standing. “You’ll wake me?” He asks, turning to face Simon.

“Course.” Simon nods, giving him as much of a reassuring look as he can manage.

John takes one last look at you, sleeping peacefully tucked in Johnny’s arms, the blankets wrapped around you both. You’ll be warm enough, with Johnny’s puppy-like warmth, and nothing will happen under Simon’s watchful gaze. Kyle will be back in soon after his own nap. Maybe he should crawl in with Kyle for a bit. Maybe that will help ease his mind.

John forces himself to look away, not even bothering to take the ice pack back to the rec room before slipping into Kyle’s room.

Simon turns the pages quietly, being careful not to disrupt either of you as you nap. He’d pulled a book off your desk to mind the time while he lets Price sleep. His fellow alpha needs it after the last week. He’s no good to anyone, much less you if he’s exhausted. God forbid they get called into something in the next few days.

Simon will gladly play babysitter if it gets Price to rest.

He’s tempted to text Kyle and tell him to keep Price in bed as long as possible, but he knows Price will be mad if he sleeps too much. Simon isn’t sure how Price keeps going for so long. He admires his strength and determination, but he can see how tired he gets, the hunch of his shoulders as he begins to feel the weight he carries, the dark circles under his eyes, how sluggish his movements get. He knows Price secretly dreads your heats, when he’s put out of commission completely,

As a man of action, he doesn't do well laying low. The few times Simon has seen Price get hurt, he’s always disobeyed orders for bedrest, even for just taking it easy. The man never stops, and Simon was hoping you would change that.

Price will want to be at his best at all times to ensure you’re well cared for, even if that means sacrificing taking breaks himself. Simon knows he’s struggling. That need to ensure he’s able to take care of his omega combating his need to push through and do his duty. The job comes first. That’s what had been driven like a nail into their brains since they found out they’d be getting an omega.

How silly they were to think they could uphold that.

Simon glances up as you move, wiggling your way onto your other side. You settle with a sigh, your back now to Johnny. You’re still gripping your bear, arms wrapped around it tightly. He stares at it for a moment, something prickling in the back of his mind as he stares into the beady eyes. It’s almost like they’re staring back at him, cogniscient and aware.

He shakes his head, going back to his book. The isolation of the last week must be getting to him finally.

It’s been an hour since Price left, an hour he’s hopefully spent sleeping. Simon is still dutifully keeping watch, halfway through the book he’d grabbed off your desk. You and Johnny are still sleeping peacefully, Johnny snoring into your pillow with an arm thrown over your side.

The door opens quietly, Kyle sticking his head in. He glances at the bed before entering the room, padding over to Simon quietly.

“Still out?” He asks, speaking quietly.

“Sleeping like pups.” Simon answers.

“You need a break?” Kyle rubs his eyes, still a bit bleary from his own nap.

“I’m good.” Simon responds, holding up the book. “You keep Price from doing too much.”

“You got it, boss.” Kyle smirks, patting his shoulder before leaving the room.

Simon returns to his book, trusting Kyle to do his duty diligently, even if it means keeping Price in a headlock. He doesn’t doubt they’ve been in that position at least once before, and not during training.

Another hour passes before you let out a quiet groan. Simon glances at you, watching the frown start to pull at your eyebrows. One arm untangles from around the bear, reaching out to the nightstand. Your fingers find the top, your arm stretching as far as it can, fingers sliding along the surface in search of something.

Simon marks his place in the book, setting it on the chair before he moves to the bed, kneeling down. He takes your hand, holding it still in an effort not to startle you. “What do you need?” He asks quietly.

“Water.” You croak, licking your lips.

Simon grabs one of the electrolyte drinks, screwing the top off before he helps you sit up a little bit. He holds the bottom of the bottle as you grab it, keeping it steady so you don’t dump it all over yourself as you drink. Your eyes are half open, your hair in quite the interesting shape after laying down with it still damp.

You drink half the bottle before he makes you stop, pulling it away. Soft pants leave your lips as he screws the cap back on the bottle, setting it on the nightstand.

“Better?” He asks, leaning his arm on his knee.

You nod, licking the remainder of the drink off your lips before you flop back against the mattress. He watches you for a second before getting back up, taking his spot on the chair once more.

If you fall back asleep, it’s not for very long. You shift closer to the edge of the bed, the bear falling onto the floor. You let it, laying there with your arm dangling off the side.

“Simon?” You murmur, staring at him sleepily.

He grunts, glancing up from the book. Johnny is still fast asleep, almost on his stomach taking up the space you’ve vacated, his arm still tossed over you.

“What does your mom smell like?”

The question takes him by surprise. He blinks at you for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. It’s an odd question for a time like this, and he almost writes it off as a half-asleep rambling, but your eyes are fully open now, a bit glossy from sleep, but you’re wide awake.

“Flowers.” He finally answers, drawing forward the memories of her scent as he closes the book resting it on his lap. “Fresh flowers on a warm spring day.”

You hum quietly, tucking your hand beneath your cheek. “My mom smelled like warm sugar cookies fresh out of the oven.” You say. “And vanilla.”

So that’s where that soft undertone beneath your scent comes from. He doesn’t say anything, sensing you have more to say.

“After her heats, when we’d come back from the care facility, the house always smelled like sugar cookies.” You swallow thickly. “Every time after her heat, when she was able to, she’d make us cookies. It was like she was apologizing for what we returned to. Most of us didn’t understand until we were older. My brothers never said anything.” A tear slides down your cheek and you hastily wipe it away. “I’m glad they didn’t.”

Simon feels a lump starting to form in his throat, threatening to choke him. He doesn’t miss the meaning behind your words. He knows exactly what you mean. He remembers those times, sleeping in the living room with Tommy, pillows over their ears so they didn’t have to listen. The few times they escaped to friends' houses, they returned to angry fists and blood on the floor. His mother never stepped in during those times because she couldn’t. She’d already endured a week of him. She couldn’t take any more.

Simon didn’t understand it either until he was older. The pain, the suffering, the things mothers try to do to ease the unsettling energy pups endure during heats, or in your case return home to.

He rises from the chair, setting the book down as he frantically blinks back the tears threatening to cloud his vision. He lets out a breath before moving to the bed, kneeling on the floor again. He tosses the bear across the room, almost like it might listen in, learn some secret it shouldn’t know.

He reaches out, brushing the hair from your forehead. Johnny shifts slightly behind you, almost like he can sense your emotions in his sleep. Simon isn’t sure what to say as his fingers brush your cheek, wiping away the tear that slides down your face.

“I miss her.” You whisper, your voice crackling slightly.

“I know.” Simon says, continuing to wipe the tears as they fall. “If I could find her, if it was safe enough, I would. Though, I’d have to beat the living shit out of your father first.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “He deserves it.” You sniffle. “Though, I suppose deep down I don’t hate him completely for his decision. If he hadn’t sent me to the institute, I would have never wound up here.”

Simon lets out a breath, his fingers faltering against your skin. He hadn’t thought of it that way. If things hadn’t happened as they had, they would have never had you as part of their pack. They wouldn’t have ever known you existed, and you might have wound up somewhere worse. Though things weren’t ideal for how they played out, he supposes the outcome wasn’t that terrible for any of you.

He is glad things happened this way too, even if he still wants to beat the shit out of your dad.

“Do you want me to make you cookies?” He asks, his thumb still brushing your cheek.

“No, that’s okay.” You say, attempting to pull the blanket up further, but Johnny’s weight is hogging it. “I’m more of a brownie person anyway.”

“Do you want brownies, then?” He asks, shoving Johnny to the side to pull the blanket up. He lets out a snore, mumbling in his sleep before pulling his arm from your waist to tuck it up against his chest.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” You say, blinking up at him as he tucks the blanket around you.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead through the mask.

An hour later you're wrapped in a blanket, reclined on the rec room couch with a plate of warm brownies on your chest. Your fingers are sticky with chocolate as you half watch whatever daytime TV is playing, content in your cocoon with your sweet treat.

“You really make those brownies?” Kyle asks, leaning against the wall across the hall.

“Nah, bribed one of the chefs to do it.” Simon says, standing next to him.

“Bribed, or threatened?” Kyle smirks.

“I asked nicely this time.” Simon says, crossing his arms. “Said it was life or death.”

Kyle's brows raise. “Might be next time with how she's downing them. This will become a thing now.”

Simon shrugs. “Makes her happy after everything. I'll threaten - I mean ask, whatever chef I need to each time.”

“John is going to worry about her getting cavities.” Kyle watches as you shove an entire brownie into your mouth at once. “Or diabetes.”

Simon shrugs. “We’ll force some protein in her later. Maybe another vegetable.”

Johnny turns the corner rubbing his eyes. “Smells fuckin’ braw down here. Like chocolate.”

“No.” Simon says, grabbing him by the nape and turning him around. “You’re not taking that risk. Last time you tried she drew blood.” He walks Johnny back down the hall. “Might lose a finger this time.”

Kyle watches them, shaking his head. Johnny had paid for trying to steal your popcorn before your heat started. You caught him on the shoulder with your teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood. That had been an interesting trip to the med center. The best part was you didn’t even look guilty. He’d found you eating the last pieces of popcorn up off the floor.

He pushes off the wall, entering the rec room. You turn to look at him, giving him a grin with your chocolate stained lips. It’s all over your face but you don’t seem to care as you shove the second to last brownie into your mouth.

“Taste good?” He asks, sitting on the edge of the couch next to you.

You nod, licking chocolate off your fingers. It doesn’t do much good, only smearing it further. “Very good.”

“Stomach hurt yet?” He gives you a look.

You shake your head. “Nope. Just my pussy.”

He nearly chokes at your words, having to cover his mouth to hide his laugh, but he’s only partially successful. He takes a couple deep breaths, running his hand down his face to try and keep his composure. You seem to lose your filter in the week before and after your heat. It’s like it removes that last layer of uncertainty that keeps your personality from shining through all the time.

“It’s almost time for another dose of muscle relaxers.” He says, still trying not to laugh. “If you want another one.”

You nod, taking a bite out of the last brownie this time. “Mhm.” You nod in agreement, chewing slowly like you’re trying to savor it. Like you couldn’t convince them to get you anything you wanted at any time. “Feel like I was in a helicopter crash.”

Kyle snorts quietly. “I can imagine.”

You stop chewing for a moment, blinking at him. “You’ve been in one before?” The words come out around the brownie still in your mouth, barely intelligible but he understands them perfectly.

“A couple times.” He shrugs. “Fell out of one once too.”

Your mouth hangs open, the last piece of brownie centimeters from your lips. “Huh?”

He grins, pushing the brownie so it’s touching your lips. “That’s a story for another time. Finish your brownie then you can take your medication.”

You shove the last piece into your mouth, staring down at your hands as you chew. Kyle moves the plate from your chest, setting it on the coffee table. You hold your hands out to him. “Sticky.”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue around it to clean off the sweet chocolate. You stare at him wide eyed, mouth slightly parted as he moves to the next finger. He cleans the chocolate off of one hand before moving it out of the way as he leans in. He kisses you, licking the chocolate off of your lips. You whine against his mouth, his other hand catching your other wrist before it can touch him and cover him in chocolate.

He pulls away, leaving you panting. You pout, chocolate still stuck to your face and hands. “That’s not fair.”

He smirks, licking the sticky sweetness of his lips. “Almost as sweet as your slick.”

You stare at him wide eyed, hands still in the air as your mouth hangs open. “Huh?”

“I’ll go get a rag, clean you up.” He pats your leg before standing.

“You can’t just leave me with that!” You yell as he heads for the bathroom across the hall.

He’ll tell you, of course. He might just wait until you’re feeling less sore, though.

2 Weeks After

Two weeks pass and so does the pain in your pelvis. It had dulled to a slight throb by the end of the first week, only rearing its ugly head if you sat on a hard surface. You were back for the most part to your normal routine. Waking up early some mornings for training or running, more like jogging right now, on the other days, then breakfast, then stretching for a bit while the guys go to their own training, or your weekly visits with Dr. Keller. Then lunch, then your free time until dinner, then the guys’ free time before bed.

It feels good, being back in a semi-normal routine. It makes your omega purr in delight being able to predict and plan around a set schedule. Maybe you are perfect for this lifestyle.

Maybe Kate had been right in choosing you for this. Maybe the initiative was a good idea. Omegas thrive around routine and schedules and predictability. It’s not hard to understand why omegas aren’t allowed in the military, but perhaps integrating them into packs wouldn’t be as bad of an idea as you once thought. Though, you do wish the food was better sometimes.

That might just be British food in general, though.

You do miss America. Even after months away, you still feel that yearning for what you thought of as home. Or maybe you were just yearning for your family, the way things were before you committed a sin in your fathers eyes. It wasn’t hard to tell he wished you were never born, or maybe if you had been another son you wouldn’t have disappointed him. Your brothers didn’t disappoint him, so why did you have to be the one to do it?

Your half asleep conversation with Simon hasn’t left your mind. You do miss your family, your parents. Despite all his faults and failures, you do miss your dad too. He wasn’t all bad, there were good moments in there, though you don’t think you could ever fully forgive him for forcing you away in shame over something you couldn’t control. If it hadn’t happened, though, you would have never wound up here. Though it wasn’t ideal, you wouldn’t trade your pack for anything.

That doesn’t stop the subtle ache in your chest at the thought of your mother. Though you know the chances are slim that you would ever get to see her again, you just want to know that she’s alright.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

Simon’s words ring in your ears, bringing you back to reality again. The plastic around your wrists snaps off before he stands, holstering his knife quickly.

“Good to know even in these situations you’ll dissociate your way through it.” He says, lifting you right out of the chair and tossing you over his shoulder in one movement.

“It’s called a coping mechanism.” You yell as he races out of the building and over the finish line.

He lowers you down off of his shoulder, your legs nearly giving out as your feet hit the concrete floor of the warehouse. You take a deep breath, feeling like your diaphragm has been compressed by the edge of your own tactical vest.

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds.” John says, writing the time down on his sheet.

“Not bad, LT.” Johnny says, punching Simon’s shoulder.

“Let’s see if you can do better.” Simon says, punching his shoulder back, only harder.

Johnny winces, rubbing his shoulder as Simon steps away.

“Gimme minute.” You gasp out, leaning against a crate so you can catch your breath. “These vests are not comfortable.”

“Be worse if it was full gear.” Johnny says.

You make a face. “Don’t you guys carry like 100 pounds of gear or something?”

“41 kilos at the most, usually.” Kyle shrugs.

You blink at him, trying to do the math in your head. You’ve gotten used to trying to convert, though you utilize your phone for it more than anything. Of course you don’t have that right now. It’s tucked away in John’s pocket.

“Roughly 90 pounds in freedom units.” Johnny says.

“Ah.” You nod, choosing to ignore his comment for now. “That’s still a lot. I couldn’t carry that.”

“Luckily you don’t have to.” John says, stepping up to you. “Come on, one more.” He motions with his head.

You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. At least in this exercise you don’t have to do anything but sit there. You adjust your vest as you follow him into the makeshift house, heading into the room with the chair for the third time. You were playing hostage again, this time in a timed test. Get in, take out the fake targets and then rescue the hostage. They’re firing blanks, but they don’t know what room you’re in so there’s a slight chance you could take a shot still, if they get a bit trigger happy under pressure.

You plop down in the chair again, holding your hands behind your back. John holds your wrists in one hand, the other securing the zip tie around them. It sends a shiver up your spine, the thoughts of what he could do with a set of ropes flashing through your mind.

“Alright?” He asks, slipping a finger between your wrists and the zip tie. You could slip out of them easily if you had to.

“Yeah.” You breathe, leaning your cheek against his hand as he puts it on your shoulder.

“One more, then we can get lunch.” He squeezes your shoulder gently.

“Mhm.” You hum before sitting up straight in the chair.

He leaves you there, closing the door and you wait patiently for the beep of the timer. Your feet tap expectantly as you listen to the door fly open, the crack of blanks being fired. The first round with Kyle had been nerve wracking, your muscles tensing with every loud noise. The three minutes and ten seconds had felt like a lifetime as you waited for the door to fly open and him to rescue you.

By the second round you knew what to expect, and had even managed to drift off into your thoughts. Of course it had been during Simon’s turn. It was like your brain just automatically drifted off as soon as it realized he was coming. A pavlovian response to his presence.

The time passing feels like an age as you wait, and you wonder how long it’s really taking Johnny. You had tried counting seconds but had lost count after about a minute. Simon and Johnny were in constant battle for second place, bumping each other up and down the list. Kyle remained in first place in almost all the training you’ve seen or heard about, fast and efficient and forever taunting the competitive Johnny.

You flinch when the door flies open, Johnny quickly lowering his rifle. “Hi kitten.” He grins as he pulls out his knife, popping the plastic zip tie off your wrists. “Yer hero is here tae save the day.”

He lifts you over his shoulder before racing out of the crudely built house, your vest digging into your stomach again. It’s making you almost nauseous, the bounce from Johnny running not helping any.

He sets you on your feet after he crosses the line and you nearly fall backwards from the sudden rush of blood to your head.

“Three minutes and twelve seconds.” John says, writing the time down.

“Ha! I did it again!” Johnny says, throwing his hands in the air.

“Not bad, Sergeant.” Simon says.

“Not the fastest, though.” Kyle smirks, Johnny just two seconds below his time.

“I’ll get there.” Johnny says, puffing his chest. “Ye just wait.”

You tug at the velcro restraints on the vest, managing to get one side undone before pulling it off of you. You let it drop to the floor, breathing out a sigh of relief as you cup your breasts. “My poor tits. They were being compressed.”

Johnny grins, completely switching mindsets from the previous conversation in the blink of an eye. “Ye need me tae massage them back to life?” He asks, reaching out towards you.

Simon slaps his hands away, pushing him back. “Not in public you won’t.”

Johnny pouts, but you give him a grin. “Later.” You wink at him before cantering after John.

You slip your hand into his, leaning against his side as you and your pack leave the warehouse to head to lunch. You’re hungry after such an exciting morning, the ache in your stomach easing after removing the vest. You don’t know how they wear them all the time, but then again they’re men and don’t have boobs to worry about. Well, except for maybe Simon and his massive pecs. He has to get sore after a while.

John pulls away from you as you near the mess, giving you a soft pat on the ass. “Go on. I’ll join you shortly.”

You grin at him before latching on to Kyle, wrapping your fingers around his hand as he leads you into the mess. It’s busy as usual during prime meal time, alive and bustling with soldiers and conversations. You stick close to Kyle, Simon and Johnny walking behind the two of you like threatening shadows, the passing soldiers giving you the usual wide berth.

Simon yanks the tray out of your hands before you can set it on the tray slide, putting it down next to his before he begins putting food on it for you. You beam up at him, giving him a giddy smile. “Don’t.” He warns, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll make you eat mushy peas again.”

You make a disgusted face, but you still can’t hide your happiness as Simon makes your tray for you, carrying it over to the table. You plop down next to him, sitting as close as you can. He stares down at you for a long moment before sighing, resting his arm on the table and pushing you to the side just slightly to give himself more room.

The smile doesn’t leave your face as you eat, Simon having put all your favorites on the tray. Your scent is sweet in the air, filled with contentment and happiness. Your feet even tap under the table, making up some random rhythm. Even being surrounded by unknown alphas and betas, you feel comfortable and safe with your pack around you.

“Someone got bit by the happy bug.” Johnny says, glancing at you as John joins you at the table.

“I am happy.” You shrug. “We’re all together and everyone is fine and content. Makes my omega happy.”

John smiles at you across the table. “I’m glad you feel that way, sweetheart.”

“Aye, just a crouse wee omega.” Johnny says, patting your head.

You turn to him blinking. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I think it’s a compliment.” Kyle says.

“Aye.” Johnny says, pulling you close to kiss the side of your head. “Wouldnae be mean to ye. These dunderheid’s though...”

Simon reaches over you, smacking the back of Johnny’s head. “We know what that means, you wanker.”

You can’t help but giggle, even as your table gets some looks for the sudden rambunctious energy.

3 Weeks After

Another week passes, same as it always does.

Your routine stays steady, waking up early some mornings for training or running, breakfast, then stretching for a bit while the guys go to their own training, or your weekly visits to Dr. Keller. Then lunch, then your free time until dinner, then the guys free time before bed. Your life is back to a predictable cycle, and where some might consider it boring, it’s far from it.

Mostly because you have free time to look forward to.

Tonight you’re spending it in the living room with Kyle, both of you scrolling on your phones. The TV is on, playing some game show that neither of you are paying attention to. You’re far too busy on your phone, scrolling through websites. You’ve started to run low on panties again, and you’d rather not subject the poor, innocent shoppers of the lingerie store to another scent overload if Simon went with you. Not after the developments between the two of you.

You might not be able to stop him from getting a bit...handsy.

So instead you’re looking online, finding far more options than in the store, and so many possibilities. You’re having trouble making up your mind.

“Kyle?” You pat his arm lightly, trying to decide between colors. You want his input, and you’d prefer not to get Johnny involved. You’ll wind up forgetting all about your attempts to fill your dwindling underwear drawer. “Kyle?” You pat his arm a little harder.

“Hm?” He hums, still looking at his phone.

“Kyle?” You shake him, but he’s locked in on whatever he’s looking at. An idea comes to mind, something that might get his attention. You sigh, turning to face him. “Daddy?”

He hums again, turning to glance at you for a second before his head whips around, turning to stare at you wide eyed. “Huh?”

“I need your help choosing a color.” You say, scooting closer to him, pretending like you didn’t just call him ‘daddy.’

“What did you just call me?” He’s bewildered, not even looking at your phone as you hold it out to him.

“I need your help.” You say, pointing at your phone.

“No, first we’re gonna cover this.” He says, pulling your phone out of your hand. “Did you just call me ‘daddy?’” He asks in disbelief, a grin pulling at the sides of his lips.

“Yeah.” You deadpan, staring up at him. “I needed your attention.”

“So you chose ‘daddy?’” He laughs.

“Well, it worked didn’t it?” You shrug.

“You fucking-” He breathes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “What are we going to do with you?”

You shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I dunno, thought you’d keep me around since I’m kinda funny and nice to look at.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I love you.”

You grin, shifting closer to him. “You do?”

“Mhm.” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “Hard not to.”

You smile down at him, getting lost in those big brown eyes for a moment. They’re so soft and tender as they look at you, and you can almost feel the affection radiating off of him. “I love you too.” You say, leaning down to kiss him.

He meets your lips eagerly, kissing you deeply. It conveys his love and the deep feelings he has for you, his arms tightening to pull you tight against his chest.

He presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away, smiling softly up at you. You want to kiss him again with that look on his face. You’ve never doubted that any of them love you, well, except maybe Simon but he’s a special case. He at least likes you now.

“What was it you wanted to ask me?” He says, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You blink at him, coming out of your stupor. “Oh!” You grab your phone from where he’d set it on the couch, pulling up the webpage again. “Which color?”

You hold it up to his face, flicking between the two shades of blue you can’t decide on. He stares at the screen for a moment, his hands trailing down your back.

“I think I quite prefer no panties.” He says, slipping his hands under your sweatpants.

“Kyle, pay attention. This is important.” You say, continuing to flip between the two colors.

He hums, his hands cupping your ass. “Get them both. John is gonna rip them both off you anyway.” He says, leaning forward to nip at your bottom lip.

You hum, pushing your ass back into his hands as you sit back. “You’re right. Between him and Simon, my stash is getting smaller faster than it had been before. Would help if Johnny quit stealing them too.”

Kyle pulls your phone from your hand, dropping it onto the couch again. His eyes are dark, his scent thicker in the air. A shiver runs down your spine at the musky edge to it, his hands pulling you close against his chest again. You can feel the bulge under his pants as your arms wrap around his neck again.

“Worry about that later.” He murmurs, pressing his face into your neck. His lips brush the delicate skin, drawing a quiet sound from your lips. “Right now, I need to show you just how much I love you.”

He presses a kiss to your pulse before he shifts on the couch, using his grip on you to lift you before moving you onto your back. He hovers over you for a moment before moving back to kneel between your legs. His fingers slip under your shirt, trailing the skin above your sweatpants.

“Oh.” You say, knowing exactly where this is going.

He smirks. “Hope you don’t have plans tonight.” His fingers slip under your waistband, starting to tug your pants down. “We’re gonna be here for a while.”

You're rudely woken after falling asleep quite contently. The arms around you are moving, the chest against your back shifting. It's far too early in the morning, you can tell just by how crusty your eyes feel. The movement behind you stops, and you crack your eyes open in curiosity.

There's a phone in front of you, screen facing towards you with the camera open. You quickly close your eyes, pretending to be asleep and the quiet click of the camera sounds a couple times. You open your eyes again as the arm under you flexes, the quiet click of the keyboard making you curious.

Kyle has the group chat open, the one you're not a part of. You've been curious about it since Johnny mentioned it, the need to see what's in it eating you alive. You had tried John's phone but he keeps it locked like they all do. You really should start paying better attention so you can learn their passwords and lock patterns. Would have come in handy in this situation.

He's posting the picture of you sleeping, and you wait until he's hit send before you strike. You fling the blankets back, grabbing the phone from his hands as you escape his grip. You have his surprise on your side as you just escape his hands grabbing you as you race for the door. You fling it open, running down the hall towards the rec room, victorious giggles leaving your lips. Kyle is on your heels, but your bare feet give you traction as you fake left before heading straight into the laundry room. You manage to get in the door and get it locked seconds before he slams against it.

You grin victoriously as you push yourself up to sit on a washing machine, finally feeding your curiosity. You ignore the sounds at the door as you scroll through the photos of you, most of them of you sleeping in various positions with many heart eyes from Johnny following. There's texts about you and your training, how impressed they are with your progress, complaints about their dicks hurting and a photo of Johnny's asking if it looks normal or not.

A photo of Johnny's drawing of you giving him head is next, then a photo of you, tits out and mouth open, your face a picture of bliss sent by Simon. When he had even taken that, you're not sure. There's texts from Kyle giving out advice on eating you out, a few texts from John about positions, as well as a few boring texts talking about your favorite foods, or at least what you pick most often, as well as a short debate about the never ending tea vs coffee argument.

You've just gotten to the interesting texts about your earlier days with the pack when the door handle falls to the floor with a clang. The door flies open as Kyle shoulders his way through, reaching you in two strides and pulling his phone from your hands.

“Hey!” You complain, but you don't get much of a chance to continue before Kyle is tossing you over his shoulder, leaving the laundry room.

“This little sneak was scrolling through the group chat.” Kyle says, setting you on your feet in the concourse. John, Johnny, and Simon are waiting there and you wind up in the middle of the circle.

“I was just curious. It's only fair considering it's about me.” You pout.

“How'd you find out about it?” Simon asks, crossing his arms. You turn to look at Johnny, their gazes following. “Fucking hell.” Simon breathes.

“What?” Johnny asks, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “She was gonnae find out eventually.”

“Yeah.” You cross your arms pouting more. “Taking pictures of me in my sleep.” You murmur.

“Can't help it, love.” Kyle says. “Not when you're just so cute.”

You grumble under your breath before looking up at Simon. “How did you get that picture of me cumming?”

He snorts quietly. “You're not very aware when you're orgasming, love.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as they all step closer, closing in around you. You gulp, looking between Simon and Johnny who are in front of you.

“We all appreciated that one.” John says, his voice raspier than normal.

“Bout had a circle jerk to it.” Kyle says.

You gulp again, the mental image of kneeling in the middle of them, cocks out as they cum all over you sending a thrilled shiver down your spine. Your scent thickens in the air, your eyes meeting Simon's as they press in even closer around you. You can almost feel John and Kyle pressed up against your back, their scents mixing into an alluring cocktail around you.

“Maybe soon we won't need that group chat.” John says, dragging a knuckle down your spine.

A shiver wracks through you, your nipples hardening and poking through the baggy shirt. Johnny curses, the toothbrush falling from his mouth as he stares right at your tits.

“Would you like that, baby girl?” Kyle asks, leaning down towards you. “Think you can take all four of us?”

Your mouth waters as the many images you've conjured up of the five of you together flash through your mind.

You let out a quiet sound as John's hand smacks against your ass, pushing you forward towards Simon and Johnny. “You haven't answered the question.”

“Yeah.” You breathe, eyes locked on Simon's hand as it lifts.

He grips your chin, lifting your face up so you're looking him in the eyes. “Want to try that again, omega?” The low rumble of his voice and your status coming from him has another shiver trailing down your spine, heading straight between your legs.

Your scent thickens in the air, your breathing picking up as you swallow thickly. “Yes, sir.”

A pleased growl rumbles in Simon's chest, Johnny groaning in response. “Good omega.”

You nearly fall to your knees right there, ready to take all four of their dicks at once, but you manage to keep your legs under you as Simon releases your chin. You're ready for it, that moment that the bonds open completely between the five of you and you allow yourselves that vulnerability with each other. Your pussy has been clenching in anticipation of seeing Simon and Kyle together. The image of Johnny's head between John's thighs had been plaguing you for weeks now. Even the image of John and Simon, hands on each other's cocks, has your head spinning.

Warmth presses against your back, hot breath fanning against your ear as you tremble in anticipation. John's tongue darts out, licking the shell of your ear before he nearly purrs his promise.

“Soon.”

4 Weeks After

It’s a Friday evening.

They’re always rough, the transition between the schedule of the weekdays and the unknown of the weekend always has your head spinning a bit. You feel a bit uneasy as you stand in the doorway to your room, staring into the darkness lit only by your nightlight on your desk. It casts a shadow over your bed, and for a moment you feel as if something is standing there, hidden in the shadows as it stares at you. You’re afraid to turn the light on, afraid to reveal what might be lingering in the darkness.

You quietly close your door before hurrying down the hallway, nearly knocking your shoulder against the corner as you turn. You take a moment once you’re in front of the door before knocking quietly. You try to steady the rapid beat of your heart as you wait, your fingers trembling around the handle as you get the call to enter.

The door clicks shut behind you, John’s eyes on you as you turn around.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his brows furrowing slightly.

You nod, stepping up to his desk. “Yeah, just...feeling a bit on edge.” You swallow your nerves, trying to calm yourself. “Can I...can I kneel for you?”

“Of course.” He says, pushing his rolling chair to the side to give you room.

It’s been a while since you knelt for him. Not since the week after your heat ended. Your knees had hurt, but you’d quickly forgotten after he eased you into that blissful state where your mind becomes unaware and your worries begin to float away.

You need that right now.

You kneel down on the floor beside him, sitting back on your feet. Your breath shakes as he runs a hand over your head, moving your hair out of the way. Your hands curl into the fabric of your shirt as you relax, trying to calm the stress from just a few moments ago. Soon it will be over. Soon it will be behind you as your alpha helps you calm those thoughts. You wait for it, the warmth of his hand around the back of your neck, for the gentle press of his fingers against those pressure points in your neck.

You’ve been working with Dr. Keller on your instincts, on how to get better control over them. She hasn’t graduated you to those pressure points yet, the most sensitive in your entire body. The ones that draw the thin line between kneeling and scruffing. You’re glad she hasn’t pushed that far yet. You’re not quite sure you could handle it.

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you relax your shoulders, eyes fluttering closed as he begins to apply the gentle pressure, your mind quieting into a hum. You begin to float away, all awareness of the office you’re enclosed in drifting into the distance. All there is, is you and your alpha and the gentle pressure of his fingers guiding your brain into peace and quiet. All the worry, all the stress, all the fear you had been feeling even as recently as a few minutes ago, begin to ease away into nothing. The worry and grief you’ve been feeling around your mother begins to quiet, drifting away for the moment. It’s relieving, your mind calming into a quiet buzz, finally easing away all the swirling emotions from the last few weeks.

Time seems to still, sounds muffling as you kneel there, being supported by your alpha. He’s always there, always ready to give you what you need. You trust him, even in your most vulnerable moments. He’ll always be there to support you, to catch you when you fall. He’ll never leave you, never betray you.

6 Weeks After

Things feel strange when you wake. It’s later than you usually nap, the sun not quite as bright as it usually is in your window. It’s quiet in the barracks, the usual sound of boots on the tile floor absent, the shuffling of bodies as they return from training. Even the fullness in the air, the energy of their presence is missing. The barracks feel empty.

They’re still gone.

You lift your phone, blinking away the sleep as you stare at the bright screen. It’s just past 11:30 in the morning, and there’s a text from John.

‘Training late. One of us will take you to lunch.’

You let out a quiet groan, setting your phone back on the nightstand. You roll over, tugging a bear against your chest. You trace your fingers along the bear’s back, running your fingers absentmindedly over the soft fur. You’re groggy with sleep, not meaning to sleep so early. You’ve been taking afternoon naps lately to make up for your early mornings. It’s not that unusual for you to nap, but you’ve been tired more than normal lately.

Ever since your heat, there’s been a nagging at the back of your brain, some kind of warning going off, yet you can’t quite figure out what it is. The feeling of being watched is back, but you searched every inch of your room and there were no more cameras. There wouldn’t have been a time where someone could have entered the barracks unseen. Someone would have seen. Someone would have noticed and alerted John, right?

Unless they’re all in on it.

You’re yanked out of your paranoid thoughts as your fingers brush a raised part of the seam on the bear’s back. You’ve never noticed it before, the small bump almost like there’s a hole starting. You’ll have to ask Johnny if he can patch it later.

You pull the bear away from your chest, staring at it for a moment. You look into its eyes, into the blank, plastic black holes that stare right back at you. Something tickles down your spine, your hackles raising. Danger! Your mind screams, your fingers starting to shake the longer you stare into those eyes.

Maybe you are starting to go crazy.

You set the bear down on the bed, facing towards your room as you get up, stretching your arms over your head. You pull the baggy shirt you’d changed into over your head, pulling on the bra you’d ditched earlier and the clothes you’d taken off in favor of something more comfortable to nap in.

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you head for the bathroom, letting out a quiet curse as you hit your knee against the open cupboard door. You kick it closed before standing at the sink, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You let out a sigh, dragging your fingers through your hair before walking back out to your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed. The bear falls forward but you don’t bother picking it up, grabbing your phone as you wait for whoever it is that’s going to pick you up.

That familiar tickling in the back of your brain picks up again, your eyes darting around the room. There’s nothing. You’ve checked before. You’ve checked several times when you were alone, tearing apart your room and putting it back together. You’ve learned Simon’s organization system, memorized it to put almost everything back almost exactly as he had it. You always leave at least one thing out of place, just to make it seem less perfect.

Perfection from you would raise suspicions.

How strange it is that at one time you yearned for perfection, drove yourself to tears of shame trying to be the perfect omega. There’s no such thing as a perfect omega, because perfect people don’t exist. You may look perfect on paper, but in reality you’re far from it. Your pack doesn't care. They never cared. John never cared about your scores, the many essays you poured hours into at the institute. He never cared about what the CIA had to say, their own remarks on your aptitude, your ability to learn and adapt, your drive for success that was almost a fatal flaw.

He always cared about you. They all only cared about you and what makes you a person, an individual. Not just an omega, but an actual living, breathing human being.

The thought brings tears to your eyes. How many hours you stressed and the things you hid to try and come across as perfect when they were never interested in perfection. Would they have cared, had you been allowed in the military? Would they have cared about perfection if you weren’t just a part of the pack, but also a part of the team?

You’re not, though. You’re an omega, you’re their omega. You don’t know things because they have to keep you safe.

If only you had been honest with them.

It’s been almost four months since you discovered the cameras, since they left and you made the stupid decision to break the rules, to go against everything they drilled into your head. Don’t talk to any strangers. Don’t leave the barracks alone. Tell us, or Dr. Keller if anything happens.

You failed all three of those in a matter of hours. You’ve continued to fail one of them.

They can’t ever know. It’s going to be a secret you take to your grave.

They have their secrets, so why can’t you have yours?

The uneasy feeling continues to grow, a shiver running down your spine as you sit there. You can’t take it anymore. You have to get out. You grab your phone, slipping on a pair of shoes before slipping out your door, pulling it closed.

You let out a shriek as you turn, a looming figure standing right in front of you.

“Simon!” You shout, putting a hand on your chest, your heart beating rapidly under your palm. You take deep breaths, trying to calm your panic. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Jumpy today.” He rumbles, staring at you as you try to stop yourself from having a heart attack.

“Not my fault you’re like a ghost.” You stand up, driving your fist into his chest. It hits his pec, and you’re sure it hurts you more than it does him. “You can’t just go sneaking up on people like that! Fuck.” You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall for a moment.

“I think you’ll live.” He says, stepping up closer to you. You tilt your head up, staring at his face. He’s wearing his eye black today, meaning they were doing training training. It makes something stir in your stomach, the sight of him in his gear, eye black on to hide his face further. How he looks in the field. Even now with his gear removed, you still feel warmth in your stomach. It’s exciting, the difference between Simon and Ghost. Though he has tried to keep you under the tender touch of Simon, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost began to show himself occasionally. You’d let him bend you over a crate in the warehouse, fuck you in full gear where anyone could walk in and see. The mental image of him, covered in blood, smearing it on your skin as he takes that post-fight adrenaline out on you...

You try to calm the rush of arousal straight between your legs.

“I don’t know.” You pout. “Think I might need a kiss to make it better.”

He stares at you for a moment before shifting so he’s hovering over you, pressing his hand against the wall above your head. He continues to stare down at you, his eyes boring into yours. “Well?” He asks, his voice low. “Are you going to get your kiss?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare up at him. You hesitate, unsure if you’re supposed to cross this boundary, if he’s really opening this door. He’s always been the one to move the mask, to lift it before leaning down. Instead this time he’s allowing you to do it, to lift the mask, to reach up to him.

He doesn’t move as you lift your hands, your fingers trembling as they close around the edge of his mask. You slowly lift it up, rolling it up over the tip of his nose. You stop there, unsure if you should continue. If he wanted you to take it off completely, he would have made that clear. You doubt he’d do it here, in the hallway. It feels like far too intimate of a moment to be done in the hallway.

Your fingers trace his lips, sliding down to brush over the scar on his chin, his stubble tickling your fingers. You drop your hands to his shoulders, using them as leverage to lift up on your toes. You wrap your arms around his neck and he lets you pull him down slightly so you can press your lips to his.

He kisses you deeply, pushing you back up against the wall, crowding into your space. You don’t mind it, his presence comforting, encompassing. It wraps you in a cloak of safety and security. Nothing can hurt you while you’re close to him.

You know that, so why can’t he ease the prickling fear lingering in the back of your mind? Something is off, something not even Simon can protect you from.

That thought makes your stomach clench, and not in a good way.

Simon’s other hand falls to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he kisses you like he’s trying to devour you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moan quietly, pressing your tongue against his. His muscles are tense and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to lift you up, carry you to his room and fuck your brains out. He has a mission though, he’s been sent here for a reason.

“One of us will take you to lunch.”

He pulls away from your lips, pressing one last soft peck to them before stepping away. You’re panting softly for a different reason now, your heart thudding in your chest from the raw energy that Simon exudes. It makes your omega stir in the back of your mind, prickling down your spine. It mixes with the paranoia, the tickling of danger creating an almost toxic cocktail of sensations. It puts you on edge, your body seeking out Simon’s, and you’re not sure if you want him to hold you or fuck you.

He tugs his mask back down, lowering his head to stare at you. “C’mon. Let’s get food in you before you get grumpy.”

“I don’t get grumpy.” You pout, pushing yourself off the wall.

He gives you a look of disbelief.

“Okay, fine, I get a little grumpy.” You say, following him out of the barracks.

You walk with him, slipping your arm around his. The uncomfortable prickling sensation doesn’t ease up any as you walk towards the mess, your fingers wrapping around the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It’s a path you’ve followed many times, so often you’re surprised there’s no footprints worn into the asphalt and gravel.

You let go of his arm as you enter the mess. It’s prime meal time again, meaning it’s full of soldiers getting their second meal of the day. The back of your mind is tickling again, your metaphorical hackles raising. Your eyes dart around the tables as you pause, your feet gluing themselves to the floor, rendering you unable to move. That feeling is back, the feeling like someone is watching you, someone who shouldn’t be.

They’re all staring at you. They all shouldn’t. Nothing can stop that. You’re in a public place. They’re going to stare, they’re going to assess. That’s what they’re trained to do.

It could be any of them.

The thought makes you sick. Any of them could have put the cameras in your room. Any of them could have violated your space, set up invisible eyes to watch and record you and everything you do, everything you say. They could have watched you with the others, watched your heat. They would have seen you in your most vulnerable moments, the amount of times you’ve changed in your room, come out of the shower in nothing but a towel.

The blood is pulsing in your ears, the sounds simultaneously too loud and too quiet. You stand there, frozen, your chest rising and falling quickly as you begin to hyperventilate. They’re staring at you, curiously and cautiously. You know you’re projecting, your body trying to keep you safe from whatever threat is causing this reaction, even if it’s just in your mind.

You let out a yelp as hands grab you, more of them turning to look at you. Your head snaps to the side, the hand that had curled into a fist instinctively relaxing as you recognize Simon staring down at you. He doesn’t have to say anything as he pushes you towards the door, your feet freeing themselves from the glue that held them down automatically, moving before you even realize it.

You gulp down breaths of fresh air as you step outside, your feet stumbling in the gravel. Your hands are going numb, twisting into fists as adrenaline pumps through you. Simon keeps you steady, moving you away from the door. He takes you around the side of the mess to where there’s tables set up, the place you’ve seen most often used as a smoking area. Thankfully it’s empty right now, Simon pushing you to sit on the bench. He sits on the bench on the other side of the table, leaning on his arms as he stares at you.

Your breathing is starting to relax now that you’re no longer confined in that space, surrounded by soldiers and alphas, ones that might hurt you. Simon doesn’t say anything for a while, eyes analyzing and observing as you work to calm yourself. Your hands slowly relax, uncurling as you take deep breaths, calming the adrenaline. Your eyes are burning, tears of embarrassment and fear stinging your waterline.

“You want to tell me what happened in there?” Simon finally asks, leaning slightly closer to you.

You know he doesn’t mean to, but his tone sounds almost accusing, prying and interrogating you for some logical explanation as to why you just had a panic attack in the mess. He could probably sense the nervous energy coming off of you in waves since he first stepped into the barracks, something not even a kiss from him could push away. You desperately want to sink into him, to hold him until you’ve become one, safe and secure where no one can hurt you.

Where no one would dare watch you.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers twisting together nervously on the table. “I-I don’t know. It’s just...it’s all so much and it feels like everything is wrong.” The words come spilling out before you can stop them, bearing your inner thoughts to the alpha in front of you. “I-I’m going insane. Between the fear and the paranoia and the worry, I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t feel safe anymore, and ever since I found the cameras I feel like I’ve been silently spiraling out of control-”

The words cut off as you realize what you just said. It had slipped out before you could even stop it. Maybe it was the yearning for some kind of relief, for the weight of your secret to finally be removed from your shoulders. Maybe it was the safety you felt around Simon urging you to confess, urging you to seek out that safety once more.

Or maybe everything has become too much, and you’re at the risk of spiraling to a place you can’t come back from, and your omega is desperately pushing everything out in an attempt to save you. The paranoia of earlier in your room, the creeping feeling that you missed something, that someone is watching you, the thought that it could be anyone in the mess right now, anyone on base. It makes you sick thinking about it, and perhaps this was a last ditch effort to avoid it scaring you permanently.

Simon’s back straightens as he stares at you, and for a moment you hope he didn’t hear it, that he might shrug it off as something he misheard. You’re gaslighting yourself, attempting to ease the panic that’s rising in you again. You know he heard it. He’s far too attentive, far too aware to miss something like that. There’s no going back now, there’s no playing it off. You can’t lie again. You’re not even trying to make up a story, an excuse as you wait for his response, for the inevitable question.

His eyes are piercing into you, all the softness he had been looking at you with before gone. His voice is low, dangerous, not offering up a chance to lie your way out of this again, but telling you, you can’t lie. He knows. You’ve spilled it and there’s no going back now.

“You want to repeat that?”

Fuck.

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kohanayaki · 4 years ago

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

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my-mt-heart · 3 years ago

Note

Everyone worries about Caryl but is anyone wondering how will they make Daryl leave Grimes children behind for the spin-off? I mean, Angela makes sure to show as his attachment to the kids and one would think that if he were to leave them at one point than they would put children under the care of someone else in CW. There was a moment when I thought Rosita would be that person by it's still Daryl who is their guardian. So, my worry is how they gonna write Daryl and without making him OOC by leaving those kids?

I don't see Rick or Michonne coming back, but I also don't see Daryl leaving Judith as I see him carrying for her deeply

I know they foreshadowed his leaving by telling Judith he would not be there always but how are they gonna do this? It drives me crazy when I think about it and it's the second thing after rushing Caryl I fear. I would hate to see a moment close to the one with Michonne leaving her kids. That was a major OOC and I don't know if I stand another.

Of course, the kids may die but would Kang kill them?

I've talked about this a bunch already, so apologies if I come off a little exasperated. I don't mean to. The very first thing you have to bear in mind is that neither Michonne nor Daryl leaving Judith and RJ are purely creative decisions. Bottom line, Michonne left because Danai wanted off the show. Daryl is leaving because he and Carol have a spinoff, and if that was already being planned before the Danai/Michonne issue cropped up, then that means Daryl was never intended to become the kids' primary caregiver in the first place. But when actors' wishes and business deals get in the way, all the writers can do is try to write around them, and often times the execution does get a little messy. It's not an ideal situation, and some suspension of disbelief may be required.

Now all that being said, I *strongly* disagree with the notion that Michonne and Daryl are acting OOC. On the contrary, I think wanting to find the love of her life she thought was dead for 6+ years is the most natural thing in the world, and yet we still saw her struggle with the decision. Why? Because of the kids. She didn't want to leave them and she probably wouldn't have except that Judith, the kid she feared would suffer in her absence, gave Michonne her blessing. Not only that, she said that the whisperers had been taken care of, which meant Michonne had no reason to think they were in immediate danger. Didn't Michonne also say something like "be good for Uncle Daryl" or something like that? I can't remember, but the point is, she had people she could trust to watch her kids while she was gone.

Speaking of Daryl, when at any point in the series has he ever implied he wanted to be a dad/caregiver? Give me one example. As far as I know, one doesn't exist. Yes, he feels like it's his duty to look after his brother's kids, yes he loves those kids wholeheartedly, but fatherhood and domesticity are not things Daryl Dixon wants for himself. This is what we've been seeing play out for his character since S10, a journey to self-discovery that will ultimately lead him to peace, freedom, and happiness in the form of being out on the open road with Carol. You're absolutely right that Daryl wouldn't just leave the kids high and dry. That would be very OOC indeed, but that's not what's happening, hence his conversation with Judith in 10x15, where it's emphasized she has tons of family. But more importantly, though it remains to be seen, I suspect that Judith is going to give Daryl (and Carol) her blessing to eliminate any guilt just like she did for Michonne. Judith and every other character for that matter know that Daryl and Carol have done everything in their power to make other people happy, and it's about damn time they start to think about their own happiness.

The kids aren't going to die because they're just not. I mean, I could go into a long explanation, but I feel like I've made this long enough so I won't.

#caryl #caryl spinoff #caryl positivity #twd #twd season 11 #twd speculation

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characteroulette · 4 years ago

Text

okay okay okay okay

now that I’ve finished DGS1 and can think of nothing else, let me elabourate on what I’ve been ranting about to Verse and my sister (thanks for putting up with me hahaha)

(spoilers for all of DGS1 by the by we going HARD)

So the overarching theme of DGS1 is Trust. How it’s built up, who deserves it, how to extend your hand to those who may not deserve it, and how to build it back up when it’s been broken. Each case builds on this as Ryuunosuke goes on his journey and I think it’s handled really, really well

Case 1, Asougi teaches you the basics of Trust. He tells you that he will trust you and follow you until the end. Twice, right at the beginning of the trial, he tells you that your actions are betraying his trust, even though Ryuunosuke thinks he’s doing it to spare his friend the pain.

(like, seriously, Asougi pretty much says “How sad. You don’t trust that I actually believe in you.” and then “You would throw that trust right back in my face by just accepting a Guilty verdict, huh?” it’s really explicit) (which is probs the only reason why I noticed it hahaha)

But as the trial goes on, Asougi’s unwavering belief in Ryuunosuke helps our protag boy believe in himself. And he trusts Asougi easily due to their close friendship, but you see the shift from “there’s no way I’m gonna be able to prove my innocence” to “I can’t do anything except prove my innocence” as the trial goes on, just because Asougi never stops believing in Ryuunosuke.

And then Case 2 hits and you have to learn to trust others who might seem like enemies at first. This chapter’s mostly for Susato’s growth, because she starts off absolutely not trusting you, but as you hang out and investigate together she just naturally slots into your little sister role and, before she even realises it, she’s trusting Ryuunosuke and working hard to help him prove his innocence. She admits in the end that she should never have doubted you, but you can tell this experience made a deep impression on her, as her trust in Ryuunosuke never wavers and I think that’s beautiful. ;w;

Next is Hosonaga! An odd addition, but he places his trust in Ryuunosuke pretty immediately and easily, showing just how much of an impact Asougi and Ryuunosuke’s relationship made on him during Case 1. The fact that he places any trust in Ryuunosuke at all is enough to bolster Ryuunosuke’s resolve, since Ryuunosuke needed to not be so alone while grieving for his best friend’s death on top of having to prove his innocence. (The whole of DGS1 handles grief really well, I think also, but that’s another essay I’ll have to write.)

And then the disaster man himself, Sherlock. (/Herlock) He’s the reason why Ryuunosuke’s been arrested again and it’s very, very hard to trust this man. I think they did a really good job of making his personality abrasive enough to be just exasperating enough that you can’t take him seriously, but also for you to feel fondness towards his dumb ass. (The perfect AA balance, honestly.) Sherlock is a hard nut to crack, appearing as if he never truly suspected you of any wrongdoing to begin with (it’s his whimsical nature that does it), but you really get a sense of how easily he builds up a rapport with Ryuunosuke from their first whole conversation.

Once you engage in your first Dance of Deduction with Sherlock, that’s it. You’re his friend now. And he basically is just treating you as such from then on, no hesitations on letting you out of your shackles and mischievously putting you right back in them once you’ve finished. Sherlock has seen your character and trusts you, even if he won’t say so outright.

(That one line really hits me, where he basically admits that he was treating this as a game and not fully realising how deeply the whole event has hit Ryuunosuke and Susato. Asougi was their friend, and his admitting that all of his mischief and jokes weren’t ever quite appropriate, given the circumstances, is touching and the actual moment, I think, where Ryuunosuke starts placing his trust in Sherlock in return.)

Case 3 is the big one. Ryuunosuke is sent to defend a man whom he’s not even sure is innocent. The trial goes along and you, the player, can do nothing even if you know what’s really happening. All you can do is trust that Ryuunosuke can handle things and it’s a huge, HUGE step for them to take to have your client mislead you like this. And so successfully!

But the damage is done and Ryuunosuke’s trust in his resolve, his friend’s belief, is broken. Not shattered, thankfully, but broken enough to make Ryuunosuke hesitant to place his trust in anyone again.

Unfortunately, Case 4 comes barrelling out the gate and you’re called upon to place your trust in someone yet again. Ryuunosuke is clearly not ready for it, his narration makes it clear, but you as the player ask Ryuunosuke to trust in you. He goes along and investigates despite being unsure, which as Susato points out (I think it was Susato), he’d made his mind up long before actually taking on the case.

This is also! Where we get to see that, despite all the airs and pretences Barok van Zieks puts on, he’s willing to place more trust in Ryuunosuke than he rightly should. Once Ryuunosuke has the truth in his sights, Van Zieks allows him to continue on his fancies. Van Zieks willingly engages him in discussions and helps iron out all the logic along the way. And though Ryuunosuke doesn’t realise it fully himself, he also starts to trust Van Zieks in return, thinking of him not as an opponent so much as a colleague. Maybe even a friend.

(All I can say is that it’s 1-3 Edgeworth all over again and I LIVE for this shit owo)

Since the truth is secured, along with your client’s innocence, Ryuunosuke’s willingness to trust has been mended somewhat. So we next turn to our client of Case 5, who needs to learn the same lesson after similar events have broken her ability to trust. Gina makes for an interesting parallel to Ryuunosuke in this regard, since they experience a whole slew of terrible events that test their ability to trust. The difference is simply that Ryuunosuke was willing to have friends, to keep trusting others, whereas Gina refused to have friends or place any trust in others even though she desperately wanted to.

That conversation she, Susato, and Ryuunosuke have about it at her cell is really good. The one they have during their night together at Sherlock’s attic is great, too! Iris admitting that she does have her own doubts and Gina, through no benefit of her own, going to confirm on Iris’ behalf because maybe this Sherlock person could be trustworthy after all. Ryuunosuke admitting that he had doubts about Asougi’s trust in him, but as the trial progressed, finding that it was an unwavering belief that Asougi placed in him and how it stopped even being a question in his mind.

Because, to place your trust in someone else, you must first trust yourself.

(shit I forgot to mention) This is a big breaking point for Susato, too! Because she loses her trust in the Law after both Case 3 and Case 4. She’s seen what the London courts will do and realises that, if others are going to play dirty, then it might be better to engage right back. But her unwavering faith in Ryuunosuke helps her realise that what she’s done is wrong and, though her faith in the legal system has taken a big hit, she knows that Ryuunosuke won’t give up the fight. Ryuunosuke will do everything he can to help his clients and she believes in him whole-heartedly.

And Van Zieks sees this, too! He sees this fierce dragon before him, fighting even the government of Britain to protect his client, and thinks to himself, “This is exactly what our system has been needing.” And he joins in the fight! The police hold no authority in the courts; to Van Zieks, it is just him and Ryuunosuke, figuring out the whole truth, no matter how painful it may be.

And Ryuunosuke takes this trust with him all the way through, even getting his permission to participate in trials revoked in order to save Gina.

And that’s why Ryuunosuke is probably the greatest lawyer next to Apollo in the whole series thanks for coming to my essay talk

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silvysartfulness · 3 years ago

Note

If you're in the mood to talk a bit about the roadtrip boys: What is each of their preferred love language, give & receive?

I'm always in the mood to talk about the Roadtrip boys! I just don't always have the spoons. 😅

But yes, this is a super interesting question, because they do misinterpret their sometimes incompatible love language signals a lot!

Starting with Xiao Xingchen, because he is arguably the one of them most expressive in love and appreciation: he is an affectionate person at heart, and for the most part, he's intuitive about picking up on how best to convey that affection to someone else (except when he's really, really not. He's still human. He fucks up at times, too.)

What he needs more than anything is assurance and a feeling of closeness and connection. While words of affirmation can be a relief sometimes, to really remove all doubt, they can also feel clumsy at times. But he loves to spend quality time with the people he loves – giving them all his attention and just enjoying their company. With Song Lan, it was philosophical discussions, martial training, planning their future together. With Chengmei, it was joking and laughing together, being entertained by his quick wit and sense of humour, as well as going on Night Hunts together, and just spending quality time as a family in the Coffin House. Many times during the Roadtrip journey he's reflected on how happy it makes him just being in their company, them all doing things together.

He also really wants/needs physical touch. Theirs is not a culture where intimate, physical touch is all that common, especially not during his rather ascetic upbringing, but that was one of the things Chengmei really brought to the surface in him – how wonderful it is to be touched, held, brought so close to another human being. The intimacy of it, the sense of safety and connection.

He knows Song Lan dislikes touch, and he is very conscious about not pushing him to do anything he doesn't want to – but when it's given, he's so giddy with joy, he doesn't stop and wonder if it really is what Song Lan wants, or if it's something he feels he should/must do.

When it comes to giving, he's intuitive, and tries to adjust to his loved ones' needs. Giving pieces of candy to Xue Yang. Withholding touch with Song Lan - an expression of love in its absence - and using words to try and tell him how much he means to him instead. Giving his care and concern and attention, and helping in various ways when he can. The wish to help others is very deeply rooted in him, the reason he descended into the world in the first place, so definitely giving acts of service, whenever he can.

Xue Yang next – who in many ways is surprisingly compatible with Xiao Xingchen, proven most simply by how easily they grew close in Yi City.

Xue Yang is very, very bad at words. He can't identify his own emotions most of the time, and would be even harder pressed putting them into words. But he does know how be to be useful – within a few days of arriving in Yi City, he's collecting firewood, fixing the roof, offering to help on Night Hunts (yes, I know, but for the sake of argument, we'll ignore the ”fierce corpses” for now) haggling for food, going grocery shopping... For ultimate hurt, also consider: making a-Qing apple bunnies when she's upset and crying, offering to teach her how to avenge herself, offering to lend money and come with her and Xiao Xingchen to the market to help pick out pretty things for her... Xue Yang is all about tangible gestures. Gifts, favours - a concrete tally of keeping score.

He's a gifts and acts of service person all the way.

And like Xiao Xingchen, he's very tactile. He craves physical touch, both giving and receiving, especially with someone like Xiao Xingchen, whom he does grow to trust won't hurt him, even when he allows himself to be vulnerable.

He may not be very good at giving quality time – he doesn't often have the patience or empathy for it, giving someone his full attention for long, but he does love it when Xiao Xingchen does it for him. Just spending time with him, laughing, having fun... It's nice. It's possibly the thing he misses the most, wanting hopelessly to get to have again. Just that attention and easy connection. Feeling like he belongs. More than anything, that.

In Roadtrip, he keeps using gifts and acts of service to express both his affection and his desperate hunger to belong – inventing and creating the speech talisman for Song Lan. Sharing that precious apple with Xiao Xingchen. Making Song Lan the mala, even spending time and effort on clumsily decorating it. He tried to cook Xiao Xingchen spring rolls to make up for making him upset, offered him fruit so he wouldn't go hungry, tried to give him nostalgic herbs found by the wayside... He got them all a new teapot, the fanciest one he could find. Adjusting and rearranging Song Lan's souls to give him back his autonomy, making him the little paper frog as a spur of the moment gift, sharing his candy, and promising to try and find a way to give him back his sense of taste. And of course burning himself out almost to the point of qi deviation twice to save Xiao Xingchen.

Xue Yang loves intensely, but unless you can decipher the often roundabout ways he expresses it, you may not realize.

Song Lan is, however (much to his own horror) getting increasingly good at understanding Xue Yang's gestures of affection. What they actually mean – how much it actually means. Unlike Xiao Xingchen, Xue Yang is not intuitive about adjusting his expressions of affection to the recipient, and Song Lan has spent a lot of time frustrated with his uninvited casual touches and unasked for gifts. Beginning to realize they are in fact genuine attempts at companionship makes it all... worse, in many ways. Especially since he's not as immune as he'd like to be.

Song Lan himself prefers to find companionship through quality time. He deeply appreciates just meditating alongside Xiao Xingchen, just occupying that same space in peace. That is probably, on the whole, the love language he really prefers, especially receiving.

Words of affirmation, absolutely, at times, though he can get tied up and feel that he can't really express all he wants to say in return. He really doesn't want physical touch – although he has come to appreciate some platonic hand-holding with Xiao Xingchen at times. He has little interest in material gifts, which is one reason it took him so long to pick up on Xue Yang using gifts as one of his primary ways to show affection. He can appreciate acts of service, though it often leaves him feeling a bit indebted.

As for giving, he, like Xue Yang and to an extent Xiao Xingchen, is very much an acts of service person. That's what his and Xiao Xingchen's original dream was built upon, after all, as wandering cultivators - helping people. Unfortunately, with him and Xiao Xingchen, it translates to a certain degree of miscommunication where he reads Xiao Xingchen's need for physical touch as something he should provide as an act of service, and... It's not particularly healthy for anyone involved. It's a work in progress.

He's also glad to give quality time, especially with Xiao Xingchen - though in the case of Xue Yang, it tends to end up pretty awkward. But it was during their time watching over the comatose Xiao Xingchen together in Muaishan that they really began opening up and seeing each other as people. It was nice, even if neither of them can really articulate it, or admit that they would actually miss the odd companionship they shared during that time.

In time... he will learn that gifts is one of the things that really matters to Xue Yang in a way that words don't really do, and learns to both give and accept them with more grace.

Thank you so much for your question! It was a really interesting one!

#untamed artfulness #the happy songxuexiao roadtrip story #asksilvy #long post

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abiggaynerd · 4 years ago

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What made me ship maxwil. Sorry this is really just a jumbled mess JKNKJN but hope u enjoy reading it anyway. Under a cut because its too fucking long

Wilson and Maxwell are don’t starve’s main characters. They show up in the original game’s intro movie together.

Maxwell speaks to Wilson on the radio, offers him a deal, and Wilson takes it.

Now, think about that- Wilson, with no hesitation, takes a stranger’s dubious offer from a radio that is NOT supposed to be two-ways. He ruins his life without even thinking about it.

This shows us how DESPERATE Wilson is for human contact.

Wilson lives alone in a house, far away from his family who hates him, and not a single friend. Some might say Wilson doesn’t like people. But what i see is a person who ADORES people, being forced to be apart from them (exactly like maxwell) because no one will take him seriously. Wilson is working this hard because he is convinced if he just makes one good invention, has one big break, then people will finally respect and like him. It’s not just that he wants knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

He has someone offering him exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the offer, it’s the fact someone is talking to him. Wilson wants someone to listen to him, and believe in him, and that is JUST as important as the knowledge, if not more so. Maxwell has complete faith in Wilson’s ability to make this portal. Wilson trusts maxwell more than anyone else, simply because he’s gotten the smallest bit of positive attention.

That makes his betrayal absolutely crushing for Wilson. Wilson is the only person who explicitly says he hates maxwell in the first game. He feels betrayed much more personally than maxwell intended, he’s furious, and he finds out maxwell didn’t actually believe in him the way he thought. Wilson is forced once again to completely rely on himself. Wilson likes himself and believes in himself a lot, but he sort of has to. No one else will. And that’s a hard thing to deal with.

Wilson goes through the worlds, because he wants out, obviously. He is the only one to canonly reach the end of adventure mode. Wickerbottom may think he’s an idiot, but he’s the one who made it to the end of the line, not her.

Wilson is likely expecting a boss fight here, or something, but what he gets is a sad, frail old man who is suicidal and has nothing. Maxwell has completely given up. When you free max, it says “take pity?” Wilson does. Wilson KNOWS this will end badly for him. Wilson KNOWS he’s not going to get anything in return. But Wilson frees him, because Wilson is unequivocally GOOD. Wilson cares about people, deeply, and would do anything for them. Wilson does not like to see people suffer, and Wilson will take on the pain for himself if he can. Maxwell has hurt him more than anyone, but Wilson still takes his place.

Now if we look at this from Maxwell’s perspective: Wilson is just another person to trick into coming here. Maxwell is putting on a show, using all his charisma, doing what They brought him here for. It’s the same as everyone else.

Something interesting about adventure mode is that maxwell does NOT want you to continue. He does his absolute best to keep you from getting to the end. Scaring you, killing you, bribing you. You think it’s cruelty or fear of you at first glance, but really: maxwell does NOT want you to suffer the way he does.

Maxwell brings you here, puts you in a terrible world, but in his mind, NOTHING is worse than the throne. Look at him on the throne and look at him as a survivor- on the throne he has nothing but despair and the desire to die. As a survivor, he’s extremely peppy in comparison. The throne has ruined maxwell, and even though he’s past the point of caring if you come to the constant, he does NOT want to be the reason someone else is on the throne.

But is the door itself a cry for help? Was that a subconscious thing maxwell did? Charlie doesn’t have an adventure mode. She seems quite happy on the throne. Or is it because the Them are tired of maxwell? Compare Charlie’s world to Maxwell’s: considerably harder. Charlie’s world may allow you to revive yourself, but Maxwell’s is objectively easier. Less bosses, less danger, more resources. Maxwell also tries to give you a world you can have everything you need in in adventure mode, which is THE BEST he can do for you- something probably only allowed because the Them know the survivors won’t take his offer.

When you get to the throne, despite being in absolute mental agony, maxwell cannot make himself trick you into freeing him. Which he COULD. He could pretend the key will let you out, he could pretend it’s something he REALLLY doesn’t want you to do because oooooo its gonna free youuuu and send you to earthhhh. But he cannot allow himself to do that, because this is the last bit of kindness and humanity he has- giving you the knowledge that the throne is the worst fate possible here. He clearly doesn’t think you are going to do it until you do- he’s shocked and thrilled when he stands up.

Wilson frees him, knowing everything, after everything, and that SHOCKS him. Maxwell considers Wilson his savior. He owes everything to him.

They don’t see each other again until cyclum. Wilson attacks maxwell, and while some people may think it’s because he’s angry, i think it’s because he SAW maxwell die and assume it’s either an insanity hallucination come to kill him or a new monster come to trick him. When max doesn’t attack when Wilson stops, he stops.

Now, there are a lot of things Wilson could do. He could leave, he could kill him, he could ignore him. But Wilson feeds him. Maxwell is TOTALLY FINE. Max can get food himself. And food is a valuable resource. Wilson chooses to feed maxwell, because Wilson is good. They camp together, another thing Wilson doesn’t have to do. Wilson then decides to WORK WITH MAXWELL ON A PORTAL. AGAIN. Wilson makes the ACTIVE CHOICE to trust maxwell, with NO REASON TO.

Now, we don’t know exactly what happens when the other survivors get there, but it stands to reason Wilson protects and defends max against the other survivors. Even though the portal failed AGAIN, and its possible max was fucking with him AGAIN. Wilson CHOSES to trust Max, even with evidence that could imply otherwise.

If we look at the quotes, Wilson banters with max a lot, and can be annoyed with him. But when max is dead, Wilson explicitly reassures him he’s already working on reviving him.

Maxwell, like Wilson, thrives on attention. He needs it, even if its negative. It’s easier for him to be someone to hate than just a sad man to pity. His persona- where he misses the throne and being king, is a lazy asshole, and hates everyone- is just that, a persona. Max is an actor, after all. He and wigfrid have this in common: he cannot handle being HIMSELF because being himself is terrifying. He doesn’t have anything as himself. He’s nothing as himself. I don’t think mentally he would be able to handle it! And Wilson knows this.

Maxwell also, when Wilson dies, asks if he really wants to come back. I think this is the only way he can think of to try to make up for bringing him here. It’s not much, but Wilson wouldn’t feel pain any more. Of course Wilson wouldn’t accept that, but maxwell offers because it’s the only thing he can think of.

Wilson is someone maxwell is nervous and shy around, when greeting. He’s the only one max shows explicit affection for. Like i said before, max sees Wilson as an angel, as his savior, but maxwell cannot handle it. It’s easier for him to be a huge asshole. But Wilson does not let him drive him away.

I think the banter is something Wilson enjoys! Wilson is a sarcastic person, and he and max are intellectually equals. I think max is someone he really enjoys spending time with, as well as someone he would do anything for.

Now if we look at one of the more recent videos, with charlie, Winona, Wilson, and Max, maxwell sees charlie for the first time in a long, long time. He is frozen, but when Wilson calls him, he immediately follows him out. This shows me he puts Wilson on the same level as CHARLIE now, if not HIGHER.

But something else that isn’t technically canon that made me ship it is this: when i played adventure mode for the first time, i got all the way to the end cutscene and died during it. I didn’t unlock max so i had to do it again.

I restarted, and it made me think of Wilson KNOWING adventure mode was not a way out. KNOWING the end was not going to go well for him. But going through all five worlds, AGAIN, JUST to free maxwell. And that really got me to love the ship jknkjn

In conclusion maxwell and Wilson have an absolutely beautiful relationship, and it’s good.

#maxwil #long post #ds #bluh bluh

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lochnessies · 4 years ago

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ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad).

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace.

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system.

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society.

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious.

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic.

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place.

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

#i finished this at 1am so sorry if i’m incoherent #mine

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citydreamgrls · 4 years ago

Text

a simple favour - part two

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 4,785

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part three here

“You did WHAT!” Ron was the first to respond to Fred’s confession. The rest weren’t far behind. Harry burst into a fit of nervous giggles, unable to truly contemplate it all George just switched up his facial expressions from confused to shocked to horrified over and over again. Hermione’s reaction was similar to Ron’s, as she threw herself into a flurry of telling Fred how mental he was, and asking him questions without waiting for answers.

All the while I sat in disbelief, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. I held my head upright, just a blank expression stuck on my face as I watched the wall, hoping that something would come to mind.

“YOU’RE FUCKING MENTAL FRED!’

“HAS SHE NOT GONE THROUGH ENOUGH?”

“GOD SHE’S ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, THIS IS DISGUSTING.”

“Poor girl, you should be ashamed Fred.”

“And to think I ever looked up to you.”Ron huffed, setting Hermione off again.

“IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF A SICK JOKE?” She screeched, stopping everyone in their spiralling tracks, even making me look over to see what the twin would say.

“It- it just slipped out okay, but wait-” He stopped his brother from ripping his head off, “I think it might have done something.”

“Does he believe you?” I asked into the following silence, making him look at me with more of an apology than he had ever spoken aloud. “I can’t say for sure.. But he was definitely bothered by it.”

“And what if this is all he needs to get back at her, just a reason to hurt y/n?” Hermione asked.

Fred’s face dropped and he sighed with genuine regret, if what he was saying was true then it could go either way. Mclaggen could either get bored of seeing me with someone else and move on, or he could come after fuelled with jealousy.

“I’m sorry,” He finally spoke, looking over to me and keeping his eyes on mine as he carried on,“I know it isn’t ideal, but it could at least mean he isn’t as interested.”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” My best friend replied, tying her hair up and sitting down in defeat.

“I suppose we better make him believe then.” I nodded, the words feeling heavy and wrong as they came from my throat. Nothing felt right about this, I felt bad for Fred having to lie for me and act as if he loved me just because some guy was being a creep.

Fred smiled weakly, he must have sensed my nerves. Or maybe I just wasn’t as good at hiding what I felt as I’d always presumed I was. Either way, he knew something about where my head was at. He was also right. This situation wasn’t ideal, but equally it was the only idea any of us had come up with that seemed to actually work in some way. Fred wasn’t malicious, he would only ever do this to help.

Now we just needed to pull it off properly.

None of us talked over it for long, no one really wanted to go into much detail of how soppy Fred and I needed to act around one another. No one less than Ron, who had a permanent scowl aimed at his brother as we discussed the plan. It all came down to what people outside of mine and Hermione’s room thought. It wasn’t just Cormac who we would be lying to, but everyone else in the school. If just one person caught wind that this was a set up, then it would be a wasted effort and I’d be stuck with a stalker for the rest of my time at Hogwarts.

“What about Ginny?” Harry asked, “Do we tell her?”

“She needs to believe it like everyone else,” Fred said. “If she thinks we’re together, then she’ll tell mum and dad straight away. Saves them hearing from anyone else, that would be more suspicious.”

“We can still tell her the truth,” Ron was still angry, finding every reason to disagree with people. “Even if she knows she can tell mum and dad.”

“She’s still young Ron, we can’t trust that she won’t let slip.” He argued back.

“She’s family you git, it isn’t fair to lie to her too!”

“Fred’s right.” Hermione put a hand on Ron’s, all of us nodding in agreement. “All of this stays between us, that’s all. We can trust one another, and that’s it. No one else.”

Ron reluctantly gave in, not quite agreeing, but nevertheless refraining from arguing the point any further. It all seemed quite futile to him, and something deep down made him wonder what his brother was up to. George coaxed everyone out, leaving Hermione and I to talk things over once again.

“One of us can watch the tower from the common room, that way he can’t get to you.” He explained once the boys were going down the stairs. I thanked him as he smiled and left, always the one to keep smiling despite the circumstances.

My best friend hugged me once again, refusing to let go as we tried to chat about anything other than Fred, which lasted about 2 minutes.

“What was he thinking?” She scoffed and I shrugged.

“It’s our only chance Mione,”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill him.” My face was blank, probably pale and sickly. I felt sickly so it seemed right that I look the part.

“Who? Fred or Mclaggen?”

“Both,” I laughed, the tiniest glimmer of happiness stabbing its way through the dark. My friend’s wrapped round me more, unwilling to let go until she absolutely had to, her hands squeezed my sides comfortably. “Thank you, for stopping Mclaggen last night… and for looking after me so much.”

“I know you would do the same,” She smiled, stroking my hair with one hand.

“Were you scared too?” I asked, breathing deeply as I tried to repress that feeling I’d had seeing him standing in the middle of the room only a few steps away from my bed.

“A little bit,”

“You’re braver than me… what do you think he would hav-”

“Don’t think about it y/n, it’s over. Just focus on you and Fred.”

I sat up, her arms slipping away as I did so. She mimicked me, crossing her legs as I did mine and watched my mind whir as I thought about Fred over and over.

“There must have been other things he could’ve said.” I sighed, Hermione nodding.

“Probably..”

“Hell, he could’ve beaten him to the ground.” “So why didn’t he?” The girl asked, no answer coming to my mind but plenty inside hers. “I just think there’s a reason he lied to Mclaggen.”

“He said it slipped out,”

“Oh I believe that, but it’s what that means that’s confusing me.” She admitted, I frowned at her, not quite following.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” She sat up onto her knees, looking me right in the eyes to make sure I understood what she was thinking. “For Fred, the guy who couldn't care less about girls, to suddenly pretend he has a girlfriend seems strange. But when he said it just slipped out to Cormac, I think he was thinking of you more than himself.”

She was right about Fred not being bothered with girls, he’d seen George mess around with enough of them that the aspect of a relationship probably seemed useless to him.

“Yeah I understand that, he was confronting him about me.”

“But… he could’ve said anything else. Why did Fred, think about you and his head immediately go to girlfriend?” She leant back now, satisfied with her theory. I hummed.

“Maybe you’re over-analysing it a bit?” Hermione did tend to after all.

“I have a gut feeling about this one.”

Harry came to check on me halfway through the day, telling us that Ron had been sulking all day despite Fred's attempts to apologise. Hermione went to spend some time in the library as I continued to hide away in our dorm, refusing to come out until dinner. Tomorrow would be a different day, I’d have classes all over again but luckily none with Mclaggen because he was in the year above. However, it meant I’d be matched with people asking questions, whether they knew about the night’s events or not. I now had a fake relationship to speak for, not to mention I needed to be somewhat happy about it too in order for things to go smoothly.

“Hi.” Fred said quietly, making Harry look up from his magazine. He got the idea and left us to it, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll see you at dinner y/n.” He smiled sweetly, each step echoing down the stairs. The twin shuffled over to sit on Hermione’s bed to face me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, avoiding my empty eyes.

“Fine,” I smiled weakly, doing my best to lie. I didn’t want him to think I was nervous.

“I cannot apologise enough,” He started, hands moving slightly as if he wanted to reach out for mine. But they went back to his lap, fingers tightly crossed over one another, I watched him clench them until his knuckles went white.

I felt like a toddler that needed watching all the time, like he wasn’t sure what to do with me or how to talk.

“Fred don’t, just- it’s fine.” I stood up and walked across the room, desperately trying to find something to busy myself with. I folded some clean clothes, his eyes on my shaky form.

“You’re nervous?” He tried again, his voice scratching the air. I nodded, not daring to turn around and face him. I felt pathetic alone in his presence, vulnerable to his gaze as I clutched a jumper Ron had given me one Christmas between my fingers.

My thoughts were scrambled but they refused to come out to Fred. So we were alone in the silence.

“Everyone’s angry, aren’t they?” I said, at first to himself, but when I peered over he was waiting for me to tell him otherwise.

“I am grateful Fred,I know you were just looking out for me.” He smiled, having been given the reassurance he’d wanted.

“We all are.”

I swallowed once, feeling the spit slide down my throat with a disgusting taste. He meant that as a humbling comment, to show that everyone else cared as much as he did, but why was I disappointed. Had I really been holding out hope that he wanted this?

“Do you need any time before we go?” I nodded, suddenly realising how much of a state I must have been in from the night before.

“I should probably shower,” The words came out meekly, like I was too scared to speak any louder.

“Okay, you can use our bathroom.”

Hermione and I didn’t have a bathroom big enough for a shower in our dorm, subjected to walking halfway across the castle each morning before breakfast. Yet Fred and George had been lucky enough to bag a room with a bigger bathroom, giving them an annoyingly better deal than us.

He checked that the common room was empty before letting me walk through it to get to his dorm. I had never been inside, the twins rarely using their room for anything besides sleeping and washing. They did share it with another boy, Lee Jordan, but as Fred explained he was never really around either.

I showered quickly, enough time to enjoy the privacy of the warm water as I shivered beneath it. Fred was waiting outside, that I could tell from his light footsteps as he paced the room.

“Ready?” The boy stopped walking when I came out, fresh clothes on and my others in a small bundle in my arms. “I’ll put those in with my laundry if you want?” I smiled and dumped it in his little washing basket, taking a deep breath.

He gave me a sudden hug, making me jump slightly. Fred wasn’t one for complex emotions, generally sticking to the safety net that was happiness and anger. I certainly hadn’t seen him hug a single person before without being coerced. Maybe he saw me as such a basket case, that he didn't even know how to react.

“I’m fine Fred.” I laughed awkwardly, patting his back and letting him pull away. For a second I thought he hadn’t heard me, because he didn’t move away, but then he coughed himself back to normal and turned to leave. Me following behind, more confused than ever.

The noise of voices in the great hall boomed louder than ever before, even from down the hall. Fred had started holding my hand the second we’d left the common room, chatting casually to me as we walked through the castle, people giving us looks as we passed them. I too wouldn’t have understood his change in demeanor, he had never been overly affectionate to anyone. Yet here he was, acting as if I was the only person in this whole school. We didn’t stop to discuss anything, or reassure one another, before walking into the hall. I feared that if we had done so, then that slight slither of courage I had would’ve melted away quicker than wax.

Fred’s smile was so natural as I peered up to him, already looking over at George on the Gryffindor table. They were all at our usual spot, watching expectantly as I did my best to ignore the many turned heads and hushed murmurs of surprise. My eyes were fixated on Hermione, who seemed to express a great deal of pride. I hadn’t even noticed that we’d passed Mclaggen’s end of the table, Fred’s body blocking that side so I never even saw him.

When we sat down, I shuddered at the feeling of Fred’s arm around me, which I hope he hadn’t noticed. It was strange, having someone’s hands on me at all times, even worse when it was Fred's. I’d seen the boy fidget before, it was a normal occurrence, but to be the one on the receiving end of his restless fingers playing in my hand was weird.

It was as if he wasn’t necessarily paying attention to me, but yet he was letting me know I was still on his mind. All without a single word spoken. It was nice just to see a different side to the boy, but I needed to remember that all of this wasn’t real. None of these feelings were true to Fred.

Ron ate his food in silence, refraining from looking over at either me or his brother. I ate slowly, mostly speaking to Hermione and Harry and avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the hall, especially him. George and Fred were keeping themselves entertained, which made things much easier for me as I realised that I had no clue how to chat normally with Fred. A fact that became evident as we walked hand in hand through the halls.

Some people congratulated Fred as he took me to potions class, most just whispered about us as if they were invisible. I stayed quiet, the attention mostly on him thank god.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” I smiled as we stopped outside the classroom door “I’m sure people would still believe you.” I whispered.

“Y/n.” He frowned, like I was a naughty child.

“Sorry.” I became very aware of him flipping out. Not even one whole day, and he was already seemingly sick of pretending. The boy looked around, eyeing up a group of Ravenclaw’s hanging out at the other end of the hallway and sighed, turning back to me.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.” He took my hand again, confusing me with a gentle smile.

It became apparent that Fred was a great liar, both to me and everyone else. He said goodbye, and I did my best to produce a fake smile, not that he would be able to tell the difference.

Fred watched her leave, noticing how uncomfortable her smile had been and wanting to punch himself in the face. Why was he acting like such an idiot around her? She was so easy to be happy around, but he repressed it, not enjoying the vulnerability she instilled in him.

He couldn’t deny himself the joy that came with the smiles, or when she held his hand so small inside his own. But he couldn’t let her know that, not ever. Because, when she looked up at him, those eyes so big and innocent, he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe from all the world’s evil. That was what made him weak to her.

She wasn’t ‘his’ in any sense of the word, not a possession like Cormac had described, but god why did he like showing her off to all the boys in her year. The same dirty guys that had confessed the things they wanted to do to her in the dark during a game of truth or dare. Thinking back on it made him mad, physically furious, he wanted to go back and kick them all in the mouths for ever defiling her that way.

It was wrong. Fred felt as though he was benefiting from something y/n had been so traumatised over, like he was her protector from Mclaggen and now she owed him the satisfaction of acting as his girlfriend. He had the nerve to revel in every fucking second of it too.

Fred felt as bad as her stalker. He felt as vulnerable to her as Cormac was, begging for her over and over until it drove him mad. He saw how easily love had turned his father obedient to his mother, and he’d watched Ron stumble over words whenever Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. Fred wasn’t like them, he didn’t need a relationship to belittle him as he’d watched it do to others. He needed to control himself, but it was so hard when he held her and felt what it was like to be under that trance.

She was most likely only being polite with him because he was just that little bit better than someone who broke into her dorm to do god knows what. He wished that she hated him, that she would scream and yell and tell him what a dick he was for making her do this. At least in that case, it would be easier to forget all that he wanted from her. It made him angry that she was so encaptivating, so furious that he felt the need to push her away.

That rage had gotten everyone into this mess to begin with, that anger had made him notice those desperate feelings for y/n that shouldn’t exist. Fred vowed to himself in that moment, he would do everything in his power to rid any attraction to the girl he merely owed a favour to.

Days went by, Fred and I agreeing that kissing one another on the cheek was far enough for people to still believe while not making things awkward between us. The boy, however, was becoming increasingly distant over the next few days. He seemed so calm and collected when we were around others, but the second we were alone he shut down.

His hands would drop mine as if I was the plague, no words exchanged. It hurt, knowing that it truly was all an act, contrary to Hermione’s theory. But nothing else had been hinted at from the start, he himself told all of us how much of a mistake it was. Now I had no choice but to believe him when he said that.

Each time he went silent, or grunted to me instead of talking, I was reminded of how many times he apologised. How quickly he regretted his actions, the second he’d told all of us that morning in my dorm. He never did it for me, I was just naive enough to think differently. Maybe it hurt because he was so convincing, he held me proudly and smiled as if I was the only person in the room. But I too was just someone else being fooled by a very good actor.

The only upside to it all was that Mcglaggen seemed to back off a bit, keeping the creepiness down to just stares across the great hall. It put me at ease again, knowing that I wouldn’t have to worry about walking into a room of flowers and gifts from someone I despised. At this point, he had to be yet another believer of mine and Fred’s fake relationship, thank god.

“I think he hates me,” I said into the darkness one night, unable to sleep and hoping my best friend would be the same.

“Who does?” She grumbled, drowsiness in her voice but not in her body.

“Fred.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You must’ve seen it too, he just ignores everything I say. Like he can’t even stand to be around me.” I huffed.

“Maybe he feels bad for you, he kind of forced it upon you.”

“It doesn't feel like pity… more like disgust.”

Hermione fell silent, searching her mind for a good response.

“Maybe there’s something else on his mind?” She explained.

“Maybe,” I rolled over and looked at the room from my bed, sighing and closing my eyes in another futile attempt to sleep.

I soon realised it was so incredibly stupid of me to ever think that Cormac would have backed off when I snuck off to the black lake one evening to have some time to myself. All I’d done for weeks on end was in the company of others, and it had started to suffocate me slightly. Hermione hadn’t mentioned our conversation about Fred, and his attitudes had only worsened over time, so I just decided to keep it all to myself. I’d snuck off while everyone was busy and walked to the water’s edge, watching the sunset.

It was peaceful, and refreshing to be alone. Finally, I could enjoy my own thoughts without someone interrupting them or the need to fill the silence between Fred and I. He had barely spoken to me all day, only putting on a smile at breakfast before going off to quidditch. Then he disappeared, not even turning up to dinner later on, which seemed to make some people talk as I prodded the food around my plate.

My mood’s were at an all time low, Fred’s constant rejection only pushing them deeper. I’d never needed his approval before, so why was I longing for it now? I hated that I wanted him to come and tell me he was sorry for being off with me. In reality, he probably enjoyed the one day without me around to bother him.

“All alone y/n?” His voice made me want to cry, the once bubbling anger had been conditioned into fear every time I heard him speak. I turned around, ready to leap up and run at any moment. Cormac stood smugly, arms crossed, as if he had finally gotten what he wanted. He had. Now I was all on my own, as he’d asked me already, and he could do whatever he’d wanted to since he’d laid eyes on me.

“What do you want?” I forced the words out shakily, only making him smile more.

He stepped forward and I scrambled to my feet clumsily, stepping back as he came closer.

“I want you to myself y/n, you’re wasting your time with Weasley.” I cringed at his words, if only he knew. I moved around him, trying to leave. But he would never give up that easy, he followed me up the hill with ease.

“Stop it.” I begged.

“We’re meant to be together y/n,” He smiled, reaching for my hand but I just sped up. Making him jog after me. He wasn’t quite chasing me, neither of us moving fast enough for that, but it felt like a wolf closing in on me. “You can’t deny your feelings, can you?”

I stopped, for a split second pondering over the idea that he was talking about Fred. Then he smirked, that ugly god awful, gut-wrenching smile and I remembered that when Cormac spoke it was only ever in his own interest. So I kept walking, finally reaching the bridge to the courtyard.

“I’d love you so much more than he could y/n,” I didn’t dare respond, the tears pricking at my eyes. “He barely pays attention to you, I see it, there’s no spark with you two.” I hated that he was so right.

His words were impossible to ignore, even as we got into the castle with noises everywhere, Cormac’s rang out above them all. “Does Weasley ever touch you?” He asked me, that sick feeling increasing by the second.

Just the stairs to go, then I’d be inside the common room. Someone had to be there, and if not then Hermione was bound to be in the dorm. I prayed I wouldn’t be alone, I had no chance against Mclaggen if I needed to defend myself. I was fearing for the worst, his words unrelenting as he demanded to know intimate details.

“I want to be all over your body,” He whispered as I spoke the password, the painting swinging open. I’d never run inside so quickly, just to whip round to the boy following me closely. He seemed caught off guard, stumbling a little in his step.

“You’re a sick fucker, what will it take for you to understand that no one is ever gonna love you if you threaten them!” I screamed in his face, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I’m not something you can play about with, I’m a fucking person. Do everyone a favour Cormac and leave!”

I hadn’t spotted the three boys peering over at us, getting up in defense the second they saw who had followed me. Ron, Fred and George waited until I was done before coming to my side.

“There he is, your precious boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes at him and turned away again, not in any mood to deal with any of them.

“Leave her alone Mclaggen, she’s had enough of your shit.” Fred pushed the boy to the ground, towering over him with a foot pressed to his neck. He nodded, wanting to be let free and got up to rush off. I scoffed, but not at the pervert.

“I bet you’re so proud of yourself aren’t you,” I huffed, making Fred frown. He’d yet to see me mad, but it had been growing over time.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was dull, as if he couldn’t be bothered.

“You, you’re so full of yourself” I scoffed again.

Ron and George sloped off, deciding this was between the two of us alone.

“What did he say to you?” Fred tried to change the subject with a sudden gentle tone.

“Jesus why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

My face was blank with annoyance. He was so thick sometimes. He must know what he was doing, no one was that ignorant.

“You spend all day acting as if you hate me, out of nowhere, and then you do this. Play all protective and caring as if it’s normal. None of this IS NORMAL!” I was getting closer to him, trying my best to get him to understand from nearly half a foot shorter.

“I’m doing what we agreed, what’s the problem.”

“Do you hate me? Is that what it is, because tell me now and we can end this.” I laughed, wanting nothing more than to be far away from him.

“Y/n you’re mad over nothing.” He lied.

“I actually thought you could be half decent... but jokes on me eh?” I ranted, getting more and more furious by the second. I could see he was hurt, but my words were still riling him up and pissing him off. Fred took a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’s complicated y/n,” He tried his best to explain calmly, but I was too far gone.

“I get that I’m just charity work to you Fred.”

I went back out of the common room, passing Ron and George leant against a painting on my way down. They called after me, confused, as I raced down the stairs, but I didn’t dare stop. I needed to be away from them all, somewhere safe where I could hide from it all for a little while.

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toujoursmiraculous · 4 years ago

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Thoughts and Reaction to ROCKETEAR!

It's a long post, but when are these ever really short? xD Seeing Carapace first made me so excited. I've been sad we haven't had much of him in the show. And then I saw that it seemed like Ladynoir was doing pretty good as they only had Carapace helping them this time. More S2 & S3 like. So I was like cool, cool, this is great. But what the heck scientist WHY ARE YOU BRINGING TYRANNOSAURUS REX'S BACK! Obviously she's going to be something big later on, she's too nicely animated not to be back. Not to mention Bob Roth's plans. Anyone else both intrigued but also scared at what that could do later? Big upcoming plot point, I think.

I screamed awwww because this is everything. I've wanted a LB/Carapace and Marinette/Nino friendship bond in this show since season 1. This scene made me incredibly happy! I'm a huge Nino fan, for those that don't know, so you can imagine how much I love this episode. Even though sad Nino.

"Alya, everyone has to believe that you will never use the Miraculous again!" End of episode: So anyway... So what I'm seeing here is, Alya's not fond of the idea of being just a spy, not being in on the action. Even though it's Ladybug's plan. Chat Noir isn't fond of what's going on right now either, where he thinks what's going on is all Ladybug's plans. Alya makes the decision to not do what Ladybug wants and tells Nino she's still Rena Rouge. So what's Chat Noir going to do to go against her? Because that's coming up on the horizon. Despite everything being easier for Marinette since everything's not just on her shoulders now, she's still been unable to play video games with her dad, and we know how much she loves doing that. :c That's really sad she doesn't even have time for her family anymore. DJWifi over here being all adorable. "You don't love me anymore!" Me: *Chat Blanc flashbacks* Alya suggests her new content could be Chat Noir edits and Marinette's like YES DO THOSE. Then those edits helped push Nino into thinking she was into Chat. Big oops. Not gonna lie, the rewind freaked me out for a moment. Last time I saw that was Chat Blanc so I thought something big was up. But nope, it's just like that scene in Puppeteer 2. Ugh poor Nino! He knows something's bothering Alya, but she won't say what it is and her behavior's too off from how she normally is. Poor guy. x.x Grumpy Nino that Carapace doesn't get attention and then they wrote his girlfriend with Chat Noir. I remember when Alya was grumpy for a bit about Rena Rouge not getting a party to celebrate her. Movie Ladybug telling Movie Chat Noir that he's better with Movie Rena Rouge. Is this a reference to the episode in Avatar, The Ember Island Players? Getting strong vibes when Play Aang and Play Katara were like, we're just friends nothing more and it's great! Play Katara was extremely into Play Zuko. I can see why Ladybug dismissed the movie (or was it the previous one since it's been awhile? Maybe?) because Rena Rouge and Chat Noir???? The writers (of the movie) just wanted to be different because everyone can see Ladynoir, unless they're blind. Alya and Nino are Andre's favorite couple. YES THANK YOU. I mean they're not my favorite because Love Square. BUT they're my second favorite next to them. Those kids are super adorable but definitely that kid playing Chat wasn't doing Nino any favors. First picture Alya shows. Chat with a heart tail. Yeah that's not doing her any favors lol. Nino: UGH CHAT NOIR'S COMING IN BETWEEN ME AND MY GIRLFRIEND. I KNOW, I'LL CALL MY BEST FRIEND TO VENT TO ABOUT IT. Best Friend Chat Noir: Best Friend Chat Noir: Welp maybe I should see what's up. Maybe I went a little to hard on the cat charm and she's fallen in love with me. Me: Oh oof here we go. Also can I ask, if anyone knows, who animated this episode? The fluidity is great and it looks really pretty. But it doesn't quite look like SAMG's work either. Whoever did it, I love it. S2 Chat Noir: You're not replacing me with a turtle, are you? :c S4 Nino: Who would want a reckless turtle as a partner? BOYS STOP. But yeah this whole scene had me laughing so hard XD Very dramatic and I love it. Nino's hilarious even when he's worried and sad! I would've absolutely loved to have heard this in English with the old English voice of Nino, but the new one worries me on whether or not he'll do a good job sounding like Nino and less high-pitched and whiny. :/ New York Nino was great but S4 Nino....x.x THE TRANSITION BETWEEN HIS INNER MONOLOGUE AND SPEAKING REGULARLY AGAIN 😂😂😂😂 Brilliant! It doesn't really feel like Miraculous Ladybug this episode, and I love it. Not that I don't love the show as usual but wow this is great. Okay, I want to point out that Chat Noir

probably was more worried about it than he would've been otherwise because of what happened with Marinette in Weredad. It probably made him more cautious about this sort of thing.

LOL Chat's sulking because Alya's laughing at the idea of being interested in him. 😂😂 I know that's a blow to one's ego and all, and he's dealt with this kind of thing a lot so I do feel bad for him, but that is his best friend's girlfriend and he definitely doesn't want her to like him. Alya: With him it's not just ❤️it's *makes massive hand gesture indicating she loves him deeply* SO SO SO CUTE OKAY ALL THIS DJWIFI 😭 Alya: And I don't even know your secret identity! I would never fall in love with someone I don't know. Chat Noir, literally fell in love with Ladybug, whose identity he doesn't know. Well Alya, I wonder if you saying that matters for later somehow.... o.O Nino running away crying is honestly one of the things that hurts me most in the entire show. Ugh. Adrien over here being all, I'm having a good day. I'm happy and smiling and it's great. And then it wasn't. Adrien, if Nino let him and didn't interrupt, would've told him about how Alya really doesn't love Chat Noir, and that would've seriously led up to his identity being exposed since Nino was watching and filmed them. o.o Did you notice how he was going to tell him about it? S4, the basement is where it's at. Adrien: Uhh, when did you arrange all this? Nino: *pounds fist on desk* I ASK THE QUESTIONS! 😂 So like. Why is Nino interrogating Adrien when he's after Chat Noir? He doesn't know they're the same person. XD He's looking at him like Adrien has info he's keeping or something omg.

Also again this animation is so nice. Adrien, feeling uncomfortable and so turns the music off. Nino, wanting his dramatic music on while he interrogates Adrien, turns it back on. Adrien, feeling even more irritated and uncomfortable, wants the music OFF and turns it off. Nino, turns the music back on. This may be a reference to something, I don't know, but lolol it's so funny. This episode is both super hilarious and super angsty! Honestly they've done such a good job in my opinion. Nino: I'm talking about something that I shouldn't tell you! ...but I'm going to tell you anyway! Alya's Rena Rouge and I'm Carapace! Okay but the way Adrien went from shock to utter anger, knocked his chair back and grabbed Nino's shoulders like "Tell me the truth. You two know about each other?" Aw man, my poor sunshine boy. A lot of the stuff bothering Adrien is all circumstantial, none of it is to purposefully keep him in the dark. And yet from his perspective, that's how it looks. "I thought secret identities must be protected at all times! If that was the truth, you would never tell me this!" Alright so three things. If he's referring to him saying that Nino and Alya know about each other, that was situational and important info for him to know now that this is out. It wasn't important to know before this. The time it happened was dire and was really no time to get around it. If he's talking about Nino telling him the secrets, well yeah that's not supposed to happen and Nino broke that trust. But also, I get the feeling pretty strongly at this point Adrien's going to be breaking some rules too and one of which is he's going to tell Nino who he is. Adrien's being too emotional in this scene to not be involved in it all, I'm wondering if that's going to be questioned later by Nino. He's acting like he knows too much to be a random viewer of the heroes like the rest of Paris. Also Adrien's best friend just totally dissed Chat Noir and went off about how he throws himself at Ladybug whenever he sees her with roses and love confessions. 😂😂😂 This is just too funny! "But he's always rejected because Ladybug finds him annoying! And she's completely right!" Omg Nino, that's not the reason anymore, shush! "And then Rena Rouge appears and he goes *tickles under Adrien's chin* hey pretty lady! You look elegant and you have great perfume." OMG does Chat Noir actually say and do stuff like that to Rena Rouge or is he just exaggerating here XD "If I could I would shut his mouth forever!" Yeah Nino, say what you really think about your best friend in the entire world. Yikes poor Adrien though. I never imagined he'd hear all these bad things about himself from his best friend directly like that. :/ That's a major misunderstanding of him. Which kind of pushes me more towards the "he's going to tell Nino" theory. Sad Adrien transformation DDDX Alya: *explained everything about why Chat Noir went over to her house in the middle of the night* Marinette *facepalm* Ugh that Chat Noir... Well at least there will be no misunderstandings there! xD "Chat Noir, you stole Alya from me! I will steal your life from you." Good lord man calm down. You can't just kill a man! Fanon: Chat Noir gets attacked by a guy over Marinette. Canon: Chat Noir gets attacked by a guy over Alya. Time to go back to the basement! lol Nino's music's still playing xD And the video is left with it paused on Chat Noir hugging Alya. Marinette looked a bit sad, but it was probably more about the situation being a mess rather than being sad he'd hug her. Meanwhile, Chat Noir's fighting Nino and would rather get beaten up by him than fight. x.x "I can't believe that I doubted you." "I can't believe I chose to do anything but be with you!" She wiped away akumatized Nino's tear just like how Ladybug wiped away akumatized Chat Noir's. ALL THE PARALLELS 😭😭😭 But that hug is so sweet!! Nino broke off the akumatization just like Alya did :o Dang, I wonder if that means something later too. "Love and secrets do not go well together, Ladybug. And I'm sure you have a lot of

them!" Secrets = from Chat Noir. Love = for Chat Noir. Yeah even Shadow Moth knows at this point. xP Thanks for that foreshadowing. Nino's charm is my favorite charm so far! It's my favorite shade of blue. Chat Noir: Everybody has doubts sometimes...even me." Ladybug: Is everything okay, Chat Noir? Chat: Oh yes...pound it!

So um. The placemet of Adrien's poster in between Chat Noir, Ladybug, and just with this entire situation feels very strange. Very intentional. But no clue exactly what that could mean..... Nino and Alya are happy over there watching those two, like they're waiting for them to figure things out or something. But really, Adrien should've talked to Ladybug when he could still do so calmly and be reasonable. I doubt that's going to be the case later on. And honestly Ladybug doesn't even know what's going on. Every episode we've seen really either has them working together or she's unable to be Ladybug when he's unable to be Chat Noir most of the time. I've said it before but these two really need to communicate. Nino and Alya are like a less adorably romantic version of what they'd be. "But they're a couple and they know their secret identities, so why does that rule exist for us but they can know?" Very simple. Because they were temporary holders and the Miraculous they had, Hawk Moth hasn't made it his life's mission to obtain, unlike them, who are permanent holders and Hawk Moth's been after them fiercely to make a Wish that could destroy everything. But. The fact he's asking this, and Marinette's Chat Blanc nightmare, really points in the direction that he's going to eventually find out that while she's thought about telling him all along, Chat Blanc's kept her from doing so.

Okay, so while it looks like he's staring up at the moon, if you notice, it really is just one of the pink bubbles.

Now, they could be making it seem like it's the moon though to give it a double meaning. But poor Kitty, he's feeling so awful right now over in that dark corner Dx Nino felt bad for only two episodes? and it got resolved, so hopefully this all won't last too much longer for him! Marinette had a few shaky episodes so hopefully he'll have a few before it gets resolved. But somehow I think that may be wishful thinking. This episode was so amazing, honestly. Wonderful writing, made me laugh a lot, aw a lot, and hurt a lot. It focused on the core 4 characters which I've wanted more of for a long time. The animation was beautiful. And it just felt so different in such a good way. Chat Noir's having a hard time right now, and I know there's a lot of anger and hate about it going around. But please, think of this as him hitting a rough spot in the road to a much better and brighter future. He's going to end up okay, he'll understand it all someday. And that day's honestly not that far for him if you think about it.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #chat blanc #rocketear spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #toujoursmiraculous thoughts and reaction #ladybug #chat noir #carapace #rena rouge #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir

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me4ml · 4 years ago

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Why don't you like Maribat? Why do you think it's a spite or salt ship?

This is presumably because of my Adrigaminette post or the whole Maribat being on the ship list thing.

Quick disclaimer: if you read/ship/write/like Maribat, cool! This is not an attack. This is me answering why I, personally, do not like it. It’s tagged anti, and salt, so it should be filtered. Please don’t harass me over it.

Another note before we start: a lot of what I’m about to write is based on what I’ve read, fic wise or meta, and I blocked off the Maribat tag and fandom a long time ago. It may have changed over there-I doubt it, and I have zero desire to go and look-but this is based on what I’ve seen and read about.

There are, principally, three reasons I can’t stand Maribat, why I think it’s a spite/salt ship.

1). I don’t like Damian Wayne.

2). I don’t like how Damian and the DCU are written in Maribat.

3). Maribat is a mutated salt fic.

If you want to see my reasons why, the rest is under the read more.

1). I don’t like Damian Wayne.

Damian’s not just my least favorite Robin, ranking behind any of the others who have born the name. He’s my least favorite Batfam sidekick overall.

Part of this is his introduction, where he’s a violent, murderous, arrogant, entitled, snotty little brat of a thug. Lest we forget, one of his first acts is to go out, kill a guy, cut off his head, stuff a grenade into the decapitated head’s mouth, and try to blow up Tim. This is his introduction! There are a number of other occasions, including how he treats Jon, his best friend, and the rest of his siblings.

Another part is that he believes that he deserves to be Robin simply because he’s Bruce’s son, and therefore has the blood right to be Robin, to become Batman, and damn anyone else, who are all pretenders. Doesn’t matter that those characters might have a right to become Robin, or the future Batman, he’s the bio son, he deserves it!

Additionally, Damian feels.....not unnecessary, but repetitive, in his actions/characterization. There are other characters who can perform pretty much the same way for whatever storyline is necessary, without including Damian.

Trained by an abusive family to be the best, as an assassin and warrior? Cassandra.

A killer who breaks the main rule of his mentor, which causes tension and strain in the family? Jason.

Incredibly intelligent and talented? Tim.

Damian isn’t unique in what he does, and while that can make him an interesting character, it can also make the focus on him unnecessary.

As well, so much of Damian’s actions and motivations feels like he gets away with stuff, in-universe, because he’s Bruce’s biological son, and so Bruce gives him too much slack, and out-universe, because the writers let him/the fans will defend him. He gets woobified, or leather pantsed. Which leads to:

2). I don’t like how Damian and the DCU are written for Maribat.

For all his (numerous) faults, when written well, Damian can be an interesting character. For example: How does he deal with being deeply insecure? By putting on a mask of arrogance and overconfidence.

Some more examples: How does Damian act like an actual child, when he’s never had a childhood? How can he be a hero, if he’s been trained to be a killer? Can he ever catch up to his siblings, or will he feel like they’re always better than him?

Damian’s sense of being Batman’s son, of being the heir to the Cowl, slams right up against the idea of the Batfam: that there are people who have just as much of a right to call Batman their father/father figure, people who are just as talented and skilled and capable as Damian himself is, if not more. Watching Damian develop, when he’s written right, is actually enjoyable; mainly because when it’s done right, it shows Damian actually progressing and growing, becoming more of a person, with friends and interests. Most times, seeing Damian with his pets can be adorable, same with when he hangs out with Jon.

Is he still a brat? Still sometimes a bit too much of a Demon, an al-Ghul? Yes, but that’s always going to be part of him, and as long as he’s shown to try and grow, or gets called out on that, it’s less of an issue (There’s a completely different rant to be written about how DC likes to chuck character development or backstory into the trash when it suits them for a new run. Damian gets hit with this, as does Tim, or they get handed the idiot/conflict ball, but not the space for it).

Maribat hurls this all out the window. Damian’s bad traits are all “fixed” offscreen-he’s developed, matured, gotten better, whatever you want to call it. It’s basically a writer’s hand wave to make Damian into the character who will be the lead of the story, perfectly suited for his main role of being Marinette’s boyfriend and utterly devoted to her every whim and will. He’s enchanted by her at first glimpse, and defends her against everyone who hates her, because no one can understand her like he can!

Uh, what? This is not Damian Wayne. Even at his best, he’s no broody boy, pulled from his “dark path” by the love of a gentle girl. He’s a Jerk with a Heart of Gold-emphasis on the Jerk. There’s a reason his nickname usually involves “Demon.” Is Damian trying to get better? Yes. But even then, he’s not the type to immediately fall in love. He takes a while to warm up to people, for them to earn his trust, and Marinette would not be like that?

Let’s say that Robin is in Paris for a case, he runs into Ladybug and Chat, and after they explains what’s going on, Robin gives them a stare over his mask, and goes “TT! What a worthless hero, I would have caught him already.” LB and Chat would probably want to deck him, and that’s before he keeps talking.

Same with if Damian transfers to the class, or they meet on a field trip to Gotham. Damian’s not gonna care about some random French teenagers on a tour, or if he was transferred he’s gonna be trying to figure out why his father sent him to Paris, and be focused on the mission, not making friends.

Of all of the Robins, the ones that would be the most likely to capture Marinette’s interest would be Dick or Tim, not Damian. He would remind her too much of Chloe, as Damian, and as Robin, he would be dismissive of Ladybug’s abilities, which would absolutely piss her, and Chat Noir, off.

In characters that aren’t Damian, no one seems to be written properly over in Maribatland. One huge example is that Marinette is so beloved, so pure, that she can make any character fall in love with her, and reform by her pure goodness, including a fic where the Joker-THE JOKER!-becomes her “Uncle J,” and pranks Lila on her behalf.

Uh-huh. Sure. Completely and totally something that one of the biggest, most sadistic twisted, notorious villains in pop culture would do. Maribat winds up worshipping the ground that Marinette walks on, cause she’s “Teh best evar!”

Which then leads to my third and final point:

3). The whole Maribat concept is a mutated salt fic.

Most of the themes you’ll find in Maribat? You will find in nearly every salt fic.

Maybe my biggest issue with the whole Maribat idea is that it doesn’t feel like a proper crossover, which, at their best, explore how characters from one universe and their rules would interact with characters from another universe, and the rules of that one. Putting ML and DC together is a rich opportunity to play with concepts in both worlds!

And yet, it’s mainly used to bash ML characters who the writers despise, predominantly Adrien, Alya, and Lila, with members of the class thrown in depending on feeling, and potentially even Marinette’s parents! The only “good” ML characters are the ones who are on Marinette’s side, usually Luka, Kagami, a Chloe who for some reason has been redeemed and is now Marinette’s best friend, and whatever members of the class the writer decides to throw in there.

You’ll notice it’s not called “MiracuBat”, or LadyBat and Bat Noir-it’s MariBat. It’s meant as a focus on Marinette, making her-the hero of the Miraculous Ladybug franchise, someone in-story in story who is incredibly smart and talented and the leader of her team, future Guardian-even more awesome.....by beating down everyone else around her.

Marinette is simultaneously treated as an beaten-up, beaten-down walked-on carpet, and the best person to ever exist ever, go who only needs a group of new, different, better people to recognize that and save her from the clutches of those greedy and ungrateful assholes! That doesn’t include the fics where she’s the unknown child of a superhero or supervillain, making her even more special.

It’s Chameleon salt, class salt, with pointy ears and a cape on.

Some specific examples.

Adrien: Adrien is a spineless doormat who prioritizes Lila over Marinette, or an entitled bastard sexual harasser, only fixated on Ladybug, or even both. Sometimes it’ll get worse, as Adrien will threaten or abandon Marinette if she steps off of his “high road,” and Chat will be a budding rapist, stalking or capturing Marinette after he’s learned she’s Ladybug, while ignoring her prior to that. He will, of course, have his ring stripped and handed off to Damian, who is the “true” soul of Destruction and so therefore a “perfect match” to Marinette’s Creation soul. Occasionally it will be Jason, or Tim, or Dick, but the key thing is that it’s not Adrien!

While Damian’s issues are magically fixed, Adrien gets no such courtesy. Adrien has been abused, just like Damian, and while Damian’s abuse is more extensive and extreme, abuse is abuse. If anything, if Damian met Adrien, he would probably see another abused kid, and want to be his friend/have his “adopt stray person!” Instincts go off. I can much more imagine Damian dragging a bewildered Adrien into the Batcave and yelling “Father I’ve found another one for you to adopt!” than I can Damian immediately hating Adrien, or Chat, simply for breathing.

We never see Clark taking Adrien under his wing, or Bruce, or any of the other Batfam; nor any of the other Justice Leaguers. We never see Selina try to fight Bruce over the kid, because he’s cat-themed, and Selina can train him, this one’s hers Bat, get off!

Adrien’s never treated as a kid, or given actual development. A major complaint among salters is that Adrien is treated as perfect and never develops, and in fic, rather than developing him, Adrien either remains static, with his flaws narratively exploded, or is developed negatively. He’s there to be beaten up on and punished by the writers, if not actually physically beaten up by characters in the fic.

Alya: the not-so-good friend, the cheap excuse for a journalist, the awful person who abandons Marinette for Lila and her “connections.” Never mind that Alya was Marinette’s friend from the beginning, or that Marinette’s chosen her multiple times for a Miraculous. One instance of questioning Marinette about Lila, and Alya’s a backstabbing bitch.

Maribat treats Alya as neglectful, bossy, domineering and submissive at the same time to Marinette and Lila respectively, and as a journalist, the worst of the worst. She’s played as a two-bit paparazzo, and once again, the DCU is used to punish her. We don’t see Alya get mentored by Lois or Clark-indeed, if they notice her, it’s with disdain or disappointment. Often, they’re crushing her under their heel, calling her not only a bad journalist, but a bad friend/person. This forgetting, of course, that Alya runs her blog as a hobby so far, she’s only a teenager, and that she’s had Marinette’s back against Chloe and Lila.

The Class: the dupes or allies as needed. Class salt levels depend on what the writer needs. If they’re pro-class, they’re all on Marinette’s side, aside from Alya Adrien and Lila. Chloe, for some ungodly reason, is “redeemed” nigh instantaneously, and often will become Marinette’s best friend, if that isn’t Kagami already. Kagami will drop Adrien like a wet tissue, never trying to reconcile him with the clas, or encourage him to stand up for himself, or if she does, Adrien, of course, will not listen.

If the writer is anti-class, whoo boy. Openly mentally, emotionally, physically abusive to Marinette, the worst gang of people you would ever have the displeasure of meeting, they all need to be in Arkham.

We never see any of the class make friends with the Batfam, the Titans, Young Justice-unless they’re on Marinette’s side, of course. There’s no Alix stopping Selina at the Louvre, for instance, or Max hanging out with Babs. It’s all based on how Marinette is treated as to whether or not the class is portrayed as being worse than the worst of the Rogues Gallery.

Wrapping it all up, Maribat has made me dislike the entire concept of a DC/ML crossover.

Even if someone had written an non-salt, in-character crossover, I don’t know if I would read it, simply because the well has been that poisoned.

#anti maribat #anti maridami #anti daminette #maribat salt #daminette salt #maridami salt #anti damian wayne #Damian Wayne salt #ml fandom salt #anonymous #ask answered #long post

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