#the machine that everyone told you cannot experience emotions?

[springespronge]

i just watched season 3 episode 7 of the orville and i hate everything

i shed actual tears

[bogkeep]

when i was a teen, i was in love with my best friend. to this day i cannot tell you with any certainty whether or not i was in love romantically or platonically. i don't know and i don't care. it's very possible there is a difference, but i never found it. i've asked many people about it and everyone has their own definition of where that line goes, none that ever applied to my own experiences. there is no satisfying, universal and objective line. i think that's good, actually. the idea that there is some shining abstract concept that's specialer than all the other concepts that can only be achieved like nirvana by some people and not others is not a comfortable idea. this is not to say that everyone has the same feelings and experiences, absolutely not - but we categorize our experiences within the contexts we exist in. or maybe that's just word salad.

i know that - at the time, i knew i was deeply connected to this other person and kept thinking about her all the time and we talked about wanting to be close friends for our whole lives and wrote poetry together about our soulmateness and we made mutual friends feel like a third wheel. i knew i had no desire to kiss her or take her on dates, and she crushed on some boy at summer camp, but the connection between us was mutual and explicit. if the concept of a queerplatonic relationship had been available to us at the time, maybe we would've recognized it as such. i just knew that what i was feeling didn't match up at all with what i've been told 'being in love' was supposed to be like - especially because, at the time, Being In Love also included sexual attraction. we had just cracked open the 2010's and asexuality was a punchline and a joke.

i know that - during the time i was made to feel ashamed of my aroace identity and the narrative was that i'm actually just repressing my TRUE queer identity, i reframed my memories - i had obviously been in love with my friend Romantically. i was a Real Gay. i was Valid. I Was Sapphic Actually. you can't kick me out of the parade if i had pined for my best friend as a teen!!!!

i know that - once i reclaimed the pride in myself, i reframed the memories again: i had obviously been in love with my friend Platonically, because otherwise i would've been a traitor to the good name of aromanticism. if i knew what it was like to have a crush i would contradict myself. who am i to write about romantic love as if i know? what was i doing at the devil's sacrament?

maybe it is a mystery. maybe i don't know shit. it's hard, actually, to know anything at all when the way my strange brain filters emotions through my body reads so different to the user manual. how can anyone stand to pine for another when it's all anxiety, all day? "butterflies"???? really????? how am i supposed to know anything for sure when my brain's favourite hobby is to pick thoughts apart and run them through the distortion machine on repeat, on repeat, on repeat? i don't know if i've ever loved anyone at all, now that i think about it. maybe i'm an empty shell of a human and everything i do is an act of puppetry and wishful thinking.

i just gotta trust that the love is there, in some form or another. even when i can't reach for it and confirm its existence - let alone deduce a detailed taxonomy. what do you even need that for.

[glorious-sunset]

Reflections on Ep. 8 of LBFAD on rewatch

Arbiter Hall, Day 11: “Da Qiang!” Xiao Lanhua (XLH) called happily on returning to Arbiter of Fate Hall. She excitedly tells him how Changheng (CH) had praised her, refused to cancel her exam result and asked her to keep the Magical Jade Firefly stone. What a coincidence that the firefly came to Arbiter Hall – is this a sign that she and CH are meant to be together? :D

DongFang QingCang (DFQC) scowls in suspicion, slams his teacup onto the table and storms off to study the Xilan scroll for clues to what this new feeling is (it’s jealousy!). It’s the first time he has noticed his internal state not matching XLH’s feelings, but still believes his Tree of Emotions is permanently frozen. Alas, we saw in ep. 7 that his Tree had thawed, and later in this episode, it sprouts two new leaves, for romantic love and desire – feelings he had never experienced even prior to having his emotions removed. (Desire is not one of the listed seven emotions, but is associated with romantic love). He is now much more caring and sincere in all of his interactions with XLH.

Shangque (SQ) believes that since XLH is so happy, she should be able to fix Lady Chidi’s destiny leaf soon! Don’t be ridiculous SQ, DFQC says, she is not fully recovered yet, what’s the rush? He is in no hurry at all to end his blissful days by XLH’s side. :D

Enjoy this stage while you can DFQC! Once he returns to Cangyan Sea, having his emotions return to him in full force will be an inconceivably traumatic experience D: He had been a ruthless killing machine for centuries against his true sweet and caring nature, then suddenly had his compassion returned and had to deal with what he had done and his ongoing mission for revenge. Many have gone insane for far less. DFQC cannot be blamed at all for being “full of thorns” at that stage, as he describes himself in ep. 35 :(

Fountain Palace: Yulin, also plagued by jealousy, had stolen XLH’s Firefly stone and her crime is discovered by Danyin. Taken to Yunzhong’s (YZ) court, she refuses to admit the theft and clings to a far more dangerous story that CH had gifted it to her. But that would mean that CH had betrayed his engagement to the Goddess, so she is sentenced to the most terrible punishment an immortal could be subjected to - removal of her immortal bones. Far worse than an execution, it means she will not ever be able to reincarnate again. This is a chilling warning to CH to never dishonour his engagement, or else…

A tortured CH imagines what would happen if XLH came to work at Fountain Palace, as is her right and her long-standing dream. He doubts he could stop himself from seeking her out every day, speaking tender words to her, betraying his heart…YZ had spies everywhere – she would inevitably end up with her immortal bones removed too! D: He could never forgive himself for putting her in danger, and so, eliminates only XLH’s name from the list of new staff at Fountain Palace. And after he’d gone to so much effort to find and catch the firefly for her and deliver it to Arbiter Hall! He gazes at the orchid flower XLH had given him (soon it will be DFQC’s turn to do this in ep. 19 :D ).

Yujing, Day 12: To her disbelief, XLH is told by Lady Sansheng that CH did not accept her to Fountain Palace. An invisible CH watches as against all her expectations, her one and only dream is shattered to pieces.

Arbiter Hall: XLH discovers that the Firefly stone is also gone, replaced by an ordinary rock. She looks dazedly to DFQC for answers and he caringly complies with her query by carrying her up to Yunzhong Water Pavillion (their usual sunbathing spot!). What impeccable timing, as YZ is just now grilling CH on why he eliminated the remarkable fairy who used herself as bait to save everyone, from the Fountain Palace list. Didn’t CH praise her and say that she was “brave, intelligent, pure and kind?” (How does YZ know this? CH was right that he has spies on him everywhere!) CH uses the same arguments that XLH had presented to him when she tried to cancel her exam result! Her immortal roots are damaged, she is weak, she came from the mortal realm and doesn’t deserve the honour. YZ’s secret smile and headshake make it clear that he has seen through CH’s story. Nevertheless, YZ is pleased that CH has let go of his secret crush and is honouring his engagement.

Back at Arbiter Hall, XLH nurses her broken dreams and heartbreak at CH’s cruel words but tries to be strong. With her weak power, she should be happy that she passed the examination at all, so she says she will ask Peach to perform the celebration of scattering flowers. (DFQC takes careful note of this, and creates a scattering of peach blossom petals for her banquet in ep. 13! :D ) Sacrificing his own comfort for XLH’s well-being, DFQC tells her to cry and release her pain. “CH is blind” he says, his fury at the God of War ever increasing as he feels XLH’s grief and tears stream down his own face due to the Xilan curse. “Do you look down on me Da Qiang?” she asks anxiously. “To benzuo, you are as precious as my life” he replies, his voice husky with emotion and sincerity! In ep. 7, he resentfully said “Your life is as important to me as my own life”. This time, there is no resentment, and it is she herself, not just her life, that is precious to him. Not because of the one-heart curse, but because he genuinely cares for her!

DFQC roughly brushes a tear from XLH’s cheek and we see that the greenhouse flowers are in bloom! They are linked to XLH’s mood, so despite CH smashing her dreams, DFQC’s efforts to comfort her have had a far greater impact, and she is now happy.

But their tender exchange is interrupted by CH, who has arrived with ten soldiers to search Arbiter Hall for criminals. DFQC’s hatred for CH, who had hurt his Xiao Hua Yao leads to him preparing to attack rather than concealing himself with invisibility. XLH is alarmed! What is Da Qiang doing?! He can’t stand against the God of War and ten Heavenly soldiers! Although both of the men she cares about are there, her only thought is of saving DFQC. She protectively wraps her arms around him and topples them over the edge of Arbiter Hall. Our white-clad fairy and black-clad devil clasped tightly in her embrace fall a great distance into the Oblivion River (such a beautiful scene!).

And, they are both enjoying this close contact very much, as DFQC’s eyes close in pleasure, and XLH continues to hold him for quite a long time after they are in the water. When she finally realises she doesn’t need to and lets go, he is sad, again feeling like an unlovable beast that everyone avoids. Unfortunately, CH’s search of Arbiter Hall is quite long and thorough. XLH’s magic exhausted, the air bubble she had created around them bursts and she is drowning. Her demise would also mean the demise of DFQC, and he has several options available to him to save her. Should he recreate the large air bubble around them? Teleport them out of the water and conceal them with invisibility? Or fly them somewhere else entirely?

Another idea makes him hesitate, but in the end, he can’t resist the urge to claim her lips to provide her with life-saving air. XLH opens her eyes to find Da Qiang’s mouth fastened to hers and his hooded gaze upon her. Her heart races, and her first thought is of how wonderful it feels. She had wondered what it would feel like to kiss Da Qiang again, now that he had claimed her heart. His lips are soft and warm against hers, and his breath cools her burning lungs.

But as she remembers that CH is searching for him and kissing him is a bad idea, she pulls away, to his annoyance. Did she forget that she was drowning?! XLH realises she has no choice and gives in. It might be their last chance to express their feelings and release the tension between them. She continues to kiss DFQC as he breathes air into her lungs for many heated minutes until he is absolutely sure that CH is gone! :D This is a nice parallel to their first kiss in ep. 1, which DFQC had instigated to draw life-giving energy from her. This time, he is the one providing life to her through their kiss. It is also, in an unorthodox way, their first romantic kiss.

They are hyperaware of each other afterwards and XLH decides to go to Shuyu Forest to get some air and recover her dazed senses. As a similarly dazed DFQC touches his lips in wonder with trembling fingers, two new leaves sprout on his Tree of Emotions for romantic love and desire.

DFQC sits having tea and pondering why didn’t he just kill CH after all? He didn’t have to go along with XLH’s crazy plan. It would have been in the interests of the Moon Tribe to eliminate the God of War while he was separated from the rest of the Heavenly High Council and leave no witnesses. Unknowingly, this is the first of many times that DFQC has put his feelings for XLH higher in his priorities than his perceived responsibility towards the Moon Tribe.

But he is soon distracted by the Tianji mirror revealing to him a vision of XLH’s wedding to CH by the Oblivion River. He does not see the mortal realm wedding, as only the Oblivion River wedding requires his intervention. As Siming says in ep. 32, those who see a prophecy can bring it about (how ironic, as the last thing DFQC would want is to bring about XLH’s wedding to CH). This new crushing sensation in his chest is far worse than any other feeling he has ever felt.

Shuyu Forest: How XLH feels about her very prolonged make-out session with DFQC is clear from the way she is giggling and skipping through the forest while twirling her skirts. :D But Danyin bursts her bubble by informing her that a member of the Moon Tribe who escaped from Haotian Tower is still on the loose. XLH finally puts two and two together. Da Qiang’s surname is Dongfang…a surname known to belong to the Moon Tribe, and the missing prisoner is Moon Tribe. This is good…he can return to his people and escape from Shuiyuntian.

Arbiter Hall: DFQC is suspicious of the wine XLH offers him for the wrong reasons - Siming has some of the best wine in the three realms, wouldn’t she be angry that they were using it up? But he drinks it. Inconceivable! The mightiest being in the three realms is weak to sedatives?! Lucky that XLH has magic to help her move the Moon Supreme’s tall and sturdy body all the way down to the Oblivion River (I wonder where she got the boat from).

Oblivion River: As DFQC wakes from his stupor in a boat on the Oblivion River, XLH asks him to return to his people at Cangyan Sea and never return to Shuiyuntian, where he will be in danger. She doesn’t care about the risk to her own life for helping him. As she softly says “I’ll miss you”, through the one-heart curse he feels her overwhelming sadness and affection for him. He is very touched by her loyalty to him. She flies away, leaving him to eat her flower cakes thoughtfully.

Here is a link back to my episode 1 review (contains spoilers). More reviews to follow. All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[kaffykathy]

"All these so-call sci-fi fans are going turncoat [against AI created content]"

I was sent this today after I told someone on discord why I am not interested in AI Generated art.

I'm not going to pretend I am that much into books either, but don't think a cyberpunk became a genre out of nowhere.

Hell, how many Star Trek Episodes are there where a computer was the villain?

AI generated art is not only an unregulated new technology that makes it easier to use our creativity, it is also an ethical conundrum involving copyright infringement, fair use, and ownership. The way a machines learn through the use of websites like DeviantArt and ArtStation off the work of real artists is something anyone that wants to use these programs should put in mind whenever they generate an image.

I can see the argument of there no fault using it for scrapbooking or people's fun. People can already edit an image and make it their own with photo editing software and have been doing it for as long as computers have been available, but with how AI basically "learns", I find it an unjust finding that people deemed that the author and owner of these works are the ones that wrote the prompt.

Before anyone tells me that human artists are basically the same. No, an artist interprets what he sees through visualization. An artist tries to making something new with its references and experience to their best abilities. An artist sets themself apart with their own influences, their own brush strokes, their own process, and their own memories and understanding of emotions and names.

A prompt given into an AI can be written by everyone. The current programs that we have can't learn to differenciate from the images used in as their base. It doesn't really know what certian words or phrases mean, it just simply uses the most closely associated images possibly through tags that closely resembles the words used. It cannot be bargained to fix something if the person who gave the prompt is not happy with it. It cannot change what it already has made. And it cannot generate anything if there is no images to be found. It can't learn a new medium or talk to you. It can't interpret an instrumental track or any music outside of a couple blurbs of the lyrics written into the prompt. It can't tell a story through it's work. It can't sympathize with it's subject of focus. And it can't understand why it can't draw hands or how to fix them.

An image generation program is not an artist. It cannot better itself, and it cannot make worlds for you. If you wanna know why sci-fi fans hate AI, it's because taking the leisure of artistic creativity away from humanity and giving it to a machine is a cacotopian nightmare.

[rainglade]

My grandfather once told me that it is better to have less friends than more, and to be careful who to consider a friend. He told me about his experience, and how most of the people in your life should be nothing more than acquaintances. I understand what he meant by this, but it makes me a little bit confused. I think advice like that tends to stem from the idea that I just have a super robust social life and throw around my feelings haphazardly, when the reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

When I was in elementary school, I moved three times, and while my old therapist once alluded to the idea that that had maybe impacted my ability to form close friendships (emotional detachment, hyperindependence, etc.) I think it is probably more than that.

Growing up, I knew there were things about me that were different, but I simultaneously also felt as though what I felt was "normal" per se. I just though that things like sexual attraction were barely there for most people, that gender was pretty meaningless for most people, that my perception of the world was consistent with everyone else's. I think when I learned that this wasn't the case, it made me feel a little bit alienated, more subconciously than conciuosly, which made it so that I can't think of a single person I considered an actual friend in middle school.

The people I sat with at lunch to avoid sitting alone had no respect for me and made me leave when the table was crowded. Even the majority of people who I interacted with were friendly and kind to me, but I never felt close to them. By eighth grade, everyone kind of knew everyone, so things had calmed down more and I felt less insecure, but that didn't change the fact that I didn't have friends, and refused to allow people to get close to me when they tried to be friends with me. Come high school, I never was really bullied or picked on (thank goodness for going to a small minority-majority school attached to a college) but even then, the extent of my friendships were sitting next to people in class or eating lunch with my friend starla.

Mine and my mother's brain have a lot in common, so when I learned that she didn't make many friends until college, I assumed it was the same for me, then felt disappointed when I didn't have any close friends in my first year or two. It is recently that I think I have felt that shift. I think the anti-anxiety meds helped with that, and I also think that mentally I just don't care about that things that used to make me anxious.

In my first year of uni, I used to sleep at 9pm sharp so I'd be asleep before my roommate got back and I wouldn't have to interact with him, then I awoke and left at 6am so I'd be gone before he woke up. On the several nights that I was out past 10/11pm, I slept in the library because I was anxious about waking him up when I unlocked the door. It seemed perfectly rational then, but ridiculous to think about now. Things like this have started to fade into the background of my mind; the bars that limited me before have started to disintegrate, and I couldn't be more glad.

I think my grandfather was right, but I also think that before having close friends, you have to first put yourself out there. Love doesn't come to you by making yourself desirable, it comes to you by making yourself vulnerable to it. It comes by opening your heart and mind; your people will not come to you until you come to them. The universe is a machine, and one gear cannot turn until the other one does. Everything is reciprocal, everything is circular. At the end of the day, who do you want to answer to? Who will you willingly be there for, and who will be there for you?

[bathiveroleplays]

Geralt: What Healing Looks Like

Geralt has lived a long, long time. He is full of knowledge and experience. This man has killed many monsters, helped plenty of people, loved and lost and hurt.

He traveled alone for ages. After loosing a lot, you get tired of loosing people. Friends, family, loved ones. These are lovely things to have but when you loose enough of them…it weighs on the soul.

Cirella lost a great deal too. Her family, her home. Too much for a young girl to loose. When Geralt took her in, he brought her to live among the other Witchers.

They are all these tough, emotions-are-for-the-weak sort of men. They have no idea how to properly care for a young lady. They made fun of her for putting flowers in her hair (like a normal young lady would do). She likely felt alienated and the only way she could be worthy was to suppress her softer emotions and feelings. Become what everyone already believed Witchers to be. Emotionless, cold, monstrous.

She was going to endure the final change to become a full Witcher. Geralt mentioned this before as a rather traumatizing process that killed many others. Ciri thought, to be accepted among, what she thought, was her new family, she must do this process too.

She told Geralt she wanted to be like him when he came to stop her. Unbothered by the past, not dwelling on who she was or the bad things she’s done. That’s when he laid down some of that knowledge for her. He said:

“You, nor I, should forget our past and who we were.” He went on to tell her that she cannot stop herself from feeling her anger for the unfairness of life, he told her that the best thing she could hope to do was to “kill the hatred” towards her past and people in her life.

Geralt likely spoke from experience. He spent a lot of time alone and angry. During that time, he became dangerous. Exactly the monster everyone thought him to be. A cold, unfeeling, ruthless, killing machine. When he met Ciri, he realized the path he was going down and stopped for her sake.

When he saw her heading for the same path. He had to stop her too. He knew too much anger and disconnection from your own humanity would turn you into something no better than the monsters Witchers fight

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning Chapter 34: I can’t think of a title for this interlude

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/110831974

Council Chambers, Tython

Since the Temple was in the tropical zone, its inhabitants rarely felt a glacial chill quite like what the Council did right now. Vajra’s report, relayed by Archivist Jasme, was among the most sobering briefings that had ever been discussed in quite a while.

“‘The procedures were so painful that even anesthetics failed to keep them under,’” the young woman read out. Her voice and expression were carefully neutral, but for someone as emotive as herself, a lack of expression was a worrying red flag. “‘A troubling number woke up on the table, screaming their lungs out from the pain and shock. Even if they hadn’t, the changes wrought by the operations are irreversible. None of the Power Guard can go back to leading a normal life. They are weapons now. Even the Marks One through Four, whose cybernetic modifications are the least extensive. The Mark Five are all but machines. Unsurprising, perhaps, as they were conceived in the mind of Angral’s son. According to the tests, they are expected to trade well with Sith Lords. If their designs get back to the Empire, the Jedi will be far more beleaguered than we were in the previous war. After all, I do not doubt that the Empire might resort to pressgang rather than recruitment. And since we cannot allow our side to continue these horrible experiments, I feel it is imperative for us to plug the leak. I have been told that the Sith Lord in charge of hijacking the Power Guard project is Lord Sadic. According to his files, he’s a gifted engineer. I fear that, given time, he will… ‘perfect’ the Power Guard. I mean to stop him first. In addition, we need to hold our people accountable, and to ensure that the rescued Guards are rehabilitated. I imagine they’ll all be in for the rudest of awakenings. In addition, the droid in command had heard about a Mark Six, but I’ve found no signs that there’s such model down here. I dread to think what it might be. I think the Council might want to look into it. That concludes my report.’”

“Thank you, Jasme. You may have a seat.”

Satele’s daughter bowed and took a seat wordlessly, fetching herself a glass of water on the way.

“This was troubling,” Tol Braga said.

“Ya think?” Jaric snorted. “Which part in particular? That makeover from hell? Or the fact that Sadic, of all people, has two hundred of these Guards? Vajra was right about his engineering skills; he can reverse engineer the process by dissecting those poor souls in months. And those that survive will be mindwiped.”

“Equally disturbing, I think, is how our people felt compelled to take this drastic measure,” Gnost rubbed his face. “Var Suthra should have known better than to give the green light to this one.”

“But now the genie’s out of the bottle,” Nikil grumbled.

“Not quite all the way out,” Satele reminded everyone. “Not yet. We still have a chance to nip this in the bud. Sadic must not be allowed to rediscover the process of creating Power Guards. We need to put more Jedi on this. Whom can we spare right now?”

“Master Nomen Karr is right there on Nar Shaddaa, is he not?” Tol asked.

“You know Nomen,” Kaedan grumbled. “Even a Council order can’t make him abandon his quest.

“Besides,” Tol added. “We can’t expect a Master to take orders from a fledgling Knight, but after what he’s already accomplished, we can’t take Vajra off the helm either. It would be like telling him we don’t have confidence in him.”

“If I may, Master Braga,” Jasme put in. “He wouldn’t really care. In fact, he might be relieved.”

“But my point stands,” Kaedan growled. “Master Karr will not abandon his foolish quest to ferret out Darth Baras’ supposed spy network. Nothing we say can make him. I think we’re approaching that time when we must bring him to heel. And his associates too.”

“There are few Knights to spare,” Satele began.

“What about Devel Nirol?” Syo asked. “He should be on Nar Shaddaa right now.”

“He’s got his own mission,” Satele reminded him. “The plague is an even greater danger to us, in its own way. I think I should go out there myself. Not only to support him, but also to see him at work. While he’s not the youngest Knight we’ve ever promoted, he was never on a probatory period like the others. Even his apprenticeship was largely unsupervised. While I have every confidence in him, we need to keep an eye on him, just in case.”

“You do remember the reason for his circumstances, right?” Jaric countered. “We cannot spare anyone on this Council for all but the most critical tasks.”

“Then whom can we send?” Gnost asked before that old argument began again. “Bengel is remorseful, and wants to atone for his sins. He has also requested to be assigned to Vajra.”

“I don’t trust Bengel,” Jaric shook his head firmly. “I am opposed.”

“Trust aside, he does have to work through his issues before we burden him with any responsibilities,” Satele said.

“I’m… I’m afraid I’m out of ideas,” Tol said, after a dozen other candidates were considered and discarded.

“I’m not,” Gnost put in. “I think we need to consider dispatching Padawans in situations like this. We can send Kana to help them.”

The Falleen did not look too pleased, but stood and bowed.

The Council thought on it for a while. “What do you say, Kana?” Satele asked.

“I can help your pipsqueak,” she used the word without hint of malice. “I mean, I saw him during that Trial in Keleth, so I know he’s got skill. But he’s clearly in over his head in this one. I could lighten his burdens considerably.”

“Well then, perhaps we should vote on it,” Satele looked around the room.

The motion failed, but only by a slim margin. Satele fought the impulse to react. In the end, they weren’t able to scrounge up a single Jedi to aid Vajra.

She could feel Jasme’s disapproval.

*

Later that day

For the first time, Satele’s daughter did not ask her for a hug. “I suppose you’re angry with me,” Satele sighed.

“The Power Guard project, Mom? I asked you to take it slow with him, and you assign him to a cleanup job that has ‘mad science’ written all over it?”

Satele supposed she should be relieved that Jasme didn’t know about the Rakghouls. Yet.

She led the young woman to a seat and sat her down. “You have every right to be mad at me.”

“More than angry... I’m scared for my friend. Vajra may have passed the Trials, but this is the sort of thing you give a more hardened Jedi. At this rate, the ‘Storm of the Jedi’ will blow itself out by the year’s end.”

“I’m surprised Vajra let you hear about this,” Satele commented. “I thought he’d want to protect you.”

“Maybe he thinks I am strong enough,” Jasme replied. “Maybe he wanted to share his burdens with me. He gave me the option to say ‘no,’ by the way. Made it clear what I was about to hear. I don’t regret my choice.”

“It’s nice to not be coddled,” Satele patted her head, but she pulled away.

“I’m serious, Mom. I’m not happy. Can you at least move him to easier duty after this one?”

“It’s not my decision alone.”

“Then tell me this,” Jasme’s expression turned pleading. “Who is it that’s most eager to put Vajra on top of your most difficult assignments? Maybe I can talk to them. Is it Master Kaedan?”

“No. Jaric is neutral on this. The one most enthusiastic about his potential are actually Tol and Syo.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me right. Both think that Vajra is the strongest weapon the Light has forged in years. And others are convinced of that too.”

“There’s no weapon forged that doesn’t break when overused,” Jasme cried. “Or when used wrongly. Like a sword used to chop wood.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Satele recalled the abject fear in the youth’s voice when he told the Council about his encounter with the Rakghouls. She had tried to recall him, but the others had accused her of being affected by her feelings. Then and now, Satele knew that while it was true, it didn’t make her wrong. As good as he was, Vajra could have been killed. Or worse, turned into a Rakghoul.

She wondered how her daughter would react when she found out that Satele had risked such a cruel fate befalling her best friend.

“It… I’ve already tried to pull him off the difficult missions. I was… they told me not to let my feelings interfere with my judgement.” Anger flickered for a moment; an outrage born of the memory of all her sacrifices for the Jedi Order. No one had any right to lecture her on judgement.

“They accused you?” Jasme looked at her disbelievingly. “YOU!?”

“Yes.”

Jasme snorted angrily.

“I’m sorry, Jasme.”

“Mom… Those people, those poor people… and to think, that Anomid called them ‘heroes!’”

“I know,” Satele frowned. “They lost everything to the Empire. Lives, families, homes… The idea of revenge was enough to make them give up the scant little they had left. It’s rare for the Ungifted to be this affected by blind hatreds.”

“What if it wasn’t hatred?” Jasme asked. “What if they were just tired of being… well. Weak? Most of them were beggars and vagrants, from what we can tell. People who can’t hold down a job because they’re too traumatized. Maybe what they want isn’t revenge, it’s strength?”

Satele was surprised by the perspective. “That… that’s something to consider.”

“There’s a lot of broken people out there, Mom. Many of them just want a chance to be whole again.”

“Enough to sign up for such a scheme?” Satele exclaimed. “They may not have known the full extent of what was in store for them, but they must have known—”

“Knowing and experiencing are two different things,” Jasme said. From her sudden frown, Satele thought she was considering her own words.

“A kiss for your thoughts?” Satele tried, but the young woman was clearly over her ill temper, going by the radiant smile she gave her.

“It was something Tarsten told me,” Jasme answered.

Satele had to think on who that was. “Ah, the envoy at Raudraksha?”

“That’s him,” Jasme nodded. “We were talking about everything I read, and how it didn’t come close to reality. At some point, I gave him the impression that I thought I knew everything, so he looked at me all funny and said, ‘The world is not in your books and maps. It’s out there.’”

“Sage counsel,” Satele smiled inwardly, recognizing the quote.

“I thought so too!” she cried, head nodding vigorously. “I’ve been rethinking my career.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll still be with the Archives of course. But I want to get trained as an Archaeologist. I want to go out there. See new places. And old ones too.”

“Let me know if Gnost has any problem with your decision,” Satele suggested. “I’ll cut off his second breakfast privileges.”

Jasme laughed out loud and took the kiss Satele had offered.

On her way out, she stopped and turned with a conflicted look on her face. “Mom, I’ve got something I’ve been dying to know for years now.”

“Oh?”

“Do you have any real friends? All I ever see you with are colleagues. And me, I suppose.”

Satele rearranged her features into mock outrage. “What are you talking about?” she asked tartly. “Of course, I have friends. Like… like—” She struggled to name a single one. She had lost touch with her final friend nearly three years ago. Most of them were estranged now, or soured.

Jasme picked up on her inner discomfort. “I said something troubling, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Satele assured her. “I gave my life to being a Jedi. To being the Grand Master. This is the price I didn’t realize I’d paid.”

“I don’t like it,” Jasme grumbled. “I know that you’re more than just ‘Grand Master’ of the Order. I’ve seen you try to be my mom. I’ve seen these little snatches of loneliness and sorrow on your face. I can see you have a world of problems bothering you, and you’re taking them all on alone.”

“I don’t want to put my burdens on you.”

“That’s sweet,” Jasme gave her a wide, tilt-headed smile and blinked twice. She did things like that sometimes; to try making moments cute. It was a trait Satele found endearing. “Look, I’m not asking you to share with me. You need a comrade. An equal, if possible. Not anyone from the Council, obviously, coz most of them are such stuffy old men and women. Please just… find someone? Do it for me. One of my biggest fears is that when the war starts again, you’ll be crushed under all the weight you’re keeping to yourself.”

*

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

[felikatze]

give me the a brainworms i am deeply invested in this man

(0) (2) (3) (4)

okay first of all you asked for this. second of all if i am a little off track from the game that is explained by me just building thoughts like building blocks without looking back. third i was supposed to be studying for an exam but this counts as practice right? it's character analysis anyway lmao.

buckle the fuck up, my dearest anon, because I have sub headings.

1. A as the Player Character

Let me begin with why I am obsessed with this horrid little guy in the first place: he's a silent protagonist. I am always obsessed with protagonists. It's a law of nature. I love taking hollow characters and dissecting them for scraps. It's a long standing practice of mine.

Being a silent protagonist, A, as X, does not have a set personality. However, there are patterns. Firstly, as any semi-silent protagonist, A is a reactive character. He does not start incidents, he only responds to situations, presented by the Sephirah, as they arise. He does not actively seek out new information, merely going about the routine of expanding departments, but expresses curiosity when information is presented to him.

I'm aware fandom likes to characterize X and A differently, likely because they are initially presented as different characters. I, on the other hand, would like to pose the theory that they are more similar than expected.

I believe that A is also a reactive character, rather than active. Despite the fandom wiki describing him as stubborn, the goal A pursues with such fervor, the completion of the Seed of Light, is not actually a goal he set for himself. Carmen is the one who set this goal for him by leaving him her legacy.

Throughout the backstory we get relating to the Cogito Project, A is Carmen's assistant, whereas Carmen is the driving researcher. This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be; going with the flow of goals set for them by superiors. Yes I will get into his attachment to Carmen later.

The above is not to say A isn't stubborn. Once he has accepted a goal as his own, he will pursue it at all costs, as is obvious from any and all flashbacks leading to horrible deaths. But the point isn't his pursuit of the goal, but where that goal comes from. Even Lobcorp itself supports this, despite what Hokma may say; A as X follows the "simple" task of managing the Corp's day to day activities, and executes any mission given to him by the Sephirah. He outranks them, and doesn't actually need to do their missions, but does so anyway. Players are driven by the reward offered by those missions, of course, and A might be the same in that regard. Nonetheless, at no point in gameplay do you do anything somebody else hasn't told you to.

The overarching narrative of the Script would be the most obvious example. Every single person in the game follows the script, whether they know it or not.

Lastly on this note, a phrase we hear attributed to A, "Machines must behave as machines." Now, Angela may be attached to this phrase because it bears significance to herself as a machine, and informs most of A's unjust treatmeant of her. However, what if it doesn't just apply to machines? The phrase reads as such, "Everyone must act according to their own role."

2. A, Carmen, and the disease of the mind

So, A will at any cost pursue goals Carmen set for him. Question is, why? The obvious answer would be saying he's in love with her, which like, true. But also, how did Carmen come to be so precious to him?

Let us return to the comparison, "This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be." We don't really know why exactly most characters joined Carmen, excluding mainly Daniel and Benjamin. But this does not mean we can't have theories.

Carmen's ideal was curing the "disease of the mind." What is the disease? Complete hopelessness. The inability to form aspirations and dreams, to think of a better future. A is a very reactive character who does not set goals for himself. Therefore, I personally conclude, that initially, Carmen's ideology resonated with him because he could identify with the disease.

This is the point where I start rewatching Lobcorp story clips. Dear god.

So, by briefly binging day 27 onward, I've come up with lines that very much support this lil theory of mine:

First, from Carmen, a description of the disease, "People lock away their own potential."

Second, a line from Angela, after the memory synchronization, "You've locked yourself in this prison without bars."

Carmen describes A as humble, and Benjamin thinks he is warm. If I suppose A was one of the diseased initially, Carmen would be the catalyst for this change. Carmen was someone with big aspirations, with plans to heal what is wrong with the City, and it gave him hope. He was one of the diseased, but through time with Carmen, with that relentless optimistic spirit, he may have been cured, for a time. It's not a stretch to say that she was his light.

But lor shows us what happens when the seed of light sprouts wrong, doesn't it? It distorts. A grasped hope for the first time and then it is ruthlessly crushed. Carmen was everything. Yes, A is described as a jack-of-all-trades, as a genius in all pursuits he puts his mind to, but what does that matter in the face of someone who can unite people? Who can give them hope of a better world? Who can inspire them to actually use the talents they have?

And what kind of pressure is it to put the legacy of a messiah in the hands of the diseased?

3. A and the Perception Filter: A is weak to White damage

No, I am serious about that. He's extremely weak mentally. Obviously death of a loved one is a changing experience for absolutely anybody, but Carmen's death destroyed him.

Not only did he refuse to confide this grief to anyone and bottled it up, now everybody looked to him to lead the project, but he just isn't Carmen. He isn't an ambitious person, he doesn't have the same optimism, he can't bring people together, but people expected him to, and he failed. Hard.

While he was without a doubt talented in science, he was also just an average guy.

After her death, A grew to hate humans. He lost trust in them. He refused to confide in anyone, and be confided in by anyone. Thus, the team fell apart.

In both lobcorp and lor, we get interesting tidbits about precations taken to protect the manager.

Firstly, Lobcorp's perception filter. The cartoony art-style of the game is a result of the game being in first person. Through the eyes of the manager, everything is cartoony!

This is a measure undertaken to specifically protect the manager's psyche. Angela tells us that, before it was deployed, the manager would frequently go insane, one notable incident including the manager trying to hang himself. When we first hear this, the previous managers and X are still separate in our minds. However, they're all A! A went insane multiple times without it.

This is understandable, considering that employees also frequently go insane and try to kill both themselves and others. But they're there in action, confronting the Abnormalities directly. Just watching them made the manager go mad. They could not handle the responsibility for the employees' deaths.

In lor, Angela explains why she picked the Rabbit Team from R Corp as their main contractor instead of any other team. One team was simply too big for L Corp's narrow hallways, and the other team... dealt in psychic damage. It was simply too big of a risk for the manager. But the manager is always secure behind the cameras. Would that teams methods just be that brutal visually, or would their attacks have reached the manager?

Combined with his immense grief at all of his friends and coworkers dying in part because of him, A cannot bear to look at death.

4. A's greatest flaw: Avoidance

A common thread during Core Meltdown flashbacks: A refuses to look at suffering. He just can't. Whether it be looking away from Elijah writhing on the floor or hanging up on Daniel's panicked report of death.

This is actually the thing Angela takes the biggest issue with, and what hurt her most. A would never look at her, acknowledge her, and she did not understand why. But I think A did not refuse to look at her out of maliciousness. Rather, it was out of grief over Carmen. He could not look at her without being reminded of what he lost.

Angela's creation came about because A wanted someone to guide him, someone like Carmen. He threw himself into the project to the point it made Benjamin happy that A was passionate about anything again. But as soon as the project he distracted himself with is complete, he is filled with regret. Carmen cannot be replicated, and he breaks again.

Furthermore, tying this back to my first point about A being a reactive person, we see Angela take charge over A. She's the one recruiting employees and leading the business. It was likely a relief for him to be able to step down from the leading position.

But avoiding it made everything worse. He did not act when he saw Elijah's unchecked ambition, he did not act beyond a simple check at Gabriel's decay, he gave Giovanni the same hope he clung to to no avail, et cetera et cetera.

Avoiding his problems is making them worse and sending everything down the drain (including his psyche), so he deals with it the only way he knows how, avoiding them more!

Biggest example of A's big avoidance problem as his psyche crumbles: the memory wipe. A, in perhaps his one singular moment of acknowledging his emotions, recognizes that he is incapable of fulfilling the Script in his current state. His grief is just too much.

By erasing his own memory, he could start fresh without his grief, because he might've really killed himself otherwise. His suffering became bigger and bigger, and he coped by avoiding it.

The memory wipe allowed him to distangle his problems. Through his interactions with the Sephirah (which I will not individually detail for the sake of my sanity and because I dumped all this on a friend on discord already), he can deal with and actually process his issues one at a time.

As the motto describes, only by facing the fear can he build the future. Only by finally facing his grief and acknowleding it, seeing that the past cannot be changed and he has no choice to move forward, can he actually do so.

5. The Sephirah as ghosts

Lobotomy Corporation feels like a ghost story. I've touched upon this in my previous A post.

As you reach the Corp's lower levels, there are less Sephirah. First there are four. They act like normal employees, and do not breach into the story's underbelly until you reach their core supressions and the facade breaks. Second, counting Tiphereth as one, there are three. They still go about their duties, but they know what they are. Third, there are two, and the facade is gone. They know what they are, and they will tell you about the sins of the past.

And finally, you reach Keter, and there is only one.

This gradual decay of the facade is what really gets to me. I said that by interacting with the Sephirah, A deals with his issues one by one, but that's what the Sephirah are, in this case. Representations.

The people the Sephirah used to be are dead, and the Sephirah are their ghosts. The core supression involve putting these ghosts to rest. Doesn't it match the progression of a typical ghost story? Find the ghost, find what they used to be, and help them move on.

So, if everyone is a ghost, then A is alone.

But, behind the scenes, the Sephirah are still there. They are still people, and they have changed for the better, too. As always, A simply does not look.

(Does he even see the good others see in him? Does he look away from praise, too? Did he even realize Benjamin's admiration for him? Will we ever know?)

6. A's end.

A's progression of moving on would be fine and dandy if it did not end as thus: A does kill himself.

A sees himself beyond the point of no return. Everyone is dead. He is alone. Carmen is never coming back. He can't call it quits now, or else everything has been in vain. (Even if the last days show us a part of him wants to just quit, so badly.)

So, there's only one thing left to do: follow the Script to its ending. Fulfill Carmen's legacy at all costs. Death as the ultimate release.

This is the point where I admit I do not like the death as release trope. But the game does a good enough job as presenting it as the only option A had, or the only option he saw himself as having.

However, I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again: A was not alone. Death was his release, but he left wreckage. In order to end his own suffering, he inflicted the same pain he went through on others.

Throughout the game, he moves on and pushes through. The ending shows that in reality... he didn't.

At least in lor the characters stick together and help each other heal.

This has been most of my thoughts on A, amounting to my longest analysis post ever, having taken me approximately two and a half hours to complete, and clocking in at 2337 words including up to this paragraph.

Thank you anon for giving me the incentive to verbalize all of this, so I can finally be at ease having inflicted my thoughts on everybody else.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 10.2

Author’s Note: I got all 4 wisdom teeth removed on Tuesday and now I look a bit like a chipmunk hehehe XD

"Haah...ngh..."  Squinted eyelids prevented you from panicking at the sight of the branch retracting from your abdomen while you slowly pulled yourself away from the tree.  Still, the movement only enhanced the stars that obscured your vision.

"Your opponent's right here."  A cold warning caught your attention, and you glanced up to see Childe with another arrow knocked against his bow and aimed at Scaramouche's head.  Apparently the sixth harbinger was contemplating on striking you down while you moved.  "Your fight is with me."

"You have three seconds before I end you for betraying the will of the Tsaritsa," he growled back.

"Well, Mezzetin? What're you waiting for? Get out of here."

"Mhmm..."  You scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it to your stomach.  You don't have to tell me twice.  You turned your back to them, trusting Childe with your literal life in his hands, and--froze.  Dammit.  Why is he throwing his life away for me? He has a family to return to.  "Childe-"

"Go! I can handle him."

You peered over your shoulder to gaze at his profile.  He didn't bother looking your way which was the smart move given the dangerous situation.  His expression was nothing less than determined and focused on the opponent in front of him.  "Be careful."

Childe didn't respond, though his lips did twitch slightly upward at your heartfelt warning.  The sound of retreating footsteps that crunched in the snow allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. He dismissed his bow and summoned two hydro blades in his hands.  "Now then.  I've been wanting to fight you for awhile now.  What do you say we have ourselves a friendly fight to the death? Show me your strength."

.................................

"What do you think you're doing?"  A faceless god struck Xiao across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground.  "You have the audacity to disobey my commands?  Who do you think you are? You are nothing without me.  You hear? You're nothing, Alatus."

Xiao licked the blood that covered his teeth and bit his lip to prevent himself from fighting back.  This wasn't a new occurrence by any means...or at least, the little rebellion wasn't.  He would fight, claw his way out of this god's grasp if he could, but every day he was back at square one:  nothing but a slave.

"What's your excuse this time," the god questioned, yanking Xiao into the air by construing a firm grip in the adeptus's hair, "that you couldn't fulfill your duty?  Did it make you sick, killing those creatures?  Exterminating those gods that were strangers to you?  You're weak.  You're worthless.  You're worthless!"  

The god dropped Xiao and he fell to his knees.  He couldn't bring himself to speak with the growing lump in his throat and the tears burning his eyes.  Who was he but a murderer now?  Could his soul even be redeemed for the sins he's committed?  He's only been in this god's grasp for a couple months now, but the amount of beings he's killed is--

"I have a special punishment for you."  The god summoned what looked to be a young god, no older than a child and an orphan by the tear stains on his cheeks.  He was beaten, like this god had already decided to have his way with the child; bruises colored his pale malnourished flesh with blues and purples.  There was no light in the kid's eyes; they were empty, devoid of hope, devoid of rage, devoid of even sadness.

The sight alone was enough to scar Xiao.  Would he too become devoid of all emotion in due time?

His master shoved the god spawn forward so he fell before Xiao's stiff body.  "Kill him."

"What?"

"You heard me loud and clear, Alatus.  Kill him, and eat his dreams.  This is what you will do from now on when I give you the order to kill."

"I can't," Xiao wavered and stared at the broken child in front of him.  "I won't."

Xiao would very much rather be dead than do these awful tasks so the god never bothered to threaten death.  Doing so would give this worthless servant release from a job that needs to be done.  Torture seemed to work on some occasions, but eventually Xiao had become used to the pain and rarely cried out.  So the best way to get this stupid creature to follow orders--  "If you don't, I will.  And you know what that means."

Unnecessary torture until his dying breath, the yaksha thought as his wavering gaze lowered to the child once more.

"What'll it be?"

The child held Xiao's gaze, but he felt no hope looking at the adeptus.  His life was over; that much, he was sure.  There was no point in living anyway.  His entire family was slaughtered.  Where could he go but wonder the lands alone?  Nothing would fill the void in his heart nor replace his loved ones.  

Xiao recognized the acceptance, the defeat, in the child's broken demeanor.  He didn't want to kill him but if it prevented a much slower, painful death, then this is an act of kindness.  It's an act of kindness.  It's an act of kindness.  He's doing this for the orphan's benefit.  This is a way of saving the child.  This is--

"...Forgive me."  

The blade of his polearm shot through the god spawn with the utmost precision and speed.  A weak labored gasp escaped him from the contact, but all he felt was a small pinch.  It was peaceful, or at least as peaceful as death could be.

This is for his own good, Xiao told himself as he watched the life drain from his eyes.  A desperate persuasion of the mind to preserve what little innocence he has left.

"Eat his dreams."

"I won't disobey again.  Please, spare me," he begged.  But the unwavering glare of his master said there was no room for bargaining.  

Xiao returned his attention to the boy who was now hanging by a very thin thread.  To extract one's dreams, they must still be alive--and the last moments of their death are a frightening eternal nightmare.  He did as he was told and pulled the boy's dreams out until a glowing substance sat lightly in his hand.  The smell was different for everyone's dreams, those with pure hearts having the sweetest of fragrances just like this boy's.  The tastes of dreams themselves were rather unrememberable, but the textures were all the same.

He devoured it as quickly as possible, holding his breath so that sickly sweet aroma wouldn't stick around in his nose to haunt him.  As he did, the dying boy's expression changed from empty to horrified, and then his body finally gave in to the drastic wound in his chest and slumped over.

He just stared helplessly at the body for awhile while his master nodded in approval.  The weight of the god's hand clapping his shoulder barely managed to snap Xiao out of his distraught gaze.

"You'll learn to love the taste, Alatus. Then their distraught expressions as you take from them."  Then the god dismissed himself from the room leaving Xiao to stare brokenly at the corpse before him.

Xiao's nose scrunched up in anger while his stomach flipped with displeasure.  He hated this god.  He hated him.  'You're wrong, I could never,' he wanted to protest, 'I could never be like you,' but his stomach twisted in self-disgust.  A part of him did enjoy it, if even by the smallest amount, and it made him hate himself even more.

If killing the child broke him, then devouring, tasting, and seeing the child's dreams devastated him.  They consisted of the child with his parents living together again.  Smiling, laughing.  No sign of torture, only peace.  Something pure and loving, that he would never have again nor will Xiao ever get the chance to experience.

Just as that child died, so too did Xiao's remaining innocence.

Years passed, and what once was a kind-hearted adeptus was now a cold-blooded killing machine.  Slaying gods left and right, increasing the death toll in the honor of his wretched master until a major war broke out throughout Teyvat.  That was when he saw fear in his master's eyes for the first time--the threat of his domain being overthrown loomed heavily over his head. Though Xiao felt a sense of hope, it was quickly shattered when he was once again put to work.

It was one gloomy day during the Archon War when he and his master were confronted by Morax.  They tag-teamed the god, but the master was quickly slain while Xiao was trapped between a few pillars summoned by the god of geo. The master's blood spilled onto the grass and he felt his knees weaken with relief and trepidation.

Finally, he was free.  He sank to his knees and watched Morax approach him with a bloody spear.  He can die free.  Morax had other plans for him and welcomed his presence with open arms.  But the words that came out of his mouth did not belong to him.

"Xiao, can you...hear me?"  The voice that came from Morax was heavily distorted and high-pitched.  "Please..."

"That's not part of this memory," Xiao, now aware that he was dreaming, spoke out.  "Who's calling me?"

"Please don't die!"  Why was it suddenly hard to breathe, and what was this grief and anger washing over him suddenly?

"P-please don't die!"  I have to go back for him.  He can't--  You stumbled forward through the snow, still hesitant on whether to follow Zhongli's trail or make your way back to the palace rubble.  It was only a moment's hesitance, though--you were already making a beeline for the palace and making a point to avoid Childe's fight by the time you realized what you were doing.  It wasn't long until your wounds and exhaustion caught up to you about halfway back to the palace.  You force yourself to continue on all-fours for a little ways, but your fingers were growing numb from the cold now that you lacked a vision.  "Rex Lapis, please, I can't--I need to reach--"  Wait.  The wind can carry me, can't it?  You tried despite the growing pain in your stomach.  It barely lifted you off the snow, but it was something.  You can do this.  It's just another mile or so.  

But just as your body was lifted from the ground, something grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and lifted you higher into the air like an animal carries it's offspring.  "It seems I cannot dissuade you from running back to danger."

"Z-Zhongli?" You winced, and your hand pressing tighter against your side.

"You're injured!"  Aether immediately moved to inspect the wound, but you swatted him away just as Zhongli set you back on your feet.  "Were you able to defeat Scaramouche?"

"I'm fine, it's not fatal--I think."  Your gaze swept across your companions' faces.  "...Childe intervened and is fighting him now."

"Wait, Childe betrayed the Tsaritsa?"  Paimon appeared out of thin air after hearing this.  "Why the heck would he do that? And now of all times?!"

"Perhaps it's best we save the questions for later," prompted Zhongli.  This may as well be some form of apology for the harbinger's actions against you and the rest of the group; he hinted a possible alliance when Zhongli confronted him above the harbor after the Lantern Rite ended.  Regardless of the intent, they need to take advantage of the time they were given now.

"Either way, I don't care.  I'm not leaving Xiao.  You all came to rescue me, but I refuse to have my life traded for one of yours."

"That much is clear," the consultant let out a heavy sigh, but there was a certain fondness and respect in his eyes as he looked at you.  "Very well.  But as soon as we recover him, we leave immediately.  No more impulsive decisions."

"Yes sir."

"I too have begun to suspect all is not well," he murmured thoughtfully, but you couldn't quite hear him.  "Do not push yourself further, I'll carry you."

"Wha--? Ah!"

The palace was a literal heap of smoking rubble.  Not a pillar was left standing.  Whatever fires may have started were immediately smothered by the snow, leaving ominous black pillars of smoke that didn't have an origin.  The silence was overwhelming despite being filled by the wet shoes that crunched in the snow.  By the looks of it, not a single agent survived the fall.  How would they? For humans are but fragile creatures incapable of healing themselves unless they had the specific power to do so.

Paimon frantically flew over the rocks and columns ahead of the group.  "The mess goes on and on! Where would we even start?"

"We should split up to cover more ground."

"But what if the Tsaritsa reappears?"

"I doubt she will be in a fighting condition after facing Xiao.  Paimon and I will start here.  Aether, would you two search to your right?"

"Sounds like a plan."  The traveler joined your side while throwing your arm over his shoulder to assist you.  You weren't looking too hot; your skin was pale but it was unknown whether it was more from the cold or from your injury.  "Leave the heavy lifting to me, alright?  Don't push yourself too much."

"Xiao's always pushed himself to protect me.  It's time I do the same for him."

A wry grin lifted the corners of Aether's lips.  "That might be true, but he's more equipped to handle it don't you think?"  He escorted you to a suspiciously large pile of rubble.  "Wait here.  I'm going to use Elemental Sight to see if I can locate him."

"Elemental Sight?"

"Oh...right...you never learned how to do that since you haven't held a vision for long," an awkward laugh escaped Aether as he began pushing boulders away from the pile.  "I'll tell you about it after this is over."  The elemental traces left behind were crowded with a mix of cryo and anemo energy, which made it difficult to decipher the strongest trail that Xiao left behind.

"...What'll we even do once we find him?  Where would we go?  The Tsaritsa wouldn't just give up on hunting us down."  Your palms pressed against the next boulder and it tumbled unceremoniously into the snow.  Then they gripped the next one, and your shoe needed to push against it for it to budge.

Aether didn't answer at first and the two of you removed several chunks of the wreckage over several minutes.  Then he used his Elemental Sight again and scanned the area.  "I was actually talking to Zhongli about that after we left Scaramouche to you.  I was gifted a Serenitea Pot a few days after you joined the Fatui; it's an adeptal realm only I or those I invite can access."  Aether's gaze hovered over a spot and his brows furrowed with concentration.  "The two of you can stay in there until the situation calms--There."

"Huh?"  You followed his line of sight but didn't see anything.  "What's there?"

"He's very close.  Hey, Zhongli! Paimon! Over here!"

"Did you find him?"  Paimon beat Zhongli to the punch and worriedly scanned the surrounding area.  

"I think he's trapped back here.  Zhongli...?"

"Allow me."  The boulders of rubble carefully rose away from the pile one by one to prevent any possible cave-ins that could injure Xiao.  He must've removed at least twenty chunks from the debris before a small cavern was revealed.

"--wake up!  Xiao!"  The ringing in the yaksha's ears finally faded until a girl's voice filled its place.  Slowly, his drowsy eyelids opened to see a blurry figure stare down at him.  Despite his unfocused gaze his reflexes were as quick as they always were.  A flash of silver nearly slashed at your neck, but a golden shield erupted around you and Xiao's polearm bounced off.  You were unfazed.  "It's alright.  You're safe now."  A numb hand was placed against his cheek.

Zhongli stared thoughtfully at the boulder that sat on Xiao's abdomen and stained his clothes red.  "Aether, can you grab a few handfuls of snow?"  

"Yeah.  I'll be right back."  Paimon glanced at the two of them before flying after Aether.

"Don't do the stupid thing and move yet," you nagged once you finally caught sight of the blood.  

Something between a pained groan and a scoff left his lips.  'Don't do the stupid thing?'  Who do you think you're talking to?  "You're one to talk," his gaze grazed over your side, where the snow you had pressed against your body was melting and soaked with blood.  "...Here.  Put more pressure like this."  Despite being pinned, his heavy arm lifted enough to push against your skin.

"I would do the same to you, but your injuries are more extensive--"

"Yes, it would be wise to refrain from doing anything until Aether returns."  Zhongli knelt on the other side of the yaksha, his gloved hand ghosting over the boulder.  "I may have a solution, though it depends entirely on the presence of those Aether has authorized to enter his teapot..."

"Okay, do you think this should be enough?" The traveller entered the cramped cavern once again with an armful of clean snow and his scarf removed.  "We can tie this around his waist so the bleeding slows down--"

"Aether," Zhongli turned to him.  "Have you by chance invited a healer to your Serenitea Pot?"

"...Yes, actually.  You're thinking I bring them here?"

"The opposite; I want you to enter your teapot now and see if they're taking residence at the moment.  If they are, we could potentially send these two into the teapot where the healer aid them."

"T-That's brilliant!"  Paimon immediately went to pull the Serenitea Pot out of Aether's bag.  "Paimon would've never thought of this! Quick, Traveler! Hurry up and go see if Bennett's inside!"

"Right!"  Aether handed the snow and scarf to Zhongli.  Then he opened the teapot and a vortex sucked him inward in an instant.

"It shouldn't take him long to return.  Quickly," he handed the scarf to you.  "I will lift the debris and place the snow on his injury.  While I do that, tightly wrap the scarf around his abdomen.  Ready?"

"Y-yes."  Xiao looked displeased, but he nodded at you.

"One, two, three." The debris was easily lifted off of Xiao's body.  

You did your best to ignore the gruesome wound and the dark blood that had soaked into his clothes, carefully sliding the fabric beneath his back and tying it at his front.  A low grunt escaped Xiao when confronted with the sudden movements, but other than that he remained silent.

Aether was thrown out of the teapot and almost stumbled onto the three of you.  "Okay, he's inside! Give me your hands."

"Our hands?"  You and Xiao exchanged confused looks before returning your attention to Aether.  Despite the confusion both of you lifted one of your hands to him.

Aether pulled out what looked to be some sort of marker from his bag and drew a symbol on your palm, then Xiao's.  The symbols then glowed a bright gold before fading like they had never been on your skin in the first place.  Next, Aether tapped both palms twice.  "Okay.  You'll be able to enter the realm now.  All you have to do is tap your hand like I did."

"...A-Are you sure about this? Xiao's..."  He's not looking well anymore; he was still bleeding heavily from his stomach and blood was still dripping from a wound somewhere behind his hairline.  "This won't hurt him, will it?"

"Relax.  Bennett will be there to treat him the second you guys enter."  

You and Xiao simultaneously turned to Zhongli, who nodded in confirmation.  "Go now.  We will contact you once we're out of Snezhnaya."

"Okay.  Be careful."  It was your turn to look at Xiao, and both of you then brought your hands together to enter the realm.

Tap, tap.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Thank you for being there and making amazing AU’s

Take some of this

Also does anyone in the main trio of Las Nevadas AU experience panic attacks yet? My main bet is Fundy

AAA UR SO SWEET <333 and you're asking the important, angsty questions here, aren't you >:D

tw: panic attacks, dissociation, derealization, existential dread

/dsmp /rp

fundy does experience panic attacks, but i'd like to argue he experiences it the least out of the three, but not by that much. i say that fundy shuts down more than anything when he gets told off. his main trigger is when someone tells him that he isn't the person they thought he was, or just an ignorant comment about fundy's identity and how he's “changed”. more than anything, fundy dissociates rather than have a full-blown panic attack.

fundy only dissociates when he experiences a nightmare or is faced with an identity crisis. panic attacks can happen for anything else (but it still happens for the first two things mentioned, but much more seldom). if he's overstressed at work, or a pet dies, or he watches any familial issue unfold— that's when the panic attacks settle. fundy's panic attacks are messy, especially since he cries the most amongst the trio. his breaths are erratic, and because he applies heavy makeup from time to time, it smudges against his cheeks.

easy breathing tricks work though, and quackity and schlatt easily can help fundy with them since they're good at working together as long as it helps fundy. these two literally cannot cooperate unless fundy is in the picture, which fundy does tease about after the panic seizes. to be fair, it's easy to comfort fundy because he swoons from the simplest terms of endearment and comfort.

i'd say quackity and schlatt on the other hand have worse experiences with panic attacks. to start of with quackity, quackity loves to put a façade up in las nevadas a lot. he is a good actor, and sometimes, even fundy and schlatt can't tell if he's genuinely upset or not. it's difficult because quackity likes to withhold his negative emotions, but doesn't realize how much he's suppressing 'til it spills over when the smallest, negative thing happens.

from losing to a slot machine, to tripping in the sidewalk, to thinking that the music was too loud for his ears— quackity gets panic attacks a lot, and he gets them in the weirdest places possible. the main downside to this is that his main sources of comfort, fundy and schlatt, don't often witnessing him having these attacks. sure, when they do, they'd obviously help, but when quackity gets these attacks in the worst places possible.

so sometimes, he handles them alone. he tries to seep into the darkest spots possible and try to handle the attacks independently. sometimes, he'd try sneaking into bathrooms when they happen, and in these times, schlatt and fundy typically know q is having a panic attack. quackity tries to go to bathrooms less because he really doesn't like bothering the other two, especially in terms of comfort and venting, but of course, schlatt and fundy don't relent.

when quackity handles them in bathrooms, and the door is locked, it's schlatt who usually talks to him through the door. schlatt is way better at words of comfort than fundy, so fundy usually stays aside (or handles the casinos while q's gone), and schlatt does most of the talking. it does help— schlatt's words easily ground quackity back into reality because quackity's way of being comforted is... not easy. there are specific words he wants to hear, stories, instructions; and schlatt is the main one who can deliver it correctly.

besides schlatt and fundy, quackity also has had his fair shares of... other sources of comfort from other people. he's had at least one or two experiences with sam, jack, and charlie whenever he has attacks in the more obscure places. of course, they're not much of an expert at it as much as schlatt, but they have attempted helping. sam once found him next to the garbage outside of his bar, and sam sat by q. he did the typical five senses trick and tried asking quackity to remember certain fond memories of his. jack had a more... messy approach, but his tone was soft, and he tried his best to get quackity to do some breathing exercises. charlie was definitely similar to schlatt but with a bit more comedy and stutters. he doesn't really like showing his gratitude outright after the attacks, but he does raise their salaries and leave gifts for them when they don't expect it.

schlatt's panic attacks are more spontaneous. no build up required, no outside force needed to trigger a panic attack, but schlatt is an immense thinker. he thinks a lot when he's doing his job, he thinks a lot in his bed while sipping wine, he thinks a lot as he smokes next to fundy or quackity during their breaks and dayoffs. problem is, sometimes, he spirals too much downwards in his thoughts.

this is his version of limbo. he often gets haunted by intrusive thoughts of how he is deteriorating, how he won't be able to leave a mark on anyone's lives (especially his own), that he won't be able to achieve his purpose in life (as well as just. not be able to find a new purpose in life). it's frustrating, and he gets lost in thought so much, and there is always that one dark thought that will trigger the panic. sometimes, something tells him that his skin will keep flaking and his body will be reduced into a pile of disjointed bones. sometimes, something tells him that he isn't that flame of ambition that he used to be, and everyone would think of him as mundane and grey and lifeless. sometimes, something tells him that he's going to live as purposeless as ever, and he will slowly be devoid of any emotion or passion.

it's just those simple thoughts that will make his breath hitch. it's obvious when schlatt gets to this point because he visibly shifts and shakes, his eyes staring at nothing as it twitches. he would muster a whine or a groan and if he's with fundy or quackity, they immediately know what's up. he didn't necessarily tell them how these entire ordeals work, but quackity and fundy are analytical enough to understand how he gets to this point, so they don't question it. instead, they've learned to help him.

because quackity and fundy's presence alone does remind him that yes, his life still has a purpose. yes, he still has someone to care for. his life isn't meaningless, and these people he's with is telling him that yes, they still see something worthy in him.

quackity and fundy don't need to say much, but they are allowed to hold his palm or ruffle his hair and tell him that they're here, and they need him to breathe for them. he finds comfort in knowing that his safety means a lot to the other two.

they've also tried to develop a system which helps them inform each other on whether or not they have gotten a panic attack and need help. this was mostly for schlatt at first since he really needs other people's presence to get over with his attacks, but they've also implemented this for fundy and quackity because schlatt berates them on keeping their attacks a secret.

they basically need to send a comma in chat whenever they are experiencing a panic attack and need help. for quicker typing, they represent different places in las nevadas with certain digits so they wouldn't have to type out something long. for example, the main casino (which i now headcanon is the four casinos combined into one big casino after quackity remodelled it) is represented with a “$”, the hotel lobby is “G”, sam's bar is “&”, fundy's room is “f”, schlatt's is “s”, quackity's is “q”, and you get the gist.

for fundy's dissociation, it's difficult for fundy to type out stuff, so quackity always remembers to ask fundy how he's doing if he isn't seen at work. if fundy doesn't reply, that their cue to check how he's doing in his room. fundy makes it a habit as much as possible to reply to quackity when he isn't dissociating to make their system work.

[specterchasing-a]

Eddie Carridine & Dani Edwards

A first attempt at analyzing Eddie’s relationships.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Depression, suicidal ideations (in the form of disregard for their own lives), and generally heavy topics such as loneliness and death.

At first glance, Eddie and Dani don’t seem to have much in common. She’s a dedicated slayer with a strict code, someone who values the importance of supernatural secrecy above almost all else. He’s a loose-lipped kid with a camera, preaching about how wonderful supernatural beings are. Needless to say, they clash—hard, but dig a little deeper than surface level and these two have more in common than they might ever know.

SOCIAL LIVES

Dan’s moms kept her on a rigid training schedule with little room for interpersonal relationships to develop. Eddie’s parents, albeit with vastly different motivations behind their actions, tried their best to keep him quiet and obedient. As one would assume, this kinda fucked them both up in a major way. Neither is particularly well-versed in navigating social situations, though that disadvantage presents itself in different ways between them. Dani keeps her emotions to herself and prefers to keep people at arm’s length while Eddie throws himself at whoever shows him an ounce of kindness. Different, yet alike, you feel me?

VIEWS ON DEATH

As a slayer, Dani’s gift is death (sorry, not sorry, for the Buffy reference) and Eddie, being a medium, has been surrounded by death since childhood. They cope with grief in different ways but both view death as something inevitable, maybe they even think that’s a good thing. Dani’s purpose is to die for the sake of humanity. If she doesn’t, she’s a failure. Eddie believes he doesn’t have a purpose outside of shepherding the dead and exposing the truth. Beyond that, he’s just a corpse waiting to happen. Neither Dani or Eddie view death as something to be afraid of. It is what it is, and it’ll probably come sooner rather than later.

STUBBORNNESS 

Yes, Eddie and Dani hold directly opposing views on the subject of supernatural secrecy but, more than that, they’re both assholes about it in the same way. When they first reunited at the grocery store and Dani saved Eddie’s life, Eddie blew up at her. He told her exactly what he thought and didn’t pull punches. It was not the first time Dani had been assaulted with narrow-minded stupidity and probably wouldn’t be the last. Initially, she bit back as she asserted her own views. Neither listened to the other, not really. Both of them were dead-set on believing the other was wrong, leaving no room for growth or understanding. They were like two unfortunately similar magnets pushing each other away.

IDEALS

Another instance of Dani and Eddie being alike, yet different can be seen in what motivates their actions. Clearly, they go about things with oppositional methods, but they are both driven by a need to make the world a safer place. Dani, rough-n-tough slayer that she is, is more interested in protecting humans and ridding the world of supernatural threats. By doing her job, she literally makes the streets of White Crest safer for its squishy, mortal  inhabitants. Eddie, on the other hand, wants the world to be safer for supernatural beings. He sees them as outcasts with targets on their backs, bogged down by unwarranted prejudices and falsely spun bad reputations. In his idea of utopia we’d all hold hands while we sing ‘We Are The World’ and outgrow things like murder and human sacrifice. If you ask me, neither of them have realistic expectations for how the world should treat supernaturals, but what matters is that they firmly believe they’ve got it all figured out and that the rest of the population needs to catch up with their massive brains. I realize this echoes a lot of what I said about their stubbornness but this is my impassioned rant about two idiots and I’ll be redundant if I want to.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

Dani, considering she was raised to be a murder machine with a quickly approaching expiration date, doesn’t see love as a possibility for herself. For other people? Sure, but such luxuries shouldn’t be wasted on someone with a terminal birthright. Eddie, though this is quickly changing in lieu of his budding relationship with Alfie, never saw himself as someone who would fall in love either. Because of repression and guilt, he wanted to be right, too. Romantic love, whatever shape it took, was wonderful for everyone else. Let them fall into each other’s arms and make five-year plans together, Eddie would keep himself busy memorizing gravestones. Love scared him, so he left it alone. From what I can tell, Dani’s not scared of love—it’s just inconceivable to think she might experience it. Still, recent growth on Eddie’s part aside, they used to both be resigned to going through life alone.

LONELINESS

Okay, yeah, they’re resigned to going through life alone but, unfortunately for them, human beings are social creatures. Dani, I believe, might not always be aware of how much she needs other people but, at times, she reads as an exceptionally lonely character. On dash, characters have reached out to her after crises and her initial responses were always heartfelt and, most importantly, crossed out. Her first instinct is to show affection and concern because she does, in fact, know on some level that she needs people in her life but… that’s not supposed to be in the cards for her. Dani shelves her unfeigned distress in favor of lukewarm receptions. Some exceptions might be with Athena or a few other characters at times but, for the most part, Dani tends to isolate herself.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Eddie. If someone says so much as one nice thing about him, he’s prepared to commit atrocities in their name. He’s not shy about it, either. He loves deeply and without prejudice. Recently, people have shown up in his life that give him countless chances to show-off how much devotion spills out of his heart on a daily basis. But it wasn’t always like that. For most of Eddie’s life, the majority of people he met made him feel like a freak. High school was hell for him, not that he’s unique for that. His fellow students tormented and ostracized him, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and he struggled for a long-time trying to figure out how to love himself when no one else seemed to. That particular obstacle is still an issue but it’s thankfully becoming more manageable. However, even with new friends and old relationships being galvanized, it’s hard for him to believe the past won’t infect the present and future. Yesterday’s heartache comes back to him in aftershocks of loneliness and fear. No matter what, Eddie cannot  completely escape feeling alone. So, he and Dani sadly have that in common as well.

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15

if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own

Chapter Fourteen

This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.

In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.

tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication

Word Count: 4K

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)

AARON

"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson

Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.

He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.

With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.

“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”

Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”

He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”

“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.

“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”

Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”

“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”

Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”

They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.

By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.

“He’s still asleep?”

He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.

“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”

He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.

“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.

He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”

“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”

“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”

Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”

Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.

“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.

Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.

Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.

Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.

“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.

After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.

“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”

Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.

Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.

Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.

Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.

He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”

To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.

“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.

Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”

“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”

Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.

“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”

Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”

At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.

“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.

Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”

��But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”

At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”

Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.

Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”

“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”

“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.

He smiles. “I mean it.”

“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Without a doubt.”

Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.

“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.

He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.

He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.

They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.

“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.

“What?”

“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”

She pouts. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”

He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.

They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.

Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.

When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.

“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”

Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.

Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”

Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.

“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”

Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.

“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”

“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”

Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.

“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”

“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”

Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.

“Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”

Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.

“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”

“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.

He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.

“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.

Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”

“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”

He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”

She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter Sixteen

Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @anxious-enby (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 17

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.4k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Henry’s life is slowly but surely becoming what he originally wanted. He adopted Vanessa a few weeks ago and he never thought he could be so emotional. He cried while he had to sign the papers, he cried the entire way back to the car, to a point where Olivia decided it would be best if she drove back to his parents’ place. He sat in the back of the car, right next to Vanessa, who wasn’t crying, but went out of her way to comfort him. He was just so happy that it was official now.

If—God forbids—something happen to Olivia, Vanessa goes right to him. They don’t have to bother with that low life of a Wesley, she is going right to him. They even changed their will. If something happens to the both of them, Vanessa goes to his family.

But right now Olivia is officially thirteen weeks pregnant and it’s getting harder and harder now to hide her belly. Since she is out of her first trimester, she is been feeling a lot better. She told him that during her pregnancy with Vanessa, she puked quite a lot, but that was nothing compared to how she is feeling with this baby.

But right now, her glow is mesmerizing. She was always beautiful, but seeing her in her underwear before she trows on his shirt at night, he realizes that she is a whole different kind of breathtaking now. After she steps into the bed, he lays behind her, wraps his arm around her waist and sneaks a hand under her shirt. He loves feeling her tiny bump. It’s still beyond him that this is happening, that they’ve created an already beautiful human. He cannot wait to see the more definite changes of her body, the further she gets into this pregnancy.

It’s Friday and they are waiting for Vanessa to walk out of the school. Henry wraps his fingers around her hand and pulls Olivia closer to his body. The weather is getting nicer and nicer, making it even harder for her to hide her little bump. She opted for a pretty midi skirt with a large shirt over it, that doesn’t show anything yet.

Today they are not only going to tell Vanessa about the baby when they are at home, but they are going to tell his entire family, since they are having a little dinner at his mom’s. The school bell rings and it doesn’t take long, before Vanessa rushes out of the school. Thankfully she has adopted a new normal by jumping into Henry’s arms, instead of Olivia’s, like she used to do. She presses tons of kisses on his cheeks, before she leans down to give Olivia a kiss.

Keeping this a secret has been the hardest thing, especially since Henry wants to share this with everyone.

‘Ready to go home, sunshine?’ Henry asks her and she nods. While he carries her to the car, she keeps on talking about how wonderful school was. Though he doesn’t quite understand that she likes school this much (especially with the witch that calls herself miss Sue in front of the class), he likes her stories. He could listen to her for hours on end and not be bored for a second.

Henry helps his official daughter in her carseat and while he drives back home, he holds Olivia’s hand. Once they are home, Olivia pulls Vanessa with her and the two of them sit on the couch.

He leans against the doorframe, wanting to see everything that is going to happen, but also allowing them to experience this. He might be officially Vanessa’s dad now, it’ll take a long time before they will have the bond that Vanessa has with her mother. Their bond is so tight, it’s mesmerizing. ‘Vanessa, sweetheart,’ Olivia says, ‘I have something to tell you.’

Vanessa looks at her mom with a frown between her brows. ‘Okay… What is it, mommy?’

Olivia takes Vanessa’s hand and places it onto her stomach. ‘Mommy is growing a baby in her stomach right now,’ she says in a soft voice. ‘And that means you are going to be a big sister.’

Henry had looked online on how to tell your kids that they are going to be a brother or sister. He saw all those sweet and funny videos online, with cakes, balloons and other stuff, but when he showed Olivia, she simply frowned and said that she just wants to tell Vanessa.

And now when he sees this moment happening in front of his eyes, he knows damn well that it shouldn’t happen any other way than this one.

Vanessa’s eyes light up, as her hand rests on Olivia’s bump. ‘I’m going to be a big sister?’ she asks, just in case.

‘Yes, sweetheart.’

And for the first time since he met Vanessa, she is crying happy tears. They drip over her cheeks, yet a smile is evident on her face. ‘I’m doing the happy tears thing,’ she sniffles.

‘Oh sweetie,’ Olivia says, a few tears in her eyes as well. She pulls her daughter closer to her body and presses kisses on her cheek. She ushers Henry over and he walks over to his two favorite girls.

He takes place on the other side of Olivia and looks at the two of them and he can’t hide his smile.

‘Daddy,’ Vanessa says, looking up, ‘I’m going to be a big sister.’

He wipes the tears from her face. ‘I know, sunshine. You are going to be a wonderful sister,’ he tells her.

She takes his hand from her face and places it on Olivia’s bump, just like her own. ‘Are we going to tell grandma, grandpa and everyone today?’

‘We are,’ Olivia says, stroking through the soft hairs of Vanessa.

‘We do have to tell you something,’ he says to Vanessa.

‘And what’s that?’

He clears his throat. He really wants to tell her this, because he thinks it’s important. He talked about this with Olivia and she agreed to it. ‘We love you so much and we always will, sunshine, but you have to know that a new baby is hard work. Both me and your mom will be pretty tired. There is also a chance that we will not have as much time for you as we usually have.’

Vanessa nods. ‘I know,’ she tells him. ‘Bettie’s mom is usually pretty tired too, when she is pregnant and when she just had a new baby. I can help around the house and otherwise, I can sleep at grandma’s place. I think she and grandpa want to babysit, so you can maybe sleep in.

How is he going to be an excellent father, if Olivia has managed to do this by herself? He is so lucky that this amazing woman is going to be the mother of their kids.

‘Then we have nothing to worry about,’ Olivia chuckles, kissing Vanessa’s cheek. ‘You are such an angel.’

Vanessa smiles. ‘So when is this baby going to be born? Bettie’s mom always knows, but she said something about a flu date?’

Olivia chuckles. ‘Due date, sweetheart. The doctor can guess a little bit. So the due date for this baby is the twenty first of November.’

‘That’s near my birthday.’ She smiles even brighter than before. ‘I kind of hope that the baby will be born on my birthday. That means we are going to have an even bigger party.’ Vanessa looks at Olivia’s stomach and asks: ‘When do we know if it’s a boy or girl?’

‘Somewhere in August,’ Henry says.

‘How can they know?’

Olivia gestures that she should stay put, as she walks over to her purse. ‘The doctors have a machine and what that one basically does is that it can make pictures from what’s inside my stomach.’

‘Oh,’ Vanessa says, ‘like the pictures daddy makes?’

Olivia chuckles. ‘Absolutely not.’ She plops back on the couch and shows Vanessa the picture of the ultrasound.

‘I don’t get it. There is nothing on here.’

Henry places his arm on the back of the couch and explains: ‘This little bean right here,’—he points to the same spot that the doctor showed him, because if he is being fair, he can’t see it—‘is your brother or sister and when we go back there in August, the baby is a little bigger. Right now he or she is as big as… what was it again, sweetheart?’

‘A lemon, so there isn’t much to see yet.’

Vanessa nods. ‘When you go to the doctor to see if I get a baby brother or sister, can I come with you?’

Olivia nods. ‘Of course you can,’ she says.

Vanessa leans down, pushes up her mom’s shirt, as she whispers against the tiny bump: ‘When you are older, you and I are going to eat chocolates at night, but don’t tell mommy and daddy, because I don’t think they’ll allow it.’

≫≫≪≪

Henry is insanely nervous for meeting his family. He knows that they will love it, he is absolutely sure of that. Though it doesn’t stop him from being nervous though. His family definitely knows how babies are made, but exposing the fact that they have been having sex and now she is pregnant…

He holds onto Olivia’s hand so tightly, that she has to whisper that he needs to chill, because he is hurting her.

And he never wants to do that of course.

Olivia came with the idea to involve Vanessa in the reveal to his family and he honestly couldn’t agree more. Vanessa was and will always be his first baby and she means the absolute world to him. The fact that she was already thinking about how she is going to be the best daughter in the world to them, how she is going to help not only her mom, but also himself out whenever she can, speaks volumes about how she is going to handle this big sister thing.

They walk around the house, to enter the garden and everyone seems to be totally happy that they have finally arrived. Vanessa continues to look at Olivia, waiting for the right moment. ‘Everybody,’ Olivia finally says. ‘Our little Vanessa has a little surprise.’

‘Little princess, what you got?’ Charlie says.

She unzips her vest and shows everyone her shirt. ‘I’m going to be a— Oh my God!’ Belle screams, running towards Olivia. The rest is further away from Vanessa, so they haven’t even read it yet, by the time Belle has pulled Olivia in a hug. ‘I’m so happy for you, babe.’

Henry watches as the rest of the family has yet to catch on, but his mother is the first to notice. She starts to tear up and Henry quickly walks over to her, to engulf her into a tight hug.

While his brothers and father are the first to congratulate Vanessa, giving her big hugs and saying how she is going to be such an amazing big sister, he hears his mother sniffle: ‘This is wonderful news, my dear.’

Since he officially adopted Vanessa, he realized that his mother was finally getting what she wanted. A big family, where she would be the grandma of the entire clan, a role that she had been wanting ever since his brothers and he reached the age of twenty. She never pushed them to get married and to have kids, but now she is finally getting the larger family she always wanted. It’s long overdue.

The fact that Olivia already had a wonderful daughter and him being really serious about having kids, made it easier for them to get pregnant, though it wasn’t necessarily planned. A couple like Simon and Belle are not even thinking about children. Well, they are, as in: we don’t want them right now.

After everyone gave him one hug, Vanessa at least two and Olivia a big hug and a kiss on her cheek, he can finally stand next to his beautiful girlfriend again. ‘Can I?’ he asks, letting his hand hover over her stomach.

‘You can always do that,’ she whispers, pressing a kiss on his jaw.

He gently places his hand on her tiny bump and she places her hand on top of his. ‘God, you are so amazing,’ he chuckles.

‘Don’t forget to give yourself credit, Henry,’ she says. ‘Remember, you are going to be a wonderful father, I just know it. You have already proven how much of an excellent dad you are with Vanessa.’

‘Can I take you with me for just a second?’ he asks, looking over at how Piers and Niki are showing off their football skills, though Vanessa doesn’t seem impressed at all.

Henry carefully pulls Olivia with him, until they are inside. He clears his throat and asks: ‘Should I share this with my fans?’ It has been a question that has been running through his thoughts for quite a while now.

Since he met Olivia, he posted pictures of course. After he first met her, he took a picture of Kal on the couch, looking a little sad and he wrote in the caption: Thanks to the greatest veterinarian who did pick up at three in the morning, Kal is all okay now after he vomited over my new carpet, though I was informed that he was kinda fat, so I have to work on that.

After that he posted pictures of Kal, of the Christmas tree and the cookies that he attempted to make for them. But he kept both of them out of the picture and since Valentines Day, he didn’t post anything.

Olivia smiles before she nods. ‘You can, as long as my face or Vanessa’s isn’t splattered on the news.’

Henry scoffs. ‘You think I’d allow that?’ He leans in to press a kiss on her forehead. ‘I just feel like I should tell them that we are expecting.’

‘You should tell the whole story,’ she tells him, grabbing his hands. ‘That you have a girlfriend, adopted Vanessa and that we are expecting.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks. ‘I mean, I know that you two didn’t ask to be in the spotlights like that and I don’t want to force it on you.’

She pulls him closer and gives him a long kiss on his lips. ‘I am one hundred percent sure, sweetheart.’

≫≫≪≪

girlygirlx2: OH MY GOD?!?! THIS IS SO FUCKING UNEXPECTED!!!

kieralee: sooooo, we are getting Dad!Henry content? because i’m up for it!!!!

julia5487: hold up… he adopted someones kid and now they are having a kid on their own? wth happened?

muziarealm: I really want to see the lucky ass lady who is giving him babies.

kittycat421: OMG THIS IS SO AWESOME?!?!?!?!?!?!

ursula_9903: HOLY CRAP!!!!!! congratulations are in order!!!

[lovelyirony]

 cosmetology anon: this is for you, although I tweaked the idea a bit. i hope you don’t mind! 

Acquiring Tony Stark as an Asset had been purely by chance; after all, he wasn’t planned on being in the car. He was still an insolent teenager, angry with the world and angry with his father. They didn’t think he would’ve gone to a business party. 

But his mother...well. They hadn’t thought that Tony Stark was a mama’s boy. 

Because there Tony is, gasping for air while glass glitters all around him, looking near about like an angel that was torn from heaven with how it surrounded him. 

They had thought he was dead.  

At least, up until the point when he had looked Winter Soldier dead in the eye, said “hey you fucking asshole” and got a pretty damn good shot in the thigh. 

Someone on the brink of death might have tried the gun, but never the insult. 

So Hydra gets a brand new toy. 

Not easily broken, which is a pain-and-a-half to deal with. At least with the Winter Soldier, he was too delirious with blood loss to notice who was operating on him, what they were attaching. 

Tony Stark is on a whole other level. 

He bites, he kicks, he scratches. Quite annoying, they just want him to tire himself out. 

“Stark Industries doesn’t negotiate,” he hisses, trying to kick one of the nurses in the teeth. 

“Who said anything about negotiating?” says the head doctor viciously. His teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting, scalpels reflecting brilliantly onto the walls. “As far as the media knows, you’re dead. No one is going to come looking, and no one even knows who we are.” 

They make him sleep on a cot nearby Winter Soldier. Which is terrifying, to say the least. Not that he can kill him. He can’t touch him either. 

He’s in a deep freezer. Eyes closed, thank god. But they put him there and they tell him all about how he came to be there. 

“Everyone thought Barnes hit a rock and died,” one of the techs says, checking the machine. “He nearly did, but Zola helped us fix him up. Course, that was after a couple of times where he got to someone’s neck, and that was even before programming.” 

“Programming?” 

The tech leers at him, grinning. He’s standing, Tony’s sitting. It shouldn’t be as intimidating as it is. 

“Oh yeah, Stark. They’re gonna fix you all up.” 

“I don’t need fixing.” 

“Tell that to Winter Soldier.” 

“And what if your little machine gets rid of me, hm? Kills me?” 

“We add you to the other disappointments, or we dig a shallow grave and hope you’re found decades later.” 

Not exactly promising. 

But here’s the thing: the tech was wrong. They won’t add him to the pile of disappointments. 

The last time he went to a therapy appointment, his therapist said he had a “deep-seated need to be liked and be useful, which could be dangerous later.” 

He’s assuming that Doc Chesterfield wasn’t exactly expecting Tony to be in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Murder Machine, but Doc wasn’t really the kind of guy who was “in the know” about a lot of things. 

That need to be liked and useful was about to come in handy.  

Barely able to legally drink, he goes to the main doctor in charge. “You need me.” 

The doctor looks at him incredulously. 

“You think we need a kid to do all this shit? You think we haven’t figured it out?” 

“You can’t have Barnes-” 

“Winter Soldier, boy.” 

“Fine, your little toy soldier. You can’t keep him out longer than necessary, otherwise his brain realizes that all of you are shitty and tries to break out. Again. You need someone else to take a look at it, and I’m the best bet you got.” 

“And why would that be?” 

Tony grins, and they see a shadow of what he has had in his life, exactly just who he used to be. Who he still is, at the moment. 

“Whether you want to admit it or not--I’d say go ahead and admit it, I’m fun like that--I’m the smartest one in the room, maybe in the country. Maybe in two countries. I could swing the UK, it’s not like they’ve had anything interesting for the last hundred or so years--” 

“Get to the point,” the handler hisses. 

“I can help with arm maintenance. I’m not gonna do anything else to this poor guy, but I wanna stay alive and I’m not letting you erase my fucking mind because you want to have another toy soldier to march to your drum.” 

“You almost make a compelling case,” the handler says. “We do need a mechanic on the arm, so to speak. But if he only comes out when we need him...well. Maintenance is manageable.” 

Tony pushes his chin out. 

“I can do better than your best.” 

“Unfortunately, I don’t care. You’re too big of a liability.” 

It is at this moment that Tony realizes he cannot talk his way out, or fight his way out, but damn he gets a scalpel and tries. 

Manages to slice across the face of the handler. Nerve damage, tissue damage, quite potentially a very ugly nose. All very nice. 

That gets him moved up by a month. 

They send him to a chair that’s probably a lot worse than he’s imagining, give him a mouth guard, and tell him to scream all he likes. Sometimes it’s better to not have a voice later. 

They say it like they’re quoting one of those shitty articles from Cosmopolitan that discusses the top forty-five best ways to move in the bedroom or something. He and Rhodey use to read it all the time whenever they visited one of the sororities. 

(He misses Rhodey, more than words can say. The tears burn in his throat as the chair powers up, but he doesn’t dare cry. He hasn’t told them about Rhodey, and he doesn’t want him used against him. 

He doesn’t want to be used against Rhodey.) 

- 

Tony Stark becomes the Mechanic. He stares too long, moves a bit slow at times, and doesn’t like people touching his things. 

Hydra thinks it’s a success. 

-

Tony thinks they should’ve done more than three sessions of go-round for their little buzzy-chair. 

-

Just god, have none of them had to act before? Is that what this is? 

So long as he doesn’t show any aspect of any real personality, they think he’s a walking-talking robot. 

Should’ve just called him Chatty Cathy and attached a pull-string to his back with loadable phrases if they were just gonna call him the Mechanic and think his silence and weird staring habits were fine. 

Winter Soldier needs maintenance. 

Tony tries very carefully to keep his persona up. He thinks he’s doing a good job until the nurse leaves the room for her smoke-break and Winter Soldier gives him a look that’s so...different. 

"They think you’re like me.” 

“I am.” 

“No.” 

“And how can you tell?” 

“You’re not hurting my arm.” 

“Well I can, if you wanna be a masochist about it.” 

He blankly stares. 

“Why didn’t it work?” 

“Not enough rounds.” 

“We need to stop talking or they’ll watch the cameras.” 

“Got it.” 

Tony is not facing the cameras. They have no suspicion now, and if they can’t see him move his lips, then there’s no worry. 

He faces Winter Soldier. 

“You wanna get out of here? Tap once on your left, right on my thigh for yes. Twice for no.” 

Tap. 

There it is. 

“Well, it’ll take time. You okay with that?” 

Tap tap. 

“I can’t make wishes come true,” Tony says sarcastically. Soldier hides a smile. “But. I have someone who might be looking for me. Or he’ll know it’s me.” 

“A friend?” 

“Something better. Family.” 

It takes a little while. Despite Hydra’s incompetence at programming Tony out of his own system, they’re good at watching. They’re good at sniffing out undercover plans, so they set nurses to watch him and give him the worst food in his life. 

And he can’t say anything about it. 

They’re probably rations leftover from World War II, and here he is, pretending like it doesn’t bother him. 

The first mission they’re out on, Tony wants so badly to break free. It looks too easy, probably because it is. 

“The first time I escaped, they dragged me back and nearly gave me a matching leg to go with the arm,” Soldier murmurs in Russian. 

(Tony’s had to take Russian classes. God, he’s lucky he has an eidetic memory otherwise he’d be up a paddle with a slotted spoon.) 

“What, didn’t want to put more value on yourself?” 

“Something like that,” Soldier says grimly. “Pay attention. They’re gonna put you in a cafe, have you run surveillance. You report back to me. Call me Winter.” 

“Call me Mechanic.” 

“That’s the name they chose?” 

“Didn’t count my vote.” 

Winter snorts. 

“Time to get a move on.” 

Tony has never been good at hiding his emotions, but by god he’s learning on the fly. At least Winter has a mask, and they’re...well, they’re working on one for him. 

It’s not exactly priority, because everyone in the world thinks he’s dead. 

- 

Well. Shouldn’t say everyone. There is one guy who has decided that Tony didn’t die. 

James Rhodes is a very smart guy, graduated top of his class at MIT and has full honors. 

He also knows that Tony has fallen off of beds, out of chairs, down one flight of stairs, and tripped on just about everything. 

And he’s lived. He has defied near-death experiences before, and he’s been fine. 

Maybe Rhodey is crazy. He most likely is. 

But he doesn’t mind being crazy if no one can actually confirm that Tony died. The funeral was closed for the family, not even Rhodey could go. 

“Sorry kiddo,” Obie had said, not sorry at all. He’s never liked the kid, thought him too blunt about situations that he didn’t need to be blunt about. 

So Rhodey thinks that this is a conspiracy, only he doesn’t want his best friend to end up on a YouTube video five years later talking about the “tragic disappearance” and how “no one could figure it out.” 

He’s James fucking Rhodes. Sometimes goes by Rhodey. And he’s got this. 

- 

Winter Soldier does not “got this.” He is currently being thrown against a wall, and grunting as he looks at the target. 

Tony is currently trying very hard not to have a full-blown emotional show-off, because he is supposed to be fixing up some of the weapons and sending them out. 

It is rather stress-inducing, once you start thinking about it. 

He tries not to. 

God, he’s not even getting pizza after that. He’s probably going to get some bullshit like a vanilla nutritional protein shake. 

Out everything he’s been put through, and that’s the thing that makes him retch.

 - 

Barnes is looking...rough. He got shoved a lot, the mission didn’t exactly go to plan, which turns out to be quite the large problem. 

Because Tony took over. They found out that he can actually assemble weaponry and aim with nearly-one-hundred-percent accuracy. 

They think it’s because they fried his brain and injected some sort of back-alley-serum. 

It’s not. 

He’s not even sure if their serum worked, if he’s being completely honest.

But this? Oh god. 

The doctors look at him with an almost giddy joy. 

“We’ll have Soldier train you.” 

"He is not going back into the cryogenic chambers?” 

“No, not...not until you prove yourself.” 

“I have proven myself accurate with mechanical fixes.” 

“Always best to diversify your skills.” 

“Expand.” 

(Tony’s been messing with them a lot. They’re not positive he knows advanced vocabulary. He does, he just hates them.) 

Barnes is...not exactly excited that he’s not becoming an ice-pop. 

“I’m...training you?” 

“Yeah, looks like it. You wanna teach me how to choke someone with my thighs?” 

“Only when they send the Widows.” 

“Who are they?” 

“Best damned assassins you’ll ever have the displeasure of experiencing.” 

“Aw, you’re learning how to curse!” 

“Shut up, they’re onto us.” 

- 

Winter Soldier and the Mechanic have a...cordial relationship. At least, out of the ring. 

In the ring, they don’t rather like the other that much. Mechanic much prefers to avoid Soldier at all times. 

“You can’t just run from every opponent,” Winter hisses. 

“You’ve been doing it since 1948,” Tony responds in a robotic tone, nearly missing a kick to the shins. “I don’t see why not.” 

He smiles at that one, looking at Tony. 

He was...Tony was unique. He would whisper stories in the dead of night, mostly about a man named Jarvis and a boy his age named “Rhodey.” 

“His parents...they didn’t actually name him that, did they?” 

Tony has to bury his face in his pillow to hide his face from laughing. 

Winter got a good look at that smile. 

It’s chillingly nice to look at it, and maybe that’s because he hasn’t smiled in years, or maybe it’s because he’s never seen another person smile with joy in it for decades. 

- 

For a couple more months, nothing on their side happens. 

Rhodey, however, learns how to use Tony’s homemade AI for illegal purposes! 

He’s figured out lots of things. 

Tony was never confirmed dead. Technically, he’s a missing person. 

Which means they don’t know if he’s dead because they never found him. 

Secondly, there’s a strange email to someone who goes by Zola. 

Well, Rhodey and Tony didn’t stay up until three a.m. to solve impossible codes for nothing. 

James Rhodes figures out that the Winter Soldier isn’t some whispered about myth, and so he decides to try and find him. 

He’ll need to ask Mama if he can use the sedan, but it should be fine. After all, he has a friend to find. 

- 

Hydra is getting too used to having them out. Tony’s been coaching Barnes on not letting his reactions be at the front and center. 

He’s remembering a lot more. Starting to become a bit more human-like. 

He actually doesn’t like the food now, which is a tasteful improvement. 

“When we get out,” Tony whispers in night. “I’m going to make sure that you get the best goddamned pizza the earth has ever seen. And we’ll celebrate your birthday.” 

“When is my birthday?” 

“I...huh. I don’t know. That’s not the fact I remember from school.” 

“So you remembered that my favorite movie star was Hedy Lamarr, but not my own birthday?” 

“In my defense, Ms. Lamarr is far more memorable than a simple date on the calendar.” 

Barnes smiles. 

“I can’t wait to see a picture of her.” 

“You will, soon.” 

- 

Rhodey is getting close. 

The only barrier is convincing his mama to use the sedan. 

“What for?” 

“A trip.” 

“To?” 

“Washington DC?” 

“Why are you questioning that, young man?” 

“Um, because of gas money? Maybe?” 

Mrs. Rhodes stands up to her full height of five-foot-two and stares. 

“What’s the real reason? I didn’t raise a son who could lie to his mother successfully.” 

Rhodey sighs. 

“Tony’s alive. I think. I’m, like, ninety-five-percent sure.” 

Her face softens. 

“Oh baby, you’ve talked about this with your therapist, and-” 

Rhodey glares. 

“It’s not about the therapist’s opinion, mom. I broke into some records. There was a closed-casket funeral, and technically? They didn’t have a body for Tones. I know he’s out there, and I think I got a lead with the help of Jarvis.” 

“I thought Jarvis was dead.” 

“Not Edwin, Mama. Tony’s creation, an AI named Jarvis.” 

Mama looks at him carefully. 

“You sure this is what is going to make you happy?” 

“I don’t care about being happy, I want to see if I can bring him home, Mama.” 

She dangles the keys. 

“If you scratch this car up, I will not hesitate to tell every single aunt at church about this and have common sense walloped into you.” 

“I promise I won’t,” Rhodey says. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“I’ll pack you a bag. And you need your church clothes.” 

“Ma...” 

“Don’t Ma me, I’m your mother, I know what’s best,” Mrs. Rhodes says, sweeping into the kitchen. “Don’t tell your daddy what you told me, you’ll give him a heart attack.” 

“I thought I was gonna give you a heart attack,” Rhodey says. 

She turns, eyes twinkling. 

“You got a lot of learning to do, young man. But go on to DC for me.” 

First stop: gas station. 

Next stop: saving Tony. 

- 

If Tony had known that his friend was so dedicated to saving him that he would drive his mama’s sedan five miles above the speed limit, perhaps he would have stayed put and played nice. 

But Tony did not know this, so he was currently working on fixing Barnes’ arm to shoot projectile missiles that looked like screws to the security cameras. 

“You think they’re counting each screw when none of them even know what your arm can actually do? Not like Zola is physically around anymore,” Tony mutters, holding a screwdriver in his mouth. 

“What’s your plan for escape?” 

“Element of surprise, my dear Watson.” 

“Don’t like that,” Barnes mutters. “What’s your plan once we’re out?” 

“New York City.” 

“That’s it?” 

“You underestimate exactly how much you can hide,” Tony says. “Believe me. We’ll live in an apartment in Queens.” 

- 

Rhodey is about ten minutes away. 

Tony and Bucky have eventually decided to break out, and are having a lovely time shooting a base and putting people through the walls. Really, they shouldn’t have made it out of drywall. Too easy. 

“What fucking vehicle are we taking?!” Barnes yells. 

“I...I will work on it!” 

“You didn’t think about that?!” 

“I was thinking about escaping from a shitty Hydra base!” 

- 

Here comes the sedan! 

- 

Rhodey thought there was only one person, so now the ex-assassin is sitting on his little sister’s school folder, and getting pink glittery on his military pants. 

This was not the plan. 

He is also still only going five over the speed limit, because this is Mama’s sedan. 

He forgot about the little sticker at the back that says “My Son is on the Honor Roll at MIT!” 

“Rhodey love of my life, please go faster than forty miles an hour,” Tony hisses. 

“I can’t believe you’re alive, let me do one thing at a time,” Rhodey stresses. “I bought you hot fries, they’re on the floor in the green bag.” 

“You thought of road trip snacks?” Bucky asks. 

“Yes! And who are you?” 

“Bucky Barnes.” 

Rhodey whips his head around. 

“You lived?” 

“I’ve been told. Eyes on the road and turn left.” 

One tire barely is on the road as he whips the wheel, slamming onto the curb. 

“We are not allowed to fuck my mama’s car up!” Rhodey yells. “Tony, Bucky...do whatever you have to.” 

“How amenable are you to me paying for a new back window?” Bucky asks, left arm already raising. 

“What do you mean-?” 

And...there goes a projectile! 

- 

After twenty minutes of driving around, ten of that being avoiding police blockades, they finally are out on the highway, no one in sight. 

Tony finally breathes. 

“Put on your seatbelt,” Rhodey murmurs. “To New York?” 

“To New York.” 

- 

By all accounts, the table of three men who look slightly rattled and in danger is not actually the worst table that waitress has ever had. 

In fact, the only odd thing that she’s going to say about it is that the young man on the left is wearing a polo shirt, and it is not Sunday, so no church services. A personal outfit choice. 

The man in the middle seems to know this. 

“Rhodey, seriously?” 

“What? It’s laundry day!” 

“I know you had other shirts. I know you did.” 

“Just because you hate polo shirts doesn’t mean you get to hate on me, especially after the shit I just pulled.” 

“He has a point,” says the man on the right. 

“You have no opinion on this. I just met you.” 

“Are you guys ready to order?” She asks nervously, tapping at her notepad with a chewed-up pen. 

They all stare blankly at the menu, and then back at her. She taps her pen one more time. 

“I’ll...um...give you some more time.” She shakes her head. She’s not gonna ask, she doesn’t get paid enough. 

-

Rhodey looks at the two of them. He knows that things...well. 

Tony probably isn’t going to be playing Jeopardy! with this experience. 

Hell, he probably won’t want to see a therapist about this, and Rhodey will have to play Jeopardy! or some obscure dating show simulation with Tony to even help. 

And then there’s the matter of a man who’s supposed to be dead. 

That and...Rhodey decided to finish up college with a master’s degree. 

No one ever said life was easy. 

But. 

It might be fun.