#this class is so far removed from his canon

[celemee]

Oathbreaker

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

You're jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him (Part 7) - Wakatoshi Ushijima

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Ushijima x Fem! reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: none, really? Reader calls him Toshi.

Requested by: @ushisrever

A/N: Can't believe I posted the last update to this more than two years ago. Has it really been that long???? The incomplete series has been bothering me for two years now lmao. Didn't think I'd ever find a fitting scenario for Ushiwaka but thanks to @dira333 helping me sound off some ideas, I was able to get that perfect "snap!" you get when you fit a puzzle piece in perfectly. Gave me enough brain juice to write this out before going back into hibernation.

Serving you some fresh, hot angst and then some lol. Enjoy the burn and then the healing. For someone who was as far removed from Ushiwaka (emotionally) as one can, writing this actually made me see him in a new light. Loved writing him. Hopefully, it stays as true to his canon nature as it can. Hopefully I don't trash this before it's out💀 but if you're reading this, it's good lol.

It feels like the entire Shiratorizawa is at the gates of the school.

"I can't believe she's coming to our school!"

"AAA I can't stop imagining how she'll look in our school uniform."

"Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Maybe I have a chance?"

"I don't know about a boyfriend but you certainly don't have a chance with her."

"Must you always be so cruel?!"

"If you think a star child actor who has made it so big in the industry is going to date a simpleton like you, you're delusional."

You sigh, annoyed, as you try to make your way through the babbling crowd. You're already late for your morning classes and you couldn't care any less about Hoshiko Nakamura. Or any celebrity for that matter.

"In fact, I don't think any boy in this school has a chance with her. Hmm... except maybe Ushiwaka? Not that he'd be interested in dating her anyway. Sometimes I feel like that guy doesn't have any emotions at all."

Your ears perk up at the Ace's name.

Wakatoshi Ushijima has become somewhat of a celebrity at school ever since he was selected for the under 19 representative for Japan in the Youth World Championship.

He was already well known as the formidable volleyball player who crushes any team that he takes on. However, his serious and stoic nature has kept most people from approaching him. Till now, at least.

The girl was right. Wakatoshi wouldn't even think about dating anyone. You seem fairly sure of that. However, the suggestion still leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You're wrong about him not having any emotions you think as you finally break free from the crowd and sprint towards your classroom.

You've known Wakatoshi for as long as you can remember. You remember when his family moved into the house next to yours when you were just little kids. You remember watching the reserved, determined figure of the boy practicing volleyball all by himself in the nearby park. You remember going up to him and offering to play with him. Out of all these memories, the most vivid of them all was the way his eyes subtly lit up when you said you wanted to play with him.

Time has blurred into a haze since then. Even though you both went to different schools all through junior and middle school years, you both kept alive the tradition of playing volleyball together in park.

"You should come to Shiratorizawa," he had said that fateful day. You both were in the last year of middle school. It was a beautiful evening as you both walked back home from the park, the setting sun throwing hues of red and gold across the partially cloudy sky.

"That's not in my hands. I tried in middle school, remember? I want Shiratorizawa but Shiratorizawa doesn't seem to want me," you said, kicking a pebble on the road. Funny how I could say the same about you.

"That was three years ago. You have grown," he said without pause.

"We'll see. I don't want to get my hopes too high. You know just as well as I do that they give preference to athletes over normal students like me. Casual volleyball games with you are just about as sporty as I get," you said as you reached out to open the gate to your home.

You turned to say goodbye to him and found him looking at you, his expression more serious than usual.

"It's not about athleticism."

"Shiratorizawa only accepts the best. Be it volleyball or anything else. I believe you fit into that category. You should come," he says, looking straight into your eyes.

Your stomach flutters. How could he have so much faith in you? There is no doubt that he believes in you because Wakatoshi Ushijima always means what he says. Almost 5 years of knowing him had taught you that. You still found it hard to digest, though.

"I'll try my best, I promise."

"I know you will."

"Class, please give a warm welcome your new classmate, Hoshiko Nakamura!"

You can't help but gawk at her. Saying she is pretty would be a severe understatement. If she looks pretty on screen, it is nothing compared to what she looks like off screen. You look at your desk partner to see if he is thinking the same. Wakatoshi, however, seems to simply be listening to the teacher.

"Miss Nakamura, I'm sure you will have no problem settling in here. To kind of help you settle in this new environment, I was thinking of seating you next to Ushijima as I believe you two have met before at some of the national events."

The teacher might as well have thrown a bus at you and it would have felt just about the same as you do now.

Hoshiko's face lights up. "That would be great. Wakatoshi-kun has always been a delight to be with. Thank you for having me," she says and bows.

Did she just call him by his first name?

"Ah, Y/N, sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. I wanted to get a hold of you before morning class but couldn't. I hope it's not a problem," the teacher says.

You force a polite smile. "It's not a problem at all," you say and start packing your bag.

Hoshiko walks up to the desk and waits patiently for you to gather your stuff, thanking you again.

Your legs feel heavy as you take the empty seat diagonal to them in the adjacent row.

I'm panicking for no reason. They just know each other from an event. It makes sense to make her sit with a familiar and safe person, given her popularity. Yes, Wakatoshi is definitely the ideal choice in this scenario. He is not someone who would be creepy in any sense. He's also strong and intimidating so it would keep the creeps away. It's fine. It'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen between them... right?

"Wakatoshi-kun, I'm so glad I got to sit next to you," she says, smiling at him, speaking loud enough for people sitting nearby to hear.

"Actually, if I'm being honest, when I decided to come back to my hometown to complete my studies, I knew I wanted to go to Shiratorizawa immediately," she continues.

"Of course. Shiratorizawa is the best school in the prefecture. It's only natural to want to study here," Ushijima says, completely seriously.

Hoshiko blushes. "Ah... that is not what I meant... nevermind," she says, causing the guy behind them to burst into laughter.

It seems like the hollow sensation growing in your stomach is here to stay.

It has been two months since the day Hoshiko joined your school. With Ushijima going to school earlier than usual and practicing late into the night for the Inter High preliminaries, he hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you because you could see him in class everyday but with Hoshiko now taking your place, you barely get to say more than hi to him.

However, with the prelims now over and the upcoming week-long break ahead, you're hoping to get some one-on-one time with him once again. All these years with him have made him such an intrinsic part of your daily life that it feels like something big is missing when he's not around. To the world, Wakatoshi Ushijima might be a lot of things. But to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima is home. He is comfort. He is strength. He is someone that you know like the back of your own hand. He is someone that your heart always keeps coming back to. He is the only love you have ever known.

You know that he doesn't share the same feelings for you. But that doesn't stop your heart from longing for him.

The lessons for the day are over and you walk back to your class, eager to pack your bag and go home with Ushijima. You wonder if he'll want to go to the park in the evening.

"She's asking him out! She's asking him out!"

"No WAY! I am SO jealous."

A small crowd has gathered around the window and they're whispering amongst themselves as they look outside.

"Man, that Ushiwaka is so lucky! He gets to date the most beautiful girl in the entire country."

"I mean… he is in the nation's top 3 aces and an under 19 representative of Japan. Not to mention he's tall and strong and good looking. They're actually perfect for each other."

Your heart drops down to your feet.

You look out the window and find yourself looking at Hoshiko and Ushijima standing a ways away from the school building. They're in a quiet, secluded spot and Hoshiko seems to be blushing as she says something to him. You see him nod and say something in return. Hoshiko's face lights up in pure delight and even though they are at a distance, you can hear the joy in her voice.

"No way!!!! He said yes?? I thought he wasn't interested in girls!"

"Goddamn it! There goes my chance!"

You feel dizzy as you watch the two of them walk back to school together.

No. This can't be. You have always known that he doesn't like you that way. But you thought he wasn't interested in dating at all.

No. You shouldn't make any assumptions just yet. These gossip mongers are messing with your head. For all you know, he could have said yes to being in a show or something. You shouldn't despair before you hear the truth from him.

You blink back your tears and run to your class. Thankfully, it's empty. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and wait. Both of them soon appear in the hallway. The crowd surrounds them instantly, wanting to drown them in questions but Ushijima breaks away from them easily and walks towards the class. He comes up to you.

"Y/N. I'm sorry I won't be able to come to the park today."

It's true.

"Hoshiko and I are going to watch this new movie playing at the theatre-"

He's going on a date with her.

"Apparently it has a lot of volleyball in it-"

He's going on a date with h-

"You should join us."

Huh?

"What?"

"I figured you might like it since you play volleyball with me even though you don't play it otherwise."

What? What? What?? What is happening right now??

Ushijima patiently waits for your answer.

"Uh... Whose idea was it to go to the movie?"

"Nakamura's. Why?"

"And how did she bring up the idea?"

"Well, I was returning from the club and she asked to speak to me in private. And then she told me about the movie and if I wanted to watch it with her."

He didn't get it.

"Ah... Toshi... I'm pretty sure she was asking you out on a date."

His eyes widen with surprise.

"A... date? But she never said she had romantic feelings for me."

Could this mean...? Can I hope...?

"Well, her asking you out on the date was her way of saying it."

"I see. I didn't realise. Thank you for telling me. In that case, I should tell her my feelings for her as well."

He has feelings for her.

Your heart shatters.

You're glad that he walks out right away because you couldn't have stopped your tears from coming out even if you wanted to. You run out of the back door, desperate to get far away.

I guess I was the problem all this time. I just wasn't someone you could look at that way.

You had always known that. You had always known that he didn't feel for you the way you did. But that hadn't stopped you from falling for him. Hard. How could you have not? Eight years of knowing him... You didn't even realise when you fell for him. Loving him just came so naturally to you.

Logically, it makes sense. They make sense. She is beautiful and tall and smart. And so is he. They are the type of couple who would be featured on the cover of a magazine. Which, given their career trajectories, is bound to happen sooner or later.

But the heart doesn't care for logic and at this moment you feel like it will actually burst from the amount of pain you're feeling.

You spend the rest of the evening and the entire night crying in your room.

Morning comes and you feel worse than ever. Your head is throbbing, your nose is stuffy and your eyes are swollen. You decide to skip school. It's the last day before break anyway. Maybe this break will be good for you. It will give you some time to adjust to everything and compose yourself.

You go back to bed and sleep through the entire day.

You thought you'd feel better after getting some rest but you still feel like shit.

You drag yourself out of bed. Your entire body feels like it weighs ten times more.

Maybe a shower and some fresh air will do you good.

You head out.

No matter how much you try to think of something else, your mind keeps coming back to him. Your eyes keep searching for him. You look in the direction of his room. The curtains are open and you can see it is empty.

Of course he's not home yet. He's probably out with her again.

Even though it's barely a minute away, you feel exhausted by the time you reach the park. Thankfully, it is empty.

You sit on one of the swings and look around. Most of your memories with Ushijima are tied to this park. This is where you both have spent the majority of your last eight years together.

All the sweet memories make you tear up again.

"You didn't come to school today."

You were so lost in your head that you didn't realise when he walked up to you. You blink back your tears.

"Oh... hi. Yeah, I - I wasn't feeling very well today," you say, not meeting his eye.

"You seem upset."

He noticed.

"Oh... I'm fine. Really. It's just been a rough day. It's nothing to worry about," you say, still evading his gaze.

He sits on the swing next to you. You look to the side and see he has a volleyball in his lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You quickly avert your gaze again.

"No."

"I see. Well, would you like me to distract you? Talk about something else?"

It is getting harder to keep your tears in check. You're sure your voice will crack if you speak. You just nod.

"You would've liked the movie. It wasn't as focused on volleyball as Nakamura said it would-"

Great. He's chosen the worst topic he could have talked about. You don't want to hear about his date. You need to change the topic. Quickly.

"What are you doing here?" you blurt out the one question that has been weighing on your mind ever since he came here.

"What do you mean? I came here to play volleyball with you."

"I- I mean... I thought you would spend your free time with Ho-Hoshiko from now."

"Why would I do that?"

"B- because you're d-dating her?" Your voice cracks.

"I am not dating Nakamura."

What?

"What do you mean you're not dating her? I thought you liked her. Didn't you go on a date with her yesterday?"

"I do like her. Just not romantically. And no, I went to watch the movie with Tendou. She had already bought the tickets so I bought them from her. I wanted to watch it with you but you went home. "

"But... you left to tell her your feelings for her..."

"I did. I wanted to clarify that I only feel for her as a friend. It was only thanks to you that I was able to tell her in time before I ended up hurting her unintentionally."

"I...see..."

Relief floods your heart. You suddenly feel a hundred pounds lighter. You finally gather the courage to look at him. He is looking right back at you.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, your lower lip trembling.

"Of course."

"Do you have romantic feelings for anyone?"

You instantly regret speaking up as soon as the question leaves your mouth. You know he never lies. And if he doesn't feel the same w-

"Yes. You."

You stare at him blankly.

It's subtle but his expression has changed from completely serious to something a little softer. You can't quite place what it is. Is it concern? nervousness? Adoration?

"R-really? You like me? Romantically?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Ah," he rubs his chin, "I'm not sure..."

You're still having difficulty believing that any of this is real.

"You know," he continues, "After my father, you were the first person who ever wanted to play with me."

He points towards the corner of the park. "I was practicing against that wall that day when you came up to me. Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I can never forget that day."

"So many people have come and gone from my life but you have been with me for so long that, I guess somewhere along the way I just assumed you would stay forever. Which, I now realise, I shouldn't have."

He feels the same. He has always felt the same.

"Toshi?"

He turns to you again.

"I love you."

He breaks into a soft smile.

"I love you too."

Holyshit this was a ride. I'm glad I wrote this and I hope you guys enjoy.

Reblogs appreciated. Please do not steal or repost.

Taglist: @pinkiipeachiikeen @duckymcdoorknob @kakiwrites @ebiharachan @r0binscript I wasn't sure if you guys still want to be tagged for this series, seeing that it has been over two years so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist.

Check out THIS POST to know what all characters I have written for in this series.

MASTERLISTS | If you enjoy my work and want to, you can Buy me a Kofi!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yandere Silver Headcanons

adhlbfypfqeyvf If you want to know why this is coming out of nowhere... I've been cooking (talking) with friends about this concept for over a month and now I'm going to dump it all onto you 🤡 This interpretation of Yan!Silver is in part based on Elbert Greetia from Ikevil 💀 so uh… be warned…

Regular Silver, staring at this monstrosity: 😨 TRIGGER WARNINGS: (slow burn) yandere themes, (unintended) emotional manipulation, gaslighting, spying/stalking, unhealthy possessiveness and obsession, mentions of blood, (Silver’s) delusions, minor character death

***PLEASE NOTE: writing yandere content is NOT the same as supporting or approving of these behaviors irl. This is also NOT what I believe Silver is canonically like; this is only meant to be a creative reimagining/"what if" scenario.***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

It all starts off like a fairy tale come true. But like Hansel and Gretel stumbling upon the witch’s candy house or a frog set into a simmering pot, the heat—the horror—isn’t fully cranked up in the very beginning. A dream doesn’t start like a nightmare, the nightmare comes later. And you, like the fool you are, were lured in by the promise of sweets and a prince.

The boy you've been crushing on for the last several weeks shyly approaches you and confesses. Handsome, earnest Silver takes your hands in his and gives you that lopsided smile you've been admiring from a distance. He swears himself to you as your loyal partner, vowing to protect you from the things that slither in the dark and prey on the unsuspecting. To keep you from hurt and sadness forever and ever.

You're giddy—positively over the moon and the stars—to finally (and proudly!) call yourself his. Every time you look at him, you swear it feels like a thousand butterflies are fluttering in your chest, or like you’re losing yourself in the aurora of his eyes.

You tell him his eyes are mystifying and unique, that they’re something you could stare at forever. He doesn’t seem to get it at first, but is pleased nevertheless and thanks you for the compliment.

It’s not until a few weeks later that the ramifications come. One day, out of the blue, Silver gifts you with a piece of jewelry (a ring, a necklace, an earring, etc; whatever your preference is!). Embedded in it is a clear gemstone that refracts the light in pastel pink, baby blue, and pale purple… exactly like his eyes.

He helps you secure it on for the first time and oh, how gentle his touch is as his fingers brush against your skin. Silver gives that small smile that melts your heart. “There. This way, you’ll always have ‘me’ watching over you,” he says, lightly tapping the aurora-colored jewel, “even if I am not right at your side.”

Sometimes you feel Silver’s own gaze lingering on you too. You know him to be an airhead or half asleep most of the time, so the thought never occurs to you that this spacey behavior is odd. But once or twice, when you’re stealing glances back at him, you notice a seriousness set in his eyes, a darkness creeping into the light. The same deadset look that scares off children and makes others mistake him for someone far more aggressive than he actually is, you think.

He lingers close when you walk to and class together, his protective instincts sending him into action to catch you if you so much as stumble, and remove errant leaves and petals that tumble onto your hair. “I have you,” he reassures you, oblivious to the electricity in his touch and how it makes you leap. “Don’t worry.”

Silver acts as though you’re as delicate as glass and as pure as freshly fallen snow. It’s not uncommon for him to praise your positive traits (while totally overlooking your flaws) or talk about how good of a person you are—and that also drives him to keep you that way. Untouched, untroubled. He’s so quick to steer you away from stressful situations or charging in to settle an issue himself, typically by talking down the aggressors. That’s thoughtful of him… right?

He has the habit of falling asleep on you when he gets to be comfortable. You usually don’t mind it, but sometimes he gets a little too clingy in his sleep. It’s hard to pry him off when he looks so peaceful and mutters your name under his breath while he has your body in a death grip.

Silver takes you on quiet nature strolls. You often drift off the beaten path and wander deep into the woods behind NRC, far, far away from the other students and staff. The sun sinks and sinister sounds come from the dark—you get nervous and leap into his arms, asking Silver if you should turn back now. He agrees every time, walking you back and wishing you sweet dreams. By the time you collapse into your bed from exhaustion, you don’t realize he has stolen you away for the entire day for himself.

It’s strange. You start to get the sense that you’re seeing Silver in your dreams just as much as you see him in the waking world. Rarely do you fully recall the details of your dreams, but there’s always that vague feeling of catching a flash of silver hair or feeling the heat of his eyes uncomfortably pressing into you when you wake up.

You tell him about this and joke that maybe he’s using his UM to haunt your dreams. “It’s impossible. You’re not Rook-senpai,” you laugh. He chuckles at the idea. But oh, how weird. Somehow the conversation tends to steer toward whatever you happened to recall of last night’s dreams. If Rook appeared in your dream, Silver coincidentally slips him into the discussion. Lightly probing questions like, “What is your opinion of Rook-senpai?” and, “Are you comfortable around him?”

Silver tells you about the stories his father has shared with him from his travels. Many are folklore from different regions in Twisted Wonderland, but more recently he has been fixated on fairy tales from the Shaftlands. “A couple finds true love and live happily ever after, nothing able to tear them apart…” he says dreamily. “It sounds just like us.”

Silver appears stoic on the outside, but you know that’s not the case. A few months into the relationship, you become acutely aware of his insecurities and his low self-worth. Not strong enough, not long-lived enough, not alert enough, not… enough. He will never be able to repay his debt to his father, Silver has confided in you many times.

“It’s okay. You’re here now, and you’re doing your best to keep the people you love safe.” You do your best to soothe him in those moments of weakness, for which he is thankful for. With shining eyes, auroras in the dark, he whispers, “You’re so kind to me.” Raptly, as if beholding a higher being. “What did I do to deserve someone like you…?” And there it is again, that seriousness, the light fleeing from him, as he vows to repay your kindness.

You’re acquainted with Silver’s animal companions and get along with them. Now you’re noticing them everywhere, not just around Silver. In fact, you see them without Silver. Birds in the trees, a rabbit hopping alongside you, the stag poking its head out from the bushes.

Then those animals reappear when you meet up with Silver later, looking all innocent, while Silver asks you about your day. If there’s a slight discrepancy (due to poor memory) or a detail you overlooked, he’ll gently correct you or clarify. “Blueberry muffin? As I recall, you had a cranberry muffin for a midmorning snack.”/“Ah, you forgot to mention you asked Ace if you could borrow a pencil for the exam.” You blink, surprised. How did he come upon all that information? How can he recite your day better than you can? It doesn’t hit you until much later that his animal friends have been serving as his eyes and ears.

He sincerely apologizes to you when you confront him about it. “Please tell them I don’t appreciate them snooping!” you cry out. Silver promises he’ll ask them to curb their curiosity—and while it’s true that you no longer see the animals following you, you can still feel their beady gazes around every bend and corner. Paranoia claws at your scalp, and you try to calm your doubts with one thought: No way would Silver be encouraging this. I must be imagining things.

You try to get your mind off of your worries by hanging out with your classmates. Sebek, ever boisterous and over-the-top, uplifts your mood. Pretty soon, you’re chatting away with him at the lunch table (even if he loudly refers to you as a HUMAN), paying no mind to the shadow that has fallen over it until a deadly quiet voice speaks up.

“Sebek.” It is so cold, so hollow, it startles both you and Sebek when you realize the speaker is Silver. “I don’t like it when you talk with them like that.” Sebek makes to say sorry to his fellow knight—or is it to challenge him? You never find out, for Silver has grabbed you by the wrist and is yanking you away from him.

He doesn’t let go until you’re in a secluded area of the courtyard. There’s a red mark left behind, and it causes tears to well up in him. Silver collapse like a house of cards. He’s extremely apologetic—he has hurt you, hasn’t he? He failed to protect you. How terrible. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have been so petty and jealous.

It breaks your heart to see Silver a mess, blaming himself so profusely for what happened. You do whatever you can to calm him, and eventually the conversation somehow turns to you accepting some fault. It’s not, though, the little nagging voice in your head protests. You silence it, prioritizing the emotionally vulnerable Silver. “I’m sorry, I should have considered your feelings and avoided giving Sebek the wrong message. I’ll avoid getting all buddy-buddy with him in the future, okay?”

And it happens again, again, again. One by one, your friends are cut off from you in a similar manner. It’s always something they do or say that concerns your boyfriend, something that impedes or disrupts that pristine, picturesque fairy tale he has laid out in his head.

Silver’s presence in your life becomes increasingly invasive, like unwanted briars creeping into a garden, thorns cutting off your access to air. He’s soon consuming every second of your day, whether physically beside you or planted in your worried thoughts like a demon disguised as a guardian angel. You can’t do anything anymore without feeling anxious and watched.

He starts to talk about… strange things. Tall towers, glass coffins, the bars of a bird cage. All manner of motifs pulled from fairy tales, items and places meant to keep a character shackled and stowed away from the world. “I feel bad for the person locked up in them,” you’d tell him. “Sometimes,” Silver murmurs mysteriously, “people will take drastic measures to protect the ones they love.” You cannot explain why, but those exchanges leave you feeling immensely uneasy.

You timidly share your experiences with people you think are safe. Silver’s dorm members, his friends, his family. The people who know him best, who can maybe talk some sense into him. To your dismay, your concerns fall upon deaf ears. You earn many blank looks and dismissive comments, all citing Silver’s good nature. (“He loves you very much. This is his way of demonstrating that, he’s just sort of clumsy with it. Give him another chance.”/“That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you’re remembering it correctly?”/“You’re overreacting.”)

It beats down your spirit, starts to make you question your own judgment. You second-guess your words and actions. Is your perception of reality right when everyone else is telling you that you’re wrong, that Silver could never harm a fly.

Then comes the guilt like a wave crashing into you as you think about all the good times you’ve had together. Rose-colored days under a balmy blue sky. Your thoughts are like a brewing storm, and every evening when you tuck into bed, dread, unease, and uncertainty follow you.

You’re waking from the lovely dream that was a whirlwind romance, seeing Silver for the imperfect and obsessive person that he is. Unfortunately, you don’t have the heart to bring up the tough subject with him. He looks so darn happy with you, continues to dote on you and act the part of a valiant knight. Your mouth will open, then close again before any words can come out. It hurts, it hurts, and it is eating you up from the inside out.

You bottle it up for Seven knows how long, but it comes torrenting out one night. Silver is walking you home as per usual when you blurt out the suggestion of taking a break from each other. He stills, hurt crumpling his face. And then he has you by the shoulders, softly demanding to know what is wrong, has someone made you feel unwell? You, it’s you, you’re suffocating me, you want to say, but you cannot.

Silver presses and you resist, the two of you taking up the middle of main street with your desperate quarrel. He’s becoming increasingly frantic and desperate, his eyes dark and obsessive. It’s then that a passing mob student angrily speaks up, giving you a rough shove. You meet the hard ground, pain shooting through you. “Move already!” he gruffly stomps by—but he’s caught by Silver, his expression like clouds that have drowned out the moon. “You put your hands on them just now,” he says evenly. “Please apologize.”

“Like hell I will! They shouldn’t have been in my way,” the mob student grumbles. He attempts to leave but to no avail. There’s Silver walling off his escape route, an icy fury overtaking him.

You can’t bring yourself to watch what happens next. Wrenching your face away, you do your best to block out the horrible noises that come. The crunching of bones, the dull thud of flesh against something solid, agonized screaming. And then it’s silent.

You slowly gather the courage to dare a look at the scene. The world tilts, and bile rises in your throat. Silver calmly stands over a fallen figure. The street—and him—are painted in red. The mob student isn’t moving. Not anymore.

He smiles. The small, awkward one that once made your head buzz and cheeks flame. It only yields a gaping hole in your heart now. Silver strolls toward you, caked in blood but acting as though he isn’t.

You’re too paralyzed with fear to attempt backing away or rejecting his advances when Silver tenderly embraces you. You tremble violently, hiccups and tears spilling out.

A hand strokes your hair, his voice a lullaby to soothe you. “Shhh, shhh, shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I took care of the big, scary monster. You don’t need to look at it—it’s not fit for your eyes.”

Silver holds you and allows you to sob until you’ve tired yourself out and into a dream. He will carry you home, setting you down on your mattress like laying a corpse in its glass coffin and taking in the sight of you from the foot of the bed.

Not realizing that he, the knight, is the monster that keeps his beloved in a gilded cage. His arms and body, the bars that lock you in. Irony is a cruel mistress, and twisted is the love that it propagates.

[lunamond]

The disproportionate hate show!Criston gets is so bizarre. No argument I’ve seen his haters make sofar has made any sense to me.

He is outside of Mysaria the only siginficant lowborn character we meet. He rises up from the son of a steward of a minor house to the position of King‘s Guard thanks to Rhaenyra, who then pressures him into having sex with her, sth that could get him executed. Afterwards she not just rejects his proposal, but laughs in his face.

And when as a result of this experience Criston is shown to be emotional distraught and bitter, people call him an incel? (I assume that they refer to his ideology and not his actual status as a celibate, because not being celibate is literally what started this mess)

It really rubs me the wrong way, when people remove all context from this situation. A lower class person getting a well-off position from a person with authority, who they then end up having sex with is ALWAYS a relationship with a power imbalance (Obviously there are irl relationships like this, who work out and manage to be relatively healthy, but that doesn‘t remove the imbalance of power and the increased likelyhood of abuse).

We see Criston‘s reluctance when Rhaenyra makes her move. It does not matter if Criston was attracted to her or not. The simple fact that he is in a vunerable position makes him denying her a risk. It also does not matter that Rhaenyra had no malicious intentions, the simple fact that she ignores Criston‘s refusal and continues pressuring make this whole scene super uncomfortable. Her ignorance and naivety does not erase the impact of her actions.

Criston growing to hate her afterwards is perfectly justified.

As a man who grew up in Westerosi society, he inevitably holds misogynist beliefs, which is reflected in the insults he uses after this. But compared to the acts of every single character on this show, singling out his character is pretty ludicrous, when we have plenty of male (and female) characters who have done worse:

Like commiting SA (Viserys, Aegon), grooming young girls (Viserys again! I really hate this man, Daemon, Otto, Corlys and Rhaenys because telling your daughter she has to sleep with a grown man when she is 14 is pretty much the same thing Otto does to Alicent) and the only major crime Criston is guilty of sofar: murder (Daemon killed his wife and the servant in Driftmark, also he did large scale police violence which people love to forget about, Rhaenys killed potentially hundreds of smallfolk at the coronation)

Obviously, anybody is allowed to dislike whatever character they want, but a lot of people flatten Criston into just a misogynistic bitter incel who is just mad that Rhaenyra has sex, ignoring every bit of context we get for his behaviour.

This becomes escpecially weird, when those same people have no problem stanning Daemon, who calls his 1st wife a „bitch“, „uglier than sheep“ and then murders her, because he sees her as inferior as a none-valyrian. But Criston calling Rhaenyra, a person he feels personally wronged by, a „spoiled cunt“ is apparently a too far.

It is just really frustating when the character with the canonically lowest social standing gets afforded the least amount of nuance by the fandom (the writers are obvs not excempt from this criticism either).

[saintsenara]

THE AUDIENCE CLAMOURS FOR YOUR VOLMIONE TAKE!!!!!!!!! In all seriousness the curiously is piqued tenfold by the fact that you go hard to bat for the other two voldemort/golden trio ships

i've definitely been putting this one off, anon, but it's hermione's birthday, and since the requests have kept coming...

maybe i have to grit my teeth and get through it.

i am, like my good pal @yorickofyore, broadly a tomione/volmione disliker - which is a spoiler for what follows. there are - obviously - huge numbers of people who are not, and they may sit happily in their ecosystem while i flop around photosynthesising in mine.

and the reason why i don't like tomione/volmione is right there in the last three screenshots: it relies - like several other hermione pairings, snamione and sirimione chief among them - on a portrayal of hermione's intellectual expression which bears absolutely no relation to how this is written in canon.

across all seven books in the series, hermione's intellect primarily manifests itself in a sincerely impressive ability to retain and repeat information [very usually verbatim from the source she got it from]. she is able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical components of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is then able to apply this retention - that is, to repeat the information she has acquired - of knowledge to the performance of magic which is [often considerably] ahead of her expected level both in terms of the hogwarts curriculum and in terms of what would be seen as the median ability of an adult witch or wizard.

but hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly radical, creative, or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous amount of intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - not only in the respect she has for following textbooks and teachers to the letter [hence why she won't attempt any of the modifications in the half-blood prince's textbook, she thinks it's offensive that they contradict the "official" peer-reviewed and sanctioned instructions] but also in her agreement with the gatekeeping imposed by the state and/or its authorities on academic inquiry.

[hence her disliking the invented spells in the half-blood prince's textbook because they're not ministry approved, or her easing her discomfort at having read the books from which voldemort learned to make a horcrux by insisting - undoubtedly correctly - that dumbledore wanted her to do it and she therefore has the permission of an intellectual authority].

she's immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find [something she regards as] an empirical source for - which is why harry's mental connection with voldemort frightens her so much, or why she thinks that harry's lost his mind when he begins to insist the deathly hallows are real and important, or, most famously, why she thinks divination is bullshit.

she's never shown to be able to synthesise her knowledge [she never answers questions in class in her own words, she always goes massively over word limits], or to use it in ways which are considerably removed from its typical application.

[the protean charm on the da coins, for example - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't necessarily be classroom-sanctioned, since she's using it to defy umbridge, but the evidence of canon is that it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. terry boot is impressed because he's looking at a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old, rather than because hermione is using that magic in an unusual way. the same is true of the polyjuice potion - it's impressive because she brews it flawlessly aged thirteen.]

this is a very logical, rational, and scientific approach to learning - and one which the series, which tends to take a dim view of anything which deviates too far from the status quo, views extremely positively - and it is intelligence. i know some people think that when i say this about hermione i'm saying that she isn't clever - or that i'm saying she's less clever than the characters [all of whom are male] that the series permits to be "brilliant" - but that's not the case. hermione is clearly extremely clever - and her logical, empirical, careful approach comes in clutch for the trio throughout the series, right from philosopher's stone. her intellectual expression just isn't the only way intelligence can manifest itself - and it isn't an intellectual expression which will automatically mesh with another very clever person's approach.

which is to say... lord voldemort, both as a teen and an adult, is - intellectually - the complete opposite of hermione.

he is someone - as he tells us - who thinks of magic as a creative force he has every right to shape as he sees fit, something whose boundaries he has the inherent right to smash through. he rejects disciplinary authority [his loathing of dumbledore - as an adult, at least - is because he thinks that dumbledore is a petty-minded gatekeeper who attempts to repress the dark arts - magic, snape tells us, which is inherently ever-changing, unfixed, mutating - because he's afraid of them and their refusal to be neatly contained in disciplinary boxes; his appeal to slughorn's authority is purely a manipulation technique]. he is an adaptor and inventor, and he uses magic in ways which radically deviate from its intended purpose.

and so the common "teen tom riddle and hermione are at school together" trope that they'd both get off on being academic rivals is, in my view, impossible to justify while keeping either of them remotely canon-coherent. she's going to think he's a cunt. he's going to think she's irrelevant.

indeed, i genuinely think the most likely scenario if the two are at school together is that the teen voldemort wouldn't be able to pick hermione out of a line-up - not least because she has very little to offer him when it comes to his plans for world domination.

when it comes to those he's "nice" to, the teenage tom riddle targets the socially prominent, rich, and influential, whom he can use parasitically to his own ends.

he's happy, undoubtedly, to have minions who are less useful to him from a social-advancement perspective, but who come in handy as pawns in his schemes - as dumbledore puts it, "the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty" - but this is the only thing he sees them as. hermione has a capacity for cruelty he would undoubtedly see potential in [even if he would probably be wary of her "run and tell teacher" vibe], but as someone who does his bidding only, rather than anyone for whom he's willing to fake [or, indeed, to actually feel] any degree of mutual affection.

and i do think this - in and of itself - is interesting. hermione is someone - as i've said elsewhere - who has a tendency towards blind loyalty, which often causes her to accept people she likes and/or respects treating her cruelly [something we see in canon particularly in how she reacts to snape's behaviour towards her]. she's also someone who is incredibly deferential to authority, fairly naive, convinced she's always right, convinced she's not irrational, superstitious, or emotionally-driven, and capable of pretty egregious cruelty in pursuit of being rational and correct.

or, in other words, she's very easy for a flesh-and-blood voldemort to manipulate.

[she's not at risk from a horcrux because she's possessed of the empirical fact that they can't hurt you if you don't let them get emotionally close to you, which impacts how she behaves around the locket.]

on the rare occasions when i've enjoyed fics with this pairing, then, they've tended to be ones which actually acknowledge this - and which have hermione completely destroyed by a voldemort [usually in adult form] who has never cared one iota about her, all because she was convinced she'd be far too clever to fall for his tricks.

[my rec: enigma by devdevlin.]

and this is the main way my view of tomione/volmione deviates from my view of tomarrymort or ronmort - i don't think there's any circumstance where it can ever work as something mutual, whereas the entire point of tomarrymort is that the relationship is something voldemort perceives as equal, and ronmort sees the dark lord running headfirst into ron's ability to disarm and confuse him by possessing a crumb of emotional intelligence. i don't think voldemort would hate hermione - or even be particularly irritated by her - but nor do i think he'd find anything about her interesting enough to make him want to keep her around for any longer than she was useful.

but - like so many hermione pairings - the default in tomione/volmione tends to be "omg, hermione is so hot, brilliant, and fascinating that [insert man here] becomes completely obsessed with her". whether the story leads to voldemort becoming a better person or hermione going over to the dark side, the way the pairing is written always assumes that hermione is someone voldemort would consider [often very quickly] important to him [even in circumstances where she is a prisoner]. only very rarely do fics ever explore the much more canon-justifiable - and, in my view, much more interesting - idea that voldemort is somebody hermione could and would consider important, while he wouldn't give a single fuck about her.

[neither of them give a shit about dead rabbits though. it's the only thing they have in common.]

[captain-astors]

Finished my reference sheets for @tokyoghoulartfight2024 at long last! (Note: I removed Aoki’s gold earring because it looked weird)

Individual profiles

Shizuya Kei: Quinx, Blood Type AB+, 5'10. 28.

A solo-operating First-class investigator who underwent the Quinx surgery with a Bikaku kagune from an ghoul known as Kelpie. Prior to meeting Aoki he was almost completely apathetic, but as the two have collaborated, Aoki's requests have rejuvenated a desire for life in him. Also, his vision is awful. He sees blurs of color at best.

Aoki: Ghoul, Blood Type A-, 5'3. 24.

The infamous S~ rank Kakuja, codenamed "Kelpie", currently imprisoned in Cochlea; the grey oversized clothing is his prison attire. However, as opposed to being forced there, Aoki is there by choice, comfortably living in safety from his fellow ghouls as he directs Shizuya to eliminate various ghouls and gives him the advice needed to do so. (Note: I accidentally switched his earrings around for the Kakuja form, the base ref has them right) DO:

Draw them in ships, they have a weird gay thing going on with each other but they can absolutely be weird with another person, just know they're a package deal. If one of them is dating a character the other one either will be too or will be third wheeling.

Draw them interacting with canon characters/your OCs

Change their outfits/hair/whatever as long as they're them, Aoki's markings are just little patterns he he's taught himself to make on his skin with RC cells out of boredom in Cochlea so they can take just about any shape.

Blood/gore/angst

Ask me any additional questions about them!

DO NOT:

Draw NSFW of them

lighten Aoki's skin (lighting and stuff affects it of course but he's not pale)

Mutual Story (under the cut for length but I strongly encourage anyone interested to read it!)

Shizuya grew up in an entirely unremarkable lower-middle-class family with even less remarkable grades; he was never really expected to go far by anyone, so when he was accepted into the CCG training school he believed it might finally be his time. In reality he just had an aptitude for fighting, and by looking at his records V determined that if he were to die in action his body would not be highly sought after and therefore make suitable food for the garden.

Though he doesn't know the latter, he managed to figure out the prior by the time he graduated, but continued as a rank 3 investigator on the principle that he simply didn't have anywhere else to go. Despite being a talented fighter, he was so severely dispassionate and depressed that he never rose through the ranks and amassed scars from simply being careless in fights. The only thing that really interested him was joining his coworkers at bars and such after their shift, but Shizuya didn't know how to start up a conversation and mostly just ended up listening silently as they chattered and feeling emptier than before.

Aoki, meanwhile, grew up on the streets with a burning resentment towards just about everyone. Despite being claimed as part of a "pack" of ghouls, they abandoned him and his mother when they were cornered by Investigators, and his mom, who had been sharing her food with Aoki, didn't have the strength to outrun them. Instead she hid him as best she could in an alleyway, covering him in tattered blankets as she was cornered. Aoki watched, horrified and powerless to help as they killed her and called ghouls heartless beasts.

Aoki has never been able to forgive the ghouls that abandoned him, nor himself for not trying to help her, even if at such a young age couldn't have done a thing regardless, so he channeled his self-loathing into external hatred of his own species. He almost strictly consumed ghouls, eventually developing his Kakuja.

The "Kelpie" name is more fitting than just aesthetics, as one of his main strategies was to use his day job as a dancer to lure fellow ghouls to his home under the guise of kinship, just to devour them. However, this worked progressively less as he developed a reputation among ghouls and the CCG alike, and counterattacks became increasingly threatening in spite of his strength.

Their meeting was little more than coincidence. Shizuya was assigned to dispatch some ghouls that had been causing trouble in the 10th district, and Aoki happened to be attacking the same group. Shizuya got to them first, while Aoki watched from a distance, undetected. Aoki was overcome with an idea as he saw Shizuya dispatch these ghouls without a single spark of the hatred that he'd seen in the investigators that killed his mother, just melancholy.

Aoki attacked Shizuya, fully covered in his Kakuja. Aoki slashed his face, and Shizuya realized rather starkly that this wasn't like his other fights, where he was injured out of a lack of caring; Aoki was fully capable of overpowering him. However, as the two fought, Aoki managed to pin him to the ground and have a conversation with the Investigator. Shizuya admitted he felt aimless, and Aoki promised to give him purpose if he guaranteed the latter's safety. Shizuya, who, as predicted had no real allegiance to humanity or morals and just wanted to feel wanted, agreed. Their "fight" then proceeded, and Shizuya, under Aoki's direction, gouged one of his Kakuhou out of his back.

The first Kakuhou he took from Aoki was turned into his harpoon-like quinque, and shortly thereafter when the primary Kakuhou had heald, it was extracted and placed within Shizuya. The concept was to leave the ghoul alive and regularly transfer RC cells from the original host so that the Kagune would acclimate and be controlled with much more ease and less risk; and all the while Shizuya was supposedly torturing Aoki for intel and compliance.

However, this was really anything but the case. Aoki allowed this all for the technical protection of Cochlea, specifically entrusting Shizuya with his Kagune. With the publicity disaster with Shiki Kijima shortly before Aoki was taken into custody, Shizuya managed to arrange for all monitoring of the room to be shut down while he was "interrogating" Aoki, so that the public would never get the chance to form empathy for a mistreated ghoul. In reality though, Shizuya merely uses this time to deepen his relationship with Aoki, and seek his direction in which ghouls must be killed, and which investigators might be lost along the way. Their path is one of mutually assured destruction.

Though before Shizuya had no particular love for anything, now, as long as he's killing under Aoki's request, he does so with a deeply unnerving bloodlust, but it is nonetheless a passion.

Aoki is a surprisingly capable emotional support, (he just willfully ignores his own problems), and tenderly caring for Shizuya's wellbeing has actually done wonders for the deeply hateful worldview he's surrounded himself ever since the death of his mother.

They're anchored by each other, and their time together in Aoki's cell is usually just embracing and consoling each other in a weirdly tender way as Shizuya tells Aoki about anyone he's killed for him, and Aoki advises Shizuya about using his Kagune or who to hunt.

Shizuya keeps Aoki safe, Aoki keeps Shizuya sane.

Also they kiss, I'm not really sure where to mention that, there's not an exact label on their relationship it's just desperate attachment and fondness, "dating" doesn't exactly cover it.

Other facts:

Their rings are a sign of promise to eachother, Shizuya usually hides his under a glove but he deeply enjoys wearing it visibly when he can.

Shizuya regularly delivers meat to Aoki, so that if needed Aoki can always break out. It's not foolproof but it's better than nothing. He also makes sure Aoki's administered RC suppressant dosage is way too low.

Aoki doesn't technically have a last name but between them he is Aoki Shizuya, Shizuya said something about "sharing his" and it stuck.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 5 | S.R

Previous Part

Chapter Summary - Spencer puts his hatred for Cat aside in order to try and save you before it’s too late. But even if he manages to get you back from the clutches of her partner, can the two of you really have a future?

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.08 Ashley, hostage situation, guns, swearing, talk of miscarriage (canon compliant), vomit, blood.

WC - 8.2k

Part 5 - Red Light, Green Light

Present Day

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Your eyes fluttered, your brain flitting between consciousness and sleep. You tried to fight to stay awake but you were just so tired.

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

The dark haired woman was still playing on her phone, feet up on the counter. The bracelet was sitting on the corner of it, tauntingly sparkling at you. 

She wouldn’t tell you how she’d come to be in possession of it, of course she wouldn’t. But it made you fear what had happened to Spencer. 

He was the last person who had it, what had this woman done to get her hands on? Was he here? Was he being held in another room? Was he…dead? 

“We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Images kept flashing before your lids every time your eyes fluttered closed. Shimmers of gold and twinkling lights. Large, spherical golden orbs hanging from the ceiling, strings of fairy lights illuminating the otherwise drab BAU lobby.

“We need to talk.” Spencer sidled up to you, whispering so no one else would hear. 

“No we don’t.” You kept your eyes focused on the elevator shaft, gripping your champagne flute tightly in your hand. 

“Yes, we do.” He hissed and then you felt his hand on your back as he started leading you away. 

You’d just arrived back from a case in New Hampshire where little girls were being abducted after their parents were killed with the unsub trying to rehome the girls with more “worthy” parents. 

It was Spencer’s last case before he took a sabbatical to teach classes at the university and honestly you’d been quietly looking forward to him being gone. 

It had been nearly three months since the night in Varnville and the tension between you was close to reaching fever pitch. 

“Now is really not the time.” You spat as he continued to lead you down the corridor. 

“Yeah well there has never been a good time.” He removed his hand from you as soon as you were far enough away from the others. 

“Spencer, Rossi and Krystall are imminently going to come up in the elevator and either they will be engaged or Rossi will be crushed. Either way we need to be there.” You huffed, half wondering if you might crush your champagne glass with the grip you were holding it in. 

“I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. It’s been months of you giving me the cold shoulder. The team knows something is up, they’ve been asking questions. I…I miss you.” He softened, his eyes full of sorrow. “I miss my best friend.” 

You swallowed thickly, loosening the grip on your glass a little. 

“I miss mine too.” You admitted. “But every time I look at you, I am flooded with guilt, Spencer. What we did…it should never have happened.” 

“I just want us to be ok again.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“So do I.” You nodded. 

“At least we can agree on something.” He offered you a slightly wistful smile. 

“It’s going to take time though, Spencer. For us to get back to how things used to be.” 

“But we can try?” He asked, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” you sighed a little. “We can try.” 

“She said yes!” Rossi’s voice suddenly carried down the hall followed in quick succession by cheers of congratulations. 

You went to pass Spencer to hurry back to the festivities but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

The look he gave you said so much. There were so many things he wanted to say to you, you could tell he was struggling to pick just one. 

Eventually he sighed and simply whispered, “you’re too good for him” before turning away from you and walking away. 

“I think it’s time we up the ante, don’t you?” 

Your heavy eyes shot back open at the sound of her voice. She was on her feet, her phone dangling from one hand. 

“Just tell me what you want.” You groaned, your throat was so dry. 

“I already told you. For you to see what he’s really like.” She scowled at you like you were a misbehaved child. 

“I don’t know what that means.” You tugged on your bindings. 

“Do you think they’ll find you?” She cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“Wh-who?” You frowned at her change of subject. 

“Your team. SSA’s Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Tara Lewis, Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons? And that’s not to forget technical analyst Penelope Garcia and of course Doctor Spencer Reid.” 

“Bravo, you know my team's names.” You rolled your tired eyes. 

“Do you think they’ll find you?” She repeated. 

“While I’m alive?” You huffed. “Or after you kill me?” 

Her lip twitched up at the corner in a wry smile. She pocketed her phone and moved back over towards the camera on the edge of the counter. She pressed a button and the bright red light illuminated. 

“It’s time we talked about why you’re here. Cat Adams wants you to know what your lover boy is really like.”

***

“Goddamnit,” Spencer groaned when he almost lost his footing for the hundredth time.

To his right came the sound of Cat’s playful giggle. 

“I figured a genius like you would have a mathematical equation or some kind of scientific theory for this.” She snickered. 

“Gravity dictates that my body is naturally being drawn towards the floor.” Spencer huffed. 

“It has nothing to do with your gangly and uncoordinated limbs?” She laughed again. 

“I’m not gangly.” He grumbled, wobbling again on his roller skates. 

“You can’t skate backwards?” She chirruped, showing off her skills, keeping her eyes on his as she expertly manoeuvred herself backwards on the skates. 

“I can barely go forward.” He scoffed. 

“You need to keep your head up.” 

Spencer pulled a face but did as she said, lifting his head, rolling it back a little too far and he stumbled again. 

Cat laughed, quickly skating to his aid and grabbing him before he could hit the floor. 

“Not that far.” She linked her arm through his, keeping him upright and slowly started to move them both on the rink. “Is someone having fun? I’m having fun.”

Spencer’s hand was on top of hers which rested on his forearm. He didn’t think he meant to put it there. He glanced at her and she glanced at him. He couldn’t speak, so Cat continued. 

“If your stupid chaperones weren’t here, I’d ask the DJ to put on some Savage Garden for the guy-girl skate and we could totally make out.” Her tone was teasing but it made Spencer’s chest constrict. 

He stumbled a little at the mere thought as she let go of him so she could look at him. 

“You, uh, you realise what I have to do, right?” He fought to keep his balance, 

“Uhm lemme think. Ask me a bunch of pointed questions and hope that I trip up?” She rolled her eyes, skating backwards again like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

“What happened to your baby?” He asked, arms flailing a little. 

“What?” She frowned. 

“The last time I saw you, you were pregnant with someone else's baby that you said was mine.” Spencer shrugged but it threw his balance off again and he stumbled before managing to correct himself, 

“Why are you asking me about that? I don’t wanna talk about that.” Her tone suddenly turned defensive. 

“Hormonal changes during pregnancy expand the brain's capacity for empathy. I was actually just trying to see if I could use it against you.” 

“Oh really? What about, um, sex?” She suddenly skated closer to him, really close. Soon her whole body was pressed against his and her arms were wrapping around his neck. “Why don’t you use that against me?”

He instinctively held her by the waist whilst swallowing thickly. She noticed the shift in his eyes, could see exactly what he was thinking about. 

She pulled herself away and shook her head angrily. And then she was raising her arm and her palm collided with the side of Spencer’s face in a slap that echoed around the roller rink. 

Spencer fell to the ground on his knees, hissing at the sensation of the hard floor slamming into his old injury. 

He looked up to see her standing over him, her eyes dark with rage. 

“You can’t even give me five minutes? Five minutes where you aren’t thinking about her?” She spat before she was turning effortlessly and skating away, 

“Cat!” Spencer tried to scabble to his feet. “Cat, wait!” 

By the time he got himself up she was already off the rink, sitting by the side and working her feet out of her skates. 

He managed to push himself towards the edge and used the little wall to guide himself to the opening in the rink. 

“She’ll never love you.” Cat spat harshly, standing back up once she had the skates off. “Not like you love her.” 

“You’re going to make sure of that right?” Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth. “That’s what this is about. “You want Y/N to be scared of me the way she is of her husband.” 

Cat’s expression didn’t change, she was always so hard to read even for a seasoned profiler. 

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Cat folded her arms. “If you can’t go five minutes without thinking about her while you’re here with me then this date is over. Wrap it up boys.” 

Spencer clenched his jaw, glancing over his shoulder towards Luke in the booth and shook his head subtly. 

“You have my undivided attention, I promise.” Spencer spoke as he looked back at her. 

“I don’t believe you.” Cat shook her head. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to prove it to you.” He shrugged, powerlessly. 

“You’re pathetic, do you know that?” She surprised him with her words. 

“How so?” He humoured her. 

“Pining after a married woman all these years.” She clucked. 

“Yeah well I think you know enough about her to know that he’s out of the way now. You’ve had eyes on her, your partner, Juliette, she’s been stalking her. When Jared was arrested you found your perfect time to strike, the perfect leverage over me.

She was at Rossi’s wedding, I remember her. She overheard me talking about Y/N and what happened to her husband and the fact that I have feelings for her. And now you want to use that against me, you want her to hate me because me and my team had Lindsey arrested. I know you’re game, Cat, you’re predictable. And I also know you won’t have her killed because it’s too easy.”

“You think any of this has been easy?” She scoffed. “Clearly I’m not as predictable as you think.”

“What does that mean?” Spencer swallowed thickly. 

“You should have Garcia check her emails.” Her lips turned up into a wicked smirk. 

Spencer felt his blood turn to ice in his veins and he turned back to Luke once more who was already on his phone calling Quantico. 

***

“Ohemgee. Ohemgee!” Penelope screamed as your face materialised on the big screen in the round table room, tied to the chair just like you had been in the photograph. 

Emily nudged her in her arm to silence the blonde as the video started to play. 

“It’s time we talked about why you’re here. Cat Adams wants you to know what your lover boy is really like.” Weaver’s voice flooded the speakers.

She was barely in shot, all of her that could be seen was one shoulder and half of her back. Clearly the point was to have the focus on you. 

“Ah, of course she’s behind this.” You croaked, sounding exhausted. You didn’t look to be injured aside from the dried blood still on your face and matted into your hair. “So this is about Spencer, I’m some kind of pawn in her sick revenge fantasy?” 

“Oh finally, she gets it.” Weaver scoffed. 

“Why me? We’re friends, that’s all.” 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.” Weaver’s shoulder tensed, they all saw it. “I’ve been watching you for a while Y/N, I know exactly what you and Spencer are to each other.” 

Emily, Tara, JJ and Rossi frowned at the screen, not sure what she was getting at. Garcia chewed on her lip guiltily, remembering what Spencer had told her at Rossi’s wedding. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You sighed, but they all saw your jaw tighten. 

“He must mean something to you if you’d cheat on your husband with him. Even if your husband does beat you, it’s still infidelity.” Weaver chuckled.

“She…Spencer…no, no way.” Garcia frowned now. He had not told her that. 

“Shush, Garcia.” Emily scalded her. 

“I don’t know what you think you know, but I would never cheat on my husband.” You told her but all the agents watching knew it was a lie. 

They could read you well enough to know you were bluffing, hopefully Weaver couldn’t. 

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t lie to me if I was you.” Weaver spat and then she raised her arm into frame. 

Penelope gasped as the gun came into view, pointing right at you. Emily, Tara, Rossi and JJ all stood frozen in fear. 

“I hate to break this to you, but you aren’t the first person to hold me hostage. You aren’t the first person to hold a gun to me.” You tried to keep control of the situation, refusing to show her your fear.

“He’s no better than your jerk husband.” Juliette changed the subject. 

“Reid, was right.” JJ muttered under her breath.

“And how would you know that?” You sighed again. 

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.” 

“You mean what he did in prison? I know all about that. He did what he did to survive.” 

JJ wrapped her arms around her body, her legs shaking a little but unable to move to sit down. Emily’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply and she was gnawing on one of her fingernails. Penelope had silent tears rolling down her cheeks beneath her lime green glasses. 

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about what he did after prison.” Weaver chuckled darkly. 

“And what would that be?” You rolled your eyes. 

“His time inside changed him, Y/N. He’s not the same man you fell in love with.” 

“I never said I was in love with him.” 

“Yes, you did.” Juliette laughed again, the gun shaking a little as she did so. 

“I’m getting a little tired of this cryptic thing. Just tell me what you’re talking about.” 

Rossi exhaled loudly through his nose while Tara clenched her hands into fists. 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Juliette chuckled deeply, stepping back behind the camera. 

They saw your eyes follow her, and they also saw the way your body straightened in the chair.

“Reid was right.” JJ repeated. “She was at the wedding, she overheard him talking to Max.”

“Excuse me?” You tried to remain calm. 

“Truth or dare? Please pick truth because I am dying to hear you confess a secret you would never admit out loud.” 

“How do you know about that?” You finally gave over, knowing there was no point in denying it anymore. It didn’t matter how she knew, she did know. 

“I know a lot of things.” Juliette replied curtly. “I know you are in love with him, I know you cheated on your husband with him. And I also know what a monster he is.”  

At the roller rink, crowded around Luke’s phone as they watched the same video, Spencer’s back stiffened and tears flooded his eyes. Matt was holding Cat roughly by the arm a few feet away and he could see her in his peripheral vision. 

“Spencer Reid is not a monster.” You retorted with a scoff.

“Oh really?” Weaver spoke sarcastically. “So you think nice men strangle women?” 

Spencer’s nostrils flared and he closed his eyes briefly trying to stop the tears. Luke’s grip on his phone tightened. 

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that Spencer strangled someone? Ok, I’ll bite, what do you think you know?” 

Spencer held his breath, so did Luke and Matt. So did Emily, Garcia, JJ, Tara and Rossi back at Quantico. 

“You never saw the tapes did you?”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes from the interrogation room in which Spencer Reid held Cat by her throat against a wall and threatened to kill her while she was pregnant.” Juliette spat viciously. 

“That didn’t happen.” You shook your head. 

“Sweetheart, it most certainly did happen. He is worse than your husband, at least you weren’t pregnant when he had his hand around your throat. And to make matters tragically worse, Cat lost her baby as a result.” 

Your eyes widened as you started at Weaver over the camera, your bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Back at Quantico Garcia gasped yet again while JJ shook her head in disbelief.

“Is that true?” Spencer glanced up at Cat, being held roughly by the arm by Matt. “That’s not true.”

“It most certainly is true.” Cat subconsciously placed her other hand on her belly. 

The tears forced their way out of Spencer’s eyes and as he looked back at the phone he saw tears rolling down your cheeks too. 

“No, no that didn’t happen.” You shook your head. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because,” Weaver’s voice had a hint of amusement to it. “Cat wants you to know the truth before I send you to your grave.” 

And then the sound of several gunshots screamed through the tinny phone speakers and the screen suddenly went black. Spencer whimpered, staring at the dark screen for a few seconds before looking up at Cat. 

“What have you done?” His tears streamed hot and angry down his face. “What the fuck have you done?” 

He yanked her free of Matt’s hold and held her roughly by the biceps as he started shaking her.

“This time, I will kill you. I will fucking kill you!” He spat in her face and he shook her harder.

“You can’t win them all, Spencie.” Cat smirked menacingly at him. 

He felt a set of strong hands on his shoulders and Luke was trying to pull him back from Cat while Matt worked on freeing Cat from his hold. 

“Don’t, stop it!” Spencer fought against Luke. “Let me kill her!”

“Not gonna happen, Reid.” Luke growled and between him and Matt they managed to get the two of them apart.

Spencer was breathing heavily, his tears never ending. Luke held his arm as if afraid Spencer would go after her again. He started at Cat through bleary eyes for a moment or two before shaking his head. He snatched his arm out of Luke’s hold and pushed past the other man, away from Cat and towards the door. 

His footsteps were heavy and loud as he stormed away before he did something stupid. When he reached the door he threw it open so violently it bounced back against the wall. 

He fled into the dark night as his breathing got heavier and his vision was almost entirely compromised. His head started to spin, the world started to spin. 

He stumbled down the steps of the roller rink, using the handrail to try and keep himself upright. When he reached the bottom his stomach lurched and he suddenly vomited all over the concrete. 

He vaguely heard the door open but didn’t pay it any attention as he emptied his guts onto the sidewalk. 

Soon there was a hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine in soothing motions. 

“It’s ok, Reid, let it out. Let it all out.” Luke cooed. 

Spencer stayed doubled over until he had nothing left and he simply dry heaved. Tears were still rapidly falling from his eyes when he stood back up.

And when he looked at Luke, he swore the other man’s own eyes were misty with tears. 

***

“Oh my…no…no! No she didn’t…she didn’t…” Penelope stumbled on her heels until she hit the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“She can’t be.” JJ croaked. “She couldn’t…”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked at Rossi through tear riddled eyes.

“It could be a trick.” Tara’s voice was equally as cracked as JJ’s. “It has to be a trick.” 

“We need to find where they are.” Emily spoke, voice devoid of emotion as she continued to stare at the blank screen. “We need a location.” 

“The emails are untraceable.” Penelope whined. 

“There had to be something in the video, some kind of clue.” Rossi agreed, reaching over to Garcia’s laptop. 

“I can’t watch it again.” Garcia sobbed. 

“Go then. Get a cup of tea and calm down.” Emily finally turned to face them. “I know what we just witnessed was beyond horrible. But if Juliette Weaver really did just kill our friend, then she has to pay for what she's done. So regroup, refocus. Y/N needs us.” 

Garcia sniffed and nodded at her boss, turning on her heels and wobbling to the door. JJ followed her whilst Emily, Rossi and Tara stayed put.

Emily gave them both a look, one that asked if they were up for this and they both nodded stiffly. 

“Ok,” Emily swallowed. “Play it again, Dave.” 

***

Spencer couldn’t speak, couldn’t even blink his eyes on the drive back to Quantico. Matt went with swat who were taking Cat back to prison while Luke drove him and Spencer back to the bureau. 

“Reid, you gotta think.” Luke tried to engage him as he drove, glancing at the younger man out of the corner of his eye. “This is a game to Cat, a meticulously crafted game. Nothing is left to chance, wherever Juliette took Y/N means something. You gotta think.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, keeping his eyes trained out of the window of the SUV. 

“What’s the point? She’s dead. It’s over.” His voice sounded haggard, fractured.

“We don’t know that, man. The video cut out, we don’t know she’s dead.” Luke tried to convince him but he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. “And if she isn’t dead, we’ve gotta find her before Weaver kills her for real.” 

Spencer closed his tired eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool window. He tried his hardest to focus on the small details of those images which haunted him, which may haunt him for the rest of his life. 

It was a relatively plain room. The floor was out of shot and he could only see one wall which had been behind you. It was an off white colour, nothing of interest. Nothing stood out in that damn room. 

“They could be anywhere, Luke.” Spencer opened his eyes again. 

“Try harder.” Luke was stern. “There was something, something you’re missing. This place means something to the two of you, it has to.” 

Spencer scrunched his brow in thought as he tried to recall places that might mean something to the two of you. You had fifteen years of history, how could he filter through all of that right now? 

“I really don’t know, Luke.” Spencer groaned. 

“Yes, you do. Somewhere in your brain you know exactly where she is. Your mind is clouded right now because it's trying to process too much. It's the same reason it took you longer than it normally would to recognise Weaver. You know where they are, think. Off of the top of your head, where is a place that means something to you and Y/N?” 

Spencer huffed loudly, closing his eyes again. This time however he didn’t see the images from your final moments behind his lids. 

The sun was shining and he was standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, twiddling his thumbs, feeling like the world's biggest idiot for getting this so wrong. 

“Sorry, sorry I’m late, I know.” Penelope Garcia tottered towards the two of you, pushing her bangs back off her face.

“It’s ok, it doesn’t start for another ten minutes.” You smiled as you embraced her. 

Spencer looked dumbly between you and Garcia, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows so high they almost hit his hairline.

“Happy birthday, boy wonder.” Garcia grinned at him.

“Uh…” He swallowed thickly. “Thanks?”

“Shall we?” You motioned towards the front door of the movie theatre and Garcia nodded, taking the lead.

You hung back a little, looking at the confusion that was still spreading across the young genius's face.

“You don’t mind, do you? Penelope loves Harry Potter almost as much as I do.” 

“Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?” He shook it off but was quickly pushing past you inside. 

As he entered the Film Factory, the hole in the wall movie theatre he took in the scent of popcorn that wafted up his nose and the sounds of you and Penelope chatting among yourself flooded his ears. 

Maybe he could have been a little more specific about his idea of tonight, because clearly you’d gotten the wrong end of the stick and invited Penelope along on what was supposed to be a date. 

He tried to ignore the way his stomach tightened and his chest constricted at his utter stupidity. 

As he passed towards the booth, the small room with the little window peeping out between large, plush red curtains, his eyes scanned over the sign perched above the booth…

“Give me your phone.” Spencer’s eyes shot open and he turned to Luke in a panic.

“Uh, ok?” Luke frowned, fishing in his pocket with one hand whilst keeping the other on the wheel.

He soon handed the device to Spencer and the younger man was quickly trying to navigate his way through the smartphone. After a few failed attempts he found the video again.

He paused it as soon as it started and zoomed in on the still. On the wall behind you, mostly out of frame, he was just able to make out a sign. In cobalt blue he could see the letters FI on one line and FAC on the line below. And underneath that he could see part of a drawing of a film reel. 

“Turn the car around.” Spencer hurriedly told Luke. 

“What?”

“Turn the car around, I know where they are.” 

Luke did as he was told and was quickly making an U-turn whilst switching his lights and siren on. 

“It’s a place called the Film Factory, it’s an old movie theatre that shut down a few years back. I took Y/N there on what was supposed to be our first date but she misunderstood and invited Garcia. We’ve been there countless times since, it’s like a…oh fuck.” Spencer trailed off with a gasp.

“What?” Luke asked as he weaved in and out of traffic. 

“The wedding wasn’t the only place I recognised Weaver from…” 

As he passed towards the booth, the small room with the little window peeping out between large, plush red curtains, his eyes scanned over the sign perched above the booth with the theatre's name and logo before looking at the young girl in the booth. 

She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, possibly even younger. She had dark hair and an incredibly bored expression on her features.

“I just need to grab one more ticket to The Deathly Hallows, please.” Spencer spoke politely,

“Seven bucks.” The young girl smacked a piece of gum in her mouth. 

Spencer handed over a ten and she handed him his change and a third ticket. He felt her eyes on him all the way to the concession stand.

“She worked there. For years actually. She was there nearly every time I’ve been there. She’s seen Y/N and I there on multiple occasions. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.” Spencer shook his head. 

“You were in tunnel vision. Your brain was clouded because this was personal.” Luke stepped on the gas, dialling Emily’s number via his car display.

“My inability to see what was right in front of me might have just gotten her killed.” Spencer spat, balling his hands into fists. 

The phone started to ring. Before Luke could reply Emily had answered. 

“Alvez, how did it go?” 

“That’s not important. We know where Weaver is, we’re heading there now. Reid will send you an address.” 

“Wait for back up when you get there.” Emily instructed. 

Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“With all due respect, Emily,” he spoke harshly. “That’s never going to happen.” 

***

“Because, Cat wants you to know the truth before I send you to your grave.” 

She curled her finger around the trigger and didn’t hesitate in pulling it. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. 

You closed your eyes and screamed out into the small room, knowing it would do no good, no one would hear you. It took you several seconds to realise you didn’t feel any pain. 

Your heart beat frantically against your chest and you slowly opened your eyes to see the woman laughing at you as she put the gun down on the desk.

Your eyes fell down to your torso. No blood, no pain. Blanks. She’d fired blanks. 

Your breathing was erratic, your close brush with death forcing a few tears from your eyes. The woman laughed hysterically at the fear on your face. 

You tried to focus and noticed the red light was off on the camera now. She toyed with both the camera and her phone for a while, still laughing to herself. You could only assume what she must be doing, it was the same she’d done when she’d taken the photograph. 

And if like you’d suspected she was sending it to your team, they would think you were dead. 

“Why don’t you just kill me?” You whined slightly.

“Cat gave me very specific instructions. She doesn’t want you dead, she just wants you to know what kind of a man Spencer Reid really is.” The woman spoke softly, almost like she cared. “You have a type.”

“Spencer is nothing like my husband.” You growled. 

“When I’m done with you, and you scurry back to Quantico, watch the tapes. You’ll see for yourself. He had Cat around the throat just like your husband did to you.” 

“So you don’t plan to kill me?” 

“Well that will depend.” She smirked.

“On what?” You sighed. 

“Cat’s orders. If she doesn’t get what she wants out of Spencer, I may have no choice.” She shrugged.

“Cat Adams is a psychopath. Did she make you feel special? Do you think she cares about you? I hate to break it to you but we’ve seen it before. You aren’t her first partner. She used another woman just like you to have Spencer arrested. But ultimately her game with him was more important than the woman she claimed to love. Cat cheated on Lindsey, got pregnant by a prison guard just so she could pretend she’d had Spencer sexually assaulted. 

Cat doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She will toss you aside as soon as she doesn’t need you anymore. You’re disposable, sweetheart. You’re not special, you’re just the only one who fell for her act.” You didn’t mince your words. 

You saw the woman’s face fall, her nostrils flare at your summation. She moved closer to you and quickly dropped to the floor in front of you. She grabbed your jaw in one hand, digging in firmly with her fingertips. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her!” She spat. 

“I know her better than you do. She’s using you! You will end up in prison for this, whether you kill me or not. And where will she be then?” You dared rile her. 

“You don’t know anything.” The woman spat, tightening her hold on your jaw. 

You saw her other hand moving behind her back and soon you caught the glint of a blade catching the overhead light. 

You swallowed, trying to wriggle free of her hold. She brought the tip of the blade to your chest, right beneath your collarbone. 

“I thought you weren’t going to kill me?” You spoke as she squeezed your jaw. 

“Yeah well,” she let go of your face and pressed the blade harder against your skin. “Plans change.”

***

“Reid, wait!” Luke ran after him towards the boarded up old movie theatre. 

The second the car rolled to a stop Spencer had leapt out of the passenger seat and onto the street, throwing his Kevlar vest on as he went.

“I’m going in there and you can’t stop me.” He barely had it over his head when he was drawing his gun.

“We need to wait for back up.” Luke reminded him, working his own vest on. 

Spencer stopped by the door of the old building, fastening the Velcro straps with one hand. 

“Alvez, if for whatever reason, we didn’t witness Y/N’s death, if she is still alive, she might not have much time.” Spencer stared at him in frustration. 

“If you go in there without back up you might end up dead, Reid.” 

“You’re my back up.” Spencer got his vest done up and turned to the door. “Cover me.”

Before Luke could even blink, Spencer was heading forward, gun outstretched as he reached for the door with his free hand. 

It was unlocked. He shoved it open, eyes quickly taking in the entrance way, gun following his line of sight.

Luke exhaled and drew his firearm, following in Spencer’s footsteps hurriedly. This seemed like a monumentally bad idea, but there was no way Luke was letting him go alone. 

He followed hot on Spencer’s heels as they canvassed the lobby. Spencer clearly had a destination in mind and he pushed forward towards the little ticket booth window. 

The place was a mess of cobwebs and ripped and torn movie posters everywhere. As he walked Luke heard cracking under foot. He looked down, the floor was littered with little beads. 

Popcorn kernels. 

The curtains were draped closed but there was a door to the right hand side. Spencer stopped in front of it and glanced at Luke over his shoulder. His other hand reached for the door handle. 

Spencer’s heart thumped in his chest, beating more fiercely than he’d ever felt it before. His stomach lurched like he might be sick again and he took a deep breath to try and stem the nausea. 

As he tried the handle, another SUV pulled up outside and Emily, JJ, Rossi and Tara all threw themselves from the vehicle. 

Spencer pulled down the handle and shoved open the door.

“FBI don’t move!” He yelled into the small room. 

Juliette Weaver was on her knees on the floor but quickly jumped up, spinning around the chair you occupied and holding a knife to your throat. 

The relief that flooded him seeing you looking back at him, very much alive, was almost overwhelming. His knees buckled a little but he pushed past it. There would be time for him to fall apart later. 

“Welcome to the party Doctor Reid, you’re just in time.” She smirked. 

Spencer’s stomach lurched again at the sight of the blood spilling from an open wound of your chest. Your eyes met briefly as he stepped into the room. 

“Juliette, you don’t want to do this.” He held his hands up before slowly lowering them and holstering his gun. “Put the knife down.”

“I’m not going back to prison.” She shook her head, her other hand was on your shoulder, gripping you tightly. 

“Don’t do this because of Cat. She manipulated you.” Spencer tried to reason with her. 

He was blocking Luke’s shot and Luke was sure he was doing it on purpose. 

“You don’t know her!” Juliette screamed at him, holding you tighter.

You whimpered as the blade pressed harder against your throat. You had tears rolling down your cheeks as you stared at Spencer. 

You tried to commit every little bit of him to memory, convinced this was the last time you’d ever see him. He really was so beautiful, you wished you’d gotten to tell him that. 

“I know she wanted to prove a point.” He held his hands up and took another step forward. “She wanted Y/N to know that I am no better than her husband. It’s true, Y/N, what she said about me. I did try to choke Cat to death because she kidnapped my mother. Prison changed me, maybe I am no different from your husband.”

“Don’t say that.” You sobbed. “It’s not true.”

“It is true.” He nodded. “I would have killed her if JJ hadn’t been there to stop me and I wouldn’t have felt bad. I’m not a good man, Y/N. I’m not the man you think I am.” 

Luke knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make you hate him the way Cat wanted in the hopes if he achieved that Juliette would let you go. 

Luke had his gun trained towards Juliette but Spencer was still blocking his shot. If he just moved a little to the side he could get a clean shot. 

He heard soft footsteps behind him and he didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to. He kept his gun high, on the off chance Spencer would move.

The footsteps crept to his right, further down the corridor. They were surrounding the place, if Weaver made it out of that ticket booth she wouldn’t get much further. 

“Are you listening to him? Do you see now?” Juliette shook you. 

You made eye contact with him again and you understood. You understood what he was trying to do. 

“I see it,” you nodded. “You’re no better than him.” 

Hearing those words from your lips made his stomach lurch again. His jaw clenched and he felt tears behind his eyes. 

“You’ve made your point Juliette. Let her go, please?” Spencer pleaded with her. 

Spencer took another step forward, creating enough space behind him for Luke to manoeuvre into the small room. 

He pointed the gun at Juliette who still had the blade against your throat. 

“Juliette, there’s no way out of this. Put the knife down or I will have to shoot you. You don’t wanna die today.” Luke tried to talk her down.

Her eyes flicked over to him and then back to Spencer. She squeezed your shoulder, blade pressing dangerously against your flesh.

“I ain’t going back to prison.” She repeated and her hand holding the blade twitched. 

Less than a second later Luke fired his weapon. The bullet penetrated her right shoulder, surely hurting her but not killing her. She yelled out in pain, stumbling backwards and dropping the knife from her weakened hand as she fell against the wall and slid to the floor. 

Luke hurried to her side, holstering his weapon and kicking the blade away. She howled again when he knelt in front of her and pressed on her gunshot wound, trying to contain the bleeding.  

“We need a medic!” He called out the door where he knew his team was waiting. 

Soon the small room became crowded, Rossi was by Luke’s side, keeping an eye on Weaver while Emily and JJ holstered their weapons and allowed themselves to breathe a sigh of relief that you were ok. Tara was hurrying behind you and cutting through your bindings. 

Spencer knelt in front of you, his tears now escaping as he looked at you and you looked at him and he thanked every higher power that you were alive. 

Tara helped you stand up, you were still bleeding from the cut on your chest and your legs shook as you stood. Spencer got to his feet too and the two of you continued to stare at each other. 

“We need to get you seen to.” Tara spoke softly, placing a hand on your lower back. 

You nodded but kept your eyes on Spencer, smiling weakly at him. You allowed her to lead you from the room and Spencer watched you go. 

He stood there for some time, letting the tears fall, letting him feel the relief wash over him. He wasn’t aware of what was going on around him, the people moving around, the medic coming to take care of Weaver’s gunshot wound. 

The world seemed to move slowly around him. He could see what was happening but he didn’t feel connected to it. He felt as though he was watching it all unfold from above, no longer tethered to reality. 

He thought he’d watched you die. He thought he’d lost you forever. He hadn’t even had a chance to process your death when he’d found you alive. 

The amount of thoughts running through his brain caused him to switch off from reality while he tried to sift through them. He didn’t feel JJ’s hand on his shoulder, he didn’t notice that she’d led him outside.

He was brought back around by the temperature change as JJ led him out to the sidewalk. He blinked several times taking in the street, the SUVs, two ambulances, lots of people. 

Juliette Weaver was taken to the hospital to be patched up before she would be detained. Cat Adams was on her way back to prison where she would soon meet her end at the hand of the lethal injection. 

Spencer stood still on the sidewalk, his mind unable to shut off. You were supposed to be dead. His brain had already started trying to grieve you. But you weren’t dead. What did that mean now? 

Rossi was at his side now, holding something out in his hand. Without thinking too much, Spencer held out his own hand and Rossi coiled the item into his palm.

When he closed his hand around it, it was cool beneath his fingers. He knew without looking exactly what it was. 

“Hey kid?” Rossi spoke quietly. 

“Hmm?” Spencer croaked.

“Garcia wanted you to know something…”

***

You refused to go to the hospital, that was the last place you wanted to go. The cut on your chest and your head wound weren’t bad enough to warrant it and you insisted the paramedic patch you up in the ambulance. 

Your heart rate was still erratic and you wondered if it would ever return to normal. You had been so sure you were going to die today and that adrenaline still ran through your veins. 

Emily was the first to come and see you, holding her cell phone out for you. When you put it to your ear your children's voice encompassed you, causing you to cry once more. 

“Mommy, when will you be home?” 

“We miss you mom.” 

Knowing they were safe and hearing their voices calmed you a little. Liv had collected them from school when you couldn’t and taken them to her place in case your own home wasn’t safe. It was late and they should have been in bed already, Liv said she would keep them for the night and drop them off at school in the morning. 

You were crying still when you thanked Emily and handed her phone back. When you looked away from Emily, Spencer was hovering nearby, looking unsure if he should come over. You offered him a small smile which gave him the green light. 

Taking a breath he slowly started towards you. Emily saw him coming and patted your shoulder gently.

“I’ll give you a minute.” She whispered before turning and heading away.

Spencer ambled over, hands in his pockets and rolling his lip between his teeth. He cautiously sat down next to you on the lip of the ambulance. He looked at you, his eyes full of so many emotions. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He exhaled shakily. 

“It’s not your fault.” You sniffed, wiping your tears on your sleeve. 

“It kinda is though. She used you as a pawn in her sick and twisted revenge against me.” Spencer shook his head. 

“It’s fine, it’s over now.” You breathed. “You know I don’t really think you’re anything like him? I just said that because I thought it might save my life.” 

He looked away from you, out across the street. His body deflated and he closed his eyes for a few long seconds.

“I wasn’t lying, Y/N, I have changed since prison. What I did to Cat…I don’t feel bad about it. The miscarriage, I do feel bad about. If I had caused that, the death of an unborn child, I would never have forgiven myself. But Garcia checked, she actually miscarried months later. And so I can’t bring myself to feel bad. She kidnapped my mom, she had me arrested. But it makes me no better than your husband.” He shook his head, sniffing lightly.

You placed your hand on his arm and he looked back at you, unshed tears in his eyes. 

“Spencer, I don’t think you’re anything like him.” You shook your head. “You’re probably the only person in the world who has ever really loved me.”

“But things are just….so complicated.” He frowned. 

“True, I probably still have a long battle ahead of me to keep Jared out of my life. I have two kids who are going to need me more than ever. But life is always going to be complicated and messy and if we try to wait for the right time…” you trailed off and squeezed his arm softly.

His eyes flit down to your hand and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw your now empty ring finger resting on his arm. 

“If we try to wait for the right time, we might be waiting another fifteen years?” He finished for you, a small smile creeping to his lips.

“Exactly.” You nodded, your own lip twitching at the corner. 

“But that really begs the question…” 

“Ask me.”

Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, turning his body a little so he was facing you properly. He reached out and took hold of your hand, threading his fingers in yours. 

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Truth or dare?

“Truth.” You replied quickly. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate in responding. “You were my first love, Spence. I was always too scared to admit it and then I met Jared and I thought it might help me get over those feelings. But it didn’t. And I pushed you away and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for doing that.”

“Hey, it’s ok.” He squeezed your hand gently. “I understand. The truth is I don’t know how to be in this world if I’m not wishing for a future with you.”

His free hand went back inside of his pocket and he pulled out the item Rossi had handed him. The silver and gold of the bracelet shimmered in the light from the ambulance. He let go of your hand and you held it out for him to drape the metal around your wrist before he clasped it shut.

You smiled softly at each other, his hand finding yours again and for a moment or two you sat in silence. You took in the street, the old abandoned movie theatre you and Spencer had spent so much time in together. 

All those memories seemed so clear now. All the old horror movies he’d taken you to see which you told him you hated but you secretly loved because when you got scared it gave you an excuse to curl in close to him. 

All the foreign movie festivals you’d gone to, some of which lacked subtitles and Spencer would lean in close and whisper the translations to you. 

All the shared popcorn and the accidental brushing of fingers as you both reached in at the same time. 

The hours you must have spent inside of those walls together, in your own little bubble all came flooding back, all of those adventures you’d watched playing out on the screen side by side. 

And it made perfect sense that you should be sitting here now, on the cusp of your latest adventure together. 

You glanced back at him and as if sensing your eyes on him, he looked at you too. 

“Hey Spence?” You whispered.

“Yeah?” 

“Just to confirm, because you didn’t actually say it…” you trailed off and Spencer chuckled lightly. 

He was quick to move his free hand to your cheek, drawing you closer and then he kissed you. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard fireworks going off like it was the Fourth of July. He was gentle with you but his adoration was spoken silently against your lips. 

It was a new hope, a new beginning. It was two people who had been unfathomably in love with each other for well over a decade finally coming together.

When he pulled back, he didn’t go too far and he kept his hand on your cheek as though scared he might lose you again. He smiled at you softly. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” He laughed.  

“After all this time?” You whispered.

“Always, my love. Always.”

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @frostandflamesfanfic @pixiehex1985 @release-your-sweets @megan-mars @hales-17 @onlyspence @werewolfbansheelove @gubsi @vivian-555 @ropickle @meowiemari @dil3mma @wolfstar-17 @kylakins88 @shqwqrma

[rabbitsonthemoon]

MHA fic plot bunny (eraserdust-ish??? but not really???)

remember when I said I didn't /think/ I'd put any mature content on this blog? hahaha. same vibes as me thinking I'd 'just' write 20k words of a story. I mean, does it count if they don't actually do anything smutty? just that the subject is mature and has sexual themes??? Anyway I'll put it below the cut just in case, advert your eyes if it's not your cuppa.

tw: sex pollen (but not in the way you think), dubcon (in the sense that this Would Not Be Happening At All if not for the sex pollen), sexual themes, fear of noncon (due to misunderstandings), kidnapping, no smut, no romance, no feelings, kind of fuck or die but not really, Tomura is asexual in this one.

got bitten on the ankle by a plot bunny. mature rated MHA fic, partly crack treated seriously, about Shigaraki getting hit with a sex pollen-esque quirk in an attempt to weaken the LOV, except it does take asexuality into account so instead of being overwhelmed by lust and falling apart he's just. so fucking annoyed. so miserable. so done. his cock is not allowed to take that tone with him. the only relief that works for him is physical contact. cuddling and touching. except he doesn't want to touch anyone because of his quirk. he doesn't want to risk dusting one of his party members and the list of people allowed in his personal space is very. sad.

this is after Kurogiri got yoinked and before they found gigantomachia (canon who?), which might help explain why there were only one brain cell left in the LOV. They want to help Tomura, of course. He's miserable and the quirk lasts as long as a common cold if it's left to its own devices. They're also broke as hell. They really wish Kurogiri was there. He would know what to do. As far as a sabotage plot goes, quirking up Shigaraki to weaken the league is unfortunately working, just not in the intented way. he's miserable and it's everyone's problem. the itching is worse than ever and there's only so many spare shirts they're willing to rip up for bandages. point is, they're getting desperate.

and never underestimate the desperation of idiots.

they turn from looking at villains to looking at heroes. obviously it has to be an adult. which removes a hilariously sad amount of people from the pool because most of their heroic beef has been with a class of teenagers.

hey, how about their teacher? the one who erases quirks? tomura is still in absolute misery and completely misses the Signs That Something Is Amiss when he gets asked for his opinion on Eraserhead (he's still cool, wish he was a recruitable party member, his quirk would be useful).

fortunately for them, there's a feral cat hanging around their latest hideout that the whole league has been feeding, like the most poorly-kept secret. the cat is plump and trusting. heroes do things like rescue innocent animals, right?

perfect pro hero bait.

(the amount of heroes who would actually fall for this is a statistical error. Aizawa Shouta, who follows stray cats during his time off, is an anomaly and should not be counted)

cool. pro hero successfully captured. they have until he doesn't show up for his next class before the entire wrath of Yuuei and most of the underground heroics network comes down on their heads. Compress caught him in a marble. Cat was a paid actor and compensated with tuna. Cat is fatter and happier. unfortunately they have to. you know. let him out. It's a bit like trying to prepare and hype up the team to release a pissed-off lion.

cannot emphasise enough what a Terrible No Good Day this is for Aizawa. His evening plans consisted of changing into the comfiest pink sweatpants he has, finishing some grading, and falling asleep on top of the papers. This was not what he signed up for when he followed a weird little girl (disguised Toga) into an alleyway because he heard a cat and was told it needed rescuing. Now he's surrounded by the villains who attacked Class 1-A.

For the LOV, trying to explain themselves while trying to avoid getting their throats ripped out by a underground pro hero with a grudge is a WHOLE different kind of problem. they are. a lot more scared of him than he realizes. and that was before he pulled out the big knife!

In the League's defense, it never crossed their minds that getting into a four-way brawl with Eraser (Toga took a long hike with the cat) while explaining that they kidnapped him because Shigaraki's been hit with a sex pollen quirk and they ran out of options really wasn't A+ communication.

Shigaraki gets drawn to the fuss (read: they're being so fucking noisy while he's trying to sleep through the quirk) and it sure is a moment. misunderstanding cleared very fast, but Dabi is not getting those torn staples back, Twice is very grateful that his mask protected his eyes, and Spinner is Googling if mutant quirk-types can get rabies.

Eraser is suspicious as hell of the whole thing, but the ordeal sounds so stupid that he kind of believes it on principle. he's very glad that the cat is fine. the cat honestly wins more trust than any reassurance that he isn't under any obligation to stay, they just need help and couldn't think of any better way to make him hear them out than kidnapping him. still not allowed to know where he is, though, because it's a nice hideout. (Shigaraki has never come closer to dusting his own teammates.).

Because he's terrifyingly logical and efficient, Eraser is actually hearing them out + he's an absolute demon to bargain with. They get their human hot water bottle that doesn't mind being the recipient of a quirked-up Tomura's clinginess, he gets a free nap and valuable intel about the LOV's future plans and members. Probably nothing the police wouldn't have found eventually, but very neatly packaged instead of taking months to piece together. Sexual intimacy is off the table. He'll Erase Tomura's quirk if he feels threatened. The eye drops stay close by. Either of them can back out at any time. Eraser keeps his mouth shut for privacy's sake. They owe him a bottle of whiskey for the inconvenience and a fucking week of going radio silent on villain work. He wants regular updates on the cat. They keep their end of the bargain, he'll keep his.

Shigaraki would die from embarrassment if he didn't already feel like he was dying from touch starvation. Good thing Eraser is very warm and pliable (caterpillar man), and has seen far too much to be fazed by this. probably knows a thing or two about ways to alleviate the suffering caused by the quirk, like heaping on any pillows and blankets from around the hideout. It's still awkward, of course. Sleepover from hell for both of them basically. There's an inherent sort of trust you need for this that is. not fucking there. but Eraser is trustworthy. even when Tomura's body is reacting with arousal dialed up to eleven, much to his dismay. It's like a sick day. But kinky. Except communication and understanding skips the kinky. Probably the most healthy interaction he's had. (yikes).

ofccourse you can't be cuddling the enemy through a sex pollen buzz without some kind of angst! Tomura isn't going to lie around all day, and his new Erasure hero blanket is portable. You bet he's still being a restless, scratchy bastard, playing his video games, trying to pretend the league isn't hovering like flies. And sure, Eraser's job here is just to laze around for Shigaraki to cling onto, but his trauma??? adoptable??? senses are tingling. Tomura says the most fucked up little things, nestled in those long rants about enemy hitboxes and the plague of heroic society and That Ending Was Bullshit, Actually.

The LOV are running out of nails to bite. doesn't help that Eraser is observant as hell and clocking them whether they like it or not. Kidnapping a pro hero with the keenest fucking sight was A Mistake, Actually, but by now Tomura is satisfied with the arrangement and it's too late for regrets. Eraser's phone might ring, might be Mic because he had a weird feeling today was a prime day for his friend to get kidnapped by villains while looking for a cat under suspicious circumstances, or something. well. his gut wasn't wrong, but Eraser's got it handled, and he wins more trust tokens by rolling a nat 20 on deception, all good here, see you tomorrow, grab me a coffee.

I think in the end the real winner here is the cat. Nothing but a good time for that spoiled little bastard. If Eraser accidentally slightly tames the LOV like a pack of feral cats by proxy, that's entirely covered by their NDA. The quirk breaks by the next day. It's a struggle to get Eraser to leave, because he's having a very comfortable sleep for once + staying in the captivity of the LOV is marginally nicer than being the homeroom teacher of the hell class. Perils of opening your secret villain hideout to the prince of sleep.

They tempt him out with the cat.

I'm gonna write this one into a full fic. ❤️ I'm craving sweets that the bakery (Ao3) does not have!!! I'll make my own then. >:3

[mormshaw]

Title: It’s Okay to Feel

Please read my fanfiction about Izuku after the latest chapter of MHA.  The poor kid is going THROUGH it.  He needs to vent and he needs a hug.

Genre: h/c, angst | Pairing: Gen (no pairing) | Rating: PG-13 | Wordcount: 3971 | Archive: Tumblr

Summary: After his return to school, Izuku Midoriya is forced to deal with his experiences in the war before everything he has gone through destroys him from the inside out.  Continuation of story from MHA 425 onwards.  Canon-compliant (as far as I can guess up to this point).

~--~

Izuku felt everything.

He felt the afternoon June sun beaming down on his neck, more exposed than it usually was, as he slowly bent to stretch his calf muscles.  It was a poor excuse for a warm up.  He tried jogging in place, taking it as easy as he could.  His legs were fine, thank God.  He could do this much.

He felt the skin below his left ribs pull a little, and felt the dull throb that followed. He tried not to wince. The deep wound had been treated with care during his stay in the hospital, and the stitches had since been removed, but it was still raw and his movement was hampered slightly by the pain.  The ugly scar on his abdomen was thankfully hidden under his UA gym clothes.  He had changed last, holding back in the changeroom while his classmates had run outside to the field, not quite ready for them to see.

He felt a lazy summer breeze flit across his face and along the exposed part of this head.  The scars there were less hidden, unfortunately, and the air stung. He was still getting used to looking at himself in the mirror and seeing what looked back.  The long, angry gash on his scalp had needed surgery to properly close.  He had been lucky, the Doctors had said, that his skull hadn’t cleaved from the force of Shigaraki’s attack.  Lucky that his hair, when it finally returned, could hide most of that scar.  The scar that covered his right cheek and creeped down his jaw- there was no hiding that scar. At least in his civilian clothes.

He felt sweat start to bead under his black compression bands, now worn on both arms.   The bands stretched and tugged but hugged his arms closely.  He was used to their embrace by now, but he almost wished they were longer, that they covered more.  He was keeping his arms close to his sides as he breathed through his warm up, trying not to let them get out of his control, to not let them flop around too much. He wasn’t sure if his classmates had noticed yet. He had been so careful yesterday in class, moving as little as possible, saying as little as possible…

He felt his arms.  Sort of.  And the Doctors said that was a good thing. They thought.  Actually, they weren’t sure.  They told him that not many people regrew their arms after losing them so he was all new to them.  They had even brought in a Specialist whose research revolved around people whose quirks allowed them to regrow limbs.  But answers about his chances of healing fully were limited.  In actuality, Izuku knew what was wrong better than they did. He knew. He’d been dreading an outcome like this since his fight with Muscular last summer.  Before. Since his match with Todoroki in the Sports Festival.  Eri’s horn had successfully rewound him, but the effects had stopped just shy of when Shigaraki’s Decay had started to break them down.  It had left them covered in a mottled patchwork of scars and bruises and thin vein-like markings winding their way over his hands, forearms and elbows.  Skin had been gouged out in places, almost as if with an ice cream scoop.  His body’s natural ability to heal, and weeks in bandages, had allowed most of the deeper wounds to scar over, joining the older scar tissue from his previous battles.  But Izuku knew:  he had been warned over and over that his body would not keep bouncing back;  that his arms could be paralyzed if he kept damaging them; that the patchwork of purple that was his skin wasn’t the worst of it.  His muscles and tendons had been rewound, but it had all amounted to too much for the already damaged tissue to heal properly.  Some feeling had returned, sure.  But moving them at all was his new battle.  

He felt insecure about them, yes, and scared.  Simple things were harder now.  He could grab objects with stiff and clumsy fingers. He could bend his elbows with effort and pain.  But everything was harder.  Dressing was harder.  Writing was almost impossible.  Chopsticks were out of the question.  He could form a fist if he really thought about it.  His shoulders were largely fine, so he could lift small objects if he was careful.  His dexterity was just…shot.   Parallel processing was something he had been forced to learn while he had had One For All, so he was managing to think his actions through, but most of the time, his arms just hung loosely at his sides.  Kacchan had told him to follow his lead and keep his arms in a sling to keep them secure, but Izuku wasn’t ready to admit that he needed one.  Kacchan just said he was trying to show him up in their recoveries to “stay ahead”.

He felt everything.  Isolation.  Frustration.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Guilt.  Shame.  Anger.  Weakness.  Loss. Grief.  Depression.  Loneliness.  The war had been disastrous.  He felt no sense of accomplishment or success.  He had not “won” or “saved”.  His physical health, while improving, was taking a toll.  His mental health was poor at best.  His failure to save Tenko Shimura and, though he had said differently to Kachhan, his loss of One For All had left him with an emptiness in his heart that wasn’t going away.  Izuku had taken to imagining a locked door again, and shoving the negative feelings behind it.  But they bubbled under the surface.  Waiting.

Most of all, though, Izuku could feel his classmates' eyes on him.  They were watching his every move.  

“Welcome to your quirk assessment test,” Aizawa drawled, putting an end to the warm up.  Izuku’s focus was forced out of his reverie, onto his teacher.  Aizawa was standing on the ball field, hair sloppily thrown in a bun.  He leered at them for a moment from his good eye, then smiled.  “Are you ready to see how far you’ve come?  To remember where you started?”

Cheers and whoops from his classmates.  Izuku briefly remembered just how nervous he had been on his first day at UA last year when Aizawa had announced that they had to show off “what they could do.”  Kacchan had introduced himself to class 1-A spectacularly, lobbing the ball hundreds of metres down the field.  Kacchan wasn’t here today,  his Doctors arguing that maybe gym class was a little outside his current realm of ability. And Izuku?  He was probably even more nervous today than he had been last April.  Last year he at least had HAD a quirk.

Aizawa stared at them all for a moment.  He nonchalantly tossed a baseball up and caught it, tossed it up, and caught it.  “First, before we get started, I want you to know how proud I am of you all.  Every single one of you went beyond in your first year.  You are heroes already, and I have very little left to teach you.  But we can always improve.  We can always go higher.  Be better.  Throw further.”  He paused, tossing the ball up and catching it again for effect. 

“Now.  Who wants to go first?”

Pause.  

Heads and eyes turned to Izuku.  Izuku could see Kaminari nudge Jiro and point, an excited look in his eyes.  Tsu was watching him closely, her finger to her chin, head tilted, expectant.  Iida adjusted his glasses, waiting. Uraraka was smiling warmly at him and nodding.  Izuku could hear a low murmuring between his classmates, and Izuku understood why.  They wanted to see him in action again.  To see what he could do with One for All this year.  They had been with him the day his last punch had destroyed All For One and “saved the world or whatever”, but they wanted to experience just a little of that excitement and power again, to see just how far that ball could go.  And, likely, to see that he was okay.  They knew he had been badly wounded.  They had seen the recorded video of his battle on the internet that Ikzuku still couldn’t bring himself to watch, but everyone else had viewed on repeat since that day.  They wanted a repeat now.

Pause.

Izuku took a deep, steadying breath and stepped forward.

Pause.

Aizawa seemed to sense the excitement and points of class 2-A and a look of dawning realisation came to his eye.  He took a few quick strides toward Izuku and whispered in his ear.

“Midoriya.  Shit.  I’m sorry.  I thought you’d just watch today.  You don’t have too-”

“No, Mr. Aizawa.  It's okay.  I want to try.”  Aizawa peered at him for a moment, trying to gauge his resolve.  Izuku stared back.  Aizawa seemed to sense that this was important to him and relaxed, smiling briefly. 

“Okay. If you’re sure.”  Aizawa held out the ball.  Izuku focussed.  

Shoulder.  Elbow.  Wrist.  Hand.  Fingers.  Reach. Open.  Bend.  Stretch.  Grasp.  Pain.  Ball acquired.  Fuck.

Izuku stared at the ball in his hand, scarred fingers trying to keep a tight grip on the leather.  There were more calls from his classmates gathered a ways behind him as they watched.

“Yeah, go Midorya!”  Kirishima.

“Show us what you’re made of!”  Sero.

“Go, Deku!”  Uraraka.

“Realistically, Midoriya should throw the ball much further this year, since he is so much stronger.”  Yaoyorozu. 

“Anyone remember last year's distance?” Shoji.

“706.3 metres.” Todoroki.

“Did anyone else notice his arms?”  Shinso.  Huh.

Izuku closed his eyes.  They’d find out sooner or later.  May as well be sooner.  Izuku had not activated the embers of One for All since the battle.  Initially, he’d been recovering in hospital and his health and lack of mobility had prevented experimentation.  A couple of weeks after the war, when he’d moved back to his apartment with his mom and started physiotherapy, he’d been too scared to try.  

He felt them, though.  Deep in his core, a warmth like a candle burned.  Izuku had been doing mental calculations for a while now.  When All Might had transferred One for All to him, it had been February, and his power had steadily declined since then.  Two major fights later, and by July- just six months after- All Might’s embers had been extinguished for good.  

It had already been a month for Izuku, and the last part of his battle with All for One had been entirely dependent on the embers.  Izuku didn’t have much time left, he was sure.

He concentrated.  One for All- Full Cowling.  The candle inside him sputtered for a moment, then the heat grew, expanding outwards, enveloping his body and limbs.  For a moment, Izuku felt comforted by its presence.  Even his arms felt a little better as his blood flowed faster, and the ever-present ache in his muscles relaxed slightly. 

Izuku reached his shoulder back and threw the ball, trying to let the power of his depleted quirk push the ball forward, to not let his arms give way to pain as his elbow unbent in the arc of his movement, and his fingers released their tenuous hold.

The ball left his hand and flew.  Izuku waited.

A couple of seconds later, he could hear a distant “thud” as the ball hit the grass on the far end of the field.  There was silence for a moment, then one of the UA robots announced the result, its mechanical voice piercing into the air:

“154.7 metres.”

He felt their eyes on him again, and no one spoke.  

Izuku turned to face them.  He could see a few mouths hanging open.  He watched them for a moment, but he could take it no longer, and he ran.  Before they could say anything, Izuku ran. No quirk, no embers.  Just his legs, pushing him away from the staring eyes and gaping mouths of class 2-A.   He ran past the bleachers, not really knowing where he was heading, just knowing that he couldn’t stay there.  Through the tunnel back into the school, back to the changerooms.  No thoughts, just heavy breathing, and dull pain in his arms as they flopped uselessly behind him.   

The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the sinks in the changeroom, panic welling up from deep inside.  He was breathing heavily, not just from his run, but from sheer hysteria. His world was crashing down around him.  He glanced up, and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.  He was panting and pale- all colour had drained from his face.  His new scars stood out in sharp contrast to his skin: bright, angry, and red.  The remaining hair on the left side of his skull was damp with sweat.  This was the new Izuku Midoriya: weak, scarred, and broken.  Quirkless.

He felt a desperate anger take over and without realising it, the embers within him sparked and ignited.  His shoulder drew back, his hand formed a fist, and, without feeling the pain that was shooting down his arm, he threw a focused punch at his reflection.  Glass shattered and flew everywhere, showering the changeroom with shards like hail.  The force of the punch let out a blast of pressurized air, scattering the glass, tearing the fluorescent light fixtures from the ceiling and a sink from the wall, and pushing Izuku to the floor as the changeroom fell into darkness but for sparks from the frayed wires in the ceiling.  Water sprayed from the sink pipe and collected in puddles on the tile.

And Izuku cried.  Curled on the floor, covered in glass, knuckles bleeding, Izuku wept for himself and everything that had happened to him.

Sounds of quick footsteps came from the door, followed by crunching glass underfoot.

“Midoriya!  Fuck, are you okay?”

“Midoriya!”  Are you in here?!”

“Midoriya!” Hey, my Dude, answer us!”

The sounds came closer as they crossed the changeroom.

“Here guys, I made us a little light.”

A flashlight beam broke through the darkness of the room and quickly found Izuku, still balled up on the floor, soaking wet from the damaged sink.

There were sounds of running as his classmates quickly closed the gap between them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Midoriya.  Hey, man.  Take a deep breath.”  A hand fell onto Izuku’s shoulder as Kirashima reached him first.  “Guys, he’s hurt, I think.  Can someone run to get Mr. Aizawa and Recovery Girl?”

“On it.”  Hagakure (presumably) turned from the room and left at speed.

“She can’t help me.”  Izuku’s small voice snapped class 2-A to attention.  

Another hand rested on Midoriya.  Iida.  “Midoriya.  Talk to us.  We’re your friends.  What do you mean, ‘she can’t help you’?  Your hand is bleeding.  She can get it all tidied up for you.”

Tsu came forward now, with Todoroki, and together they placed gentle hands under Izuku and helped him to a sitting position.  Tears still welled up in his eyes, running down his face, and his breath came in short, shuddering gasps.

“I mean, she can’t help me. I can’t be helped.  Don’t you think she hasn’t already tried?!  She sat with me for ages afterwards.   Look at my arms!”  

Unconsciously, Yaoyorozu’s flashlight beam shifted to land on Midorya’s arms.  The purple bruises and deep scars stood out in the pale light.

“Oh. Uh.”

A small pause.  

Tokoyami’s deep voice reached out to him.  “Midoriya.  It is okay that you have damaged limbs.  You are strong.  You will recover in time, I am sure of it.  You are already better from when you were in hospital.  You will continue to improve.  Maybe they will not look as they did, but you-”

“One for All is gone. I’m going to be quirkless again.”

Another pause.  No one in class 2-A seemed to have anything to say, though Iida’s hand remained tight on Izuku’s shoulder.  Izuku’s breathing remained quick.  Everything he had felt since that day: the loss, the guilt, the shame, the weight of the world’s expectations came bearing down on him all at once.  

“Aoyama shouldn't have been the one to leave UA, it should have been me.  I can’t be a hero now.  I can barely move and soon even the embers of my power will leave me. How am I going to do hero work now?  I’m just some kid.  Besides, even when I had my quirk, I couldn’t save someone when it really mattered.”  Izuku took a convulsive breath.  His dream that he had worked so hard for, the happiness he had felt the past year, was slipping away from him with each passing moment.  He felt utterly alone, even surrounded by his friends.  He could never keep up with them now.  He would be a liability on the field.

The air in the room fell still.  Only the sound of the water splashing from the pipe and Izuku’s laboured breathing filled the spaces between them.

A cough. Shinso was clearing his throat.  “You know, I can’t throw a ball very far either, and I probably never will.”

Izuku’s head snapped up and he gaped at his new classmate.  Shinso’s intense stare looked back at him, not blinking, entirely serious.

“It’s…not the sa-”

“Yes it is. My quirk doesn’t make me stronger.  Or faster.  Or tougher.  But I worked my ass off to be able to stand next to you and call myself a hero on equal footing.  Don’t you dare look at me and say you can’t do something, when you're the reason I stuck this out. You saved the world, and we helped.  You don’t get to give up on us now.”

“But, I'm not going to get stronger now.  From here on out, I only get weaker.  That’s how this works.  When All Mi-“.

“You are not All Might.”  That was Todoroki.  “Just as I am not my father.  You helped me understand that a long time ago.  I think it's time you start figuring that out for yourself.  All Might may have given you a quirk, but you made it your own.  I’ve watched you more carefully than you know. So just because something happened to All Might, doesn’t mean it will happen the same for you.”

He knew what they were doing. They'd tried this before when he’d abandoned UA back in April.  Had that only been two months ago?  So much had happened.  But back then it was different.  Back then, he had seven quirks inside of him.  Even when he’d been clouded by the obsession of bringing down the League on his own, he had felt powerful and capable.  Now, there was nothing.  No vestiges offering advice, no Black Whip, Fa Jin, or Danger Sense.  It was just broken Izuku and the dying embers of a shattered quirk.

Izuku tried rubbing his tear-streaked face on his shoulder, trying to clear his head. “Look, guys.  Thank you, really, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay here long-term.  I’ve got a couple months, tops, before the embers die out.  My arms are messed up.  The world is expecting me to help them, to fight for them, to be their symbol, and I’m just not going to be able to.  Maybe it's time to think about my future for once.”

Uraraka ran forward at that moment and enveloped Izuku in a tight, and unexpected, hug. He could feel her trembling against him, like she was also crying.  “Oh, Deku.  Your future is here.  It isn’t UA without you.  You are a hero and this is your home.  Please.  Just…keep trying.  We will be there to help you.  You have helped every single one of us be better.  Let us help you continue being a hero.”  Uraraka released him, then backed away into the shadows.  She seemed sad, Izuku thought.  He had thought so yesterday too when he’d tried to talk to her.

There were nods of agreement and murmurs of assent as Izuku tried to find them in the darkness beyond the flashlight beam.  Just then, Iida’s arm came under his own, and he was lifted up to his feet.  “Midoriya.  You and I are meant to keep each other in check.  Don’t follow this path of grief and pain and anger.  You are strong, even without your quirk.  You are happiest when you are helping people.  I’ve seen it time and time again.  No matter how hurt you are, you just keep helping.  Now is no different.  Be happy and keep helping.”

A shuffling sound in the dark, then a spark. Kaminari had lit one of the damaged fluorescent lights with his quirk and illuminated the room again.  Aizawa was standing in the doorway, Recovery Girl at his side, listening to their pleas.  

Aizawa continued to gaze at his class from across the room, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the door.  “They're right, you know.  Every single one of them.  Even quirkless or with damaged limbs you can still be helping.”  It wasn’t lost on Izuku just how personal that was to Aizawa.  “Listen to your classmates.  Besides, I refuse to accept your resignation from this school.  You will graduate with the rest of your classmates next year, I promise you.”

Izuku looked at each one of his classmates.  Their determined looks met his.  Each one of them, he knew, had faced their own traumas in the war.  Some of them were still suffering.  He could see the cap on Jiro’s ear; the burns on Todoroki’s face; the bandage on Kirishima’s head; the careful way Uraraka was holding herself.  

He sighed.  

He stepped forward.

He met them at his new beginning.

He felt lighter.

[twstfanblog]

Are there any other schools like NRC and RSA in your worldbuilding that aren't branch based schools? Defunct dorms no one talks about anymore? Is Noble Bell laundering money from somewhere? I wanna know the education situation, so to speak.

Honestly, in my canon, RSA isn't a branch school. That's purely on the fact that we haven't seen any RSA NPCs with different colored mage stones like NRC students have. RSA has halls for each 'hero dorm', but they're more like. Oh, they gave us support and to show our appreciation we made this themed area of the school. Instead of housewardens, they have a student council that mirrors the NRC boys.

I've talked about it before, like way before hand; but I made Ramshackle the abandoned dorm of Peter Pan. He gave his support because he thought it'd be a good way to have a constant stream of lost boys. But then he realized how boring school was and quickly removed his support. Ramshackle, from that point, fell out of use and didn't get the same updates that the other dorms gained being moved to the mirror chamber.

NRC and RSA are listed as the top schools. But that seems unfair since they're both supposed to read as all boys' schools. So I added the fanon fact that NRC is never written as an all boys school in the charter. It's just been a wild coincidence that everyone admitted so far has been male presenting.

Sadly, I don't have much about Noble Bell as a school so far. I also wanna know why they'd be laundering money XD.

Education wise, there are more schools that aren't purely magic based but offer a few classes for weak mages where they can learn to control their magic and have access to resources. But magical education is expensive and dangerous.

And just as there are all boys' magic schools, there are all girls' magic schools and coed magic schools.

[delyth88]

Random late night thoughts on falling into a fandom.

I'm not really the sort of person who gets excited about a lot of different shows and characters. I mean I enjoy them, but I don't fall in love with them often. I joined Tumblr in 2017 because I saw Thor Ragnarok and then caught up on the MCU and fell in love with Loki. And that's been pretty much it till now.

I'm as old as Tom Hiddleston, so when I was a fan of the Lord of the Rings there wasn't a fandom culture like this online, and Tumblr wasn't around till 2006 even if I had known about it. So without the ability to interact with other people about the movies I loved, they eventually receded in my consciousness.

With Loki and the MCU I found other people who loved him as much as I did and wanted to talk about it! And I discovered fan fiction. So much awesomeness! And there were a lot of excellent stories that really got inside his head and fleshed out the movies and the issues he was dealing with. It meant that I remained fascinated for years. I still am.

I also discovered Tom Hiddleston was a charming and decent man and cared about this character I'd come to love and was actually interested in talking about him - so naturally I devoured all the interviews I could find. I’m not generally one for following actors – it’s a bit of a gamble as to whether they’ll be a jerk or not, so I’m pretty cautious.

Over that time I've watch most of the blogs I know move on to other things, and new people discover how awesome Loki is. But I've never found another character that's captured my imagination quite like Loki. And I've kinda wondered what the magic combination was.

Now I think I've figured out a couple of things in the last few weeks.

I started a rewatch of the X-Men movies, and as it turned out about half of them were not a rewatch but watching them for the first time. (I'm still mildly angry at myself for missing them when they came out - it would have been fun to be in the fandom at that time.) I watched them most evenings I had free and sometimes parts of a movie over multiple nights.  And I think this is one of the things that hooks me into a universe and really makes me care for the characters. 

It was a similar thing for me with the MCU.  There was a lot of canon material already out there by the time I came to it, which meant I was able to immerse myself in the world over several months, and with everything relating to everything else it really helped create that feeling of a real world where these people really exist and the stakes and their relationships with each other are real. It also meant that I got to see Loki grow and change over several movies and several year (sadly not always for the better imo), but again I think this helped with the illusion of real people.

And I think inadvertently I’ve done the same thing with X-Men. I came into it with familiarity from the cartoon as a kid and the original movies, so I was already disposed to like them.  I very much enjoyed the Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart era, but I still didn’t fall down the rabbit hole until part way through Days of Future Past.  I hadn’t seen First Class before, and that was a very pleasant surprise.  I had no expectations and they were far enough removed in age from the previous films that I didn’t find myself comparing them too much. First Class had so much heart! Lots of heart-warming moments getting to know the characters, and some that pulled at the heartstrings too.  I saw that in one sitting.  If I’d watched that over multiple, I may have been hooked earlier. 

I found myself initially enjoying the whole world and how all the characters fit together after First Class.  I was also a little surprised and unsure about this portrayal of Charles Xavier.  He’s always been a favourite character from the Patrick Stewart era, but just in a “I slightly prefer you over the others” kinda way. I suppose that did lead me to pay particular attention to the younger version of Charles. But this new version had an unexpected charm. Now usually I run a mile from characters that are cocky and too self-assured, which objectively Charles is here, but for some reason everything else about him and the film led me to liking his attitude and his heart.

By partway through Days of Future Past, which I watched over multiple evenings, I was actively looking forward to getting home at the end of the day to see more of this character.  And for a brief few days while I finished off the movies I think my hind brain was treating this like looking forward to seeing a real person. Which I found kinda fascinating, and since it doesn’t happen often I paid a bit more attention to this process.

The final nail in the coffin for me was Charles’ aching “You abandoned me!” on the plane. At this point I was 100% rooting for this character and following the next two movies from his point of view.  I was really impressed with how consistent his character seemed to be throughout the first three films of that timeline. After following Loki for so many years I know what inconsistent character personalities can do. :/ It should go without saying therefore that Dark Phoenix didn’t really do it for me.

So I think my recipe for falling in love with characters boils down to three things:

Have a decent amount of material to watch, and watch it in quick succession.

Have a character with strong bonds to others and who has scenes where they’re emotionally vulnerable. Obviously it helps if they’re a good actor.

Have consistent character writing, and believable, compelling, motivations.

And bonus point 4: Have a community to talk about them with.

Oddly, I’d put off watching the X-Men films as late as I could, because I felt I didn’t really have as much headspace and time to give them as I thought they deserved. And I’d half thought I might fall for Magneto, given Loki was my favourite character. They have a lot of similarities – both have had to endure terrible pain and loneliness in their lives, and have been the outcast for one reason or another. They’re both characters whose allegiance changes. The sympathetic villain with a persuasive motivation. They’re both powerful manipulators of the world around them, and of course there’s a very broad similarity in looks (i.e. tall white guy with dark hair).

But no. It was the shorter, less conventionally attractive character, who was the steadfastly ‘good’ one of the pair that stole my heart. The one that could have been really quite boring in contract to Erik.  But I think it was how in so many scenes I feel like I could just see this man’s heart laid bare.  He really tried, and kept trying, to help his friends, and believed in them and the rest of mankind. You could just see the light within him. I initially viewed them as a pair similar to Thor and Loki, but I’ve never found Thor such an engaging character even though he has a similar function and some similar traits.

My brain has decided this is now my blorbo and has dedicated a larger than reasonable section of my mental CPU to him for the meantime. It’s almost like a real crush on a real person. Which is such a strange thing, when you think about it.  Or it just shows there’s a threshold where your brain goes, okay we have enough data points now, we can start caring for these people. It reminds me why I felt like I did for the weeks after Infinity War.  As far as my brain is concerned this is someone I genuinely care about.

It makes me a little sad for people I know who don’t care for stories in this way - books, movies, or television. It’s a joyful, if sometimes inconveniently scheduled, thing to fall in love with people in the tales we tell each other.

[thecozycamper]

I have a question, and while no, you're not forced to answer or even glimpse at it, it has me wondering...Do you or any of your peers, for that matter, ever think about the respawn machine? Not just a simple glimpse, not just "Oh, respawn is respawn." Have any of you ever worried about it?

•|| I just found this blog today I'm going to give him an existential crisis I'm not sorry - Mun

content warning for descriptions of physical injury

It was the first time Sniper had been left in a pile of pure agony. The first time the Australian had experienced respawn, it’d been a sobering experience. He’d gone through almost 30 years of life without giving death a house call, and suddenly in a fraction of a second, he was inside sitting on the couch. A dull ache in his temple, and he hadn’t even noticed the enemy snipers dot. But, it’d been just that. Quick, nearly painless in a way that was almost forgiving… A round to the head, a knife to the back, a lethal blow to the temple. Snipers weren’t a part of the main action, hidden as he was, it would take- DID take-  a short time for the other classes to get smart to his tactics. He’d yet to experience being canon fodder to the frontline. He couldn’t tell whether it’d been on purpose or unintentional, maybe it’d caught on that the marksman was reluctant to seek help when he was injured, and it was a decision to prolong his participation in the ongoing spat for the control point. Splayed out on his front, he couldn't move. Chest rattling with heaving gasps, his nails dug into the floorboards in an attempt to find purchase. Pain, pain, pain. An agonizing numbness that started from the epicenter of it all, spread down into his hips and legs. That thin blade jammed in-between the disks of his shoulder blade had missed its mark. He remembers the voiceless pleas that fell from his lips, reaching out towards the weapons that’d been removed from his person and tossed far away. He doesn’t remember who must have found him in that way, and helped him along. But he remembers coming to in respawn and collapsing onto the cold floor, his brain far delayed to his body.

Respawn was hardly forgiving, but the little mercy it did have was taking away the memory of the last few seconds of your previous life. Sometimes that just wasn’t enough… Everyone had their own theories, and only so few actually know how it works. Sniper wasn’t one of them. He’d heard numerous things over the years… had formed his own ideas, trying to blame his own physical condition rather than acknowledging that the mental toll was so taxing. Death was so normalized. Respawn is normal and death is common. You can believe it as faithfully as you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened, that most of the time you remember how it happened. It didn’t matter that you woke up physically okay, it was like an imprint, some sort of muscle memory. Invisible tolls. Dying so many times to the same thing over and over again. Sniper gets horrible headaches sometimes, right in the smack center of his head. Other times, it’s like his body locks up and stiffens. The center of his spine becomes a pin point for a nonexistent injury that forces him to his knees, and he has to sit there and wait for it to subside. Poor posture and chronic back pain, that’s what he tells himself. — Snipers fiddled with the flayed edge of his glove's thumb, considering the question in a terse silence.

“...S’not my area of expertise. Leave that to the Doc and Truckie.” He starts, “it lets us do our jobs. All I need for it to do. …I don’t think much about it, not the machine itself anyways. I’m no engineer- specially not one to compare to ours. If it works, it works.”

“I worry about my teammates. One thing supportin’ them from my nests and towers outside the fray, seen my mates get themselves into some nasty binds. Sometimes it’s on me to get them out of it. … It’s just, it’s nasty work and some things are better left on the battlefield. Respawn ain’t perfect. It keeps us alive alright, has that part down to a science. Hell, sometimes it’s more tedious if anything. You take a hit in a bad way and come back looking for some retribution.” Sniper pauses to clear his throat, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I just think it’s best they help each other stay sane at the end of the day.”

[xbomboi]

Hi, hello, you’re stuff is absolutely amazing and all the praises.

(Seriously everything eah you’ve made so far feels so canon plausible it’s hard to believe, are you planning to make a career out of these skills/have one? You’d do amazing)

Onto a very generic question I would not be surprised might already be sitting in your inbox.

I am aware that your current project is to continue on ever after high with all the cannon (mostly the cartoon I think, but I can assume the books count too? And maybe doll boxes/diaries? It’s a lot).

If there was one subject you would want to rewrite or remove from canon entirely, what would it be (challenge would be to not name the disaster that is epic winter).

And on a lighter note, favorite/stuck-on-repeat part of the series (I’m sorry this ask is so long, Idnk how to shorten things)?

omg no this isn’t too long at all i’m actually so thrilled to be given something this long to look at!

for starters, in terms of continuing ever after high, my thing is that i want to follow the show canon above all, but i do want to conclude a lot of the stuff touched on in external media such as books and dairies etc. though in doing so i’m not going to treat anything that doesn’t come straight from the show as something to abide by completely. because the show and the books and what not have inconsistencies in numerous ways, such as defining what a royal/rebel is, or characterization, or even the novelizations of the specials having alternate tellings of the stories. i don’t even want to really necessarily change anything mentioned in the books when adapting it so much as ADD to the information provided in ways that aid the story in which i aim to tell.

i.e. the evil queen turning raven’s puppy Prince into a bone rat. what about Nevermore? where was she? WHEN was she? well i think the evil queen could have perhaps, upon feeling remorse, secretly gone and sought out a dragon for raven, and brought Nevermore home without telling raven it was her doing, so that she would have a new pet companion.

anywho, as for your actual questions, for the first one, i’m probably gonna have to go with the whole sequence in Way Too Wonderland when they’re going from class to class. see, when i first watched it, i got this feeling they were going to go from class to class and in each one a different girl in the group would demonstrate their strong point in solving how to pass the class.

if not that, i think i’d change who got to go and do the whole storybook page thing in Thronecoming. i think it should have just been the core four + ashlynn there, really. and less of them could have opened the door for more time getting to see briar seeing what raven’s point of view is like when faced with the reality of her story.

on a more basic note i’d just go back and make sure everyone were not introduced to from the start is actually there. at least, there for Legacy Day. they don’t have to talk or do anything, it would just be nice to know they were THERE.

anywho, in regards to your other question, that’s a tough one. i mean, i have a few. basic answer is raven’s Legacy Day declaration. it’s just iconic and a real powerful moment that shapes the narrative. i love it. there’s also pretty much all of briar’s scenes in Thronecoming. (and obviously her snapping at apple moment. that shit’s too funny.)

BUT also when raven signs the real book in Way Too Wonderland and gets that dark magic power up. i’m a sucker for fight scenes and especially ones with extra narrative weight, so i always appreciated that one + the aftermath of it. and when apple declares raven as a hero. it’s great.

thanks for the ask!

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Character Rundown: The Other Four

Alright, I'm still psyching myself up to go back to reviews, but first, I wanted to do a character rundown of the four characters that got a Miraculous in Penalteam, as they all share the fact that of the Miracukids they're barely utilized. So let's go!

Ivan Bruel

Alright, starting off with the Big Guy. Honestly of the four it's honestly the strangest he didn't get his own episode, considering that the other half of the auxiliary duo he's in, Mylene, got her own episode all about her and making her a Miraculous hero. Like, he'd work well in Optigami against Style Queen as well! Maybe Optigami takes place far earlier in Season 4 so we can get that sweet sweet Lukanette and Adrigami content before it all falls apart and Marinette's parents learn about the whole 'Ladybug and Guardian' thing so they can save her bacon and possibly become Miraculous wielders themselves, and Ivan is one of the few survivors of Style Queen's murderous rampage! There's parallels to him being the first akuma as well! But I guess his character is just going to be "Mylene's girlfriend" instead. As for my interpretations on his character, I read two fanfics that both had a segment that interpreted his silent giant character as very perceptive. In one he figured out the identities of both Ladybug and Chat Noir without seeing them transform, and in another he realized Lila was lying in Chameleon almost immediately and was crucial in taking her down. I really like this interpretation, to the point where I headcanon that he knows the identities of most Miraculous heroes and knew Lila was capping. Also I felt like he was too soft in Penalteam. He doesn't normally want to hurt anyone but if it's for the greater good he'll do it is my interpretation. Other stuff, other stuff... he likes death metal. That combined with him being in Kitty Section makes me believe he's a Jojo fan, because the rest of Kitty Section are definitely Jojo fans. Except maybe Adrien. Maybe not. Also I don't like his voice but that's no biggie to me. Like, if his voice is supposed to deep-yet-crack-y, then I'm chill. Representation for the kids watching this show.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg

Honestly, of all the Miracukids, Nathaniel is the least interesting to me. Like I feel like I know all I need to about him through canon and headcanon. He was bullied for being shy, meek, and Jewish, and that resulted in him becoming mistrustful, vengeful, and at points grouchy. His interests are drawing superhero comics and watching superhero media. Before Marc came along they didn't have too much of a complex ongoing story. He wants to be a comic artist when he grows up, specifically of Ladybug. He's boned if people realize how weird it is to make merch and other stuff of real live superheroes without their permission or even giving them cash. He's bi. He knows the identities of the Miraculous heroes. He has two first cousins once removed. One of his parents is a doctor, while the other can stay at home. Like, that's it. Even moreso is that he keeps on getting forgotten in the Miracuclass. Apparently he just vanished in Zombizou.

Marc Aniel

Honestly Marc feels like he has even less personality and time in-show yet I can headcanon more stuff about him than Nathaniel. Why is he friends with Marinette despite us never seeing him before? In the first year of middle school, he and Marinette were seatmates in the same class, and said class had no Chloe, so they had time to be safe and bond over being victims of bullying and the joy of creation. They're transmasc and nonbinary, using they/he pronouns. They have two moms and zero dads in sight. They got into soccer from soccer yaoi. In general they're a big yaoi consumer, mostly of twink yaoi. They're a wolf furry. They're a weeb, too. Actually maybe he just has more varied interests than Nathaniel. I guess when given the chance they can passionately ramble on about the stories they're writing is my interpretation,

Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina's a fun one, as she wasn't always shoved to the side. She was a main character in season 1, arguably more than Nino was! And honestly, I got a lot of character from her. My interpretation of her is that as a baby child, she imprinted heavily on Roger's ideals and her philosophy is a person's worth is dependent on what they contribute to the lives of others. That, combined with the mommy issues she has from never knowing her mom (I don't know what happened to her,) is the reason why she's so servile to Chloe and at one point Marinette. She loves Chloe and thinks that deep down, Chloe loves her back. Morally, she's true neutral, which is why she's fine with breaking into Marinette's house to steal her diary or locking Juleka in the bathroom. She doesn't necessarily hate them, though. She's just doing her job. She's both an accomplished and a disaster lesbian, and I love her for that. I feel like you could make a damn good long story about her. In general while Julerose is amazing sweet wholesome yuri, Chlobrina is amazing toxic yuri. Why is this show so good with side character yuri?

Also, here's what I think wholesome adult Chlobrina where they both developed as characters and came back together would look like if they were cats:

[horizon-verizon]

If Rhaena gets Sheepstealer then, as far as the book go, that confirms it for me that Nettles really was Daemon’s biological daughter. But in HOTD, instead of bonding with his bastard daughter, Daemon will bond with Rhaena, his trueborn daughter. Laena asking Daemon about their daughters made me realize. Daemon is going to take Rhaena with him, train her in dragonriding arts, and they’ll become closer. She’ll want to step up for her father before they face Aemond and Vhagar, but he sends her away to protect her. Doesn’t make me like the idea more or accept Nettles being cut (because wow, way to just remove one of the only canon black characters IN the original story, and combining two Black women’s stories without understanding how each of them are completely different but both entirely necessary to the story) but as far as just wanting to make a show and not faithfully adapt the book ? Eh. It gets the job done.

rhaenin-time writes in this post's comments about the writers likely making Rhaenyra's later "madeness" into a more shocking spectacle by making her turn against Rhaena & having Rhaenyra turning against Rhaena nonsensical even for the show.

a) IF you are the first adapting a story, the aim should be to tell the original story as it is as best you can without undermining the themes, the plot-time-event sequence, and characterizations...since those make the story. ARE the story. Later adaptations can come in with their alternative storylines, etc. if they wish, but the point of wanting to see the story that you encounter made live....is to see that story made live.

Sometimes you need to make some changes because time constraints, production costs, or you find that you can cut some stuff/add others and the point of an original event from the original has both similar enough WEIGHT and the similar enough MEANING that the audience mostly understands the point of. However, HotD doesn't do these. So I do not see why "as far as just wanting to make a show and not faithfully adapt the book" was supposed to endear or pacify me to such changes? All it looks here is that they think Rhaena and Nettles are interchangeable & the story remains the same....which it does not and it is very obvious why when you read the book.

b) It never made sense for Daemon to treat his daughter, Rhaena, the way he did. That was forced drama. So for him to now have to finally bond with his own daughter from his Black wife only after she has a dragon presents a Daemon who has his come-to-Jesus moment way too late into his arc...he's supposed to come to himself and what he wants in his marriage to Laena.

And no I don't really care abt them having to follow their own bad choices bc of all the costs. Those choices were their own when they had options, therefore we still have the room and right to continue criticizing their later decisions that come from earlier ones. They also decided to be the ones directing this adaptation.

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

below is just a reiteration of why I would never approve of a Rhaena-Nettles merge in any adaptation:

c) Rhaena has trouble hatching her egg; after Rhaenyra & Aegon die and Aegon III ascends, Rhaena's egg finally hatches thus representing some sort of hope and new beginnings but she cannot use said dragon to protect her brother as a war machine and thus still relies on her diplomacy and plotting w/Baela and Alyn Velaryon to do so. It also ensures that their house, for longer, out of the direction of other greedy houses like the Hightowers and the Peakes. However, she at least had the privilege to have access to a eggs to one day bond with.

Nettles is a lowborn teen girl with Valyrian ancestry who's enlisted to fight in the actual war, has likely been discriminated against her entire life whether due to skin or class intersected with her gender, & that matters bc she bonds with a dragon the sort of "twist" or surprise in a young girl having a dragon is precisely that they didn't expect a girl who looks like her to be able to...bc yes you do need Valyrian blood for a dragon to want to bond with you. Dragons "choose" their riders, you can't "tame" them. Nettles also coaxed Sheepstealer to bond with her, unlike nearly every other then wannabe-rider during the "Sowing", does it by continuously and patiently offering Sheepstealer sheep and thus establishing herself to the dragon as one interested in caring for them. A promise is made before the bond. [You can read more on Nettles' connection to Dany, dragonriidng, and her fire-goddess cult HERE on danylanzhou/brideoffires' Twitter thread]

Unlike Rhaena, who was put in the Vale for her protection and to disperse their scions to ensure the family/dynasty's survival, Nettles was in the very midst of fighting, was fighting and in the action of the war. But bc of classism and classism triggered by Ulf & Hugh's Betrayals at Tumbleton, she's also subjected to suspicion from Rhaenyra's council and nearly killed, thus propelling her to have to leave and later inspiring a huge fire goddess cult where people in the particular ethnic group must prove their bravery. Nettles and "Sheep"stealer, as I recently learned, also mimic how the first contact b/t Valyrians and dragons might have went--the first Valyrians were sheep herders in Essos.

Rhaena does not have this parallel, which emphasizes Nettles' ancestry, even as both--for all these reasons concerning dragons and bonding--contextualize and stem from Daenerys Stormborn's own dragon/magical arc.

Aside from all of this, Rhaena was raised alongside Rhaenyra's kids and became one of her own children whereas Nettles, though loyal, was never a "daughter" to Rhaenyra and possibly was one (I think she was, biologically) of Daemon's. It makes much more sense for Rhaenyra to want to execute a person who is "stranger" to her than her own stepdaughter she raised from young. Note, if Nettles WAS Daemon's daughter, she wouldn't have known that and bc he dies and Nettles flies off she would never know as much as she never knew that her youngest son, Viserys, was actually alive. So either Rhaenyra sought to kill her husband's daughter who she may have, once, been more amenable to have around (Nettles was 17, while they had been married for much shorter, so he hadn't cheated on her) if she had known but also bc this ties Nettles much closer to the Targs similarly to how Brynden Rivers was politically. I say Brynden Rivers bc he, like Nettles, was actually very loyal.

So the Rhaena-Nettles merging has little logical basis other than them not reading and understanding their stories thematic wise and/or misogynoir. It also has little moral basis.

How else can you explain to me that we have Hugh Hammer as our smallfolk look-in AND sympathized when he and Ulf are responsible for Tumbleton's Sack bc they wanted to be "kings" or high lords & raping at least one woman during war? And not Nettles, the teen girl from the lowest drudges of society, who had to fend for herself for seemingly a very long time and thus observe others to survive (Hugh was at least a blacksmith with a more reliable profession), who raises herself up from her deprived beginnings through a dragon and her own wits/charm?

[shrinkthisviolet]

Oooo I’d love some background info on i hate (what i’ve become) (or anything else you want to say about it) because I am OBSESSED with that fic (the ANGSTTTTTTT)

OOOOOH I will certainly try to give what background I can!

Admittedly that's one I wrote on a whim without a ton of context behind it, and it's not situated at a specific point in s3 because...for obvious reasons, it's very canon-divergent in many ways, and even I don't know the full details of how 😅 but what I can do is expand on the Saveddie/Thallen dynamic in this fic (and it turns out I have a lot to say about them lol so see below the cut for my rambling thoughts):

Eddie is revived from the dead! This isn't really a secret in the fic ofc—Eddie refers readily to his death as an event that did happen (“Is that why you didn't bother to remember me?” Eddie’s eyes flashed. “Why you were so fixated on Iris the moment I died—why you held back on moving on because she’s not Iris, I guess?”), and Savitar also references it as his own doing (“Didn’t you wonder who brought Eddie back, Barry? Surely you must’ve had your theories.” Savitar smirked. “Did you suspect for even one second that it was actually a version of you? A better version, who isn’t such a spineless coward?”)

Also, you may wonder, what's Savitar's deal? Does he really love Eddie? Is he just using him? The answer is...both! The framing for this fic is that if Eddie hadn't died, Barry might've been brave enough to confess to him, and Westhallen perhaps would've happened...but alas, he did die, and Barry's feelings remained unresolved and screaming in his heart. And ofc...when Savitar is born, he's Barry, so those feelings are screaming in his heart too. He has two goals: a) pretend to kill Iris and preserve his existence, but secretly steal her away/revive her for himself*...and b) revive Eddie so he can finally act on those feelings he never even confessed (oh Savitar...someone must've slept through reading Great Gatsby in English class, or you'd know better!). And since he hops back and forth in time, between the past and the future...he knows that Eddie has the potential for great power as Cobalt Blue, could've taken up the mantle if he hadn't died.

So he revives Eddie and begins seducing him, telling him all about Westallen and painting Barry in the worst possible light (he still has a soft spot for Iris, so he doesn't say as much bad about her—remember, he wants to force Westhallen into existence, wants both Eddie and Iris by his side, so he won't badmouth the love of his life. He will badmouth Barry plenty though—you know how in s9, Eddie's furious at Barry for "stealing" his fiancée? Here, that's something Savitar plants in his head.

Unlike s9 though, Eddie isn't corrupted by an external cosmic force, and he loves Barry and Iris, so he pushes back on this. But Savitar knows exactly how to play on his heartstrings...and pouring in some sympathy for himself gets Eddie on his side (a version of Barry who's thrown away/disregarded by the entire Team after Iris dies? Who's mistreated even by Barry himself? Eddie's furious at the thought). Savitar, also, is not nearly as shy as Barry was, confessing his feelings readily...and acting on them, much to Eddie's giddy delight (his own description) and Savitar's smugness.

Things sour after a while, though. Savitar's possessiveness is far removed from Barry's selfless love, and Eddie notices. He also, however, notices how ruthless Savitar is in defense of what he wants...and figures out very quickly that if he pushes too much, he pisses Savitar off—and Eddie's not so keen to piss off another evil speedster. Though Savitar also complicates this because when he picks up on Eddie's fear, he tones down the aggression and acts more like the sweet, gentle Barry Eddie loved. So on the one hand, Eddie wants to leave, find his way to Team Flash and beg for their help...but on the other, he doesn't want to piss off Savitar, he still has love and sympathy for Savitar due to his similarities to Barry...and he still remembers what Savitar told him about Team Flash mistreating him in the future (when Eddie's particularly doubtful, Savitar reminds him about this, playing up his sympathetic backstory...and ofc it works, keeping those doubts at bay)

Seeing Barry again, though? That opens a floodgate that Eddie is hard-pressed to close again. Seeing the real Barry, desperate and pleading and hopeful—Eddie wants to take his hand and ride into the sunset with him...and with Iris too, when Barry brings her up. But Savitar's ironclad grip on him (literal as well as figurative) presents an obstacle. Even if Eddie wanted to leave (which he does, he realizes as he looks into Barry's eyes, he really, really does), he fears what Savitar might do if Eddie shows too much willingness to leave—maybe not to him, but to Barry. Eddie's seen an evil speedster try to kill Barry before...and although Savitar can't kill Barry, he could still do plenty else. He's a man out of time, older than Barry by 7 years and centuries too...that's terrifying. Eddie doesn't even have a gun, let alone powers (after all, as Savitar told him, what would Eddie need a gun for, when his significant other is the most powerful being in the multiverse?)

But ofc Eddie can't let on. So he keeps the mask up, he's cold to Barry...he convinces Barry he's a lost cause, even as his heart is screaming at him to go after Barry, screw the consequences. But he can't say "screw the consequences", he can't risk harm to Barry, so he keeps up the act and tries not to shed tears about it.

Savitar is delighted about this, of course...but Eddie still has doubts. Minor doubts, of course—Savitar can airbrush over those with more manipulation, and he does (“All Bivolo does,” Savitar said with a sigh, “is amplify feelings that already exist. Barry did love you—otherwise I wouldn’t—but more than that, he hated you all along. He only needed a little push to show you exactly how he felt.” He smiled. “Not unlike you and me...though I’d say that turned out much better for us.”)

And then...Savitar gives Eddie something as a reward (or rather, he promises to): a way to defend himself. The implication, ofc, being that he's going to turn Eddie into Cobalt Blue.

*this never comes up in the oneshot, but it's implicit in almost everything Savitar-related I write, and it's my headcanon for him