#but social work. with the way he grew up (and we love sally we know she was with gabe to protect him) and what he saw at the hands of the | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-avengers-ate-my-tongue · 4 years

Text

Scars (Smut)

Scars

Summary: You hadn't seen Will ever since the day he left you to chase Hannibal in Florence, finding out after a while that he got married to someone else. But with the murders of the tooth fairy, Jack asked him to come back to help, and he couldn't stay away anymore, showing up for a visit. Will the old scars of your heart burst open in new wounds or heal completely?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, spoilers from season 3.

Word count: 3.381

A/n: this is the first smut I write in English, it's not my first language, so I hope it's alright. Any mistakes or anything, just let me know. This is another one with my boi Will, I just love him so much AAAAAA

As I read The Wuthering Heights for the hundredth time sitting in the living room, I heard someone ring the doorbell. I sighed, staring at the clock. It was still early. The person I was expecting would just come in, after all, Alana was a close friend and she knew she was allowed to do so. I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't expecting anybody else.

My dog, Sally, started to bark thunderously, sniffing under the door. I closed the book lethargicly, rolling my eyes as I got up the couch in a lazy mood, walking to the door and opening without asking who was outside, realizing perhaps too soon it was a mistake.

Will Graham stared at me, a light smile in his handsome face that didn't reach his eyes. I felt like something was twitching my stomach, and probably turned albescent. I hadn't seen him in over three years. Alana warned me he was back in town to work on the tooth fairy's case, but I didn't think he would stop by for a visit. Not after so long.

"Good to see you, Y/n." He tried, obtaining no response of mine. "I… I was just around the neighborhood and I wanted to see you. It's been a while."

"Who gave you my address?" I retorted, probably sounding more hostile than I intended. He stepped back, scratching the back of his neck, probably already regretting the impulsive idea.

"Jack."

"Of course he did. What else did he tell you?"

"Was there anything else he should've told me?" I searched his face for any sign of emotions, but didn't get anything that could tell me what he was feeling. The old Will was someone I could always read, no matter what. After Hannibal came along, he just started to show less and less emotions, till his face became a cold mask, his deep eyes empty, opaque. I missed the sweet, caring Will.

I was just standing there, silent. Sally found some space between my legs and managed to get out the house, launching at Will, wagging her tail and trying to get close enough of his ears so she could lick them. Will laughed lightly, crouching down to pet her.

"Who's this?" He asked, scratching behind her ears. I crossed my arms, I gave everything to that dog, undying love, a bed, high quality food, and now she backstabs me.

"That's Sally. She's a stray I took in one year and a half ago. Sally, sweetheart, come inside." I whistled once and she obeyed, running through my legs again. I sighed, stepping away from the door so he could come in. Maybe he wouldn't stay for long if I just let him in. He hesitated, but entered, passing through me. I could smell the air as he passed, he still used the same aftershave. That hurt even more, and I could feel my eyes watering a little. Why did he have to come? Why was he here? What does he want?

I tried to hide it, opening the kitchen door so Sally could play in the backyard, then walking to the sideboard where I kept whisky.

"Would you like some?" I inquired, still not feeling safe enough to face him. "I'm pouring myself one."

"Sure. Please. Neat." He replied, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching every single movement I made. That made my hands tremble a bit, and I cursed in a whisper when I spilled a little bit of the drink. So fucking clumsy.

I finally faced him when I felt my eyes get dryer, smiling lightly as I gave him the glass of whisky, neat. Our fingers touched a bit and I sat beside him, albeit a little far, taking a long sip of my glass. We stayed like that for a few minutes, two strangers that used to know each other, love each other. My eyes traveled through his face and I distinguished some new scars, probably from the great encounter with Hannibal Lecter and Mason Verger a few years ago. I remembered the way I used to kiss every single scar he had, I loved every part of Will, his scars were part of his story, part of who he was.

He lowered his eyes for a moment, smiling as he saw the book standing on the coffee table.

"Is it still your favorite? Wuthering Heights." He grabbed the book, opening the first page. There was the name I didn't use anymore. Y/n Graham. He gave me that edition as a Christmas gift a long time ago, and I couldn't get rid of it, fantasizing that after such a long time, I could still feel Will's scent in it.

"Undoubtedly. Every time I read it it's like the first. Except maybe now it's even more bitter." I avoided facing him, staring at the book, suddenly feeling pretty silly. He didn't ask. He knew why.

"I suppose Heathcliff's still your favorite character."

"Now more than even, guess I finally understand his suffering." I regretted sounding so harsh, but it was said now. Will clenched his jaw.

"So you're saying I'm your Catherine?"

"I don't know. Am I?" I teased, hugging my body protectively. "Why are you here, Will? Why did you have to come? To torment me? You left three years ago after I begged you to stay, you just had to go after Hannibal, pursue your hunt. I allowed you to go, but I couldn't be there when you returned. I didn't even know you would return alive or if I would see a miserable Jack Crawford knocking on my door with grief in his face. I wouldn't bear it. So I left, but I kept expecting you to come find me if you ever got back. Then, Hannibal was finally arrested. I thought it was finally over, but you never came. You left again, and a while later I heard…"

My eyes traveled through his hands and I saw it. The wedding ring. That hurt so much I finally felt tears wetting my face, and dismissed them quickly with one hand.

"So it is true. You did get married." My voice sounded venomous, sharp as a knife. "Lucky girl. We didn't even get to that stage. Engagement was the maximum."

He was silent, allowing me to vent. As I haven't done that a lot with Alana already. His eyes were finally wet, finally some emotion on his face. That handsome face. That face I would never get tired of. I wanted to kiss them away, hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but it wouldn't. That teacup would never gather itself up again. We were two broken souls.

"I thought you wouldn't want me anymore. I wasn't the man you once met, the man you fell for, I was no longer good for you, if I ever have been. Hannibal changed me in ways you could never understand, ways even I don't understand."

"Hannibal changed all of us. Like a poison ivy that found its way into our cores and grew roots there. I can still feel his damage inside me, like… A cancer. It spreads. It tastes like metal at the tip of my tongue. I saw his face in my dreams for a very long time after you left. I still see him sometimes, not necessarily in my dreams…" I stopped talking as he grabbed my hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. I realized how much I missed his hands. They were a little rough due to how much he worked with them, but it never bothered me. It was ridiculous how much he could still affect me with a single touch, a look.

"I wanted to start over. Leave everything behind. I wanted to… Flee from that darkness that nested me. But it followed me, as it does wherever I go. I wanted someone pure, so it could contain it, or even diminish it. But you, Y/n… You never left my mind. I could never suppress you." He raised his hand, touching my cheek with cold, pale fingers. That touch made me close my eyes, his voice working like a balsam inside of me. I sighed, totally giving in.

Will got closer, his lips touching mine with such delicacy. I touched his hair, grabbing some on the back of his neck, pulling it lightly. That made him release a low groan, as the kiss started to get deeper. I moved my body, wanting to stay as close to him as the laws of physics allowed, and when I felt his tongue touch mine, fireworks eclode from my chest, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's.

I still loved him, of course I did. I never stopped. All the bitterness he left with his departure started to boil on my chest, becoming something else, something I couldn't figure out yet. His lips moved from mine to my neck, and I moaned a little louder, sinking my nails on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to my thigh and I allowed myself to lie down on the couch, pulling him with me. He lifted my leg and I embraced his waist with them, feelings mixtured inside my chest. That was wrong, he was a married man now. He had a wife waiting for him back home.

But, for a moment while he stared at me, our foreheads glued together, I saw my Will in his eyes. I saw the Will I first met, the socially awkward man Alana introduced me years ago and couldn't even stare me in the eyes, the kind, caring man I once knew. One single tear fell from his eye, and I knew he was probably conflicted as well. I kissed it away, kissing his lips again, a deep, slow kiss that made my insides chiver. I needed him so much. Even if it was just one time. Just for today. I needed that kind of closure.

I unbottoned his shirt, sinking my fingers into the skin of his biceps. He threw it on the floor, going for my clothes, and I thanked myself mentally for a moment for wearing a dress. He'd seen it before, he'd taken it off many times. He lifted the piece of clothing above my head and I threw it away gladly, kissing his neck while opening his pants. He kicked off his shoes, doing the same with the pants and underwear as I took off my bra. He took a while to stare at my body, his pupils so dilated with lust his eyes were almost completely black.

"No one looks at me the way you do." I said, noticing I haven't heard that tone in my voice for a very long time.

He pulled my panties off and rested his hips on mine, shutting his eyes as he slipped slowly inside of me. I let out a low gasp, trying to stabilize my breathing. Will hid his face on my neck and I could feel his hot breathing and the light scratches of his beard. Still slowly, he started to move inside me, thrusting back and forth. I bit my bottom lip as I tried to suppress a groan, and one of his hands grabbed my breast, his thumb stimulating the nipple. Will knew all my "buttons". Where to push, where to hold, so I could melt in his hands.

He started to thrust faster and faster, and I could feel the familiar feeling growing at the bottom of my stomach. A few more minutes and I lifted my head up, shutting my eyes as the pleasure started to grow.

"No." Will said almost in a whisper, pulling my chin down. "Let me see your face. I need it."

I stared at him while we both climaxed, a loud cry leaving my lips and Will's almost louder groan echoing through my ears. He dropped his body on mine, both of us covered in sweat and bodily fluids. We stayed that way until we could breathe normally again, his head on my chest and my fingers playing with his hair.

I wanted to say so many things. How much I loved him. How much I wanted him to stay. How much I've missed him. But he knew. He always knew. After that, we showered together to get rid of the sweat, and even then we couldn't stay away from each other. He hugged me while the water washed our body, kissing sometimes my lips, sometimes my forehead, my neck, my shoulder. I kissed every single one of his scars, as I used to do. I thought I'd seen tears on his face, but it might have been the water pouring from the shower.

After we finished the shower, he got dressed and I put on a robe, my hair wetting the silk. Will took my face in his hands, kissing my lips with tenderness. I wanted to ask him to stay. He knew that. I wanted him to leave before I made a fool of myself.

He was still holding my face when the door suddenly opened and I pushed him away quickly.

Alana entered, looking from Will to me, and I knew I would get scolded later for that. She noticed, always cunning.

"Well, just look what the cat dragged in." She said with sarcasm, the door still open. "Hi, Will. Long time no see."

"Alana." He said, seeming surprised. She didn't have time to answer, though. Her son, Morgan, entered the house accompanied by my little world.

"Mommy!" The dark haired child ran to me, bringing a smile to my face as I crouched down to hug him.

"My beautiful boy! Did you have fun at the zoo?" I asked, forgetting about Will's presence for a while. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble, Alana. Henry, did you behave?"

"Mommy, we saw a lion! He roared, and then we saw the giraffes, and the tiger…"

"Look at you dodging my question! Very canny." I laughed, hugging him again.

"He always behaves, you know that. He's a good kid." Alana answered, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring directly at Will.

I looked at him. His eyes were on Henry, he seemed shocked, astonished.

"I'll be on my way, then. I'll call you later." She said almost like a threat, making me smile.

"Okay. Bye, Morgan. Send my regards to Margot, Alana, and come to dinner at the end of the week."

"Will do. See you around, Will." She closed the door behind her, leaving me with the two people I loved the most.

"Henry, this is Will. He's an old friend of mommy's. Won't you say hello?" I brought him closer to Will, and he got down on his knees, his eyes wet.

"Hi, Henry." He greeted, smiling with joy. Real joy. I smiled back, caressing Henry's hair. "It's nice meeting you."

"Hi." He replied with shyness, hiding behind my body. That made me laugh lightly.

"Baby, why don't you go upstairs and draw a picture of that lion you saw? How about that?" I asked him, kissing the top of his head.

"Okay, mommy." He started to climb up the stairs as Will still stared at him, seeming amazed.

"Is he… Is he…" Will tried to formulate his words, emotion breaking his voice.

"Yes. He's yours. Not difficult to notice, right? He looks just like you." I replied, wiping the tears away. "I found out I was pregnant a few days after you left. When you came back and Hannibal was arrested, I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to stick with me just because of the baby, so I just… Didn't. He was about a year old when I found out you got married. Alana is his godmother, she helped me so much. She and Margot. He's just a little younger than their son, Morgan, they're best friends. Henry's very smart. He's a joyful child. He's kind, caring to others. He reminds me of you all the time. He's my biggest accomplishment."

Will's face was blushed from crying, but he smiled through the tears, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Mommy!" Henry called from the top of the stairs, crayons on his hands. "Can I show Hannibal the drawing?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I grimaced, feeling Will's gaze on me. He wasn't supposed to find out that way, I didn't even have the time to tell him slowly so I could try to explain what made no sense.

"Ahn… Sure, honey. Sure. If you want. Now go to your room for a bit, okay? Mommy will see you in a minute, and then you can show me the drawing." I waited until he entered the room, hearing the door shut. I turned myself to Will.

"Did I hear it right? Hannibal?" Will raised his voice a little and I gestured him to keep his voice down. "Hannibal has seen the kid? You're taking him to see Hannibal?"

"I know how it sounds, just let me explain…" I asked, noticing the change in his eyes. They were once again cold, but sharp. He was angry.

"How do you explain this? Y/n? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes! Yes, I fucking have! I lost my mind when you left, goddamnit!" I screamed, covering my mouth, hoping Henry would not come out of his bedroom. "Hannibal was the last link I had with you. So I sought comfort with the only one who would understand what was like to lose you. Because no one fucking did. Even Alana couldn't help me. So yes, I turned to Hannibal. Because he knows what's like to love you, to ache for you. And you don't get to judge me for that."

Will's eyes were wide, like he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"Besides…" I sniffed, rubbing my face with my hands "Hannibal cares for him. I know it. And Henry just adores him, Will, you should see…"

"My God, listen to what you're saying, Y/n! Listen to yourself!" He grabbed my face with his hands a little roughly, making me hold his wrists. "He's a killer. He's a cold killer. Can't you see how dangerous it is?"

"Well, we're all fucking killers!" I pushed him away, breathing hard. "Or have you forgotten about it? The night we killed Randall Tier? You really think that wouldn't stain me? Or maybe you do, and that's why you married another woman, with all her purity, because you couldn't bear to see how much you and Hannibal have broken me!"

He kept staring at me with that look in his eyes, the cold, sharp look that made me shiver. For a moment, I felt the danger of him trying to take my kid away. Would he even consider that? No. No one would take my child away from me. He was mine.

"This was a bad idea, I should've never allowed you to come inside. Please, leave." I asked, pointing to the door.

He stayed put.

"Will, you better leave. Now. I'm warning you." I stepped away from him, but he pulled me closer, hugging me tightly. I hid my face in his chest, sobbing, hitting him weakly on the shoulders with my fists. "Just go, please. Just go."

"We'll figure it out. Everything will be fine." He kissed me for the last time, letting me go. I knew he would be back. He stared at me once more, and finally left, closing the door behind me.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" I heard Henry's voice and turned to look at him coming down the stairs, kneeling to hug him. "Please mommy, don't cry!"

"It's okay, baby. Mommy is fine. Everything will be okay. How about a nice bath before we go see Hannibal, uh? Let's go."

"With bubbles?" He asked, clapping in joy. I smiled back to him, caressing his hair.

"With bubbles. Lots of bubbles." I kissed the top of his head and rushed him to the bathroom, an uneasy feeling pumping on my chest. I knew that wouldn't be the last time I saw Will. He would be back. Yes, he would.

#hannibal #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham headcanon #will graham imagine #hannibal imagine #will graham x reader #alana bloom #alana bloom imagine

357 notes · View notes

tuixlaa · 3 years

Text

Imagine being so fucked in the head you celebrate the "confirmation" of pedophilia. You're celebrating the concept that a girl from 8 years old to maybe early teens has been groomed for one purpose be a baby maker. And that to make this happen they made his of age brother's wife suffer plot device pregnancy complications so they didn't look as disgusting as they are.

This is not to be celebrated and god forbid any sessrin fuckers have children who are raised that this is ok because "uwu it's just a shipppppp." That same mentality allowed pedos to create MAPs into a identity because it's been so watered down that there are people who believe certain emotions are identities. I should know I grew up with parents who worked in social work with emphasis on children. I was raised on certain things I could not say because it was something that could harm one of the children in my parents care.

I'm positive none of these fucks have read Lolita which covers this exact concept. A man lusting over a young girl who is in no way of sound mind or mentality to consent to the acts he imposed on her. She runs away and is struggling pregnant at 17 and dies in childbirth. What you sick fucks probably don't know is this is based on an actual case. That of Sally Horner, who was tricked by a 50 year old man after getting caught stealing a notebook. He told her he was FBI She was taken by him and assaulted for 2 years while he told those around she was his daughter. She died at 15 years old This is what you are telling children is ok, this is what you're screaming to high heaven is fine because it's just a ship of fiction. You are telling pedophiles all they have to do is akin their disgusting actions to a fairytale. This is why people condemn sessrin, because we know this is exactly what pedophiles use to justify going after young impressionable children.

Kagome was not 8 years old when she met Inuyasha he didn't have power over her. Kagome wasn't alone in the world when she encountered him, she had a support system to return too; even returned to her time to finish her education. Rin had none of these there is no room for interpretation when even the now Canon is dangerously close to her not even being 17 when maybe being the mother. Rin was never allowed to grow away from her now groomer she was never given the choice to learn outside of her obsession with the man who saved her. Even Disney has pulled away from love at first sight as troupe because it isn't reflective of standards today. And in Disney's defense each princess was more independent to the last. All the way to Moana who is independent of a love interest and about her own journey. Toxic media is fine when it is accepted as toxic media and not to be celebrated. No one actually says Ariel is fine for her whirlwind romance of Eric, but we do recognize shes not 8 fucking years old and raised with the knowledge that he saved her. Eric is also only 2 fucking years older than Ariel as opposed to 900 mentality 19.

In conclusion sessrin is still disgusting and the shippers are heralding in the normalization of this concept to impressionable children.

#the ooc of the moon #inuyasha #yashahime #anti sessrin

89 notes · View notes

vegetacide · 3 years

Text

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 6)

Veg • notables: Little something for Fluffember .. works for several prompts... Brothers, warmth and together...

Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K) Scott, Alan, John, Gordon and Grandma.

Location: TaG-verse AU | Tracy Island

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 6 - Keluarga

The flight home was thankfully an uneventful affair.

Kayo had fallen asleep almost as soon as the jet’s door had been closed and Virgil had been by her side holding her hand the whole way back to their island.

When the island finally came into sight there was a collective sigh of relief. The stress of everything having sucked the energy right out of all of them and home meant safety, comfort and more importantly; sleep.

Tucking Kayo safely back into their marital bed saw Virgil relaxing for the first time since… well since he’d woken up that morning..God, had it only been twelve hours ago? It felt like a lifetime and the exhaustion weighed on him furiously.

Not that he would be able to get much sleep tonight.

Leaning over his sleeping wife, he adjusted the sheets and brushed her forehead with a kiss. She stirred slightly and turned into him, always one to seek his heat even on a tropical island and her eyes blinked open myopically.

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re home. Go back to sleep.”

Kayo snuggled further under the covers and quiet ‘Love you’ drifted his way as he emptied his pockets of his ID, wallet and personal communication.

A light knock on their door, had him turning and he toed off his boots to muffle his movements before he traversed the short distance. Opening it he was only mildly surprised to find his brothers on the other side.. All of them.

Holding up a finger he glanced back into the room to make sure everything was in order and that Kayo would have everything she needed. Not that it looked like she would be rising anytime soon. The whole affair of the day had done her in.

Truthfully, he was happy she was finally getting some rest even if it was ordered and dismantling Shadow had been in his back pocket as a way to convenience her.

Surprisingly though after going through all the details with his family when they were discharged, Kayo looked like she wasn’t in the mood for any more lecturing so the Shadow card hadn’t needed to be played.

She’d barely moved since they’d left the hospital except when he’d move her. He’d woken her up long enough to pour a drink of electrolytes down her throat and a protein bar into her belly and she’d been out again barely after swallowing the lot.

An uncomfortable trip to the bathroom later which his Grandmother had seen to though he had been hovering just outside the door in case he was needed. A change of clothes and into bed she went. Out like a light again before her head even hit the pillow.

He was done in himself but his brain was running in circles which didn’t look like it would be giving up anything time soon. So the company just outside the door was a welcome distraction.

Satisfied that his wife would be alright. He set his comms to alert him if she woke up and carefully crept out the door.

“Hey Virg,” Alan whispered, stepping up to his brother and giving him a hug. “How’s Kay? She gonna be alright?”

Virgil hugged his brother back, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair while he was at it.

Alan grumbled at the action and wiggled away. Smoothing his hair back into place as soon as he was free and Virgil couldn’t help the smile that upturned his lips at the disgruntled look his littlest brother shot him.

“Hey Space Case. She’s sleeping but Doc said she’ll be alright. She just needs to get some rest.”

“Looks like you could use some yourself.” Gordon observed and moved in for a hug as well.

“Thanks, Squid. Glad you noticed.”

“Well someone has to keep you honest and Kayo..” His eyes did a sweep of him from head to toe. “Well, she’s blinded by all that muscle."

The swat Virgil sent the aquanau's way as easily dodged as he danced out of reach.

Laughing as he used Alan as a human shield who protested loudly at being manhandled, he tossed out “All that bulk is slowing you down, you should lay off the protein shakes.”

Virgil just rolled his eyes. Trust Gordon to do whatever he could to lighten the mood with whatever tomfoolery he had at his disposal.

It was at that point that he noticed John standing in the back of the crowd of brotherly forms. “John, when did you get here?’

John just shrugged, “Not long ago. I came as soon as I could but that storm system off the coast made taking the elevator down impossible.

“It’s good to see ya in the flesh.” Virgil smiled, stepping forward enveloping the communications expert in a hug. John’s hugs were rare but the returned squeeze was given freely, a testament to the support system his brothers were offering.

“You too, brother mine.”

Scott stepped up next, though he’d been at the hospital with the couple. “Anything you need, let us know.” He offered and the round of hugging continued.

“I know and I appreciate it.”

He could always count on his family when the chips were down, there was no doubt about that.

Scott released him, one hand giving his shoulder a squeeze and tipped his head towards the door at Virgil’s back. “Doc’s made arrangements to come out in a couple weeks' time. Just had the call come through with the details. Shouldn’t be a problem getting him out here for it. Between us and Aunt Val we have plenty of pilots who can give him a lift.”

“Great, I’m sure Kay will be thrilled.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed again and Scott gave him a knowing look.

“She’s a fighter. Hates being benched just as badly if not more so than we do.”

“That’s what I’m worried about..”

“Meh don’t worry about it. With the Great Doctor Sally Tracy with her sights set on her, Kayo doesn’t stand a chance.” Gordon piped up. “Trust me on that one. She’ll be lucky if she can manage to wiggle a toe without Grandma noticing.”

“Well she had to be super vigilant with you, Gordo. We still have no clue how you managed to change the electronic audio to Spanish from the couch.”

Gordon stood up taller, primped in all his mastery of everything prankster. “Trade secret. If I tell you, I would have to kill you.”

This time there was no dodging the swats directed at his head from three older siblings though Alan yet again shrieked in protest as he was tossed about like a sac of meat.

Sally was a practical woman with simple tastes and simple pleasures. A night of bridge with the girls at the local social club, bocce ball every other Tuesday with fellow medical alumni and curling once a month with her bereavement group who had become like an extended family to her after her husband had passed.

Simple things, never extravagant.

She grew up with the mentality that to get what you wanted took hard work and determination. Blood, sweat and tears was her motto through her years of medical training and her intern placement in one of the busiest hospitals in the U.S.

She’d worked hard to get where she was today despite the trials and tribulations of being widowed, dealing with her own grief and that of her son’s and taking charge of his young brood while he wallowed in his pain.

She didn’t fault Jeff for his actions, she understood them intimately. She’d lost herself in taking care of the boys to help keep the pain at bay. Oftentimes pushing them just as hard as she did herself. In the end though despite the odds, she thought everything had turned out all right.

Was the road easy? No. Far from it. Was there things she wished she had handled differently? Of course. Her son disappearing into a bottle of despair being one of them. But the boys had been raised well by their dear mother even if only for a short time.

The eldest who remembered her memory took that care, love and devotion their mother had been known for and poured it into the younger two. Doing everything within the power of their shattered world to keep the family in one cohesive piece even when their father was absent both mentally and physically.

They’d survived and come out the other end stronger than anything she could have imagined and she wasn’t afraid to admit it and how proud she was of every single one of them.

And true form when one of the brothers stumbled the other four were right there to steady him and get him back on his feet. Providing whatever support that was needed in their own individual ways.

When others would bolt, her boys rallied. Diving in head first to shore up whoever was in need. It’s what made them great at what they did. That core strength of love and support radiated out of everything they touched and because of that they’d helped more than she could count.

Here she was, coming to check on her adoptive granddaughter and her loving boys where right were she expecting them to be. Standing as a unit outside Virgil’s door. Surrounding him and holding him up with hugs, pats on the back and caring words.

She stopped and kept back a few paces, letting them have their moment and watching all the love. They deserved this moment cause they were few and so far in between.

Rescuing the world didn’t leave much time for brotherly interaction and these precious moments needed to be cherished.

Leaning against the wall, she allowed a soft smile to grace her lips. Something in her movement must have alerted her boys though because no sooner had she settled than one by one they turned her way. Not surprised in the least to find her there.

She looked at them, taking in the details of the men they had grown into and she locked the details away for safekeeping.

Scott with the little licks of grey at his temple a sign of the stress the last years had put on them all but his eyes sporting the beginnings of laugh lines.

Virgil, his quiet nature and artist spirit. Steadfast even with his wife just feet away resting with their babe growing in her belly. As worried as he was for he felt things more deeply than all of them he put on a brave face. Not wanting youngest brothers to see him waver even though she knew he was.

His eyes spoke volumes. She could see the exhaustion and fear in them but even so he graced her with a small smile in return.;

John, her star baby. When had he come down? Shocked, she frowned slightly as she took in his uniform. He’d need to wear that for a while until he acclimated to Earth’s gravity again.. A downside to living in the stars so far away. How he managed the isolations, she had no idea. He’d grown up in a house so full of life until there hadn’t been but he’d silently held on. Striving to be the best at what he did.

Next was the vivacious Gordon. Beams of sunshine in his hair and mischief in his eyes. He’s seen and done a lot in his short life. Days so dark with despair as his broken body healed. She’s spent many an hour sitting with him in the VA hospital watching and keeping him company as his body painfully knit itself back together again after every surgery but for all of it. He never complained with the exception of food. Just grinned and bared it though she could see the cracks. He'd come through it all, scarred and sporting a motley collection of surgical steel plates and bolts and kept on smiling.

And lastly her baby boy, Alan. Her rocket man. He’d missed so much in life. A normal childhood, school, friends and typical boyhood misadventures. First date, prom, graduation but he’d still done the family proud and held his head up high. He flew the stars and was living a dream most kids his age could only dream about. A tender age but the top of his field and he got to fly a rocket ship. What kid wouldn’t love that?

Her boys. No, her men. Through diversity and trauma they all stood tall and together.

Pushing away from the wall she went to them and was lost in a sea of hugs.

8-8-8

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfict #fanfiction #fanfic #TaG Bloodlines #vegetacide #flufflember #Virgil Tracy #kayo kyrano #virgil/kayo #Virgil X Kayo #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Grandma Tracy

22 notes · View notes

sallytheseamstress · 3 years

Text

HAPPIESTPLACEHQ Task 2 - Sally Finkelstein

Playlist you feel best describes your character

Touch In Mine (fingers) - Esperanza Spalding “Touching surfaces every day Feeling no spark of tenderness within” Sally is a very sensitive person, both physically and emotionally: loud sounds, bright lights, strong smells can overwhelm her easily, as well as angry words and open displays of aggression. That is partly why she keeps to herself, to her routines, to her little comfortable bubble; but as she has become older, Sally finds that this existence is now wearing her down, and has come to realize that, even with the friendship of Jack (who is so often locked up in his own world as well) and Zero (who, much like her, keeps to himself), she craves affection and love that, so far, hasn’t experienced neither from family nor friends.

Like Someone In Love - Björk “Each time I look at you, I'm limp as a glove And feeling like someone in love” Just a little love song that very accurately depicts Sally’s sort of clumsiness towards her own feelings, and how she feels she could express them towards a loved one. It is a beautiful, if rather awkward, way to feel for her, one that sticks to her mind and heart and colors her world, filling her with conflicting emotions -giddiness of being lovestruck, fear of being found out, sadness at the inevitability of vulnerability, hopefulness at the chance of being requited.

Your Woman - White Town “Now I know your heart, I know your mind You don't even know you're being unkind So much for all your highbrow Marxist ways Just use me up and then you walk away Boy, you can't play me that way” Even though this is a break up song between a romantic couple, this could very well reflect Sally and her father’s codependent relationship. With no family beyond him, no other place to go and with her low-paying job, Sally is basically dependent on her father for everything; and, similarly, her father, being in a wheelchair and stubbornly determined on never leaving Redwood Hollow, depends on Sally for everything he cannot do himself. Sally does recognize her father’s brilliant mind, his cultured thoughts, his well-read expertise and knowledge, but even though he spouts a philosophy of mutual aid, of small-town solidarity and community that he passed down to his daughter, Sally knows deep down this is pure bull -when he himself seems to regard her as a slave, something he owns and is in his right to mistreat, withholding any sort of affection or praise or kindness, treating her more like a robot than as a child.

Glory Box - Portishead “Sow a little tenderness No matter if you cry Give me a reason to love you Give me a reason to be a woman I just wanna be a woman” Going back to the first song, what Sally wants most is affection, and that means vulnerability both from her part and from whom the affection comes from. Since she was very little she has learned to keep her emotions in check, not asking for much, never be a nuisance. This has also led to her feeling somehow disconnected from her own self, from her gender and age, as well as from society at large. Now that she has arrived to her thirties, Sally feels like she needs to break out of this subservient position she has been chained to, and that means, in part, reclaiming her own self as a person with autonomy, as someone capable of and deserving of love, and as a woman with the capacity to socialize with others, to be nurturing, to be affectionate; and, as well, partly resenting her status as a woman as someone who needs to fulfill that nurturing role, to provide for her father, to cook and clean and do the domestic chores.

Sounds Of Blue - Morcheeba “A sort of stoned silence Sat on that boat floating out The waters left me open All my emotions fog my lenses” Despite acknowledging her own sensitiveness, Sally isn’t very good with emotions; she knows the basics of comforting, to leave her shoulder free for someone else to cry on, to be available and listen to someone in need; but she is awful at managing her own frustrations and despair, choosing instead to bottle it all. Sometimes, it can feel almost asphyxiating, to be so full with words she can’t pronounce, with nowhere to pour them. This often makes Sally feel even more alone, like a boat in the middle of the ocean. As she grows older, though, she has begun to try her best and be mindful of what she feels; instead of simply allowing the emotions to overwhelm her, Sally tries to question them, to dive deeper and find the root cause, even if that means giving in and having to have a good long cry about it.

Walking In The Rain - The Ronettes “When he's near me, I'll kiss him And when he leaves me, woah, oh, oh, I'll miss him Though sometimes we'll fight, I won't really care And I'll know it's gonna be alright 'cause we've got so much we share” Sally would like to think of herself as the practical sort; but, of course, this doesn’t mean she has a romantic side as well. Being raised by her father, homeschooled, with no distraction beyond books and constantly monitored TV watching, she grew up during her teens with a strong idea of what true love is like: it is instant, it is irresistible, it is everlasting, it is passionate, it is destined... As an adult, she knows this isn’t realistic at all (especially having witnessed, from a distance, the romantic troubles of the rest of the town); but a part of her still wishes she could be whisked away by a prince, somewhere far away, to an idyllic world of tenderness and freedom.

Good Morning Heartache - Billie Holiday “Stop haunting me now Can't shake you, no how Just leave me alone I've got those Monday blues Straight through Sunday blues” Kind of a byproduct of her buried-deep-down idealizations of love, and her repressed emotions and expectations, the weight of Sally’s loneliness can sometimes pull her down to periods of depression. As a full-time worker, both as her father’s caretaker and in her work at Jack’s Attic and in the Community Events Committee, Sally often has to put on a happy face to deal with the daily grind; but, once she has some time alone, she either tries to keep herself distracted, or gives in to that despair for as long as she can allow herself to.

Les Fleurs - Minnie Riperton “For all of these simple things and much more, a flower was born It blooms to spread love and joy, faith and hope to people forlorn” Most of all, Sally feels most comfortable in nature: as at home as she is in her own house, it also feels, increasingly so, as a place of repression, lack of change, and constant surveillance. Nature, especially Redwood Park and the surrounding woodland, feels to Sally as the place where change is required, where it is most clear, where it is most, well, natural. Whether it is a rainy day with the air thick with humidity and the tension of a coming thunderstorm, a sunny afternoon having a small picnic at the shade of a tree in full bloom, or a lovely, glittering snow morning, snowflakes falling quietly and magically from a cotton-clouded sky, Sally loves it when she can be outside, forget about her responsabilities and duties, and focus on the sensation of the world, the real world, around her.

Day Dreaming - Aretha Franklin “He's the kind of guy that would say Hey, baby, let's get away Let's go some place, huh Where I don't care” This is also a continuation of her own ongoing matureness and acknowledging of how she tends to idealize the idea of love. Sally tries her best to reject her old teenage conception of a prince coming to sweep her off her feet, but at the same time, especially when she can allow herself some time to doze off and daydream, she still nurses that little hope that, whoever it is that will come along and give her the affection she wants so bad, will wish, just as she does, to explore the world beyond Redwood -it doesn’t matter where, since they would be together, mutually helping each other in their struggles, loving and trusting each other, and that would be everything they would need.

Please Don’t Make Me Cry - Lianne La Havas “I'll try to let it go, my fingers are crossed I show you my pretty scars, they make us whatever we are” Sally knows fully well that she comes with a good deal of issues, and that’s what scares her most when considering pursuing a romantic relationship. She is, however, aware enough of her traumas that she feels she could be honest about it -of course, as long as she manages to not let herself be drowned by them. Honesty is a very important quality for her. The only problem, then, is that while Sally truly wants to confess just how much she feels what has happened to her, she is still afraid to intimidate someone else, to be seen as “high-maintenance”, as someone hard to love. Once more, while love is her goal, vulnerability is her greatest fear.

#sally finkelstein #happiestplacetask #happiestplacetask2 #. HEADCANONS { try as i may it doesn’t last }#. TUNES { i sense there’s something in the wind }

5 notes · View notes

princess-mei · 3 years

Photo

Mei 美美 Qin – Character Sheet

it’s like everything you say is a sweet revelation / all i wanna do is get into your head / yeah we could stay alone, you and me and this temptation / sipping on your lips, hanging on by a thread, baby

late night watching television / but how’d we get in this position / it’s way too soon, i know this isn’t love (no) / but i need to tell you something

i really really really really really really like you / and i want you, do you want me, do you want me too?

Archetype — The Explorer Birthday — July 9th, 2002 Zodiac Sign — Year of the Horse, Rising Leo, Sun in Cancer, Moon in Cancer MBTI — ENFP Enneagram — 2, the Helper Temperament — Sanguine Hogwarts House — Gryffindor Moral Alignment — Chaotic Good Primary Vice — Lust Primary Virtue — Charity Element — Water/Fire (she’s a Water Horse, so she definitely identifies with that but in Western tradition she is Fire.)

Overview:

Mother — Tanya Qin Father — Peng Qin Mother’s Occupation — Editor-in-Chief of the San Francisco Chronicle Father’s Occupation — financial diviner Family Finances — wealthy Birth Order — middle Brothers — none Sisters — Ting-Ting (Gemma Chan, May 13, 1993), Su (January 22, 2003) Other Close Family — close to their mother’s side, father’s side lives in China, but they’ve taken trips to see them once or twice. do not have any cousins/aunts/uncles, but close to their grandparents. Best Friend — Daisy Zanetti, they grew up together. Met in school and were thick as thieves right away. Daisy is a half-fairy, so they both understood the whole “half” background thing. Other Friends — Lots and lots of friends~ Enemies — There was probably like one Mean Girl that Mei was always antagonizing and who was always antagonizing her. Pets — None. Home Life During Childhood — Relatively happy. Has nice, loving parents. Did a lot of Family Activities, since that was important. Mother was busy a lot with work, but her father was around a lot and Ting-Ting was always around (until she went to school.) Town or City Name(s) — San Francisco, CA What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — Posters everywhere! Very personalized and customized. Lots of reds and golds. Probably had like one of those net things around her bed. Always very messy, because Mei starts a project and then just jumps to the next. Lots of natural light too probably. Any Sports or Clubs — Dance and Gymnastics. Mei has kept up with both of these throughout the year. Does both ballet and hip hop. Her favorite gymnastics is rhythmics. Favorite Toy or Game — She wouldn’t consider it a toy or game, of course, but loves doing tarot and tea readings. Also enjoys a good board game, is very competitive though. Schooling — Public school. Favorite Subject — Physical Education ?? Maybe literature. Art classes… Popular or Loner — Decently popular. She wasn’t one of the people that everyone knew but she had a wide circle of friends. Important Experiences or Events — Discovering she had divination skills. Deciding her specialization. Moving to Swynlake! Nationality — American Culture — Chinese-American Religion and beliefs — Spiritual, borrowing from a spread of Taoism, Buddhism, Chinese folklore, and Confucianism.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim — Cheng Xiao Complexion — Fair-skinned Hair Colour — Naturally a dark brown, but she dyes it a lot! Eye Colour — Dark brown. Height — 5’6 Build — Athletic, but slim. Tattoos — None. Piercings — Ears. Common Hairstyle — Likes to braid it or put it in two buns. Does a lot of half-up/half-down hairstyles. Clothing Style — Chic and trendy, lots of colors and patterns. Mannerisms — Very bouncy, doesn’t sit still much. Twirls her hair around her finger a lot. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Pretty healthy! I’m sure this is due to Ting-Ting constantly balancing her Yin-Yang Physical Ailments — None. Neurological Conditions — None. Allergies — None! Grooming Habits — Rather good. Takes a lot of care with her appearance. Always makes sure to moisturize and exfoliate and change out of sweaty clothes. Sleeping Habits — Average. Eating Habits — Eats a lot because Su is constantly making things, but can forget meals if she is distracted or concentrating. Exercise Habits — Exercises a lot! Does all sorts of things like pilates and swimming and jogging. Emotional Stability — I give her a 7/10, she loses points for being a stubborn, unreasonable teenager and for her temper, but otherwise is pretty even-keeled. Body Temperature — Average. Sociability — Very social! Loves surrounding herself with people. Addictions — Love? Drug Use — None, we will see. Alcohol Use — Has gone to parties where she’s drank before, but not often.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — Interrupting people, bouncing from topic to topic, meddling in things that she shouldn’t, talking back, being a general nuisance. Good Habits — Very kind, very caring. Wants to take care of all her people. Strong moral compass. Best Characteristic — Her certainty. Worst Characteristic — Her stubbornness. Worst Memory — Being told she would have to move to Swynlake. Best Memory — When her father told her that he was proud of her for completing her studies for being a sorcerer and accepting an apprenticeship. Proud of — Her magic, her family history, her looks, her sporting ability. Embarrassed by — Not much, probably the fact she isn’t very good at school. Driving Style — Probably was just learning how to drive. A speed demon, but surprisingly a good driver. Strong Points — Her moral center and her big heart. Temperament — Can be explosive, but general soft and sweet. Attitude — Generally positive. Weakness — Not knowing what she wants. Fears — Not knowing what she’s going to do with her life. Phobias — Anything unlucky, though I wouldn’t call it a phobia, more of a cautious regard. Secrets — None really? She doesn’t keep much from people. She’s very “This Is Who I am. Fight Me.” Regrets — Having to leave Swynlake. Feels Vulnerable When — People are angry or upset with her, she’s not following her heart. Pet Peeves — Being told she’s wrong, lol. Conflicts — Duty to Family v Duty to Heart Motivation — Following her heart. Short Term Goals and Hopes — Make friends and something out of her life in Swynlake. Long Term Goals and Hopes — Figure out what she wants to do with her life. Sexuality — As-is she is straight, but this can change. Day or Night Person — Day Introvert or Extrovert — Extrovert. Optimist or Pessimist — Optimist except she can be really sour when things don’t go her way.

Likes and Styles:

Music — Oh, gosh–where to start? Mei loves love songs, of course. Big fan of Elton John, Elvis Presley, Celine Dion, etc etc. She also loves modern stuff, of course. Taylor Swift, Carly Rae Jepsen, Ed Sheeran…if she’s really feeling it some Florence and the Machine. Loves KPop too. I’ll let Lauryl tell me who she stans. (Is that the phrase I feel like there is a phrase.) Anyway, anything that is love related, she’ll give it a listen. Books — Doesn’t actually like reading that much, tbh. Doesn’t hold her interest. Magazines — Do people read magazines anymore? Does Buzzfeed count as a magazine? Probably giggles over Cosmopolitan. Foods — Sweets! Chocolate is her favorite, but she likes licorice a lot too. Is one of those weird people that likes black licorice. Also, loves a good rice pudding. That’s probably her favorite dessert. She also loves chicken, any kind of chicken–she doesn’t care what you put it in or what you put on it. Isn’t much of a picky eater. Actually really enjoys being adventurous with her food. Drinks — Green tea, green tea, green tea! Mei loves tea, especially iced. She also surprisingly likes salt soda water–she goes back and forth on sweet and savory. Sometimes, she just really wants salt soda water because it is just crisp and refreshing and wakes her back-up and reorients her yin-yang when she needs it. Animals — Elephants! Mei loves elephants. She’s that girl that has like elephant shirts and an elephant backpack and an elephant stuffed animal probably. They have such a high emotional capacity and Mei really respects them for this. They are also just so cute with their floppy ears and their soft, sweet eyes! Loves birds too as most of them are symbols of good luck and good tidings–besides owls, which are harbingers of death. Sports — Gymnastics and dance. Social Issues — Magick Rights is the biggest one. Also feminism. Also all the “main” issues. Favorite Saying — “Better to light a candle, than to curse the darkness” - Chinese Proverb Color — Golds, yellows, reds, blues are her favourites. She loves gold because it is a Classy color. Most of her jewelry is gold. She loves yellow because it is bright and happy! Red is lucky in Chinese culture and it always reminds her of times like New Year’s! Also, it is the color of passion and love. Blues she likes because they are calming and gentle. These are her lucky colors. She also loves pink, even though it is technically a color that she should avoid. Really hates white, because she doesn’t like what a blank slate it is. Also, hates brown because it is an icky boring color. As you can see, she has a lot of Opinions on colors. Clothing —Chic and trendy, lots of colors and patterns. Jewelry — Loves it! Wears mostly gold. Probably has a few staple pieces but then exchanges things depending on her mood. Websites — Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter etc etc TV Shows — CW shows and K/Cdramas Movies — All the great love classics: Gone with the Wind, the Titanic, When Harry Met Sally, Roman Holiday, all of Audrey Hepburn probably, the Notebook, Singing in the Rain…I could go on and on. She loves movies that tug at the heart strings and are full of that wild, amazing, passionate kind of love. They always make her swoon and if she is choosing a movie for movie night, you know it’s gonna be a romantic tearjerker. Though, she also likes romcoms. Doesn’t like action movies or horror movies or anything too intense, they freak her out Greatest Want — To figure out what to do with her life. Greatest Need — To grow up and learn things aren’t all about her, lmao.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — A three bedroom apartment with Ting-Ting and Su. Household furnishings — Rather plain at the moment, but will probably grow cozy as they settle in. Favorite Possession — Her pseudogrimoire where she writes down all the signs and stuff that she sees and puzzles out the meaning to. Most Cherished Possession — Her wand, which is a fan that was her mother’s, her mother gave it to her and her father and Ting-Ting help her imbibe it with magic. Neighborhood — Tortuga Place Married Before — No Significant Other Before — Non-serious boyfriends and Serious crushes Children — She iS a child Relationship with Family — Very close with her dad, even though he’s always yelling at her and being disappointed in her. They have a lot in common and she loves him. Her and her mother also get along more or less, she’s less stringent than her dad. Ting-Ting and her probably have the most contentious relationship, but even that hasn’t been that bad really. Mostly Mei being a nosy, annoying little sister. It will get more intense now that Ting-Ting is the authority figure and Mei is pissed about their situation. Su and Mei get along more or less well, they annoy each other, as sisters are wont to do, but Mei would def consider Su one of her best friends. Car — None. Career — Student Dream Career — She doesn’t know !! Dream Life — Married, with children, though she doesn’t know what she wants out of a career. Love Life — Nonexistant, which pisses her off. Talents or Skills — Excellent gymnast and very good with her magic. Intelligence Level — Decently intelligent, has street smarts, tbh. Very sharp in conversation. Finances — Wealthy

#about #character sheet #inspiration #part of me wanted to change some of this #but no #preserve the integrity

5 notes · View notes

bluewatsons · 3 years

Text

Michael John Carley, Autism-Schmautism...In the End, Darius McCollum was Poor and Black, Exceptional Parent Magazine (December 2018)

On October 5th, Darius McCollum, the autism world’s previously-unending sideshow, was sentenced to life inside a New York State psychiatric facility. No, he was not relegated back to Rikers island, or any other “normal” prison, as had been the case for the majority of his adult life. He was this time sent to the kind of place where our most dangerous, disturbed, and marginalized individuals are secretly warehoused to endure horror after horror without witness, until the unmarked, mass grave on Hart Island prematurely, and slowly consumes their trauma-ridden, dissociated selves. Darius’ remarkable story of rotating in and out of the prison system for 38 years came to a halt on the worst side of the turnstile. Autism-Schmautism: He is black and poor. We were fools to think this story would end in a restorative manner.

He almost made it. His brilliance, and the subsequent media coverage had all but ensured that he would not slip through the cracks like other poor, spectrum or non-spectrum African-Americans. Darius had a shot because he was noticed. But the final nail came, comic/tragically, from an African-American judge; one who justified ending Darius’ life because Asperger’s Syndrome, to her, is a “dangerous, mental disorder.” In the words of Darius’ lawyer, Sally Butler, “The sweetest guy in the world, never committed any violent acts, never hurt anyone, is going to be held in a hospital with people who slaughter people.”

Judge Ruth Shillingford hasn’t yet apologized with the standard, Kavanaugh-esque backtrack of, “Ok. Maybe I could have used a better choice of words.” But she will. Too many of us have this same “dangerous, mental disorder.” Darius drew a different kind of bigot.

The success rate on appeals is very low. He’s gone.

***

Darius McCollum, as most spectrumfolk know, couldn’t stop stealing subway trains and taking them on joyrides. His first arrest came when he was 15, and over close to the next four decades, he was caught and sentenced over 30 times.

But by his estimation, he was not caught thousands of times.

Like innumerable spectrum children, young Darius had a “thing” for trains. As a fellow spectrumite myself who works in the field, I’ve long thought it funny how the clinical world overthought our too common fascination with rail travel. The simple truth of why we love trains has not to do with the trains themselves…it’s the track. We don’t have to make any decisions about going left here, or right there, thanks to the track. We don’t have to read between the lines, or interpret a thing, as we would driving a car. The track has already determined our destination and our route. Furthermore, we have full control over the speed of the journey. For folks like us? That’s heaven.

How was this possible, though? How could one man, however Houdini-like, sneak into the driver’s seat so easily, time after time after time? Amidst our modern paranoia of mostly imagined terrorist threats looming around every corner—our FOX News hysteria—how did Darius manage so easily to take over the controls while we were the passengers? Well, Darius was brilliant. He not only knew the ins and outs of the New York Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) ten times better than any MTA employee, he knew the employee timetables, and how the MTA’s Human Resource department operated. He knew the trends, and the procedures, and he was also gregarious. Darius McCollum really is the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. So when he’d arrive on the scene in a stolen uniform, and tell the scheduled driver “I just got a free day, man. Lemme help you out.” The uninformed, overworked and underpaid MTA employee usually said, “thanks, man,” and laid back on a welcomed break.

No passenger, it should be noted, was ever hurt when Darius was driving. Not one passenger was even aware that, driving their subway train or bus was someone other than a trained MTA employee. Lastly, Darius’ routes were always finished on time.

***

More than two decades would transpire thereafter that first arrest before we’d hear his name. For us, it all started with a Harper’s article from 2002—Jeff Tietz’s The Boy Who Loved Transit. In the opening paragraphs, Tietz introduced us not only to a train thief, but also a brilliant forger, who brought letters to crews “signed” by MTA managers, dictating that the crews allow “Mr. McCollum” to inspect their safety protocols. Tietz also showed us a concerned outsider, who always attended MTA workers’ union meetings and rallies. Finally, Tietz pointed out to us that Darius only attempted to steal these trains, buses, and equipment. After all, he returned everything he stole. Darius’ behavior originated not in contempt. He loved the MTA, and all its inner worlds.

But despite a diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome, one that should have explained his lack of criminal intent, he got idiot judge after idiot judge—monsters of an unfair, impotent, racist, and arcane criminal justice system in New York. To them, Darius was too intelligent, too polite, and too “white sounding” (as one judge put it) to both have a disability and not have control over his actions.

I first met Darius around that time. He was out on parole but at high risk for going back. People put high hopes that my new organization, GRASP, could help. GRASP was the first real peer-run (i.e. run by people on the spectrum) organization in the autism world, and later grew to become the largest membership organization in the world for adults on the spectrum. That all said, we didn’t have much of a budget, and we weren’t a services organization—we had no contract with the city. The type of help that Darius needed wasn’t complicated, but it was intensive. He needed talk therapy with a shrink that really knew their Asperger’s, peer support, perhaps some Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, some trauma-based therapy, a gym, and a Microsoft Excel class. He came to one GRASP support group meeting, but given his relative stardom, he had a hard time feeling like a part of the group. So he hung out in our office with me on several occasions. I’d work while he’d read. We’d talk. We’d go for walks. We got to know each other.

***

Everyone on the spectrum is different. On one end you might have someone non-verbal, who may never experience a reciprocated sexual relationship, or hold down a steady job for long. But this same individual could in fact be quite happy if surrounded by the right supports and attitudes; as measuring happiness by the capacity for speech is one of the infantile mistakes we used to make in the autism world. Why so stupid? Because on the other end of the spectrum you might have someone very verbal; maybe with an IQ of 180—we have all these famous people diagnosed in retrospect such as Einstein, Beethoven, Edison, Jefferson, Emily Dickinson, every famous mathematician…—whom everyone expects to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company someday. But because no one explained to them how the social world works, their loneliness intensified until they became a suicide statistic. You can’t dumb this stuff down. We’re complicated.

I hadn’t yet seen anyone whose level of “juice” resembled mine—More functional than most in many capacities, I present well. But I was also inundated with spectrumites who were/are way smarter than I. So while better than most at hiding my cluelessness, until then I had always felt somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, with no real parallel.

Darius McCollum was the first and only time I’ve ever sensed someone whose spectrum gifts and challenges instinctively reflected mine. Four months apart in age, diagnosed at virtually the same age, both only children, our internal makeup seemed identical. Darius didn’t present like me, but I knew that if you took away the experiences of being stabbed repeatedly with large scissors when he was in second grade, the horrific prison rapes and beatings, the lifelong trauma, the brilliance…and that if you then took away my educational opportunities, and blatant white privilege…he was my mirror. People thought I was talented—more talented than I really was—and so I got scholarships that allowed me to divide whatever intelligence I had into many different directions, thus creating a more well-rounded individual…than Darius, who had real intelligence that few wished to recognize, and who in lacking those opportunities directed everything he had to trains. I ended up with an Ivy League Masters degree. Darius didn’t graduate high school.

We may have gotten close—It felt that way; the ease was both inexplicable and beatifically jarring. But I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell when the relationship was never equal; for in addition to both our racial instincts, I was to be the mentor, and he the mentee.

***

By this time, everyone was writing about him. Whether it was the New York Times, the London Times, or every news station…By 2004 Darius had racked up an impressive media portfolio. There would be a play, and a documentary—interpretations of Darius’ life made by people that were not out to exploit him—Good people were always on his side. There was talk of a movie starring Julia Roberts…

However, my main mission with him was contrary. I wanted to try and get him to stop seeing dollar signs from imagined film deals, to stop being addicted to the media attention. In my opinion, this was his real challenge. For in addition to withstanding the temptation to steal more trains came the devaluation of what he would do with his life if he wasn’t stealing trains. It’s difficult enough for ANY ex-inmate to get excited about trying to start a new life…when you’re a convicted felon (very few jobs hire folks with prison records) with no job training, money, or education. Being black just decreases your chances even more. I began running interference to try to de-celebrity his life a little.

And just so you know, of course he would have been a perfect hire for the MTA. But they wouldn’t have him. We tried. We tried the MTA, we tried the MTA’s transit museum (where Darius could be a tour guide), we tried the transit authorities of other cities, we tried Amtrak… But Darius, in his “career,” had shamed these folks. He had shown that their security procedures were a joke, thus pissing off Homeland Security and driving their insurance rates through the roof. Later, the MTA would rebuff our criticisms and escalate the divide even further by demanding re-payment on any possible movie deals. In addition to Darius pinning them down, MTA officials dug themselves a deeper hole by reacting like the petty, insecure bureaucrats they might have always been.

(Speaking of Homeland Security: Darius, in his infinite kindness, had even welcomed a visit from them during one of his jail stints, asking nothing in return. And they, after absorbing much information and consultation that Darius was more than happy to give them, free of charge, about how easy it was to skirt the MTA’s procedures…gave him nothing in return. Again, we are discussing the sweetest, most childlike, least streetwise guy in the world. Today, he is still proud of that meeting as he feels he served his country.)

By then, many media outlets were calling me to reach Darius (who struggled to maintain a consistent phone number), and I was trying to rebuff them. That time would be Darius’ longest stint outside prison. And when he fell off the wagon per se, he did so repeatedly thereafter. Over the ensuing years he would get out and almost instantly get caught taking another car or bus for a joyride. In the absence of access to real supports when he would be out, being a celebrated train thief was the only life he could see. He might not have been wrong.

During those years he also made bad decisions, about people, money, and especially legal representation. Stephen C. Jackson, the celebrity lawyer who gained fame during the Tawana Brawley case, rushed to Darius’ side and filled him with promises of millions. But when Jackson (now deceased) quickly saw that the fame he sought wasn’t forthcoming, he then abandoned Darius without officially dropping his name as Darius’ representative. What this meant was that when Darius, on more than one occasion, would show up from his cell for sentencing or a hearing, that he sat alone in court. The judge would ask where his lawyer was, and Darius could provide no explanation. But because Darius, in the court’s mind, couldn’t represent himself (because of his Asperger’s, the courts deemed him incapable of the decision to switch lawyers), he was then sent back to jail for months, even years once, until a new hearing could be rescheduled. Herein, my power of attorney was worthless.

GRASP didn’t have the means to help, but larger organizations like Autism Speaks and the Autism Society of America (ASA) could have. But neither organization would touch Darius McCollum with a ten-foot pole. The excuse was that they didn’t like the way Darius was using his Asperger’s as…an excuse, and that this made everyone on the spectrum look irresponsible. But to me, this was the excuse—to not have to acknowledge the punishments not fitting the crimes. If people really thought Darius deserved to be raped and beaten for taking subway trains on safe joyrides…I just couldn’t believe that. But I grew to believe that as a poor, black man, Darius for them was a lose-lose proposition. These orgs’ gutlessness did not have justification, but they did have explanation.

My prison visits felt more and more like spankings. I’d arrive, furious with him over the most recent arrest, and I’d lay into him. But at the end of the visit we would have worked it out. I once broke policy, and facilitated an interview with him for Caren Zucker and John Donvan’s book, In a Different Key (I trusted Caren, whom I knew from her days at Nightline when she produced some really fine autism coverage). I laughed in solidarity at the finished book, where they quoted my first words to Darius when I brought them to Rikers…in which I distinctively used an expletive. Donvan had inquired after the visit why I was so harsh with him, and rather than explain that neither Darius nor I came from finishing school, or that this was just the way we showed we cared, I answered in an acknowledgement that maybe it was wrong of me, but that “I visit him.” For at the time, no one else really was.

But then Sally Butler became Darius’ (seriously) pro bono lawyer. And he finally had a real chance…because he finally had a real hero.

***

Forget the nightmare center that Darius will go to (Kirby, or Mid-Island, according to an old colleague), our regular prisons are increasing in violence. Author, Shane Bauer, went undercover for Mother Jones as a $9 per hour Louisiana prison guard (an experience he recounts in his new book, American Prison) and took away a wealth of terrifying information. In a recent interview, Bauer stated that when he was being trained, he was instructed that the proper procedure for when prisoners were stabbing each other, was “to yell, ‘Stop fighting!’ and that’s it. We should not get in between them. We are not going to pay you (the guard) that much…if those fools want to cut each other, than happy cutting.”

And does anyone still think that you can go through long prison experiences without being raped? Are some people still capable of such denial? Unfortunately, yes. We are that naïve, or dumb, or complacent. And it’s mostly the law & order crowd—those who demand punishment, punishment, punishment, even when they acknowledge that punishment (even as a concept) really doesn’t work—that heartily approves of our “nudge nudge, wink wink” relationship with rape. We are complicit in this manner because we want to believe that we live in a society that does not condone rape. But it’s nonsense. We don’t just condone rape, we willingly use it as a coercive tool, and the proof doesn’t lie in drunken college parties. The proof of our societal need to never eliminate rape lies in our prison system.

“According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, around 80,000 women and men a year are sexually abused in American correctional facilities. That number is almost certainly subject to underreporting, through shame or a victim’s fear of retaliation...To tackle the problem, Congress passed the Prison Rape Elimination Act, signed into law by President George W. Bush in 2003. The way to eliminate sexual assault, lawmakers determined, was to make Department of Justice funding for correctional facilities conditional on states’ adoption of zero-tolerance policies toward sexual abuse of inmates…But only two states — New Hampshire and New Jersey — have fully complied with the act…The Justice Department estimates that the total bill to society for prison rape and sexual abuse is as high as $51.9 billion per year, including the costs of victims’ compensation and increased recidivism. If states refuse to implement the law when the fiscal benefit is so obvious, something larger is at stake…Compliance does not even cost that much. The Justice Department (also) estimates that full nationwide compliance would cost $468.5 million per year.”

— “Why We Let Prison Rape Go On”

Bozelko, Chandra. The New York Times. April 17, 2015

***

This past year, after 38 years of in and out, it was time to roll the dice. Darius’ health had been deteriorating—He has gained tremendous weight and is experiencing rapid hearing loss. His brilliance has become less accessible, having slowly drowned in accumulated trauma.

In January, Sally scored a major victory: she got the Brooklyn District Attorney's Office to finally admit that Darius was not a criminal. But because of how the court still contextualizes non-apparent disabilities, Darius, in order to become relatively free, would have to plead not responsible by mental defect. And there was a big risk herein. As Sally wrote: “If Darius is determined to be dangerous, he will be confined in a truly horrific locked facility for the criminally insane perhaps for life.” But if the judge were to determine that he was not dangerous, he would be “civilly committed for intense treatment with the goal of returning to society with services available to him.”

In talks at the time with the Puerto Rican government on an autism consulting contract, I began looking into a side project of building a treatment center on the island, one that would use Darius as a pilot for low-risk, non-violent offenders with diagnosed non-apparent disabilities. Everyone’s been saying “there’s no proper care available,” even though what Darius needs is not brain surgery, and since no one else was doing it…I dreamt of him taking that Excel class, going to trauma-based therapies, and helping to repair houses in Puerto Rico’s still-reeling infrastructure, one with no transit system—Yes! There would be an ocean between Darius and temptation, if not also a warm, loving populace that would welcome him. The courts would save a ton of taxpayer money and stop enduring the bad public relations. Sally forewarned that getting the powers that be to allow him to receive his treatment outside state lines would be the challenge, but I was confident. It seemed a no-brainer.

I wasn’t alone. We all figured the odds were good. Who in God’s name would sentence this good-natured child to more torture?

But again, Sally and I being white, we forgot that Darius was black.

***

I’m guessing that at best, only 3% of the people that read this article will be African-American. It’s not that I don’t have black readers. As a white writer, I’m confident I have more than most. But for African-Americans, I would imagine that this material, like any material about Darius, reads like the box score of a game African-Americans already saw, participated in from start to finish, and in which their team got its ass kicked. There’s nothing to be learned, and only more heartache to be gained from reading. Maybe as some “militants” might say, everything really is about race. Maybe everything isn’t about Darius’ autism, nor fiscal variations (I especially have professed in the past that everything revolves around economics)…I’m white, so I can’t go there completely, but I could argue that maybe the Judge Kavanaugh hearings weren’t about women if, as a New York Times article reports, 53% of white women were in favor of his confirmation. Maybe the wonderful #MeToo movement will at some point have to address the buried complaints that many men of color, in corporate settings, have about the sexual harassment they’ve endured from many white, female supervisors. Maybe the LGBTQ community will someday acknowledge that a stereotype exists of them all being wealthy liberals—when most are actually poor (and therein, contain many people of color). Maybe the #MeToo heroes can see that while they risked their career track to report harassing bosses, that when this occurs to women of color in factories (that I’ve worked in), that for her and her family that woman doesn’t risk a delay in promotion, she risks homelessness. Maybe even our nation’s bipartisan era isn’t about Trump, but is still about Obama? After all, one look at the farcical complaints many Republicans had about Obama during his tenure, when compared to their silence regarding Trump’s unending list of proven lies? This nation’s divide isn’t about Republicans and Democrats at all…And then there’s Judge Shillingford, pictured on Google images at many NAACP functions, who simply may have seen a Darius we never saw; one who didn’t have the intelligence we knew of, or the indisputably kind nature. Maybe she saw a person who was incapable of a productive life given the right supports…because of his skin color. Maybe she knew better.

Having raised white children in predominantly black, Brooklyn neighborhoods, I can confess to you that every once in a while, a fellow white would let slip their belief that we were throwing our kids’ safety under a bus to prove our liberalness. The truth was the opposite—Because of the trust we’d extended by living there my boys were protected by those communities. The black on black shit is what will astound you.

(“Sidebar, your honor?” An old contact of mine works closely to [but not in] the Brooklyn District Attorney’s office. Not to go spy-novel herein, but this “source” felt that Shillingford will not be reprimanded for this ruling or her language. She may actually be rewarded. My contact’s theory is that the Shillingford’s “shortcomings” regarding her knowledge and feelings about developmental disabilities, are well known by the Brooklyn DA, Eric Gonzalez. Shillingford may have been set up to take the bullet for a DA’s office that has wanted this ending for Darius all along. And this would make sense; for Gonzalez’s office seems intent on preserving a progressive aura; yet in the case of Darius McCollum has never negotiated in good faith.)

Whether you are African-American, Spanish, on the spectrum, LGBTQ, or Muslim…any minority will always feel doubt about their way of doing things, even if that way is brilliant. And any majority will have supreme confidence in their way of doing things, even if their way is so dumb it’s beyond repair. Unless we are all educated otherwise, that’s simply how majorities and minorities think.

***

I can’t compartmentalize Darius McCollum as the screwup twin brother who couldn’t stop breaking my heart, or as the African-American who only had a chance in our dreams. Darius will perhaps best be categorized as the human being who consciously made us face our capacity for cowardice and inaction. For I could cry at will, in gratitude, for the fact that I was raised on this one notion: If in the course of your job, you have to turn a blind eye to a giant injustice? Then it is time to look for another job. These days, this concept feels more than lost. Judge Shillingford cowardly stated in her sentencing that her “hands (were) tied.” Bull. The judge is a bigot, perhaps twice over (though I can’t make that call). Because she is both a female and an African-American, and I am a white male, I will grant that she had it harder than me—I’d bet a limb on it. But the end result matters too.

I know I’m angry. And in my anger, I erroneously feel it’s my duty to look upon her, and maybe Gonzalez, as garbage human beings. But I think the real duty for us all is to acknowledge that they are not alone.

#racism #ableism #darius mccollum #real folk heroes of the 21st century #travesties #miscarriages of justice #outrage #autism #asperger syndrome #transit #transit history

6 notes · View notes

theonlinemuse · 4 years

Text

So @lesbianmaxevans and I have been discussing how there’s very little backstory for Dani Powell on the show and we decided to contribute to the tags by coming up with our own headcanons for her:

Dani is a nickname obviously, but instead of Danielle or Danika, it’s short for Danys, a unisex Haitian Creole name. She only gets called Danys if she’s in trouble

Malcolm giggles whenever that happens and Dani threatens to put her cold hands on him if he tries calling her that

Malcolm learned her middle name the same day he met her middle sister, New York County Court Judge Naomie Powell, who barged into the precinct after an incident where Dani got hurt and went, “Danys Eliana Powell, if you’re going to give our family a heart attack, at least pick up your phone!”

Her dad is Haitian (I still say that episode 5 should’ve delved into this with Dani and her backstory) and her mom is Jewish. Dani and her sisters were all raised Jewish

Dani doesn’t regularly go the synagogue, but it’s tradition for the Powells to go to services during major holidays

Dani and JT explaining Jewish holidays to everyone

Powell wasn’t her dad’s original last name. Her dad and grandma came to New York from Port au Prince in the late 70s and their original last name was Poirot. Grandma Eliana kept the name, but her dad changed it to Powell when he started university

She’s the youngest of three girls in the family. Her oldest sister Mona is played by Meta Golding while middle sister Naomie is played by Sydney Tamiia Poitier

Naomie was the sister who suffered from night terrors after getting into a bad car accident as a teenager and Mona and Dani would often take turns looking after her. This is how Dani knew how to deal with Malcolm

Dani is bisexual. She and Edrisa went on a date before deciding to be friends and Edrisa likes to joke about them being exes much to Malcolm’s confusion

“When did you even break up?” “We didn’t, technically. We just went go karting and had lunch at Zabar’s before we realized Dani was wayyyy too much like an aloof little sister to me.”

And this is totally a crack headcanon, but after seeing Jurnee Smollett-Bell playing Black Canary in Birds of Prey, Dani and Dinah Lance are now cousins. Their moms, Zipporah and Dinah Senior were sisters

Dani and Dinah may be Jewish, but they don’t keep kosher all the time. They don’t eat pork, but they’re absolutely weak against shellfish, much to their moms’ dismay

Chaotic bi Dinah and distinguished bi Dani

Imagine Dani going undercover in Dinah’s band and them singing the Birds of Prey song from Batman: The Brave and the Bold

Dani can rock the punk rock aesthetic. Dinah makes her wear fishnet stockings, red lipstick, a corset over a dark lace shirt, and gold metallic temp tattoos. Malcolm has a heart attack

And then Dani starts singing and he’s a goner because he’s only ever hear her sing old songs from the 30s to 50s and there’s something powerful and sensual about her singing punk rock music. He’s not ready for it

JT teases the hell out of him, but he soon shuts up when Dani and Dinah bring Tally into the mix. Edrisa records the whole thing, as well as Malcolm and JT’s expressions. Gil ends up using it to keep Malcolm and JT from doing anything too outrageous

Grandma Eliana would sing old jazz and méringue songs to Dani and her sisters when they were little so Dani ended up with the habit of singing them absently whenever she’s focused on a task, usually when she’s doing her hair

Dani grew up listening to songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s due to grandma Eliana always playing her extensive vinyl collection. She didn’t really get to listen to modern music until she was in middle school

In addition to jazz and swing, Dani’s surprisingly good at disco. It didn’t help that her dad often played Boney M and Earth Wind and Fire during her childhood

She used to joke that the Powell family is decades behind in their taste in music. Dani doesn’t listen to many modern songs, but she likes singing along to Yonce as well as Janelle Monae songs like Electric Lady and Sally Ride

Make Me Feel becomes Dani and Dinah’s bi anthem

Malcolm once caught her singing and he keeps trying to catch her again. He’s lucky to listen for five seconds before she kicks him out of the bathroom

Dani’s a bit of a tea expert thanks to grandma Eliana, who taught her many different ways of making tea. Other than Earl Grey, Dani’s favourites include grandma Eliana’s ginger tea and pomegranate tea

And I’m not just saying that last one because I saw tags about a Brightwell Hades and Persephone AU

She loves tea flavoured desserts as well. She often gets a glazed Earl Grey donut for breakfast on Monday mornings when she needs a little pick me up

She changes up the glaze depending on her mood. Lavender for when she’s stressed, balsamic and pomegranate for when she’s in a good mood, blueberry for when she’s irritated or stuck on a case, brown butter for when she’s tired, and caramel with blood orange zest for when she’s ready punch a dick

In the summer, she loves Thai iced tea popsicles and matcha green tea popsicles dipped in chocolate

Dani isn’t as big of a coffee drinker as she is a tea drinker, but if she has to have coffee, it’s always a cinnamon mocha with a shot of espresso

She can cook, but because of her schedule, she mostly sticks with quick to make dishes like grilled cheese and spaghetti. She likes spicing things up though, thanks to growing up with her dad and grandma’s cooking

Every Hanukkah, Dani always gets roped into preparing the desserts with Zipporah since her dad, grandma, and oldest sister are in charge of cooking. Dani’s the first to admit that she’s not a cook, but she’s gotten good at making sweets, even if she doesn’t always have the patience for it. Eight nights a year is her limit

Malcolm as a foodie bemoans this and his trying to broaden her food choices slowly becomes a thing

The look of horror on his face when he sees her chow down on a double beef bacon mushroom burger, poutine, chocolate pecan pie and a strawberry milkshake in one sitting is priceless

And Dani loves seafood, especially shellfish which Malcolm can’t have because it gives him hives

Dani was a bit of a trouble maker in elementary school, but for good reason. She stuck gum in a classmate’s hair because she stole her favourite scratch and sniff stickers and lied about it. And she once kicked a football player where the sun don’t shine because he was being a dick to her

She dressed like Kimberly Hart from the Power Rangers movie in high school, though she did have a goth phase for about two weeks in freshman year. She was trying to channel Wednesday Addams. She was definitely a bit of a rebel style wise. Malcolm was most definitely a nerd

Ironically, Dani’s the one with poor eyesight. She only wears glasses if there’s no more contacts and they’re a chunky pair that’s similar to Edrisa’s glasses

Dani does have some secret nerdy traits, she knows how to code thanks to her sister Naomie going to coding camp for five consecutive summers

And like Kay, Dani has some artistic tendencies too. She grew up with outdoor art programs that encouraged her to paint

She’s fluent in French. She, her sisters, and their paternal cousins went to a bilingual language school thanks to grandma Eliana’s influence

Dani also did competitive figure skating as a kid. She actually made it to the Junior Grand Prix finals. She got silver

There’s recordings of her competition routines on YouTube somewhere and she actually goes undercover as a figure skater for a case. Gil acts as her coach because he actually used to skate as well

She also did some cross training in ballet as well since her godmother is a well known ballerina turned dance teacher. There are a lot of pics of Dani in her early teens of her in a leotard and tights with curls escaping her ballet bun

She has an old injury that often acts up when the weather is cold. She broke her leg pretty badly in high school due to an accident in gym class. She got knocked off the balance beam when they were doing gymnastics and had to be rushed to the hospital for surgery

She prefers horror and thrillers to action movies, but she likes period pieces too. Belle is a recent favourite of hers

Dani likes Star Trek because her dad is the biggest sci-fi nerd and it was a big part of her childhood. She also grew up as a fan of Eartha Kitt because of him after he made her watch 1960s Batman reruns with him

As a result, she wanted to name her first kid after Eartha. She eventually nicknames her first daughter Kit because of this

Dani actually introduced Tally to JT. They were roommates in college (Dani majored in social work while Tally studied chemistry) and they went to the same synagogue

Tally designated Dani as godmother after she and JT had twin girls. She was the sandeket at Noa and Miri’s simchat bat

She practices Krav Maga, she and Dinah both learned it in high school, though Dani always says that Dinah had more of a natural talent for it

Dinah also did kickboxing and gymnastics and Dani ended up tagging along her lessons. She doubled as a coach and sparring partner

She and her sisters dressed up as magical girls for Halloween when they were little and the new Charm reboot is like reliving their childhood

She wraps her hair for sleep with funny and colourful scarves that Naomie always gives as gag gifts, a tradition that started when they were preteens

She’s dyslexic, but she wasn’t diagnosed until middle school. She had difficulty memorizing things so she got into a habit of carrying a recorder with her. She also has her phone and computer set to dyslexia friendly fonts and listens to a lot of audio books

It’s also the reason she sometimes makes mistakes when she’s dancing. She sometimes mixes up left and right

She also had trouble learning French at first because of this

Dani can hold her liquor, but after four drinks, she becomes a giggly drunk who randomly speaks French and sings 90s rock songs

She also suddenly gains a sweet tooth when sober Dani doesn’t usually go for sweets. Luckily Malcolm has a few lollipops stashed away for when this happens

Dani did a brief modelling stint back in college to help out her cousin, who was in fashion school at the time. She mostly modelled for women’s wear and book covers. She even posed for a couple of historical romance covers

Malcolm may have accidentally come across it thanks to his mom. Jessica might have been a little smug when she told him to fetch the book from where she left it. The look on his face was priceless

Dani ends up recreating a cover for a case. Edrisa makes Malcolm pose with her. She takes so many pictures

Given that Malcolm has Sunshine, it’s ironic that Dani owns a cat. It’s a mischievous black cat named Shuri and she loves climbing things, especially Malcolm

#Prodigal Son #Dani Powell

44 notes · View notes

paybackraid · 4 years

Text

What You Need To Hear

Summary: Namine cannot, and will not, let her best friends go without knowing they are loved.

Words: 9569

Characters: Namine, Vanitas, Riku Replica

Just a cute not-little Lost Trio fluff fic I wrote because I imagined Namine telling the boys that she loves them! :’) and then it went to town. Complete, possibly part of a series!

Also available under my FFN or AO3 profiles, under YAJJ.

------

“Thanks for doing this for me, Sora,” Naminé said, leaning forward to show her friend her brightest smile. Sora was piloting her around the worlds, had kindly offered to do so when she said that she had some otherworldly errands she wanted to run. They weren’t really important, but she missed her new best friends so much. They didn’t live on the same world, like the rest of their friends seemed to gather. One was off “finding himself”, and the other was making a home for himself and the creatures who followed him. Neither of them were exactly people-people, so their seclusion did make sense. As long as they were happy, Naminé was happy. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Sora laughed his wonderful Sora laugh, all big and warm. He swerved out of the way of an asteroid, and flashed her his huge Sora smile. “Don’t even mention it! I’m happy to spend time with you. I don’t see you nearly enough.”

“I’ve been meaning to make it out to Destiny Islands, but between school, and the restoration, there hasn’t been time.”

She felt a little guilty, but only a little, that she was making time for the two strange boys attached to her heart and not the one that saved her. Sora always understood. And she would make it out to Destiny Islands! Just, not yet.

Sora gave her another grin, glancing over his shoulder. “I know! My mom’s making me do tutoring to catch back up which, ugh. And now that Riku and I are both Masters, we have to stay in tip-top shape. I’ve hardly had the time to call Ven, Roxas, or Xion, nevermind everyone else.”

“Well, let me know when tutoring is done, and I promise I’ll find the time to come out, okay?” And Naminé always kept her promises.

“We’ll make a day out of it!” Sora agreed happily. “Maybe even a whole weekend!”

“Sounds great!”

Naminé loved Sora so much, she really did. She made attempts at calling her best friends everyday, but they weren’t always available, and they didn’t always have the right social energy to talk, and she understood that. Even when they did, the two of them were sourpusses at heart. So sometimes, talking to Sora and his cheerfulness and readiness was a nice change of pace.

“So, where to? I know you said you were looking for Vanitas and Riku’s… uh, his replica, but you didn’t say where.”

“It’s Van and Ri,” Naminé corrected softly, smile never leaving her face. Van and Ri—two of the only people she knew of who were as lost as she. And in that loss, they’d found one another.

“Er, right. Van and Ri.” Sora was still a little weird around her two boys. One had tried to kill him and certainly had made attempts at the one locked away in his heart for so long, another looked exactly like his best friend when he was young, and shared memories with Sora of a thing that he couldn’t for the life of him remember. He was trying, but they were all still weird with each other.

“Van lives in Halloweentown, now, remember? So he can let his Unversed run free without being called freaks. He works at maintaining the graveyard there, I guess. Last I heard, Jack Skellington was very impressed.”

“That’s cool, I guess.”

“It’s honest work,” Naminé chirped. “And he’s actually really enjoying it there. He walks me through the Hinterlands when I call him. They’re spooky.”

“That, they definitely are. Okay, we’ll go to Halloweentown, then. Maybe I’ll go visit Jack and Sally, too! What about Ri? Is he still… exploring?”

“Yeah. He was in San Fransokyo yesterday, but he sounded like he was on the move, soon. All this is doing him good, too. He’s finding ways to be a separate person from Riku, even as simple as going to worlds Riku’s never been.”

“Aw, Riku’s a cool person to be,” Sora said with a fake pout. He knew of Ri’s circumstances, but would also say many things to come to the defense of his best friend.

“He is! I always liked Riku, he was so nice. But, Ri just… wants to be different. He’s trying to find a different name that he likes, too, but he hasn’t settled on one.”

“Maybe he should just stick an ‘x’ in Riku’s name and jumble up the letters.”

Naminé snickered, noting the mirth in his eye. “He’s not a Nobody.”

Sora laughed as he steered them toward Halloweentown, the dark and gloomy world already putting a light in her heart. Van may have been the dark half of Ven, once upon a time, but now there was no denying how happy he made her. He was going to be so surprised.

They landed just outside of the square, and Sora quickly cloaked the ship. Before they could step out, he cast the same cloaking magic that Donald used to cast to protect the world order. Out of the ship stepped a vampire, and a girl with webbed hands and feet, gills on her neck and frills around her head, the hem of her white dress dripping around her like water.

“Wow, Nam,” Sora said, looking her up and down while Naminé got as good of an eyeful as she could. This was her first time in Halloweentown, after all. “You make drowning look good.”

Naminé giggled and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Sora. Come on! I don’t know where the graveyard is so you hafta show me, I bet that’s where Van is.”

“O-okay,” Sora said when Naminé squeezed his hand. “How are you even wet?”

“Let’s go!”

Sora led her around, tossing greetings at the townsfolk. All of them were surprisingly friendly, all waving to Sora and Naminé as if they’d known them their whole lives. That, Van had told her once, was the one thing he didn’t like about living here. For such a spooky town, these townsfolk were far too friendly.

Behind one of the decorative guillotines, Naminé got her first clue without even having to acknowledge Sora. Sitting atop a wall, there was a Flood, watching the sky. They, of course, had no order to protect, and Van didn’t often care one way or the other.

“Flood, Flood!” Naminé cheered. She didn’t bother looking around for its master yet; since coming to live here, the Unversed had become staples of the community, and so were allowed to roam wherever they wanted.

The Flood looked down to her and stared for a second, working out if it knew her or not. It slowly crept down the wall, clinging to the shadows, sticking its little nose out to get a good sniff.

“Aww, don’t be afraid, little Flood,” Naminé cooed, putting out her hand. Normally, she got along splendidly with the Unversed, but she looked so different, and it probably didn’t help that the water on her washed away easy traces of her scent. “You know me, I promise.”

The Flood crooned noiselessly; even now, Van was the only one who could hear them. It touched its snoot to her fingertips and took a deep sniff.

And quickly leapt from the wall to her shoulders, knowing her now. It pressed its head to her wet chin and happily rubbed its head all over, just like a cat. Naminé pretended she could hear the crooning, and happily pulled it forward into her arms, to hug it and kiss its head. These were both Van’s pets, and extensions of Van himself. Showing them as much affection as possible was the easiest way to make sure Van felt loved.

“...Nam? You good?” Sora asked after a moment of fierce affection. He struggled with the Unversed, too. Didn’t get the affection. But he definitely saw Naminé loving on the Unversed, and the Unversed loving on her right back.

“Yeah!” Naminé pulled her face from the Unversed’s skin, smiling so wide it showed off her fangs. “I’m good. Sora, if you want to go see Jack and Sally, I bet this little guy can take me to Van. Isn’t that right?!?”

The Flood happily crooned at her and turned over in her arms to show her its belly and claws. Naminé took that as agreement.

Sora didn’t bother to hide the relief on his face when she said as much. He turned away for a second, then glanced back to ask, “you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine! I’d trust him with my life. I’ll just text you if there’s any problems, okay?”

Sora sighed, shaking his head affectionately. “Okay, yeah let me know. Say hi to Van for me, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks Sora!!” Naminé chirped. When Sora turned away, Naminé was quick to say “good bye! Have fun!! I love you!!!”

Sora chuckled to himself and waved goodbye. “Okay, bye Naminé. Love you too!”

Naminé waved until Sora was out of sight, and then turned down to her little companion. “Okay, Flood, show me where Van is.”

Somehow, the little emotion understood her perfectly. It righted itself in her arms and took off out of the square, looking over its shoulder occasionally to make sure she followed. It darted up unnecessarily huge steps that she had to jump up, and then through the gates. Even just through the bars of the gate, she could see her target hard at work tending to some of the Jack o’ lanterns that just grew that way.

The Flood scootched over to its master, but didn’t disturb him, instead watching Naminé as if to see if she saw. Naminé followed it silently. Van didn’t scare easy, but she almost hoped she could startle him.

“Vani!!”

Van yelped when Naminé threw her arms around his neck and dragged him down. She had no balance to begin with and so fell to the side, and whatever balance Van had in his shaky crouch was lost with her weight. He fell on top of her, narrowly avoiding ramming his shoulder into her clavicle.

“What the hell?!?” Van snapped, getting an arm beneath him to get a good look at his attacker. His eyes darted all around her, and he seemed to know her, but wasn’t certain enough.

The Flood who had narrowly avoided death crooned up at him happily and hopped up onto his shoulder, nuzzling its face against Van’s. It must have explained what it knew, because he turned down to look at her, a tiny smile on his face.

“Nam?”

“Hi, Vani. Can I hug you?”

“If I say no, will you let me go?”

Naminé pouted but retracted her arms. He was in one of those moods, huh? “Of course I will.”

“Hnnnn,” Van said, baring sharp incisors. “...Yeah, you can.”

Naminé quickly replaced her arms around his neck and squeezed him tighter, so tight he was probably struggling to breathe. She buried her face into the hair on the back of his neck and laughed to herself. Van wasn’t always a great hugger, but he sure was great at receiving them. Or, sitting there and doing nothing while he got them.

At least sometimes he reacted to them very positively, hugging back when he was in a very good mood or at least pressing in close. At least when he did that, Naminé knew he didn’t entirely hate them.

“What are you doing here?” Van asked when Naminé climbed off of him, sticking one leg between his so he had no choice but to stay seated with her.

“I missed you,” Naminé said very simply, shrugging her shoulders.

“...We are several worlds apart,” Van said very quietly. “That’s insane.”

“I know! But I missed you a lot and I just… wanted to be with you for a bit. Not just talking to you. Touching you.” She grabbed his arm and pushed her claws gently into his skin. She was one of four people he let touch him—the others being Ri, Aqua, and Ventus. She used it to her advantage, but made sure not to overwhelm him too much that he stopped letting her get close. “You’re my favorite.”

Van’s cheeks went a shade of gray, barely detectable in the moonlight, and he looked away from her. She didn’t miss the tiny smile pushing at his mouth. Van had spent far too long not being cared for by anyone, so he was always embarrassed when Naminé, and occasionally Ri, casually said something along those lines. He didn’t respond, but Naminé didn’t expect him to. It was enough when he squeezed his legs together around hers.

“How long will you be here?” Van asked, leaning back and looking up at the moon. “I could show you the Hinterlands, if you wanted. We could go down to the lake.” He poked at her arm and smeared the water on her a little. “Bet this form would like that.”

“That’d be cool!! Sora never mentioned a lake. But I don’t know how long we’ll be here. I want to catch up with Ri, but he mentioned heading out in a few days so I want to get some time.”

“You’re gonna see Ri, too?” Van said. He turned suddenly excited red eyes on her, perking up like a dog. As much as he wouldn’t say so, he did miss Ri terribly.

“Yeah!! It’s quiet in Radiant Garden and I missed you both, and Sora I guess had some time and wanted to roam.”

“...He’s here?” Van peered back towards the gates, scowling. He didn’t exactly dislike Sora, but he didn’t really like him, either. After being sealed in Sora’s heart longer than anyone else, Naminé understood his hesitation. They’d gotten along for as long as it took to drop Van off and make sure he could get himself settled nicely, but after that the two lookalikes had to back off.

“Yeah, he wanted me to tell you ‘hi’ for him. He's visiting with Jack and Sally now, though. You're in the clear.”

Van didn’t bother to hide silent relief. He lifted a hand to scratch at the Flood on his shoulder, who crooned again and affectionately nuzzled his cheek. He leaned back and laid in the dirt crossing his arms beneath his head. Apparently, he was done talking.

Naminé smiled at him anyway. Neither of them were conversationalists, and she didn’t mind at all.

So she scooted in close, pulled her leg back, and laid down right in his personal space, watching him the whole time to make sure that she wasn’t invading too much. He was a little twitchy, but then he often was.

“Hey Van?”

“Hmm?” Van hummed softly, moving his arm a little. When Naminé snuggled in a fraction closer, he adjusted enough to allow it.

Naminé lifted her chin to watch his face, then lifted her head to press her lips against his jaw, kissing the place that used to be permanently covered. “I love you. You know that, right? I love you?”

For just the briefest of moments, Van looked startled. He definitely wasn’t expecting the question. Then he smiled, eyes beyond soft. “Well, you tell me every time we talk, so yeah I figured it out.”

The kiss was new, but Naminé didn’t regret it. He deserved to know and he deserved to feel it. “Good. I love you.”

He laughed a little, just a tiny bit, and squeezed her tight. He didn’t say it back; he never had, but Naminé wasn’t discouraged. She felt it, too, in how differently he treated her and Ri from everyone else, even the ones he got along with. He cared for her in ways he did no one else.

After another moment of peace, Naminé wiggled around and sat back up. Her frills were pressed wonkily around her head, but she didn’t have nerve endings in them so she couldn’t feel it. “C’mon! We might not have the time to explore the Hinterlands, but you can show me around town and we’ll pretend we’re looking for Sora. And your home!! I want to see it!!!”

“Okay, okay. Let me finish what I was working on,” Van requested. He sat up beside her and ran a hand through his hair. Beside him, most of the leaves on the Jack o’ lantern stems had been trimmed away and neatened up, except a small section where Naminé had interrupted him. He took the shears he had and went back to work, working efficiently and diligently. He threw his scraps in a metal bin Naminé hadn’t seen before, then closed the lid and set the shears on top.

Naminé took his hand but let him lead the way. The lone Flood hopped up onto her shoulder and happily nuzzled her wet cheek.

They artfully dodged Sora, who was being shown things around town by Jack. The first time had been entirely Van’s doing, but Naminé decided to make a game out of it, if only so she could spend just a little more time here. The closer to Sora they got before they had to dodge out of his presence or line of vision, the harder Naminé giggled.

She was also fairly certain that Sora actually knew they were there, or had an idea, but was letting her spend more time with Van rather than rushing her along.

Van showed her all sorts of things. Jack’s house was huge, to account for both his height, and his status as the Pumpkin King. Dr Finkelstein’s lab gave her the creeps, and Van very pointedly instructed his Unversed to stay far away. The fountain was beautiful, even though the water in it was green and goopy. Naminé was pretty sure there was someone in there; she wondered if it was part of her species.

Lastly, he dragged her to the end of the town, bordering the Hinterlands, just to look at it. Apparently, deep in these woods, there were doors to a different holiday world. Easter, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Independence Day. Van claimed he’d been in a few, but he wouldn’t say which.

They sat amongst huge gravestones, just looking out into the woods. The Flood played in pools of water Naminé left behind, very deliberately getting itself dripping only to climb into Van’s hair and shake off right there.

Van only laughed and shoved the little creature away. Naminé was glad he’d found himself a home and a place he was comfortable; it was clearly doing wonders for his annoyance and anger. It made her glad she had yet to ask him to move to Radiant Garden, with her. He was happier here.

“When we leave, you should come,” Naminé said softly, covering one of his calloused hands with one of her own.

“...Leave where?”

“To see Ri!” Naminé reached a hand up to her shoulder, where the Flood was perched again. “He’s in San Fransokyo, now. He misses you, you know. You don’t call him, do you?”

Van’s cheeks went a shade of gray, and he sharply looked away. “...he doesn’t call me, either. I work a lot.”

“I know,” Naminé sighed. “I know you do, you keep yourself busy and it’s real, honest work and I’m really proud of you for it. But even if he doesn’t pick up, you should still call him. It reminds him that he’s loved. He needs to hear it, too.”

“Yeah, well… whatever,” Van said, cheeks grayer. Though Van didn’t deny that he loved Ri, too, he was embarrassed that it was spoken aloud.

Naminé smiled but rolled her eyes, curling her fingertips around his. “It’s okay, you can tell him yourself when you come with us to see him.”

“Nam…”

“What?” Naminé asked, leaning back a little. The Unversed wrapped around her neck to stare at its master. “You miss him, you love him. You don’t talk enough. It’s an easy fix! And Sora won’t be too jumpy, I promise.”

Van frowned hard, taking his hand back and crossing his legs to lean forward a little, more than a little nervous. Since coming to live here, he had gotten accustomed to letting his Unversed run rampant. Going to other worlds meant he couldn’t do that. Which meant bottling. Ever since he no longer had to, since Master Xehanort’s passing, he hated bottling.

The Flood quickly crossed over from Naminé’s shoulder onto his, as if offering him comfort. It nosed his cheek, speaking to him, pressing closer and closer. Scrapper Unversed started materializing—he was getting very nervous.

If she pushed him too hard, he’d flat out tell her ‘no’. He was nervous, and it was time to back off.

“...But I won't think any differently of you if you decide not to come,” she said instead. He didn’t like having choices stolen from him; at least this way, whether he agreed to come or not, it was his choice, not hers.

“...I won’t make any promises about Mr Sunshine,” Van finally said after a long minute, shoving the Flood off of his shoulder and vanishing the hovering Scrappers. His shoulders were a little stiff, but he seemed a little more at ease.

A huge grin grew over Naminé’s face. She leaned her head down onto his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “Yay! I’m really happy you’re gonna come, Vani! Then I get to spend more time with you. And don’t worry about Sora, not much gets him down so if you don’t talk to him, he’ll get it. I’ll talk to him. I love you.”

Van’s cheeks once again went shades grayer. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but he flashed her a surprisingly shy smile, lips sealed. As much as he could be a cocky asshole most of the time, something about having real friends now always made him clam up and get nervous. “Do what you want.”

“What are we doing?” Sora suddenly asked behind them, nearing from the town square. His sudden appearance made Van stiffen again, and slowly work Naminé off of him. Something about showing affection in front of people.

“Sora!” Naminé didn’t mind that she had been forcefully detached, at least. She squeezed Van’s hand once, then let go and hopped to her feet, leaving Van looking very deliberately away from Sora. “Sora.”

“Hi, Nam. Having fun?”

“Loads! Van and me have just been poking around. Listen, I know I asked him before asking you, but I hoped it was okay to bring Van with us to see Ri. They don’t talk as much as they should even though they’re like best friends.”

“I, uh… I mean, sure, if he wants to! I don’t mind. Wanna come with, um, Van?”

Van was still looking away from him, and did not respond. He still seemed embarrassed about being clung to and found out.

“He’s not feeling very social right now,” Naminé said very quietly, reaching out and touching Sora’s arm. “Nervous.”

“Ahh. Well, that’s okay! You’re definitely invited, Van!”

The Flood crooned up at her silently, touching her webbed feet as if asking a question of its own. She leaned down to scoop it up. “This little guy is probably gonna stay out, because it helps him, is that okay?” She grabbed one of its little claws in her fingers and waved it at him. The Unversed had no care whatsoever.

“Um, I guess, but make sure it doesn’t run around too much.”

“Will do! It’ll probably just stay in Van’s lap anyway; it helps.”

“Nam…” Van said warningly, shooting her a look.

Naminé winced, hugging it tighter in apology and hoping he felt it. “Er, or mine.”

“Okay. Well, if we want to get over to San Fransokyo before it gets too late, we should go! Timing’s a little different there, and you don’t want to miss their sunsets. C’mon!”

Van took a second to catch up, but Naminé waited for him anyway. She looped her arm around his loosely, and flashed apologetic eyes his way. He shrugged, but said nothing more on the subject.

Once they reached the Gummiship, Sora vanished the cloaking spell and let them in. Sure enough, when Van took a seat and was buckled in, the Flood leapt from Naminé’s arms into his lap, curling up like a pet. Naminé halfway expected it to start purring. She took the seat next to Sora again so he didn’t feel forced to be social, and once they were buckled in (Sora happily chirping “safety first!!”), they took off.

Naminé called Ri halfway to San Fransokyo, but hid who she was with and what she was doing to keep it a surprise. She screenshot her call so Sora had an idea of where they were going, then asked what he was up to. She happily shared conversation with Ri for a few minutes, until San Fransokyo showed up on Sora’s Navi-Screen, and she knew they were getting close. She happily turned her head back to look at Van, but he just watched the stars and asteroids fly by, and didn’t seem to notice. The Flood had yet to move.

“Okay, okay, I gotta go Ri! I love you!! See you soon!”

“...What?”

“Uh—nothing! Bye!”

“Smooth,” Van finally spoke up when Naminé hung up, which made Sora start to laugh, trying to at least cover it up with a wrist to his mouth for her sake. He reached over to take her phone when she offered it, saying “that’s where he was last.”

“Well,” Sora said cheerfully. “It’ll either be a huge surprise, or it’ll be small enough that he won’t get too surprised! If he’s anything like Riku, he won’t take surprises all that well.”

“He’s nothing like Riku,” Van snapped from the back, a hand resting on the Flood’s back and digging into its skin. “...But he doesn’t like surprises much.”

“He can be like Riku sometimes,” Naminé said. “He likes Riku. You’re the one who doesn’t.”

“He likes Riku because he thinks he has to,” Van corrected bluntly. “He’s still somewhere between ‘I Am Riku’, and ‘I Am Definitely Not Riku’, and all that self love crap is confusing him.”

“...Well, I hope it’s not crap,” Naminé said under her breath, frowning. Self love was not crap, and it wasn’t conceited either. It was a hard lesson that every person she knew of seemed to need working on, not just her boys.

“...I’m just saying,” Van said, conceding just a fraction.

Sora laughed goodnaturedly then coughed into his elbow when he felt Vanitas’ glare on him, silencing quickly. San Fransokyo was nearly just beneath the ship, so Sora turned the nose down sharply to descend into orbit. Naminé, and Vanitas behind them, both gripped their seats as the landing got shaky—no more than usual, but getting through the atmosphere was always a little disruptive. The Flood even darted into Vanitas’ jacket and poked its little head out to watch.

The massive blue and green expanse they flew above soon gave way to a huge red bridge. Sora excitedly started talking about the first time he got here, flying toward the forest on the other side of the bridge, away from the city. Sora happily chattered about how apparently this bridge, the Torii Gate Bridge, was one of the largest in this world. Naminé supposed that was cool—probably would be cooler, if she lived on this world or visited it regularly.

Still, the bridge was massive. That was cool. There was a semi-secluded clearing not far from the bridge that Sora dropped the ship into. Cloaking themselves apparently wasn’t necessary, so they exited the ship, and Sora cloaked it from view. Van took the Flood from his shoulder and stared at it, nervous. At least with one Unversed out, he could feel through it without being totally trapped. The Flood nosed his face and clawed at his hands happily.

“I bet,” Naminé said, feeling his nerves deep in her soul, “that if you put it in your jacket and don't make a big deal out of it, it’s fine to stay with you.” She couldn’t even imagine what it must be like, to not be able to feel emotions at all, without giving birth to a creature of darkness. That was one particular power of his that he’d never been able to put to words for them. The Unversed at least seemed to take on his emotions, varieties of them, once they were free, so he could feel in small spurts.

“...Yeah.”

“There’s lots of huge buildings too, with like 500 foot roofs at least, that are away from people and easy to get to, so they can, like, go free there,” Sora chirped. “C’mon! The sunset is to die for.”

Naminé gave him affectionate eyes, which she then tossed back to Van to see him lift his jacket and tuck the little critter inside. The Unversed seemed perfectly content to bury its face into its master’s side.

The walk felt long to start, but then Sora flashed a wink at them and took Naminé��s hand, reminding her to have “light feet”, whatever that was supposed to mean. He crouched his knees just a little and waited for a decent sized passing car, and he and she jumped, much to Van’s surprise and hidden delight, on top of it. He followed suit quickly after, and the trip into the big city took much less time.

Naminé was giggling like mad when they finally dismounted from behind, likely startling the driver. Sora waved them off with a sheepish grin, while Van actively fought back the appearance of another Unversed of some kind, hand protectively over his mouth.

“Why didn’t you just glide?” Naminé asked once Van successively fought back the rush of emotion, eyeing Sora. “It’d be easier. Scare less people.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Did you really just ask,” Van asked, voice strained like he was still fighting back tarry vomit, like it was still balled in his throat, “where the fun is in flying?”

“Besides,” Sora said, ignoring him. “I didn’t think either of you could glide.”

Van frowned and looked away. Naminé mumbled sheepishly about not being that far in her magic. That was all the answer he needed.

“Come on! Can I see your phone again? I’ll take you right to where he was, then I wanna see if I can track down Hiro and the others!”

Naminé passed off her phone. Sora got a good idea of the area, where Ri had been surrounded by round pink bushes, and then took off, Naminé followed closely with Van trailing a little behind.

It was outside of a huge building, but Naminé decided that wasn’t saying much since all the buildings here were huge. The bushes were pretty much perfectly round and absolutely, in Naminé’s opinion, delightful.

Ri, though, was not lost amongst them. This city was much bigger than Halloweentown was and, unlike with Van, there would be no delightful little darkness critters to lead her right to her best friend. They’d either have to hunt him down, or…

“Would the Flood know his scent?” Naminé asked Van, looking at the little blue critter tucked into his coat. “If he was just here?”

“You would be amazed,” Van started, but he obediently removed the little creature, “just how stupid these things are. I doubt it’ll know Ri.”

“Aren’t they extensions of you?” Sora asked, half-innocent. Van shot a positively evil glare on him, and Sora paled and took two steps back. “Um, I’m gonna dash, track down Hiro and them, okay? Just, um, remember the World Order, and call me if you get lost, this world is easy to get lost in. And!! Call me just before sunset, I wanna watch with you guys and catch up with, um, with Ri for a bit. We’ll get ice cream!! Okay?! Have fun!!” Like that, Sora was off. He freeran up the damn building and leapt onto the railing of the highway above them, grinding off quickly.

Naminé waved him off, bouncing on her toes. “Bye Sora!! I love you!!!”

Van shook his head, but now that they were alone again, the affection on his face was much freer to show when he looked at her. “You say that a lot.”

Naminè looked back at him, flashing her best grin. “Yeah, well, it’s true, and everyone should know. Don’t worry, you and Ri are still my favorite.” She surged forward and took his hand, and when he didn’t stiffen which normally meant he was okay with contact, she moved the rest of the way in and wrapped her arms around him, burying her cheek against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. C’mon, before we miss him.” Excitement shown on his face, and in the suddenly jittery Unversed. It had been a long time since he had last seen Ri. “Find Ri.”

The Unversed, apparently stupid as Van claimed, just stared at him, shaking a little as Van’s excitement leaked off of it.

“Go.”

If the Flood had been human, its eyes would have been dead.

But Naminé knew what to do. These things were extensions of Van himself, after all. She crouched in front of it and scratched its head, noting the way Van turned his head just slightly as if he could sort of feel it. “Go, find your best friend.”

The Flood stared at her, but this time with less stupidity and more confusion, like it was asking “why are you asking me to find you?” Then its nose twitched, and it whirled around and hopped over one of the bushes, now knowing what it was looking for.

Naminé glanced back to see Van completely gray in the face, blackened blood making his skin turn ashen. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought him ill, but she did know, and so knew he was needlessly embarrassed.

“Shut up,” he said, then took off after his Flood. Naminé laughed and followed.

The Flood was sniffing at a spot by one of the bushes that looked recently matted down, as if Ri had been laying there before vacating. Once it got a decent enough scent, it looked back at them as if to make sure that they were catching up. Then, it took off toward the side of the building, melted into the surface, and ascended like it was no problem.

Naminé stared up at the little critter, seeing its shadow in the building but only slightly. She looked to her companion. “You know how to freerun?”

“I think so. You?”

“I hope so.” Naminé gulped, then took Van’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Come on!”

She jumped and he jumped with her, activated their high jump, and angled themselves so their feet touched the building, and she prayed to something. Sure enough, their feet clung to the side of the building, as if gravity was merely a suggestion. After a second, she lost her footing, but as soon as they started moving, gravity forgot to care about them, and they followed the Flood up to the roof. It was a testament to how much time Sora spent here climbing walls, when so few people even noticed.

They soon had to jump to another building, following the Flood’s suggestion, and headed towards the center of town. It lead them up another tall building, where it rocketed right to the top of the building and stopped.

Once Naminé and Van were safely obeying gravity once again, the Flood took off to its final destination, the shoulder of the person standing there and staring at the flying fish things.

Ri started hard, not knowing they were there at all, when the Flood happily launched onto his shoulder and forcefully nuzzled his face. He grabbed it and lifted it away, then realized exactly what it was. “Flood…?” It would make no sense for an Unversed to be here, unless…

He turned in the direction it had come from, eyes absolutely lighting up when he saw its master, his best friends. “Naminé? Van?”

“Ri!” Naminé gasped. She luckily avoided tripping over her feet in her rush to grab him. She launched forward and hugged him so viciously that he lost his footing and hit the roof on his rear. She understood why Van didn’t like being touched, what most of his life had been like before turning to the Light, but she was still really really happy that Ri didn’t have the same qualms. She loved hugging him. He had been, out of everyone she knew and loved, of Sora and Roxas and Xion and Axel and Kairi and now Van, he had been her first friend. She huddled into his suddenly exposed lap and pressed in all the closer, possibly squashing the Flood. “I missed you. I love you.”

Ri was still somewhere between amazed and startled, staring up at Van and eyes darting toward the blond hair not for from his face. After a moment though, he wiggled the Unversed somewhere safe, and hugged Naminé back just as tightly, kissing her cheek for good measure. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Aw, didn’t you miss us?” Van asked, half mocking. There was black tar dripping out the corner of his mouth, which meant Van was attempting to squash emotions and, ultimately, was failing.

“I kidnapped Van.”

“Of course you did,” Ri said with an affectionate sigh. The affection flashed between both his friends, and Naminé knew there was no judgment toward Van for not being the one to decide on his own to visit. Where Ri wanted freedom to be who and where he wanted to be, rather than trapped in a castle or Riku’s heart, Van wanted control over his life and choices, and a place to call home.

Ri shoved Naminé off of him playfully, then got back to his feet, offering the Flood to its master, although the extra outlet for emotion didn't seem like it would do him any good. An Unversed was well on its way.

Regardless, Van stepped forward and opened up his arms, a gesture he had never given to anyone but them. “I’m hugging you,” he said, a semblance of the question they always posed for him. Naminé wasn’t sure if he was telling them that yeah, it was okay and he wasn’t forcing it, or maybe it was him warning himself, but he had always done it and they didn’t question it.

“I won’t stop you,” Ri assured with a laugh. Like Naminé had, he invaded Van’s personal space and buried his face in Van’s shoulder. Despite not being terribly tall, Van was still the tallest of them, and Ri and Naminé always took full advantage of it when he let them.

The hug lasted for five seconds tops, before Van suddenly lurched in Ri’s arms and shoved him to the side, not violently but enough to get him out of the way. A hand flew to his mouth, and he quickly doubled over, gagging. Naminé and Ri’s hands quickly went to his back.

He lurched again, a terrible, bubbled noise coming out of his throat. Thick, black tar flew out and splattered on the metal, more dripping from his mouth to fill out the pool. He coughed and more came up, bubbling out of his mouth. He spat the acrid taste out and shuddered there, hands on his knees, Naminé and Ri rubbing his back helpfully. After a minute, the tar bubbled up again and took life, forming into a Hareraiser who stared up at its master and stepped forward as if to help soothe.

“...Did you have to do that now?” Ri asked, shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

Van shot him a heated glare and pulled a kerchief out of his pocket, a gift from Jack Skellington apparently, judging by the skeleton face in the corner. “You know damn well I don’t have a choice. I should kick you off this building.”

“No!!”

After a moment, the three sat at the edge of the building, staring at the mechanical flying fish. Naminé linked her fingertips with Ri’s and leaned on his shoulder, giving Van the space he needed after so violently birthing another Unversed. The Hareraiser perched on Ri’s shoulders and occasionally nuzzled him happily, very much embarrassing Van again without meaning to.

“Why did you guys come here?” Ri asked after a short amount of time, silver hair swaying in the breeze. He kept his hair back in a low pony now, because he didn’t like his hair getting in his eyes but wasn’t prepared to cut it yet. Kairi had once braided it not long after he was reborn, lamenting how much she missed Riku’s long hair. “I mean, why here. Why now?”

“We missed you, dumbass,” Van snapped.

“We love you,” Naminé said very simply, making Van sigh while Ri tossed her the fondest expression known to man. He squeezed her tight, and stuck his tongue out at Van, who snottily stuck his out back at him.

“She’s become fond of the phrase,” Van explained, although it was hardly necessary.

“Well, I do. And we did miss you, and I had time, and I had Sora. We do miss you. Plus Van doesn’t call you because he’s mean.”

“Oh yeah, he’s the worst.”

“Hey,” Van snapped. “I just spit up some awful bunny for you.”

The Hareraiser raised its ears as if aware it was being spoken of. Van winced when supposedly its voice shrieked in his head.

“Happy birthday to me.”

“Screw this, I’m going home,” Van snapped, although the tone in his voice suggested less. He shoved himself up off the side of the building, turning around to walk away. Ri laughed and released Naminé to lean back and grab at Van’s ankle. The Hareraiser lifted its ears to wrap around his knee, too, forcing Van to a stop. Well, more or less; he was certainly powerful enough to kick them both off without struggle, if he really wanted to.

“Get back here, asshole, we’re only messing with you. Of course I like your awful bunny. It’s wonderful.”

The aforementioned Unversed cheered to itself, waving its ears in delight. Van kicked its ear, and Ri’s hand, out of his way, then obediently melted into the rooftop, crossing his arms over his crossed legs. Naminé leaned her head back and flashed him her best smile.

The trio fell back into silence. Ri was stretched back, one hand knotted in Naminé’s shirt, the other just barely grazing Van’s knee. The wind was cool and gentle, the sun bright but they were protected by the shade of the building. They were so high up that the chatter from down below was pretty much non existent. It was like the three of them were the only people in the whole world.

“...You know,” Ri suddenly said, stretching his hand up to reach for nothing but air. “I think this is the best random hangout session we’ve ever had.”

“I don’t think we’ve had one before,” Naminé said. Since the three of them regularly lived on different worlds, nothing they did could be random. Everything was planned. It was nice, and it worked for them. She’d take what she could get.

“You have sad hangout sessions,” Van commented, flicking his head. “All we’ve done today is find you, hug, I threw up an Unversed, you made me hate you, and this.”

“Thrilling,” Naminé agreed, in such a sardonic Roxas voice that it made her start giggling to herself.

“Shut up Van. Naminé has a point. We haven’t had one before, and that means that legally I’m allowed to call this one our best yet.”

“Legally?” Van asked with a laugh. His laugh had mellowed out since his release from the dark, and Naminé and Ri both found it quite pleasing. “You must not have gotten the memo. You aren’t allowed to do that anymore. CDA’s gonna come and break down your door.”

“CDA? What the fuck is CDA?”

“Oh—wrong world?” Van pulled a face, and Naminé and Ri started laughing with him. Naminé pushed herself back a little and laid back to use one of his knees as a pillow. It was bony, and he was still skinny, but she liked the warmth.

“I agree with Ri,” Naminé said softly. The Flood was in her arms, arguably sleeping if Unversed ever slept. “This is the best, even if all we’ve done is find Ri and watch you throw up. I really needed this.”

“Needed?” Ri asked, turning his head to look at her. And there it was, that protective thing he was always so good at.

“You didn’t say anything was wrong earlier,” Van said, voice suddenly tight. Naminé worried she was forcing on him some sort of emotion that was going to come bursting out in the form of black tar.

“No no it’s… I mean, everything’s fine. Nothing’s wrong, don’t either of you go worrying about me.”

“Legally we have to,” Van protested.

“Shut up.”

“Everything’s fine! I just, I’ve been missing my favorite people a lot, and we don’t always talk as much as I like, and obviously we can’t spend a lot of time together and, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been lonely.”

“Lonely?” Ri sat all the way up, removing himself from Van’s personal space, to look down at her. He shared a suddenly nervous look with Van, who shifted a little to allow the adjustment. “You can’t be lonely. You said you’ve been doing better.”

“I was. And I am! Leon and his team, they’re all awesome. Sora’s awesome. Xion’s awesome. Terra’s—awesome. But they’re not… they’re not… I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t be lonely because I have friends now, loads of them, and it’s great! Kairi calls me every day, all the time, and she keeps saying ‘oh, you should have seen what Sora did this morning!’ or ‘Riku spent the night last night and we were up for hours’. Stuff like that. I just. I don’t know.” Naminé looked away from Ri and Van, going red in the face. She hugged the Unversed closer. She didn’t want to look at either of them, because she knew why they did what they did, and she knew why she did what she did. She didn’t even always feel like this, in fact most often she didn’t, but some days the miss happened, and she called up Sora to drag her all across galaxies. “I don’t know.”

“Nam—Nam, do you… are you jealous?” Ri asked, poking her bare arm. “Of Kairi? ‘Cause I mean that’s cool, Kairi’s cool, but if you ask me she’s got nothing on you.”

“Are you, like…” Van leaned over her a little, struggling with his words because emotions were hard to feel, let alone talk about. “...sad? That we don’t live on the same world as you?”

“It’s dumb! I know it’s dumb! Because you guys are awesome. You really really are! You’re out there living your best life, Van you have a steady job that keeps you busy and distracts your anxiety that you’re really good at, and you have a home where your emotions can do whatever they need or want to the way that they should, and that’s awesome!! Ri, you’re out here exploring worlds upon worlds upon worlds, you’re finding yourself in this spectacular way and you’re finding out every way that you are and aren’t Riku and that’s awesome. I hate feeling like this. Because it isn’t fair of me to want to uproot you from where you guys are finally happy.” Naminé squeezed the Unversed even tighter, so tight the squeak was nearly audible, but the wince from Van was definitely visible.

Van and Ri shared another look before looking down on her. Van lifted her head and scootched out his knee from beneath. He moved a little and slid down alongside her, laying back so they were side by side. Ri scooted down and laid on her opposite side. The three huddled together like sardines, and for once none of them minded the touch in the slightest.

“It’s okay, Nam. If you miss us. Or if you want to call us up in the middle of the night because world times are fucked up and you want to tell us all about your latest art project. We might not talk but we’ll listen. Well— I’ll listen, Van’ll fall asleep.”

“You—knew damn well how much work I did the day before, you called me then on purpose!”

“Shut up Van this isn’t about you.”

“Pot shot,” Naminé said quietly, reaching over to pinch Ri like Van asked her to every time he made a low blow.

“The point is, we’re still your friends, no matter what. You were my first friend.”

“You were my first friend,” Van agreed softly.

“So we’ll be here, even when you’re lonely and you don’t think you should be.”

Naminé sighed, wiggling her shoulders a little so she came out on top. “I know. In my head, I know. I just… it’s not the same as being with you. Touching you.” She released the shaky Unversed, reaching out both her hands to track down Van and Ri’s hands. “Even when you don’t always like it.”

“...Sorry we can’t be there, then,” Van mumbled. Their pinky and ring fingers locked.

The trio lapsed once again into silence. The Hareraiser once again found Ri’s free hand and was demanding head skritches, so Van occasionally turned his head in a fruitless attempt to get away from the bizarre muted feeling.

“You know what I think?” Van suddenly asked, which was odd considering he didn’t often voice his opinions unless he was being snide.

“What do you think,” Ri asked.

“I think somewhere out there, there’s a world for us. Like how stupid Ventus and his friends have a world practically made for them, and OG Riku and his friends have a world made for them, and even the two carbon copies and their friends have worlds made for them. I think somewhere there’s a world like that for us. Some kind of weird mix of light and dark.”

“Mostly dark,” Ri interjected halfway playfully, watching him. Van was suddenly talking with his free hand, fingers up towards the clouds.

“Oh obviously, light is gross.”

“Obviously,” Naminé giggled.

“What do you think of this world made for us?” Ri asked. “What will we do with it?”

“I dunno. I’m not saying we, like, we move there but. Who knows. Maybe one day, you’ll go there Ri, and you’ll find out its like hella artsy and shit. So you call up Naminé, and because it’s hella dark and there are weird monsters everywhere you call me, and now we have to go check it out, and maybe we just don’t leave.”

“Hmmm…” Naminé said seriously, setting her chin. “We’ll be on the same world.”

“Pretty much all the time.”

Naminé’s smile grew back over her face, in a soft and gentle way that really, Van and Ri both loved. “I think that sounds amazing, Van.”

“Yeah, it sounds pretty cool. I’ll keep my eye out for really super fucking dark but also really super fucking artsy worlds, and I’ll let you know the next one I see.”

“Cool.”

“Until then,” Ri said, squeezing Naminé’s hand, “maybe Van and me can get out to Radiant Garden more. So you’re not so lonely. Would that be okay? Van?”

“...Yeah. I can make it work. But Naminé, you have to show us something cool every time.”

“Legally, or CDA will kill you.”

Naminé looked between her two half-bickering boys, her best friends in the whole multiverse, attempting to make plans that she wasn’t even sure they’d be able to keep, just because she sometimes got lonely. The Flood was nuzzling her chin as its own affection as well as Van’s took over.

“...Okay, I think I can do that. I really love you guys.”

Ri pressed closer to her and leaned his head against hers. Van squeezed her hand tight, and she knew they felt the same.

Sora was right. The sunset was fucking spectacular, especially from the vantage point atop the Torii Gate Bridge. As promised, Naminé called up Sora and they met him on the bridge. Van glared at him, but then he presented bars of chocolate ice cream, and he mellowed out. Sora took a slightly higher vantage point than them, leaving the three to their companionship while still able to interject himself.

Ri had spent the rest of the day showing them cool things around the city and talking about his time there. He only dropped Naminé’s hand when he had to.

He also carried the Hareraiser around all day, and it curled in his lap now, not prepared to leave, apparently. Van mumbled under his breath when he noticed, but didn’t seem all in all too upset that it stayed where it was.

“I feel like we should come back here more,” Naminé said softly. “Just for this part. Or for all of it. Today was great.”

“I’m leaving here the day after tomorrow,” Ri reminded her, poking her head.

“...Elsewhere then. Somewhere else pretty. Oh!! The Caribbean would be cool.”

“We should live there,” Van agreed. “They have ships and you don’t have to talk to people because you can be on the ocean one hundred percent of the time.”

Ri rolled his eyes and smacked a fist on Van’s thigh, making him laugh.

“That won’t work because I need electricity to do digital art and also phones won’t charge.”

“Yeah, Van, you’d die without your phone.”

Van willed an Archraven into existence, then pulled out his phone to consider it. He shrugged, said “eh”, and tossed it over the edge.

“Van!”

The Archraven instantly trailed after the little device, depositing it back in his lap and perching on his shoulder.

“That’s the only way we can contact you when you’re on a different world, asshole!”

Naminé, giggling, dropped her head toward her lap and the Flood, who lifted its snoot to her, ready to be kissed. “Why are you the way that you are,” she said, as Van had asked them a number of times when he was simply too tired to put up with their shenanigans. She took the Flood’s head in her hands and angled it back a little bit so she could easier kiss it.

“Hey, you guys like me this way, that’s not my fault.”

Ri let out a startled laugh and shoved Naminé into him, making them both start laughing as well. The Archraven waved its wings in protest of the movement and clicked its beak at Ri. They settled and left the poor Unversed be.

“...I don’t think I want to go home,” Naminé said. “I love Radiant Garden, but I don’t wanna say goodbye yet. I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too,” Ri said softly, flashing her a warm smile.

“Love you too,” Van agreed, halfway startling Ri and Naminé. They looked at him with huge eyes; he’d never said so before. He showed it, but he’d never said the words.

“...You do?”

“Yes? God, fuck off. Nevermind then.”

“Nono!!” Naminé gasped, flinging her arms around him and squeezing him tight. “I love you too, Vani. I’m just surprised you didn’t throw up an Unversed again.”

“...That really only happens when it’s sudden.”

Naminé squeezed him tighter, enjoying that implication. “I hope it’s okay that I’m hugging you. I forgot to ask.”

“Yeah yeah…” Van said, putting his arm around her. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Ri stood from where he was now left alone and slunk over to Van’s other side, putting his arms around him and squeezing him tight too. “I’m hugging you now, since they’re free.”

“Whatever. Last one.”

Naminé leaned her head on Van’s shoulder, looking up to Sora who was smiling very warmly at them. He leaned back and watched the sky, as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did. She didn’t know how times worked on different worlds. “Do you love him too, Van? Or just me.”

“Definitely just you.”

“Ouch,” Ri said with a laugh.

“Van!”

“You asked!”

“It’s okay Nam,” Ri said, patting her head. He released Van and let him take some space back. “I know he loves me because a few weeks ago I called him three times on the same day and he only yelled at me for like ten minutes the last time.”

“Three times in one day is unnecessary.”

“It must be love,” Naminé agreed.

“It is,” Van snapped, then he realized he’s spoken alone and his skin went several shades ashier. “Anyone else but you two and I wouldn’t even have answered once.”

That was true.

“Yeah, well, anyone else but you two and I wouldn’t even have called, so it must be love or something.” Ri gently kicked Van’s boot so he knew, and Van kicked back.

Naminé smiled at her friends and leaned back, the sunset now almost totally blocked out by the Flood. “You know, I think today might be the best day ever.”

Ri leaned back. Van sat up between them, but put his hand on her belly to pat.

“I think you’re probably right.”

#my writing #creative aces #kh #khfanfic #lost trio #namine #vanitas #repliku #riku replica #i just really love the lost trio you guys I really really do #vanitas is definitely ooc #and it's only partly because he's healing #not re:mind or kh3 compliant #sorry guys no links i want this to show up somewhere #also reblog or die by my blade

38 notes · View notes