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ucetheones · 9 months

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Jey Uso X The Judgement Day!Polycule. | Found Family.

as you can tell, that segment really got my brain WORKING. because jey w tjd?? y'all know that's right up my mf alley!! ive only written jey x dom and like,, barely; but w.e!! eat ur fucking food <3

unedited cos yeah.

Joining The Judgement Day could've been the biggest mistake of Jey's life, it could've easily been the worst choice he's made. Turning heel again after such a short time being a baby face was by far the oddest part for the Samoan.

But, despite all the people telling him he was wrong for agreeing, despite all the ways it could've gone badly, Jey stood alongside them only weeks following Dominik's proposal. It was so far an amazing choice.

Of course it wasn't truly as easy as just agreeing, they wanted to set boundaries from the jump. Jey did too.

He needed to know he wasn't trapping himself, he couldn't handle another situation like that of The Bloodline. He voiced this.

In turn, they made it clear should Jey want out, he was free to do so, they weren't taking prisoners. They were family. They also made it clear that they'd always fight with him, and never against him, no matter what issues they may be having in the back.

For their unwavering protection and devotion, the faction demanded one thing. That one thing being Jey keeps the true nature of The Judgement Day's relationship to himself. It wasn't uncommon for co-workers to date, but it was uncommon for entire factions to find themselves together.

Jey agreed. He had no issues with what they got up to.

Unsurprisingly, bonding with Dominik was the easiest of the group, the younger man was much different than his on-screen persona. He was gentle, sweet, and incredibly tactile. On numerous occasions, Jey has woken up to find Dom wrapped around him, knocked out and drooling onto the spare hotel pillow.

The first time, Jey startled, jostling the sleeping male in the process, who merely pouted and shuffled closer. When Priest had returned to the room, Jey scrambled for an explanation, only to be met with a low laugh, and a quick, "Get used to it," before he was passing Jey a cup of still hot coffee.

After that, Jey found himself in that position at least twice a week while traveling with the faction.

Slowly, Jey got closer with the rest of the group, he and Finn found an easy rhythm training together, while he and Damian worked out strategy.

Rhea was harder to find an entry with, both tried countless times at conversation, and building a connection; but to little avail. It was starting to grate on Jey's nerves, but he knew it wasn't the woman's fault. It wasn't his either. Or maybe it was, he couldn't say for sure.

Still, it frustrated him to no end.

He and Rhea went on that way for nearly three months. Three fucking months. Until the first time he'd seen Jimmy outside of promotion. He hardly remembers locking eyes with his twin before the elder is pushing his way through the small crowd to try and talk to him.

Jey hasn't spoken to Jimmy seriously, since before he joined The Judgement Day. He doesn't want to talk to him, or anyone from his family for that matter, but Jimmy is determined.

"Aye, Uce! You don't answer the phone no more? What's up wit' you?"

Jey wants to tell him he got a new phone and number, wants to tell him he only kept the other phone for the day he felt ready to face his family again.

He says none of this, because his breathing is picking up, and his hands are starting to shake.

Jimmy doesn't quit, to the shock of no one.

"You join The Judgement Day and now you too good fo' yo' own twin? You know, bein' on RAW just temporary, baby bro. I'ma get you back."

Before Jey can shake his head, and force out a reply, he feels Rhea's hand slipping into his; offering him both a lifeline and relief.

"You think cornering Jey in a place where every member of his family is, was a bright idea?" Rhea's voice is firm, fierce in the way she only gets when one of her boy's is in potential danger.

Meaning she sees Jey as such. She sees him as family. He doesn't show it, but he is slightly surprised. But he knows he probably shouldn't be, he wouldn't have lasted as long as he did with the group if she hadn't.

Moreover, without looking, Jey knows exactly where Dominik, Finn and Damian are. He knows they're currently surrounding all exits should Jimmy try something. He feels comforted by the knowledge.

Jimmy sucks his teeth, his tone clipped as he speaks, "you ain't his family, Rhea. Don't start tripping. Y'all can pump that family bullshit on RAW and have the fans eat it up, but you don't know Jey. You don't know shit 'bout him. You don't know how to comfort him after a bad day, you don't know shit 'bout what my twin been through!"

In reply, all Rhea does is tilt her head and hum once.

"I know him well enough to know what he looks like when he's had a nightmare about the day you kicked him in the face. We know him well enough to know why Jey can't sleep with his back to the door anymore. We know what he looks like when he's feeling safe, and carefree."

Jimmy grows visibly upset at her words, a soft growl bubbling from his chest. The implications of what she said rang loud and clear.

All Jey can do is inch closer to the woman, his lips pursed as he gives her hand a gentle tug. A silent plea for something Jey isn't even sure of.

Still, she seems to understand if the way she smirks is anything to go off of, "You might not have a Mami, but Jey does. And Mami? She takes care of her boys, unlike your Tribal Chief. Remember that next time you think you can just step to Jey when he clearly wants nothing to do with you."

They don't give Jimmy the chance to respond before Rhea is ushering him away.

It should embarrass Jey that Rhea is younger than him, and had essentially taken on the role of protecting him, but it doesn't.

It makes him feel warm inside, valued in a way he never felt amongst his own blood. She cared enough to stick her neck out for him, to show she wasn't going to leave him high and dry outside of matters of the business.

Hell, he wasn't even aware Rhea knew anything about him, let alone such intimate things.

When they meet up with the rest of the group, Dominik latches onto Jey like he's afraid he'll vanish; effectively burying his nose into the Samoan's neck as he mumbles, "He's lucky Mami went over there and not me, he'd be meeting my foot up his ass, Amor."

Jey can't help but flush red before bursting into laughter alongside the others, the absurdity of Dom's words hitting them all at once, they all ignore the way the younger man sputters his defenses. Finn is the only one to offer him any apologies, ruffling his hair in the process.

Back at the hotel, Rhea pulls him aside. She's silent as she stares at him, before she's tugging him into a hug, her accent thick with emotion, "we've got you now, Jey. You can exhale, you know?"

His knee-jerk reaction is to question what she means, but she continues before he can, "you've been wound up so tight for so many years…you can let us carry some of that burden. You're not some tag-along. We sought you out, we saw you. You don't have anything to prove to us, or anyone else…"

At that moment, it dawns on Jey that in getting close with the others, he might've unintentionally been steering away from Rhea, trying to prove himself as an asset to her by working well with the others. As the only woman in their faction, her opinion was highly favored, one declaration of Jey being unneeded and he'd be gone.

But here she was, telling him without fear that the opposite was true.

With a shaky nod, Jey wraps his arms around her frame, exhaling softly when he feels her fingers begin to card through his curls. An action he's seen her perform on Dominik to bring him back down to reality when things get too loud in his head.

Jey can see why it works for Dom, because it definitely is for him.

He's relaxing against the Australian woman, finding warmth in the gentle vibration coming from her chest as she begins to sway their embraced frames.

The first person to kiss Jey is coincidentally Rhea. They were all drunk, and incredibly touchy. Which was fine for the original members of The Judgement Day as they were all dating, but it should've been weird for them when Dominik demanded to sit in Jey's lap. It should've been weirder for everyone when Rhea leaned down and pressed a messy, albeit passionate kiss to his lips after doing so to Dom first.

It wasn't at all weird that Jey didn't hesitate to return the kiss, earning a breathy moan from the Australian.

Instead Finn gasped loudly and began frowning, "Rhea! You skipped tha' line! Ya'know I wanted ta' be first! I was gonna ask Jey in tha' morning."

Rhea merely laughs, the sound slightly mischievous but excited, "Ya' snooze ya' lose, baby!"

Jey is quick to voice his confusion, along with his approval, "I ain't sure what's goin' on righ' now, but if one of ya' don't kiss me again, I'm leavin'."

In turn, Damian doesn't waste any time scooping Dom out of Jey's lap, passing him off to Rhea; before he's claiming Jey's lips in a kiss. The room fills with whoops and laughter.

It was undoubtedly different from kissing Rhea, if for no other reason than because he was leading the kiss with an ease Jey couldn't keep up with in his drunken haze, but he was hellbent on trying his best.

Before he can fully lose himself in the kiss, Finn is huffing and easily replacing Damian, quickly spurred on by the small whimper Jey can't hold back when their lips meet.

Much like with the others, the kiss is over far too soon for Jey's liking, but he's unable to express his disdain before Dominik is pushing his way past Finn and Damian to reclaim his place in Jey's lap.

"Ah, the best for last! Unlike these animals, I'm a gentleman, with manners. So, Jey, may I have the honor of kiss—" the elder silences Dom by capturing his lips in a heated kiss, ripping a wanton whine from the male as his arms wrap around Jey's neck.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of random kissing, ending in everyone passing out on Jey's bed; a mess of tangled limbs greeting them the following morning.

From then on, things between Jey and the faction only grew stronger. They'd made things official a few days after that fateful night, Jey easily falling into the fold, completing their relationship in ways none knew they'd needed until the Samoan was taking his rightful place alongside them.

The night Jey won the Intercontinental Championship, Damian and Finn were at ringside, cheering him on and keeping the members of Imperium at bay.

Rhea and Dominik were noticeably absent, but Jey knew beforehand they'd be recovering from their own matches that night.

He was pleasantly surprised when his girlfriend had slid into the ring, shadowed by Dominik who was beaming and gathering him in a tight hug.

Rhea gave a speech, declaring this only the beginning of their dominant reign on Monday Night Raw, with every member of their faction holding gold, it was only a matter of time before one of her boys would be plucking that title from Seth Rollins.

Breathing heavily, his arm and title raised above his head whilst the rest of his family celebrates his win, Jey can't help but feel reaffirmed that he made the right choice in joining their mismatched family.

It worked in ways no one aside from the five of them would ever understand, and Jey was more than okay with that. He didn't need to explain himself to anyone. Not with his three boyfriends and spitfire of a girlfriend in his corner.

26 notes · View notes

hard--mode · 3 years

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Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

#unsure what to tag this as lol #sorry if the readmore doesnt work for any reason

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spiral-ingoutofcontrol · 2 years

Note

PLEASE TELL ME ALL ABOUT THE AU YOU'VE BUILT AROUND THE ANGSTY ARMADA UNIT FIC Ive come up with some ideas of my own in the 12ish hours that this fic has existed in my life and im curious to see how they differ from what you made

Leah I am in LOVE with you for sending this ask 😍🥰😩

For anyone that hasn’t read Glitchflower’s Piratin’ with Gears here’s the link. It’s 300 words of pure angst and I haven’t stopped thinking about that shit since a I read it two and a half years ago😭😭😭

Little bit of a self plug for my corresponding moodboard for this AU. The moodboard is for my captain, Caroline Blake but I’m going to leave out the name and leave it gender neutral here 👀 insane ranting under the cut

OKAY SO we don’t diverge from canon until the end of Cool Ranch and then we go absolutely off the rails. Instead of making it out with the ship and their second piece of the map, Deacon manages to pull himself together, sneak up on the crew in their moment of celebration, and put the barrel of his gun against their Captain’s head. He gives them an ultimatum. Leave with their Captain or with their piece of the map. They aren’t leaving the skyway with both.

It’s an easy decision for the crew- they wouldn’t have gotten this far without their Captain. With them at the helm, they would be able to recover the map pieces and beat the Armada back into submission. Their Captain made a different call. They couldn’t let the Armada have half of the Map to El Dorado. So they gave the map piece to Bonnie Anne and let Deacon lead them back to the Erebus at gun point. The dramatic bastard even locks them up in the (now repaired) part of the brig that they were being held in at the beginning of the game.

This becomes the first time that the pirate meets Kane- they also spit on him which isn’t important to the plot but is important to me. He tells Deacon to take the pirate to Bishop. If they aren’t willing to offer up any information relevant to the Armada’s cause, he could use the pirate for his special project. If you’ve read the ficlet and you know where this is going, I am SO sorry.

Things get fuzzy for the pirate after being delivered to Bishop. Between the torture, long stretches of time between meals, and Bishop drugging them every time he takes them out of their prison cell, everything blends together. The line between dreams and reality blur. Are they really trying to escape over and over only to be captured again or just wishing it to be true? Is Bishop really making them test out his latest machine when he let them leave their room or were they making it all up? By the end of it, the pirate is following Deacon around like a loyal guard dog. They know that there’s no point in trying to run anymore. Kane is pleased with the results of Bishop’s mysterious project.

Their crew finds them after two months, at half strength and still searching for their lost Captain. They’re heard about the Armada testing a new weapon and went to see what it was. They weren’t expecting it to be their captain.

But their captain wasn’t the same. They didn’t respond to their own name- only to orders given to them by Deacon when he called them Galatea. Their entire right arm had been replaced with the most intricate piece of clockwork they had ever seen. And boy could the thing do damage. It hit harder than a brick and came equipped with a canon and a concealed blade. They almost took out Ratbeard’s good eye in the ensuing fight. By some miracle- or maybe some cruel twist of fate- the crew is able to knock them out and drag them back to the ship before they’re able to kill anybody.

When the Captain wakes up, they’re back to their normal selves, but it’s very obvious that things are never going to be the same. The Armada had been controlling them like a puppet. A good knock to the head wasn’t going to fix them forever. They couldn’t even remove the clockwork arm- Nurse Quinn wouldn't even know where to start on it. It was the most advanced prosthetic she had ever seen. Ratbeard didn’t hobble around on that peg leg because he thought it matched his outfit.

The Captain disbands the crew out of fear. They don’t want to hurt their friends- their family- because they were being forced to live at the Armada’s beck and call. They go into hiding on a farm in Cool Ranch with Old Scratch as their only companion- the old skeleton to loyal to leave them all alone in the desert. They find peace out there. They find time to heal. And then they find Bonnie Anne and Subodai in their living room one day. They’ve found a new lead on the map, a duck in Mooshu that was in the picture of Pollo’s crew. They want to get the band back together. Finish what they started.

The pirate doesn’t want to go. They only agree after Subodai promises them something unthinkable. If the Armada turns them against the crew again, they want Subodai to kill them. They’ve known each other the longest and saved each other’s necks more times than the pirate can even count. He’s the only one that they trust to really go through with it in the end.

And in the end, he has to.

#lol sorry for the abrupt ending I don't have the whole outline done yet #pirate101 #pitty101 #pitty #pitty fandom #i might actually write some stuff for this if y'all're inch rested #but i should should probably actually finish where the ocean is the sky first lol #thanks for the ask leah im crying

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

heavy is the head that wears the crown

Hey besties...

This was my first CM fic, and it was only on ao3, so I am now cross-posting it almost a whole year later because I changed my url and was redoing my masterlists so... yeah.

IT IS FROM A YEAR AGO PLEASE DO NOT COME FOR ME IT'S ALMOST EMBARRASSING JUST COPYING IT </3

Trigger Warnings: depictions of child abuse, aftermath of abuse, canon-typical violence, references to self-harm (it’s not depicted, but hotch has some unhealthy thoughts in the hardwick scene), heavily implied sexual content

read on ao3!

He remembers the last time his father laid a hand on him perfectly. He remembers it perfectly because it was the most painful. When he was feeling particularly low, he wondered if his father knew he was going to die and wanted to watch his oldest son try and hold himself together as one small act of defiance.

He remembers how each strike with the belt hurt more than the last. He remembers how he tried to keep his voice down, because Sean was sleeping, and he didn’t need to ever find out that their father was a bastard. He remembers that the pain became unbearable the moment his father pressed the still lit cigarette to the cuts and that he had screamed so loudly, he was scared the neighbours would come running. Remembers how his father had yanked his hair so hard more tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.

But they didn’t fall. Not when his father shoved him to the ground and left him to deal with his injuries himself. They didn’t fall then because he knew that for one more night, his mother and Sean would be safe from his touch. And that would have to be enough to keep him going.

They didn’t fall when the nice lady from reception asked to speak to him and told him how sorry she was but the hospital had phoned to say his father was dead after suffering a heart attack at work. He didn’t cry then because he was too busy thinking about how Sean was going to be destroyed. And his mother would likely retreat further into herself, leaving him to pick up the pieces and take over the home.

He didn’t break at the funeral. Sean was clinging to his hand, tears streaming down his face, even as he didn’t understand why daddy wasn’t coming home. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream, because despite everything that man had done to him, he had never touched Sean, not even when he had been at boarding school and unable to protect him. But he didn’t, because neither he nor his brother had access to their inheritance, and they needed to survive. His mother wouldn’t work- and he wouldn’t want her to. But it meant it was up to him.

So he looked at himself in the mirror, put the mask that transformed him from Aaron, the delightful teenager who was in the theatre club, into Mr Hotchner, the man who could provide for his family and be who they needed him to be.

It was almost too easy.

If he thought about it for too long, he would classify the whole incident with Vincent Perotta as his version of a breakdown. As the garrotte tightened around his neck, and as it became harder and harder to fill his lungs with the need to live, all he could think of was his father and Haley. His father smirking as his eldest son finally met the end he deserved- killed by someone he should have been able to defeat in the dark because he had gotten distracted- and Haley, home with a son barely old enough to hold his own head up.

Haley.

The image of her holding their son gave him the strength to shove the unsub- he didn’t deserve to be named- away. And then the flashlights came into view and he knew he was safe. They had come to get him. He wasn’t alone. The relief was quickly overshadowed by the officer they still had to find, and the confession they still needed. He should have known Gideon would know why he had refused everyone’s offers of help. Why he hadn’t even loosened his tie. The ghost of his father saying he deserved the pain still haunted him.

He hadn’t wanted to finish it. He had wanted to stay as far away from that bastard as he could. But Jason Gideon never asked questions. He phrased demands as questions. So he put back on the Unit Chief mask and said sure. But he knew as soon as he said some that he had messed up. He just hoped nobody else would notice.

The world had never been kind to him.

He didn’t know why he didn’t just walk out without responding. Why he chose to stand there and admit- or as close as he would ever get to admitting- that his father had abused him. That the shards of his words and actions still broke his skin and damaged his heart and filled his lungs with poison that he had to inhale. Maybe it was because he needed to remind himself. He was not his father, and he never would be.

Haley was awake when he got home. He felt bad, she needed all the rest she could get, but she had smiled, and said she loved him. It sounded like a reminder rather than a confession. He had managed to smile, gratefully getting in the bath she had run for him, scrubbing the hands of a murderer off of his skin.

She made love to him that night. Took her time, brushing her lips over every bruise and scar. He had wanted all the lights off, still disgusted by the sight of his father on his body, but she had asked if having the lamp on the dimmest setting was okay, and he had said okay. She said she was so proud of him- was always so proud of him. And she didn’t laugh at the tears that fell after.

He wondered what Jason had said when he phoned, but he never asked.

III

After Reid killed Tobias Hankel, he kept it together. He had to. Because as clever as Spencer thought he was being, everyone knew he was keeping information from them. And Hotch wasn’t going to let him become the next Elle. He wasn’t going to let Gideon convince him everything was fine, because it wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be. Not for a while. Maybe not ever. But that wasn’t the priority. The priority was making sure Reid would be okay at the hospital. Then to get home. Then to give his statement. It wasn’t about making him better. It was about helping him get through each stage.

He didn’t break, because his team already hated him. Reid had called him a narcissist, and whilst he knew what was really being said, he couldn’t help but worry his youngest agent thought it was true. He knew Reid had initially believed what he had said to Phillip Dowd, but they had worked to move on from that. He thought they had. Maybe they hadn’t. Maybe Reid really did think Hotch viewed himself as better than everyone. If only he knew the truth.

Morgan had called him a drill sergeant, but he could handle that. Prentiss saying he trusted men more than women wasn’t hard to understand. He could argue that in her case, it was justified. But JJ calling him a bully without any hesitation had been like a knife to the heart. Worse than that. It had been like a small paper cut on each part of his body, so the pain would never fade. Not properly, because as soon as it stopped in one place, it started in another. He had tried so hard to love all of them. Especially her. She reminded him of Haley. Not because he was attracted to her- he wasn’t, no matter what rumours flew around- but because of her spirit. Her kindness. Her warmth towards everyone. Her willingness to trust. Her ability to be good, despite all she had seen.

Jason had been the only one to not say anything. But Hotch knew he would’ve had something to say. That was why he’d cut them off, started talking about an argument he had forgotten until then.

He didn’t break that night. Or the night after. He pulled away from the team, observing from a distance. He didn’t deserve to cry. Not when it was his fault Reid was struggling with a drug addiction he thought he was hiding. His fault JJ couldn’t even look at dogs without shaking.

It was his fault. He would lock away his need to fall apart until he could look at them without guilt clouding his mind.

Deep down, he knew he would be going back to an empty house after leaving for the case. Still, it was painful to see almost every trace of Haley and Jack gone. It hurt to look around the place they were meant to raise their son together and only see his own clothes and shoes. The plates Haley had picked because they were more fun than the set from her parents. The crib he had assembled before leaving. Jack had migrated to a bed, but they had just never gotten around to getting rid of it. The photos from the case that had ended everything.

He sat on their bed, head in his hands. At some point he started crying. For everything he had done wrong, for everything he was going to still screw up.

And then the phone rang. And Spencer was speaking too quickly for him to understand everything that had happened, but he managed to grasp the most important fact: Gideon was gone. He had left them. With nothing but a letter, addressed to Spencer, that he had left at the now cleared out cabin.

Despite the weariness stamped into his bones, he told Spencer to stay where he was. He drove to pick him up, took him back to his apartment. Said Haley would understand when he started to panic about taking him away from his wife. He rocked Spencer to sleep, singing the same lullabies he heard Haley sing to Jack when he wouldn’t stop shrieking. Noted there were no new marks on his arms and breathed a sigh of relief. He had to stop pulling away from Reid now Gideon was gone.

He couldn’t believe it. Well. He could believe Gideon leaving, always knew the day would come where he would decide he couldn’t do it anymore, and he had thought that day would be when Bale blew up six of their best agents, but when it didn’t happen then, he had dared to hope that it would never happen. He couldn’t believe Gideon had left the way he had. With only a goodbye to Spencer.

And he wanted to be mad at Spencer, because he was there and it would be so easy, but he looked at his sleeping figure, and knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. But he was mad at Gideon for only saying goodbye to Spencer. Because he had been the one to step up and become Unit Chief when Gideon was placed on leave. He had sacrificed his marriage and his life to make sure the team stayed together. Him. Not Morgan, definitely not Reid. Wasn’t he worth saying goodbye to? Had he really meant that little to Gideon?

For the next few weeks, everything served as a reminder. Reid quoting something or other reminded him of a book Gideon had recommended. A smile from a stranger in the street reminded him of Haley. The silence of a too big house reminded him of how he had failed. A comment about fallen agents made him think of Jason and Elle.

He wanted to walk away as well. Beg Strauss for that transfer and go to Haley. Tell her he would do anything, if she would just come home. But his team- the team Gideon had already abandoned- were depending on him. They didn’t hate him now, but they would if he left as well. So he helped JJ with the requests, took interest in the languages Prentiss could speak, offered to listen to each and everyone of Reid’s lectures. He let Morgan take control every once in a while.

And if he became more Hotch than Aaron in doing so, then that was the price he would pay for not being better.

Chester Hardwick was- for lack of a better term- an absolute shit show. Going into a cell with a dangerous serial killer and picking a fight with him had not been the plan. The initial plan had been to get in there, do the interview as quickly as possible, drive back to Quantico in silence- Reid never spoke on the return journey (he had never fully decided if he hated or loved that)- and ignore Haley’s demands for another night.

Then JJ phoned. And he knew she was trying to keep her tone professional, to not pass judgement on his soon-to-be ex-wife, but it was impossible to miss. Haley had clearly made it into a big deal that he hadn’t answered her calls. It angered him. He didn’t want to give up his son, or only be able to see him on the weekends because it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t guarantee he would even be available on the weekends, but he could guarantee to be there after a case.

Haley didn’t want to accept that. She didn’t want to amend the custody agreement. He didn’t want to go to court and have his faults brandished, but he didn’t want to back down. Which meant they were stuck. And she knew he would eventually be forced to give in and lose.

Again.

He told himself he needed to keep it together. He wouldn’t shout at Reid, not when he was still recovering from Hankel, from Gideon, from all the other bad things that had happened to him since then. And if he was being completely honest, he probably couldn’t shout at Reid, even if he needed to. For although he knew Spencer wasn’t the same innocent, uncoordinated mess that had joined his unit five years ago, he was still so good and kind. Hotch wouldn’t take that from him by shouting because he was frustrated at himself.

Instead, he provoked a dangerous serial killer. That had been one of the few things Haley had never gotten wrong about him: he never did things half-heartedly.

So instead of asking questions to help understand why Hardwick had killed all those women, he shrugged his jacket off, loosened his tie (the memory of cold metal pressed against his neck still woke him even now) and raised his hands on a man who could very easily take any of the things in the room and kill him.

It was stupid. It was reckless. It was the kind of behaviour his father would beat him for, that Haley would shout at him for, and that Rossi would probably give him a round of applause and a drink.

But he was so angry at everything and everyone and he needed to relieve the tension but he couldn’t do it by going down the firing range and shooting a gun because it wasn’t the same. Maybe he was exactly like his father in that respect. Maybe it was the first step into becoming the monster he always knew he would be. It was unfair to say all abused children became abusers. It was fair to say profilers were just unsubs on the right side of the law. Sure, they did the right thing, but at the end of the day, they knew how serial killers and child abducters worked. Crossing the line wouldn’t be hard for any of them.

He raised his fists at a serial killer because he needed to feel something under them. He needed to release the anger and sadness and guilt that flowed beneath his veins. Needed to see the blood on his fists from punching something too hard as a reminder he was human. And he knew that wasn’t healthy, but it was the truth.

Something he had never been good with.

It was stupid. And he should have- could have, very easily- died.

But of course Reid saved him. Dr Spencer Reid, who was always rattling off statistics nobody understood, who had almost been sick at his first crime scene, who had teared up during his first solo interrogation, saved him. By playing to his strengths. He went on and on about the effects of abuse on a child, about the psychology behind finding release in murder, about what made someone into a serial killer.

He kept his audience of one captive for so long that the guards came and unlocked the door without Hardwick ever laying a hand on either of them. He managed to talk a serial killer out of murdering two federal agents. Hotch felt so proud. And disgusted with himself. Reid had talked long enough for the anger to evaporate into thin air and the shame to rain down on him like a storm.

What had he done? It wasn’t falling apart, because he knew what it was like when he fell apart, and that wasn’t it, but it was horrifying. Humiliating. He had put himself and his own issues above Reid’s safety.

He was every bit the narcissist Reid had once described him as being. The thought made him sick. Today it had been a serial killer, but how long before it became his team? Before it became his son?

He felt sick. But he forced himself to get behind the wheel, rejecting Reid’s offer to take over the driving for a little bit. He knew Reid hated driving. But when they had been on the road for a good twenty minutes, and the younger agent still hadn’t said anything about the journey back, or the sky, or the cars around them, he knew he had screwed up.

Scratch that. He had fucked up.

Which was why he told Reid the truth. He hated speaking about his personal life, had always struggled with being open with others, especially the people he worked with because he was the Unit Chief and that meant he was supposed to be there as a strong presence that couldn’t be harmed, but Reid deserved to know why Hotch had been so willing to try and get himself killed.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have endangered you like that. It was wrong, and if you want to say something to Rossi or Strauss, I won’t stop you,” he said, after his confession that he couldn’t get what he wanted.

“I won’t say anything Hotch. You would never purposely disregard my safety. Even if you put yourself at risk, any harm that happened to me wouldn’t be deliberate. I know you kick better than a nine year old girl, and that you were holding back with Dowd because you didn’t want to hurt me too badly. And you didn’t,” Reid replied.

His throat went dry. “Hurt you too badly? As in, I did hurt you?”

The sudden fear he radiated made Reid pause. A bad move. Hotch was a damn good profiler, and whilst he always tried to follow the no inter-team profiling rule, some things were just too obvious to miss.

“I need to pull over,” he said.

Reid nodded, face pale and terrified. Luckily, he didn’t follow when he got out the car. And when he returned, Reid handed him a bottle of water and a mint.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he had whispered after Hotch had begrudgingly taken both.

“I hurt you,” Hotch replied. There was no point in trying to be the Unit Chief now. Reid had dismantled his shields by accident, and no suit or back-up weapon could prevent Aaron emerging and taking over from SSA Hotchner.

“But it wasn’t intentional then, and it wasn’t intentional with Hardwick. And you would never hurt Jack. Not in the way you think you may. I’m not saying you’re never going to make a mistake, you will, but you won’t hurt him the way your father did. You’re too good of a person to do it. I saw you holding Jack. The love in your eyes couldn’t be faked. And the way you rocked me to sleep after Gideon left was gentle and kind. You made a mistake with Hardwick. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. Not with us.”

Hotch stared at him. “I- how do you know about my father?” he asked, defences rising. The only members of the team who had known were Gideon who never followed the rules, and Dave, who had always had a soft spot for him.

Spencer flushed. “I didn’t profile you. We shared a room that one time, and the door to the bathroom wasn’t closed properly so I saw the scars. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking.”

“It’s okay,” he said, because it had to be.

The younger man didn’t seem convinced.

“Spencer.” The use of first names always drove points home. “It’s fine. I suppose everyone was going to work it out at one point or another. Thank you for not bringing it up then.”

When they pulled into the car park at Quantico, Reid did something very unexpected. He hugged Hotch. For a moment, he stood there, frozen because it had been so long since someone had done more than shake his hand that a hug felt so foreign, but then he regained control of his body and he bought his arms up and around him.

“Thank you Spencer,” he said.

“You once said to JJ that it’s okay if you lose it every once in a while. That it reminds us that we’re human. I think you should take your own advice.”

He nodded. But he didn’t.

He signed his divorce papers without contest. Haley was right: Jack deserved better than a father who could never confirm whether or not he would be there. He deserved better than a father who woke up in the middle of the night, and he definitely deserved better than a man who’s biggest fear was not that someone else would hurt their child, but that they would be the one to hurt them.

He signed the papers.

And then he got spectacularly drunk.

He used to love New York. He had never worked there, but one of the few holidays he’d had with Haley that hadn’t been cut short was spent in New York. They’d never had a case there, which was why they were both so eager to go.

It had been so nice, to be in a city, and not remember an unsub who tortured women then left their bodies in ditches, or who had preyed on vulnerable children and then manipulated them into joining their twisted cults.

He had loved New York.

And then Kate Joyner had died.

He wasn’t stupid, and his hearing wasn’t damaged when they first arrived. He heard JJ’s remark about her appearance and the tone in Emily’s voice when she had repeated his earlier statement that they had liased together.

It embarrassed him. If he had heard, then Kate definitely knew what they were saying. Not only did she have better hearing than he did, she was also pretty good at reading lips- a skill Hotch had learnt in SWAT and taught her for fun. And she had been staring at them, not him, when they spoke. It wasn’t going to be difficult for her to fill in the gaps.

They hadn’t slept together. He had been happily married at that time, still affectionately calling Haley at every opportunity. And she hadn’t been interested in him like that. They had just been friends that worked well together. He had found it easy to open up to her, and she had liked him because his Southern upbringing meant he was nothing but a gentleman to her.

Then they were both blown up, only he walked away with nothing but a ringing ear and a breaking heart. She would never do anything ever again, and it was all his fault. Everyone he cared about either left or died- his mother, Haley, Kate and Sean.

“Look man, I’m not going to pretend you’re fine because I’ve called your name twice and you haven’t even raised an eyebrow so you’re going to pull over and I’m going to drive,” Morgan shouted.

Hotch slammed the brake far too hard, and turned, glowering at his subordinate. “I could’ve crashed the car then. You don’t need to yell.”

“Yes, I do. What is going on with your ear?”

“It’s nothing.”

Morgan looked at him, the disbelief clear, but eventually rolled his eyes and turned to stare out the window. Hotch took the hint and started driving.

When they got back to Quantico, Rossi was tucked away in his office, and when Hotch looked through the paperwork he needed to fill in, he found half of it missing. JJ had left a note with her file saying she had moved his meeting with Strauss to next week. Garcia had left a batch of chocolate cupcakes with one of her many soft toys. Prentiss had already written her report, with no evidence of Reid’s input. Morgan appeared with his not too long after they returned. Reid offered to take the consults he had to do before he went home to an empty apartment.

He accepted, the impossible smile making an appearance.

His team- no, his family- were always going to be there. He realised then that he could depend on them. That they wanted him to depend on him. Because they could all trust him with their lives, and everything they had done since landing had been to show him that they understood. That he wasn’t alone.

His joy lasted till the door to his apartment swung open, and he was greeted with the impersonal furniture, boxes he hadn’t had the time to unpack. The absence of a smiling blonde and excited little boy pretending to be a superhero.

Instead of breaking, he pulled out a file about a case involving missing women. They had all been pregnant, unmarried and blonde. He hadn’t wanted JJ to see it. So he worked on a profile late into the night, only putting the file away when he was pleased the police would be able to find the unsub.

He couldn’t protect his team from a lot, but this. This he could do. It was better than them realising he wasn’t worth baking for, wasn’t worth their attempts of comfort and walked away.

Haley was dead. She had been killed in the home they were supposed to raise their son in together, all because he had wanted to be a hero and refused to take the deal. The deal she had never found out about and would never find out about because Foyet had murdered her. It was stupid, but Hotch wondered what would have happened if he had taken the transfer. It wouldn’t have been this.

Foyet was dead. He had killed a man with nothing but his bare hands. He was worse than his father. He had killed a man who said they had surrendered because he was angry. And he knew Foyet would have never surrendered. He would’ve waited for Hotch to move away and then killed him, found Jack and made good on his promise. He knew that, logically, there was no other option.

It didn’t make him feel any less like a monster. That was part of the reason why he had sent Jack away as soon as possible. He didn’t want his son to see him covered in blood long enough for it to become a proper memory. Didn’t want his son to see it and start asking if his daddy had been hurt by a bad guy because he didn’t want to explain that this time, daddy had been the one to hurt the bad guy. He had hurt him so badly that he was never coming back.

And neither was mommy.

The only real parent Jack had ever had was gone, and he didn’t know what to do. He had never prepared himself to have the conversation about death with Jack. It was morbid, but he had always assumed Haley would be the one explaining that sometimes bad things happen to good people, and because of that, dad wasn’t going to be coming home anymore, because he was going to go to heaven instead.

He’d never been particularly religious. But he wished he was. At least then he could believe himself when he finally told Jack that mommy had gone to heaven like some of the other kids’ grandparents.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he ever thought having kids was a good idea. He hadn’t wanted them at first. He hadn’t wanted to bring a child into the world when so many people were evil and malicious. Hadn’t wanted to put anyone else at risk of becoming the object of his anger. He didn’t want to repeat the actions of his father and become the monster in the closet he had always been terrified of.

Then he had met Haley, and she reminded him of the stars. For she brightened even the darkest moments, and he just knew that no matter what he became, if she had his children, they would shine like the brightest star, and they would never become irreparably damaged by his own paranoia and fear because she would be there for them.

Now she was gone. And it was all his fault.

But he managed to keep it together at work for his team, and at home for his son.

Jessica had been a lifesaver, taking Jack out when Hotch needed a break, staying with them until Jack had settled into the apartment properly. She even dug up old albums and gave them to Hotch, saying that he deserved to have them. The two of them had grown closer, and he was happy for that, but he just wished it hadn’t taken the death of Haley to let them bond. Jack had nightmares about a loud bang, and sometimes he would wake up crying for his mother, but Hotch had already started looking into therapists for children, and he also sat with Jack, stroking his hair and reading him stories till he fell asleep.

He never told Jack he too had nightmares about lots of things, and sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night, terrified and wanting someone there to comfort him. Both Jessica and the bureau psychologist he was forced to see had told him to, but there was something- pride mainly- that prevented him from ever admitting to his son that he wasn’t okay.

At work, he compartmentalized as much as was humanly possible. The team were doing their best to cope, and he knew the only reason he’d been offered the option to take his retirement package or return, as opposed to being fired without any benefits, was because of the accounts they had given Strauss. Accounts that framed him as a man desperate to bring a killer to justice and protect his son, as opposed to a man who had become obsessed with one particular case that had hindered his ability to do his job.

He never said thank you, because he knew they wouldn’t understand. In their eyes, he had been heroic. He had done what any of them would have. But Hotch knew he hadn’t. He knew his team. They were better people than he was, and they would never have killed a man who had surrendered, no matter how bad their crimes had been.

So although he wasn’t okay, he kept it together. He kept it together for as long as he could, and he ignored his own broken heart, ignored the constant replay of the final conversation he’d ever had with Haley and the sound of gunshots ringing out. He ignored the nightmares and the memories, the sick feeling that overwhelmed him every time he remembered that Foyet had won by destroying him and then moulding him into the person he’d sworn not to become.

He stayed strong because he had to be. But it was becoming harder everyday as the threads that held him together frayed with every scream from his son’s bedroom, every sympathetic smile Strauss gave him in meetings, every hand Jessica placed on his shoulder, every file his team tried to hide from him and pass to Rossi to sign off on instead.

It was three months after that the thread finally snapped clean in half. He had thought he was getting better. Jack certainly was. His twice-weekly trips to the therapist were proving to be beneficial as he was sleeping through the night more often and finding it easier to talk about his mom, even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on. Jessica had gone back to work and was slowly moving through her own grief as she tried to honour the memory of her sister by sharing her memories with her son and ex-husband.

Aaron thought he was doing the same, but maybe repressing and coping had become the same in his mind.

It was late, but Jack had gone to see his grandparents with Jessica and he didn’t fancy going home- not when the rest of his team were still there- so he got a coffee, ignored their concerned faces and started working on a consult he hadn’t got round to the previous day.

He dropped his mug the moment he opened the case file and saw who the victims were.

All blonde women. All divorcees. All of them had been the ones that filed, and all of them had filed because they felt neglected. All of them had been awarded custody of the child, without a court hearing. The police were stuck because they couldn’t find anyone in the local area who had been married to a blonde woman and had one young child.

The sight of their bodies, mutilated and bloody, made him sick. The images blurred as he tried to blink away tears. Next to the photos of their dead bodies were the pictures of their faces, genuine smiles and sparkling eyes, blissfully unaware of the evil that was about to happen.

He didn’t hear the mug shatter into nothing as hot coffee went all over the wooden flooring. All he heard was a gunshot, then another and then a third, and Foyet taunting him, saying he would find Jack and show him the bodies of his dead parents. Maybe he screamed, maybe he couldn’t make a sound, but he couldn’t see anything properly as tears streamed down his face and made everything unfocused and fuzzy.

“-you hear me?” someone asked.

He blinked. Why was he on the floor? What had happened? He looked down, saw his knees pulled to his chest, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“What?” he managed to say, voice hoarse.

“What’s wrong?” Rossi asked, kneeling beside him.

He looked up, saw Spencer and JJ in the room, Emily and Morgan in the doorway, and Garcia behind them.

“Nothing,” he lied. He was supposed their leader, the mom of the team- he had grown to accept that title. He couldn’t fall apart in front of them. “You’re going to hurt your knees if you sit like that for much longer.”

Rossi cursed in Italian. “Kiddo, I don’t care. I want to know what’s going on with you. You’ve been pretending to be strong for these past few months, and we know how much you hate anyone interfering with your personal life, but if you’re hurting, you need to let me help.”

“It’s nothing,” he repeated.

JJ picked up the file, opened it without a word. “Oh, Hotch. Why didn’t you let one of the others deal with it?”

There was such sadness in her eyes, he couldn’t look at them. “Because I can handle it.”

The sound of Reid’s cane coming closer gave him something else to focus on. “Hey Hotch,” he greeted gently. “Do you want to know something? After Hankel, I found it almost impossible to deal with consults involving someone who was using drugs, either on themselves or the victims. I had to try and pass the files off to Morgan and Prentiss. I can do them now, but it still hurts. So it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he said. “It’s not because it’s my fault she’s dead. If I hadn’t rejected the deal, all those people on the bus would still be alive, Haley would be here and Jack would have a real parent, who could be there and comfort him, instead of a failure of a father who can’t guarantee to keep him safe and who wakes up shouting in the middle of the night.” He didn’t know why he suddenly opened up, but Reid just had that effect on people sometimes.

Reid blanched. Rossi pulled away, shock all over his face. Garcia pushed her way into the room, heels louder than Reid’s cane and threw her arms around Hotch in a tight hug. He felt the sleeve of his shirt start to get wet, and it was only then that he realised Garcia was crying.

“It is not your fault that Haley died. It is Foyet’s. He killed her, and you had no control over his actions. You did the right thing by not taking the deal, and don’t you ever think otherwise. You are a real parent. You’re a parent to almost everyone on this team, and you’re a wonderful father to Jack. Stop beating yourself up. You’ll never be able to protect him from everything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not good. You are the best man I know, and I know some pretty great people. So dry those eyes, and let us help you,” she said, determined.

He stared at her for a few moments.

“Sir,” she added hesitantly.

“Do you honestly believe that?” he asked, more tears threatening to spill.

Garcia nodded.

Morgan crept closer. “I know what it’s like to grow up with a dad. And Jack will never have to go through that, because even if you’re not there in person, you’re there emotionally. He won’t remember missed soccer games or forgotten parent-teacher conferences. He’ll remember how you read to him, how you always listened.”

“My father turned up to everything I ever did. But it never felt like he cared. It felt like he was just trying to keep my mother happy. When you go to Jack’s things, he knows you’re there because you love him, and that is all any child wants,” Emily added.

“You’re more of a father than my own dad ever was,” Reid declared.

“Hotch, you were the one that taught me that this job doesn’t have to take everything away from us. That we can still form meaningful relationships with others. You never doubt my choices, you just make sure I’m able to back them up, and you’re the reason I don’t go home fretting about whether or not I made the right call,” JJ said, tucking the file away.

“Aaron, I never got to meet my son. But every time I see you smile, every time I see you handcuff another unsub, or speak to a victim, I am reminded that family is not just blood. You’ve been strong for far too long. Let yourself fall and trust us to catch you,” Rossi finally spoke.

“I just couldn’t believe she was gone. And then I saw the photos, and I realised it must have been like that for someone else when she died and it finally hit me and I just couldn’t, but I thought I was moving on and-“ he couldn’t speak, the words not able to push past the lump in his throat as the emotions finally overwhelmed him and the soft cries became mournful sobs that eventually calmed into sniffles.

Rossi and Garcia never stopped hugging him. Reid kept his hand on his shoulder. JJ smoothed his hair, singing the same lullabies that Henry heard every night before he slept. Morgan and Prentiss stood to the side, having locked the door and closed the blinds.

Once he had enough awareness to realise what he had done, he tensed and waited for the hit. It never came. What came instead was a series of encouraging smiles, the option to talk, or just sit in silence. The promise to never leave. To always be there when he needed them.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re our family Hotch. We’re not going to let you suffer,” Morgan said.

Everyone nodded.

It wasn’t easy, falling apart. Especially not in front of your colleagues. But Morgan was right, they were a family. So Hotch finally let himself fall, finally let himself feel all the grief he had been burying for so long, and for once in his life, he let someone else catch him. He let them in. He accepted their support, however long it took for him to actually do so was irrelevant. He let himself cry, and he let his family dry his tears.

They wouldn’t leave him. Not now. Not ever.

But soon, he would be saying goodbye to JJ, wondering how they were going to survive without her. He would be faking Emily’s death, then fleeing because he was a coward who couldn’t bear to see their grief-stricken faces. He would be forced to confront his own actions, reveal the deadly secret that had been slowly killing him. He would damage the trust that had taken so long to build, damage the friendship he had with Morgan, potentially ruin the friendship between Reid and JJ.

He would be crying himself to sleep. Having nightmares that stopped him from doing that for more than a few moments.

And then Garcia would find him rocking himself in his office, whispering I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, to himself. She would drop her request for advanced technology, and once again wrap her arms around him. She would tell him that he did the right thing, that in time, everyone would forgive him, would trust him again. He would look at her, and her heart would break, because her boss should never look that pale and broken, and ask if she was sure.

She wouldn’t be able to answer for a moment. And then she would say she forgives him. And that it was okay.

The next day, Morgan would ask him to check a file. Reid would tell him about the stars. Garcia would bring him a slice of pie. Rossi wouldn’t make any comments that undermined his authority or showed a lack of trust. Prentiss would call him Hotch again, instead of sir. He would invite them for dinner, and they would all accept.

He would confess that keeping the secret had broken him, and they would all forgive him. He would finally let himself cry, let them put him back together. And they would decide to have a very dodgy sleepover- Garcia’s suggestion- because Jack wanted to see Henry, and who could ever say no to his requests.

And that night, Spencer Reid would phone his sponsor, not because he was scared of using, but because he didn’t want to.

Jennifer Jareau would snuggle up to William LaMontagne Jr instead of pulling away from him like she had the past few months.

Derek Morgan would not blame himself for everything that had gone wrong that day.

David Rossi would not curse the God he believed in, he would thank Him for bringing Emily back safely, and for granting Aaron peace.

Emily Prentiss would sleep without a knot in her stomach, for she would finally be sure her family would be okay.

And Aaron Hotchner would watch his family with a smile, before he finally fell asleep as well, not a single tear needed to exhaust himself. He would be a little more whole, once again sure the people around him did truly love him. And he would remember his wife, just before he fell asleep, and it wouldn’t hurt, because he was happy.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hurt hotch #sad hotch #dear lord why am i doing this #tw child abuse #sumayyah writes cm

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

Would we ever see a sequel to ‘the trophy room’?🥺👉👈

Aaah I can’t believe you even remembered that one! I hardly even remember it. I actually wrote that whole thing at about 3 AM after waking up from a dream about it (which probably explains why the whole story is a little bit nonsensical.)

Additionally, the first part (which you can find here) makes... somewhat little sense. So, I’ll provide a brief summary below.

The story begins with a reckless Hero, an independent spying mission having gone wrong and leaving them in the hands of Hibou, an owl-themed villain, and their friends. The villains decide that, instead of killing Hero outright, they will test a newly-created biopoison upon them, serving as a warning to the rest of the Heroes’ Organization. Despite their ability to heal their Teammate of a battle wound, Hero is unable to cure themself on their own affliction. The story ended with Hero being called to aid an imprisoned Villain, who had spent months displayed as a trophy in the Headquarters (thus, the name The Trophy Room.) With Hero breaking into the unresponsive Villain’s glass containment, the story ended.

This is really weird and sloppy so I hope it’s worth a read. Sorry about that. It is... Still 3am.

Without further ado, here we go!

CW//Medical setting, medical equipment, necrosis, fear of death, organs mention, poison

In desperation, Hero pushed forward the green.

It was a physical feeling, blood in their veins forced outward, spilling and dribbling and green. Certainly, most could not feel their own life force, flowing in its fleshy pipes-- but Hero was not most people.

And, neither, so it seemed, was Villain. Their pale skin was pulled taut upon their wrist, slow heartbeat barely pushing the blood that it needed. Hero felt the terribly weak pulse, thrumming away beneath their thumb.

More green.

The underside of their hand, palm and fingers, shimmered with the hue. It was with all their might that the hero forced it forwards, and yet, the villain’s blood refused to take the offering.

“Come on, come on...” They hissed, though it was barely audible. Drowned out by the world around. The beeping.

The terrible beeping, all-encompassing, so it seemed to be. Healer or not, they had not the slightest clue what a single one of the hospital’s room scattered monitors represented with their barks and dancing lines. Sterile as the chamber was, however, it was far from neat. Machines sat scattered and crooked, wrappers littering the floor.

It was all so terribly lacking. Not a single needle had pierced Villain’s arms, not an IV inserted. Nothing.

The doctors were too afraid. Even getting them into the room had been like herding cats. Glancing away for a split second was a surefire recipe for at least one of them to flee, glancing in from the hallway, shivering.

After Villain had gone unresponsive, after the last straw had finally broken, it was Hero who had freed them from their chairs, carried them to the infirmary. Taken them to their room. Laid them upon the bed. The doctors hadn’t so much as wanted to cross the threshhold of the doorway.

No medicine. No help. Only the green.

“Come on, buddy. You need to get up.” It was a plea as much as it was a whisper.

Hero tightened their grip upon the pale wrist, thumbing pressing upon the artery. They feared that, if they held on any harder, the joint would snap like the bones of a chicken.

More green. The hero gritted their teeth, eyes closing, all focus turning to the green. The flooding power in their veins. The current gathered in their hand, their fingers, the very tips, but would go no further.

They were a healer. Healing was easy. A transfer of life, a transfer of force, from one body to another. That was the caveat, though. There was an implication to medicine-- turning disease to ease, pain to comfort.

That only worked when there was disease to cure. When there was pain to soothe. When there was life to give.

“Come on!”

Another push.

A tiny drop, pushed through. Forced into the meek wrist the hero held so desperately.

Villain gasped.

Another! More of the green, pushing its way in. Not steadily, not a flood, quite far from either, in fact. A drop at a time. The slightest dribblance.

But, weak or not, another shuddering breath coursed through the slumbering villain’s chest.

“Alive!” The confused, stuttering word lurched from Hero’s throat. “They’re alive! Come here, come on, I need help, here!”

From beyond the door, even without turning, they could hear the doctors and their nervous chattering, shallow, shuddering breathing.

“Come on!” They turned, just a moment. Not taking a moment to break from the green. “Who in the world is in charge here?!”

The chattering grew louder. From the crowd of white, a single coat moved forth, hands thumbing and fidgeting before their body. They made it perhaps five steps within the room--ten steps away from the bed.

Villain coughed.

“It’s not safe.” The doctor insisted, a hissing, whispering tone overtaking any form of clinical voice. “Not without the hazmat suits. And even then...”

The burning, broiling within Hero’s chest could only partially be attributed to fury. The green was not alone, within their veins. The poison was seated deep, for now. In their shoulder. Remaining bound by their clavicle. They hissed-- there were more issues to attend to.

“Do they look dangerous to you!”

“Yes!”

Hero blinked, gesturing with a wide hand to the unconscious body upon the hospital bed, as pale as the sheets. The grey prisoner’s uniform draped over their thin frame-- perhaps it had once fit properly-- had far more color to it than their face, their twitching eyelids.

The only ounce of strength that could be seen upon the half-corpse was within the neck-- muscles grown ever so gradually by the unbearable weight of iron chains, taut and useless. The rest of them was withered, withered to bone.

The hero looked back.

“What in the world are they going to do? In this state?! Are you kidding me?!”

“They can kill with a touch!”

“Do they look in a state to touch anything?”

“You’re putting your life at risk!”

“Tell me, then. Explain to me-” The poison decided that, at that moment, it was a perfect, peaceful time to spread its hold. Infernous roots made their way up Hero’s neck. “Explain to me exactly why I shouldn’t be helping them.”

“They have powers.”

“Yes! I know! I’m not a bloody idiot!”

“The opposite of yours.” The doctor seemed nearly breathless, pupils turned to pinpricks, as though their imagination believed a knife to be placed upon their throat. “With a touch, they kill. It’s targeted. Targeted, instant necrosis. If they like you, they’ll take your heart. If they don’t, they’ll take everything else, and see how long you make it.”

Hero gritted their teeth. The agony extended to their ear.

“Well, then.” They turned. “I sure hope they like me.”

“They won’t.”

“Maybe they just don’t like you.”

“Maybe.”

“Then leave.” The hero returned their choking grip to Villain’s wrist. “If you aren’t going to help, leave!”

“I took an oath. I can’t let you die.”

“Well, I didn’t. I’m saving them.”

Hero had no need to turn, not to see the shivering expression upon the doctor’s countenance. To see them back away. Close the door.

Abandon the Hippocratic Oath in favor of cowardice.

More green slipped through. Another gasp, another shudder. The hero narrowed their eyes, gaze focused upon the shivering eyelids of their patient. Their patient. If they had to play doctor, so be it.

Another drop. Villain coughed.

More.

More green.

The most dangerous person in the city opened their eyes. The pulse beneath Hero’s thumb quickened, steadied. Livened.

“Hey.” The hero smiled. A weak thing-- life force could only be traded, after all. Not created.

The poison crept further.

“You’re in the hospital. You’re sick.” Only the words of a child agreed to come to their mind.

“So are you.”

The poison reached Hero’s brain.

#villain whumpee #whumpblr #the trophy room #whump community #whump #hero caretaker

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feelitstillmp3 · 3 years

Text

i was going to dump this into @time-and-space‘s inbox, but then it spiraled out of control and became super long. so im making it into a post. heres some thinking abt doctor who/torchwood/class/merlin parallels ! (specifically abt the parallels between tenrose/janto/charlie x matteusz/merthur) (keep in mind that my knowledge on merlin is not so good) (also feel free to correct me if im wrong or add anything on) (also this contains spoilers for ... all the shows. pls watch them, theyre good)

ive been thinking about the whole theme between charlie and matteusz where theyre like ?? scared to lose each other ?? and how it totally parallels to the other things like .... we have one character whos different and immortal and alien (not to mention the trauma they've been through-), but another who is supposedly "normal" and human. so, they work with it right ?

but then theres the ever-present danger of what they have to go through daily, and the fear that its going to leave them alone. i mean, they've already been left alone, but now that they've actually fallen in love, its different. its harder now.

consider the following lines:

"i think of it every day, and the only thing that stops me is you." (class, e6)

"i take it all back, but not him!"(torchwood, s3e4) (theres probably a better quote but no think, head empty)

"i could save everyone, but lose you." (doctor who, uhhh idk but i swear the doctor said something like it at some point, pls correct me if im wrong)

and yes, theyve felt this before, the pain of their entire race being wiped out, no one left but them, and everyone seems to leave them in the end. but for one second, they stop and actually think they have a chance for a while. someone who might stay.

ALSO it works as like .... the normal person is scared of the other, scared of what they can do and how they are ....

consider the following lines:

"im afraid of who you are, of what you're capable of, of what you will do" (class e6)

"you like to think you're a hero, but you're the biggest monster of all." (s1e4)

"what about you, doctor? what the hell are you changing into?" (doctor who, s1e6)

the person who has been through so much is capable of doing so many things, and sometimes it scares the other one. but they witnessed genocide ! and theyre probably traumatized over it ! theyve probably done some terrible shit as a result of it ! both of them are so valid in being that way.

and another parallel i have just thought of, mentioned a lot already, but the recurring theme of killing off an entire race and how that affected the alien character ....

consider the following situations:

doctor who - the time war, in which the doctor participated, and eventually ended. // when 9 was planning to kill off the last of the daleks in the parting of ways, hesitating for a bit, knowing that it would end up destroying earth in the process, making them no better than what the daleks are

torchwood - jack's planet and how it got invaded, how his parents died as a result and why his brother did everything that happened in exit wounds. // ummm i think maybe how willingly jack was able to give the girl up to the fairies to save the human race, like hes seen what the fairies are capable of, hes seen what disasters mass murder can bring. he doesnt want to see it again.

class - well, the shadowkin invasion, both on rhodia and when it happens on earth (both times) but also the invasion with the flowers ? // how much he really wants to just kill the shadowkin like ! he even mentioned it once ("i want to murder the shadowkin. every last one ...." e6) and he just wants to do it out of revenge. but “we shouldnt avenge genocide with genocide” (we're not going to talk abt how the only thing stopping him is that he would lose matteusz in the process)

but yeah ! theyve seen first hand what it like, and when prompted to do the same thing themselves, they end up hesitating, eventually choosing the other option instead. (well... except charlie. he does it once at least.)

and finally, immortality. this ties in a lot w my first point abt losing the other person .....

doctor who - pretty easy to think about, the doctor has had so many companions over the years, and each time they end up leaving them. even after he meets rose, who wished to stay together forever ("how long are you gonna stay with me?" "forever.") but then she ends up leaving, the doctor is left to continue on for so much longer ..

torchwood - pretty same as above, jack never commits himself to a relationship, he knows everyone will leave him anyway. but then he meets ianto jones. and it all changes, he falls in love, which he said he would never do, and thats why he doesnt ever say "i love you," because once he says it then he cant deny it any longer. once he says it than he will have to admit that ianto, someone that he does love, is lost to him.

class - ok, charlie isnt technically immortal from what i know, but i am assuming he probably has a longer lifespan than humans (basing this off this line - "you want to know who would be the last one standing out of the five of us? i would." e6) so ! its mentioned a lot (and is the main theme, as i said earlier) that matteusz and charlie dont want to lose each other. i want to specifically point out the line “every day i think, please dont go where i cant follow.” (e8) because it just so implies that charlie is different. he can go places, live longer than matteusz ever can.

going to add this onto the end here, but i just thought that actually merlin kinda fits into this too !

loss - the loss of his father, of his one childhood friend (will?), the knights of the round table (pretty sure a lot of them die too, correct me if im wrong) and even arthur who leaves in the end. everyone around him just seems to leave or turn bad

fear - we all know merlin is powerful, right ? i mean i swear it says somewhere hes like ... the greatest sorcerer to ever live or smth. and yes, arthur doesnt technically fear him, but if we think about what would have happened if merlin revealed his magic earlier, when camelot was still under the rule of uther and arthur was still scared of ppl w magic .... idk abt this one ndjnsjd it works in my head okay

trauma - had to get some help from @a-confused-contradictory-mess here and she brought up some good points ! when he was younger, because of his magic, he never really fit in. his mother made him hide, because she feared what would happen if he found out. (i ... think?) imagine what that does to someone, having to hide something about yourself for so long.

immortality - after everyone leaves around him, theres kinda no escape. he has to live with it for all the years that his immortal life goes by. this ties in a lot w how jack and the doctor feel, with everyone around them making them left all alone.

tldr: losing the one person they always thought would stay, one being scared of the other's power, the trauma affecting one of them, immortality and the price that comes w it are all some really good parallels between these ships/shows and genuinely kill me inside

#no good content only incoherent ramblings #none of this makes sense !#i am fully aware #doctor who #torchwood #bbc class #merlin #yes theres probably only a few ppl out there who have watched all 4 shows but i am posting this anyway #it took me three hours #and for what #i am probably going to end up making a gifset of this .... we'll see

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warmau · 4 years

Text

painter!au jihoon

*this post was commissioned | based very lightly off seventeen - fallin’ flowers tw: break up mention/general angst

“something in your gentleness entraps him you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but could you do that for him too?”

you had thought jihoon was going to marry them

so standing in the middle of his studio with the remnants of their relationship, a broken vase of lilies in the corner, his undone portrait of them dripping down with the streaks of paint he’d thrown at the canvas in a fit of confusion and pain

feels .......... wrong

as if you were the one who was broken up with, and not jihoon who is on his knees a couple of feet away

hands stained in watercolors, eyes blank and burrowing

you reach for the wilting lilies first, you’ve known jihoon long enough to be aware of the fact that trying to use words to comfort him right now won’t work

so you silently begin to clean up, plucking items that belong to his ex and placing them out of sight

you take the ruined canvas with half their face sketched out and turn it over

jihoon doesn’t move from his spot as you work - doesn’t say anything - doesn’t even look at you

when you’re done you finally kneel down beside him, bring the hot wet towel to his hands and start to scrub the dry paint from his palms

you try to be gently but jihoon finally speaks

“harder, you have to scrub harder if you want to get rid of them.”

you can’t tell if he’s talking about the paint or of the memories that must be flooding into him

you had remembered how happy he had looked, being in love, being with someone who seemed to understand him

now he was empty and you were scared of what could happen if he was left like this alone

you don’t argue, you scrub harder and finally you get some of the colors off his skin

there’s still smudges thought, the same way there will still be those pieces of his ex scarred across him

time heals everything - you want to say that, but its too early to start preaching

instead you tell jihoon he should go to bed now, you’ll take care of the rest of the cleaning up and put his art supplies away

he gives a vague sort of look toward the bedroom and then back at you

“i broke the vase, the one with the lilies.”

“it’s ok, ive already cleaned-”

“i should go buy fresh ones.”

his eyes glaze over, he gets up and you scramble to your feet in the process

you put a hand on his chest to stop him and jihoon stares at you, but you can tell he isnt focused

“ill buy them, please jihoon. go to bed.”

somehow you manage to get him to turn around

and you are standing now in the doorway to his apartment, with a trash bag full of his exes things and the pathetic looking lilies

you had bought them as a gift when you’d come over to celebrate jihoon’s successful art show

his ex had put them into a vase and gushed over how pretty they looked - jihoon had never been one to be so romantic, but he had said that they looked almost as pretty as his ex did

you had watched them be so loving toward each other just days ago

but now it was all gone and part of you is angry at both of them

at jihoon’s ex for leaving him, out of the blue and with no real reason but the excuse of having “outgrown” him

and at jihoon for calling you after it had happened

but that anger toward him is really just a cover for something else

the hollowing pit in your stomach that has always been there since you met jihoon in college.

the pit you’ve covered with years of support for him and his relationships and his art

the pit, in which sits the actual emotion you’ve been hiding from the world

if you had picked me, i would have never hurt you like this

the thought is cruel and you tell yourself never to think such a thing like that again

but its there, it will always be there, because you love jihoon

not that you ever plan to let that truth come to the surface......

the next morning, you stop by the florist to pick up the lilies you promised you’d buy

you look at them, watching as one of the petals sags to the side, threatening to fall

you dont know what it is about lilies in particular - they bloom so big and beautiful that they often steal the attention in a garden

they’re quite the opposite of you

who has always found yourself more of a queen anne’s lace, playing a side role in the main stories of all your friends

but you adore them above all other flowers, touching the petal made of velvet and suddenly remembering that you had seen lilies when you first met jihoon

you had taken art in college as an extra credit class

you weren’t at all any good, but it was enjoyable to take a course that didnt demand much from you but creativity

one of the first assignments had been still life: drawing baskets of fruit, books on tables, flowers in vases

you had ended up with a vase with one purple lily in it.

the only other person who had also chose it was jihoon

you didn’t know his name back then

just that he was so beautiful, like he had been drawn himself and came to life off the page

his eyes like umber, russet sunsets - his mouth slightly parted in concentration as he let his pencil flow across his canvas

you had trouble focusing on the flower, which is probably half the reason it came out terribly

but it had also allowed jihoon to look over and offer with a quiet tone, that you maybe work on shading here - and dimension here

you had told him you weren’t in the art major and he had given you the kind of look that read, i could tell

before smiling to himself in the way you caved your head in a bit of embarrassment

it wasn’t like you ever thought the meaningless, sometimes only minute long conversation you’d have with him in the art room would turn into a friendship which harbored its way into one-sided love

somehow you had just ended up being invited warmly into his small knit circle

jihoon extending his hand to you after getting a text about dinner with seokmin and jeonghan

jihoon allowing only his and your eyes to fall upon his works in progress, you taking the free time you had to spend at his studio mixing paints and organizing his drawing materials

he never ask you to do those things - but he also never chided you for it

jeonghan had mentioned it once, when you were all walking in the summer evening after a movie outing

that you being able to earn jihoon’s trust was a higher honor than one might think

you had looked from jeonghan to jihoon - who had been walking a bit in front with the rest of your friends

head turned, his profile against the setting sun

“ah - are you buying another bouquet for your artist boyfriend?”

you jump at the sudden question and shake your head

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

you swallow and find that your throats gone dry

“he actually just got broken up with so......”

the florist frowns, taking you gently by the hand and leading you away from the lilies

“then those are not the flowers you should be getting him, you need to get him something that will say cheer up! there’s someone better out there for you - could i suggest tulips?”

you give a polite smile

“no, i think i have to take the lilies.”

when you arrive at jihoon’s apartment, the door is unlocked and jihoon is still in bed

from the way the kitchen is untouched and he’s wearing the same shirt he was yesterday you assume he hasn’t moved in all this time

“jihoon”

you softly speak

“it’s already well past lunch, have you eaten?”

he pulls his feet up so they disappear under the covers again. you look around the room and find a vase full of old paintbrushes

you take it and tell jihoon you’re going to go make him something to eat and that you’ve brought the lilies

he doesn’t reply, not until you turn in the doorway and his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard before

“can you put the lilies in here?”

“you don’t want them in the studio?”

“no, please put them here.”

you quickly fry up an egg and make some coffee, which you set down on the night table beside jihoon’s bed

you move his sketchbook away and realize that it’s open to an empty page

your eyes briefly glance to see if jihoon has reacted at all, but he’s still

you go back to wash out the waves and put the lilies in

you wrap a rubberband around his paintbrushes and set them by the others which are stock piled in the studio room

a small ping of relief floods through you when you enter the bedroom and jihoon is up, holding the cup of coffee in his hands

usually people would suggest you make conversation to help ease jihoon’s mind out of whatever dark place it has wondered into it

but you just put the lilies down and tend to cleaning up whatever other paper and things you can see on the floor

even though jihoon only finishes the coffee and maybe a quarter of the egg, it’s still a start

the pain he’s feeling is fresh and you don’t want to push anything

but as you tell him you’re off to leave again - you remind him that he does have another exhibition planned in two weeks

on the way back home you hope his love for painting can cradle him through this all

whenever you think of the sadness that comes with being unloved, you throw yourself into your hobbies, scribbling down poems or re-reading novels from your time in school

you’d done it all to stop thinking about jihoon - you hope he does the same too

about a week passes when you return to jihoon’s again, and it’s only because this time jeonghan calls you with a serious worry about jihoon’s exhibition

“he isn’t painting, that’s the problem.”

“what do you mean he isn’t painting?”

“when i came over, he was sitting in front of the canvas with his hand pressed against it - but ........ he wasn’t drawing or painting or doing anything.”

you show up to the apartment after the call and take a deep breath before you let yourself in

today might be the first time you mention the breakup to jihoon, and you don’t know if its too early yet

to make the dread bubble even harder in your stomach is the fact that sitting outside of his apartment is that undone portrait of his ex

its half shrouded with other trash bags left to be collected

you look at the familiar face and clench your fist a bit tighter

if you hadnt done this to him, if you hadnt made this mess - i wouldnt be stuck cleaning it up.

you chide and immediately fall into regret

its not a mess, taking care of your friends is not a mess.

you knock on the door and wait for a moment till you hear jihoon turn the lock

you’re relived to see that his hair is wet from a fresh shower, but the bags under his eyes like crows wings cancels it out

as well as the fact that he looks as if he’s seen the devil himself

“what’s wrong?”

jihoon’s shoulders shrink

“do i really have to answer that?”

you step inside and the door closes behind you two

“jeonghan said you’re having trouble painting”

jihoon’s head drops and the darkness of the hallway makes everything feel closer and more intense

he turns and starts to walk toward the studio and you follow, gasping a little at the sight of it

canvases broken in halves, paint spilled on the floor - but not a single new painting, not a single completed project

jihoon sits down in the middle of it all and puts his head in his hands

he looks like he’s in agony, silent and torturous

is this what happens when an artist loses their muse?

you don’t know how to help and that makes it all the more worse

you just sit down beside jihoon

he lets you take his hands in your own

in the corner of the room those fresh lilies youve bought have wilted again

on one of the broken canvases, the only thing jihoon has been able to paint is those scattered and browning petals

you start to come by everyday after that because as much as you share jeonghan’s worry about the art

you are more so worried about jihoon shutting down

now he has nothing to focus on, just the fact that he’s lost the love of his life

so you try and entertain and keep him alive to the best of your ability

with groceries and company, bringing over his other friends - trying to coax him into going outside

jihoon reacts on some level, but you can tell that he just wants to paint again

all he’s done is brush strokes on the white paper, the shape vaguely like that of a flower but you cant ever tell what kind

he also keeps asking you if you can bring him lilies again

you do, and this time they live longer because you tend to them - and when you do you fail to realize that jihoon starts to watch you

he takes note of the way you move the vase with both hands

the way you keep the steams between the same two fingers every time

you arent burdened by the little chore because its takes at most five or so minutes out of the day

but jihoon unfolds each step you take like a storybook page

something in your gentleness entraps him

you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something

he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but

could you do that for him too?

he looks into his hands and the cup of coffee you made for him is sitting on the table to the left

have you already been doing it, all this time?

which is why on the day before the exhibition

when you ask him if he wants you to help him cancel it

he says no, he thinks he can fish something in time

you light up and ask if he’s finally found a new muse, but jihoon blinks slowly

“a new muse?”

“yes, i mean i thought - well i thought they were your muse and losing them meant you couldnt paint but if youre saying you can now then-

jihoon’s eyes turn to ice at the mention but then he shakes his head

“they ...... i never saw them as a muse.”

he stops to think on it, he isn’t lying

“but you loved them, i mean -”

he keeps his eyes down and you fidget, “sorry, let’s not talk about that.”

“i did, you’re right i did love them but that doesn’t mean they inspired me.”

he taps a finger and then looks at you

sitting across from him, how you’ve done a million times before

suddenly jihoon thinks if he can look at you like that for a little while longer

he can create again

he can paint something

so when he asks you to stay still, you do - and jihoon brings his pencil down to paper

only to get up half an hour later and take you with him

he sits you down again and sets up a bigger canvas this time, brings his paintbrushes

and then he moves the vase with the lily from behind him to sit at your feet

“jihoon, are you going to paint me?”

“yes”

“why?”

he looks from the lily to you

“because i want to, and it’s the first time in a while that i think ill be able to.”

you don’t realize it yourself not until you’ve fallen asleep in your position and jihoon is deep into his painting

that the muse you were talking about and thinking he’d lost

had been you all along

jihoon knew it, even when he was in a relationship, that there was no one else in this world that could make him paint

he’d felt it the first time you met in that art class, he’d watched you fumble through your drawing

and usually he wasn’t inspired to draw the mundane, the everyday

until he started seeing just how much it could mean to him

he had been painting that portrait of his ex out of obligation, they had asked him to do it

and so it had been taking a while - it had been unfinished not even because of the breakup but because jihoon didn’t want to do it

and yet here he was, the brush strokes pouring out of him in an attempt to capture every little detail there is to you

he had been wallowing in his pain and hadn’t bothered to look at you again

until you started to be there, everyday, like those lilies

and those lilies, beautiful and sweet

they were yours, you were theirs. to jihoon something about the silk of the petal and the sway of your hair made sense

he doesn’t wake you up, he’s been your friend long enough to know the parts of you he wants in the painting

he only stops when he’s done and his hair is stuck to him with sweat and the sun is rising outside his window

you’ve slumped over completely onto the couch and jihoon comes closer to move you into a more comfortable position

this is the first time in these weeks that he is taking care of you instead of the other way around

when his fingers touch your skin he suddenly feels the kind of sparking urge he has only felt with others who hes been intimate with

your small stir in his arms causes him alarm and excitement all at once, when your eyes open slightly he jumps back before he fears he’ll do something you wont like

in the morning, jihoon is passed out cold in his bed and you get up and rub your eyes

finally you let yourself move toward the canvas to see what jihoon has painted

its you.........its you in every way..........you stare at that face of yours like a mirrored reflection

seeing it like this something ties a knot in your heart

“is this what its like to be a muse?”

jihoon’s voice floats through the room

“you’ve always been mine.”

you turn - because you don’t think you’ve really heard it - maybe its just your drowsy imagination speaking

but jihoon is there and the phone is ringing, jeonghan about the exhibition

neither you or jihoon reach for the phone

instead you ask him,

“what do you mean?”

he doesn’t know how to explain it

instead he looks at you and then over his shoulder into his room

the exhibition doesnt start until the afternoon, and you are in his studio and you are whats brought him back from a point of emptiness

you are more than a muse

somehow you end up with his hand on yours again and this time that spark is searing up through both of you

jihoon’s paint stained fingers splay on the small of your back

you are still a little scared that its too early for this, if its just the wounds on his heart speaking

but jihoons lips only centimetres from yours promise that its more than that

its all that time wasted, his attention was yours that day in the art classroom

and he was an idiot for ever trying to put it on someone else

but like all good things - they come with time and if you want him how he wants you then hes here

and he’s ready to let this between you bloom into something more

you giggle when his breath tickles you before you finally kiss

you wonder if everyone will be surprised by that painting jihoon has done of you when its up in the wall of the gallery

when the lily petals fall from the flower in that vase and land at your entangled feet.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #jihoon scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #woozi au #member: woozi #sfw #writing commissions #seventeen #woozi #park jihoon

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

Text

AAhh I really like 45 it pushed the story along while also being just hilarious and touching and it was just so good!! 46 was just pokemon battles...

OBEY ME! LESSON 45 DETAILED SUMMARY

At breakfast the most of the brothers crowd around MC and ask them how different appliances work, Asmo apologizes for them and then immediately asks MC something as well and well Belphie calls him out on it he says he hasn't been in the human world for a really long time and things have changed. Beel says that the human world progresses so fast that it makes him dizzy and Asmo says maybe it feels like that since the devildom doesn't progress. Lucifer tells MC to get ready to leave once they're done eating (still on the white couches is2g this pisses me off so much) and when MC asks him wtf he says oh yeah forgot you nearly died while Solomon told you about getting a sorcerer's license. MC's got a meeting with Solomon and Beel & Lucifer were asked to come along. Mammon & Asmo protest cause they can't tag along. Belphie says that Beel and Lucifer were probably chosen cause they'll at least appear as mature functioning adults.

They meet up with Solomon in front of the Sorcerer's Society HQ, which according to Solomon is filled with "Pompous Uptight Bureaucrats". It provides assistance to sorcerer's living in the human world and provides them with first a provisional license and then a full license that'll allow them to practice magic as they pls more or less. Lucifer's like; that's great and all but why the fuck are we here. And Solomon tells him that he'll understand when they get inside. Lucifer says that sounds exactly like something someone who was seconds away from causing problems would say and he tells MC to brace themself.

The backgrounds for both these lessons are really good! Right so when they walk in sorcerers start ooing and awing over Beel and Lucifer - they've never seen them irl before, one even wants their autographs. Apparently Solomon's apprentice taming the 7 rulers was believed to be an urban legend?????????? I dunno imagine going from being a normal human to becoming an urban legend amongst sorcerers? Lucifer thinks Solomon brought them along just to boost MC's reputation (ohhh the poor man). Solomon reveals that he isn't on good terms with the society (is it even a surprise?) and being his apprentice would just make things harder for MC and that he established the society with his previous apprentice long ago but they had a falling out and now that apprentice runs the society (is it sad that there's a huge possibility that the falling out could be food related?). Solomon says he brought the brothers as bodyguards for his cute apprentice/charming apprentice/favourite pupil (If he keeps talking like that whoever runs this place is gonna deck MC) since back in the Celestial Realm the two of the were known as "the two greatest champions and protectors of the CR". Beel gets pissed off cause he thinks this means Solomon is putting MC in danger and Solomon says 'lol that's definitely not who I'm putting in danger' and when Lucifer picks up on that and questions Solomon on it he goes 'man look at the time we really gotta go get MC registered WOW'. The dude at the reception uses his staff to etch a magic seal that's the society's crest on to the back of MC's hand (I really feel like you should tell someone beforehand that you're gonna give them what is basically a tattoo? Also cant wait for that butcher to see this and the rest of MC's harem and come to the conclusion that they're in a cult) which consists of 3 staves and 7 stars signifying the 3 Magis who are believed to have invented magical arts and the 7 virtues (is it bad that before i even started om i knew what the 7 sins were but only had a vague knowledge about the 7 virtues? I wouldn't have been able to name them all without this lesson :/ anyway they're humility, generosity, gratitude, patience, chastity, temperance and diligence. Something i really like is that the brothers have all displayed the virtues that directly oppose their sins on a semi regular to regular basis). To get their license apprentuces must earn the seven stars via passing 7 trials with the first of the trials being set and judged by their master. (ok so I assumed each test would focus on a brother and MC'd earn the star that opposes each brother's sin and would pass the test by learning and displaying the virtue of that star. But that isn't what happened here? If anything the test was there to teach Lucifer humility? Is that how it will go? will each test somehow focus on MC helping the brothers learn and display their opposing virtue even though all of them have already displayed this virtue to some extent? I mean I guess the main point of the tests were to show that MC could control the brothers so that makes sense? but even though this test did focus on making Lucifer let go of his pride, the test was about MC learning to control Beel's power and these two lessons are very much focused on Beel so was the star they earned actually temperance? Even though the test didn't have anything to do with that virtue? Ahh i have so many questions about how the stars are earned and neither lesson really clarify it and if anyone wants to come debate about this???)

ANYway Solomon uses a spell to bind Lucifer in place, which pisses Beel off, tho when MC stays calm and just observes what happens Solomon is pleased assessing a situation before taking action is important (Ive had this HC for a while now but solomon is definitely the kinda teacher who throws you into the deep end with just a cryptic warning and watches with a smile as you try to figure out how to not die, if you do something particularly amusing while struggling he'll give you another cryptic hint, occasionally he'll yell out praise with that smile of his even if it looks like you're actively drowning and dying and failing). They start to get an audience while Lucifer threatens Solomon and shifts into his demon form and goes also im still fucking pissed off about that lunch so/ Beel also shifts and threatens Solomon, tho lucifer tells him to stand down cause he wants to murder solomon on his own and that a mere binding spell won't hold him down, Solomon's like Jeez chill it's for MC's exam you fucknugget and Lucifer's like oh shit yeah but you know i'll actually kill you for this later and Solomon's like yeah that's cool and also imma use my powers to make you into the size of a barbie doll and lucifer's like what- MC then proceeds to lose their shit over a tiny blushing Lucifer. MC's test is to keep lucifer safe for 24 hours which would be fine if they you know didn't live with the other 5. which is actually what lucifer says when Beel says it'll be easy if they just stay at home cause home according to lucifer also contains his '5 greatest enemies'. MC's job is to protect Lucifer from them without using any commands on anyone other than beel, and the goal is for them to be able to fully command beel like they did with Asmo in S1 against Henry 1.0. Beel is not allowed to act on his own to protect lucifer and can only act on MC's commands. Beel agrees, Lucifer swears and Solomon asks MC about their confidence levels. MC can promise one of the three of them that they won't mess up. Solomon says he'll stay in the house with them so that he can judge and Lucifer's more or less like; you're having fun aren't you and solomon says Duh.

So they end up at the café where predictably Luke & Simeon end up screaming and laughing at a blushing pissed off mini Luci, Simeon tells him they physically cannot laugh cause of course big scary Lucifer is now in Simeon’s words ‘Teeny-Tiny” & how he’s so cute he wants to keep him in a jar as a pet (God I love this lesson). He says Michael would love to see this and when Lucifer yells at him he completely ignores him to poke his cheek (V Relatable). Luke also wants to join in on the fun but Lucifer is a little bitch to him and as retaliation for scaring their son MC pokes luci on the cheek too. Beel laments about wanting to poke luci on the cheek too and when Solomon tells the others to stop teasing lucifer, luci goes, EXCUSE ME WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE. Beel notes that luci now smells human. When luke asks about the smelling thing beel says that all 3 species? races? Smell different. Simeon marvels at how much humiliation PrideTM is willing to take cause he’s simping for MC. Luci tells them to shut tf up cause unless they come up with a plan to deal with his hell children they’re probably going to kill him the second he steps foot inside the house. Beel tells MC to use his powers. Luci says they should be able to draw out Beel’s powers like they did Asmo’s in S1. Solomon says since he gave them a power up in S1 simply saying the incantation won’t work this time around and they must first fully understand Beel and his nature to be able to do that. MC has a flashback to the Butcher and his relationship advice and then asks Beel what he thinks they should do to be able to better understand him (while I do think ideally this is the right choice, in context with the other two choices, to me, this is the ONLY choice cause the other two come off as slightly yandere on mc’s part). Beel chooses spending time together via sleepover. But obviously Luci will have to come along and Solomon invites himself along too cause he’s still the judge. Simeon’s sad about not being able to join in and luke is TOTALLY NOT JEALOUS OKAY!?!?

Outside the house Luci, Beel and MC all make pledges like they’re invading enemy territory; Lucifer: Swear you won’t let your guard down. Beel: Swear to protect Lucifer with your life. MC, 100% seriously: I Swear. Solomon: Are yall fucking serious??? These are your fucking brothers???? You practically raised them??? Lucifer: Have you ever actually met my brothers???? Beel: You legit think they won’t give up their lives just to fuck with lucifer for a day? When Solomon asks what lucifer ever did to make them hate him so much he says he doesn’t know. And look while “locking me up in the fucking attic for a whole year”, “not acknowledging that you’re actually my father and taking some fucking responsibility” and “blaming every minor inconvenience in your life on my very existence” are all very valid reasons none of them actually hate him right, cause I mean using every chance you get to fuck with your siblings is just part of being a sibling? Which is what Beel and MC both tell Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t believe them and actually seems sad about it. Solomon said “while I do find the complicated interpersonal dynamics of your family fascinating” my ass is freezing out here. …Do you think they’re like solomon’s favourite show??? I mean Solomon’s old as shit and probably doesn’t remember what it’s like to have a family, and before MC, Simeon and the student exchange he didn’t really have anybody so do you think he just watches the brothers + MC like ‘damn, this shit is wild’????????????????? The instant they enter the house, someone casts a spell and they’re pulled into a portal. The fuck did you say about everyone loving Lucifer, says Solomon while making direct eye contact with Beel. They fall through endless darkness and MC tells them to chill cause it only feels like they’re falling. They end up in a weird ballroom/royal courtroom kinda place, which Solomon marvels. Beel & MC recognize the place as a location from one of levi’s games and meet Levi in his TSL clothes who welcomes MC as the ‘hero’.

Beel, Luci & Sol kinda just wordlessly stare at levi with tired expressions and MC being the bro they are plays along with levi by asking if he is who they think he is. He introduces himself as The Lord of Shadows, the ruler of all 7 lands. Lucifer: WTF. Beel says they don’t have time for games and Levi gets upset that they’re making him look pathetic. Levi gives MC their mission – to save the world by defeating the demon lord satan. Lucifer tells Solomon to get the fuck out of there. Solomon says he can’t considering he has no idea where the fuck they are in the first place. Beel politely asks ‘his majesty’ the way to pantry and Levi yells at them to take it seriously. Beel says well ok and explains the whole test thing to levi as a way to explain why they can’t play. Levi says satan already knows this. After that there’s a flash and black smoke starts curling up around the room and satan turns up in his demon form. And LOOK I hate satan’s demon form outfit but it actually looks really good in this context??? The feather boa and ribbon bow thing really works with the curling black smoke, evil demon lord look. It probably helps that you can’t see his bottom half. Anyway Satan turns out to just be a magical projection and he says, well you’ll have to come to me cause I kidnapped your boyfriend, while Diavolo calls out to Lucifer and MC from off screen. Diavolo had run away from the devildom to surprise the brothers. While Lucifer scolds Diavolo and while Diavolo apologizes, Satan tells they must all come to him along with the “obnoxious talking doll”. Lucifer: the fuck did you just say. Ok this part is really cute; Satan: “I’ll be seeing you MC.” Diavolo, still off screen: Can’t wait to see you MC! Luicfer has a migraine. When Beel tries to say they should head off, Levi tells them they forgot something in RPGs. MC, still dutifully in character, asks the lord of shadows to give them aid. Levi gives them 100 grimm and just anekfnsndfjn the fuck can they do with just 100 grimm. Which is what both Beel and Luci say. Solomon says, well maybe they’re just fucking poor around here so everything here is cheap. Levi gives them a talisman to protect themselves with, Lucifer says cool, but once this is over I’m gonna beat your ass :) Levi says he just bought a new game that lets you create your own story and he just wanted to play it with them :(

So they end up in a cute lil’ game village & beel wants to go to a tavern but lucifer says they need to buy equipment first. If MC asks a NPC they just repeat the same line about how great life is under levi’s rule over and over again, if they search in the grass they find some medicinal herbs but beel immediately eats them, if they break a barrel Solomon starts breaking open barrels too and they get yelled at by lucifer. They end up in No. 2’s armoury. Lucifer’s fed up with life. Solomon says the gear looks like shit and Beel says it makes sense since this is only the first town. When Beel tries to ask 2 for food he repeats his introductory dialogue over and over again. With the money they have they’re able to buy gear for Solomon and MC and the only thing that fits Lucifer is the fairy outfit,,,, I’m NOT fucking wearing that says lucifer off screen and God I love this lesson. Solomon and MC are both little shits and can you just imagine them trying to convince lucifer to wear it just to test it out? Fucking amazing. MC tries to haggle/talk with 2 so they could get armour for beel but he says buddy I’m running a business here BUT there’s a monster in the casino that cheats ppl of their mone– Lucifer & Beel simultaneously: Oh, Mammon. So basically, if they can get 2’s money back he’ll offer them a huge discount on the lord of flies armour. They decide to find an inn for the night before they face Mammon.

Lucifer finds it hard to eat food. Solomon: Cause you’re tiny ^.^ Beel: Wonder whose fault that is :I MC can either offer to cut it for him (He thanks MC and tells them to feed him too. Entitled Fuck. Solomon & Beel also want to be fed but Lucifer tells them to fuck off) or tell him to just open wide and take a bite (Lucifer says if he gets too close to the food Beel would probably accidentally eat him). Beel says the food is a lot like devildom food and MC asks him if he likes devildom food or human food, Beel says all food is good. Since they don’t have much money MC & beel and Solomon & Lucifer end up sharing beds with Lucifer telling Solomon to use a spell to keep himself still during the night to avoid accidentally killing lucifer in his sleep. There isn’t a spell for that. At night, Beel asks lucifer if he thinks Satan still hates him and gets “…” in response. Assuming Lucifer is asleep he asks MC what they think. MC says they think Satan just can’t admit that he likes Lucifer. Beel says if that’s what they think then it’s okay cause he just wants Satan to love lucifer like the rest of them do. MC asks Beel if he’s worried about lucifer (Beel says Lucifer wouldn’t want him to worry but… and that he wants to be there when lucifer needs help) or says that Beel really loves Lucifer (Beel happily agrees that he does). Beel then tells MC about how he and Lucifer first met: So back when Beel was an angel, according to him the only thing good about him was that he was strong so he decided to become a soldier except he couldn’t control his strength and always ended up breaking things which led to Raphael always saying something sarcastic to him. The whole thing was depressing for him until one day lucifer came over, sat beside him and talked with him. Lucifer was always really busy and spent most of his days deep inside the palace (places where Beel has never even been to before). He told beel that a soldier was not about attacking but instead about protecting, that protecting was what was most important. He’d told beel that he was special cause he had the power to protect everyone and keep them safe (this shit is the sweetest and it has me sobbing but also that must have hit like a bullet when Lilith died…). Lucifer had told Beel if he learnt to control his powers then Lucifer would recommend him as a Cherubim, gatekeeper. Lucifer had given Beel confidence and his post as a gatekeeper. Which is why Beel wants to protect him, cause he loves and respects Lucifer. He says all his brothers love Lucifer cause if they didn’t they never would have considered leaving the celestial realm. He says that even though Satan’s situation is different he isn’t the same as he was before MC came around and that Beel likes the new satan better. And that he actually likes all his brothers more since MC came around, which is why he likes MC so much too. MC gets to either kiss, hug or thank him. Beel says his powers are there so that he can protect both Lucifer and MC. And FUCK I love this backstory so much????? And I desperately need all the other backstories?

#obey me spoilers #my posts #my theories #obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me!

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager.

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around.

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount.

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip.

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange.

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.”

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two.

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door.

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was.

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman.

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else.

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass.

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?”

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour.

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number.

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market.

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream.

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River.

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty.

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting.

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

“Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!”

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.”

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?”

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.”

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?”

“My pride and joy.”

June 13 (sun)

Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto.

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits.

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.”

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?”

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.”

“Fair enough.”

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

June 15 (tues)

It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her.

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her.

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry.

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one.

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.”

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?”

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.”

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home”

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered.

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said.

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off.

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging.

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?”

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.”

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right?

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said.

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl writing #nhl

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

Okay so based off the song Interlude IV Bakugo and reader they could be maybe shiggy’s sister or Dabi’s who is todoroki’s twin but Dabi took her before Endevor got to train her and ran away basically raising her and knowing what her dad is. So they are both UA traitors and maybe major villains and maybe Kiri is one with them and UA are currently questioning him trying to get infro out of him and they are in the dorms talking about it and at the last line there’s a knock at the door(being the other hero’s) so they leave out the window having to come back for Kiri going back to the League

a/n: ooo when i first listened to this song after receiving this request, i was blown away, the song was so fucking good! i hope i did this justice!!

summary: as shigaraki’s sister, things have only gotten harder for you. being a ua traitor among bakugou and kirishima is a lot to handle, more so when things begin to turn south.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, angst

word count: 1.5k

»»————-　★　————-««

“Do you understand?” Shigaraki glared at the three of you. You nodded and glanced at Bakugou and Kirishima.

“(Y/n). I want to speak to you, alone.” Shigaraki wandered off away from the group, waiting for you to follow him.

“Yeah?” You ask as you finally reach Shigaraki at the end of the hall.

“Don’t disappoint me. Keep an eye on those two.” Shigaraki was tense. He was worried about this entire thing. You’d been attending U.A. as an affiliate of the league since Tomura was reunited with you.

Recruiting Bakugou and Kirishima was just another step of Shigaraki’s plan. Your romantic connection with Bakugou was deemed pointless to Shigaraki, and he would’ve preferred if you’d keep the romantic connections in the league to a minimum, but he supposed it was going to happen sooner or later.

As long as it didn’t cause any problems or distractions, Shigaraki could care less. He was worried as a big brother that you were getting too involved, but as the leader, he needed to put trust into his members.

“I won’t, and I’ll make sure they stay in line.” You reassured your older brother, staring down at the ground. Being his younger sister was tough. He had a temper from hell, and he was just pretty childish in general.

You were, in a way, his rock. If he was stressed, you were there for him, as you should’ve been all those years ago, but something happened and separated you from him. You were grateful to have found him when you did, and you vowed to never leave his side again.

You were going to show the heroes just how strong your brother was, and you were going to do it standing right beside him, fighting alongside him.

- - -

“Kirishima, Principal Nezu would like to speak with you after class.” Aizawa handed the redhead a slip of paper as a pass for him when class was over.

You exchanged a look with Kirishima before looking over to Bakugou. You were worried now.

It’d been about a week since Shigaraki asked you to look after the two boys. So far that was easier said than done. Bakugou was loud and obnoxious, but he wasn’t the type to go around and spill secrets and his business to everyone else.

Kirishima, on the other hand, was a bit harder to manage. He could, upfront, have determination, but he was used to second-guessing himself sometimes. You had to tell him to pull it together a couple of times.

But now things were falling apart.

After class, you tried to get to Kirishima, but the world was against you. Aizawa stopped you and asked you a few questions about your previous work and why your grades had slipped up.

“It was just an accident. I didn’t get a lot of sleep, I’ll get them up.” You lied, trying to hurry this along so you could get to Kirishima before he went to Nezu.

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Aizawa asked, noticing just how anxious you looked.

“Just said I’d meet up with a friend and I’m running late.” You lied again, glaring at your homeroom teacher.

“You can do better, I expect higher grades from you, you’re top of the class.”

Finally letting you leave, you darted out of the classroom. Bakugou had already left back to the dorms. But upon arrival to Nezu’s office, Kirishima was already walking in.

You sighed and turned around, running across campus to get back to the dorms. You had to get to Bakugou, and figure out what the fuck was going on.

- - -

You didn’t even knock. You opened the door to Bakugou’s dorm and locked it behind you. You looked around, making sure nothing look suspicious.

“Hey what the fuck?” Bakugou asked, gripping your wrist.

“Kirishima’s in Nezu’s office.” You spoke, sitting down on Bakugou’s bed, running your fingers through your hair. This was way too complicated. It should’ve been simple, just investigate and act normal, but you couldn’t even do that.

“Calm down. Look everything’s going to be okay.”

“Can we even trust Kiri? He’s been doing pretty good sure, but if he cracks under pressure, we’re done for.”

“He’ll handle it. He has too.”

Kirishima sat in the overly-padded chair in front of Principal Nezu’s desk, staring at the glass of caramel candies. He was too scared to make eye contact. He shouldn’t be worried about anything, but he was.

“Kirishima. Do you know why I’ve called you in here today?” Nezu began, sitting in his own chair, behind his desk.

“No sir. I don’t.” Kirishima replied, a million things running through his mind.

“I’m giving you a chance. I know you’re only working for them to get information. But you can still change.” Nezu was playing his cards upfront. There was no need in trying to deny it, they’d already collected plenty of evidence, and a few students had come forward about seeing Kirishima messaging some shady people on his phone.

Hacking into his phone was easy, and collecting the records and who he’d been messaging was also a piece of cake.

“W-what?” Kirishima stuttered, looking around the office frantically.

“You have an affiliation with the League of Villains. You can turn yourself in, and I’ll make sure your punishment isn’t as harsh.” Nezu was being sincere. He knew deep down that Kirishima wasn’t evil.

“I’m not!” Kirishima was trying to buy himself sometime while trying to think of a way out.

“Can you give us the names of the other U.A. Traitors? In your messages with Tomura Shigaraki, he mentions two other students.” Nezu persists.

Fuck. Not good.

Kirishima begins to sweat. It was too late. If he tried to escape, Nezu would get him, but there was probably a group of heroes waiting for him outside as well. He was completely trapped.

“He’ll be fine. We need to figure this out now.” Bakugou gripped your shoulders and forced you to look at him.

“This is bad. I promised I’d look after you two.” You groaned, hitting your forehead against Bakugou’s.

“Bakugou Katsuki. (L/n) (F/n). Come out at once.” A loud voice boomed from behind the doors.

“Is that Endeavor?’ You panicked, glaring at Bakugou, holding onto him tighter.

“On the count of three, if you do not exit now, we will enter with force!” He yelled again, pounding on the door.

‘he turned us in!” You gripped Bakugou tighter, yanking him up off the bed.

“What do we do?” Bakugou asked frantically.

“We have to go, it’s too dangerous here.” You looked around.

“1!” Endeavor shouted.

“Shit.” Bakugou was gripping your hand tightly.

“2!” You rushed for the window, pulling Bakugou along too.

“3!” Endeavor shouted, kicking the door down. The sound of shattering glass erupted in the room as you and Bakugou leaped down.

It was a rough landing, but Bakugou pulled you up as the two of you ran. There was no going back this time. This was your life now.

- - -

The ticking sound of a clock irritated your thoughts. It’s rhythmic chime every second seemed to only bug the silence with each passing minute.

“We’re finally free.” You mumbled, looking at Bakugou, waiting for the league to arrive.

“It’s just you and me now, standing alone.” You continue, reaching for Bakugou’s hand.

“The world is ours.” You intertwine your fingers with Bakugou’s.

“No, it isn’t.” Bakugou broke the silence that had enveloped him earlier.

“What?” You asked.

“Kirishima. They got Kirishima.” Bakugou ripped his hand away from yours.

“He’ll be fine. Besides, he wasn’t nearly as involved as we were.” Your words were laced with Venom as you spoke. As much as Kirishima getting caught hurt you, you couldn’t dwell on this.

“You promised the world to him, a goddamn lie!”

“What do you want from me!?” You shouted back at Bakugou, anger and sadness building up inside you.

“Oh, look outside yourself!” Bakugou shouted back. He was upset and angry. None of this would’ve happened if he could’ve been by his side, but he had to go back to the dorms, you said it was suspicious to constantly be seen together.

“You’re lost.” You groaned, turning away from him, wanting to end the conversation already.

“Is this what love is really for? Is this all I get for being yours?” Bakugou’s hand reached out to grab your shoulder and turn you back to face him, but the door opened to the building you were currently hiding out in.

Shigaraki rushed in, anger fuming on his expression.

“What happened?” He seethed.

“They got Kirishima.” You replied, stepping away from Bakugou.

Bakugou furrowed his brows and stared at the ground, his hands clamped in fists. He should’ve been there. He could’ve helped him.

“We’ll move on. We need to go.” Shigaraki walked back to the exit and you followed.

“Bakugou.” You called to the blonde, a small feeling of guilt resting on your chest as you looked at him. He was upset and angry.

“We need to go.” You spoke softer, reaching a hand out for him to grab. His fingers laced into yours and motioned that he was ready to go.

“We’ll get him back. I promise.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 3 years

Text

AAhh I really like 45 it pushed the story along while also being just hilarious and touching and it was just so good!! 46 was just pokemon battles...

OBEY ME! LESSON 45 DETAILED SUMMARY

#obey me spoilers #obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me #my theories

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visionsofus · 3 years

Note

I suggest the song "Where the Shadow Ends" by Banners for your mixtape fic. It's beautiful and melancholic, but also hopeful. It's given me a lot of inspiration for WandaVision fics lately.

Ahh thank you so much for this song!! I totally get what you mean with it being kinda sombre but also hopeful! It’s captured so perfectly in the lyrics too. Sorry it took me a while to get around to this - but better late than never ✨

Track #12: Where The Shadow Ends by BANNERS

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision.

All things considered; Wanda probably shouldn’t have gone to the gym when she did. But Steve had offered to help her with some of the new equipment the compound had ordered in and Wanda knew she pushed herself harder when faced with his superhuman training schedule.

She didn’t feel too bad at the beginning of the work out, going through the motions of warming up. She worked out most days because if she didn’t her body suffered after missions. So, she persisted even when she was tired and her muscles were sore, and apparently, even when it was pouring with rain. She’d quickly regretted her decision to go on a run despite the threatening grey sky. By the time the rain had started Wanda was too far into her run to turn back and had stubbornly refused to call anyone at the compound to come pick her up, instead walking all the way back as her wet shoes started to rub blisters into her heels. Thanks to an hour in sopping wet clothes, battling a harsh wind all the way home she’d woken up with a temperature the past two mornings.

But when she’d checked her temperature a few hours ago it seemed the fever had finally broken, and she was so restless that she didn’t hesitate to accept Steve’s invitation. A mistake she was going to pay for.

The warmup had her feeling a little woozy and lightheaded but not terrible. Things quickly went downhill as she started her usual activities. Just as she picked the dumbbells up to start on her triceps a sudden wave of dizziness hit her full force. Wanda vaguely remembered Steve calling her name as the dumbbells hit the floor with two resounding thuds and she promptly passed out.

Vision was stuck in a research spiral when he distantly heard the Compound AI say his name.

“Currently fetching recent message from Steve Rogers,” the robotic voice said from the speaker in the ceiling and Vision tilted his head as he listened. “Wanda has passed out in the gym, please prepare first aid.”

Vision didn’t give the AI the chance to repeat itself, launching himself out of his seat and phasing through the wall. He was used to quick thinking, easily able to make split second decisions based on a variety of possibilities, but this was something different. He didn’t thinkhe just moved. Within seconds he was phasing through the floors of the compound arriving in the basement with such force that his feet split the tiled floor on impact.

“What happened?” Vision asked with such fervour that he might have reprimanded himself for snapping, were he not so taken aback by the sight of Wanda’s limp body in the Captain’s arms.

“We were ten minutes into our workout and she just dropped to the floor,” Steve explained not hesitating to hand Wanda over to Vision’s waiting arms.

“She has a fever,” Vision said as he gathered Wanda up, holding her close so he could support her head against his chest. She was burning up, her breaths coming in short bursts that concerned him. How had her temperature gotten so high and why hadn’t any of them noticed her getting ill? Most of all, how had he let it slip his attention?

“You get her upstairs while I get a drip.”

They both started up the stairs, Vision trying not to jostle his unconscious cargo, too concerned to try phasing, even if the stairs were frustratingly slower. They parted ways at the ground floor as Steve hurried to the med bay and Vision continued to Wanda’s bedroom.

He kicked her door open with his foot and brought her over to the bed. As he set her down atop the navy covers, lifting her up to slip another pillow under her head, Vision wondered if it might have been better to just take her straight to the infirmary, or better yet, the hospital. But Wanda was notoriously unpredictable when it came to waking up in unfamiliar environments and had taken out a wall the last time she had passed out and woken up in the infirmary. Her own space was better, for now. Vision brushed her hair off her sweating forehead and Wanda groaned softly, shivering in her feverish state and reaching for the bed covers.

“No, no,” Vision murmured pulling Wanda’s hands away as she attempted to pull her covers up over her. She might be feeling cold, but Vision estimated her temperature was nearing 39C. While he waited for Cap to return with the drip Vision hurried to and from the kitchen and her bedroom, carrying with him a bowl of water and a cloth. Distracted, he managed to spill about a quarter of it along the hallway. He was just laying the cloth gently atop her forehead when Steve arrived in the doorway, IV equipment in hand.

“How did she get this fever?” Vision asked as Steve set down the mobile frame and hung the bag of liquid from the top. It was rare for illness to travel around the compound when so many of them were unable to fall sick, though there were far more serious conditions that could cause fever.

“She got caught in the rain on Wednesday, must have caught a cold from that,” Steve replied connecting the tubing and handing the other end to Vision as he prepared the needle. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t tell me,” Vision murmured, stoutly ignoring the little part of him that disliked Steve knowing something about her that he didn’t. He instead focused on finishing the IV, taking a little bit of tape from the first aid kit to secure the tubing to Wanda’s bare arm.

It wasn’t really a surprise that he hadn’t known of her rainy run. In the last week Vision had barely seen Wanda, something he found absurd because he lived just down the hall from the room they were currently in. And, well, the rest of the team often described them as being ‘attached at the hip’. Unfortunately, it seemed Wanda was excellent at making herself scarce when Vision tried to be near her these days. She was clearly trying to set a boundary, which Vision would understandably accept, if only he could understand what it was for. There had been no big change between them that he could identify, if anything they’d been getting closer, but it was as though she’d decided she didn’t like spending time with him anymore.

“I should have told her to go easy with the exercise,” Steve said, more to himself than anything, but Vision silently agreed.

Vision sighed quietly and perched himself next to the unconscious Wanda, removing the cloth from her head and submerging it in the basin once more. “She needs to look after herself,” he murmured, “or at least let someone else help her.” Vision avoided meeting Steve’s eyes following this admission, knowing that behind thissomeone else meant himself.

He wrung the cloth out and returned it to her scorching skin, delicately wiping at her cheeks and neck. Though she seemed more peaceful now and her breathing more regular, he was still on edge. Hopefully the fluids would start to do their job and her temperature would come down, but if this continued through the night, he’d call a doctor.

“And are you alright?” Steve asked, he’d retreated to the wall and was leaning against it now with his arms folded. “You were fairly shaken up down there.”

“Yes,” Vision replied quietly, not wanting to speak too loudly lest they wake her up before her body was ready. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “And everything is alright between you two, other than this? It’s like she runs out of the room whenever she sees you these days.”

“I do not know if everything is alright, I thought things were maybe changing between us, but then she began avoiding me,” Vision sighed, tucking Wanda’s hair back from her face. As he did so she stirred slightly, her head tilting into his touch. She mumbled something incoherent.

“She’s been through a lot. A connection like the one you two seem to have,” Steve cleared his throat, “uh this intimacy I suppose, could be scary and unfamiliar. I could be wrong, of course, I’m just speaking to what I’ve seen in the last few months.”

Vision didn’t reply and continued wiping at her forehead. He often spent more time watching than talking, he spoke when it was of value and only with Wanda did he find himself speaking freely. To have Steve identify this insight about their relationship made him realise that he wasn’t the only one monitoring the interpersonal connections of his teammates.

When he didn’t reply Steve pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up, and you know what they say about chicken soup and the flu. I’ll go to the store.”

“Good idea,” Vision said absentmindedly.

He sat with Wanda quietly for another half hour, replacing the basin of water once and continuing to cool her forehead down. At one point he had to stand to put the blinds down as the late afternoon sun started to hit the side of the compound and streamed through her windows, casting them in a golden light. Otherwise, he was simply content to sit by her side for the first time in a week without her scurrying out of the room or pretending like he wasn’t here.

He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Wanda’s shelves and the growing collection of items she’d collected on their travels to personalise her room. A snow globe from Atlanta, a framed picture of the team from their first big mission together, a newspaper clipping, one of the few that spoke kindly of her.

“Was I wrong,” he murmured to the air, “to think we were becoming something more?”

“Vis?” Came Wanda’s quiet voice and Vision was surprised to feel her fingers brushing his knee. He turned to her to see she was blinking blearily up at him.

“You’re ok,” Vision assured her instinctively, moving closer to lift the cloth from her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” she muttered thickly. “Can I have some water?”

“Just a moment.” Vision stood and sped out the room and to the kitchen where he hurriedly filled up a glass and was back at her side in seconds. She managed a soft smile when he reappeared, the first smile he’d seen in a week, which almost had him stumbling as he returned.

He offered his hand to steady her as she sat up a little and took the water from him. When she leant back once more, her eyes were on him darting about his face and he quickly schooled his expression to be free of the worry nagging his heart.

“Is there anything else you need?” Vision asked.

“No,” Wanda sighed sleepily, “just rest I think.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Vision nearly kicked himself for saying what he feared out loud, for providing such an easy opportunity to let her push him away again.

“No.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

In silent response Wanda turned her head away from him and bit her lip.

“You’re ill and tired, we shouldn’t have this conversation right now,” Vision said, aware of the fact that he was buying time for himself before she could give him the answer he feared.

“Please don’t be angry,” Wanda said and then so quietly, Vision thought he had imagined it, “it’s for the best.”

He’d been ready to stand and leave the room but at this took one of her hands in his, squeezing it in what he hoped she took as reassurance. “I am not angry at you, I could never be angry at you. I am worried.”

“But I’ve been avoiding you without explanation,” Wanda huffed raising her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Well, I suppose there is that,” Vision relented, “but please know I would never be angry at you for wanting space, I admit I was hurt but if you could explain things to me, if there’s anything I’ve done that you haven’t liked—”

Wanda laughed, or it sounded like something close to a laugh, coarse and cynical more than anything. Vision stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands. Distantly, he registered the sound of the front door opening and closing – Steve was back just in time.

“I should go,” Vision said sadly, standing up to leave, “Steve will bring you some soup.”

“Wait no,” Wanda said sitting up and her hands flying out for him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

He could tell she wasn’t lying and slowly let her pull him back down to the bed. Wanda slowly leant against the pillows once more, this moment of exertion had evidently taken it out of her. She closed her eyes even as her hands remained tight on his arm. “The fact that you think you could ever do something I don’t like, is ironic, that’s why I laughed.”

“Ironic?” Vision asked.

Wanda sighed quietly and moved her hands from his arm to his hands, holding them tightly as though prepared to stop him from walking out again. “You want me to spell it out, huh?”

He said nothing.

“I owe you an explanation I suppose,” Wanda said and despite how peaky the sickness was making her look, her cheeks gained a little more colour as she spoke. “You’ve been too good to me, the best part of my days is when I’m with you, I pulled away to see if what I was feeling was real. I thought if I could go a little bit without you then maybe what I was feeling wasn’t that serious,” she jerked her chin to the IV stand next to her, “but my assumptions were correct.”

“So,” Vision began raising his eyes to meet her unwavering gaze, “what you’re saying is…”

“I’m falling for you and I’m scared about what that means for us,” she said and took a deep breath, “and of losing you.”

“You cannot lose me if you don’t have me,” Vision replied, “and perhaps youcan put aside your feelings. I, however, cannot.” It was true, if this week had taught him anything it was that he needed her in his life, by his side and if she let him, as something more.

Wanda’s eyes shone happily for a moment before she seemed to reign herself in. “I thought I could stop how I’m feeling,” she murmured, “I thought it was for the best, I thought I could protect myself.”

“We could protect each other.”

“Until one of us isn’t there,” Wanda said cynically, “I know this isn’t the kind of job we get to retire from.”

“Is that not more reason to pursue this, while we can?” Vision asked leaning closer.

Wanda didn’t have an answer to this, and Vision felt as though he had said enough for her to think about. He stood up, keeping a hold of her hands for as long as he could before he was forced to let go, stepping away.

“I will go and see if your soup is ready.”

Steve sat with Wanda while she ate the soup, her mind doing backflips over her conversation with Vision.

She wasn’t expecting Steve to be so forthright with his questioning, but he asked her as soon as she finished eating. “Have you fixed things between you and Vision?”

Wanda tried not to let her mouth hang open in surprise. “Not yet,” she muttered letting her spoon drop against the bowl and pushing it towards him.

“I’ve never seen him scared before today, you really gave him a fright.”

Wanda didn’t reply, letting the information sit with her even as the guilt began to fester.

“I don’t say that to make you feel bad,” Steve said, as though reading her mind, “I’m telling you so you know how much he cares about you. I mean he’s a synthezoid, Wanda, we used to worry he wouldn’t feel things and now the problem is him feeling too much? Do you not feel the same?”

Wanda stealthily avoided this question, she hadn’t even confessed the full extent of her emotions to Vis, she wasn’t about to let Steve in on her closely guarded heart just yet. No matter how much his counsel usually helped her. “I just feel this great wave of darkness waiting just beyond our horizon,” she said quietly, afraid to admit the brewing shadows she’d been feeling for months now. “Like something big is on the way, something we can’t stop.”

Steve’s brows furrowed at this, but he persisted. “Wanda, you of all people know how much your own mind can be your biggest enemy,” he said, “so is that really reason enough to ignore the light? Avoiding sad emotions doesn’t necessarily make us feel happy, so what makes you think running from happiness will stop you ever being sad?”

When she was still quiet, he pushed further. “You’ve had more darkness in your life than anyone should, but here’s an opportunity to add a bit of light to those shadows, are you really going to say no?”

She opened her mouth to answer but this time didn’t have the opportunity as Vision phased through the wall, pausing when he saw he’d caught the pair deep in conversation.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quickly, but Cap was standing up, taking the empty soup bowl with him.

“It’s ok, I was just leaving.”

Vision pressed his hands together as he walked around her bed hesitantly, keeping his distance. “I wanted to check in on you before bed, are you feeling better?”

“Much better,” Wanda said, but she still felt a little feverish and like she might need to sleep for a week.

“I am glad to hear that,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck, “if you need anything in the night I’m just down the hall.”

“Can’t you stay?” Wanda blurted out before she could lose her nerve again. “Please?”

“If that would help,” Vision replied, and Wanda swore he turned away to hide a smile. When he looked back at her she patted the bed, gesturing for him to join her.

He was careful not to jostle her as he laid down, and Wanda openly admired his grace even as he shyly avoided her gaze.

“I admit I probably wouldn’t have slept tonight; I’d just keep coming in to check your temperature,” Vision conceded as he lay his head against the pillow and Wanda turned to face him. Then, more hesitantly, “Please don’t push me away without warning again.”

“I promise,” she replied without hesitation. “Perhaps I wasn’t sick because of the rain, maybe it was more complicated, like my heart giving up a little when I stubbornly tried not to listen to it.”

Vision chuckled. “I think the rain definitely didn’t help, but your heart makes a good point.”

Wanda smiled tugging the pillow further under her head and placing a hand under her cheek. She scrunched her nose at Vision, unable to stop smiling and extended her hand in invitation. He accepted, bringing one of his own hands up and intertwining their fingers, kissing the back of her hand tenderly.

“And have you decided to listen to your heart?” He murmured, kissing her hand to punctuate the question.

“I have a very stubborn heart,” she relented, “I couldn’t ignore it even if I tried.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vision said smiling at her and shuffling closer.

Wanda pushed back against his chest and Vision immediately halted. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll get sick.”

Vision laughed. “Wanda, dear, I am a synthezoid, you couldn’t pass your illness onto me even if you wanted to.”

Wanda tilted her chin up at the challenge. “Well in that case.” She pulled him close and pressed her mouth to his as she’d wanted to hundreds of times. As though in celebration, the lights flickered out and the door slammed shut, submerging them in darkness that had Wanda laughing in embarrassment at her magic’s overreaction. Now cast in shadow, the only light was the soft glow of the mind stone atop Vision’s head, and the faint gleam of his eyes in the night. She used them as guidance to kiss him again, and again, and again. Finding no reason to stop until she felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back a little so that their noses were still brushing and the breath between them was shared. She was done with running from this, not quite sure how they had ever been able to hold themselves back from each other.

#wandavision #scarletvision #Wandavision fanfiction #wanda maximoff #scarletwitch #wanda x vision #concerned vision is a sweetheart #wanda feels too much #and fears too much lol #visionsofusfics

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yeoldontknow · 3 years

Text

🖊writerly conversation tag

tagged by @j-pping to do this amazing interview/reflections tag. of course she put together one of the most amazing tags ever because she is brilliant. thank you for tagging me angel!

questions below the cut!

2020

what was the most challenging part of writing this year?

gosh...i think for me the hardest bit was staying both motivated and inspired. a lot of my inspiration comes from being out in the world. im an introvert but i enjoy being out in the city around the noise and the people and the buildings on my own. the majority of my writing used to be done while riding the subway or on a weekend after id gone out somewhere. a lot of my fics are inspired by locations, and experiences within those locations. being inside for the majority of the year made it hard for me to remember how...people interact with or relate to the spaces around them. so i felt like a lot of the time staying inspired was coming from places within just me that felt inauthentic. i think my writing benefits from my ability to see multiple perspectives, so i felt like a lot of dialogue or writing itself was suffering just coming from me alone. it took a lot of work to ensure that it wasnt like that.

and then, motivation was also so hard. the internet and the news and everything about america, the planet, the everything was unrelenting and draining. we as people were privy to so much trauma this year, to the collapse and fracture of communities, lives, governments. there were several weeks at the end of may and into june where i just...couldnt. i had no energy for anything. it happened again in november after the election and the windfall of it. energetic tensions were so high it just felt so hard to push out words when things were breaking everywhere. like there were more important things i needed to focus on, and healing was one of them.

what was the most enjoyable/rewarding part of writing this year?

i enjoyed the new community of writers/friends i found by writing for bts again. they challenged me and pushed me to better myself. @jamaisjoons is so inspirational in the way she generates community and encourages relationships between storytellers. doing the summer bucket list pushed me out of my hermit hole for camp nano, and i cranked out molotov cocktail and felt so proud of it. it mattered so much to me because it was the first long thing id written after a period of feeling deceased, and it was so enjoyable because there was a sense of community around it. its easy to forget how essential having a support system in your creative community is.

what piece has left the most impact on you and why?

probably ciperion. words cannot express how proud i am of that story and the direction its going in. i read it back sometimes and i realize that my writing was elevated because of that piece. tbh molotov was responsible for that lift, but ciperion was just a whole other tier. ive also never written anything like that story before and it felt so good exploring the themes of seafaring and pirates.

what have you learned about yourself through the process of writing in the past year?

that i absolutely am someone who took for granted how inspiring the world is even if i see it as a stressor. but also that writing isnt necessarily about being inspired. its about pushing on when its hard. some of my best pieces came from that kind of push this year. 2020 felt like...a slog through most of it, but i kept pushing myself to write even when i was low and tired. i realized that some of my best writing comes from that push, when its not easy and when its difficult and i have to think harder. thats where i grow.

how has your writing changed in the past year? how have you grown?

i think im more syntax and detailed focused than i used to be. lately ive been experimenting with making the act of reading feel like pleasure. my favourite books are the ones where i read a sentence, and im moved because it felt nice to read or it felt powerful. the sentence itself had power, not the image it was trying to convey. somehow separate, if that makes sense. theres a lot i need to learn before i could go off comfortably and try to write a book, and this is what ive been trying to master. my attention to detail has grown, and sometimes i think thats a detriment. i think sometimes im too detailed and i dont leave my reader enough power on their own. im still finding that balance, but i think im pleased right now with what im trying to push myself to master.

2021

ignoring your wips for a second, if you had all the time and energy in the world to write your magnum opus piece, what would it be about? why is that the dream story you’d write, all other things controlled for?

ive had two books in my mind forever. one was originally being written as a fanfic in a different fandom before i stopped and realized its too big and so much more important, and is worth being a book id like to write. if i wrote an opus like this it would actually be a book id submit to publishers but ~

- hundreds of years in the future, society has learned how to cure most diseases. for those we cannot, the sick person can be cryogenically frozen for a period of time until a cure is found. there is, however, a limit to the length of time they are frozen. no one has ever been frozen for over 100 years, and the main character is a scientist embarking on the experiment to do just that. it is, effectively, time travel. the main character is rash, selfish, sarcastic - not a very nice person; invested in their work and science and little else. they freeze themselves and wake up in the future. during their time in rehab they have to confront the horror theyve made of themselves, the horror people have made of the future, learn to be vulnerable. they end up falling in love with another scientist etc etc. theres so much more to this story and the world is enormous. one day ill revisit it

- a fictional play on orpheus in the underworld where a female main character’s brother was sold by their mother to the goddess of the underworld (helena instead of hades) for eternal youth. the gods all live in a hotel (the concept of this main thing is being used in elysian fields but its not remotely the same) after they were removed from the heavens. main character (ophelia) must gather several totems from the gods to prove her worth and survive her trip into the underworld to rescue him. id like to not focus on a woman finding romance, and instead a woman finding herself, her strength, her devotion to family, her power, and connecting with her history.

how do you want to grow in your writing this year?

this year id like to find balance, like i mentioned above, with my need for detail and my trust in my readers. the balance between detail and dialogue. i want to try to condense my writing again so not everything is a goddamn series. the ideas i have are huge and thats great but i need to remember how to parse things again, while still maintaining impact.

what’s one thing you’d wish to see in the fan-writing community this year?

i want more community, in general. as a multi fan, i see pockets in the kpop fandom where it exists and im well and truly aware that its recently become incredibly hard to foster on the exo side. ill just say that. maybe i dont witness it or its happening amongst blogs i havent found or have not found me. i want to see less dialogue about ‘popular blogs,’ whatever that means; less focus on notes; less worries about statistics. i want people to remember that fandom is not about numbers, and the moment you make it about that is the moment you stop having fun. i want less fear from writers regarding sharing work they read and liked, less shame around it. i want to see more vocal communication for the things people like and don’t like, more engagement and more interaction. the concept of popular blogs is so ridiculous to me, because no one has any control over the metrics. no one has control over who follows them or reads their work except the person doing the actual reading. i want people to realize they hold so much power - a person with 10k notes has as much power as a person with 2 notes because sharing is what fosters community. i want this fandom to remember to share again.

name one new thing you want to try doing in your writing this year.

gosh i really love postmodernism in writing. think like mark z danielewski, who plays with the shapes of words or the act of holding a book - the physicality of it. id like to maybe write a choose your own adventure, or do something that encompasses multiple platforms. or even, more importantly, finish as still as sound and time runner. those are more reasonable goals. time runner actually is done, i just need to stop pressuring myself about it and edit it to get it up. asas, too, is largely done i just need to get my ass together. i have so many other ideas no one has ever seen i need to finish what ive started. thats a real goal.

tagging: @yehet-me-up @jamaisjoons @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @luffles424 @yoonia @shadowsremedy @chillingkoo @onherwings @inkedtae @ninibears-erigom @imdifferentshadesofpurple @readyplayerhobi @ditzymax @sugaurora @snackhobi @yeojaa @sahmfanficbts @xjoonchildx @johobi and anyone else who wants to do this. as always please only do so if comfortable or you want to!

#writer conversation tag

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cutieodonoghue · 4 years

Photo

dark gray (15/17)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on Tumblr!

///

Fifteen

Two Weeks Later

The media had finally decided the story was over just a few days before Christmas, probably because they’d rather spend their holiday with their own families rather than staring at the Nolan house all day with no updates to her story.

And somehow, after that, it’s normal again. Well, as normal as it can be.

It’s not easy to play the part she’d once performed so easily just a few months ago. For better or worse, the time she’d spent on the island has changed her.

Without any phone calls or messages sent from across the ocean, Emma feels stagnant. If she went back for him, there would be no guarantees of leads or direction. Leaving might even make it harder for Killian to find her.

Ruby and Belle, two of her closest friends, come to the house one morning and practically drag her out the front door to take her Christmas present shopping.

“So when will you tell us about what happened?” Ruby wonders, peering over at her from the driver's seat of Emma’s beat up VW Bug.

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’ve already told you guys everything. I fell into the ocean and washed up on the shore of a tiny island somewhere.”

“Yeah, and there was a hot lighthouse keeper. What’s he like? Killian Jones.”

Belle gasps from the backseat. “Ruby! Be kind.” The librarian turns, “Sorry, Emma. How about we talk about something else?”

Their favorite place to shop for odds and ends is on Main Street, so that’s where they find themselves, baskets in their arms while they stroll through the aisles chatting and laughing.

It’s easier to forget the sadness she feels in the back of her mind while instead thinking about what gifts make sense for her parents, or while she’s trying to keep track of the latest Ruby drama.

“Oh, Emma, Belle has a boyfriend.” Ruby suddenly announces, shaking her head in surprise. “I totally forgot to tell you.”

Emma looks at Belle, smirking slightly. “You do?”

Belle wears a bright red blush, covering her face with the mittens that she holds in her hands. “I do.”

She and Ruby share a laugh at Belle’s shyness over the fact that she’s in a relationship.

Emma reaches out to touch Belle’s arm, gently assuring her that she cares. “Who is it?”

Belle hesitates, looking between Ruby and Emma. She lowers her voice slightly, as if she’s going to be overheard. “Will. You can’t tell anyone. It’s so new, Emma.”

She has to laugh again. “Will Scarlet?”

Belle gasps. “Don’t laugh! I wouldn’t laugh if one of you were seeing someone.”

“The brooding sailor and the hopeless romantic librarian.” Ruby sighs wistfully. She plucks something off of a nearby shelf to add to her basket. “They’re really cute, though, Em. After Christmas, we should get together for dinner so we can interrogate him.”

Emma nods. “Sure.”

“I don’t see why you’d need to,” Belle rolls her eyes. “You both know him.”

“But we have to. It's our job!”

It always happens like this. In the middle of mundane conversation, a pit sinks to the pit of her stomach and she loses all of the joy she may or may not have had before.

Belle must notice, because she holds Emma’s arm, pressing her hand and chin against Emma’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Emma manages a smile. “I’m fine… I just think I should get going.”

“Emma…”

“No, Emma, stay.” Ruby begs, pouting her lower lip. “We can talk about literally anything else. Like, okay,” She exchanges a wide-eyed look with Belle. “Last week I was with my Granny and she said there’s no reason for us to keep making the apple crisp? What’s that about?” Her voice lowers, “People still order apple crisp.”

Belle’s gaze follows Emma, a small worried frown on her lips. “Why don’t we look for something to give Killian for Christmas?”

Somehow, the thought doesn’t hit her as hard as it could. In fact, she thinks it would be good to buy him a present.

“Okay.”

Belle thoughtfully turns to the shelves nearby. “How does he feel about candy canes? This store seems to have an endless supply.”

They all laugh briefly. Emma tucks her hair behind her ears, thoughtful. “Let’s see if they have any journals.”

He’s started thinking about fleeing the hospital in the middle of the night.

Everyday, it’s the same thing. He sleeps, he eats, a nurse comes and chastises him for trying to stand on his own. Rinse and repeat.

His doctor says he has to stay put for another week, but the newspaper Smee brings him claims that it’s almost Christmas, and he can’t possibly spend Christmas wearing a paper-thin gown and a pair of socks from the lost and found.

Not when he could be with Emma. Not when she’s out there wondering if he’s even alive.

“Smee, I need to get out of here.”

It isn’t the first time he’s suggested an escape, so Smee just glances at him briefly while he fiddles with the remote to the television that hangs on the wall ahead of them.

“Will you give me my clothes at least? This hospital gown is starting to chafe.”

Smee sighs, frustrated with the remote control, and drops it on the table. He looks at Killian again. “What?”

Killian groans. “If I could hit you, I would. You’re useless.”

His only friend pivots his chair toward him and folds his hands together. “How about we have a chat?”

“About what?”

Smee shrugs. “Do you think you’ll go live in America with Emma once you’re out of the hospital?”

“That’s the hope.”

Smee hums thoughtfully. “I think it would be worth looking for her online… maybe we could see if we can find a friend…”

“Smee, I need to get to her in person.” Killian interrupts Smee’s train of thought. “I can’t… I’m exhausted of this. I need to be with her.”

Smee thoughtfully stares at him. Then, he reaches for his bag, digging into it to remove a slip of paper.

“I know it isn’t much, but a friend of mine found an address online. It might be Emma’s...”

Sitting upright, Killian’s brow dips as his eyes narrow. “Hold on. You’ve had an address this whole time?”

Smee stares at him blankly. “You’ve been bedridden.”

He thinks about his options very, very briefly, before he determinedly pushes back the sheets and forces himself to sit on the edge of the bed.

Killian grits his teeth. It’s never easy getting out of bed merely to visit the restroom, but he can’t force himself to stay another minute with Smee suffocating him to death with his crossword puzzles and mid-afternoon variety shows.

With teeth still gritted, he yanks the IV out of his arm, much to Smee’s alarm. “Oh! Please, don’t do what I think you’re doing. Please stay in bed. Please.”

His stocking feet hit the cold floor with a grimace. He extends an arm to Smee. “Hand me my clothes.”

Smee stares at him, not moving. Killian stares back, lifting a daring eyebrow.

“Now, Smee.”

The man jostles into action, grabbing his folded clothes from the bag he’d kept at his side. Killian sheds the hospital gown and takes each article as quickly as Smee passes them over.

It’s not easy getting into the shirt, which really should be a warning sign that pulling on pants will be impossible, but he dives into the task headfirst anyway.

He does it for Emma. He does it for Henry. He does it for sake of his own sanity.

After he dresses, he finds his breathing labored and he aches in ways he shouldn’t, but he looks at Smee again anyway. “The address.”

Smee comes closer to him, paper in hand. He hesitates. “I can’t give it to you.”

Killian begins to cradle the pain in his ribs, but refuses to slow down. “Smee. I’m not asking.”

He glares at the man until Smee caves, slouching his shoulders as he passes him the paper. “How are you going to get there? Look at you. You don’t even have any shoes!”

“Then thank you for offering yours. Bloody kind of you.”

Smee gives him a weary look, but kicks off his own boots to offer them to Killian. For someone trying to keep him from leaving, Smee isn’t exactly doing a good job.

Holding his head up high, Killian knows the only way he’ll be able to get past the nurses and doctors is if he does so quickly and with a level head.

He takes a deep breath and takes one step forward, already regretting the decision to wear a size of shoe too small for his feet.

“I’m only going to ask you once more to stay. Please. You can’t make the trip like this alone.”

Killian stares at Smee. Smee stares back at him.

Almost as if Smee reads Killian’s mind, his shoulders fall and he sighs. “I’ll collect my things.”

It has been four weeks. Four weeks since she’d last seen Killian. Four weeks since she’d last kissed him. Four weeks since she asked him to come back to her.

There was a voice in her mind that whispered darkly to her sometimes. Maybe he stayed on purpose. Maybe he didn’t actually want to leave. Maybe he hadn’t actually changed.

Maybe everything she thought she’d experienced on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean was in her head.

Emma does her best to shed these thoughts, but sometimes, she clings to them.

She drives to the diner, where she’d told Mary Margaret they could meet for lunch, and sits parked in front of the building for far too long.

Her phone buzzes twice.

Mom: Henry and I are at the diner!

Mom: Come whenever you’re ready (smiling emoji)

Deciding she should go inside, Emma sighs deeply and unbuckles her seatbelt. Making life normal again felt wrong without Killian here.

She sits beside her mother at the diner, leaving room for David to join opposite them in a little while. Henry happily bounces in Mary Margaret’s arms, giggling when Emma leans in and kisses his cheek. “Hi, baby.”

Her mother smiles at her. “I think he’s going to start standing on his own soon.”

“Yeah?” Emma asks, excited. Henry squirms from Mary Margaret and into Emma’s arms. She sighs happily, pressing her cheek into his baby soft curls. “I’ll miss him being this small, though.”

Mary Margaret chuckles. “We all will.”

All too easily, Emma’s delight with being with her family fades and she finds herself taking a breath just to hold it.

“If we knew where he was, I would tell you to go find him.” Mary Margaret says, seeming to know exactly where her mind went.

Emma nods. “Yeah.”

She pauses, a pest of a thought gnawing at her, begging to be shared. Emma fights with that impulse for a few seconds. Mary Margaret didn’t need to know the very worst of her inner thoughts.

And yet, the thought gnaws. Emma peers at her mother, the ever kind and compassionate source of hope and love in her life.

“What’s on your mind, honey?” Her voice is without meaning harm or pity. It hardly ever is.

Hesitating just a few seconds more, Emma adjusts herself in the booth so she can face her mother more.

“Up until the last few days, he still wanted to stay on the island, and I don’t know if he really meant what he said. How am I supposed to know for sure? I mean, it isn’t like we’d known each other for a long time.”

Her mother frowns. “Emma, you can’t think like this.”

“It’s just being honest.” She sighs. “If he deep down had any doubts… maybe he took the easy out where he could and that’s why we haven’t heard from him.”

Her mother, who has always been filled to the brim with fairytales and happy endings, reaches for Emma’s hand and shakes her head.

“You have to have hope, Emma. Without it, there’s no chance for a happy ending. Do you think we ever gave up hope we’d find you?”

Guilt hits her in a hard pang. She swallows thickly. “No. Of course not.”

Her mother tilts her head to the side, smiling gently. “Then why should you give up on Killian?”

Abruptly, Emma’s phone buzzes on the table and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, shoot. I have to take this outside. It’s the doctor.”

Doctors visits had become a weekly routine. Between herself and Henry, the tests and exams seemed endless, although necessary to make sure they were alright after everything they’d been through.

Her mom takes Henry as Emma answers the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi, Emma, it’s Doctor Whale’s office. I’m Nurse Bell calling about your blood test results.”

Emma hums as she steps out the diner’s front door, the bell tinkling in her wake. Taking the steps down to the snowy patio quickly, she isn’t paying any attention when she runs straight into another person.

“Oh!”

Her phone almost falls from her hand when she staggers after the impact. Before her stands her father, who laughs, apologetic. He steadies her with his hands on each of her arms.

“Oh, geez. Sorry, Sweetie.”

She laughs in response, using his shoulder as a balance while she pulls herself back together. “It’s okay. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

He gently reaches up to adjust her hat on her head. “There you go.”

Emma smiles in thanks, softening a little at the gentleness of the interaction. “Mom and Henry are in our favorite booth.” She holds up her phone. “I have to take this. Be right in.”

David nods in understanding and Emma quickly pulls her phone back to her ear. “So sorry about that. I just... had a run-in with someone.”

The nurse laughs. “I heard. Do you want to hear your results over the phone or would you rather come into the office?”

Emma shakes her head. There’s no need to visit the doctor again if it was just a routine blood test. “I’ll take them now, if that’s possible.”

Nurse Bell pauses. “Okay, well… everything looks good. Um… well, except…”

Her heart skips an anxious beat. “What is it?”

“Well, congratulations are in order, Emma,” the nurse says with a smile she can hear even on the phone, “you’re pregnant.”

All of the blood completely drains from her face and she finds herself standing so still, so quiet, that she almost forgets that she’s on the phone.

Her voice breaks when she finally squeaks out, “What?”

The nurse rattles off a bunch of information, but Emma isn’t listening.

Pregnant.

How the hell did this happen?

Of course, she knows how. She just doesn’t... know how.

Somehow, she ends the call and finds the will within herself to lift her feet, though her mind races with thoughts of Killian.

His eyes, so blue. Would their child have blue eyes too?

Once she stands inside Granny’s Diner, she casts her gaze onto her parents and Henry.

Henry is going to be a big brother.

She’s going to have a baby.

And Killian is still missing.

Every excuse she’d made up for not going to look for him now seems so insignificant. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they were meant to be together, but now she actually felt it in her bones.

She shouldn’t have waited for so long to go… maybe she shouldn’t have even left so quickly after reuniting with her parents. But staying here now, with the knowledge that both of her children could be without their father… it felt wrong in the worst way.

Guilt floods her mind, squashing the darkness that had been bothering her all day with a bitter flavor. She almost allows it to overwhelm her, to anchor her to the premise it feeds her, but somewhere deep down, hope stirs within.

Hope that this is only a hiccup, that she would find him, and they would be together again. No matter where, or when, or how, Emma would see Killian again.

When she comes back to the table in the back corner of the diner, she sits beside her mom, who immediately turns to her with worry knitting her brow.

“What’s wrong?”

Emma’s mouth opens, words refusing to form on her tongue. She shakes her head slowly. “I’m going to find Killian. I should get on a plane tonight.”

Mary Margaret looks across the table at David, as if she needs help wrangling Emma in, but her father nods, a kind smile on his face.

“Whatever you need to do. Let’s go. I’m with you, Emma.”

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #dark gray #my writing

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