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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 307: The One With Shindou

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor and Hawks (and Jeanist too, although he didn’t really do anything, but BY GOD, WHAT IS UP WITH HIS NECK) held a press conference and were all, “everything you’ve heard is true, so we would just like to say, from the bottom of our hearts... our bad.” U.A. opened its doors to the public as an evacuation shelter. Deku and All Might told basically EVERYBODY about OFA, which is absolutely wild, and yet somehow we hardly paid any attention to this at all. Mostly because the chapter ended with Deku being all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD, THE ONLY ONE THAT I HAVE EVER KNOWN” and peacing out of U.A. to embark on a solo journey of angst. So this is either gonna be the best or the worst thing that ever happened to this series, so TIME TO FIND OUT WHICH IT IS.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so who do you guys want to see next? Deku? Bakugou?? Well how about SHINDOU?” Shindou is all “hi :) I’m Shindou :) :) remember me :) :) :)?” Horikoshi is all “I’m so sorry for depriving you guys of Shindou for so fucking long, how about an ENTIRE CHAPTER ALL OF HIM” and then he REALLY FUCKING DOES IT because, I don’t know?? Did we make him mad?? Am I being punished for something I did in a past life?? It really is, honest to god, seventeen whole goddamn pages of Shindou, punctuated by a few pages of Muscular, and topped off with one (1) whole appearance by Deku at THE VERY END. And we don’t even get to see his face. I am beside myself lmao I’m sorry you guys, you can skip this recap if you want. Or just skip straight to the end, because movie 3 promo.

“long time no see” now what could this mean?? can’t think of too many characters this phrase would apply to right now. although I can think of one big one, and I know that fandom has been trying to manifest his deadbeat ass to finally show itself for years now. could it finally be that time? if Hisashi shows up and debunks DFO a big chunk of the fandom is probably going to riot lol

(ETA: why oh why did I get my hopes up like that lmao. I’m pretty sure Hisashi doesn’t actually exist and Deku was either immaculately conceived, or the stork really did bring Inko a lil green baby from the cabbage patch.)

anyway, so the chapter is opening on this random scene of CRIME and DISARRAY

was this all done by that big villain from the previous chapter? utility poles knocked down, random holes in the sides of buildings, and it looks like this one car pulled over in a hurry and the driver just hopped out and ran

who are these people talking

OH NO, OH GOD

I am immediately struck by the urge to push Shindou off of this ledge. is that mean? probably that is mean, but also fuck this guy lmao. every year you cheat someone out of their well-deserved spot in the popularity poll, and every year I want to punch you in your stupid face for it

bah. and how are you doing, Tatami. love that hero name even if you do have arguably the dumbest superpower in the entire series

listen, though. here I am shitting on these Ketsubutsu kids for no good reason, and I’m sorry about that, and truthfully it’s mostly because I just want to see Deku and/or Kacchan and so it’s hard to give a fuck about anything else right now. BUT, I will immediately cease and desist ALL of my complaining if this means we also get to see my best girl Ms. Joke, omg. Horikoshi please

sdlkfjlskalk

FUCK YOU SHINDOU OMG. I’M SORRY GUYS I CAN’T HELP IT, EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS SO EMINENTLY PUNCHABLE AND DETESTIBLE. IT’S LIKE SOMEONE COMBINED WESLEY CRUSHER WITH JEAN RALPHIO

but LSKJFLEK at this random reminder that Bakugou refused to shake his fucking hand. like, that’s his “fun fact” apparently lol. it’s what he deserves

also living for this “cringe” here, too. fuck you Shindou. I am so, so sorry to any Shindou fans out there you guys because I’m just going to be like this the entire time he’s here. the hate is flowing through me

how has it been three whole pages and I still have to look at his stupid face

anyway so it seems like the kids are having to pick up the slack for Old Man Samurai and all those other assholes who retired. I’m guessing the U.A. kids will be seeing a lot more action as well

but in the meantime let’s hope no villains attack here all of a sudden, because all Tatami can do is make herself shorter while Shindou creates an earthquake to bring the entire building down around them dflkjslk

these guys don’t particularly want to go with them and I can’t say I blame them

so now Shindou is saying that yeah, they can probably handle the looters and such by themselves, but it’s a different story when it comes to the Noumu and the escaped Tartarus prisoners. Shindou how dare you make a reasonable point that I can’t immediately argue with

he says that one of the escapees was sighted in the area, so that’s why they’re trying to evacuate everyone

and the guy disagrees and says he doesn’t trust the heroes and thinks they’re pompous

fdskljk. fucking...

ME: Horikoshi can we please stop and get Deku HORIKOSHI: we have Deku at home THE DEKU AT HOME:

Horikoshi. please. we get it, the civilians don’t trust the heroes anymore. I UNDERSTAND. I COMPREHEND THIS. so unless there is some other point to this scene I respectfully ask that you hurry things along because omg

did Tatami always have this habit of speaking in meme language and such? I thought that was Camie’s thing but hey

listen, I’m here for anyone who’s willing to drag this man down into the depths of the earth. I would just also rather not spend the entire fucking chapter on this oh my god. Horikoshi do you have any more of those chapters where things happen in them?? those are good, I like those

YESSSSSS FINALLY

so whoever’s on the other end of the call (ETA: it’s that rock-looking guy who can harden anything that he touches. why does BnHA have so many hardening powers) is telling them to run because there’s apparently a villain heading right for them, oh my

WHO IS HE

depending on who it is I can’t promise I won’t be rooting for them over you, buddy

ohhhhhh shit

huh. well that’s... hmm... but on the other hand...

okay lol no, I know it’s bad. Muscular fucking LOVES murdering kids. not even Shindou deserves that. I’m sure he has a family that loves him and stuff. and Tatami seems like a sweet girl. they don’t deserve to be murdered

that is the question isn’t it? are we really going to spend the entire chapter with Limbs-Retracting-Girl and her boyfriend, Joseph Gordon-Levitt from (500) Days of Summer??

YES OMG

YES PLEASE CALL YOUR SENSEI. my god do you know what I would give to see Ms. Joke take down an S-class villain??

(ETA: all I’ll say is that we were robbed here, you guys.)

now Tatami is running away while Shindou stays behind omg

Horikoshi I know I said I hate the guy, and I do, but my god. seems I don’t hate him half as much as you do you. been nice knowing you Shindou my man

are you serious Tatami really ran all the way back up here to try and evacuate these guys one more time

SHE’S SUCH A GOOD PERSON omg if you assholes don’t listen to her you deserve to get murdered

BRO

HORIKOSHI DID YOU REALLY FUCKING DO IT I CAN’T BELIEVE IT

LOL OKAY NO, SO FAR HE’S ONLY MESSED UP HIS FACE

WHAT A SHAME WHAT A TRAGEDY. THE WORLD MOURNS

okay but seriously, now he has to be dead

r.i.p. Shindou. he died doing what he loved, talking a lot and being utterly useless

then again, damn Shindou are you really gonna come out here and be a badass?? gonna make me eat my words there kiddo?

I have absolutely no idea if I should expect this to work or not. all I know is that this is page 14, and so it would seem we really are going to spend the entire fucking chapter on fucking Shindou. this beautiful chapter had so much potential, Horikoshi. and now look at it. I hope you’re happy

nope it didn’t fucking work at all lmao

IT’S JUST LIKE I SAID. r.i.p. you pretentious handsome lump

OHHHHHH SNAP

DEKU YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO LOL. anyway but it’s good to see you!! it’s good to see ANYONE other than these guys sob but especially you

FINALLY SOMETHING COOL OMG

somehow Horikoshi actually made the bunny mask look badass?? I don’t think this is sustainable, but I am here for it while it lasts

Shindou should by all rights be nothing but A HANDSOME PASTE at this point lol but WHATEVER. it’s BnHA; getting smashed into walls and cliffs has more or less the same consequences as being set on fire. slap a band-aid on it and you’re good to go

we are REALLY ENDING IT HERE huh

well. and that’s it. I just did not care about any of that lmao. a rare dud of a chapter. well, but we’ve had something like ten in a row that ranged from “pretty good” to “amazing”, so I guess that’s fair

anyway I feel like I owe you guys something other than endless bitching and moaning, so! BONUS:

now this is more like it

first of all, I’m absolutely living for this promo’s “YEET THE CHILDREN OUT OF A HELICOPTER” vibes. FUCK YEAH WE’RE HEROES BITCH

is Deku wearing a jetpack/parachute?? let’s hope he is because I’m assuming he doesn’t have Float yet, so if that’s not a jetpack then it is a LONG WAY DOWN kiddo

these maniacs actually got Deku to wear something other than his red shoes holy fuck. I’m speechless. are we sure that’s not an imposter??

Shouto has the funniest falling position I’ve ever seen. I’m assuming his left arm is not in fact tucked under his leg like it appeared to be at first glance?? like, wtf is the outline of your body right now Shouto

this is what I think it is after careful analysis, but at first I thought this kid had some hidden contortionist abilities

and then there’s this guy

I MISSED YOU YOU BIG GOON. loving the new gauntlets!! and he’s changed up his impractical metal neck thingy into arm thingies! but most importantly, ARE THESE WHAT I THINK THEY ARE

ARE THOSE WEENIES. KACCHAN. KACCHAN HAVE YOU GONE NATIVE OMFG

and meanwhile, look who’s with them! Endeavor makes perfect sense of course, but Hawks is a very welcome surprise. does this mean we can expect to see Tokoyami too? because I would fucking love that

lastly, so this confirms the whole “world heroes” thing! which we all pretty much guessed anyway lol. I wonder if this movie will take place in another country (fingers crossed). the city in the background doesn’t look particularly familiar, but this image probably wasn’t meant to be analyzed in that way lol. anyways, looking forward to this so much, PLEASE GIVE US A TRAILER SOON omg

#bnha 307 #shindou you #nakagame tatami #muscular #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #bnha movie 3 #bnha world heroes' mission #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #'I never knew shindou was so popular' said horikoshi not understanding memes #'I guess I better give the people what they want'#smdh #this chapter should be called 'horikoshi's revenge'

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 3 years

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Blame Me- Chapter 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 5.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Cannibalism (thanks Terminus), reference to past major character death, detailed gore, canon typical violence, canon divergence, reference to past child death, angry Daryl (if that counts), Daryl being mean about religion( IG?)

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: I will warn you, I kind of got carried away with Chapter 4, so get ready for that tomorrow. This one felt a little rushed, but the ending is worth it (I hope!) Enjoy!

For once, Daryl was cursing himself for being right. Terminus had been too fucking good to be true. Ask too many questions, and apparently, you get eaten. He was lined up, with Glenn, Bob and Rick, and apparently, he was the only one fighting against them. They just sat there and let them tie them up for fucks sake. He couldn't die, not like this. He wouldn't die just to be someones damn meal. Daryl got shoved in front of a trough-like bowl that stretched before the other men who were on either side of him. One look from Rick and Glenn made him pause, and he glared right back, breathing heavily, but he stopped fighting. The room was deadly still as two people dressed in butchers outfit came in, and he went cold. Fuck. They walked to the opposite end, grabbing the hair of a blonde guy at the end and one smacked him with a baseball bat. Once he was out, the other slit his throat, and immediately panic arose, and Glenn started panicking beside him. This continued down the line until it got to Glenn, and Daryl felt the dread building and building in his stomach, watching the blood run through the trough. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Glenn's hair got pulled back, and Daryl could tell the younger man was already apologising to Maggie in his head. The first butcher raised the bat above his head but was stopped when the leader, Gareth walked through.

"Hey, guys, what were your shot counts?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand. The first guy answered almost instantly with "38" but the guy with the knife hesitated "Hey! Your shot count"

"Crap, man, I'm sorry. It was my first roundup," He sighed. Daryl had to resist making a face of disgust. How could they discuss these things so casually as if they weren't killing people for food right in front of them?

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells. Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow. Oh, and also, did you both register your reports on that girl who tried to escape the other day?" Gareth questioned, raising an eyebrow. Rick narrowed his eyes at the man, while Bob started wriggling, and making small noises to get his attention. Both butchers gave responses of yes simultaneously "Great."

"What happened to her?" One asked, but Daryl couldn't determine which. Didn't fucking care at this point.

"Kaylee's got her. She's a fighter, I'll give her that. She'll break eventually. Don't worry about it," Gareth shrugged.

God these guys really were another level of asshole. If eating people didn't qualify that enough.

"Hey, let me talk to you for a minute! Let me talk to you for a minute. Let me talk to you for a minute!"Bob exclaimed, muffled through the gag. What the hell was he doing? Gareth turned back with an exasperated sigh, crouching down in front of him and yanking the gag out.

"What?"

"Don't do this. We can fix this," Bob tried to reason.

"No, you can't," Gareth rolled his eyes and moved to put the gag back in Bob's mouth.

"You don't have to do this. We told you there's a way out of all this. You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington. You don't have to do this, man. We can put the world back to how it was," Now he was being stupid. Gareth was clearly a psychopath, there was no reasoning with a man like him. Daryl was, however, becoming increasingly aware of how long the guy at the end had been dead. He'd turn soon if they didn't deal with it.

"Can't go back, Bob," Gareth put the gag back in. Bob's eyes widened as he kept begging.

"We can! You don't have to do this!" Gareth rolled his eyes, turning to look at Rick instead. Daryl saw him stiffen, eyes hardening as he looked to the man who threatened his son. Gareth pulled the gag out and Rick held back a snarl, clutching the chunk of wood tighter

"We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it? You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart. Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now.," He suddenly grabbed Bob by the back of the neck and held a knife to his eye., but Rick didn't say anything. "What was in it? I'm curious. And it was a big bag. You really gonna let me do this?

"Well, let me take you out there I'll show you," Daryl watched the exchange carefully. Rick had started to go full Shane recently, and Gareth was messing with the wrong fucking guy.

"Not gonna happen. This might," Gareth moved the knife closer to Bob's eye, and he could see him trying not to flinch.

"There's guns in it. AK-47. .44 Magnum. Automatic weapons. Nightscope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you," Rick growled, glaring. The sharpened piece of wood he was holding was starting to make his hand bleed he was holding it so tightly.

Gareth only laughed, putting the gag back in "Thanks," He stood up and began walking back, calling to the two butchers "You have two hours to get them on the driers. I'm gonna go back to public face. Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown."

The butchers nodded, pulling their goggles and gloves back on, but just when they were about to get back to work, they heard gunshots ring out from outside. Gareth looked at the window puzzled before pulling the radio from his side. Glenn's breathing was getting rapid as the panic built back up. One of the butchers raised the bat again slowly.

"Hey, Chuck?" Another gunshot sounded, stopping the butcher. Daryl looked around, meeting Rick's gaze briefly before a loud explosion shook the ground, knocking them to the floor, so Daryl was on the back of Glenn's legs. He could see black smoke through the window, and he already knew that there would be a herd of walkers following through.

"Hey, what the hell was that? Do you copy?"Someone on the radio asked, sounding slightly scared.

"You stay here," Gareth commanded, beginning to walk out.

"Gareth these guys aren't going anywhere-"

"Stay here until I know what's happening!" Gareth screamed, running out. The butchers exchanged a frustrated look, but stayed put, rising from the ground. Daryl and Glenn had started rubbing their wrists together hoping to break the zip ties holding them down, and Glenn let out a noise of pain.

"So we just sit here?" Knife guy asked

"Got a job to do," the Baseball guy replied, nonchalantly. They stood there for a minute, not even noticing Daryl and Glenns escape attempt, but the knife guy started pacing as they heard more and more gunshots. They started bickering. Daryl didn't even fucking care anymore. He had to get out of these restraints and get his family out of this shit hole. But apparently, while the butchers had failed to notice him, he'd failed to notice Rick, as he came behind one of them and stabbed him in the temple, then moved and stabbed the other in the neck. Except he stabbed the guy in the neck over and over and over, showing that Rick style homicidal rage, that stopped Daryl in his tracks. Rick rushed over and used the stake to tear his and Glenn's bindings, eyes frantic. Daryl stood up, tugging the gag from his mouth in relief.

"Sounds like a damn war," He huffed, picking up one of the knives from the table while Rick cut Bob free.

"What the hell are these people?" Bob asked, scrambling to his feet.

"They ain't people," Daryl remarked, and for a split second, his mind flickered to his girl. That was something she'd say. Maybe she'd rubbed off on him. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to get out. Had to get them out. Bob went to stab one of the butchers in the head but Rick stopped him immediately.

"Don't. Let him turn."

The four men made their way out of the room, further into the slaughterhouse. They entered a room, where there were bodies hung up like animals, dried and headless. Daryl had never been someone with a weak stomach. Hell, all his years of hunting and the apocalypse had stopped that. But seeing the bodies made his stomach churn in disgust. Rick clearly had the same thought in mind.

"You cross any of these people, you kill them. Don't hesitate," He walked further in the room, Daryl following behind. He tucked the machete into his belt and picked up another knife and Rick looked over to him. "They won't."

Gunfire kept roaring from outside, and Daryl used his elbow to break off a chunk of metal from a machine. He didn't even want to know what it did. They reached the door and saw walkers crowded around a container, where some people were screaming for help inside, possibly some of Terminus' other hostages.

"If we run, we can get by them. They're distracted," Rick stated but Glenn shook his head.

"We got to let those people out. That's still who we are. It's got to be," Glenn replied, determined. Daryl didn't take his eyes off the walkers, knife out and ready to kill if he had to. There was a short pause, and Rick nodded, opening the door. All the noise from outside rose to an insane volume and it almost made Daryl's ears ache as he rushed out first, stabbing walkers, the rest of his boys right behind. It turned out the guy in the container was not only a member of Terminus but also absolutely batshit. They didn't have to worry about him long though - a walker took quick care of him, tearing out the muscles of his shoulder, as the guy screamed.

The place was overrun. There were walkers everywhere, and they weren't entirely sure how they were going to get out of this one. Daryl was more focused on keeping Glenn in place so he didn't do anything rash to get back to Maggie. He couldn't blame him. If (Y/N) were in that container still, he'd do something stupid to get back to her. Rick suddenly sprinted off, ignoring the groups' calls of his name. They watched as some of Terminus shot down a bunch of walkers, Rick crouched out of view behind a car. Daryl let out an annoyed growl. The damn fool was gonna get himself killed doing this. So, he followed after him, watching his back as Rick killed one of the Terminus men and stole his gun, using it to shoot walkers and Terminus alike. The walkers were helping to take out some of Terminus, but it was getting too full, and even Rick could see they wouldn't be able to get past all the walkers. He and Daryl ran back to Bob and Glenn, who looked pissed off that he'd run off again.

"We're gonna have to double back."

They made it back to the container their family was in and they pried the doors open. Daryl, Glenn and Bob were watching Rick's back as he instructed everyone, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne, Carl, Tara, Rosita, Eugene and Maggie, out of the box. But the annoying bastards just kept coming and coming. They were running out of time. Out of the corner of his eye, Glenn saw someone fighting a ginger woman. One of Terminus. The other woman was covered in walker's guts, using the disguising trick but he could see (H/C) hair. But he didn't think anything of it. She was probably just another hostage who was taking advantage of the situation. He couldn't worry about her now, he had to worry about his family. Daryl saw Carl and Rick talking for a split second before the chaos resumed, and they were fighting their way out, guts and blood spilling everywhere.

Anywhere you looked, there was a walker or a Terminus person. Daryl was leading, keeping his people safe from the front, and Rick was a the back. They were storming ahead, so so close to the fence. But Rick and Carl were slowing, from exhaustion and panic. Rick heard an awful yell from his son and spun around to see a walker gripping his sleeve and trying to pull his arm to its mouth. Rick went to rush forward, but the walker was suddenly dead, crumbling to the ground. Carls fearful eyes looked over and saw a woman, covered in guts, (H/C) sticking to her face and (E/C) eyes looking at him almost tenderly. Rick ran to his son, and pulled him away, staring the woman down. But she only narrowed her eyes and yelled "Go!" before disappearing into the crowd of walkers. Within seconds, she was gone. They didn't have time to dwell on it now. Gareth and the few members of Terminus that remained started shooting at them from the rooftop. They rushed through the rest of the walkers, ducking bullets and stabbing walkers and met their group at the fence. Daryl climbed over first, then Abraham lifted Eugene over, then Carl and the rest of the group, leaving himself for last.

When they were back at the bag, Daryl crouched down, taking a deep breath. Shit, that was way too close. They'd gotten lucky. Whoever had caused an explosion had saved their damn lives. And he didn't even know who it was. Maybe one of the idiots at Terminus had fucked something up and caused it. Or maybe someone was looking out for them. Hell if he knew. Hell if he cared anymore. His family was safe and that's all the mattered now. Rick started digging out the guns, mumbling out a plan as the rest of the group caught their breath, letting what just happened finally sink in. That is until Rick started talking about back to Terminus. They'd barely gotten out the first time! Some of the group started arguing back, but Daryl didn't give a shit anymore. He just leant against a tree, watching, listening.

A rustle of branches made him turn around and he froze, as the rest of the group did. They stared wide-eyed as Carol came out of the trees. They watched in amazement as Daryl sprinted over and dragged her into a tight hug, grasping onto her desperately and lifting her off her feet. She laughed lightly, grinning when he pulled back. Holy shit. She was alive. She was alive. She'd saved them. If anyone saw the tears running down his cheeks, no one said anything.

Daryl's feet were aching. The roads seemed to stretch on for miles. But the pain in his feet was nothing compared to the anger and undealt with grief. The losses were building up and up and he didn't know how much more he could take. Half the camp, Sophia, Dale, Shane (but no one really missed him), Patricia and Jimmy (though admittedly he didn't know them that well), Lori, T-Dog, Merle, Andrea, almost everyone who'd come to stay at the prison, Hershel, Bob, Tyreese... Beth. The only thing he was holding out hope for was his girl. Her ma lived in South Carolina, and with them being en route to Washington, he had to pray that maybe she made her way up there. Carl, Little Ass-Kicker and the hope of his girl were the only things keeping him going.

He'd started losing hope in his girl. Beth had died, and he'd been right fucking there. He was a hundred and more miles away from (Y/N). Now, she was strong, but he doubted she could live in a world like this. It'd destroy her. While he wanted to hold out hope and go looking for her, where would he even start? She could be anywhere by now, and there's no guarantee he'd even find her. An awful part of him wished she was dead. A disgusting, horrifying part of him, deep deep down, hoped she was dead so she didn't have to live a life like this. Didn't have to suffer like this. Deep down, Daryl knew she would hate the person he'd become. Probably hate him for what happened to Merle, too. He couldn't face that. He couldn't. Carol could see the way his eyes had drained. She could see what was happening. She was exhausted and hungry, but she wasn't blind.

She'd been hovering. Watching over him like a damn mother hen. He was getting sick and fucking tired of her constant gaze. He knew she only wanted what was best but god if he wasn't getting frustrated. Daryl could practically hear his girl's voice in his head, lecturing him about not being so cold to her, since Carol had done everything to protect him, and was his best friend. He snorted quietly at the thought of his girl standing there lecturing him, and being worried more about him and Carol than finding supplies. Sounded like her.

It was quiet now. No one spoke unless they had to. They were too weak. They hadn't had proper food in months, living off the little amount of food Daryl could hunt down, and the water was so scarce, some people were starting to get dizzy. Most of the food and water went to Judith and Carl now anyway. Everyone was hoping. Some, for the few that still believed in that shit, were even praying that we'd get some rain. But apparently, someone had seen them first and left them some water. Daryl and Rick eyed it suspiciously. Nowadays you could never be too careful. Abraham was still angry, but that wasn't anything new. That man was filled with more rage than anyone Daryl had ever met, except perhaps Merle. Shit, he missed that son of a bitch. Abraham was so angry that he smacked the bottle out of Eugene's hands when he went to take a sip. The atmosphere bristled, and Daryl could already tell an argument was about to start, and he shook his head, readjusting the bag and his crossbow. But it was all cut short when there were a few claps of thunder. Everyone looked up, hopeful glances being exchanged when the skies opened, and rain began pouring. Tara and Rosita started laughing, lying down on the floor, and some people opened their mouths to drink it before Rick ordered people to get out any bottles they had and filling them with the water. Daryl couldn't smile. He couldn't find enjoyment in it, and by the looks of it, neither could Sasha or Maggie. Every day it got harder or harder to meet her eyes. There was no blame on him, so he had no reason for guilt, but he couldn't help it. And it was eating away at him. Had been for the past three weeks.

The group were sat around a tiny fire, lightning flashing every so often and illuminating the room. Maggie was laying alone on the opposite end of the barn, and Carl was curled up behind Rick, clutching Judith to his chest. Carol walked over and plopped herself next to Daryl. Glenn was sat on his other side, engaging in an entirely different conversation. Daryl gave her a glance. She was staring at him, eyes narrowed like she was trying to read his mind, and it was starting to freak him out.

"You can't give up on her," Carol muttered, after a long moment of her staring him down. He scoffed, looking away. The hell did she know anyway. "You haven't given up yet, why give up now?"

"It's been nearly two years Carol. She's probably dead by now," He grumbled, watching the glint of his ring in the light of the fire. She shoved him lightly, her eyes moving to a glare.

"Don't talk like that," She snapped, quietly. Daryl kept his eyes on his ring, but he could feel the irritation starting to radiate off her. "You still wear your ring. You still carry that recorder. You've nearly broken a man's arm to get it back for god's sake. You can't give up on her. I won't let you."

For some reason, that got under his skin, and he could feel anger pouring in. It bubbled and boiled and his cold stare fixed on her so suddenly that Carol almost jumped.

"The hell ya gonna do to stop me?" He snarled. She didn't know shit about (Y/N) who the fuck was she to talk about his girl "You've never even met her. Ya don't know what she's like."

"No, I don't, but I know how much you love her. How much you're relying on her. And I can see how guilty you feel about Beth," Daryl was glaring now, and Carol understood she was walking into dangerous territory. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. But you can't start separating yourself from us, from (Y/N). You'll get yourself killed."

"What do you care? I ain't your responsibility," He growled before picking up his crossbow before walking to a corner of the barn. Carol watched him leave and made no move to stop him. Glenn gave her an alarmed look, only having heard the tail end of the conversation. Who the hell was (Y/N)? Carol shook her head, telling him not to push it and he reluctantly looked back to the others, who were still deep in conversation. She then noticed the little recorder where Daryl had been sitting. It had a few chips, and it was dirty as hell, but Daryl had gone through hell to keep it safe. Carol picked it up and spun it in her hands, before opening Daryl's bag, wrapping it in a bit of cloth and tucking it away.

How they'd managed to convince Rick, he had no idea. Though, in honesty, Daryl thought he would have jumped at the opportunity to be somewhere where Carl and Judith would be safe. But after Terminus, he couldn't blame the man for being sceptical. This guy, Aaron, there was something off about him. He couldn't put his finger on what. Either way, part of him was relieved to be out of that damn barn. Stunk of horse shit. But getting holed up in a car service place tucked into a wall with a guy with a broken ankle, wasn't exactly that much better. Daryl's family was safe. Rick's family was safe. That's what mattered. When dawn rolled around, he was startled to find himself actually hoping for this place to work. They didn't have many other choices if it didn't. They couldn't have another Terminus situation. They were all piled into the small RV and an even smaller car, and it was definitely too close quarters for Daryl to be comfortable. As usual, it went to shit when the battery went flat. Glenn was quick to use the skills that Dale had taught him to fix it up, but Daryl had taken refuge on the roof, looking out for walkers. He could feel Carol and Glenn's eyes on his back. He'd much prefer it if that could just fuck off rather than giving those annoying ass pity looks.

When they pulled up, they heard a noise they hadn't heard in a long time. Children laughing. It felt almost alien to them, and maybe this place could work out. There were no kids at Terminus. Barely any at Woodbury. If kids were having fun here, maybe they had a chance. Collectively, the group sucked in a breath as the gate started to pull back. When it opened, a ton of pristine houses were revealed down long roads, children running in the street. Aaron helped Eric limp inside and someone took him and started leading him off, presumably to the infirmary. A bristle in the bushes made the group snap over, and Daryl didn't hesitate on pressing the trigger and picking up the possum, presenting it to the man behind the gate.

"We brought dinner!"He declared, and he heard some of the group stifle chuckles and smiles. The man behind the gate looked at them warily.

"It's okay, Nicholas," Aaron reassured, placing his hand out "C'mon in guys."

Gradually, the group started wandering in, Glenn and Daryl in the lead, as Rick held Judith tightly.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all the hand over your weapons," Nicholas stated, eyeing Daryl carefully, who still held the possums tail "Stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick responded instantly, somehow still looking threatening even with a baby at his hip "If we were gonna use them, we would have started already."

"Let them talk to Deanna, first," Aaron turned his head to Nicholas but was turned back by Abraham, who had his shoulders squared.

"Who's Deanna?"

"She knows everything you wanna know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron advised, and Rick tilted his head. Daryl observed him, noticing the suspicion behind his eyes. Rick turned around at the sound of a walker snarling and signalled Sasha to take care of it. Headshot. Daryl tried to hide his smirk and the astounded look on Nicholas' face. Guy seemed like a jackass. He wanted to keep his eye on him.

The group were forced to sit outside on someone's porch (a house! what the fuck) while Rick was lead inside by a short, blonde-haired woman. She seemed innocent but she was hiding something. Daryl and Michonne could see it. In the way she held herself, the way she talked, the way she looked at them. When Rick came out about fifteen minutes later, Daryl was next to go in. He was still holding the possum, crossbow on his back as he was lead into the living room. It was nice. Untouched, as if the world hadn't ended outside the gates. He hadn't been in somewhere like this since before the apocalypse. Since (Y/N). He kept messing with random shit he could find. Pacing, restlessly. Deanna just sat on the couch opposite, her eyes following where he went. Acting like a damn hawk. She already pissed him off, and she hadn't even done anything. There was a video camera set up, recording everything. He had to thank Carol later for putting his back in his bag.

"You're welcome to sit, Daryl. I won't bite," Deanna finally said, and he looked up at her through long greasy hair, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm alrigh'" He replied quietly, turning to look at the bookshelf behind him. He didn't really know what he was doing, he just didn't want to have this awkward conversation and was trying to avoid it as long as possible.

"Daryl, do you want to be here?"She questioned, a touch of impatience in her voice but Daryl still didn't look at her.

"The boy and the baby. They deserve a roof. I guess," He answered, turning his ring with his thumb as it dangled by his side. Apparently, she didn't miss the motion.

"You're married?"

"Does it matter?" He shot back, voice becoming icy and there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"You'd be surprised," Deana smiled slightly and he glared back at her, his suspicion only raising further.

"The hell does that mean?" Daryl challenged, getting closer. She shook her head, smile dropping, before standing up and moving to turn the video recorder off.

"You're free to go."

"You okay?" Carl asked, making Daryl jump a little as he appeared at his side. Daryl knocked the brim of his hat, making Carl chuckle.

"That woman asks some weird questions," Was his reply, before he sat down, waiting for the others to finish their 'interviews'.

Rick looked between the two houses in amazement. He and Carl had left after Carl had finished talking, trusting Glenn and Maggie to look after his daughter. Aaron has whisked the pair away presenting them with the two houses they were giving the large group. He'd since walked away, walking down the road towards his house to look for Eric. Rick looked at his son, who had a grin on his face at the promise of being in a house again. Carl looked out after Aaron. A woman, maybe a little younger than Rick rushed out as Aaron neared, and wrapped her arms around him. Even from the distance, he could see the relief on her face and Aaron laughed lightly before leading her back inside. He was sure he'd find out who that was later.

Rick had insisted on staying in one house for the time being, just for safety, but Daryl wasn't complaining. He'd rather his family be together if they couldn't have their weapons. He felt almost naked without his crossbow. And he'd made very good work of pretending not to see Carl's knife. Smart kid. Daryl was sat next to Little Ass Kickers crib, peering over it protectively as Michonne came back through from the bathroom. She and Rick exchanged a hushed conversation when a knock at the door sounded, and Deanna walked in. She started talking but paused when she saw everyone huddled together rather than being separated. She gave some bullshit speech on family and how amazing it was, and Daryl rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it.

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, but it sounded more like a question and Deana made a hum of agreement.

"It's part of this place. Looks like the Communists won after all," God if someone didn't put a bolt through her brain soon Daryl swore to whatever was up there he would. Rick gave a polite smile but it was strained.

"Well, you didn't give me one," He stated

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out, but I will," Daryl scoffed at that. Yeah, it took his group two years and they still haven't. Good luck with that. Deanna gave Daryl a smile, but it felt condescending. She looked back up at Rick "You look good."

And she was gone.

The group took off the next morning, going to explore, but Daryl stayed on the porch. Rick exited, raising his eyebrows at the redneck.

"They said explore. Let's explore," He almost commanded but he was smiling. First time in a long time.

"Naw, I'll stay," Daryl said, shifting. Deanna had dropped by earlier this morning and handed him his crossbow. He was still extremely confused as to why but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Rick sighed, closing the door behind him.

"C'mon brother. Just come with us for a few minutes. Then you can come back here and brood all you like. Just pretend for a few minutes," Rick teased. Daryl scowled but Rick could see the playfulness in his eyes. It was nice, seeing Daryl slightly more at ease even if he was struggling to settle.

There was a long pause before Daryl gave a grunt of agreement, grudgingly picking up his crossbow and shoving it on his back. The pair jogged to catch up with the others, soon falling into the crowd of their family. They saw Aaron coming out of his house and Maggie raised a hand in a small greeting. He stepped over and the group started chatting. Daryl could tell the recruiter was hoping to clear the water a little bit. He didn't seem like a bad guy but Daryl couldn't let his guard down. But then someone followed out of Aaron's house, walking out onto the road and looking over to the family with a gleeful smile. Carl waved at her, recognising her from yesterday and she waved back. But the smile dropped, and Daryl froze in place like a statue. Carol noticed how stiff he'd gone beside her and followed his eyes and she froze too. A small smile climbed onto her lips. He couldn't breathe. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.

"Daryl?"

But it was, she was right there. (H/C) hair blowing in the slight breeze and her eyes sparkling with building tears. Holy shit.

(Y/N).

His (Y/N).

Carol watched as the crossbow fell from his shoulder and Daryl shoved past his group and sprinted. He didn't think he'd moved so fast in his whole damn life because he blinked and all of a sudden, she was stood right before her. She stood there, taking him in. He couldn't breathe. She was there. She was right there. And he lunged for her, pulling her into him tightly, and placing a hand on the back of her head protectively. He could feel her fingers digging into his skin through his jacket, and he knew he couldn't let her go even if he wanted to. She was alive. She was here! Daryl wasn't a crier, that was for sure, but hell, he couldn't stop the relieved sobs he was letting out into her neck. She was whispering to him, though a trembling voice, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He just felt her, her breath on his neck, his fingers on his back, her hair tickling his nose, her tears on his chest.

"Holy shit, "Was all he could get out, and (Y/N) let out a weepy laugh, pulling back just enough so she could see his face. Her hands moved to hold his face, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I am going to kill you, Dixon," she grinned, before pulling him into a hard kiss. He held onto her, even as the outside world started coming back to him. As he heard the confused voices of his family and Aaron. As he heard the joyful, but the slightly teary voice of Carol.

He just held onto her.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (32)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

When you make a deal, you have to make sure that both parties respect their share. usually that’s the case, but sometimes some people decide to... play differently. And when it starts to play differently, to play personal ... The finality is never good. Often, the one who wants to betray the other ends badly, sometimes it’s the one who respects who ends badly and sometimes both suffer. In Danny's case, he knows that the deal will be respected between the two of you.

He knows perfectly well that you will respect your share of the deal. And he's going to respect his own. He would have liked to wait a little longer before revealing everything to you but... it seems that fate has speed things up. It doesn't bother him that much, it's just a shame that it happens so early. With what he told you once your deal was made... You will not dare to betray him.

* I didn't have, and I don't really want to know YOUR world. * You said with disgust.

* No one wants to enter in it sweetheart. But one day or another, you end up getting into it, one way or another. But on the other hand, if I may say so, it would be better for both of us if Jed were not aware of it. Imagine the disappointment he would have, if he learned that his little treasure collaborated with a murderer! Me in addition, the assassin of Roseville. * Danny said tragically ironic.

* He'll know! I cannot lie to him and betray all the trust he has in me! He knows it when I'm not well, he...*

*Listen, Honey. You have an interest, that your nerdy boyfriend doesn’t know anything about what’s happening between us. Because if he ever learns it, not only does your little couple stop before it has really started... but in addition your two lives will stop too. For I would no longer keep my promise to leave him alive. And so do you. Did I make myself understood correctly? * Replied Danny, taking your face by the chin with one hand. He released you when you nod. *Good. You have all the cards in hand, and two lives. Let's see if you get to the end of the game. *

If with this you dare not keep your word, either you be stupid or suicidal. Or both. Today, you will both visit the apartment that is above yours. The perspective to share the same roof with you, delights him and annoys him a little. He is delighted to be able to live with you, to no longer be forced to go to your apartment, even if you are right next door, to see you. And at least, no more problem knowing who will end up in the other's bed, you will have your room for both of you.

But it also annoys him because necessarily, who says to live together ... means that you could, driven by curiosity, enter his office, and discover everything. Oh of course you'll know, when he will tell you everything, when he will finally show his face, but if you could wait until Hoggins is dead... it would suit him. He's going to have to work out a couple of things with you. Just like you will surely do with him! But apart from leave you a little privacy and don’t dig into your wardrobe ... He doesn’t know what you could ask him.

He was waiting for you outside the door of the apartment, Mr Lawson having given the keys to visit while waiting for him to arrive. The poor man had to take care of his wife who was bedridden because of a flu. Poor woman. She was always kind to Danny, always worried about whether he had everything he needed to not get sick, and to treat himself if needed. She was a kind of maternal figure for Danny involuntarily. The mom he wished he had... When he saw you arrive, he displayed his angelic smile, and took you in his arms to kiss you.

“Mr Lawson will be there in a few minutes, his wife is sick so he takes care of her a little, but he gave me the keys to visit the apartment already. We'll see for the work after when he’ll be there.” he said, looking at you softly.

“Poor woman...I hope she’ll be better soon.” you simply said.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! It’s just... I'm a little stressed with everything that's happening to me right now... the festival, the fact that we move in together. I feel like I'm going to have a hard time managing all of this all at once.”

“That’s why I'm here, sweety. think of the festival, I will take care of the apartment. And don't worry, it doesn't bother me. Ready?”

You nod and Danny opened the door to the apartment. He let you pass so that you would not see the sneaky little smile that was looming on his lips. When you want, you know how to lie. Just give you some motivation for. The apartment was rather comfortable, it will be even more so when the furniture will be there, but it’s comfortable. There were quite a few pieces, including one that could serve as an office for Danny. That he will lock of course. He will have to think about scotching his boxes well too... The bedroom was a little larger than the others, two wardrobes being on either side of the wall where the bed will be.

“It's pretty here... I don’t see any particular problem at the level of the works apart from redoing the paintings to our tastes.” You said, looking all around the room.

“For now. But it’s better to look carefully. You never know, there can be electrical problems... or water leaks.” responds Danny, before noticing a few holes in the wall of one of the wardrobes. “See?”

“OK. we're going to do each room and we're going to write down what's wrong.”

Together you inspect all the rooms of the apartment and gradually write down everything that was wrong. There were the holes in one of the wardrobes in the bedroom, a plug that does not work in the living room and another in the kitchen, a slight water leak in the bathroom at the sink and finally a slightly damaged floor in Danny's future office. Mr. Lawson arrived a few minutes later, his wife took a nap after eating a little. Danny explained all the problems there were, the old man assuring him that every problem will be solved and that you can move in safely.

You all leave the apartment and Mr. Lawson warns Danny that he will start work as soon as his wife is better. Danny replied that if he had to, he would take care of the work, he would just need the equipment. Once Mr. Lawson left, Danny turned to you to take you in his arms.

“Do you have something planned for today? We could take the opportunity to take a little tour …" asks Danny.

“We could... But I had planned to see with Corey and Amy to start making this cake for the city festival.” you respond.

“You’ve got two weeks for that...”

“And I've got all my life for you.”

Danny smiled before hearing his phone ringing. It was Wilhelm. What did he want from him?

“Inspector?” said Danny.

“Olsen. We caught the man who was talking with Hoggins. It’s better for you if you’re there for the interrogation. That way, you will have the info directly at the source.” responds Wilhelm.

“I arrive immediately inspector.” replied Danny before hanging up. “Sorry love. I've to go. Wilhelm stopped the man who was with Hoggins three days before his argument with McKellan. He wants me to be there to record the news.”

“Good luck then. This kind of guy doesn't speak so easily. And there's a good chance he'll say anything.” you said with a smile.

“You know Wilhelm is maybe an asshole... but he is very good at making someone speak during an interrogation. He has.... very good arguments. See you later honey.”

Danny set out for the police station. It’s still surprising that Wilhelm called him. In a sense, it will actually be able to collect the information directly at the source. And in the other, Wilhelm will not have to tell him. Surely that’s why he called. So that he doesn't bother repeating everything to Danny. What a lazy ass. Danny arrived at the police station, presented himself to the policeman of the reception who pointed to him the interrogation room where Wilhelm and the man were. He knocked on the door and entered when the inspector gave him permission.

“Wilhelm.” said Danny.

“Olsen." Responds Wilhelm.

“He said something?”

“We haven’t started the interrogation. But you can already take notes on his file. We know him. This is not the first time he has been arrested.”

“it's surprising that you called me by the way. Knowing that we can't stand each other.”

“True. But it's... urgh, it’s thanks to you that we managed to catch this guy. So, I give you back the device by allowing you to attend the interrogation for your newspaper article. But I warn you Olsen. This is the first and last time. Don’t hope that this happens again.”

“You are too kind. I can't wait to see what I can get out of it.”

Wilhelm sighed before heading to the other part of the interrogation room, where the man was. He had everything from a notorious drug dealer. He looked elsewhere, swinging a little back and forth, a typical symptom of a slight lack of drugs.

“Devon. What a surprise. It’s...the fifth time maybe from the beginning of the month? You try to beat a record?” said Wilhelm, sitting in front of the man.

“Shut up Wilhelm.” Responds Devon.

“Oh. Usually, you are more... aggressive with me from the start. Sometimes I don't even have time to sit down that I'm already on the verge of breaking your mouth. What happens to you, are you sick?”

“Go straight to the point, dirty cop asshole, why am I here? I have not sold any drugs today. And I made no one shit.”

“Ah, there I find my Devon.” replied Wilhelm before showing the picture Danny took. “Surely you're aware that Horace McKellan is dead huh? You surely also know that Hoggins threatened him 3 days before his death. Well, this little picture was taken a few days before the threats. You're very photogenic tell me, I love your profile face.”

“What’s the report?” asks coldly Devon.

“I want to know what you were talking about with Hoggins on the day of this photo. And I advise you not to play asshole with me. Because if I ever find the slightest trace of your passage at McKellan's house, it’s life imprisonment that you will take as a sentence. I am sure that your mother will be heartbroken.”

“Leave my mom f***ing alone!”

“So tell me everything you know! And I assure you that we will try to arrange your sentence according to your participation in this crime.”

Devon looks at the photo, slightly biting his tongue before blowing and facing Wilhelm.

“Hoggins was furious on the phone. He asked me to come and see him that day. He thought that his associate had betrayed him in relation to this scandal to save himself the balls. He wanted... He wanted to hire me to take care of him. He said to me, and I quote: This bastard is going to fuck everything up! He MUST disappear! and YOU will take care of it. He was willing to pay me $2,000,000 for it. I refused. ” he explains.

“With such a price you refused to kill? You will understand that I find it hard to believe.” said Wilhelm looking at Danny on the other side of the tinted glass.

“You may think what you want from me Wilhelm, drugged, failed, waste of society, but I'm not a f***ing killer. I left, telling him that I couldn’t kill a man who did nothing to me. He told me nothing. And 6 days later I learn that McKellan is dead. I told myself that he had finally found a guy crazy enough to do the job.”

Danny carefully noted everything Devon was saying, holding back from smiling. That's exactly what he needed to hear. And this will make the rest of his plan even more delectable. Hoggins is good for prison... unless Danny kills him before. Which, of course, is going to be the case in 2 weeks. Your name is going to be cursed over several generations Hoggins, you're screwed.

“He contacted you again after that?” asks Wilhelm.

“No. I didn't hear from him... until recently. He contacted me because he wanted to offer me another job. But when I arrived, he was irritated.” responds Devon.

“Why?”

“Two journalists from the Roseville Gazette, including one whose name was...how did he tell me already? Olsen, I think, came to interview him in relation to all this.”

Danny suddenly raised his head. Devon was therefore the famous important appointment that Hoggins had and that pushed him to shorten the interview. Why strangely it didn't shock him?

“What did he say?” Continues Wilhelm.

“At first, when I got him on the phone, he wanted us to discuss the drug business. But when I arrived, he got upset because this Olsen had provoked him on a bunch of stuff. I told him that it was the journalists, that it was normal for them to do this kind of practice. But he was so irritated that he didn't even hear that. What he made him shit the most was that this guy, Olsen, was dating a girl that Hoggins called "his bird of paradise". That it was out of the question for a "parasite" like Olsen to put his dirty paws on her. He told me that the girl in question was the boss of Nebula, the café that opened recently.”

Danny's blood only made one turn. Being called parasite, he didn’t care completely. But this dirty big pig, dares to consider you as HIS property? It's too much. You are only HIS and His ALONE.

“He told you something else?” Wilhelm said.

“He wanted me to go and scare this girl to leave Olsen. Nothing very nasty in itself. But here too I refused. I just want to do my business quietly, that's all.”

Wilhelm nod and leave the room to discuss with the other officers. Danny had stood back, pretending to reread his notes. With rage in his stomach, he thought of only one thing; Kill Hoggins. And it could happen faster than he had anticipated.

If Hoggins wants to play this game, if Hoggins is looking for war... He found it.

Unfortunately for him, he attacks the wrong person.

And he’s gonna pay for it.

***

(And it’s done! Summer Vacation is coming and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as you can! In this period of pandemic which unfortunately forced us to deprive ourselves of some things such as outings with friends and others, it’s time for all of us to enjoy this summer while remaining alert, hoping that it is finally over. I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

Flying True

Title: Flying True

(formerly ‘True’)

Author: Gumnut

2 – 8 Aug 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: It was the core philosophy of International Rescue. And he broke it.

Word count: 5571

Spoilers & warnings: Angst, injury, blood, some language

Timeline: Standalone

Author’s note: Nutty’s Fandomversary Fic Nine – Prompt: Scott and ‘stay gold’ for @lightning1999 thank you for all your wonderful support :D

This one was stubborn and I had to fight like crazy. Many thanks to both @scribbles97 and @vegetacide for their patience and reading. This ‘ficlet’ took an entire week to write ::glares at it:: There is an optional epilogue that I might post later, but for the moment this is the entirety of the fic. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He cradled his brother.

Virgil was limp beneath his hands, barely breathing, blood dribbling down his cheek, the remains of the bubbling cough that had sent him under.

“John, tell me the GDF are coming.” His own voice was harsh in his ears.

“They’re not coming.”

“Please, John.”

“Trust me, I have tried.” His brother’s voice was filled with the same desperation in his own.

“We need evac and the bastard is still here. Can’t they-“

“Scott! He’s done his homework, you’re now in a no-fly zone. Aunt Val has them on the ground, but it is going to be over an hour.”

“They can’t-“ I can’t, I can’t...

The warmth seeping out between his fingers was determined, pulsing with Virgil’s heart. God, please, no.

“There is no rescue, Commander Tracy.” The ‘commander’ came out as snarl. “Not unless you would like to invite another of your brothers to this little party?”

There were two snarls and a forceful expletive over the comm line.

“Or perhaps a sister? A grandmother would be interesting. Then there is that little mastermind of yours. I’d be very interested in meeting him.”

“No...nothing.” It was rasped and little more than a whisper.

“Virg, stay still.” His brother’s eyes were fluttering, desperately trying to open.

“Don...don’t let him.”

“He won’t, I promise.”

“And what exactly do you think you can stop me from doing?”

Scott didn’t answer. The presence of his brother was the only thing stopping him from planting a fist in the bastard’s face.

That and the gun that had already shot Virgil in the chest.

The call had come in just after the sun had disappeared over the horizon on Tracy Island. Tourist fallen in an abandoned gas mine in the middle of the Australian Outback.

It was pure chance that Scott had chosen to go with Virgil. It had been a rare night with just the two of them on the Island and they had been looking forward to a little alcohol and brotherly bonding. Didn’t happen often.

Didn’t happen tonight.

It was obviously a Thunderbird Two call out, but Scott, used to it but no less annoyed, was determined to spend the evening with his brother. Thunderbird One followed her sister off the Island and the sun rose in the west.

As per usual, Scott hit ground before Virgil, but had to wait for the green behemoth because she held the equipment needed. A jeep sat abandoned not far off. Scans of the hole in the ground revealed the single life sign John had reported.

Part of the mine had caved in.

The job required heavy lifting and Virgil donned his suit and down he went. Twenty minutes later, Scott was assisting a shaken tourist to his feet as Virgil climbed out of the hole in the ground.

The man stared up at Scott and a smirk curled his lips. “Him, I expected. You, not so much. But then that is fortunate, because you might be worth just that little bit more.” And the ‘victim’ pulled a gun and shot Virgil point blank.

Scott would never forget the surprise on his gentle brother’s face, the shock, quickly followed by the pain.

And his suited body falling back over the lip of the mine.

The suit.

The exo-suit.

Apparently, the bastard hadn’t counted on that piece of hardware either.

Virgil was rigged for cave and mine rescue. His left arm came up and his built-in grapple gun fired. The target, his own ‘bird. The grapple thunked and instead of plummeting into the abyss, his falling body pivoted on one foot and was dragged past his attacker, coming to rest in a heap beside Scott.

God.

He didn’t hesitate, fumbling at his brother’s suit, turning him over.

The neat hole in his uniform was ringed in a fast spreading halo of red.

“Shit, that hurts.” More breath than anything else.

“Stay still.” Virg, oh god. Ribcage. His paramedic training came to the fore. Pressure, elevate, prevent air getting into the lung cavity...

“I wouldn’t bother. He is going to die. And if he doesn’t, well, I’ll make sure he does.” The gun came up again.

“No, oh god, no, don’t!” He threw himself across his brother. Please, no. How had this happened so quickly? A night of brotherly chat and now they were lying in the dust of a godawful desert with some asshole trying to kill them.

“Hmm.” The gun was casually waved through the air above them. “Maybe you are right. He could be useful.”

“What the hell do you want?”

“Want? Money. Simple as that. You have it, I want it. All I need is one of you and the rest will pay. Hell, the world will pay for one of the Tracy brothers. God awful saviours of humanity.”

Scott didn’t think it was possible to get angrier. Apparently, it was. “You lured us here with a fake rescue in order to kidnap and hold one of us for ransom.”

“You’ve got it in one. You are billionaires, after all. A couple billion should be enough for the eldest Tracy, shouldn’t it.” The gun gestured in Virgil’s direction. “If he lives, an extra few million wouldn’t hurt.”

Virgil shuddered under his hands and attempted to pull himself out of his exo-suit. His fingers brushed the buttons that released his uniform and the frame slipped off his body. A groan and he had one arm out before the gunman started waving the weapon around again. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Ne-need to breathe.” It ended in a gasp and then Virgil was coughing.

Scott reacted, ignoring the threat and pulling off his brother’s helmet, attempting to free him from the suit’s framework.

Blood dribbled out the corner of Virgil’s mouth as his eyes rolled up in his head and his body fell limp.

“Virgil!”

Elevate, pressure, prevent air from getting into the lung cavity...

He gently lifted his brother into his arms, propping him up and rolling him onto his side, his head resting against Scott’s chest.

Check breathing, pulse...c’mon, Virgil, don’t do this...

“Is he dead yet?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hoo, the role model of a generation has a tongue on him after all.” The bastard crouched down and sat back on his heels. “Oh, if you think the GDF will be coming to save your asses, think again.” The man held up a control device and pressed a button. The ground rumbled and shook. The plain around them cracked in places, soil collapsing in on itself. A haze drifted across the ground. “Ah, the wonderful fragrance of hydromethane in the evening.” The man smirked. “You’re not going anywhere in those rockets of yours and no one is flying in.” The smirk became a grin. “This abandoned mine network has just enough left to create a lovely cloud of flammable gas for your entertainment. Now, tell that Eye in the Sky brother of yours that they can have you back in mostly one piece if they transfer the money to an account number I will give you shortly.”

So followed a negotiation with Thunderbird Five that sported more expletives than he had ever heard from his quiet brother. Two other brothers were looped into the conversation on delay. Gordon and Alan were on Mars chasing up that professor who had discovered the underground rivers of Mars and then promptly got himself stuck in one. Kayo’s colourful expressions were launched from the far side of the Arctic circle. She was caught up with the Chaos Crew, but dropped everything immediately and was tearing across the planet as they spoke.

She wasn’t going to get there fast enough.

And neither was the GDF.

“John, tell me you can get an ident on this guy.”

“I’ve been trying. Could be a holographic mask for all the result I’m getting. Eos is hacking the GDF intelligence division as we speak.”

Shit. “Be careful.”

“We will do what we need to do, Scott.”

He closed his eyes for just a moment.

The earth rumbled under him and suddenly everything was shaking. Metres to his left the soil collapsed and a crack opened up, gaping to the sky.

The gunman clambered to his feet. The smell of hydromethane increased. Scott coughed and Virgil’s breathing staggered. Hell.

“We’ve got to move.”

Their assailant didn’t answer. He stood staring at the crack, puzzlement on his face.

The earth gave a deep-seated groan and shook again, more cracks appearing.

A blink and the dirt beneath the man’s feet collapsed, taking him with it.

Scott froze for a split second before tightening his hold on Virgil and scrambling backwards as the newly formed crack tracked its way towards the two brothers. The abandoned exo-suit half slipped into the crevice.

The movement aggravated Virgil, the younger man coughing weakly into Scott’s chest, crimson splattering on the blue of his uniform. “Sc-t.”

“Hell, Virg, sorry. Need to get you onto Two.” The gun was gone. They were free. It was the only fact registering on his mind.

“Help!”

Scott wasn’t game to leave Virgil out here so he could grab a stretcher. The ground was still groaning. Moving him was going to be unsafe, but he couldn’t leave his brother out here with the very ground falling around them.

But he could drag him.

“Help me! Please!”

Easing his brother into a secure grip, hands under his arms, he relied on Virgil’s tough uniform to take the brunt of the abrasion and carefully began dragging his brother towards Two.

“God, please help me! I’m bleeding!”

Virgil groaned as they moved, his head falling against Scott’s arm. “Sc-t needs help.”

“It’s okay, Virgil, we’re nearly there.”

“Please help me!”

“Needs help.” Virgil attempted to sit up. “Sc-t needs help.” His brother’s voice was little more than a rasp. Blood bubbled on his lips. “Need to h-lp.”

“Stay still!”

“Needs help. Got-ta h-lp.” His hand came up and hit his comms. “J-hn, situation.”

“Virgil!” He stopped, crouched down and gathered his brother in his arms, the man was likely suffering hypoxia. A quick check of his vitals had no good news.

“Scott, I’m reading surface instability for at least a kilometre radius.” There were unspoken questions in John’s words. “You need to get out of there.”

“John.” His voice was a harsh rasp almost as bad as Virgil’s. “The bastard fell in a hole.” He leveraged Virgil gently and began dragging him again. His brother was restless, muttering about help and rescue.

“God, please don’t leave me!”

The nerve...Scott killed the thought as Virgil responded to the voice in the distance, again struggling to sit up. He held him firm, finally reaching down to activate his brother’s holographic interface on his left arm, commanding the ship to lower its hatch.

It did so with the familiar clunk and hiss.

He dragged his brother aboard.

“Please don’t!” It was faint now and once the hatch was swallowed by TB2 it was shut out.

The only sound remaining was Virgil’s bubbling breath.

“Sc-t, need t-sve.”

“C’mon, bro, let’s get you safe.”

“Safe, need to safe.” Virgil’s eyes were barely open, his body limp in Scott’s hands.

He gently lay his brother on his side and pulled down the gurney. Activating its hoverjets and disengaging it from the wall, he lowered it to the deck and manhandled his brother on to its padded surface. A gentle motion and he redocked it.

Alarms started screeching immediately.

Oxygen, elevate, stop the bleeding, manage the air intake, watch for tension pneumothorax, get him to a hospital...

Get him to a hospital.

Thunderbird Two has something her sister did not.

She had wheels.

His brother continued to mumble, his head moving in aggravation. Scott secured him to the bed and primed the monitors to alert him to any changes.

Two steps and he was in his brother’s pilot’s chair. Flipping switches, he brought the giant cargo plane to life and rigged her for extended taxi.

She wasn’t built for this. Taxiing on a runway, yes. Across rock strewn desert sand? Not so much. She didn’t have a great deal of clearance and Virgil would likely kick his ass for the damage this little trip was going to cause, but there was no choice.

Choice.

His heart hardened.

As if reading that heart, his brother moaned. “S-tuation, need to h-lp Scott, need to help.” The words faded into a bubbling cough.

Scott engaged the engines and TB2 turned her back on the danger zone. A shift in the controls and his brother’s big green bird made her escape.

-o-o-o-

It took forever.

A forever punctuated by struggling breath and mumbled words that faded to unconsciousness. But as soon as the hydromethane concentration dropped below the explosive mark, Scott engaged VTOL, lifting the great ship off the abrasive desert floor. Enough clearance and the Thunderbird breathed her name as he kicked in her rear thrusters. She shot forward as if elated to be free from the godawful ground. Course allocation and their ETA shrunk from hours to minutes as they targeted the Western Australian city of Perth and her medical facilities.

Minutes.

And he was requesting landing clearance from Australian Air Control.

Minutes.

Two’s great landing feet sunk into the turf of the elegant gardens in front of Royal Perth Hospital.

Minutes.

Moving his terrifyingly still brother from his cockpit to the hands of medical staff.

Minutes.

Thunderbird Shadow landing beside her sister. Kayo darting out of her ‘bird, worried eyes catching his. Her gloved hand on his cheek as they turned to follow their brother into the massive hospital building.

Hours.

Plastic chairs. The inevitable media shitstorm. Police. Colonel Casey. Questions.

John appearing at his shoulder, fire in his eyes.

And finally, sudden quiet as his brother corralled him into an empty room and shut the world out.

Quiet except for the blood pressure roaring in his ears.

The soles of his uniform footwear peeled off the linoleum as he paced.

Back and forth.

“He is still in surgery.” The sentence said more than it said.

“I know.” John stood quietly to one side. Kayo was off organising security for their brother, terrorising hospital staff in the process.

“He just shot him.” Simple words, so much pain. “For money. The bastard just wanted money.”

Back and forth.

“He didn’t have to shoot him. Why did he shoot him? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, he won’t be doing it again. Our lawyers will see he pays.”

“Scott-“

“God, what if Virgil doesn’t fully recover? What if he can’t...” No, Virg would be okay. He had to be. “I’ll show the bastard exactly what that money can do.”

Quiet. “Scott, he’s dead.”

It took a moment for John’s words to register. “What?”

“Virgil’s assailant died shortly after you left. The hole he fell into collapsed, he was buried and suffocated. The GDF are on recovery. It is going to take a while for the gas to dissipate. We won’t be able to retrieve Thunderbird One until at least the day after - woah, Scott!”

His legs were suddenly jello and unable to support him. His heart was in his throat and breathing was impossible. His brother’s hands caught him, dragging him across the room to a chair. His butt hit plastic and a pair of turquoise eyes filled his vision.

“Scott, you with me?” Cool, ever calm, John’s voice was a balm.

Blink.

“I ignored him. I could have saved him.”

“You had to get Virgil out. You did everything you could.”

He shook his head and the world spun just that little off kilter. “No, no, I didn’t. I heard him. He needed saving. But I...didn’t.”

Those turquoise eyes flinched. “You did what you had to do.”

Voice raw. “He hurt Virgil.” A swallow. “I hated him. Dad-“

No, Dad would have saved him anyway. Everyone deserved to be rescued. That was the core philosophy of International Rescue. That was what Dad believed. That was what Scott believed.

Had believed.

“John, what have I done?”

“What you had to do.”

“I left a man to die.”

“Virgil rescued him, Scott. The guy shot him. You have every right to refuse him. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have injured you as well? He broke up the gas field. He created the situation that endangered both of you as well as himself. You have no obligation to save such a person, especially when another’s life is at risk as well as yours.”

The words were logical, but they just didn’t equate to the hole in his gut where his belief used to lie. He had been tested, sorely tested, and had failed to fly true to the mission.

He had failed.

His head dropped into his hands.

-o-o-o-

His usually bigger than life brother was so small against the white sheets. Face half hidden by an essential oxygen mask, Virgil was pale as a ghost and just as silent.

Scott sat beside his bed and simply stared at him. John sat next to him, worry emanating from the astronaut in waves.

Scott hadn’t spoken an unnecessary word to John in the last hour. The taste of failure was raw and bitter in his throat and it strangled any words that tried to escape.

Virgil had made it through surgery and his doctors were optimistic for a full recovery. It would be slow and his brother would be out of action for weeks, but he would recover.

He would.

Scott reached out a hand and caught his brother’s limp fingers. He brushed across familiar calluses and the cut on his palm where a screwdriver had slipped last week. Virgil had sworn a blue streak over that and scared the crap out of Gordon who had been in the hangar with him at the time.

How many people had that hand saved? How many times had it been offered in help?

Virgil wouldn’t hurt a soul. Hell, the man stepped over ant trails and released insects caught in the house. He was a gentle man who only wanted to help.

That was why it hurt so much. Why Scott had turned his back on their assailant, and on everything he believed.

Not everyone was worth saving.

He closed his eyes.

“Scott?” John was ever so hesitant.

“What would you have done?”

“Exactly what you did.”

He opened his eyes and turned to face John. “Why? Because he is our brother? Because he is Virgil?”

“Scott, I would have done it for anyone, especially a brother. That man forfeited his rights by breaching yours and Virgil’s. You did the right thing.” John grabbed his arm as if to transmit the intensity in his eyes through touch. “If you didn’t, Virgil could have died and that...is not acceptable.”

Not acceptable.

“Dad-“

“Is not here. Did not experience the situation. And...” An indrawn breath. “...He would have done exactly the same thing.”

Scott stared at his brother, part of him desperate to believe, part of him horrified that his father might breach the golden rule.

“And what would Virgil have done?” Perhaps that is what he feared the most. The derision in his brother’s eyes. The loss of faith, of trust.

“V-Virgil, would k-kick y’r ass.” It was raspy and broken, but so Virgil, Scott’s heart lurched. Damp eyelashes let out a glimpse of brown aimed directly at their eldest brother. The oxygen mask fogged as Virgil struggled to concentrate. “J-hn? Wh-t happened?”

“Hey, Virgil.” John answered when Scott’s voice stuck in his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” A slow blink, heavy with medication and sleep. “Wass wrong w- him? Whys he upset?”

“You were injured. Of course, Scott is upset. You know what he is like.”

“I-diot. N-t your fault, Stupid. K-ick y-r ass.”

Okay. So that was familiar, if less subtle than usual.

“Saved me. Always s-saves m-me.” Those eyelids drooped, but his brother was fighting the medication.

Scott realised he still had his brother’s hand in his and squeezed gently. “Rest, Virgil. You can kick my ass later.”

“Will ki- y-r ass. Stup-d. Al-ways blmes yurs-lf.” His words reduced to unintelligible syllables, Virgil’s eyes slipped closed and he drifted off again.

“I find it very interesting that the first thing Virgil thinks of upon regaining consciousness is all about kicking your ass.”

Scott didn’t pick up the jibe. He stared at his unconscious brother. His fingers traced gentle circles on his limp hand

If there was forgiveness, it would be in his brother’s eyes.

-o-o-o-

Time passed as it always does. Virgil grew stronger and was eventually moved out onto the ward. A private room was necessary for security and Kayo hovered like an eagle seeking prey. Virgil was better but still weak. His voice was little more than a rasp and there was pain and medication and the occasional loopy. Gordon held back his sense of humour, but there was some filming that he would no doubt be killed for later when Virgil discovered it.

Scott straightened his spine and focussed on his brother and the necessities of IR management. It worked as a distraction.

Until the day the police came to question Virgil on the incident.

Scott hauled in their lawyer from New Zealand, Jack Dunning. The short, balding, dumpy little man was a long term family attorney and had seen them through many an...incident.

They sent two police, a man and a woman. The woman was very professional. The man, however, appeared somewhat starstruck and Scott had the feeling he had jumped at the chance to meet either an IR operative or a Tracy brother, probably both.

“The victim has been identified as Mr Victor Gomez.” The woman waited for a reaction.

Virgil, sitting up in bed, oxygen cannula under his nose and bags under his eyes, frowned. “Gomez? Wasn’t he one of the thieves who stole FAB1 last year? I thought he was in jail.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “He was, but he had a good lawyer.”

“What?” Scott felt the heat rise to his face. “The man blew up a diamond exchange!”

“The justice system is far from perfect, Mr Tracy. A fact I am sure you are well aware of.” her expression was firm, but kindly and said far more than the words she spoke.

Scott’s lips thinned.

“Mr Virgil Tracy.” The male police officer definitely had stars in his eyes and definitely for Virgil. Scott took a step closer to the bed.

The officer blinked and took a step back.

Virgil whacked Scott on the leg and shot him a glare before turning his attention fully on the officer. “Yes, sir?”

Great, that boosted the guys confidence. Virgil was so damned polite all the time.

His leg was whacked again. “Scott, for goodness sake, sit down.”

It was Scott’s turn to glare at his brother, but he sat down slowly on the chair beside the bed.

“Mr Virgil Tracy, could you relay the events of the incident in question as clearly as you remember, starting from your arrival at the scene.”

Scott bit his lip as Virgil’s still raspy voice spoke of the rescue that led up to the shooting.

“I hauled the victim to the surface. Scott helped him out of the hole and I followed.” Virgil swallowed. “I was just pulling myself out of the mine when the man said something to Scott which I didn’t quite hear. He then turned with a gun in his hand and shot me.”

Scott’s fingernails bit into his palms.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember much after that. Just fragments. The man had some demands, money? I’m not sure of the specifics. Scott...” Virgil frowned and wet his lips. “Scott was there. I remember being afraid for him. I was terrified he would be hurt.” He let out a breath, blinking. Virgil straightened his shoulders as if to shake it off. “Breathing was a problem and I...faded a lot. I was pretty useless. Scott manhandled me onto Thunderbird Two and at some point, I faded out completely. Next I remember is waking up in intensive care.”

“So, you don’t remember the altercation between your brother and Mr Gomez?” The woman’s voice was clear and precise.

Jack shot to his feet as Scott sat up straighter in his seat. Virgil’s eyes widened and he paled. “What altercation? There was no altercation. Scott held onto me the entire time.”

“But you don’t remember, do you Mr Tracy.”

Virgil paled even further, his mouth dropping open. His eyes darted towards Scott, seeking his big brother. “I-“

“You do not need to answer that, Virgil.” Jack held out a hand. “No one has been accused here. A video of the events from Thunderbird Two’s cameras has been submitted, Mr Scott Tracy has submitted his version of events as has Mr John Tracy. Mr Virgil Tracy is injured and even I can see you’ve managed to stress the man already. What is your point?”

“What we have, Mr Dunning, is an incident solely reported by one family. A very powerful family at that, who, I am sure, are used to getting their own way on all fronts. I am here to represent the law and give the victim a voice. A voice that is not drowned out by all the technology and skill of International Rescue.” She spat the name, glaring at Scott the entire time.

“What the-?”

“How dare you!” It burst from his brother, harsh and pain-filled. Virgil was shaking. “We save people. I saved him and he shot me. Scott...he wanted money. He could have shot Scott and I couldn’t...How dare you accuse my brother of harming that man. That is what you are saying, isn’t it?” Brown eyes shot daggers at the woman, their depths lit with outrage. “My brother...” A trembling finger shot in the direction of Scott. “My brother has saved so many people. So many, many people. We saved that man and he shot me, he threatened my brother and you think Scott would attack him?!” Virgil swelled in the bed. “Scott has been castigating himself because he was unable to save the guy. I’ve been lying here watching him beat himself up, and you have the nerve to accuse him of actually causing the man’s death. Do you have any id-ea who you are talking about? This is the c-commander of International Rescue. The man doesn’t have an immoral cell in his b-body.” A shaky breath. “G-get out!” That trembling hand waved at the police, shunting them towards the door. “Get-t out!” A cough and Virgil was hunching over in pain as his lungs attempted to turn themselves inside out.

“Shit, Virg!” Scott was reaching for his brother. Jack was yelling at the police woman. Nurses came running.

And there followed a tense few minutes where his brother tore himself apart attempting to breathe. His hand caught Scott’s and proceeded to crush every bone in it as he struggled to regain control. By the time medication relaxed him enough to calm him, he was almost transparent against the sheets.

Still he rasped out words. “Dare th-y. S-ve Scott, H-ve to save Sc-t.”

“Virgil. Virgil! It’s okay. I’m okay.” He gripped his brother’s hand in both of his own, but Virgil had fallen into a drugged haze and could no longer hear him.

“Virg, c’mon, rest.” He reached out and combed his fingers through his brother’s hair in a last-ditch effort to calm him.

Virgil sighed almost immediately. “Mom...” Scott continued the gentle administration and eventually the sick man fell into an exhausted doze.

God, Virg. Scott let out a breath and slowly dropped his forehead to the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

Shit.

“Scott?” A blink. Please, just a moment, please. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr Tracy.”

Jack.

He sighed and pushed himself up, glancing at his sleeping brother before ushering the lawyer out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” He rubbed his face.

“Understandable. I just wanted to let you know that they have nothing on you or Virgil. That woman...” He spat the word. “That woman was taking advantage of Virgil’s drugged state to see if she could get any information out of him that could implicate you. Why, I’m not sure, but I am advising you that my law firm will be pressing charges on your behalf. She will never be allowed in a position to do that to anyone else ever again.”

Scott blinked. Jack Dunning was one of the most level headed men he knew. It appeared that he might actually be angry.

“Jack-“

The lawyer raised a hand. “No, Scott. What she did to your brother was inexcusable. Virgil was right.” He reached out and gripped Scott’s arm. “You deserve so much better.” A gentle squeeze and the man let go.

Scott’s eyes were wide.

“Just do me a favour.”

“What?”

“Look after yourself.” And the man turned and left, leaving Scott standing bewildered in the corridor.

-o-o-o-

The next twelve hours were spent in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. About eighty percent of that was an uncomfortable doze that left him with aching muscles and a throbbing headache.

Gordon cornered him at one point and attempted to drag him back to the hotel, but Scott refused. he had to be here when Virgil woke up. They needed to talk.

Of course, Virgil woke while he was asleep. A touch to Scott’s hair and his head shot up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at him.

“Scott?” It was whispered.

“Virgil.” He sat up, ignoring the crick in his neck.

“What are you doing here?” Scott had to lean in to hear what his brother was saying.

A blink. “Where else would I be?”

“In a bed, asleep.” Virgil’s eyes closed slowly, but opened again, the man obviously determined to stay awake. “You look like shit.”

“Pot, kettle, Virg.”

That brown gaze narrowed, focussing. “You did the right thing.”

Scott rubbed his neck. “Oh, I don’t know, my neck may never forgive me.”

Those eyes closed and opened again. “No…leaving him behind. You did the right thing.”

A swallow. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

That prompted a snort. “Really? You’re going to try that while looking like that?”

Virgil almost rolled his eyes. Almost. Instead he turned his head looking around the room. “Where’s John?”

Scott glanced at his watch and frowned. “Probably in bed. Unless Gordon is giving him grief. Why?”

“I need someone to kick your ass.”

“Again? Really? Do I look that bad?”

A frown and it became very obvious that Virgil didn’t remember the last time he had threatened to kick his butt. “You look like shit.”

“This conversation is going in a circle.”

“Scott-“

“Virgil, you need rest-“

“I need you to understand!” His brother’s voice grated out of stressed lungs.

“Virg, for god’s sake, calm down.”

His brother grabbed his hand. “You did what you had to do. Stop beating yourself up for it. Dad would have done the same.” A cough. “I would have done the same!”

Scott stared at him. “The man died because I left him to die.”

“The man died because he was an a-asshole.” His brother swallowed and winced. “We can’t save everyone.” Virgil’s eyes squeezed shut and his hand tightened around Scott’s. The bruises on his hand from the last time his brother had grabbed him made themselves known and he flinched just a little.

Virgil’s eyes shot open and he frowned, staring down at his hand. He let go. “Did I do that?”

Scott grabbed his brother’s hand back. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.” He tried again to let his brother’s hand go, but Scott wouldn’t let him, wrapping both hands around his brother’s.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is you getting better so you can climb out of that bed and kick my ass yourself.”

“It’s all about your ass.” His brother let out a sigh and his eyes closed again. This time he spoke without opening them, each word painfully enunciated. “If you had been shot, I would have done the same. I may have even done more. He wanted money and was willing to trade lives to get it.” His eyes opened and caught Scott’s. “I would have saved him if I could, but if it comes to a simple equation of my brother or the man who shot him...the answer will always be my brother.” A slow blink. “I can’t lose you, Scott. It will always be you.”

It took Scott a moment to remember his brother was still heavily medicated, still only half-awake. “Virgil-“

“Scott, stop beating yourself up. You did nothing wrong. Go to bed so I can get some sleep.” Another slow blink. “Y-you snore.”

It was the last two words that did it more than anything his brother had said before. Two simple words so his brother it hurt.

A gentle squeeze of his hand. “Okay, Virg. You get some sleep.”

“Planning on it.” His eyes closed, eyelashes brushing ever so pale cheeks. “Go to bed.”

He didn’t move immediately, content to watch his brother slip into slumber again. Virgil’s breathing evened out and his hand fell limp in Scott’s fingers.

God, it had been close.

His brother or the man who shot him.

A simple equation.

Scott bit his lip.

Virgil was right.

The answer would always be his brother.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #nuttys fandomversary

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izzyovercoffee · 5 years

Text

Prompt number: 17. “There is just something about them/her/him.” Fandom: Fallout (3 & 4) Rating: PG Warnings/Tags: none that I can tell, ask to tag Summary: Livia/Ace arrives in Sanctuary and is reminded of one of the many awful things the asshole sole survivor did when he was still alive. Notes: the FEV is a plague and a horror on the wasteland and I’m mad about it. special thanks to @thelightreturns for continuing to allow me to write Livia B’)

##. it’s nice to take a breather

“Gotta say, sir, General, sir,” the kid says with a voice pitched a little too high for half, and then cracks about a third of the way through General, “things sure look an’ feel a whole lot better without the Brotherhood hangin’ ‘round.”

Livia hangs back only a step, listening to the conversation unfold all the same. It’s not like the kid doesn’t know she’s there---her presence was certainly noted when she first arrived to Sanctuary with Preston---but the way he goes on, it’s like he’s including her on the kind of talk only Preston should be privy to.

She doesn’t know how she feels about that.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, just shy of awkward as he reaches out to clasp the kid’s shoulder. “I take it everything’s quiet while I’ve been gone?”

“No sir,” the kid laughs---and Livia’s not sure, exactly, what’s funny about that. “Plenty of the big green folk---but we turned them right back around.”

Livia looks around, and … only sees the bustling settlement of Sanctuary. Sure, the remnants of Brotherhood influence using the neighborhood as a base still lingers in large chunks of metal scaffolding and old vehicles---and broken power armor used as building parts---but the settlement otherwise looks like a mess of concrete, metal and wood.

It lacks a coherent, clean, organized look to it---but that’s part of what’s charming about it, she decides. And besides all that, she doesn’t see any evidence of disaster from any type of raiding party. Whatever defenses they had, it’s clear they’re more than enough to keep the residents safe.

A pang stabs deep in her heart at the thought of Super Mutants.

With Dr. Virgil dead---slaughtered by Vault 111’s sole survivor---any type of progress on a cure for the FEV’s set back by … too, too many years.

And that anger she feels, where can she put it? Who can she raise it to? When that fuck is dead, and his offspring, too?

At least Livia had a hand in killing Father. She can take some relief in that.

Maybe she’ll ask Deacon where the shallow grave he dropped Brotherhood Brian’s body is, so she can spit on his memory.

“Livia?”

Preston’s voice pulls her back to the present. She looks to him, dragging her eyes away from the distance she bore holes into with her gaze, and finds an unspoken question in his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“No,” she says, choosing honesty. “The Sole Survivor killed a doctor that had done incredible work towards a cure for the effects of FEV. I was reminded, just now, hearing about the super mutant raids---and remembered we are now set back decades, if not centuries.”

Countless lives, lost.

She watches him. Distantly, she knows it’s not appropriate, or socially adept, to simply drop so much information contextless, and yet here she is. No one else is nearby, that she can tell, to eavesdrop---but, still.

And Preston doesn’t look happy about it, either.

He turns to walk, but waits and looks to her. “Come this way, please,” he says.

She follows him, and they walk down a winding road through Sanctuary, to come to a sort-of boardwalk overlooking a tall wall that divides the neighborhood from the river that cuts down one side---the very same river they had to cross to get into Sanctuary.

Here, she can see far in nearly every direction. The kind of view she dreamt about, when she had been trapped within the confines of the Institute.

A breeze on the air smelled of spring. A clear day overhead, with only a few wisps of clouds to tease the sun.

“I wasn’t there,” he says. “But I tried to talk to him, before he left.”

She remains silent, instead choosing to watch him as he turns his gaze out over the river.

“There were a lot of things I chose to look past, because he saved my life. Because he saved others’ lives.”

He takes in a long, slow breath. His hat doesn’t shift as the breeze picks up, and his long coat tails shudder in the wind.

“But he was… there was something about him. And it was hard to not want to believe in him, even when you knew he lied to your face.”

Understanding overcomes her anger, and she sighs. “I know someone like that---but she’s much, much different than who many say he was.”

“That must be why she’s alive, and he isn’t,�� Preston says, with a small smile.

Livia frowns. “I didn’t say who.”

“I can guess.”

She sighs, again. “I suppose you can.” She looks out, over the shifting water of the river. It seems to be rising, but that can easily be a trick of her mind, or her eyes---it has been, after all, a long time since she’s needed to adjust to genuine sunlight.

“I don’t hold you responsible,” she says. “I’m just angry that it happened. I can try to recover the data, or what’s left of it, and it is on my to-do list. I’m just…”

She shrugs, her arms swinging out and back to his sides.

“It’s a lot. Everything that’s happened over the past two weeks. It’s more than I can handle, but the world still turns, and the days still pass.”

Preston nods, and smiles again. “Good thing you agreed to a short vacation, huh, ma’am.”

“Yeah.” She returns his smile. “I suppose it is.”

“Come on,” he motions with his head back towards Sanctuary. “Let’s get you situated.”

In another impulsive act, she reaches out to take his arm, and he beams at her---warm, and safe.

It’s exactly what she needs.

#writing: fictober19 #writing: fallout #au: this is the BAD place

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demonsonthemoon · 5 years

Text

Veni, Vedi - Chapter 6

Fandom: Pacific Rim Pairings: Eventual Newt/Hermann/Vanessa Word Count: 7091 Summary: Everything changed after they collapsed the Breach. Newt lost the thing he had dedicated his life to. Hermann lost all of his certainties, and gained a family. Vanessa found something to hope for again. And, somehow, all of their lives got tangled together.

Also available on AO3.

NEWT

Newt stared at Hermann in silence, smile frozen on his lips.

If you so despise my perfect little life, I suggest you walk out of it right now.

Newt had wanted to get a rise out of Hermann, to make him react. That was always what he was doing. Newt was aware of his own issues, to an extent, and so he knew of his self-destructive tendencies, and he knew that his favorite method of destruction had always been Hermann.

But this hadn't been what he truly wanted, he realised now. Because Hermann had the upper hand, like always. He had a way to cut him out. Maybe Hermann was as lost as Newt, even if it hurt him to admit it. But at least he didn't need him. There were other people that he could rely on.

Newt had dug this hole for himself, it was time to lie in it.

Instead of letting the fight escalate, he just stayed silent. Hermann stared him down for a few more seconds, then stormed out of the room.

Newt's muscles immediately relaxed, in an almost painful way. He could feel his whole body shake from the tension. Nervous laughter started bubbling inside his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure what – if anything – was funny, but he couldn't help himself. He muffled the giggles against one of his arms. The last thing he needed was for Hermann to come back inside and berate him for making light of the situation.

Maybe it was because of how ridiculous he and Hermann were acting. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous the whole human race seemed, scrabbling for meaning in a world that had tilted its axis. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous it felt to have his e-mail inbox filled with messages from various government agencies.

He hadn't really meant what he had said about Hermann's life. Actually, he thought bitterly, he was surprised it hadn't been obvious how jealous he felt of it. Hermann seemed able to fit into the patterns of his old existence with ease. Newt was just starting to realise how dangerous his tendency to burn every bridges he crossed could be.

He let his laughter turn into sobs, not caring as much anymore about whether the noises would get noticed or not. Let Hermann be disgusted with him. Let him blame it all on Newt's splendid personality, as he called it. Newt knew how to push people away. That was at least one thing he was still good at, in this now kaiju-less world.

He wiped at his eyes and closed his computer. The sleeve of his white shirt was wet with tears and snot. He sighed. He was quickly running out of clothes, what with only bringing one suitcase with him. Maybe he really should start looking for somewhere else to stay. Somewhere where he wouldn't feel like he was intruding. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to face Hermann.

Newt knew that Hermann wasn't okay, despite his façade. And he knew that it was his own fault. Because Hermann had accepted to drift with him, without time to weigh the consequences, and his perfect brain had been ruined in the process. Because Newt wasn't able to do things on his own like he was supposed to.

Newt stood up, put on a sweater and his jacket above his dirty shirt, and all but ran out of the apartment building.

Standing on the threshold, looking up at the home he had just left, Newt realised he hadn't been outside for three days. The air here tasted different than in Hong Kong. Colder. There were less people around, at least in this neighbourhood. Newt was quite happy about that, having made the realisation while on a bus to the airport that him and crowds didn't get along quite so well anymore. He had handled the incident like a champ, with only a minimal amount of screaming and just a tiny panic attack, but he wasn't eager to go for Round 2. He had had enough nightmares about Otachi already, he didn't need to seek them out in his waking life.

God, if Otachi had forever ruined concerts for him, he was going to be pissed.

Standing in the cold, Newt also realised he didn't really know where he was. He had taken the bus on his way here, sure, but couldn't even remember which direction he had come from. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and started walking anyway.

He groaned when his left leg started hurting after only a few hundred meters. He walked faster. That would teach his body what pain was his and what wasn't. He found a bus stop at some point. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking for and if the stop was the same one he had first arrived at, but he waited there anyway. He climbed in the first bus that came by, bought his ticket and sat down. He watched the city pass by for a while, then got off and took another bus.

He finally ended up near the Spreeinsel in Mitte. There were a few tourists there. Europe was far away from the Pacific and some of the people here were still able to enjoy the luxury of going on holidays. Still, it was far calmer than it would have been before the Kaiju War. There were more people sitting on sidewalks too, homeless and refugees.

Newt was slowly starting to realise how paradoxical the situation in Shatterdomes had been. He had been one of the people closest to the front line, had seen kaiju remains up close and walked through the destruction the creatures had caused. But he had no idea what the longterm consequences of this conflict had been. He had no idea how fucked the economy was, what measures which countries were taking, which governments were trying to send back refugees where they came from now that the threat had collapsed back into its own universe. For more than ten years he had been living in a small bubble of metal and hierarchy, and now he was facing the fall back to reality.

Wasn't this the exact thing he had told Hermann?

Newt groaned. His feet were hurting. It wasn't some kind of phantom drift-pain anymore, but the real-life, physical pain of walking for too long after months without exercise. He found an empty bench and sat down, looking at the Spree river.

The current was slow. He would probably be able to swim against it if he tried.

He probably shouldn't try.

It had been a long time since he had last swum, though. He could remember holidays with his mother, on the rare occasions where she would take him with her. He remembered golden beaches and warm water, so clear he could see tiny fish go past him. He remembered watching the dead bodies of jellyfish and prodding them with a stick.

He remembered waves hitting his legs, rain in his eyes, foreign smells and foreign colors all around him. He remembered being a kaiju.

Newt was angry. At Hermann, at himself, at the PPDC, at the governments, at the world at large and even at another universe. He was angry and frustrated and for once, just for once, he didn't feel like caring at all. He watched the Spree go its merry course, and let himself be carried away by the memories.

His body became massive, powerful instead of weak, stable instead of insecure. Newt could remember what it was like to never be alone, to have dozens of voices in his head all at the same time, to have hundreds of thoughts always running through his head and never lose track of one of them. He felt at home, surrounded by that hurricane of sound. More at home than in the silence he'd been living in in the last month, one he remembered from too much medication and a house that was empty at night.

A couple walked in front of him, and Newt bared his teeth. He was ready to fight if he had to. Fight for his right to live, for his right to exist. Fight because it was the only thing he knew how to do. Fight and destroy because that was the meaning behind being alive.

Again, he did not know how long he stayed there, watching the water. He did not know how much longer he would have stayed either if his phone hadn't started to ring, breaking the illusion and bringing him back to his tiny body and the coolness of a German evening.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

“Newt Geiszler?” he said, voice sluggish, as if the sounds were foreign to him.

“Newt? This is Vanessa.”

He froze. Why would she be calling him? Hermann had to have explained their arguments. Was she going to tell him that she had put his suitcase in the lobby, for him to pick up whenever he wanted? It wasn't Vanessa's style, not from what Newt knew of her. And she had been the one to offer he stay with them in the first place, so...

“Uh... Yes?” Eloquent. Nice.

“Listen. I know you two had a fight but... Hermann is acting... off.” She sounded genuinely worried, too much for Newt not to feel the same anxiety shoot up through him as well. “I can't get him to respond to me. At all. Could you... Could you come back? And see whether you can do something? I know it's a lot to ask. I'm sorry.”

“I'm on my way,” Newt replied, without having to think about it. He had been ready to leave since Vanessa had said something was wrong with Hermann. It was the way it was and the way it had always been. As much as he was angry with the man he knew he couldn't leave him on his own.

Even when Newt truly believed that he had come to hate Hermann Gottlieb, physics genius and writer of passionate e-mails, kindred spirit in a desert of intellectual desolation, absolute asshole with uptight manners and disdain written on his every feature, even when he truly believed he had come to hate Hermann, he had always been there to defend him and his theories. He had always been there to defend Hermann as a person too, to be honest. But that part he had tried to handle more discretely.

“Okay,” Vanessa said with a relieved sigh. “Okay.”

There was so much fear in her voice. Newt started running towards the closest bus stop. “He'll be fine, 'Nessa. We'll make sure he's fine. But you've got to hold on until I get there, okay? Stay with him. Keep talking to him.” Newt had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what was going on and how he was going to help. But he couldn't do nothing, not like the past two days. If this was going to be another war, he wasn't scared to go on the front line anymore. Or, more accurately, he was terrified, but he would do it anyway.

He also knew that Vanessa needed to feel useful. She needed something to do, or she would lose it. Newt felt bad to instinctively use this knowledge and manipulate her, but he thought the situation justified the means. “I'm hanging up now. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

He was out of breath as he finally reached the bus stop. He quickly googled the quickest itinerary, keeping an eye out for a potential cab in the meantime. He ended up taking a bus, an S-Bahn, then a second bus, and arrived at the Gottliebs' apartment exhausted and nervous.

He rang the bell and waited, shifting from foot to foot and shivering. Vanessa buzzed him in without even checking who was there, and he climbed the stairs two by two, ignoring the elevator altogether. He was out of breath when he finally knocked on the Gottliebs' door, and truly wondered whether he should take up jogging. Except he knew he wouldn't, because the choice between sports and more time to do science was really not even worth talking about.

Vanessa opened the door and immediately gestured for him to go into the living-room. Hermann was sitting on the couch/bed and staring out the window. The only reason they knew he was alive was the way his chest moved with every of his breath. He was perfectly still otherwise. The fact that he was sitting in the exact same way he had been with Newt when they had talked together about their nightmares was all too obvious, and Newt bit his lip. So it was his fault again.

He crouched down in front of Hermann and looked into his eyes. At least he was blinking, but there was no life in his gaze. Newt waved a hand in front of Hermann's face, frowning when the eyes didn't even catch on the movement. He looked up to Vanessa, who shook her head.

“I don't know what to do. He's been like that since I came back and I can't get him to respond.”

Newt nodded. The only logical response to this situation was panic.

“Hermann?” He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face. “Hey. You're freaking your wife out here, man. Actually, you're freaking me out too. Say something, come on!”

There was no response. Newt hadn't seriously expected one anyway.

VANESSA

Vanessa watched as Newt tried to get her husband to react, to no avail. Her arms were crossed around her chest, partly as a way to conceal her shaking hands.

Had she been wrong? Were Newt and Hermann really as unable to help each other as they seemed to think they were? Were they maybe even making each other worse? Had she made things worse? Was she going to have to watch her husband wither away in front of her, unable to help?

She couldn't think like that. She had to keep trying, and give Hermann and Newt a chance to keep trying as well. She had to believe in the bright future she wished for, if only because it seemed so impossible to realise right now. So many things had been impossible before and happened anyway. She couldn't give up now.

“I... I'm gonna make myself something to drink,” she said, looking for something to do that would occupy her hands. “Do you want some coffee?”

Newt looked up from where he was crouching on the floor. He forced his expression not to express any panic, and Vanessa was grateful, even if she saw through the facade. “Uh... Yeah. That would be nice. Thanks.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen. In the relative privacy, she forced herself to take deep breaths and try to calm down. Hermann had been fine earlier. A bit distant, defensive, but Vanessa had immediately understood why once she noticed that Newt had been gone. He'd explained that they'd had a fight, that Newt had stormed off, but he was confident that he would be back.

Vanessa had kissed him softly and then gone to take a nap, and once she had woken up she had found him frozen in place, eyes fixed on the horizon.

She started making coffee, and considered making herself an infusion instead, but decided against it. Coffee was comforting to her, and she needed everything that could help right now.

When she came back to the living-room with the two mugs, Newt was seated on the floor, one of Hermann's hands in his. He was looking at the pale skin like it might hold the answer to all of life's mysteries. Vanessa knew the feeling.

She put Newt's mug on the coffee table, then sat down in an armchair, watching the two men.

Newt nodded his thanks for the drink, but kept his eyes trained on Hermann.

“What happened exactly?” she asked. Hermann had only given her one side of the story, and without many details. She needed more, if she wanted to actually understand.

Newt didn't turn to look at her, as if ashamed to do so.

“I'm not gonna judge you or be mad. Like I said, I already know that you two had a fight. I just want to know what happened so I can try to piece together what the fuck is going on.” It wasn't a habit of hers to swear, but she would have to watch her language for years after Victoria's birth. So she was going to enjoy this way of voicing her frustration while she still had it.

“That's fair.” He stepped back from Hermann. There was only one armchair in the room, and the other option was to sit next to Hermann on the bed. So Newt just crossed his legs and faced Vanessa, still on the ground. “Totally justified. You're right.”

Vanessa frowned. Newt was nervous. Newt was stalling. She glared at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that? That is exactly the expression Hermann gets when he's unimpressed with me but there are too many people around for him to start shouting. You know, I didn't really believe people when they said that married couple start to look alike, but this is actually kind of freaky so... And yep. There is the gaze telling me to get back on topic or something bad will happen. Sorry.”

Vanessa was having a hard time keeping her expression demanding, despite the seriousness of the situation. Newt made her think of herself, and how she would start babbling in the same way whenever she got nervous.

“Okay. So we had a fight. Kind of a big fight? I insulted his life-choices and he told me that if I hated them so much I should probably just walk out of here. I cried a little, possibly? Then I left. I only came back after you called me. I didn't think... I didn't think anything would happen, I didn't mean to-”

“What started the fight?” Vanessa interrupted. She didn't think Newt was actually responsible for the situation, even if he seemed to blame himself. But she didn't have the time to comfort Newt either, not until they had figured things out.

“Uh... We were talking about the future. And about how I have absolutely no clue what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life. And how he pretends that he does, but he's actually scared too. I mean... I'm not making this up, right? You must have noticed this too?”

Vanessa hesitated, then nodded. She knew she could trust Hermann, and he kept telling her that he knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted. He kept telling her that he wanted to be here and that he was happy. But it wasn't impossible for him to be lying to himself.

“But, like... He was fine when I left. He was super pissed, but he was fine. He was in his office when I walked out...”

“I talked to him, before he... became like this. But then I took a nap, and when I woke he wasn't responding.”

Newt seemed slightly relieved that at least there was a chance this hadn't been caused by their fight directly. Vanessa took a sip of her coffee. They still were no closer to figuring what was going on or how to fix it.

“Has something like this ever happened before?” Newt asked. Vanessa was surprised, as she had been on the verge of asking the same question herself. She thought about it.

“I'm not sure. Never anything this bad but... I guess he gets lost in memories, sometimes. He starts staring into space. But he'll usually snap out of it if you call for him.”

Newt nodded. “Yeah, you mentioned that the other night. That I did it too. But what could be different about today that lead to him staying stuck?”

Vanessa was fairly confident Newt was only talking to himself and didn't expect a reply, but she felt obligated to give him one anyway. “Well. You're here.”

“What?”

“I don't want to... accuse you of anything. I don't think it's really your fault. But since you're here, and the two of you are connected, and you had your fight... maybe that made the... memory drift stronger. Or something.”

Newt's eyes widened. “Memory-drift! That's it! Vanessa, you're a genius!”

She frowned. She didn't see how her insight was actually of any help. “I'm flattered but... What am I a genius for, actually?”

“A memory-drift! That's what this is! A drift! A connection. A two-way link!” Newt seemed really excited, and got up from the floor. “I went to the Spreeinsel when I left. I stared at the water for a long time. A really long time. I wanted to... get lost in the memories. I did it intentionally. But Hermann? Well, I'm not sure if I'm right at all, but if we think about this like a drift... It's actually not just a one-way or even two way connection. It actually goes in three directions. Pilot/Pilot/Jaeger, or Me/Hermann/Kaiju. And maybe... maybe the connection is still there partly, and so it also works with Me/Memories/Hermann. Like a powerful ghost-drift. I think I've had it happen to me before, a bit, when...”

Newt trailed off, then raised his eyes towards Vanessa, an apology in them.

“When we were still in the Shatterdome. He missed you. He missed you a lot, and sometimes I would get waves of... of missing you too. Not really, because I don't actually know you, but I would get hit by all these memories he has of you, and I would just feel what he was feeling, you know? Well, no. You don't know. Obviously you don't.” He started playing with the cuff of his sweater. “And I thought it was just my mind fixating on these memories on its own. Because I missed... having someone to go home too. But maybe he did influence me in some way. Maybe I got lost in those specific memories so easily because he was thinking about them as well.”

He started drumming his fingers against one of his thighs. He thought in a visible way. You could read on his face how his brain was chasing after different theories, disecting them one after the other, selecting the best ones even as he talked. It was fascinating.

In that moment, Vanessa felt like she knew her husband better than ever before. She remembered seeing him smile at his computer screen, and feeling jealous for a while until her boyfriend beckoned her over so she could take a look. He had explained to her how Newt's theories were great, flawed but amazing, beautiful. How he went further in his research than anyone else, despite their lack of comparative samples. She had tried her best to understand, then, but she couldn't see the beauty in those things in the same way that Newt and Hermann did. That was one reason why she had never done anything with her engineering degree. She couldn't believe in it like Hermann believed in numbers.

But she could see the beauty in the way Newt was thinking now, entire body focused on the task.

“If he really was influencing me before through a ghost-drift... Maybe this time I was the one influencing him.”

“What memories were you looking for, then? When you left?”

Newt froze, then looked down at his lap. Vanessa feared she already knew the answer.

“I...” Newt seemed to realize there was no point in lying, not when they were on the same team. “The kaiju. I was going through some of the kaiju's memories.”

Vanessa couldn't help but wince, even if she had expected it. She remembered how Hermann had described it, being this kind of beast, losing his humanity until all he wanted was to destroy. “Why would you do that?”

Newt still didn't look at her. “ I was angry. I was angry and scared. They... It's just so easy to lose yourself when you think about the kaiju. Not just because they're... interesting. They're connected. They have this sort of hive mentality, a shared mind. Hermann and I tapped into that when we drifted. We could access everything every kaiju has ever thought. Because all their memories are shared. That kind of knowledge, that kind of power, it's... thrilling. You know how, in a concert, you can be overwhelmed just by the atmosphere, the connectedness you feel? Everyone around you is dancing to the same music and thinking the same things, and it's so much and so beautiful that it makes you want to cry. That's what drifting with a kaiju is like. Except for the part where it's terrifying.”

Vanessa stared, and didn't say anything. How could she? To her, kaiju were danger. Kaiju were war and destruction, kaiju were consequences impossible to deal with, millions of lives lost. They were the monsters that had taken her life away from her. She would never be able to see the beauty in them.

She looked down at Newt's arms, covered by his shirt and sweater, where she knew tattoos were hiding. How foolish and how brave to wear death on one's skin. Like carving on epitaph on your bedroom door. Hermann had thought the same, before. But if she asked him today, what would his answer be?

“Vanessa...”

“How do we get him out? How do we get him to snap out of the memories, the ghost-drift?”

Newt froze, than shook his head in apology. Vanessa felt herself moving closer and closer to her snapping point. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to scream at him and punch him, maybe break his stupid glasses, because she had brought him into her home, a perfect stranger, she had brought him into her family, she had made his bed and taught him how to use the stove and still he was useless when she needed him the most. In that moment, she thought she knew what he and her husband felt when they chased their memories' power.

“I... I don't know. I'm not sure? If this was an actual drift we could program the machine to pull him out. We can't do that here. And I never had any problem to snap out of it, so... I don't know why he's stuck.” He looked down at his hands. “Sorry. I'm gonna try. I promise I'm gonna try.”

They finished their coffee and tried to talk to Hermann some more. He still looked as much like a statue as he had before. The tried to shake him, to no avail, and after a while Vanessa just couldn't stand it anymore. She had already tried all of that.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired and frustrated, her eyes puffy and red. Her hair was also starting to get too long, she would need to get a haircut. But that was fine. That was okay. That was something she could fix, and she would fix it. She breathed, in and out, then jumped and banged her toe against a cupboard when she heard a commotion coming from the living-room.

She swore at her clumsiness, but went to the living-room as fast as she could despite the pain. The first thing she noticed was that Hermann wasn't sitting on the couch anymore. Then she realised that the noise she had heard had been caused by Newton falling to the ground and hitting the coffee table. Luckily, it was wooden, not made of glass.

Above Newton, one hand to the ground and one gripping Newt's arm, was Hermann. He was breathing heavily and, although his posture was definitely agressive, the only thing Vanessa could see in his eyes was confusion.

“Hermann!” she shouted.

He let go of Newt's arm and turned towards her, eyes blinking in confusion. He then tried to stand up, but wobbled and nearly fell back down. Newt sat up quickly to support him, but whined as he did so. From what Vanesse could guess, he had probably hurt his head when falling, and the speed of his movement had made him dizzy.

“Dude. Just sit down,” Newt said. “It will help both of us. I think I need to sit down too.”

Hermann did as he was told, and Newt flopped down next to him with a groan, rubbing at his head.

Vanessa was left standing awkwardly in one corner of the room. “So. What happened, exactly?”

HERMANN

Hermann's head felt like a tiny room in which a dozen of drums were beating out of time. His vision was shaky, like some colors were missing from it, and he felt like he was floating just outside of his body.

“What happened?”

That was the question. He had a vague memory of being unable to work after the argument he'd had with Newton and coming back to the kitchen to find him gone. Then Vanessa came back, they talked a little, but she was tired and went into the bedroom to rest. Then... Hermann had wanted to sit down a while and collect his thoughts, and suddenly he had found himself with Newton pinned under him, one hand gripping his arms and teeth bared at the other's throat.

His head was killing him. His shoulder too.

Hermann raised a hand to it, and was surprised at the sharp pain that echoed through him as soon as his fingers touched it.

“Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Newton said guiltily. Hermann glared at him. “Like... don't put any pressure on there. I kind of... had to punch you.”

“You what?” Vanessa exclaimed.

Newton winced. “I punched him, okay? There was a reason for it! I didn't do it just for the hell of it, you know!” He had turned towards Vanessa with his hands raised in the air, as if placating a wild animal. Seeing the fury painted on his wife's face, Hermann could understand why. He felt something twist inside of him at the sight, because he knew this was his fault, that Vanessa was angry because she'd been worried about him. Again.

“He was chasing kaiju memories. I thought that physical harm might force him to react on instinct and snap out of it. It worked! I mean, he did attack me and nearly took a bite of me, but he ended up snapping out of it! So it worked!”

Hermann felt distant, like the conversation was happening in another room. The fact that Newton and Vanessa were talking about him like he wasn't even there didn't help the matters.

“Oh my god. You punched him. You just punched him and that was enough? Why didn't I think of that sooner?”

“Uh... To be fair, I think it's quite a good thing that your first instinct wasn't to punch your husband as hard as you could? I think I would have been a little worried if it had been.”

Vanessa took five long steps to the couch and started hugging Newt, to the latter's aparent confusion. To Hermann's too, if he was honest.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I seriously had no clue of what to do, and we would still be stuck if you hadn't been there.”

Newt hugged her back quickly before taking his distance and mumbling: “You're... welcome, I guess.”

Hermann cleared his throat. “I'm sorry but... can someone explain to me what's going on?”

And then Vanessa was hugging him too. He slowly put his arms around her, careful not to make any sudden movement. She smiled at him, tenderly, and Hermann saw tears well up in her eyes, barely a second before she wiped them away with a hand.

“You were gone,” Newt explained. “I mean, not gone-gone, because obviously you're still here. But you were chasing memories. Of the kaiju, I think, which is probably while you fucking jumped at me when you woke up. You weren't responding at all, by the way. Which is why I punched you.”

Now that Newt mentioned it, Hermann thought he could remember blue shapes across the horizon, the smell of the ocean and the sensation of his body speeding through waters.

“How did it happen? I can't... I can't remember anything precisely, it's all...” He winced, his headache flaring up again.

Newton reached out and, after a second of hesitation, put a hand on Hermann's knee. Hermann looked down at it and forced himself not to stare. “I think it was my fault. I'm sorry. You know how... how the hivemind worked? How the kaiju were able to share their thoughts instantly, without conscious effort?” Hermann nodded, unsure of where exactly his colleague was going with this explanation. “Well, I think something similar is happening. Obviously not as strongly, I think we would have noticed if we were able to actually communicate by telepathy, but something similar. I think we can still influence each other somehow, through a kind of ghost-drift. Like, we can't really communicate but we can... share memories. Or something.”

“A ghost-drift?” Hermann asked with one eyebrow raised. It was a phenomenon known to happen with Jaeger pilots. After a strong drift, a lot of pairs would feel like they could still communicate with each other, even without PONs. They thought they could read each other's thoughts or even have silent conversations. Nobody had ever been able to prove that this phenomenon was real, tough, and it might just have been that two people who knew each other very well and had just been in each other's heads had a way of reading each other's body language unconsciously.

“I guess. Kind of. I mean, you know my feelings on ghost-drifting in general. The PONs already require a very high compatibility threshold, and the Jaegers kind of act as a buffer in normal cases, so in a controlled drift it seems very unlikely that the kind of physical alterations that could enable a real ghost-drift would occur. Even with a really powerful neural handshake.”

“But yours wasn't a controlled drift, was it?” Vanessa asked.

Newton squirmed under her gaze. “Um. Yeah. I kinda... messed with the PONs a bit when I built my custom set-up. I had to lower the compatibility threshold. A lot. Because like... I don't think I'm actually Drift Compatible with a piece of kaiju brain, you know? But I was careful! I also lowered the depth of the connection. Obviously that became kind of useless because of the whole Hivemind thing, but it's not as if I could actually have predicted that. And I also set a timer, so I knew I would be pulled away.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow. Careful was not the adjective that came into his mind when he thought of Newton and of his first drift. He also very clearly remembered having to pull Newton from his own set-up himself after he had nearly died.

“Don't give me that look! It didn't work the first time because I passed out and started seizing! But that was because of the Hivemind! In normal conditions it would have worked just fine!”

“You were attempting to drift with a piece of kaiju brain, Newton, were you seriously expecting anything that could be called normal conditions?”

Newton looked like he wante to argue but, exhibiting an impressive bout of self-restraint, he just pouted instead. “Anyway! The system wasn't actually planned for a threeway drift, and with the lowered compatibility threshold and the kaiju's connection... maybe something did happen. To our brains, I mean. Maybe we did get affected by it, except it would be really hard to notice, because it's super difficult to get a clear reading on neural activity, you know? But it could be that we... that we can actually ghost drift.”

“So that means... you were thinking of the kaiju?”

Vanessa looked between the two of them. “Hermann...”

He thought she was scared they would have another fight, but that wasn't what Hermann was looking for. He just wanted to understand.

“It's alright, Vanessa,” Newton said, shaking his head. “It's fine.” He turned towards Hermann again. “I was. I was angry. I was angry at you and at myself and at everything. And when I'm angry I do destructive shit. Stare into the void, and it will stare back, they say. So I stared.”

Hermann could remember. He could remember picking fights with people older, bigger, stronger than him. He could remember drinking unhealthy amounts, just because he could. He could remember breaking things.

It made an awful kind of sense, that the memories of the kaiju would just become one more unhealthy coping mechanism.

“But you came back,” Hermann pointed out. He wasn't sure whether he was talking about the memories, or about Newt physically being here again. Maybe both.

At least he could remember the fight clearly, although he might have prefered it if he didn't. It hadn't been their usual kind of banter, the back and forth that stung but ultimately led them to being more productive. This fight had meant to hurt, to strike where they were both most vulnerable. They had been trying to destroy each other, and Hermann remembered the emptiness that had washed over him when he had thought that he might have succeeded.

“I came back,” Newton agreed. “Vanessa called for me. I never intended to actually leave, I mean... I just needed some time. I would have come back for my suitcases anyway and... I mean, I should probably go and stay at a hotel or something, it might be best for everyone, but it doesn't mean...”

He was struggling to find his words, which should mean something. But Hermann was having hard enough a time keeping his own thoughts straight through the pounding pain, he didn't feel able to interpret Newt's expression.

“I mean... We fight a lot. Right? And this fight was bad. I was out of line and you...”

“I was out of line too.”

Newton nodded in acknowledgment. Vanessa was watching them intently, probably trying to parse together what was left unsaid, and watching over them in case things got violent once more.

“But I think actually... I think this fight might have been necessary, in a way? We tried to handle things on our own, when you left. And it didn't work out great, did it? And now... If we really are connected, there's no point in trying to keep our lives separate. I think maybe Vanessa was right. I think maybe we need each other. So like... if you'll still have me...”

Hermann sighed. This was too much. The idea of having Newton's memories had already felt overwhelming, but now there was a chance that their brainwaves were forever connected to each other, and that just felt worse. Hermann not only knew the Newton of a month and a half ago more intimately than he had ever hoped, there was also part of the present-Newton forever within him.

Still. He had pulled him out. Even if it was technically Newton's fault if Hermann had lost himself in the memories in the first place, he had pulled him out. Hermann didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't. Would Hermann have been able to stop it by himself?

“You can stay,” he said. He wasn't certain he didn't mean it as a request. Will you stay? Will you do this for... Will you do this with me? “Until we figure things out. Until we get better. You can stay here, if you want.” Here, meaning in this flat. Here, meaning in Berlin. Here, meaning in Hermann's life.

Hermann turned towards Vanessa, waiting to see if she would say something. This had been her idea in the first place, but she had the right to change her mind. Especially after what had happened today. Hermann couldn't blame Newton, because he knew that wasn't how it worked. But if Vanessa saw Newton as a danger, he would respect it. He needed her to feel safe too. He didn't think he would ever be able to feel at home in a place where Vanessa wasn't safe.

But she nodded.

“Thank you,” Newton said, sounding overwhelmed. “Thank you guys so much, seriously. I don't know if I can... how I can ever repay you but... I appreciate it. I really do. More than I can say.”

Newton was sincere. Earnest, even. And Hermann was glad that Vanessa could feel it to, that she trusted him, somehow, despite everything that had happened. There was a time when he had hated Newton with all of his being. Now he didn't want to imagine his wife asking him to leave. How had his life come to this?

“I'm glad you're okay,” Vanessa said softly, coming closer and sliding her fingers in one of Hermann's hands. “I was really scared.”

Hermann wanted to apologize, but he didn't know for what, so he leaned into his wife's touch instead. His whole body felt tired, he guessed that he had been tensing his muscles the whole time he had been... lost? Unconscious? Unsconscious felt like the most accurate word.

“Okay, well, I'm gonna...” Newt started. “I think I'm gonna take a shower? I was outside a lot, and it was kind of really cold so... yeah. I'll be in the bathroom.”

He stood up and nearly ran out of the room. Hermann guessed that it was his very undiscreet way of giving him and Vanessa space, and he was thankful for it.

Vanessa immediately pressed her shoulder against his uninjured side, settling in more comfortably now that they had more space on the couch.

They kept silent for a moment, soaking in each other's warmth. Hermann didn't know what to say. He was still confused about everything that had happened.

“I don't want to lose you again,” Vanessa whispered.

#Pacific Rim #Newmann #Newt/Hermann/Vanessa #Newt Geiszler #Hermann Gottlieb #Vanessa Gottlieb #Meeni writes fics

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

Text

OUAT 3X06 - Ariel

Who’s ready to hear an amazing TAIL that only slightly FISHY?!

Yeah, yeah. They’re not all winners. Hit me up under the cut to read my thoughts!

Press Release

Back in the Fairy Tale Land that was, when Ariel saves Snow White from drowning in the ocean’s depths, Snow returns the favor by helping her new friend get acquainted with Prince Eric, with whom she has fallen madly in love with. Meanwhile, Emma, Mary Margaret, David and Hook attempt to save Neal, who is imprisoned in one of Pan’s encampments, and Regina and Mr. Gold begrudgingly team up to find a way to take down Pan.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Ariel is the main focus of this segment. Her character introduction is the reason for it.

And honestly, that’s pretty great.

I think that’s pretty evident by how much the fandom loves Ariel as a whole. I’ve never met a single person who doesn’t love her and there’s a good reason why. She’s energetic, kind, has a solid introductory story that gives you everything you’ve ever needed to know about her character. Johanna’s performance is so enjoying to watch as she captures the innocence of the character of Ariel as well as the bubbliness that made the Disney version so memorable.

Present

So, we all agree, the main focus of this segment are the secrets. It’s not to say there isn’t more meat there (Ex. Rumple and Regina), but I cover more of it in other segments and my thoughts on the secrets is what you want to hear.

”The deeper the lie, the more truth in its echo.” I guess that means the more you deny the truth to yourself and others, the more true or big it really is.

And to be experimental and do something different (And because I don’t really feel like delving into the revelations that will come to pass in future seasons), I’m going to just focus my review of the present by tackling these secrets as they are and with that mindset in mind:

Killian: Killian reveals that he kissed Emma and that the kiss exposed that he can move on from Milah and love again. I buy this as a secret. To keep this short as to not get too shippy (You can find THAT bit of shippy goodness in it’s home), it makes perfect sense to me that with Killian’s redemption underway and that he’s at least willing to let Rumple live, the idea of him moving on romantically works as both a story concept and a character concept. I also like how he was apparently fighting it at every step of the way, only being fully convinced with last episode’s kiss.

Snow: Snow reveals that for as much as she loves Emma and their life together, she longs for the firsts that were denied to them and thus, wants another baby. I feel like Snow addresses David more with this secret than she does Emma and for the secret of ‘I want another baby/another chance,’ there are too many instances of “our daughter” and not enough “Emma”s for me. Now, with that out of the way, the secret itself is very in-character for Snow. I like it in terms of enjoying it as something very in-character. It’s a believable desire for her to have and Ginny really sells how badly Snow wants it. It’s also heartbreaking for Emma and that de-emphasis on her (Or rather, de-EMMA-sis -- holy shit, that may have been my best pun ever) as she tells it really sticks out because of it. It sucks that this is never brought back up too because this is sort of another case of Emma being told she’s not enough and by her own parents who she saved.

David: David, of course, reveals that he’s trapped on the island. There’s really nothing else to elaborate on here. I like how the focus is on Snow and her anger at the lie is hard and fast. It builds on what she was saying about secrets and honesty in both segments of the episode.

Emma: Finally, Emma reveals that while she’s never stopped loving Neal, the pain of losing him again caused all of the pain from long ago to return with a vengeance, and that rather than being forced to deal with the pain that their past together caused her, she wished that he’d died. Again, I’ll try not to talk about all of the shippy goodness here (Again, there’s more down below), but some will be delved into, so fair warning. Looks like I’m 4/4 because I like this one too. I get that wanting someone to die as their best self seems better than having to come to terms with the complications in their relationship. When Neal “died,” he had just apologized to Emma and made a heroic sacrifice for her and Henry. That was his last impression and believing him to be dead allows for Emma to close the book on the pain that was between them. Him being alive brings those problems to the present and makes them active again and Emma would rather that pain not be the thing that ultimately impacts her memory of Neal the most. I also love Neal’s response and fast forgiveness. For a few episodes now, Neal has been discussing all of his regrets concerning Emma and how he felt about her and that hug really says a lot about just how sorry he is.

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-”Did you really think you could hide from The Evil Queen?” “Actually, yes.” This line never fails to crack me up! The shrug and surprise in Ginny’s voice really sells it.

-Look at the synchronized swords on those guards! How long do you think they practiced that?

-Damn, the water here is beautiful. The way the lighting is done paints something mystical and yet deadly af!

-”No. There has to be a way without going dark.” No, Emma. Anger does not necessitate going dark. Anger is an emotion that everyone’s entitled to feeling and it’s one that can be a force for good. The way Regina’s teaching you at the moment doesn’t go against that. Coming right after the stellar subplot in “Good Form,” this really is a disappointment to hear from Emma. Emma knows righteous fury better than anyone. That said, I completely agree with this scene for framing Regina as in the right because it’s completely warranted.

-YASSSS! Thank you, Killian for telling the truth about Neal!

-I’m fully with David and Killian here. Emotionally and strategically, it made the most sense to keep Emma in the dark about Neal being alive until they could confirm it.

-”Can you keep a secret?” Fuck no, she can’t!

-”Sorry. She deserved to know.” THEY WERE GOING TO TELL HER THE TRUTH, SNOW! PATIENCE. IT’S A REAL THING.

-Rumple, while trying to look into the future, looks like he’s either trying to summon a Final Flash from DBZ or the Doctor Strange magic hands.

-I spend a lot of time thinking about Rumple and his future telling abilities and why they never came up after this season. Like, I honestly don’t care that much about plot holes, but they can matter when they’re character-based. When a character has a power like that (One that’s been established since the pilot), there needs to be a reason for them not to use it, and Rumple, who has an over-reliance on magic as a major character trait, would use that as often as he could. In Neverland, Pan made it clear why he couldn't. But why not afterwards? Is the power just that vague that we can infer that he was using it? My personal HC is that they just went away after his first death.

-Okay, Pan is the one hell of a villain, but he’s also one hell of a chef, too! No wonder Fiona loved him!

-”You’ve lost your son Neal. Again.” You’re such an asshole, Pan, but it is like the greatest thing to watch.

-Okay, so real talk: I have misophonia and loud chewing and talking with one’s mouthful often enrages me. And Pan didn’t! I was ready to cringe when he picked up that egg in a basket, but he was fine. Pan, you may be the villain of this arc, but you’re the Savior to my ears! Thank you, Robbie Kay for enunciating properly as you eat!

-”That by killing you, all our troubles end?” Rumple: Sass Master Extraordinaire.

-Okay, so it looks like Rumple specifically has to die to kill Pan. Da fuq?

-”Have you forgiven YOUR father?” Wow, the writers of this show were just milking that twist with everything they had, didn’t they?

-”She looks fertile.” I repeat: Da fuq?

-I feel like I’d hate Snow a lot more in this episode if it weren’t for her tracking abilities finally being put to good use.

-I like Regina’s decision to leave the group from a character perspective. While the group should definitely try to save Neal, Regina, who doesn’t care about him would have no interest and after the second stop in their journey AND after talking to Henry, I can understand how all that frustration would just explode at the thought of another deviation.

-”It [the fork] is really not that valuable.” I don’t know. That is a really well made fork. XD

-”I may be heartbroken, but I’ll understand.” People, I give you Prince Eric: The only true unproblematic fave.

-Ooh! That mirror transition effect from the party to Regina’s castle was amazing!

-”Come home to Storybrooke.” Rumple, that’s as big of a red flag as there can be that that’s not Belle!

-”Are you really going to fall for this?” My sentiments exactly, Regina!

-You know, this is some great acting on Emilie’s part! She has to pull off a suffocation scene as the victim with no physical help from another actor. She really sells fake Belle’s desperation and panic!

-Speaking of good acting, look at Robert’s face when he discovers that Pan’s shadow was fake Belle. For the first time, we see a full display of the true fear Rumple has for his father!

-For as much as I’m apprehensive about Snow in the present segments, I’m LOVING her in the past. She’s so kind and supportive.

-”Thanks. For nothin’.” A little ungrateful there, aren’t you, Ariel?

-I giggled for a good twenty seconds at Regina saying “Ah-riel!”

-”You’re not gonna die at anyone’s hands but my own.” Honestly, Rumple dies at EVERYONE’S hands but your own!

-”Because I came here to kill him and die in the process!” Rumple, you are so fucking extra! Still bring the freakin’ weapon! You are so gloriously extra!

-Lana is having such a fun time playing Regina playing Ursula and I’m loving it! XD

-I took another five second giggle at “Dil-EMMA.”

-”I lost half my crew inside those rock walls.” Wow. This has gotta hurt.

-”He believes once we do [Reveal our secrets], we’ll destroy each other.” I love how this just doesn’t happen. It threatens to happen, but the strength of the group is strong enough to overcome them.

-Okay, so Snow’s a total boss during this Regina confrontation! Not only is she once again completely supportive of Ariel, BUT she decides to egg on Regina as much as she can before dying at her hands by saying that she’ll never be happy. For this point in Regina’s life, it’s an incredibly satisfying sight to see.

-SAME GOES FOR ARIEL! She fucking stabs Regina in the neck! WITH A FORK! Not even Snow or Charming could do that with a sword!

-”I don’t know the particulars. Only what I’ve been told.” So Killian didn’t go in?

-I love the video game that is the Echo Caves!

-”You know that’s not how this works.” Emma’s reaction to this line is just the best, her body screaming “can’t blame me for trying.”

-Anyone feel like if they were trapped in the Echo Cave that they wouldn’t know their own deepest secrets?

-REGINA! FUCK YOU! It’s an amazing evil plan and as a viewer, I’m loving this, but for breaking Ariel’s spirit, FUCK YOU!

-Real Ursula. Both powerful and kinky as all hell. <3

-”Storybrooke.” Regina’s so proud of the name, and to be fair, quite rightly!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Mission to Save Henry - We have a way of defeating Pan! XD Once again, the main plot focuses on something else than this mission, but I don’t think it was a bad idea. The subplot keeps the momentum going quite nicely.

Killian’s Redemption - GREAT on Killian for telling the truth about Neal! That’s really the biggest point here, but it’s an important one nonetheless that speaks to how seriously he’s taking his redemption. He doesn’t hesitate telling her family and only keeps Emma in the dark temporarily as to spare her further pain.

Regina’s Redemption - Regina gets some great moments here! First, how she teaches Emma is fantastic! Like, I’m so glad that she showed the value of anger and how it and darkness are not necessarily one and the same! Second, she saves Rumple’s ass! Third, “maybe we can find another way.” The third way has been the heroes philosophy for a while and to see Regina trying that outlook rather than sacrificing Rumple is a nice bit of foreshadowing to her eventual fates and abilities! I actually think Regina may be in her best form this season! She’s still snippy and hates everyone, but she’s focused on doing right by her son. Because of that, she’ll use the darkness for the noble cause of saving him, and rather than waste time (As she puts it), she’ll look for faster means when working with those that are good isn’t making what she deems as acceptable progress.

Rumple’s Redemption - Despite Neal’s betrayal and his doubts from “Nasty Habits,” Rumple is still sincerely all in for his redemption, as much as he can be, at least. His self preservation habit is still eating at him, making him trust more in Shadow Belle, and it really works!

Favorite Dynamic

Regina and Rumple. Regina came to Rumple at just the right time. She dragged him fighting and screaming away from danger and self loathing and back to reality and the point of this mission. It’s actually a great relief to see Rumple again with someone who won’t take any of his shit. Characters like that challenge Rumple and with Regina, it allows for us to see just what happens when they combine their dark magic and few fucks together for a good cause. It’s as Regina says: “We’re the two most powerful practitioners of magic who have ever lived. The Evil Queen and The Dark One joining forces? I’d say we can find another way of handling some smug teenager.” And together, they’re effective at coming up with a real strategy to defeat that smug teenager!

Writer

Adam and Eddy are “Ariel’s” writers and I really like what they did here. All three stories are balanced well, everyones motivations are really understandable in the present and that fits the framing of everyone being sympathetic, and the material in the past is just engaging.

Rating

10/10. It’s a great episode! Ariel is a compelling character and watching her learn the value of honesty is a nice story that cleanly fits Snow and Regina into it. The present really delves into the further conflicts of the main characters and shows how honesty can be both an aid and a curse. The episode itself is given nuance because of that and the sets of interactions chose for the most part do a lot of good for expanding on the character’s mindsets. Also, as you’ll see below, this episode is FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH SHIPPY GOODNESS!

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Captain Swan - I think it says so much about how Killian cares for Emma that he’s willing to tell her family immediately that Neal’s alive, only holding out on telling Emma herself so that they can confirm it and save her from more pain. Pan said it himself: There is a good chance Emma won’t return his affections after its revealed that Neal’s alive. But he does it anyway because he knows how devastated she was from his loss. Whether you believe he’s completely in love with her or not, that is what caring for another person truly is. Also, look at how Emma looks to Killian to confirm whether or not that’s true when the beans are spilled (Thanks, Snow). She really does trust him now! And on Emma’s side, she actually tells her mom she kissed Hook! “I was feeling good.” And she says it in such a gossipy practically bursting way! It’s not-at-all giddy, but still a little giddy at the same time! And when Snow asks her if it meant anything, she says “i-it was just a kiss,” but everything from her tone to the fact that she actually told someone about this kiss means that it definitely was more! Now let’s talk about the Echo Cave. Killian reveals his secret and Emma’s first response is “It’s just a kiss.” But just look at the vulnerability in her eyes! And the first panel comes roaring out once he reveals what it fully meant to him! Truth! And as Emma goes towards Neal, there’s this dark acceptance in him, but it’s a respectful possible resignation.

Swan Fire - I genuinely adore how soft Neal is with Emma. The entire time he’s in his cage, he gives Emma gentle nudges in the right direction and oodles of comfort. And Emma’s confession to never stop loving Neal was beautiful. Jen’s performance here is just beautiful, soft and tender features all around as she admits that. And even as she’s admitting that she wished Neal was dead, she’s crying, clearly wishing to herself that it wasn’t true because of the love she has for him. And what’s Neal’s response to this when he gets out? An IMMEDIATE hug. It’s a tender, desperate, emotional hug. I actually found myself choked up here. He completely understands what she means. Emma gives this genuine apology for how she feels and Neal just gets it. And he’s still going to fight for her.

Ariel/Eric - Damn, Eric is romantic af! He cares about no one’s thoughts but Ariel’s and it’s really charming. “If I want to dance, I can.” <3 I almost find it a touch too forward for him to ask her to explore the world with her after one date, but given that they’re going full in on the Love at First Sight trope and Ariel says twice that she wanted to see the world, it works! He’s also a full on gentleman, stepping back (Literally) the second he feels she might decline for her comfort and even says” “I’m pressuring you: That’s unfair!” The dude’s an honest-to-goodness heartthrob! And Ariel really cares about him too! She doesn’t want him to be forced to choose between her and his dreams. And together, they’re just a cute, optimistic, lovey-dovey pair!

Millian - Short blurb, but I think it really says something about the depth of Killian’s feelings for Milah that he could NOT move on from her for over a century and when he finally found someone, he had to kiss her to finally push the denial out of his system. Like, that’s some powerful love.

Snowing - “At least not with me.” Okay, so David definitely lied and that sucks, but holy shit. In this one line, David gave his blessing for Snow not only to move on, but to have another child with someone else. And that’s gotta hurt! Like, LOVE! That’s love!

-----

This review was admittedly much shorter than I usually make them, and I’m sorry, but not too sorry because ONCE CON!!!! If you want to keep up with my con adventures, I’ll try posting some pics to my Instagram, protochan44, and hell, maybe I’ll do a live video at some point! And yeah, I’ll probably post some shenanigans on my blog too! But yeah, I am so excited and also pretty relieved that I was able to get through all of these!

Thanks for reading and thank you to the beautiful folks at @watchingfairytales, at least two of whom I’ll be meeting either tonight or tomorrow! Next time, we hit up “Dark Hollow!”

Season 3 Total (59/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (19/60) Kalinda Vazquez (10/40) Andrew Chambliss (10/50) Jane Espenson (10/30) David Goodman (10/40) Robert Hull (10/40) Christine Boylan (10/20) Daniel Thomsen (10/30)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 3x06 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 6 years

Note

Lotor?

ngl, i squealed when i saw this. i get to talk about My Boy!!!

thank you for the ask

(send me characters and i’ll give thoughts on them!)

sorry, anti-lotor half of the vld fandom, but i love this guy to pieces and nothing y’all say can change that because 1. y’all’s attempts at critically saying he’s Bad are poorly done imo lmao, 2. i’m not so preoccupied with morality and purity culture that i stick my thumbs in my ears and try to shove plugs into other ppl’s ears, and 3. opinions are subjective.

like personally, i love complex characters set up as parallels and foils to major protagonists that are inherently anti-imperialist, archaeologists, and conservationists; are representative of a not-so-palatable reality of abuse survivorship; have issues of trauma, paranoia, and interpersonal defeatism; and are clearly being set up for a future arc that will be closely intertwined with said major protagonists—as well as driven by a deep, internal conviction and strength that has persisted against absolutely ridiculous odds—

but idk. your loss, i guess.

aesthetically: gorgeous. but i am very ace.

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

don’t harangue me for not calling lotor a slytherin in case you support that side lol, but i read a really good meta on this a while ago that i agreed with here.

(gonna put the rest of this under a readmore since this gets to be A Lot.)

essentially, one of lotor’s core traits is the search for knowledge and scientific advancement for its own sake. there’s no way he doesn’t love learning—he spent centuries studying a culture that was extinct, a culture that by any imperialistic measures was worthless and weak because it opposed the empire and it was destroyed. one could hardly believe he began searching for the last remnants of altea for power or ambition. he studied them because he wanted to, for the sake of it, to connect to something that’s part of him.

in a lot of ways, he does exemplify slytherin traits—he can be exceptionally ruthless when he believes he or things/people he cares about are threatened, he is unusually preoccupied with a need for power and control, and his goals could be considered lofty and ambitious. however, much of these traits and desires can easily be linked to his trauma. one might make an argument that he’s still similar enough to honerva to qualify as a slytherin, but personally i think the story sets him up as opposing haggar without hypocrisy in too many ways to be persuaded.

(honerva wanted to continue her research despite the risks, endangering an entire planet and potentially the universe, because she saw the research as empowering. she saw her research—her own ambitions—as more important than anything else, and abandoned ethics like some burdensome shackle. but lotor is seen multiple times as unwilling to endanger people and planets for his goals without either being reasonably assured of their survival (such as voltron) or their consent. he despises cruelty and the taking away of others’ agency.)

in an ideal world, i think lotor would be an obvious ravenclaw. but his trauma has encouraged him to act like a slytherin.

best quality:

superficially: HIS NERDINESS. as soon as lotor started talking about ancient ruins, learning other cultures’ customs, and rattled off an entire poem he memorized off some old-ass cave wall he probably saw like 3 centuries before, i was absolutely done for. i had been trying to maintain my skepticism of him for skepticism’s sake, but god. you can’t just throw a goddamn archaeologist in my face and expect me to not fall deeply in love.

more seriously: i love lotor’s conviction. lotor has a strong sense of self, morality, and personal drive, especially for someone with his experiences.

he accepts and embraces both sides of his heritage as defining parts of who he is. in an empire that despises altean blood, he wields an altean broadsword, spends centuries studying what’s left of the culture, and openly admires the peace, people, and traditions of altea past. and in a castle of paladins and alteans, he demands to be judged “by [his] actions, rather than [the] preconceptions of [his] race,” knowing full well that team voltron perceives him as galra, and failing to inform them of his altean blood despite the clear benefits that would’ve come from doing so.

he has a code of conduct that’s repeatedly shown in sharp contrast to the ideals of the empire—even from his very introduction, when he stands in front of an entire arena of galran soldiers and refuses to compromise his own morals for a more rhetorically effective argument. lotor’s small, four-person team of generals (compared to the typical galran fleet) seizes an entire planet while killing no one and causing virtually no destruction.

he is also incredibly self-motivated. lotor has lived for centuries relying almost completely on himself, and he will ruthlessly protect himself and his own.

his inner strength is ridiculously admirable, and i love his self-assurance.

worst quality:

idk? usually ppl say flaws or some such here, but the problem is that flaws are more complicated than just “they do dumb things because of this adjective.”

also i love flaws. they’re born of the essence that makes a character who they are. hating their flaws is ridiculous.

with that said……..

fucking hate lotor’s hair. seriously, wtf? he can tuck all of it into his helmet and have it all fall back out nice and neatly. HOW. it’s the biggest lie of the entire show alongside allura’s bun. it’s just not possible and i hate that lotor defying reality just to look beautiful is Canon.

his butt cape. like akjhdkhgkghjgk,,, a genuine BUTT CAPE. for what purpose?? preference??? drama???????? i’ve seen comparisons to honerva’s own butt cape back when she was a normal empress-consort scientist on daibazaal, which makes sense since lotor loves making Fashion Statements, but god. a butt cape.

what on god’s heavenly green earth is up with his swordsmanship? the acrobatics and the flourishing are positively ridiculous. who the fuck actually tries killing a powerful emperor and their abuser by smashing them from above with a purple final fantasy sword like they’re the hammer and zarkon is a nail. lotor is unrealistic.

ship them with:

recovery and happiness.

brotp them with:

his generals. DUH. it’s clear that they’ve had a strong history together, and it’s impossible to have their relationship end here without any sort of resolution or confrontation about narti’s death. let them reunite under conciliatory terms. let them be friends again. (and let sincline return.)

allura for sure!!! their relationship development has been beautiful so far and i want to see that continue.

coran. they’re both Nerds. plus, one of them got to experience a full and long life on altea. let them talk.

the paladins in general. it might be difficult, slow-going, and hesitant/full of suspicion on both sides, but god—just imagine if they were friendly. (plus it would do worlds of good for lotor. he’s a lonely man, and it would even more clearly distance him from comparisons to zarkon.)

the blade of marmora (and keith). the show has said nothing so far, but i refuse to believe that in the past centuries, lotor and the blade have never interacted or crossed paths before. i can imagine why they would’ve been uninterested in alliance with each other, but i can also imagine what would make each appeal greatly to the other. let them interact. (as for keith, he and lotor have a lot of similarities. it’s real funny how similar allura, keith, and lotor all are to each other, really. hm.)

needs to stay away from:

haggar. she’s fake as hell and evil to boot. some ppl think that she’s reawakened some kind of dormant love in her for lotor after regaining more memories in s5, but that’s far from the case. someone who’s become and lived as she has for 10,000 years doesn’t suddenly care well about someone she’s abused horribly because she realizes she gave birth to them, and doesn’t suddenly become sympathetic in the good way because she’s “motherly” now. (not if the writing’s supposed to be decent, anyway.) she realizes lotor’s about to die and does absolutely nothing else except turn on the magic shiro television in her lab. she only finds out after the black bayard exchange has already happened, and she’s haggar. if she really wanted to stop what was happening, she could’ve done a lot more than just watch through shiro’s eyes. she’s a horrible person, folks, and lotor would do best to never see her again. (unfortunately, it’s much more likely that she will fuck his shit up some more next season. rip.)

zarkon. hopefully he actually stays dead this time, but i’ve seen some good points on how sketchy his ability to stay dead is. nevertheless, all memory of him deserves to be banished to the nether realms. lotor should never have to deal with that asshole’s legacy again.

misc. thoughts:

anyone who talks about lotor getting/not getting/deserving/not deserving a redemption arc makes me lose my shit because he hasn’t even done anything to warrant a redemption arc in the first place like tbfh. evil deeds whomst?? trying to kill voltron when?? where are these receipts of malice??? he’s never done an evil damn thing but y’all humoring the concept anyway. smh.

anyway, lotor needs a therapist, healing, and some good fucking friends. @dreamworks give lotor a recovery arc 2k18.

#luanna801 #ask #voltron #voltron meta #lotor #prim post #i talk a fucking lot about one of my favorite boys #in regards to the :)#i am trying to avoid siccing the tumblr shipping demons on myself #sorry

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perilinpeace · 6 years

Text

I’ve been a bit out of the loop for a few weeks, focusing on work. I finally spent a little time tonight catching up on fandom, and feel refreshed. :)

I am super psyched about 12 Days of Starmora coming up, and have actually been writing in a paper notebook because firing up the laptop is Bad and leads to falling down rabbit holes and losing time that I have not been able to afford lately.

But @phil-the-stone has written TWO amazing fics in the last couple weeks and likes Soft things for Peter and Gamora and I typed up a chunk of my Tradition story tonight... So Phil, (belatedly) thanks for the wonderful reads. Needed them. :)

Untitled “Tradition” Story (WIP)

The only “label” that ever really meant anything to Gamora was the word “family.” The things that went along with it… home… love… belonging. Those who made a family real and not some forced, manipulative thing like Thanos had--

Her family had once been her parents. Her Mother and Father. She knew there were others. Her brain told her that… some small thread in her heart told her that, but she didn’t remember. She tried, thought she owed them that. To remember. But had to admit, she couldn’t… Even her mother and father’s faces had smudged and faded, the sounds of their voices so distant, that she couldn’t tell between what she really remembered and what she made up for the sake of feeling like she did.

Her family was Nebula. Her one real constant for so long... the anchor in the swirling storm of misery and pain and grief and rage between lifetimes. And learning with her, how to really be a sister, since.

Her family was Drax, who laughed a little too often, but sometimes still surprised her with the depth and wisdom of his words; and Rocket, whose nods and darkened eyes beneath biting wit spoke of a shared understanding every time he fixed a misbehaving mod of hers or she one of his; and Groot, who still looked up to her (figuratively) when she tried to teach him something, even though he pretended not to.

It was Mantis, who delighted in being helpful to those she loved, because she wanted to and because she loved them; and Kraglin, who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, quietly looking out for Peter all while giving him shit because that’s what brothers do. And it was even an old dead Centaurian Ravager whose little trinkets still littered the bridge and occasionally surfaced in the engine room.

Her family was Peter, whose mere presence slowed her heart and cut her strings and eased her nightmares away.

So when Peter’s grandfather asked Gamora one night, on the long haul back to Earth from Xandarian space, if she was Peter’s wife… she was unsure how to respond.

It was a term she had simply not considered.

Of course, she was… familiar with the concept. Marriage was ubiquitous throughout the galaxy, a legal and sometimes religious rite on the vast majority of worlds.

But they were spacers. With no real allegiance or citizenship, for that matter, to any established governing body to even oversee such a thing. None of them had any religious affiliation to demand a formal union. (Notwithstanding Peter’s harried invocations to the “Jesus” from his Spirit in the Sky song in times of crisis or frustration--which, she had learned quickly, his grandfather similarly made… perhaps it was a family thing?)

Drax had Hovat, of course. He’d told them of the cultural significance of the traditional family unit on his homeworld. Marriage and procreation were practically an expectation of his people.

Gamora thought her own parents were married. It was hard to remember, but they had all lived together, she knew… they had been happy. Before. She had a very vague, hazy, snapshot of a memory of her mother presenting her father with a gift to commemorate some kind of milestone in their relationship…

“Gamora?” Pops asked gently, pulling her out of her own head. She looked up, squinting at him.

“Hmm?”

“You okay, kiddo?”

She nodded quickly and got up from the too-deep chair she’d sunk into and made her way toward the door of the common room, half forgetting that they’d been in the middle of a conversation.

“Take that as a no…” she heard him mumble after her.

__________________

“Are you… satisfied with our… arrangement?”

Peter stopped just shy of shorting out the new control panel for the repulsor array and flipped up his goggles.

“Huh?”

“Us.” Gamora continued, her face a little crossed between frustrated and confused. “What we… have… our… I don’t know, status.” Peter could practically hear the air quotes around the word. “Are you happy with the way things are?”

He sat back on the wing of the Milano and dangled his legs, fiddling with the arc spanner as he looked down at her, then around the hangar, as if Rocket or Groot were going to jump out to take a picture of the look on his face. Where the hell was this coming from?

“Where the hell is this coming from?” he asked incredulously.

She rolled her eyes. “Can you just tell me?”

Peter resisted rolling his eyes too, but didn’t manage to hold back an uncomfortable shrug.

“I-- well, yeah… Wait--no? Is this a trick question?”

Gamora groaned and threw her hands up, turning on her heel and stalking away. He distinctly heard her grumbling about his being of no help at all.

“Wait! What’d I--” he made to slide down to go after her, before realizing that Drax was inconveniently below him, ready to pass up the power meter he’d asked for moments ago.

“Imbecile,” Drax stated, shaking his head. Peter did roll his eyes at that, waving Drax out of the way.

“Asshole,” he bit back, landing hard with both feet on the deck. He pointed at the ship and glared at Drax. “Don’t touch anything.” Drax opened his stance and held up his hands innocently.

Satisfied, Peter jogged after Gamora, slipping through the blast door and into the corridor just as it was closing behind her.

“Gamora! What the hell… can you stop, please?” he huffed. She paused a few paces ahead of him and turned around. He held up a hand at her in thanks as he leaned up against the wall and caught his breath. “You just… ask me a loaded question like that out of nowhere, and expect me to… what… quote Shakespeare?”

“I…” Gamora had the grace to look a little guilty, her arms uncrossing a little and her face softening. “What?” Her forehead creased back up as she registered a reference that she didn’t know.

Peter waved his hand and shook his head, pushing off the bulkhead and stepping toward her. “Nevermind…”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I…” she bit her lip and looked everywhere but at him. He wanted to hold her, but she had gone from having her arms standoffishly folded over her front, to awkwardly held around her, sort of hugging herself.

Whatever this was, it was actually either really bugging her or really important to her.

Peter studied her face, her stance, the way she clenched her fingers around her own arms. He took a deep breath and leaned back on the wall.

“Okay… ask me again. I want to make sure I really understand the question.”

She quirked an eyebrow, then visibly relaxed. “Are you… happy with the way things are… between us… as… partners?”

Peter frowned and watched her watch him for a second, before swallowing hard and staring at his boots. “Honestly? Right now, I kinda feel like if you even have to ask a question like that after all this time, I’m doing something wrong.”

He looked back up at her, to see her arms dropped at her side and her face drooping and contorted. She hadn’t meant it like that. Peter sighed.

“If you’re asking if I’m happy with you, that’s a dumb question. You know that,” he said softly. Gamora stepped toward him and leaned against the bulkhead beside him. She wove her fingers between his as they slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

“I love you so much,” Peter whispered into her hair. He could feel her smile and relax a bit against him. “Of course… of course I’m… you’re my world. You and our whole… messed up crazy awesome family... There’s no place I’d rather be than with you.”

He paused, thought for a moment, then hesitantly asked, “Are you? You know…? The same?”

“Yes.” And really, it was all Gamora needed to say. She squeezed his hand, though, and he smiled slightly.

“Then why did you--”

She shook her head. “It’s silly.”

He eyed her. “Probably not, knowing you.”

Gamora ran her thumb over his knuckles. “I… was talking with your grandfather. Relationships came up… he asked about my family, my parents, Nebula… told me a bit about his family--yours--back on Earth… your mother and grandmother… and then… he asked me if we were married...”

The oohhhh formed on Peter’s lips almost involuntarily.

“...I hadn’t actually thought about it before,” she continued. “But once he said it, I--”

“Started thinking about it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Gamora nodded.

Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“So, wait… was all that, like… a proposal, or something?”

“A what?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” He enunciated each word carefully and distinctly, like a statement of fact instead of a question.

Gamora’s face scrunched up like she’d just sucked on a lemon. Peter couldn’t help but sit back and grin.

“Yes?” she answered after a moment. Peter quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

“Was that a question or an answer?”

Gamora groaned and let her head fall back against the bulkhead. “This is foolish.”

Peter thought for a moment, then nudged her shoulder, trying to steal her attention away from the ceiling.

“Is it?”

#gotg #gotg2 #peter quill #gamora #starmora #gotg fanfiction #wip

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impossibleleaf · 7 years

Text

Why there HAS to be a 4th episode or A quick reminder of everything that is fucky

I know that lately it has become difficult to keep believing in the existence of a fourth episode, one the fandom has decided to call the Lost Special. So this post has nothing but the goal to lay down the hard facts that prove not only the existence of that episode but also the necessity of it.

This is a collection of reasons why we believe in a Lost Special, all at the same place. No Arg, no speculations, no hard meta, just the irrefutable evidence we’ve gathered that shows how something is terribly wrong at the moment within the show itself. If someone starts doubting, this is supposed to remind them why we’re still in the expectative.

Tighten your belt, we’re going deep inside the show. It’s going to be long, and frankly not everything will make sense but that’s the point: nothing make sense otherwise.

So many unfired Chekov’s gun, so many loose threads

We were told to read Chekov. The problem is, we have no time if we need to address every Chekov’s guns they haven’t fired. It is very telling that I’m certain the list I’m going to make is very incomplete but here we go:

1. You should put that on a T-Shirt

What was the point of it? We knew by that point that CAM and Mary were connected. Giving both characters the same line implies an intimacy that was never shown, a connection that goes beyond blackmail. This is either a Chekov’s gun or very lazy writing. Can’t Moffat imagine a better line to show CAM’s contempt? We still need to see the depth of these two’s relationship, we need to see how Mary could have heard that line. The little joke Mary has said in the intimacy of their bedroom is outright contempt in CAM’s and was most certainly meant to be one from the beginning.

2. How is your wound, Sherlock?

This is a recurring theme even if it’s not obvious. When Sherlock thinks about Mary, he grimaces and touches his wound. This happened already in TAB where he literally fell in pain right after mentioning Mary to Watson.

Mary’s past is going to come back to haunt her? Why in that line does Sherlock need to touch his wound then? I thought all was nice and forgiven? No hard feeling?

3. Romantic entanglement, while fulfilling for other people would complete Sherlock as a human being

Seriously, what was the point of this? This is firing the canon and realizing after the fact there is nothing inside. When it comes to Sherlock and John’s romantic arc, it’s the hot potato game.

“Do you have a girlfriend? Not my area. Boyfriend? No.” “I’m sure you’d be very happy together. Sorry, what?” “Did he ever have, I don’t know, girlfriend, boyfriend a romantic relationship?” “You’re a great boyfriend, and Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.”

I’m not going to finish this one or even develop it. That would take dozens of pages. The point is, TLD finally addressed the elephant in the room. It did for no apparent reason but that was this episode’s advertising point: the whole episode was marketed as Sherlock being in love, John broke down and showed how terribly human he is, Sherlock proved how far he’d go for him. The elephant isn’t in the room anymore, it’s grown so much there is no house left. But TFP? Never. Talks. About. This. If like they’re pretending, they want to end the show there, they never will. This is a black hole inside the show, it sucks everything out of it.

4. So what was inside that letter?

Nobody knows, nobody ever will. The same way, we don’t know what Sherlock’s recurring dream is.

5. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to The Final Problem of horrors

Within the same episode, many Chekov’s gun where loaded, none got fired, a rifle being of one them.

The bloodied wall? Pointless. Molly’s confession? Like I said, romantic arcs are hot potatoes and this one got dropped with the Garridebs.

Ah, the Three Garridebs. That one moment in Sherlock Holmes everyone agrees is vital. It explains Holmes and Watson’s relationship and it was worth a wound to finally have the confirmation Holmes cares. This is that one moment Moffat swore he adores and yet has reduced to nothing. This is the biggest warning we need. A true fan wouldn’t just do that if that wasn’t part of a plan.

I’m going to stop there. I don’t have the patience to search further but, I think I’ve proved my point anyway.

So many words unsaid. So many plots unsolved. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera

1. So, what was the point of S4 again?

Each season has an arc: S1 is Sherlock and John finding their footing, the discovery of Moriarty, S2 is the relative peace of the show that hides Moriarty’s “Final Problem”, S3 is about Mary and CAM.

S4? This is a season that needs to be seen with the three episodes at the same time but, and that’s where it hurts, the Eurus revelation destroys whatever deduction you could have made. That’s like when you play rock-paper-scissor and someone screams ‘Bomb! I win!’ What’s the point of the game if you rewrite the rules at the last second?

2. Who was the villain of S4 in the end? Eurus who? Oh, you mean that harpie! Nope, not a worthy final boss for the show

What was the point of TFP? This is an episode long mystery. Eurus can survive being a villain among another but she doesn’t have Moriarty’s presence. We’re told she’s the cleverest person in the universe and yes, she’s barmy, but Jim by far is more chilling. He is the spider in the middle of the web, Magnussen is the blackmailer, the white collar villain who will pee in your fireplace as a power play. Mary is the unknown card, the enemy inside the house and who can serve you a poisoned tea with a sweet smile.

Eurus? She’s grotesque, a joke and while she’s dangerous she can’t compare to these two. Culverton Smith froze my heart and made me throw up but her? Nothing. We’re missing a villain.

The abandon of Sherlock’s main arc: Your life is not your own, keep your hands off it! Off! It!

One of the show’s main theme is that Sherlock and John are suicidal before meeting each other. Their meeting literally saved them. Life is a constant theme inside the show, it is addressed among every episode to varying degrees.

Season 1? John and Sherlock start being suicidal but manage to survive their depression. The bullet John saved for his suicide is used to save Sherlock’s life. they keep saving each other but even then the series ends with both of them seemingly about to kill themselves in order to stop Moriarty. They are better but their lives still have little value.

Season 2 is easy: Ultimately, he fakes his death, he is clever enough to avoid genuinely committing suicide even though we get the feeling he would have, had Moriarty’s plan worked.

Season 3? Sherlock is a mess but this time he fights. HLV’s greatest moment is when Sherlock while flat lining is told how much he’s going to enjoy being dead. And yet, the second he knows John is in danger, he makes the conscious choice of living. He punches the ground and forces his heart to start again. He would enjoy death but he won’t let himself, not as long as John is in danger.

The end of TLD is Sherlock finally realizing he doesn’t want to die. He says that life has a value, it is a currency he doesn’t know how to pay back but he’s not going to risk his life anymore.

So, of course, Sherlock attempts to shoot himself in TFP. There is some logic I won’t explain there but! When will Sherlock enjoy living? When will John stop thinking his death is justifiable? When Mycroft explains why John must die, he’s in. There are still in that mind set at the end of TFP!

So far, we’ve got: I want to die, let’s pretend I’m dead, I can’t die, not yet, you’re not allowed to die and I don’t want to die. Fire that gun and finally say it! Say how this arc must necessarily end: I want to live.

You want to pretend Johnlock is never happening? Fine, let’s play that game. You’re not going to convince me that one arc was always going to end the way it did. You want to try another approach to justify a fourth episode? Use this, the love and the life arcs are intimately connected: sherlocklives means Johnwatsonlives, they’re the reason they’re still alive. You can’t resolve one without the other. By cutting short johnlock, you’re also refusing to let them enjoy life.

The Abominable Bride, a colossal waste of time?

We know the story: a league of furies has decided to fight the statu quo of Vitorian’s values. They fight for the best of causes, they’re being ignored, disregarded even though they are right. They tend to our homes and are vital, we mustn’t take them for granted or abuse their love. Rather that the villains, they’re the victims who’ve decided to fight back. This isn’t the story of a murderous rampage, this was a suicide mission necessary to raise the army needed.

They are the heroes. Watson, the two Holmes, they are the obstacles to overcome. They all agree to this: the fight must go on and they must lose to the conspiracy.

Along the way Sherlock also learns vital lessons: you cannot use women on your whims. Janine, Molly, they are important, they have sentiments and you mustn’t play with them. Stop being a misogynist asshole and ask for their help. They’re not the enemy. At the same time, in the deepest part of his Victorian madness, he goes back to the source: they’re always two of them. John and Sherlock, they’re a set. Alone, he is powerless. Together? They can win and get their happy ending. Why would he need a list? He says as he tears it. He’s got the real thing now.

We even see a passing the torch moment. Mycroft asks for John to look after his brother, the same way one would ask his future brother-in-law to take good care of his baby sibling.

This is a heart-warming message. Sherlock shows such growth in what ultimately was a couple seconds in-universe.

Now read this again: Sherlock has just done the complete opposite all thorough S4.

John and Sherlock, the two of them against the rest of the world? It’s even a miracle when these two are TALKING.

Women fighting for their agency? Molly has been humiliated, even Moffat refuses to give her any depth even though her character development has always lead her to move on from her love for Sherlock. The only woman who raises the standard is Mrs Hudson, one who doesn’t officially belong to the conspiracy and even then she does this despite Sherlock.

Sherlock swearing off drugs? His flat has become a living meth lab.

John looking after Sherlock? He refuses to listen to Mycroft’s plea and Sherlock almost didn’t survive TLD.

As it stands, TAB aka the conspiracy’s decoder ring is useless. Nothing was achieved, no character development for Sherlock, he even makes a point in doing the exact same mistakes TAB calls him out.

This isn’t just a weak episode among a season. This was supposed to be the crowning jewel of this show, the link between the past and the present. The irrefutable proof that modern times are better because Sherlock always was a man out of his time.

As it is? This is a waste of money and time for the actors: nothing was achieved. It is a hindrance, the show is even better if we ignore it. Sherlock was out of his time? TAB is out of this series if S4 stands. TAB and S4 cannot coexist. Why did Mofftiss even bother linking it to the series? It would have been better if that had been an episode with no relevance to the plot. They made a 1h30 long episode outside a series for nothing.

If this is the end, why are they still so tight-lipped?

We have survived enough hiatus to know that’s not their modus operandi. Normally, this is the point they tell us how hard it was to keep the secret, how much they enjoyed watching us dance and lying to our face.

Except they aren’t. They’re still dismissive of us, they’re still acting as if our theories are ridiculous and that’s not how they act after a season, that’s how they are during it while they’re trying not to reveal too much. Even when you look at them during Sherlock events, you notice they’re still stressed. Why? I thought you wanted to end the series? It’s over, right?

Let’s take Gatiss for example. The same man who wrote to a journal dismissive of TST refuses to communicate with his fans and automatically blocks them.

You look at the actor’s face and you see they can’t sell what’s they’re saying. Martin explains that John and Mary loved each other very much? He looks dead, as if even uttering these words is killing him. Rather than a fun recap of the series, this seems like a weak defence no one believes in. Mary loves the boys so much she is rather protective of them? She shot Sherlock in a heartbeat and threatened to do it again. Each explanation they give sounds like excuses, very weak excuses.

Actors are complaining about the hell they’re living but Benedict and Martin are not in the Sherlock event, Benedict told us that love is going to conquer all, each actor revealed a part of the show we didn’t see. Everything they know will be tested? We are in hell, true, but if we take Season 4 at face value? There’s nothing that warranted this warning.

I remember seeing a post where Arwel explained that their travel to the Niagara falls was for Sherlock but? There’s nothing? They wasted so much money for nothing? And he can’t tell us anything? Why? Isn’t the season over?

The attitude of the BBC in front of our complaints are dismissive, even to those who weren’t talking about TJLC. The advertising was plainly terrible: it teased a relationship that never appeared and now that we call on their bullshit they act as if they’re the victims? They’re the ones pouring fire on this mess! They had many chances to end this but took none.

And finally, the mentions they make about The Lost Special. They are the ones that started them by making that joke. The Lost Special, the Accidental Special, they use the same vocabulary each time it is mentioned. They joke, they laugh but so did they when they said Moriarty couldn’t have faked his death, when they lied and lied to our faces so many times when we were always absolutely right but they couldn’t afford us to know. They have lied to our face so many times, every time saying they weren’t, not this time. Moffat and Gatiss are compulsive liars. Why on earth would that change today?

The game is not over. Not yet.

#sherlock #sherlock season 4 #my first #meta #and a collection of others #the lost special #tjlc #tfhc #the abominable bride #sherlock arg

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setoangel01-fanfiction · 7 years

Text

Euphoria

Stay With Me - Chapter 3 (Previous Chapters)

Rated: T/M-ish

Fandom: Sing 2016

Pairing: Ash x Johnny

Chapter Summary: Ash confronts Johnny about his strange behavior and he says something her heart is not prepared to hear.

Fanfiction.net

A03

The food was just as awful as Ash remembered even if the memories left a sweet aftertaste in her mouth.

Silently recalling their first "date" if you will.

It was after a long night helping the rebuilding along with practices and performances taking place on a temporary studio a few blocks down. When the two finally departed for the night, they were more dead than alive. Exhausted and steps heavy, they trudged back to her apartment and Johnny's garage/house (his truck needing repairs leaving him without much transportation other than his skateboard at the time). The two lived in the same general vicinity so it was only natural that they'd walk back together.

It more or less turned into the basic routine where he'd typically say some chivalrous shit, drop her off first before heading back home or even the rare occasion where she invited him in for coffee and he ended up crashing on her couch.

Only friends at this point, wobbling on the verge of something greater if she could swallow her pride or Johnny could assert more courage. Both would reluctantly admit there was an instant attraction on either end but were ultimately afraid to somehow damage their strong friendship that formed over the course of the competition. Worried that if they took it further; to date and it somehow didn't work out, that their precious friendship would be permanently ruptured. It was a strange fear and rather asinine but there nonetheless.

Yet, wasn't their chance at happiness worth the risk?

An innocent, "Are you feeling a bit peckish?" from Johnny was what started it all.

"Sure," she shrugged; picking up/understanding his foreign terminology from spending countless hours with him. "I could go for some grub."

The problem was it was after two in the morning.

Typically nothing was open after midnight and whether it be luck or sheer coincidence, they had passed a small hole-in-the-wall Asian food stall that was still serving customers. Tattered, scratched, and graffiti'd plastic tables and empty chairs should have been the first warning sign. Yet, their stomachs spoke louder than the common sense part of their exhausted brains.

Against their better judgment, the two ordered and Ash felt strangely flattered when Johnny shook his head at her proffered money and immediately paid for both of them…another thing her asshole ex did very little, if any, of. The jerk always sponged off of her for food, money, rent, etc and she admittedly allowed him for way too long…

Forcefully pushing thoughts of Lance away as Johnny approached with a few cardboard containers and two pairs of chopsticks.

The two sat at those cheap tables and ate their lukewarm food. "Hunger is the best spice" expression was completely disproved that night; for as hungry as they both were, their stomachs churned at the concoction of pasty, crumbling tofu, overcooked vegetables and dried out rice sticking to the sides of the greasy take-out box. Far too much salt and a strange cloying sweetness that didn't belong in the equation whatsoever stuck to their tongues long after the meal was finished.

Long story short, it was revolting, but both choked it down anyway.

Their conversation and back and forth banter was the best part of that meal. The humorous expressions on their faces as they ate the sub-par dinner was cause for hilarity in their exhausted minds. The fortune cookies and their ridiculous predictions had their stomachs aching in laughter while reading them off. She was sure that to the wide-eyed employees they looked like a couple of insane drunks but that only made it funnier.

The way Johnny smiled at her when she suddenly snorted; embarrassment vacating immediately as her heart accelerated in her chest like so many times before. Finally beginning to pay attention to him; his easy, toothy smile and laid-back nature. Kindness she knew way too little of in life. She'd never known anyone like him; accepting that whatever was happening between them was far more than the platonic musings she'd been listening to for far too long. He made her laugh and smile like some kind of lovesick schoolgirl; treating her with the utmost respect and always had a compliment or encouraging word at the ready.

Unlike her ex, he made her feel wanted and special; supposedly, like she always should have been treated…

…bad food aside, it was easily the nicest dinner she'd ever had.

Days later, the two were still laughing and joking about how horrible it was. During a practice, Johnny offered dinner at a nicer restaurant. Ash hurriedly pushed away those constant doubts she'd harbored and answered with a resounding "Yes."

…and as they say, the rest was history…

"...Why did I let you choose this place again?" Ash chuckled around a bite of slightly under-cooked rice. The crunch of it unpleasant and the remaining shards annoyingly getting wedged between her teeth.

"Heh. Sorry. I really thought it was just a bad night for them. Tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, I s'pose."

"Hmm. Truthfully, I'm amazed with food this bad that they're still open." Ash murmured, chopsticks steady as she pulled out a vegetable out of the concoction that she didn't recognize. Making a strange face at the find but found herself putting it in her mouth anyway; it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked even if was mushier than she would have liked.

"Eh, it's not too bad." Johnny smiled around a small bite, "The egg-rolls are somewhat edible."

"Probably the one thing on their menu that is." Ash groaned, swallowing the food in her mouth before closing the box and setting it aside. Her stomach just wouldn't forgive her if she finished it.

"You're probably right." Johnny chuckled.

Ash smiled a bit at his response and how nice his laugh sounded. Blue eyes gravitating to the nearly muted television for a moment before they rested and lingered on Johnny. She could tell something was off by the distant look in his eyes and his rather aloof nature tonight.

Carefully observing how his hands moved and slightly trembled as he pushed around the food with his chopsticks. Not really making any move to eat much of anything; instead, staring off at some fixed point inside the take-out container. She remembered her asking about his state-of-mind before but the food showing up deterred any answer she may or may not have received.

There was so much she wanted to say; to confront him and question him but she thought perhaps actions would speak louder than words tonight…

Johnny was more or less panicking.

Chopsticks pushing the food around to various corners of the container if only to keep from speaking too much. His stomach churning from something other than the horrid taste the food and his overactive stomach acids left in his mouth. Yet, the more logical side of him was admonishing his distractions and more importantly, his decision! Was itching for an answer as to why he kept pushing her away and was happy to be distracted by the delivery person. How Ash had been so close to asking him the same question he'd been asking himself for months! Why was he acting this way? Why was he so adamant to pull away yet take advice from Mike to be more forward!? It was driving him out of his bloody mind!

Just what was he so afraid of?

This was Ash - his girlfriend! Ash: the laid-back rocker that he normally could confide anything to! Who'd been there through thick and thin; helping him pick out a brilliant lawyer to preside over his father's case, brought him out of spiraling depression in those multiple moments of panic over the very real possibility that his remaining family would be locked behind bars for life. Ash was always there for him… Encouraging him and pushing him to be a better musician, singer, and performer and only asking for the same in return.

The patience she possessed was nothing short of astounding. Ash, although often reluctant to admit, was gentle and kind as he tried to work through his own shyness and propensity to second-guess himself when it came to holding hands, hugging, or kissing. Allotting him plenty of time to get used to the idea before she made any kind of move. For months, she let him take his time; allowed him to go at his own pace and it was no doubt frustrating for her…hence their first bruising kiss she initiated a few months into their relationship.

The problem was - Ash was used to this thing called romance.

She'd been with Lance for over five years unlike him who had never even had a single date before her. A virgin in every sense of the word before she came into his life; saying on multiple occasions that it never bothered her, but Johnny wasn't sure exactly if that was the entire truth. Yeah, she smiled patiently and smiled even as he pulled away from their multiple make-out sessions or cuddles that got a bit too intimate for him.

Yet, there was a distinct disappointment that flashed in her icy blue eyes every time he did so; if he was completely honest, they were warranted. She should have been angrier with him but her nature probably wouldn't allow it. Ash didn't want to push him and for that, he was grateful but he thought after all this time, he would be more than ready!

It wasn't to say he didn't try - he did!

Johnny tried on numerous occasions to allow his raging teenage hormones to take over but his shy demeanor always won out in the end. Pulling away just as she really began to believe it might happen and get very much into it… If he was honest, it was rather cruel of him to keep doing that to her time and time again.

Petrified she'd lose her patience and grow sick of this whole charade. For if what Mike said was true and he wasn't keeping her happy, perhaps she'd leave him… The very thought of his own incompetence to keep Ash satisfied had his stomach churning further…

"Johnny, are you done eating?" Ash's voice broke through his spiraling depressive thoughts.

"Hmm?" he asked before his eyes flicked to his box where the once separate contents were now just a blend of beige mush. "Eww-eh, y-yeah. I'm done." he continued before quickly closing the container and reaching for hers as well.

Ash silent as he stood up to discard of them in the kitchen. For the few moments he was gone, Ash bit her lip; inwardly preparing herself for what she was about to do. Clearing her throat, she slipped a stick of mint gum it in her mouth. One, to give her something to do and to rid the bitter taste lingering on her tongue.

Patiently, she waited for him to arrive.

"So, uh, is there a movie on the telly or how about a DVD?" Johnny asked the second he walked in the room.

"I think you're forgetting something." Ash mumbled while spitting her gum into the wrapper and tossing it into a trash bin by the sofa.

"I am?" Johnny asked whilst taking his seat next to her.

"Yep." she said, dangling the two fortune cookies they'd received.

"Oops." he chuckled, "How could I?"

Without answering, Ash handed him one and waited for him to open it.

"Me first?" he asked and she nodded.

Ash sensed he was a bit more relaxed than a few moments ago. It was an almost shift in demeanor and for that, she was grateful. She just wanted him to be relaxed and that would make her plan much easier…

Johnny, the innocent sweetie, smiled lightly as he pulled apart the plastic and removed the moon-shaped pastry from its container. It amazed Ash just how gentle he was in everything he did; fingers dexterous in handling even the smallest things with the utmost care. Gingerly breaking it over her table, he pulled out the paper and his face turned ashen.

"What's it say?" Ash asked curiously.

Johnny cleared his throat before answering, "Eh. Nothin' really. How about you open yours?"

Ash stared at him for a moment; his brown eyes wide and rather frantic and it was obvious he was flustered by the obvious pink tint staining his cheeks and tips of his ears.

"C'mon, what does it say?" she reiterated, not bothering to mask the curiosity in her voice.

"N-Nothing." he chuckled but before he could make up a lame excuse, she pulled the small piece of paper from between his fingers.

What she didn't expect was Johnny to react the way he did.

The gorilla scrambled after the paper and Ash had to flail around so he couldn't grasp it; her short arms waving frantically and his hands chasing her much smaller limbs.

"Johnny! Stoppit!" she screeched as her back met the couch and he tumbled over her. Chest lightly pressing into her own as her arms stretched far over her head as much as they could go.

"It's just a stupid fortune! Give it back!" he panicked and Ash couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"What the *hee!* hell has gotten *ha-ha!* into you?" she choked out between bouts of laughter, still keeping the paper away from him the best she could but the friction of his muscular, heaving chest rubbing on her breasts was far too distracting to keep the ruse up. His fingers soon grasped onto the small rectangular strip of paper as he tried to pull it away but not before her eyes caught the words written in faded ink

"...don't be afraid to take a risk for it may bring you great pleasure?" she breathed, smiling lazily at the panicky gorilla hyperventilating above her. Watching his pupils dilate and face to flush further just had her grin widen.

The innuendo was obviously not lost on him and that just made her job much easier…

"Heh-heh-hee…" he chuckled beside himself as he surreptitiously crumbled the paper before tossing it on the coffee table nearby, "See? It's bloody ridiculous."

Ash was silent for a few seconds; taking in their positioning: splayed on her back and him hovering over her, chest resting on her own as his weight pressed lightly atop her own. She was glad Johnny hadn't noticed yet and she was eager to keep it that way.

"I dunno, Johnny..." she whispered his name sultrily, arms reaching up to grasp gingerly at his shirt and the strong anchor of his wide shoulders.

Ash subconsciously bit her lip when she heard him swallowing thickly at her actions.

"I think it's quite telling…" her voice got lowered to a rasp as she pulled languidly at his shirt and fur until he began to close the distance between them of his own accord.

Johnny's mouth only mere inches away; brows slightly furrowed but accepting as she pulled him to lay over top of her. He never really could resist it when she yanked lovingly at the sensitive fur and skin at his neck. Fingers and nails delving into his thick black coat and caressing at the delicate flesh underneath.

Once their lips were close enough to touch, Ash's eyes slipped closed before playfully brushing her mouth over his as if to test the waters. Careful to notice the slight trembling underneath her fingertips but that faded when his hands appeared; one pressed over her hip and the other cupped her face. Part of her rejoicing when Johnny began participating; lips pursing and pressing over hers; his mouth so soft and supple as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Ash was careful not to make any sudden moves to deter him; only parting her mouth further and was pleased when he did the same. Lips parting and rubbing against each other; a slight wetness building up between their mouths as their lip lock became more intense with each passing second. Toes curling within the confines of her boots as he rested more of his weight on her; the comforting sensation of him so close had her holding back a moan. Her fingers unfurling from his neck to caress his face and brush over his ear that adorably twitched at her contact.

The two were like this for a few good minutes before Ash felt particularly brave; flicking out her tongue to swipe at his thick bottom lip.

Johnny pulled half an inch away to break their lip lock with an audible pop; beautiful brown-eyes half mast as he stared down at her.

Ash stared right back, her icy blue irises and plump mouth beckoning him back in and he went dove right for it like a moth to the blazing inferno. She barely hid the moan as he pressed his mouth over hers again; rough, wet tongue slipping over her lips and she parted hers instantly to allow him entry. Body physically aching for him already as she tried desperately to pull him closer to her. Tugging lightly on his ears and he growled lowly in her mouth and if anything, that just made her ten times hotter.

Johnny's tongue flicking lightly at her own; playfulness in which he kissed had her thighs subconsciously squeezing together. For a long time, he explored her mouth and she allowed him to take over the kiss; allotting him plenty of time to relearn her mouth strictly through exploration. To sense him taking charge and risks encouraged her that they were indeed heading on the right track. Soon, she lost herself to the sensation of his mouth, breath, and taste heavy on her tongue. Hands tiring as they grasped so firmly to keep him close to her but she needn't worry for even as her paws grew slack, Johnny stayed in place.

Body warm and taut against her own as their mouths spoke more than words ever could in this moment. Love, fears, desires all echoed in swipes of tongues, caresses of lips, and melding of breath. Ash lost to the sensation; the desire she'd been experiencing for months now was graspable and seemed to be closing into fruition. Her body was aching for him; nails skirting through his short, thick hair on the back of his head and neck. His shudders of pleasure and light moans he kept giving were any indication, this may very well be the night. The night she'd been waiting for in what may as well have been forever…

…and for that, Ash couldn't be happier…

Ash didn't bother holding back a soft mewl of approval as his thumb skirted over her hipbone and barely disturbing the fabric of her shirt. It wasn't much, but it was a start in the right direction and Ash was determined to keep it that way.

Delving her paws into his hair to massage his skull and he grumbled sweetly into her mouth. Tongue swiping at her own as his thick fingers ghosted over the hem of her shirt before moving it to tease the soft fur on her belly. Feeling him starting to push boundaries, Ash further lost herself to him; scarcely noticing when her foot moved between his thighs. Legs bare except for her boots and skirt brushing the tips of her knees, she adjusted her bottom half a bit to get more comfortable under his weight.

Yet, when she moved her leg slightly left, she was pleasantly surprised to be met by a warm, solid bulge where there was only once loose denim. Beside herself at feeling his need and her own desires building up to a crescendo, she moved. Blood roaring in her ears, she didn't even think twice before she suggestively caressed her calf against it.

As if electrocuted, Johnny pulled away.

The sudden heat extraction of his lips and body was instant torture.

Icy blue eyes frantic and wide as she stared up at Johnny, who was sitting nearly on the other side of the couch. A frustrated sigh left her throat as she looked over at him in obvious embarrassment and guilt; inwardly punching and lecturing herself for her damn blatancy of her actions. Should have known that acting in such a way was a deliberately bad idea but she did it anyway.

Yet, she was desperate to save face for this was the easily farthest they've been to complete sexual fruition and she was full on ready to deliver some remarks when Johnny spoke out in a blind panic.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he mumbled, scooting farther away from her and appeared on the verge of a heart attack as he crossed his legs to cover his obvious erection. "I'm so sorry!"

"Wait, Johnny! W-What's wrong?" Ash gasped out; trying to get her hazy, lust-filled mind to calm down for one second to try and figure out just what to do next.

"I tried, Ash! I really tried! Believe me, I-I wanted to do this right and try to act a certain way to make you happy, and oh my God! This is just a nightmare, I should just lea-"

"Johnny, STOP IT!" Ash loudly interrupted his rant. Standing on the couch, walking over to him to pull at his hands he had covering and rubbing at his face; something he did when he was beyond embarrassed, nervous or frustrated.

At first, his hands remained where they were as he tried to block out her vision of him. He knew that she would never be able to pry them away with his superior strength but Ash was patient.

Gently, she caressed the soft black fur that covered the back of his hands and base of his along his fingers with her thumbs and the skirt of her nails; hating how tense his muscles were underneath her fingertips. It took a few moments of gentle affections, but slowly, he allowed her to peel them away from his face; still not releasing her grasp on his hands as she languidly studied his down-turned face.

Eyes were steadfastly hooked to his lap and it looked as if he was gnawing the inside of his cheek. Yet another nervous habit. Cheeks, flat plane of his nose, and tips of his ears aflame and flushed like they had been much of the night but what shook her was just how utterly sad he looked. An expression she hated seeing on him because it did not belong there.

Never on her sweet, gentle, loving, tender-hearted Johnny.

"Johnny, please look at me." Ash begged, the sound choked when it came out; he didn't immediately obey, but when he did, she swore time stopped.

Tears suddenly rising and sparkling in his big brown eyes damn near shattered her throbbing heart inside her chest.

"I just…I - I don't want to disappoint you…" he whispered brokenly.

"Johnny." she gasped. Those words were none she could have expected from him. From this man who had given her respect, encouragement,and unconditional love - truthfully, nothing she ever really deserved especially considered how much time she'd wasted with her worthless ex.

"What are you talking about?!"Ash couldn't help but chide; angry he could ever fathom such a thing. After all they'd been through; to ultimately find someone like Johnny who'd been a guiding light through the hellish darkness of her break-up and Lance's betrayal. Johnny taught her how to trust again; to let someone in without fear of getting hurt. "…how could you ever disappoint me?"

"Ash, I just don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing… I'm terrified that I'm gonna screw it all up. I-I tried to be forward, to give you what you want and need in a relationship; and heck, Mike probably had the best intentions and better advice about this stuff than I could ever figure out but-"

"Mike?" she couldn't help but interrupt with an impromptu chuckle; confusion thick in her voice as she uttered the mouse's name.

"Aw, bugger! I-I know it was a stupid thing to do, but asking someone seemed to be the most logical option at the time." the confused look on Ash's face caused him to explain further, "Look, my father was never one I could talk to about these romantic or sexual things - same goes for my uncles! It would be downright horrific to ask Rosita - she's like my mum….Gunter was never a choice, and Buster? Ugh…I never drummed up the courage for that one…" he completed with an eye-roll.

"...but seriously - Mike?" Ash reiterated.

"Well, yeah! He's pretty much the only fella I know in a somewhat steady relationship." Johnny answered with a slight shrug, "Other than Norman of course, but I was never comfortable talking to him - always seemed way too tired to hold a decent conversation when he did come around anyway. So, Mike seemed to be the best choice to get some advice from since he and his girlfriend seem to be very much in love and he said all this stuff works for her so I just thought…"

"...but I'm not her though, am I?"

Johnny went silent for a long time before Ash continued.

"I'm not really into sparkly dresses, fast cars, expensive jewelry or hanging at casinos sipping champagne. Ya know, just in case you haven't noticed...I'm a tad simpler than that."

"I know…" he breathed and the warmth of it skirted over her cheek. "You prefer to just be at home; relaxing, listening or writing music, or playing your guitar until your fingers bleed."

Icy blue eyes scanned his face as he spoke; her chest aching at the tenderness in those hazel eyes as her fingers dug and latched tighter onto his hands.

"Taking rides in my truck out of town where you can see the stars easily. Watching old movies at the cinema and even tearing up at some of those tragic romances even when you think no one notices…I do…"

Ash's cheeks flushing at his implication, Johnny continued.

"How…y-you nibble on your nails when you're nervous. Brush off your clothes when you're trying to avert eye contact. Pull on your quills when you concentrate on writing lyrics to your songs." Johnny spoke softly. Ash released his hand when he suddenly tugged for release, moving it to cradle her face with his warm palm. Pad of his thumb skirted tenderly over her parted mouth and she trembled instantly at his touch. "…Bite your lip when you read."

"Yet, even after practicing and working all day. We come home, feel rather shitty at the end of it all especially when I'm either worried about my dad or something else - you're still there. You don't have to say anything to make me feel better. You just do somehow."

"...Johnny…" Ash whimpered out his name; tears threatening to leak from her eyes at the sincerity laced in every single word that was uttered from his mouth.

"Lance is a wanker to have not seen it. A bloody fuckin' idiot to have done that to you Ash…For him to not understand what a beautiful person you are - inside and out…You never deserved what he did to you! He's a fool…"

As he spoke those words; a confession almost of everything he adored about Ash; the tiniest little nuances that wrapped up who she was inside and out - something just clicked in his heart and head.

Johnny's brown eyes scanned languidly over her face as if seeing her for the very first time.

During the long moments in which he took in her stunning physicality, he was silently recalling their relationship and their tireless journey to get here. While tumultuous at times, he wouldn't trade it for the world; dared not change anything that happened in fear it would have ended differently…

It sunk in slowly that this indeed was the same girl he'd first saw over a year ago; the one that seemed to be held back by her overbearing boyfriend and so conflicted about getting chosen over him. The one who was ultimately broken by his betrayal yet amazingly pieced herself together to be even stronger than before. Wrote her own song and proved to the world she had what it took to make it solo - and damn, it was a beautiful thing to witness.

Remembered the first second his eyes fell on her and how they never wanted to divert; how she turned out to be far more than a pretty face and adorable, lazy smile. Strong, resilient like an unmovable willow in hurricane winds; never allowed herself to wallow in her pain for long. Picked herself up by her bootstraps and proved herself to be worthy of any fame she received; showcased herself with a fiery personality and hauntingly powerful voice that chilled him down to his bones every time he heard her sing.

This beautiful girl who let him in; allowed him a backstage pass into her life and amazingly, fell in love with him somewhere in the process. A whirlwind romance that seemed to be as much as a dream as their professional careers once upon a time; as if somehow the stars and planets aligned and fate brought them into this one perfect moment in time to be together.

So many things could have changed it, a butterfly effect of circumstances that shouldn't have happened, but it actually did.

Looking at her now, he felt so foolish to have been afraid about anything at all.

Ash had fully accepted him exactly as he was. Didn't give a shit about his background or the fact his family was essentially a gang of hardened criminals and thieves. Raised and went on countless heists with them; basically a criminal himself by simple association or accessory yet she just shrugged it off in that laid back way. Instantly agreeing to help him locate and hire a good lawyer to defend his father and uncles from harsh persecution. Ash steadfastly a sturdy shoulder to lean on during that lengthy difficult process that would continue for years to come. Yet never once did she question it or think any differently of him or his family and their choices; only a constant rock of support and love he could always count on.

Ash loved, accepted, and supported him through everything already…so why would having sex with her change any of that?

"Johnny?" Ash asked when he realized he'd been quiet for quite some time.

Eyes clearing a bit, he looked at her. Icy blue eyes still teary, he quickly swiped his thumb across her misty eyelashes and she leaned deeper into his careful touch. Gently, he smiled; moving to caress her cheek and he chuckled softly at just how warm her flushed cheeks felt against his hand.

"…and perhaps I'm a bit foolish too…" he continued from his earlier dialogue.

"...why would you say that?" she asked, her small brows furrowed in confusion and he gingerly brushed over them with his thumb to smooth them out.

"For too long, I worried about doing this the right way. Perchance there isn't one." Johnny chuckled; staring in her eyes as she awaited him to speak further.

It was obvious that there really was no right way to go about this - to get over this fear of intimacy or the constant doubts lingering in some sensation of his own incompetence. He'd been through it all and yes, his demure nature was perhaps his greatest hurtle, but damn, he wanted this - wanted her. Desperately wanted to embrace this relationship they had built on trust, mutual respect, unwavering support, and love and be able to take it to the next level…and now was his chance.

"…or maybe…" he whispered and his body moved of its own accord.

Without allowing any more doubts or insecurities to infiltrate his mind, he abruptly pressed his mouth over hers.

Lips pursing and opening just so slightly and after she got over the shock of the suddenness of his actions, her body reacted almost instantly. Ash grasped onto his green shirt with her small paws; caressing the fabric and yanking at it to bring him as close as humanly possible. Johnny, smiling against her lips, did pretty much the same, reaching for her, clutching at her hip; other hand curved over her lower back to hold her close to him.

For a few stolen minutes, they kissed; soft pops and brushings of mouths meeting over and over again. Lost in the sensation, feel, and taste of each other before Johnny pulled away from the kiss for only a moment to take in Ash's rather bemused face.

"...I think I'll try it my way. Ya know - if that's okay…" he breathed hard against her lips; carefully noticing her icy blue eyes flicked down to his lips.

Without saying a word in response, Ash pulled at the lapels of his leather jacket to bring him closer before roughly pressing her mouth back over his.

Johnny smiled against her lips; eyes still at half-mast as he took her in once more as she kissed him.

Any previous trepidation or fear about whatever was to come tonight had silently drifted away; replaced with love and admiration for this girl who changed his life for the better. There would be no telling what to completely expect or if it would go right, but what was life without a little risk? If neither of them took any, they probably never would have ended up together, yet here they are almost a year later. All Johnny knew for that whatever happened tonight - he was going to embrace it.

With that thought, his eyes slipped closed and he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss.

#sing fanfiction #sing illumination #sing johnny #sing ash #johnny #ash #johnny x ash #ash x johnny #love #fanfiction #nsfw-ish #couple #sweet

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