#then also make the cabin look 'lived in' (oh irony) and i have him carrying his dead mentor and putting luka's fingerprints on things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

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songs that make me think of vampy and why

this is for drea and leyla ONLY thank u

daylight- taylor swift "i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you" bc vampy loves her so much he only wants her 😔 midnight love- girl in red "I know I'm the last one you try to call but I always give in to give you it all" "your silver is my gold" bc miss chiropractor treated him terribly but he loved her with everything and would have gone back to her no matter what watch you sleep- girl in red this one is obvious: bc vampy watches bloodbag sleep :) also "the scar on your spine, you fell off a roof when you were nine" is all appreciating the tiny details about someone and that is definitely something vampy would do :( paper rings: taylor swift "i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this" line without a hook- ricky montgomery "oh baby i am a wreck when i'm without you" bc vampy loves bloodbag so much he just wants to be with her always 😔 dead girl in the pool- girl in red this one is kinda weird but i feel like bloodbag is gonna die at some point and then vampy will just be like "theres a dead girl in the pool (or wherever her corpse is laying slfjskldfjkldsj) i don't know what to do" and then he's gonna make this face

bad habits- ed sheeran bc he was just slutting around before he met bloodbag demons- imagine dragons dont make fun of me for this I KNOW but fr it's vampy renegade- taylor swift "you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody" he needs bloodbag 😔 starting line- luke hemmings i can't really explain this one but it's like how you always talk about how his happiness is overshadowed by the fact that he's a monster or whatever million dollar bills - lorde "theres nothing i want but money and time" and vampy has literally all the money and time :) solar power- lorde this is harrys hot girl anthem idk happiness- taylor swift "there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you" this is him reminiscing on miss chiropractor i wanna get better-bleachers "i didn't know i was lonely til i saw your face" "I didn't know i was broken til i wanted to change" come on 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 good 4 u - olivia rodrigo this is his fuck u song for miss chiropractor my tears ricochet- taylor swift "if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake" it's ironic innit 😌 what a feeling- one direction "what a feeling to be right here beside you now, holding you in my arms" please 😔 "everybody needs someone around" 😔😔😔 "but i can't hold you too close now" bc he has severe attachment and commitment issues :) all you had to do was stay- taylor swift "had me in the palm of your hand, then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in" omg miss chiropractor really hurt him 😔 king of my heart- taylor swift "and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for" bloodbag @ vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 cruel summer- taylor swift "I love you ain't that the worst thing you ever heard" bc he knows getting close to bloodbag will ultimately only lead to pain for everyone involved "i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" bc he can't tell bloodbag everything about him even tho he probably wants to :( thank u next- arianna grande this is weird BUT if miss chiropractor hadn't fucked him up so much he never would have met bloodbag tear in my heart- 21 pilots again don't make fun of me for this I HAVE AN EXPLANATION "you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine" if bloodbag fell asleep in his car he would definitely do this :( shape of you-ed sheeran "now my bedsheets smell like you" his room probably smells like honey and lavender all the time now and he's probably foaming at the mouth constantly cowboy in LA "let's skip the club, lets skip the crowd, i wanna take you on a date" bc they both hate clubs!!!!! "I'll hold your hand I'll hold the door bc that's how i was raised" he's a gentleman 😔😔😔😔 & burn- billie eilish "i'll sit and watch your car burn with the fire that you started in me, but you never came back to ask it out" idk for some reason this has vampy and miss chiropractor vibes take me to church- hozier religious trauma babes 🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼 speechless- dan+shay "i'm speechless, staring at you standing there in that dress" love 😔 yours- russel dickerson "i came to life when i first kissed you, the best me has his arms around you, you make me better than i was before, thank god i'm yours" SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SHAKING tolerate it- taylor swift "i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it" MISS ******** DIDN"T APPRECIATE OR CELEBRATE HIS LOVE MIA- anarbor "thinking about my life and everything i did wrong along the way"😔 lay low- josh turner for when bloodbag and vampy go to a cabin in the woods for a week and just love each other 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 who can save me now- anarbor "you stabbed me in the back" this one is pretty literal LSKFJLKSJFLKDSJ "you could have at least been kind enough to let me turn around" ouch 😔 dopamine- anarbor "i'm hooked on your dopamine" vampy and bloodbag ugh lie to me- 5sos this give me vampy and ******** vibes "i wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget" "while i'm cleaning up your mess i know he's taking

off your dress" bc she probably cheated on him while they were together 😔 and he would have stayed with her if she told him she loved him, even if he knew it was a lie 😔 cotton candy- yungblud it's just a happy song with good vibes like bloodbag and vampy currently have :) small talk- niall horan i don't even have to say anything here pillowtalk- zayn "so we'll piss off the neighbors" chappy 9 vibes dancing with our hands tied- taylor swift "i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us" vampy rn 😔 once in a lifetime- one direction vampy will live a million lifetimes but he will only ever have one bloodbag 😔 holy ground- taylor swift "tonight i'm gonna dance for all that we've been through but I don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you" they've come so far omg 😔 since we're alone- niall horan "you can show me your heart, if you put it all in my hands no i swear no i won't break it apart" crying if i could fly- one direction "for your eyes only i'll show you my heart" rollercoaster- bleachers again i can't explain it but it makes me think of him 😔 so long- niall horan "so if we knew all along why did it take so long" good question bestie current location- LANY "i need your current location to be my current location" they're idiots in love and want to be together all the time 😔 why dont we go there- one direction "hey i don't want you to be the one that got away i wanna get addicted to you you're rushing through my mind i wanna feel the high i wanna be addicted" well hes already addicted to her blood so might as well like you lots- LANY bc they both have issues and can't say love lmao too much to ask- niall horan vampy though wanting love was too much to ask of miss chiropractor 😔 walking in the wind- one direction this one just has his vibes man 😔 heartbeat- carrie underwood "dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat" bc vampy is obsessed with listening to bloodbag's heart (fan behavior if you ask me) idfc- blackbear this is vampy and ******** bc "tell me that you love me even if it's fake" city of angels- 24kgoldn "i sold my soul to the devil for designer" yes this made me laugh the woods- olivver the kid "waking up in the middle of the woods" "don't you wanna get out of here, out of the woods" flashback to when he was dead in the woods oop "you brought me down to the river, and you pushed me in, hoping that the white rapids would challenge my ability to swim" bc... she's a murderer omg this verse is talking about leaves and i'm freaking out it fits 100% this is crazy "You pick up two handfuls You tell me they're all dried up & dead You know that's nothing like us We'll live forever instead" just a little bit of your heart- ariana grande vampy bc he loves so deeply and completely that he will give all of himself to someone even if they won't do the same my strange addiction- billie eilish bc he is addicted to her blood :) cross your mind- niall horan this is vampy and ******** "love the way you hurt me and it doesn't even cross your mind" "leaving me in pieces (literally lmao) but i swear it's worth it every time" everywhere- niall horan that scene where vampy smelled some perfume or soap or something and it made him think of bloodbag 😔 everything makes him think of her now 😔 "swear it's hard to think it's hard to breathe when you're in the air" put a little love on me- niall horan "you're the only one i need" 😔 bend the rules- niall horan VAMPY AND ******** ALL THE WAY "i'm not saying that you're lying but you're leaving out the truth" heartbreak weather- niall horan "all of my life i've been sleepwalk living, running around the same bars i've been in, it can be so lonely in this city, but it feels different when you're with me" bloodbag and vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 mr loverman- ricky montgomery "i miss my lover man" vampy is probably dramatic like this all the time now that they're official 😔 bad blood- taylor swift again, just for the irony 😌 vapor- 5sos "i want to breathe you in like a vapor i want to be the one you remember i want to feel

your love like the weather all over me" they're so in love like this 😔 catch fire- 5sos "all my life i've been waiting for moments to come" he's been waiting for bloodbag his entire life 😔 beside you-5sos "i wish i was beside you" they want to be together all the time 😔 black and white- niall horan "that first night i was standing at your door fumbling for your keys then i kissed you" ARE YOU KIDDING ME not in the same way- 5sos this is vampy and ******** just bc they were so toxic lkfjskldfjsdlkjf lonely heart-5sos "and i haven't slept in days" lmao ghost of you-5sos "my feet dont dance like they did with you" thinking about when vampy danced for bloodbag and what if they break up 👁️👁️ why wont you love me- 5sos vampy at ******** 😔 he just wanted to be loved 😔😔😔😔😔 fool's gold- one direction "i let you use me from the day that we first met" "i know your love's not real, but that's not the way it feels" STOP IM SAD last first kiss- one direction "let me be your last first kiss" i want them to be together forever 😔 truly madly deeply- one direction "foolishly completely falling and somehow you kicked all my walls in" bloodbag really snuck into his heart huh 😔 fireproof -one direction "nobody saves me baby the way you do" ugh 😔 long story short-taylor swift "clung to the nearest lips long story short it was the wrong guy" (or in vampy's case the wrong vampire) gold rush-taylor swift "and the coastal town we run around has never seen a love as pure as it" bloodbag and vampy are all i want 😔 no judgement- niall horan bc vampy would never judge bloodbag 😔 daddy issues- the neighborhood again im not even gonna say anything here new angel- niall horan "the touch of someone else to save me from myself" this is vampy 😔 god is a woman- ariana grande vampy after he brought bloodbag home the first time something like this- the chainsmokers "just something i can turn to, somebody i can kiss" ALL VAMPY WANTS IS LOVE sweater weather- the neighborhood idk this song makes me think of him all of me- john legend "all of me loves all of you all your curves and all your edges all your perfect imperfections" KSFLKSDJFKLDJSFLJSDKLFJDSKL i like me better- lauv "i like me better when i'm with you" she makes him a better person 😔 sex- eden "oh no, i think i'm catching feelings" vampy when bloodbag went on a date with someone else half a heart- one direction bc bloodbag completes him 😔 theyre so disgusting 😔 only angel- harry styles "turns out she's a devil in between the sheets" woman- harry styles vampy when she was on a date with someone else bc hes a jealous moron temporary fix- one direction this has chappy 1-2 vibes a.m.-one direction when they first started falling in love and he wanted to be with her more often 😔 something great- one direction "i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i don't have to keep imagining" through the dark- one direction just all of this song 😔 happily- one direction "you know i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep i just want it to be you and i forever" 😔 electric love- borns "i can't let you go now that i got it" canyon moon- harry styles they're just happy like this rn 😔 sunflower vol. 6- harry styles "kiss in the kitchen like it's a dancefloor" "mouth full of toothpaste" when they brushed their teeth together 😔 adore you- harry styles obviously

#music #og post

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

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Hurricane (Part 2)

Part 1

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.7k Warning: Nothing outright. The story is rated T+. Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story.

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It took the group of friends thirty minutes to gather all their things and pack it all into Ethan’s borrowed sedan. They’d all be lying if they said they weren’t terrified of crashing the luxury vehicle or leaving a scuff on the pristine black leather seats. Elijah’s mind raced with all the expletives and face contortions Dr. Ramsey could throw their way if something befell his property.

With four hours and twenty six minutes until high tide Becca programmed the navigation for Naveen’s river-house and the friends carefully made their way through the torrential start of the storm and out of the city.

The ride was relatively silent as they drove with caution. It wasn’t until they made it onto the near-empty highway that someone spoke the looming question in the air.

“Are you and Ramsey back together?” Sienna asked from the backseat.

Becca’s eyes widened.

In the commotion she didn’t even think of what this excursion would look like to those outside of her and Ethan’s secluded little bubble. Becca herself didn’t even know what they were. They spent time together outside of work, sure. But does that mean they’ve been unknowingly dating for the last few months?

What she did know was that Ethan Ramsey and Rebecca Lao were not officially dating, not now and never were.

Becca looked straight ahead at the disappearing road before them, mulling over her next words carefully.

“We were never together,” she dismissed so eloquently and added for good measure, “And we’re friends.” She habitually bit her lip in hopes they’d stop the inquisition.

“Bec, he gave you his car.” Elijah piped in, his grip on the door handle loosening a bit as his thoughts were moved from the impending doom.

Elijah and Sienna were the only two friends who had an inkling of what had perspired between Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Lao - they did in fact catch the former sneaking out of the apartment one morning last year. Ever since the two kept Becca’s secret and gleefully watched the two doctor’s interactions with a new and keen interest.

Becca was quick to retort, “How else were we supposed to get to Naveen’s?”

Sienna tried to stifle a giggle at how uncomfortable her best friend had become, “He also asked you to stay with him at Naveen’s.”

“He also said you guys could come. He’s concerned, is all.” Becca explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. To her this situation wasn’t as weird as they were making it out to be. If Ethan and Naveen were in a pinch of course she would lend a helping hand. The two older diagnosticians had become staples in her life over the last year and a half, and although she knew hospital politics meant most colleagues couldn’t comprehend their bond she was hoping her friends would. With a definitive nod she added, “Friends helping friends in their time of need.”

Elijah egged once more, “So there’s nothing between you?”

“We’re not dating, no.”

What was between us? Becca thought to herself.

Mutual respect? Definitely. An unconditional affinity for the other? Surely. Was it time to finally define their intentions? The jury’s still out.

With a mischievous gleam in her eye Sienna knew this was going to be a very informative and eye-opening experience for everyone.

***

After an hours drive and missing the hidden driveway nearly twice the group of friends finally made it to Naveen’s cabin. The rain was still consistently falling in large punishing splatters and the sky above loomed darker than before. The river was higher than she’d ever seen it, yet still so calm and accepting of the bullets colliding at its surface.

Sienna wheeled Elijah into the foyer with nearly all of their bags while Becca disarmed the alarm with the code Ethan texted her. They removed all their wet clothes, leaving them on the designated hooks and shoe rack before dividing up the goods.

“How many bedrooms are there?” the spritely doctor asked as she made sure all the food she packed was accounted for.

“Three,” Becca explained, “Two down here. This one’s Naveen’s new room if I remember correctly.” She pointed to a door on the back far right wall just before the double doors leading to the den. “Then one more upstairs.”

She recalled how the old doctor had asked her and Landry to move his belongings from the upstairs master bedroom down to that one so it would be easier for him to move around. Back when he thought the phage therapy was futile and that he was dying.

“Perfect,” Sienna squeaked. “Room for Naveen. One for me and Elijah. And one for you and Ramsey.”

Becca scoffed at the thought of her and Ethan sharing the same bed with so many other eyes around. It took a while for Ethan to finally let her share his bed once again after giving her space in his life in the form of his second bedroom whenever she stayed over to work on cases or just enjoy his company. Events from the past year rolled through her mind at rapid speed, recalling all the times they’d lean on one another mentally, hold one another physically, and then Ethan would push her away emotionally. They were teetering on a fine line and Becca didn’t know if it was in her best interest to fall or continue trekking at a stagnant pace.

“He’ll probably sleep on the couch in the den,” she told her friends in earnest.

Sienna smirked knowingly, completely bemused by the whole conversation. There was simply no reason her best friend should know so much about the chief of medicine’s home or her boss’s habits if there wasn’t anything between them. Naveen is Ramsey’s most trusted friend and not even months of doctoring together could bring these intimately behavioral facts to light.

The girls unpacked the food in Naveen’s narrow kitchen glad they brought more than necessary, odds are they would be held up here for a while. Meanwhile Elijah sat in the living room near the big bay window reading one of the comics he brought with him, the staging a bit too close together for him to move freely throughout the cabin.

“Just out of curiosity,” Elijah called out, “wouldn’t the river flood too?”

“Huh. I didn’t think about that,” Becca uttered, the wheels in her head now turning. Rivers do flood, lakes don’t. The river is probably connected to the bay… So why had they sought shelter here? She quickly stopped her thoughts and shrugged, “Seems like a question for Dr. Banerji though.”

Sienna noticed the permanent furrow of worry between Elijah's eyes. Trying to console her friend she added, “It’s got to be safe if they’re taking refuge here.”

Becca folded up the empty reusable bags that carted their food and moved to put them with their luggage still idling waiting by the front door. “Ethan definitely doesn’t want Naveen anywhere near a natural disaster after last year’s events.”

“Doesn’t want you deep in one either.” Sienna tried desperately to hide the smile from her face.

Elijah chuckled, “Becca is a natural disaster.”

“A her-icane,” Sienna added with wit.

Elijah continued, “Completely disobedient. Follows whims.”

Sienna was so giddy in her addition of, “Breaking Ramsey down, wearing him thin.”

“Hey!” Becca scolded them playfully. She knew they didn’t mean any harm and were only quoting one of her favorite songs back to her. However the irony wasn’t lost on her.

“We know you don’t mean to be chaotic sometimes.” Sienna bounded over to her closest friend and wrapped her tiny arms around Becca. “We love you anyway.”

***

An hour later they saw bright lights breaking through the fog and heard car doors slamming in the distance. Becca opened the front door to a soaking wet Naveen walking in first with a rambunctious Jenner on the lead. Ethan wasn’t far behind carrying his overnight bag and two coolers of food.

“How was the drive?” she asked.

“Uneventful, luckily,” Naveen responded with his signature fatherly smile.

Sienna stood up and greeted, “Hi, Dr. Banerji. Lovely home you have here.”

Ethan slipped off his coat and shoes and bounded into the kitchen to drop the things off without saying a word.

“Please, Sienna, call me Naveen. You’re in my home, no need for formalities outside the hospital. That goes for you as well Elijah.”

The smile that spread across the young doctor’s face was that of a kid who had just met his childhood hero. “I’m honored.”

Naveen turned back to Becc, “Rebecca can you grab a towel from my bathroom please. Don’t want a wet dog running around.”

“Oh, of course!” She scurried off to the other side of the house and grabbed the first towel she found in the downstairs en-suite. When she came back Jenner tried to jump at Becca but Naveen held the lead tightly, his glasses still clouded with raindrops.

Becca grabbed the lead and motioned, “Go ahead, I’ll dry him off.”

He removed the spectacles and smiled brightly at the woman he considered a daughter, “I’ll go help Ethan.”

Beca threw the towel over Jenner’s wiggly body and knelt down to begin to dry him off. It was a feat. The pup was so excited to see her he kept jumping up and licking whatever part of her he could get at. The antics sent Becca into a fit of sing-song laughter.

“I missed you too buddy,” she cooed. She looked straight into his elated amber eyes and asked, “What’ve you been up to?” He popped up and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” She brought the towel up to dry the underside of his neck and he lunged with another kiss. “Thank you.” Becca couldn’t help but return the favor, planting a nice big smooch to his soft cheek.

“He’s so cute!” Sienna cried, kneeling down to share in the action.

“Isn’t he?” Jenner wasn’t Becca’s dog but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a sense of motherly pride for the good boy.

Sienna whispered in her ear, “Just like his owner.”

“He’s cuter,” Becca said flatly as she rubbed behind his ears. “Better personality too.”

Just then they heard that deep velvety baritone voice admonish, “Rookie, are you insulting my dog?”

“Nope,” Becca chimed and leaned in to give Jenner another kiss on the nose.

Sienna couldn’t help the giggle.

After the food was settled away in the kitchen, Ethan and Naveen spread out the furniture in the main living space to make it more accessible for Elijah. Sienna sat on the rug by the coffee table completely enamored with Jenner, while Becca and Elijah finished the game of checkers they started moments before the older doctors’ arrival.

“I’m making a meat lasagna for dinner, is that alright with everyone?” Ethan asked the eclectic group of medical professionals.

They all agreed with a mix of nods, “yes” and “sounds good”.

Sienna looked up to see the attending standing behind the rotated sofa with a look of apprehension drawn all over his features. He seemed like he was in a daze and she wondered what could possibly be plaguing his mind. “Do you need any help, Dr. Ramsey? Becca and I would be more than happy to lend a hand.”

Ethan shook his head slowly, “Thank you for the offer, but please keep the old man company.” He took one quick sweep of the room as if he was taking in the physical symptoms of a patient, trying to diagnose how these next few days will play out.

In his absence, Naveen and the young residents spoke about the weather and how they seem to be getting on in their second year, and what hobbies they had besides working. Death's door gave Naveen an appreciation for all the small things in life and now he made sure he gave ample time to his other passions, such as painting, fishing and reading. Noting how Naveen only owned a small television and not many movies, Elijah took it upon himself to quiz the man on his imperative film knowledge.

Already knowing which way this conversation was going Becca opted to cater, “I’ll see if Ramsey needs help.” She stood up and left Sienna to mediate the depth of the conversation.

There in the middle of the tiny kitchen was Ethan staring blankly into a pot of tomato sauce as if he was looking for a deeper meaning to his worries, and a dish towel draped over his shoulder. Becca leaned on the wooden door frame and took in the sight of the man she’s seen cook on many occasions. This time was different. The motions and methodology to his recipe didn’t seem to soothe him like usual. He was standing as straight as possible, his shoulders tense under his white button-down, and from the side she could see the three lines of perplexity etched into his forehead.

“You okay?” she asked quietly from her position.

He didn’t need to look at her to know her light brown eyes had darkened over with concern. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied as he intently stirred his sauce.

“Seem a little on edge.” Becca pushed herself off the wall and closed the distance between them. She could now fully see what Ethan had been preparing - a large pot of tomato sauce, minced beef already seasoned and cooked through sitting on a back burner, a tray and cheeses laid out on the counter to his left. She was so close to him, her chest a nudge away from pressing itself against his side.

Out of the corner of his right eye he let himself admire the short brunette and the way she was this close and still smelled like sweet freesia after a long day and the rain. “I assure you I am fine.”

Her eyes darted up and caught him staring, a small smile begging to shine just for him. She moved ever so much closer, letting her left hand fall to the small of Ethan’s back and her head rest lightly on his upper arm. “This is weird, isn’t it?” she paused before clarifying “Them being here?”

Without hesitation Ethan sighed, “God, yes.” His free hand moved briskly to rub down his face. “I didn’t think - I- I’m glad we could help. It feels…” he stumbled over his words and Becca finished for him, no doubt in her mind they were feeling the same way about the situation;

“Foreign?”

He nodded once, “Like I’ve stepped into someone else's life.”

“What?” Becca pulled her body away from his, obviously taken aback by his admission. To her the situation just felt unfamiliar and scary that what they tried so hard to protect could now be out in the open. But his choice of words made her feel less than, like Ethan didn’t want to be there with her or her friends, or even make any effort at curating a semblance of a normal relationship.

Ethan moved away from her and to the counter. “Stir the sauce,” he commanded.

Becca picked up the wooden spoon from where he left it in the pot, watching him intently.

Ethan grabbed a knife and began slicing a ball of mozzarella. Becca opened her mouth to say something but he was quicker, “I can handle you, me and Naveen. That’s a bubble I don’t mind,” he began to explain. “I don’t know how I feel about letting your friends into my business.”

She wanted to reach out for him but knew leaving the sauce to burn would create a whole other world of problems in an already delicate situation. “You can trust them. I do, with my life,” she said sweetly, trying to convey years of gratitude in just a few words. When he didn’t respond she added, “At any rate they know there’s something between us and just want us to be happy.”

He suddenly stopped his movements and gave her a side eye, silently asking if she told them of their situation. He knew she would never break his trust but he needed the confirmation - he needed to be sure nothing was hanging out there and on the line.

Becca shook her head in reassurance.

His shoulders slouched briefly as he brought his attention back to the cheese at hand.

She let a few moments pass before saying, “Be yourself, Ethan. That’s all any of us ask of you.”

________________________________________

A/N: Really disappointed in myself for not adding Bryce into the mix. I’d live for some Ethan/MC/Bryce jealousy angst. Some other story I guess.. 😞

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay

#ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fanfic #choices open heart #choices oph2 #naveen banerji #elijah greene #sienna trinh #oph #oph ff #ff #jenner the dog

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walviemort · 4 years

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hidden blessing (5/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: Hope I didn’t keep y’all waiting too long on this! Not sure when the next chapter will go up but hopefully not as long :) We’re into Neverland now! and, as always, dedicated to the darling @sherlockianwhovian

Splashing down in Neverland filled Killian with an array of emotions, few of them positive. They’d made it through the portal in one piece, thankfully, but just the sight of the cursed island looming on the horizon filled him with dread. Getting here had been the easy part; gods only knew what lay ahead.

“Is that it?” Emma called out once the ship had set itself to rights (Killian was mildly jealous of it; his stomach matched the churning sea below them).

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Neverland.”

He couldn’t see her face to read her expression, but the determined set of her shoulders told him everything: she was willing to risk all to save her son. He saw similar in the fierce expression Regina wore, even in the composed and precise manner of Snow and David. And yet again he wondered: was he really cut out for parenting?

His life was dangerous. Hell, he himself was known to be. Yet again, he’d dragged his child to this timeless realm; how long would the babe’s growth be stalled now? What if something happened to him? What if Pan found a way to use it against them?

As if to calm him down, he felt a few strong kicks just behind his navel. Well, that was a good sign, he supposed. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and set to the task of navigating them to the island.

“Why are you slowing down?” Regina snapped, suddenly at his side. “In case you didn't know, my son's life is in danger.”

He bit back a huff, only because he knew her anger was a mask for her fear. “Oh, I know, my hot-headed Queen. The plan is to bring us to the far side of the island, link up with the widest part of the river, and.. then we sail right through, take him by surprise,” he explained. “The irony…” he muttered under his breath.

“What irony?” she asked, much more calmly.

“Oh, I spent more time than I care to remember trying to leave this place to kill Rumplestiltskin. And here I am, sailing right back into its heart with him as my guest of honor.” The man in question had disappeared below deck nearly as soon as they landed. “It's not quite the happy ending I was hoping for.”

Regina seemed oddly thoughtful. “Greg Mendell said something funny to me. He said I'm a villain, and that villains don't get happy endings. You believe that?”

Weeks ago, he would have concurred; but now… “I hope not, or we've wasted our lives.”

“I thought Henry was going to be mine,” she admitted quietly. “Little did I know he’d just be the start of another adventure.” Then she smiled at him. “You’ll know what I’m talking about soon enough.”

“Assuming we all make it out of this alive,” he tossed back, expressing his own realism as he overheard a tense bit of conversation between the Charming family that seemed to revolve around the inherent optimism Emma had not inherited. “Though, I have been meaning to ask—how could you tell?”

“That you were knocked up? Please; I’m Cora’s daughter. She taught me long ago how to look for any signs of weakness. And Hook? You’re practically glowing,” she told him, smirking.

He couldn't hold back his own smile at that; while logically, he knew that put him at risk to other enemies knowing, it was also kind of nice to know his own newfound source of joy showed in his demeanor. It had been well over a century since he’d even really had anything to be happy about.

Their attention was drawn to the deck by Snow’s insistent promise to Emma of, “We'll find Henry.” Well, that was the point, wasn't it?

“No, you won't.” From nowhere, the Dark One had appeared on the quarterdeck, his earlier instruments put away and now in garb typical of the Enchanted Forest.

“Oh, that's a great use of our time—a wardrobe change,” Killian quipped, but if Gold heard, he didn’t acknowledge it—and instead went on to lecture the group on how they would not succeed in their endeavor.

“What makes you think I'm gonna fail?” Emma bit back, angry, and he didn’t blame her. (In fact, it was rather when he liked her best—passionate.)

“Well, how could you not?” Rumplestiltskin insisted. “You don't believe in your parents, or in magic, or even yourself.”

“I slayed a dragon. I think I believe.” Now that was a story Killian needed to hear.

“Only what was shown to you. When have you ever taken a real leap of faith? You know, the kind where there's absolutely no proof?” The Dark One continued his diatribe, but Killian’s gaze was fixed on Emma—and the way he could see the doubts and fear beginning to cloud her mind.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” she insisted, but he could tell she was trying to convince herself as much as Gold.

“Well, you just need someone to tell you what that is. Sorry, dearie, our foe is too fearsome for hand-holding.” That, unfortunately, was accurate. “Neverland is a place where imagination runs wild. And, sadly, yours doesn't.” And then the bastard disappeared. Alas, it was just as well. Plus, the man was starting to make Killian nauseous.

Or perhaps that was just the babe; he’d never been one to be seasick but considering everything, he was definitely feeling a bit green. He used the silence that followed the Dark One’s departure to make sure they were set on the right course, but once that was set, he asked the Charmings to hold the helm while he sought out the ginger drops he knew were hiding in his cabin.

He was only slightly surprised to find Emma had beaten him down there, and was practicing pullups on a bar in the room. She paused when she heard his footsteps.

“Oh, don't stop on my account,” he said, admiring the view as he walked past. Her form-fitting trousers were stirring other sorts of feelings in him; goodness, these hormones were going to give him whiplash.

“Wouldn't think of it,” she replied, pretending to ignore him, and went back to it.

He easily located the drops, sitting in a pouch on his desk. “What are you doing?” he had to ask.

“Getting ready for a fight,” she bit back, pulling herself up and then landing back on the platform.

“Well, I've never known you to need to get ready for a fight. I thought it was a natural state,” he teased as he grabbed the bag, then reapproached her. “Don't let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love.”

She jumped down from the ledge and leveled a glare at him. “Why did you come down here? What is that?” she demanded, nodding at the bag in his hand.

“Ginger drops,” he said, then quickly realized he wasn’t ready to divulge his need of them. “They help with seasickness; Her Highness was looking a bit green around the gills.”

That got a bit of a smile out of her, and thankfully she bought the lie. Although, when he glanced at the shelf to the left of them, he remembered something hidden inside—something that might boost her morale.

“Might you permit me to give you something?” he asked, not wanting to offend her. She nodded.

He pocketed the drops and fished out a key from another pocket. “You know, Baelfire and I once spent a lot of time together,” he started to explain as he unlocked a compartment built into the shelf.

“He was always Neal to me,” she replied, albeit morosely.

“Yeah. Right,” he acknowledged, then grabbed the object hidden behind the small door. “This was his.”

It was a sword—a small cutlass he had once used to teach the lad how to fight, and damn near took his own head off when things went sour. Gingerly, Emma took it from him with both hands.

“I didn't realize you were sentimental,” she said as she assessed it.

“I'm not,” he lied again, and saw another useful item sitting on the shelf. “I just thought you could use it where we're going. You know, to fight.” And then he handed her the shot glass.

“Thanks,” she said as he filled it with rum from his flask, which he then offered up in a toast.

“To Neal.” (He knew what all the books said about drinking during pregnancy, but given the current stasis, one shot likely couldn’t hurt.)

“To Neal,” she answered, and clinked the glass against the flask before downing the shot. (Guilt got the better of him, and he only had a small sip.)

After a brief, but not uncomfortable silence, Emma asked, “How long was he with you?”

“Long enough for me to know that I miss him, too,” he answered, this time truthfully. As surreptitiously as he could, he rested his hand on his belt—because he could feel the sudden intense flutters within, as if the child somehow knew they were talking about their sibling—or perhaps was encouraging him to do something else.

Emma had shown utmost trust in him in undertaking this journey. And if they were going to get through this and achieve their goal, then that was going to have to go all directions. It would be fair of him to show he trusted her by revealing his condition, wouldn’t it?

He swallowed and was about to tell her, but the small peace they’d had was interrupted by a loud bang against the hull and sudden groaning and creaking of the ship.

“What was that?” Emma blurted out, and they quickly dashed up to the deck to see what was amiss.

Emma’s parents were struggling to hold the wheel steady, and the waves were tossing the ship about like it was a toy. Only he quickly realized—this was no natural storm, and a glance over the railing confirmed his fears.

HIs nausea would have to wait, lest none of them survive. He made a mad dash for the helm to try to wrest control of it. “Prepare for attack!”

“Be more specific,” Regina demanded, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

“If you've got a weapon, then grab it,” he called out as he fought against the wheel.

“What's out there? A shark? A whale?” Emma guessed; if only she’d guessed right.

“A kraken?” her father added.

“Worse.” An unholy screeching filled the air. “Mermaids.”

The next—gods, he wasn’t even sure how long—fell into a blur of panic and anger as the vile creatures mounted their attack and his passengers made the idiotic mistake of not only bringing one on board, but angering her even more (and possibly killing her). Which of course brought on a violent storm and even more vicious emotions; it was all he could do to keep the prince’s fists away from Killian’s abdomen (again).

And then Emma leapt into the sea, taking his stomach with her. They managed to save her but it left him with an uncomfortable amount of adrenaline in his system, even if their cooperation ended up dissipating the storm. Bloody Neverland and its odd magic.

Despite a breach in the hull, he managed to get the Roger to land, although not where he had planned. And it would need repairs before they could attempt to leave the realm. But at least they’d made it this far.

And to think—this would likely be the easy part.

To his shock, Regina voiced her support of his original plan once they made landfall, but even he knew that a sneak attack was unlikely to happen at this point; there was no way Pan didn’t know they were there, not after what had just happened on the sea. There was an aggravating omniscience about that boy.

“It's time we stop running,” Emma lectured. “Gold was right. This land is run on belief. All of us have been too busy being at each other's throat to be believers. I was as wrong as anyone else. It's time for all of us to believe. Not in magic, but in each other.”

“You want to be friends? After everything that's happened between all of us?” As inclined as he was to agree with Emma, Regina had a point; he had not one but two sore spots on his face from David.

“I don't want or expect that. I know there's a lot of history here, a lot of hate,” Emma countered.

“Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you're not yelling at me,” Killian quipped in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. And then immediately regretted it; gods, did pregnancy brain also mean he blurted out his every thought? He’d need to sharpen that, and quickly.

“We don't need to be friends. What we need now is the only way to get Henry back, which is cooperation.”

“With her? With him?” the prince protested, gesturing Killian’s way. “No, Emma. We have to do this the right way.” Killian did manage to bite back a comment on the prince’s self-righteousness.

“No, we don't. We just need to succeed. And the way we do that is by just being who we are—a hero, a villain, a pirate.” He had to admit the slight thrill it gave him when Emma’s gaze lingered on him. “It doesn't matter which, because we're going to need all those skills, whether we can stomach them or not.”

“And what's your skill, Savior?” Regina tossed back.

“I'm a mother. And now I'm also your leader. So either help me get my son back or get out of the way.” And without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and headed towards the jungle.

Gods, he loved it when she was fired up like that.

Snow was quick to follow Emma, as was David, who cast an oddly inviting look Killian’s way, as if challenging him to turn back now. Which, of course, he wouldn’t.

Killian didn’t hesitate to fall in line, but not before throwing a glance at Regina; she was still put out, it seemed, by Emma’s take charge attitude. Someone had to, though. And Henry was her son, too.

She wasn’t far behind him.

It quickly became apparent that, as the only one who had any idea where they were, Killian should lead; he knew there was a ridge not far up that would give them a decent view of the island and hopefully reveal Pan’s hiding spot. Regina balked at the idea of hiking, but was convinced otherwise when they reminded her of the dangers at every turn.

“He’s right,” Emma told her. “Hook's lived here before. If he says hiking up is the best way, then we listen.” He wasn’t expecting the vote of confidence, but it was nice to have; he wasn’t naive enough to think that perhaps his attraction was reciprocated, but it was an extra reminder that he had Emma’s trust—which wasn’t easy to come by.

But of course, the wriggling thing in his belly was a reminder that he needed to place equal trust in her.

At least—after he saved the idiot next to him from slashing his way to death.

He saw the vines before he saw David swing back to slice at them and was able to shout a warning and get his hook around the man’s bicep before he could make contact.

The prince shook him off angrily. “I can handle a couple of thorns.”

“That's dreamshade,” Killian explained, nodding toward the demonic plant. “It's not the thorns you have to worry about. It's the poison they inject you with. This plant is the source of the toxins I used on the Dark One.”

They were all familiar, it seemed, with his failed assassination attempt—but were aware of its potency, and seemed to take his message about its effects to heart. Killian wasn’t about to lose another ally to that venom, even if they weren’t exactly on friendly terms.

“I suggest we go this way,” he directed, nodding down the path to the right of the bush.

David glanced at it, then looked the other direction. “We'll go this way.” Bloody obstinate arse. But Snow followed him, and then it was Regina’s turn to throw a wry glance his way.

Emma came up behind her and he fell into step with her. “Your father's a distrustful fellow,” he observed.

“He's just not used to working with the bad guys.”

“I can assure you, on this island, I am not the bad guy.”

“Yeah, well, Pan's not supposed to be one either,” she countered.

“What possibly gave you that idea?” The concept of that demon be considered remotely good turned his stomach (unless that was just the usual nausea stirring up again).

“Every story I ever heard as a child,” she explained, oblivious to his discomfort.

“Well, they got it all wrong. Pan is the most treacherous villain I've ever faced.” He tried to swallow down the bile that was churning inside, and decided to change the subject slightly. “Tell me something, love. In these stories...what was I like? Other than a villain. Handsome, I gather?”

She smirked, but not necessarily in a good way. “If waxed mustaches and perms are your thing.”

Sometimes, it felt like they were speaking different languages. “I take it by your tone, perms are bad?”

She just laughed a bit as they continued on, but they didn’t get much farther before the contents of his stomach came up with little warning. He managed to bite out an “excuse me” before ducking alongside a tree and retching. Ugh, he’d hoped with things in stasis, this part of pregnancy would be on pause, too; apparently not.

“Woah, Hook—are you okay?” Emma asked, hovering near his side. “You’re not hungover or something, are you?”

It took a moment to catch his breath. “Far from it,” he replied.

“Did you catch some rare Neverland stomach bug or something? Is that something else we need to worry about?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “I suppose you could call it that, but it has nothing to do with Neverland.”

He straightened from his hunched-over position to find her staring at him with her brow furrowed, both assessing him and confused at the same time. “What is going on, then? It’s going to be hard for you to guide us if you’re not 100%.”

Well, it looked like she was going to force his hand. “If you must know,” he started, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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spnsmile · 4 years

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[Hello! I understand this can be upsetting to some so tags are on: RPF, ENGINE FAILURE, ANGST, EMOTIONALLY HURT/ COMFORT/ FLUFF] work of fiction BUT FLUFF/ KISSES

Response to @cocklesdestielfiction prompt BOTTLE (Cockles, a 5K story)

“The right engine exploded… like… BOOM!”

— Richard Speight Jr. (VegasCon 2020)

********

“Where’s Misha?” says Jensen above the steady hum of the plane’s engine blending with sounds of shuffling bags, pitter-patters, and clinking glasses but Misha can always hear him perfect pitch or not.

“Here.” he heaved himself from the end of the aisle after unloading his personal bag with the other smaller luggage. He can hear Cliff talking to the attendant by the coach but he’s just too tired to say hello.

“Hey, Cliff.”

Misha’s eyebrows rake up and unfortunately for him that’s all he can muster with his limp. There’s a blunt grunt from the security papa bear.

“Nappy time for you, Misha. You look shit.”

“Thanks.” he grimaces. After ten hours on set (and that’s without Jared), he’s just too exhausted. Stalking to the cabin seats, Misha joined the others with bleary eyes.

He catches glinting green whose cherry lips begin to form into a wild smile. There has to be some rule about instant rejuvenation just from receiving that dose from such a nice face.

Richard beats them both in whatever shit they were about to say.

“Service is slowing, Misha. Your customer’s been addressing his complaints to the not-so-proper authorities.”Misha sniggers.

“Who’s proper here, do tell.”

“Jensen’s not being proper at adulting.” Alex supplies staring out at the green primo uomo Misha’s been ignoring. The whine comes. It’s like a sweet tickle on his ears. Petulant and cheeky growly voice—signs Misha learned—since his first day—never to encourage.

“Misha! Mish! One more call you’re gonna deliver a bar.”

He turns.

“Been callin you out.”

“You do that to spite me, fucker.” Misha drawls, walking to Jensen and holding out another bottled water that has to be his 8th. “Here. Don’t believe the media when they tell you the world will never run out of water. Maison says the water sprites will invoke the right to strike just on principle.”

“Sweet faerie. But I believe you. You just hoarded eight hundred Aquafina.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

If Jensen wasn’t giggling so dorkily at him, he would have snatched the bottle and cursed him for the reminder. But Misha couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of lips. Even Rich and Alex hark laughter at the meaning.

Cause Misha Collins just had a truck of bottled water delivered on set that’s still causing stomach hurts from the cast. Recently, Jensen had taken up the habit of ‘mentioning Misha ’on set as a result of that one interview involving some intense heart eyes and delivery of drinks caught on camera. Nothing to deny there, relationships over ten years tend to turn if not bitter-sweet memories, then the opposite tooth-rotting.

This takes the cake. Everyone began doing the same.

Of course, Misha— pleased by the attention and a new game to distract himself from the already distracting Jensen, returned all summons. Misha who was never one to do things halfway and pledged on delivering all sorts of drinks every Jensen pings his name—except apple juice, jesus.

But it’s one of those feats that usually get out of control in Supernatural so by the end of the first week, everyone’s just going ‘Misha.’ He liked that a lot. Also, like the truckload of bottled water delivered on set much to their amusement.

When Vicky saw the number on their credit card receipt, she didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Oh, but he wanted to tell her anyway.

All fun aside, Misha’s particularly grumpy now for another reason. Sleep-deprived and emotionally drained after pouring everything on that last take, he’s now headed to Vegascon with this little group. It was nice Jared arranged his private plane to take them. The pretty convenient thing when a pandemic is out there.

Jensen looks tired too, dark lines under the eyes, lips dry— thus the water bottle Misha’s been carrying around— but how the fuck he managed to radiate with teenage energy even when it’s already late will forever evade Misha who wants to snuggle beside him but instead just looks him straight in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” he mouths, backing to his empty chair.

“Do it.” Jensen teases him and Misha will not appreciate that radiance of beauty pulling him in.

“Can’t, there’s our kid here. Don’t wanna make it awkward.”

Alex shakes his head. “Nope. I think I’ve seen the worst of it.”

“That’s what you think.” Misha chuckles.

“Buckle up, Mishano, signals on.” Richard turns his back from the window facing Jensen with red-light flashing above their heads. “Let’s save the Cockles once we’re in Vegas, kay guys? Innocent guy trying to avoid diabetes so save the Cockles.”

“Save the Cockles.” Alex fumbles inside his jacket to fix his earphones.

Misha and Jensen roll eyes at each other and Misha returns to his spot. Jensen is directly on his line of sight so it’s quite easy to check out on him, maybe snap adorable photos and stack it on his 100 terabyte collection he can post someday when he’s 90.

Taking his phone out after securing his belt, he hears the pilot give instructions as the plane begins to move. Soon, he’s immersing himself with replies on tweets and messages on his number using his extra handphone. Zoning out wasn’t difficult, especially when trying to block out the funny feeling of the engine preparing to take off. They’re all used to it by now.

A few minutes later, they all feel the usual sensation of slowing down bodily before the plane thrusts forward— Misha closes his eyes, hands clasping his chair until they feel the plane level after the accent. When he opens his eyes, he hears everyone including him take a deep breath. There are exchanges of words but he is already glued to his phone answering messages sleepily. He’s so tired he can sleep forever. His eyes begin to droop and he sighs in content, finally able to rest even for just minutes.

Till there’s a gentle nudge on his leg.

He ignores it.

Another kick.

No.

“Mish.” Kick again.

Misha grimaces. Such long reach for bowlegs…

“Misha, I swear—”

“Social distance, Jen?” he opens his eyes, obviously grumpy.

“A truckload of beer from Poland sounds nice, I’d prefer that.” Jensen wags the water bottle with mischievous dimples showing off on the corner of his cheek. Misha frowns and shuts his eyes again. Good god for distractions. Good god for soft manly middlemen with so much energy…

“Mish…”

Ignore him.

“Mish!”

Imagine if Jared’s around…

“Hey, Misha, Poland beer really—”

Misha’s eyes flutter open.

“No, honey, I will not argue with you about Polish ‘Alkohole,’ it’s not even articulated the same.” Misha throws a grumpy look over notorious green-eyed lynx whose chuckling over his misery, “You’re gonna fuck with me again and I’ll have another story in my head I am unable to tell a soul as its rightfully not for children, sorry, Alex.”

Ball on Alex’ court, he blinks from Jensen to Misha quietly then shakes his head.

“I am legally an adult.” He obviously could hear them from his pods. Misha raises a finger.

“Correction, the show says you’re 3. All fanfiction does.”

“I’m married.” Alex injects in amusement.

“Fanfiction says Misha and I are married.” comes from Rich’s corner.

At this Misha sits up, preparing his list of things why Misha-will-never-be-married-to-Richard-Speight-Who-Got-a-Rob impromptu—

“I’m married.” Alex retorts but Richard and Misha are bickering over the type of marriage to hear him.

“You both can say whatever the hell you want, Cockles will top.”

Sometimes Jensen just can’t bridle it. Sending Misha his heart eyes flirtatiously, he stops the argument with a wink. Misha giggles with all tiredness gone, replying to Alex about marriage while Rich says something about Jibcon to Jensen when things begin to go wrong.

Misha did not see it happen. He was busy looking over Jensen, admiring the bravado and confidence about the newly found comfort over their relationship (and their characters) when a loud bang from his right splits the air, followed by crashing sounds of that thing that Misha dreads, one of the worst sounds he never wants to hear in his life.

But that’s only just the beginning.

The first explosion rocked the plane violently forward, then topples without warning to their right. It throws them off with seatbelts tightening—making them grab around the seats, stomach in their throat as they keep their steady hold.

Misha looks outside to the cloud of smoke and crashing debris, his mind tuning only to the present and hears himself as well as Jensen and Richard cursing with jesuschrists. Misha doesn’t know. He was never a steadfast believer but for this one, he’s already calling out god.

The show’s influence is deeper than he thought. He thinks of all the near-death experiences he’s had but it’s nothing compared to this one. For one, he can only look at Jensen and the feeling sinks in the hollowness of his guts.

This is worse, much worse than the drop tower ride or any gyro drop his children always admired him for riding. No. Here the safety belts that kicked in didn't secure anything from the loud crashing sounds that pierced their ears, the shrill sound of the engine roaring like as it beat fragments unto the air leaving maybe nothing of its parts. How many engines are exploding?

Misha doesn’t close his eyes. He tries to deny the possibility that this is where him, Jensen— Alex, god Alex just got married! He’s so much more ahead of his life— and Rich just might finally find their end. An irony of life where the show that’s keeping their lives together now also on the way to its end. A kind of twist in reality that’s been shown by many, if not more famous names ahead of himself but Misha tries not to think about them. He tries not to think about the same profession that killed them. He can’t afford it, oh god his children…

He realized he didn’t even kiss West goodbye the morning he left. How he left the unkempt dish on the sink in a hurry. How he didn’t check Maison’s daily log of mischief she does while he’s away.

Now he may not return.

He closes his eyes as the plane shudders violently again. Please...

He calls Castiel’s name too, the back of his mind telling him they're dying. A more humorous, sadistic side of himself adding Dean is here, and that angel of Thursday isn’t going to let his husband die. They shouldn’t. He and Castiel shouldn’t.

But he’s no Castiel. He’s only Misha.

If anyone asked him how he felt when the plane steadies itself as the pilots pull for control, Misha is not sure anyone would believe him. For the briefest second, he feels this tug at the back of his mind telling him it will be alright and the remarkable part is, Misha believed it. Fucking believe the whisper.

That’s when everything settles down.

Misha quickly looks around at Jense, Rich, and Alex. All of them are pale and he knows he doesn’t look any better. He wants to throw up but the uncertainty of the flight kept him guarded, his grip on the armchair not loosening.

“You guys alright?” Jensen’s voice much deeper than Misha remembers barely managed a nod.

Alex is looking at the floor with concentration where laptops, neck pillows, cups, and stuff are all scattered on the ground. Richard looks as if he’s going to throw up the way he’s holding his stomach. Jensen is staring outside the right window while Misha tells himself to breathe.

“Are you alright?” comes Cliff’s low voice from behind Misha sounding obviously shaken too but still steady. Misha didn’t have time to collect himself. Not that he’s stupid, his body just doesn’t get it, but he quickly pulls his phone and begins texting Vicky and the children.

“What the hell happened?” Richard turns his head over the cockpit when the rumbling dies down.

“Right engine exploded.” Jensen is already unbuckling himself from his chair and casting everyone a look. “You all good? Mish? Cliff?” He doesn’t wait for answers. He shoots off to the cockpit and stops just by the door looking uncertain.

“Hey, uh… do we have a situation?” Nobody spoke while he was gone so it's easy to hear the response of the pilots ahead.

“We most certainly do. Get in your seat. Put on your seat belt. We’re doing emergency procedures.”

Calm. Collected. Professional. That’s all Misha had to hear. It doesn’t seem like he’s alone. Everyone else breathes in relief as they all watch Jensen amble back to his seat, nodding.

“Okay, you certainly have my attention, sir.”

He buckles up and lifts his chin. The look on their faces must’ve triggered Jensen to clap his hands together. “Hey, buckle up! Cliff, sit down. Rich, breathe, kay? It’s gonna be fine. It’s only one engine, guys, c’mon. This thing flies on three! You think Jared had anyone else to listen to about private jet education? We’re gonna be fine.”

Then like heaven-sent, the pilot begins giving them reports of the situation from the paging in a very clear and commanding voice. He tells them the right engine exploded which requires them to make a trip back to the nearest airport in Vancouver. That’s all he gives and a promise of an update as he wished everybody to stay calm and follow the protocol for emergency procedures.

“Hear that?” Jensen clears his throat, his hands clasping. Misha receives the full impact of the meaningful green eyes. The plane steadies itself with hum in the air. A full minute pass and the airplane did not drop.

“Fuck.”

Misha forces himself to relax as he drops his head back on his chair. He can’t feel his body. His hands are still trembling when he smacks it on his cold face. “Fuck!” He can’t seem to say anything other than that.

“Fuck, indeed.” Richard agrees, grabbing his phone, “Good thing I got my pods on, that sound coulda destroyed my ears.” he begins typing on his phone immediately. Alex begins a speed typing contest while Misha receives Vicky's reply after his first message.

‘Kids are mine, right?’

‘Because I cannot make them alone. What’s wrong?’- V

Misha goes on about the engine and the exchange of mail becomes rampant. When about twenty minutes pass with a few throws of questions around, Misha looks up when he hears the blubbing sound of whiskey. Jensen is pouring

“I’m gonna be drinking that scotch when I get back home,” he’s saying as he hands the glasses each to Richard, Alex and finally to Misha who shakes his head, putting the glass on the holder. Jensen takes the armchair beside him to which Misha is glad, especially when Jensen wounds his arm around his shoulder.

“We’re fine, Mish, stop shaking.” Jensen drops the side of his cheeks on Misha’s raven hair.

“I’m not,” Misha says shakily, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s torso and just pulling him into a tight hug. “Fuck!”

Continue reading: AO3

#cocklesdestielfiction #1kcockles #cockles #cocklesisreal #RPF #rpf fanfic #misha collins #jensen and misha #jensen ackles #emotional misha

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cassiopeiassky · 5 years

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When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 50

Good grief. When I started this fic 2 years ago, I had no idea that it would reach 50 parts, have over 154k words over 300 pages, have a companion piece, and still wouldn’t be done. Thank you all so much for reading these words, leaving such wonderful comments, and giving me such amazing encouragement. It means the world to me.

Plot: When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.

Word count: 4198

Warnings:

For the entire work: Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst. This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut. If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Mentions/descriptions of anxiety, mental illness, panic attack, PTSD, injuries. .

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

Bucky was right. Being in a truck made you feel freer than you had since coming here, because you didn’t feel caged or cloistered. It didn’t matter that he drove past the same places two or three times, it didn’t matter that you never left the vehicle. You were free, you were with him, and the sun was shining. He knew this, so he drove all afternoon until he got a call telling him to go to the jet.

“Are you ready to go home, Sweetheart?”

You can’t answer without crying, so you just nod.

“Then let’s go.”

The late afternoon sun begins bathing everything in a red glow as it languidly makes its way to the horizon; the winter days here are just as short as they are at home. The reds and oranges in the clouds reflect in the snow and create the deception of it being warmer than it actually is.

Your leg aches – no scratch that, it’s fucking agony – but you don’t say anything. You tell yourself that it’s because you missed Bucky and don’t want to fog up your first days back together, but deep down you know the truth. The idea of taking anything, pill or shot, scares the living shit out of you.

Bucky grins at you as he pulls the truck into what looks like a makeshift airfield and up to a waiting jet. “What, were you expecting an actual airport, Doll?”

“I…maybe?” you laugh as you look around. It looks like someone just decided to plow a field and then landed a jet in the middle of it. “Is this even legal?”

“We’re nothing if not resourceful.” Bucky parks in the shadow of the jet and winks at you as he gets out of the truck, circling to your side to help you out. Not one to waste an opportunity, he gathers you close and breathes you in as you do the same – these past few weeks were stolen from you and you don’t plan on letting any chances to love go to waste.

God, you can’t wait to love on your boys.

The sound of crunching snow grabs your attention and a new instinctive fear makes you try to pull away to look around. Logic tells you that it’s likely one of your friends, but what if it’s not? What if…

Bucky doesn’t let go, but rather pulls you closer and rubs his hands up and down your back. “It’s just Steve and Barton checking over the gear,” Bucky murmurs in your ear, “it’s okay, Sweetheart. I’m here, you’re safe.”

Yes, right. You’re safe now. He’s here. You’re here. You’re safe. Breathing deeply, you focus on what you can sense; the security of his arms tight around you, the smell of snow in the air, the feeling of his hair tickling your nose, the sound of his even breathing in your ear.

More or less settled, you pull back slightly to look around. Your eyes go to Clint, who smiles widely and waves when he sees you. “Ready to go home?”

“Hell yes,” you mutter, and you’re about to add something else when Steve steps around the front of the jet and into the deepening sunlight, and the words fly out of your mind.

The red light from the setting sun bathes Steve in a coppery glow and has turned his hair almost crimson. You blink and stare – it’s just a trick of the light, you know this – but you could swear you just saw blood matting his hair.

Oh for fuck’s sake, get a grip on yourself…there’s no way…no…way…

You blink again, and the air in your lungs thickens into cement as the world reverses its customary course around the sun and flings you violently back into that hated dining room. The frigid winter air is traded for the suffocating heat radiating from the fireplace as the cruel sound of the Krakkens’ laughter echoes hollowly and endlessly in your ears.

You stare at Steve’s head - first on his shoulders, then on the silver plate in front of you, now on the floor. You can vaguely hear your name spoken by concerned voices from a distance, but how are you supposed to tear your gaze away from the vivid nightmare etched into your memories? It doesn’t matter if you close your eyes – the view is still the same.

Until, mercifully, it’s not.

Maybe it’s the sound of Tony’s voice yelling as he runs across the makeshift airfield to you, “Get out of the sun, Rogers! Move your ass out of the sun!”

Maybe it’s the sorrowful understanding in Bucky’s wide eyes as he steps in front of you, eclipsing the view that triggered a horror and grief so deep you can still taste its bitterness at the back of your throat.

Maybe it’s the sudden movements from people you are only just now aware of – Clint, Nat, Sam, and even Galina – their actions defensive and alert against a threat they can’t see because it’s only in your mind.

Either way, the vision finally fades and gives way to reality; when he steps into the shadow of the jet to approach you, he’s just Steve again, alive and whole and looking worried as hell.

You can’t keep your eyes from darting back to his neck. “You were dead.” The thick voice doesn’t sound like yours, but no one else had his head fall to the ground at their feet, so it must have been you that spoke. Reality solidifies itself further when his head stays firmly attached to the rest of him, and suddenly you’re very aware of all the eyes on you. Intensely uncomfortable with the scrutiny, the heat rushes to your face. “Oh my God. Um. I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…”

Steve watches with a guilty expression as Tony finally reaches you and puts a comforting arm around your shoulders; the twitchiness you felt during breakfast returns immediately. “Kiddo, you’re the last one that should be apologizing. Besides, it isn’t like all of us haven’t had the same thing happen at some point.”

A strained smile graces your features as you try to subtly shrug out from under his arm while simultaneously and not entirely successfully holding back your sudden tears. Words won’t come out because your throat insists that any sound will be accompanied by a sob, so you merely nod.

“Let’s get you on the jet,” Bucky murmurs, reaching to pick you up.

Shaking your head, you take an awkward step back and try to form words that won’t sound like you’re choking or crying. “No. I can walk,” you finally manage. The idea of being carried and it being so obvious to everyone how helpless you are absolutely mortifies you. You know you’re being ridiculous – you’re surrounded by the last people on earth that would judge you – but you can’t help it. So you turn, pulling your arm from Bucky’s light touch when he attempts to steady you. He does a good job of hiding the hurt in his eyes, but you still see it. It makes you hate yourself for being the one to put it there, for being so goddamn irrational.

It’s only a few paces to the metal steps to the plane, and the handrails on either side of you make for relatively steady if not slow progess. Bucky walks behind you, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch you should you stumble. It takes a lot out of you physically by the time you finally reach the top, and even more out of you mentally when you realize how much this mirrors your trip here. You could barely climb the steps then but did it out of some deep-seated stubbornness and spite that the poison in your veins hadn’t managed to subdue. And now here you are, except this time the poison is in your mind. The irony isn’t lost on you, not one bit.

“Oh thank God,” you mumble as you step through the threshold. Yes, it’s a jet, but the inside looks nothing like the one you’d been forced to take here. That’s something, at least. It mirrors Tony’s tastes impeccably – stylish and modern in appearance, but also comfortable and user friendly despite the extravagant luxury. And good grief, it even smells expensive.

It only takes a second or two for you to assess your surroundings and to awkwardly begin limping your way to the very back of the jet. It looks like there are lots of little coves and nooks set up within the cabin, and you’re extraordinarily grateful for that. Right now, you crave solitude and privacy.

The small area you choose would be enough to hold two, maybe three people comfortably. The partitions separating the seating areas aren’t thick and there are no doors, so there’s nothing to stop sound from carrying, but at least you feel protected from everyone’s concerned gazes. There’s what would pass as a chair and a half – not quite as big as a loveseat but more than big enough to accommodate your form if you curl up – and a smaller but equally plush chair placed opposite and slightly to the left. Choosing the bigger of the two, you remove your coat and use it as a makeshift blanket as you arrange yourself to lie curled up on your side with your injured thigh facing up. You face the back of the chair, hoping that anyone that happens to walk by will take the hint and leave you the fuck alone.

Your plan works, at least for now. Unfortunately, you can’t figure out if this makes you happy or sad. What the hell do you feel? You feel guilt at your last moments with Bucky – who you happen to know is just on the other side of the partition from you, listening carefully for any indication that you need or want him – but what do you say to him? Gee, Buck, I’m sorry I’m such a fucking train wreck right now. I’d love to talk about my feelings but I have no fucking idea how to explain them, hell, I can’t even put words to them in my own brain.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

What do you want? Figure that out first. You want Bucky. Full stop. It’s why you said what you said when you first found out that he was himself and not the Soldier, and your words of reassurance last night. That hasn’t changed, not one bit. So why isn’t he here right now? Because you more or less pushed him away. Still, he’s just inches away, patiently waiting for you. So what’s the problem?

Shame. Twitchiness. Pain. Loneliness. Anxiety. An overwhelming sense of unworthiness at what he had to do for you, sacrifice for you, in order to save you. Anger. Loathing for those monsters that hurt Bucky and took you away from your children. Hopelessness. A paralyzing fear that you’ll never be yourself again, even though you’re sure you were pretty close to normal less than an hour ago when you were driving around with Bucky.

And then there’s the suffocating yet disconnected understanding of just how utterly broken you are.

The tears are hot on your cheeks but you just wipe them away with your sleeve and try to keep quiet. You can hear and feel Bucky shifting restlessly because of course he can hear you with that damned supersoldier hearing, but he respects your unspoken request for space.

But it isn’t space that you crave, not really. What you really want is to be okay.

Footsteps head your way until you hear a hushed conversation. If you tried you could probably make out what they’re saying, but you can’t bring yourself to care. At least, not until a dark head pokes around the edge of the partition.

“Hey, Kiddo.” Tony waits patiently until you dejectedly turn your head look at him. “I’ll leave you alone in a minute, but I wanted to let you know that we’re taking off soon.”

“Okay. Thank you.” No point in being rude.

Tony sighs quietly – surprisingly, there’s no trace of exasperation, just a sort of sad acceptance. “You’re gonna have to sit up and buckle yourself in for the takeoff, Kiddo.”

Oh. Right.

As you slowly pull yourself up, Tony removes your coat and tosses it on the seat across from you. It occurs to you to be indignant, but then he makes a big show out of unfolding a thick, dark blue blanket.

“This will keep you warmer than that jacket. The seatbelts are tucked into the seats – you just have to dig a little for them.” He’s uncharacteristically subdued, and your shoulders slump a little with the weight of knowing that it’s probably your fault he’s acting like this.

He watches to make sure you get buckled in properly but doesn’t reach to do it for you. You appreciate that. Then the ache in your heart eases slightly when he bends to drop an almost fatherly kiss to the top of your head before resting his steady hand on your shoulder. “Do you want something for the pain?”

“No! No…no thank you.” If you answer too quickly, he doesn’t let on that he notices - but of course he probably does. Tony is more observant and has way more empathy than people give him credit for.

He nods. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You don’t speak until he’s almost blocked from view by the partition, and then the words are out of your mouth before you realize you were even thinking them. “How did you know what I was seeing?”

Tony takes a step back, swallowing hard before his watery eyes meet your own, and you realize that maybe it isn’t your current behavior that has him acting so…not Tony Stark. “The look on your face - I’ve seen that look before. I was, uh, watching through their security cameras when those bastards pulled that bullshit stunt on you.” He swallows hard again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it. So when I looked around to find out what triggered you, I put the pieces together when I saw how red Steve looked in the light.”

Shame comes crashing down on you like a piano in an old Looney Toons cartoon. You’d been so wrapped up in your own battling emotions that you hadn’t taken the time to see how you and Bucky aren’t the only ones permanently scarred from your ordeal; some of the others are dealing with the things they had to do to get you back. You’d noticed the heavy, haunted guilt in Bucky’s eyes when he thinks you aren’t looking, but that same look was in Steve’s eyes after you had your episode outside the jet. And now Tony – now that you’re looking for it, it’s impossible to miss. You mentally run through the laundry list of what Tony has possibly felt over these past few weeks; helpless, frustrated, powerless, inadequate. A sense of failure because he considered himself responsible for your safety. “Well, um, thank you.” What else can you say? You already know from your own current experience that words don’t really help.

Tony shakes his head with a fair amount of self-disgust. “Don’t thank me, Kiddo. It’s my fault you were there in the first place.” He leaves before you have a chance to respond, to tell him that it isn’t his fault and that you don’t blame him for anything.

You cover your face with your hands as you shake your head. One would think that this moment should feel like a victory – you and your friends made it out alive and you’re going home – but it just doesn’t. It almost feels hollow. Or maybe it’s just you that’s hollow.

***

Footsteps and a quiet conversation pulls you out of yourself. Steve is saying something about eating and cruising altitude or something like that, but there isn’t an ounce of you that cares. You’ve been numbly staring at a point on the wall in front of you for – how long, maybe 20 minutes? – and you just now realize you’ve been staring at a tv screen. It’s been…fuck, it’s been weeks since you’ve watched tv. They didn’t see fit to give you one in that prison disguised as a fucking ugly bedroom; they wouldn’t even give you a radio because they preferred for you to spend your days in silence. The sudden desire to watch a movie makes you feel so normal for a second that you start to cry.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice, soft and hesitant, makes you wipe your tears and look to him. He’s standing on your side of the partition but seems reluctant to come closer.

It hurts, fuck it hurts to see how you’re impacting him, and your face crumples. “Bucky, I…I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

He knows you, knows you inside and out, and he takes your words for the implicit invitation they are. Bucky puts down whatever he was holding and squeezes himself into the chair with you. “Hey, hey, no Sweetheart, no,” he murmurs as he holds you close and strokes your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

It feels like a superhuman effort, but you manage to reign in your tears after just a few moments; you’re not quite ready to fully let go. “But I –“

“Sweetheart, listen to me. You just went through a major trauma.” He cradles your face in his hands, grazing his thumbs over your tearstained cheeks, and like always the contrasting touches of warm and cool grounds you. “What you’re feeling right now – all those overwhelming and conflicting emotions and thoughts, the mood swings, wanting to push people away but then craving contact, the incredible want to lash out at anyone and anything, even what you saw outside – those are all perfectly normal reactions.”

Unsteady breath in, shaky breath out. “I know.” Of course you know, you were – are, dammit, not were, are – a psychology student, for fuck’s sake. You recognize what’s going on but that makes it even worse because it feels like you should be able to stop it.

“I know you know, Sweetheart.” And of course he does; he’d occasionally helped you study back at the safehouse. Besides, Tony was right – like everyone else on the jet, he’s been through it. Bucky gives you a sad smile as he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I hate to break it to you, but that isn’t going to be much help right now.”

A tearful laugh bubbles out of you. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”

“Hey,” Bucky waits to speak again until your eyes meet his, “It’s gonna be okay – you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get to New York, we’re gonna get your leg fixed, and then we’re gonna get you some help to deal with this. You’re not going through this alone, okay? I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He stares at you intently before speaking again, “And no matter what, you need to know that there’s nothing you can do or say that will scare me away. You might have some rough days ahead – the first few therapy sessions are a real bitch, let me tell you – but no matter what happens, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You can’t help but look away in shame when you hoarsely whisper, “But I’m so broken.”

“Sweetheart,” he admonishes softly, “we’ve both been at least a little broken since the day we met. Our pieces have always fit together just fine.”

You nod at the truth of his words as you sniffle, and then reluctantly pull out of his grasp to blow your nose. “How are you so steady right now?”

Bucky practically snorts as he shakes his head. “I’m not, not really. I’m constantly fighting every instinct I have to protect you to the point of smothering you, and I start to have a panic attack if I can’t see, feel, or hear you for more than a minute or two. I, uh, I have to do breathing exercises when one of us goes to the bathroom. Showering yesterday just about killed me.”

“Seriously?”

He nods sheepishly. “The only differences between us are that I had years of forced training on controlling my emotions and actions, and that I have already gone through intensive therapy for severe PTSD. I’ve already started working my program again and that’s what’s holding me over until I can get to my therapist.”

You allow his words to sink in as you take a deep breath. He’s been through this – he’s been through far worse and survived traumas that lasted much, much longer – and he came out the other side as the man you fell completely, totally in love with. The flare of hope that makes its way into your heart adds itself to your already impossibly confusing maelstrom of emotions.

“Sweetheart – I know it’s hard, I do, but where you’re at is where you’re at. I’ll always find you, and I’ll meet you there.” He waits for your nod, and continues, “It doesn’t scare me. You don’t scare me. I know it might not feel like it, but the worst is over. You’re strong, Sweetheart, so incredibly strong. You’re gonna find your way out of this.”

You nod again, more sure this time. “I trust you, Bucky.”

His lips turn up into the graceful, easy smile you’d missed so much. He doesn’t bother hiding the thread of pride when he rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, “I know you do.”

When Bucky presses his lips to yours, the world shifts a little and things suddenly don’t seem quite so bleak. It somehow feels like everything is going to be okay, even if it takes some time to get there. You aren’t naive enough to believe that things will stay this way; now that some of the anguish has cleared it’s easier for you to apply your learning to your own situation and recognize that this shift, although welcome, is likely temporary. The pendulum will swing the other way again, but if you can start a program with a competent therapist the swings will become less drastic. Eventually you’ll reach a balance. You can come back from this. Eventually.

Optimism, no matter how fragile, for the win.

“There she is.” A smile somehow finds its way to your face as he continues, “I told you I’d find you.”

“You’re such a putz,” you huff, knowing he hears the affection in your voice, and as his gentle laughter joins yours he reaches across to the other seat.

“Steve brought us something to eat.” Bucky presses one of the two dishes covered with plastic wrap into your hands. “We only have a microwave so it’s just Easy Mac and –“

“Chicken nuggets!” You all but tear the wrap off. Not only has your conversation with Bucky revived your appetite, but you sorely missed this kind of food. Too much of what you‘d been served during your imprisonment either wasn’t to your liking or was almost nauseatingly repetitive. As such, soggy microwaved chicken nuggets are a luxury, one you promise yourself to never again take for granted.

“I’m glad I don’t have to persuade you to eat.” He looks genuinely relieved as he shifts his ginormous frame in the chair to start digging into his own food. It’s a tight fit, but neither of you are willing to move.

“Bucky,” you pick up a nugget and take a slow bite, not minding the slight rubbery texture in the least. “I haven’t had a chicken nugget in weeks. It was mostly stewed meat with a fifty percent chance of being ruined with mushrooms, some form of potato, and sour cream. I probably would have gone hungry if it wasn’t for Mikhail bringing me pastries almost every night.”

Mikhail.

Back swings the pendulum.

“Um, speaking of Mikhail…” Bucky pauses as he takes your hand in his, “I have something for you, a letter he wrote when he started working with us. I promised to give to you if he didn’t make it.” The pain is evident on his face, and you can’t help but wonder if Mikhail somehow managed to burrow into Bucky’s heart just like he did yours. “It’s in my bag with the rest of our cargo so I can’t get it right now, but as soon as we land I can pull it out.”

Your head is shaking and your eyes fill with tears before he finishes speaking. “I can’t…I’m not…I…”

“When you’re ready,” he murmurs. “I’ll hold onto it until you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” Desperate for a distraction to keep you from losing the progress you’ve made in the department of not being a complete wreck, your eyes dart around until they land on the tv. “Can we watch a movie or something?”

“Absolutely. FRIDAY, please show any Disney animated movie except Snow White and Pinocchio.”

Honestly, this man is too good to be true.

“Yes, Sargent Barnes.” The tv lights up and just a few moments later the opening for the Emperor’s New Groove starts playing. “I hope you don’t mind – I took the liberty of downloading your preferences from SUNDAY.”

“That’s perfect FRIDAY, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

“I never thought I’d get used to and actually miss an AI presence, but here we are,” you mutter.

Bucky puts his arm around your shoulders as he snickers. “I’m right there with you, Sweetheart.”

He waits until you finish eating before he cocoons you both into the blanket, content to watch your favorite movies until the jet lands safely in New York.

Tagging:

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #when everythings made to be broken (i just want you to know who i am)#WEMtbB #part 50 #my work

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whateverisbeautiful · 6 years

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Richonne in Retrospect

#2: The “Don’t You Ever Touch Me Again” (3x07)

��Y’all. This line from Michonne is probably one of the best lines in retrospect. Like the irony is too real. 😂

So after that first exchange in this episode, the next Richonne moment is with Rick and Hershel and Daryl approaching Michonne and again the first thing out of Rick’s mouth is “We can tend to that wound for you.” So hospitable. 👌🏽

He even goes on to say “Give you a little food and water and then send you on your way.” Homeboy stay trying to take care of her, y’all. Real to the one.

And for him to offer her their resources, like why would he feel obligated to do that? Oh yeah, cuz soul mates lol.

He tells her first she’s going to have to tell them how she found them and why she was carrying that formula. And like it would be so easy for Rick to just threaten or intimidate her into telling him this information, she is on their turf surrounded by his people after all. But instead he offers to help her if she helps him. And then she tells them about Glenn and Maggie and how they were taken by the same guy who shot her.

Now, if she told me they were taken by the same person who shot her then I would most likely assume she’s not on the side of the guy who took them. And while I’m sure Rick knows Michonne isn’t on the same team as the kidnapper, he still seems to feel he has to get a bit more aggressive with her all of a sudden.

But I do get that Rick is particularly sensitive about protecting his people and not losing them, especially after Lori, so we see him start to get challenging with Michonne for the first time.

Like I think he starts projecting the fear of losing anymore of his people onto her which is why he gets in her face and tells her those are his people and he wants her to tell them where they are now.

And to really hammer home the urgency he presses her gun wound. Which I’m like...

Like Rick, you were constantly offering to tend to that wound and now you’re going to make it worse? 🤔 And I get that Michonne hasn’t been the most eager to answer your questions but hurting her like that doesn’t quite seem necessary. This was magnets gone wrong lol. But Michonne’s presence does seem to bring out the extra-ness in Rick a lot, hence his reaction.

And then we get that line that is so gold and ironic now. Michonne stands up and tells Rick in a way that is clear she is playing zero games, “Don’t you ever touch me again.” Lol okay we’ll see about that, Sis.

I love this line for how much it will not apply later. 😂 Sometimes I wonder tho if Rick was so scared straight here and that’s why their physical contact was so low up until season 6.

Cuz it’s not like Rick doesn’t do hugs or contact with people in general, yet with her it was always just these light little arm taps and he was always mindful to keep his distance. Like I guess Rick thought look she was dead serious when she told me not to touch her so I’m going to obey that request for the next few seasons.

(Side note: I’ll talk about this line and this moment more when I talk about season 8 cuz, as y’all know, there’s a moment between R&M that I think made all of us flashback to this moment.)

Then, Homegirl is a stone cold boss when Daryl tries to threaten her and she just says “Find them yourself”. Unbothered. And it’s funny cuz then we cut to Rick staring at her and he too is thinking “Homegirl is a stone cold boss.” Direct quote, y’all.

Like I don’t know that Rick has been around a woman this fearless before and, from the way he looks at her, clearly he’s intrigued.

It’s interesting that after his little aggressive episode of pushing her wound he returns to being secretly-smitten-Rick and the first thing he does isn’t continue to challenge her but rather tells Daryl to put his crossbow down.

And the way he says it to Daryl you can tell he really prefers not to have to be hostile with her. He moves to stand in front of Michonne again and get between her and Daryl. It’s like even that is an act of protection for her. (Also a low key act of greed since he wants her attention back on him lol)

He decides to change his approach to a more understanding one when he says “You came here for a reason?” He gives her a chance to explain why she might be here rather than assume it’s for malicious intent.

And then you see Michonne mull over if she should finally let up and let them in on the details of Woodbury and she eventually decides she can tell them cuz, similar to Rick, she too can’t help but trust him somewhat.

When she mentions the town, Rick steps closer to her cuz magnets. Just thought I’d point that out lol. Then Rick asks if she knows a way in and she says the “Place is surrounded by walkers but we could slip our way through.” Michonne stays ready and confident, y’all. And for her to say “we”, it just feels like they already know they’re going to be working together. Like this is technically their first Richonne plan. 🙌🏾

And then Rick curiously asks her how she knew how to get to the prison and Michonne tells him “They mentioned a prison and said it was a straight shot and me being a smart boss of a woman, I just followed the directions, duh”. Like I love how she’s so matter-of-fact about how it really wasn’t that difficult for her. 😋

And it’s so interesting the way Rick has these lingering stares at her. It’s like part of him is listening and part of him is just captivated and thinking “Who is this queen?” lol. And then, because her wound seems to be one of his top concerns, he again brings up how Hershel will take care of that for her. Seriously, R&M cared about each other before they even realized they cared about each other.

We also get this moment later of Hershel tending to Michonne as Carl just stands there watching. It’s cute that Carl’s so little but attempting to seem a bit menacing. Low key if I was Michonne in that moment I would have been like alright the apocalypse is already creepy enough I don’t know if I need to now have little kids just staring at me in prisons added to my life lol.

But fr this moment feels sweet and significant in retrospect cuz it shows how, similar to Rick, Carl seemed to also be so drawn to and curious about Michonne right from the start.

It almost feels like the three of them subconsciously sense that one day they’re going to change each other’s entire lives.

Like in this scene, Carl’s not just staring at the woman who will become his closest friend, he’s staring at the woman who will become his mom. 😊

(Side note: There’s a nice moment in this episode where Daryl tells Carl not to worry about his old man cuz he’ll keep an eye out for him and I’m just like where in the world was this Daryl in season 8!? 🤦🏽‍♀️ But we’ll talk about that eventually.👌🏽)

And then later in this episode, Michonne leads the way as they head to Woodbury and when they get trapped in that cabin she straight up kills a guy for them. It’s ruthless but it had to be done lol. And it’s funny to see Rick yet again taking note of this stone cold boss when she takes the guy out. That’s right, Rick, you’ve officially met your match. 💯👸🏾

Also y’all, I looked up “mesmerized” in the dictionary and all it had was this here gif of Rick looking at Michonne. 😋

#richonne #the walking dead #twd #richonne fandom #richonne family #rick grimes #michonne #s3 #not my gifs

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