#‘i’m not going anywhere’ ‘none of us are’ like what if i died for real

[ilovefredjones]

dal ‘that’s my crew!’ r’el!!!!!!

[ashtxrie]

oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)

PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff WORD COUNT. 2.2k WARNINGS. none! NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags

you and sunoo are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture

like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?

and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]

and at first you were super happy because new friends!

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“[name], why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

ayo... excuse me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang

“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”

needless to say your friends go INSANE

like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j

so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … sunoo!”

your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

trust

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc sunoo is already freaking out

bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

...

is he being fr rn

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed

“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

sunoo scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo

you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way.  like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

RULES???

this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

oh

he kinda smart for that

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ...  y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

sunoo blinks

pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he loves u <3

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but sunoo is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo

but sunoo is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

that's my man

i mean what???

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH

sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead

YO........................ insane.

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together

like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different

sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless

c’mon... get it together

but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

INTERPOL INTERPOL.....

did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?

UMMMMM

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell something is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”

sunoo's face falls

and that was it

you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“sunoo…”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

sunoo's face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic.  “of course not.  it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared

terrified, actually

but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real? chat is this fr rn??

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly.  “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise

“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder.  “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you !!

[chenziee]

OPKisstober: Marines

Day 10 for OPKisstober: Coby/Helmeppo

As Helmeppo sat in the infirmary inside of what remained of the Marine Headquarters, thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning in his head.

The world as they knew it was over. Portgas and the rest of the Whitebeard pirates—those still alive at least—may have managed to escape in the end, but that didn’t change the result. This era was over; Whitebeard clearly didn’t have long to live, Blackbeard was set loose on the world, Marineford was in ruins, and countless lives were lost… for what?

Helmeppo didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand what the top brass had expected or wanted to achieve.

Maybe, he was too stupid, but it simply didn’t feel like the risk—and real loss—was worth whatever the hell they might have possibly gained.

Pirates wouldn’t stop pirating just because some big shots died. Honestly, if he were a pirate, he would probably want to go out to the sea in hopes of snatching that Emperor seat, but what did he know? He barely had any rank here. He barely got here.

“Helmeppo?” someone asked weakly, ripping Helmeppo out of his thoughts.

“Coby?!” he cried, jumping out of his chair to rush to his… friend’s side. “You’re awake! Thank god, I was so worried! How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere? The doc said you should be fine after getting some sleep but—”

Helmeppo couldn’t stop talking. He knew he should let Coby rest, but he was just so relieved. As he fired one question after the other, not waiting for an answer to any one of them, he suddenly felt tears welling in his eyes. Ah, how pathetic.

His father would berate him for ‘being a little girl’ for crying… but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t keep the tears from pouring down his face.

“Helmeppo…” Coby said, a small, weak chuckle passing through his lips. “Hey, I’m okay. I don’t think I got hurt at all.”

Helmeppo gulped heavily, studying Coby’s face for any sign of lying but finding none. As if Coby knew how to lie in the first place. Bastard; making Helmeppo feel all these things while not even being injured!

Helmeppo took a deep breath, holding it for a second, before letting it go. He was already being vulnerable; what was the point keeping it all inside anymore? Inhaling deeply one more time, Helmeppo braced himself before quickly leaning forward, pressing his lips against Coby’s in a… very clumsy, very uncomfortable, very awkward kiss. He cursed internally; curse his lack of experience! If this was going to be his only chance to kiss Coby—

But then, Helmeppo’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he realised that Coby was kissing him back. And a new wave of relief and warmth and sobs washed over him.

Ah, this was going to take some getting used to. Hopefully, there was going to be time to do so now.

[ Masterpost | Series on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

[nehswritesstuffs]

ghosts speak in whispers and lies; can’t know what’s real ‘til you’re the one who’s died - Part Two

All I can say about this thing right now is holy shit.

The Hearts welcome the only other trusted crew into their midst, while Law is sucked further into the lie. [6687 words]

Luckily, the Thousand Sunny was not too terribly far from where the Polar Tang had landed and was able to make the trip over in a relatively short amount of time, arriving just before dinner. It was all the Straw Hats could do to stop Luffy from breaking down the door to the submarine, the teen absolutely panicked about the state their friend was now in. They had elected to not move him from the table in the mess hall, instead putting a blanket over him and his bunched-up hooded sweatshirt under his head as a pillow for the time being.

“Hmm… I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything like this,” Chopper frowned. It filled the Heart Pirates with dread—it wasn’t good when the reindeer looked puzzled, let alone admitted it. He had been briefed on everything that had happened and still it seemed like he had no answers. “I’ll have to cross-reference his collection and my own when it comes to parasites. Jean Bart?”

“Yes, Doctor Chopper?”

“How did the device work that took these things off the slaves in Mary Geoise?”

“It went between the person and the creature and seemed to forcibly rip it off—many people were injured when going through the process because of how it holds on the face.” He grew quiet, unnerved by the situation. “What do you suggest for now?”

“Well, we need to get him out of the mess hall for one,” Chopper decided. “I’m glad you didn’t move him until I made my preliminary assessment. He needs to get into the medbay with at least a sodium lactate drip. When was the last time he ate?”

“Last we’re aware: lunch yesterday,” Shachi noted. The reindeer’s eyes bugged and he shrugged guiltily. “Getting him to eat is sometimes an issue. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t.” Chopper gestured to Luffy, who was crying in worry for his friend while still double-fisting slabs of meat that he was hoovering up like a menace. Oh, yeah, that was definitely a completely different sort of problem. “Do you have any TPN prepped?” Crickets. “You know: total parenteral nutrition? To make sure he’s getting regular nutrients while his esophagus is blocked?”

“You make it sound like there’s more doctors on the ship than just the captain,” Clione stated. Chopper groaned and transformed into Heavy Point, gingerly picking up Law. “We can help, but none of us are… you know…” Chopper tried to not roll his eyes—expecting too much medically out of Law’s crew was tantamount to expecting medical assistance out of the Straw Hats, which was anywhere from adequate to… lacking, to say the least.

“I’m going to get him set up—Robin, could you please get some TPN bags from the fridge in the Sunny? Everyone else, I’m going to need some space in order to take care of him properly. He’s allowed two visitors at a time, okay?”

“Torao…get better soon!” Luffy demanded as Zoro carried him out of the mess hall, still attempting to eat. Bepo and Jean Bart led Chopper to the medbay, where the younger doctor placed his colleague on the bed.

“Where does he keep his medical volumes?” Chopper asked.

“They’re in his room—I can bring you there once we’re sure he’s stable,” Bepo said. Jean Bart looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, but I think the captain will understand.”

“I’m sure he will,” Jean Bart nodded. The pair helped Chopper get acclimated to their medbay and watched as he hooked up Law to a couple monitors and put the IV in his forearm, the sodium lactate drip going almost as soon as Robin arrived.

“Here you are, Chopper,” she said, using her Devil Fruit ability to hold three bags in three separate hands. “I got more than one since I don’t think this is going to be solved within a day.”

“Thanks; you can put the others in the fridge there,” Chopper said, taking one of the bags and gesturing towards the wall. Robin put the spare bags in the refrigerator and watched in silence as Chopper connected the bag to the IV line. Jean Bart noticed her stare and things clicked into place.

“I’m going to make sure that everyone is keeping a cool head,” he decided out loud. “Both our crews are fond of the captain for good reason. Have Bepo fetch me if I’m needed.”

“Thanks!” Chopper seemed genuinely thankful, which put the man at-ease. Once he had left, Robin moved into the space he had occupied. She stared at Law contemplatively and it caught the attention of the Mink.

“Are you okay, Miss Robin?” Bepo wondered. She nodded.

“He looks… wrong.”

“Don’t worry—the captain’s strong like you wouldn’t believe,” the bear assured. He placed his paw on her shoulder in solace, though the one who reacted was Chopper.

“What’s going on?” he wondered. “Is something wrong?”

“Torao and I… worked closely together while we were headed to Zou and Wano… while you were going to rescue Sanji,” Robin stated. Chopper didn’t know much about Humans and their emotions, but he was getting better at reading between the lines: something romantic happened at the very least, though to what degree he was unsure. Robin was working through something, though what he didn’t want to know unless she specifically opened up about it, and considering she used the voice she did when she didn’t want to reveal everything at once… well…

“Oh, I understand,” Chopper nodded. He hummed quietly and made a few notes on his chart. “Bepo? Can you show me Torao’s library is kept? I should get to work on figuring out what this is; Robin’s watched over patients for me before.”

The bear quickly obliged, leading Chopper out of the medbay and down the hall. Robin sat quietly with the steady beeping of the monitors; if she concentrated, she could almost hear Law’s breathing. She gently picked up his hand in hers and began to lightly trace the blackwork tattoos, glad that Chopper put the IV in his inner forearm to avoid the ink.

“I know you likely can’t hear me,” she said, “but I want to at least say that Chopper is doing everything in his power to make sure this weird creature doesn’t melt your brain or eat your innards.” He continued to lay there, immobile and unresponsive. The only comforts she had was that his hand was still warm and the monitors doing their job. “I still don’t regret going with Luffy, you know. Maybe next time you’ll think before you get into trouble. You of all people know how terrible it is to be left behind.”

Law still did not answer.

“If you don’t wake up soon, Luffy’s going to try to do something about it.”

Again, nothing; if anything was to work if he was somehow faking, it would be invoking Luffy. His silence confirmed leagues of information for Robin, though the most troubling fact was something to do with her and nothing else. She hated to see him like this and she had to wonder how deep it truly went. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to find out the hard way.

She did not know if she could be left behind again.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Alcohol flowed freely on the Going Luffy-senpai as the newly formed Straw Hat Fleet partied to celebrate having escaped Dressrosa and the certain death that would have welcomed them had they stayed a moment longer. It was a wonderful party, one that easily presented many opportunities to slip away from the main proceedings.

Below deck, Law walked out of the bathroom and looked up and down the corridor to see if there was anyone there—he was alone. That worked in his favor, honestly, as it allowed him to find a bit of peace and quiet to recharge himself with minimal pressure. After having been with the Straw Hats for what felt like ages, plus the varied others who came with them, he needed some time alone before he screamed.

Opening a door, he found that he had only stumbled upon Nico Robin as she studied the contents of the map room. He raised an eyebrow—it looked like she was stealing the only semi-navigable maps the ship possessed.

“I thought it was your crewmate who’s a cat burglar,” he quipped. She simply smiled.

“Who do you think these are going to once we arrive at Zou?” she replied. Fuck—she had him there. Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the booze or something else, but Nico Robin… she wasn’t bad to have around. “Are you doing alright, Torao? You look a bit pale.”

“Haven’t had that much alcohol in a while,” he admitted. “I’m not normally a lightweight, but that idiot with a hard-on for your captain has some strong stuff in his stores.”

“Yes, I do give him that.” She watched as he closed the door behind him, making it only the two of them in the small room. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll beat you up?”

“No,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. His face felt hot from both booze and blush; she was either good at masking being drunk as well, or her tolerance was far beyond his. “I wanted to… uh…” He swallowed hard. “Nico-ya, can I kiss you?”

“An interesting question,” she noted. “Might I ask why?”

“I remember seeing your bounty poster as a child, not long after it came out,” he said. Fuck, words would not stop spilling out of his mouth, Nika help him, and it was complicating things even more. “The sisters at the school used it to warn us about being naughty, that we’d get a bounty just like you. It terrified my classmates into behaving all the way to the end.”

“…and what did the young Torao believe?” she asked, moving closer to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, then cradled his face, making him look directly at her. He began to tremble and his voice grew raspy.

“I thought that was the coolest shit ever.”

In half a moment, Robin popped up on her toes and leaned in to kiss Law. She materialized an arm out of his back so she could hold his head in place as she ran three hands’ worth of fingers in his hair. Two additional false arms pulled him in closer, all while he struggled to figure out how to both kiss back and find an appropriate place for his hands. Their hesitation melted away as they kissed, the pair breathlessly breaking apart only when they realized that they were getting dizzy.

“Here I was afraid you were with Cyborg-ya,” he chuckled incredulously. She shook her head.

“Franky? He’s just a friend. A very odd friend.”

“Then I guess he won’t mind if I kiss you again?”

“He doesn’t even need to know.”

Law took that as his cue and kissed her again, becoming intoxicated from more than just their host’s choice in alcohol. He walked Robin back into the wall next to the door, pausing just long enough for her to protest, only to find that she instead pulled him even closer. She slid one of her legs between his and felt his growing erection throb against her, chuckling at her find. “Do you have the necessary equipment to take care of this?”

His brain stalled; the what…? Oh…

“I wasn’t even certain that I’d get a kiss. Besides, I…!”

“MISS ROBIN?!” The pair froze at the sound of Bartolomeo’s booming voice in the corridor. “MISS ROBIN?! WE’RE ABOUT’TA TELL STORIES DETAILING YOUR VICTORY AT ENIES LOBBY! DIDJA WANNA COME?!”

Robin pressed a finger to Law’s lips and suddenly he could hear her voice out in the corridor, leading Bartolomeo away from the map room. Once it sounded like they were out of danger, the pair leaned into one another and giggled quietly. He hesitated before burying his face in her neck, not entirely believing his luck.

“Do you know a place where we’re more likely to… be alone…?”

“Why Torao, I thought you’d never ask.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was lunchtime when Law finally got to sit down and relax, even if it was only for a short time. Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo had joined him in their favorite corner of the cafeteria, the four lazily eating their lunch over a shared break.

“Sooo… the big day’s coming up soon, isn’t it?” Penguin asked. Law shrugged.

“It’s just dinner.”

“Yeah, but you’re having Robin meet your family—that’s kind of a big deal,” Penguin replied. “It’s actually a pretty huge step if you ask me.”

“Why are you afraid of what my family is going to think of my girlfriend?” Law questioned. “I’d say it doesn’t concern you.”

“Except it does concern us,” Shachi said, “because ever since you and Robin started seeing one another, it’s like you’ve been a completely different person. In a good way.”

“Yeah, you’re living proof that getting kinky pussy on the regular changes a man,” Penguin added. “You’re not nearly as cranky as before.”

“You know, I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk about my sex life within potential earshot of people I’ve known since childhood,” Law grumbled. His brain went overtime into thinking about how many of the other hospital staff members there had known him as his parents’ son long before he even gained awareness of his surroundings. “You’re just jealous I even have one.”

“Pffft, nah,” Penguin scoffed, shrugging off the accusation.

“We’re proud that you have yourself a girlfriend, what do you mean?” Shachi added.

“They’re both extremely jealous and wonder what you did to score Robin,” Bepo deadpanned through his food. Ah! Fucking traitor! “Very specifically they wonder whose dick you had to suck.”

“You two are the worst,” Law groaned. Both Penguin and Shachi turned beet red at that, piss completely taken out.

“Hey, come on,” Shachi whined. “It’s just… like… you’re fucking perfect and it’s rough on us normies’ self-esteem some days.”

“Yeah,” Penguin added. “You’re smart, handsome, tall, got that deep voice and talented hands—no wonder Robin’s agreeing to meet your family.”

“…and how would you know I’ve got the kind of ‘talented hands’ she’d enjoy?”

“Dude, it’s completely and totally normal to notice the fact that you’ve got long fingers when you start twirling a pen or are pointing to incisions on patients,” Penguin defended. “Besides, you’re only a surgeon because you’re good with your hands.”

“It’s more than that, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” Law replied sarcastically. “I’m just lucky that Robin doesn’t hate Sora.”

“Yeah! Not even that she doesn’t hate it! She doesn’t think still being a fan at our age is weird!” Penguin stabbed the air with a fry for emphasis. “Smoking hot, tolerant of hobbies, and smarter than you too! We couldn’t get that even in a million years!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Law scolded. “You’re making it sound like we’re some sort of power couple.”

“Peng, he’s gonna have the smartest, most gorgeous children in all the Cardinal Blues, and he doesn’t even realize it,” Shachi whined. “Fuck, I wonder what it’s like to be that oblivious.”

“I’m not oblivious…”

“Dude, you’re fucking oblivious,” Penguin replied, backing up Shachi. “Tell ‘im, Bep.”

“You’re all oblivious,” Bepo said, hitting all three friends’ egos with laser-precision. “Law’s so stupidly in love that he can’t think straight, but he’s not the only one. Penguin, don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed the blond at the gym, and Shachi’s had his eye on the lady in the gift shop for a while now.”

“You’re cruel,” Shachi mumbled, absolutely devastated. “To be honest, I don’t know who’s worse.”

“I think after the Captain and Miss Robin get married, I’m gonna go home for a bit,” Bepo grumbled. “I wanna meet a cute bear and there’s no bears here, let alone any other Minks.”

“If you opened up your horizons, there would be plenty in the dating pool,” Penguin noted.

“I’m not attracted to Humans and you know that,” Bepo whined. He began to argue with Penguin and Shachi, with Law slowly ignoring their words. None of them knew what it was like, and how could they? The goobers only knew lust and Bepo went through puberty far from anyone even capable of catching his eye. He thought of Robin coming back from her conference and how lonely it must have been for her—if only because he knew how lonely it was for himself—and what he might do to welcome her back. He only snapped back to the conversation at-hand when Shachi waved a hand in front of his face and caught his attention.

“Yo, Captain, stop thinking of your other meals and start concentrating on this one,” he joked. Law scowled at him—it wasn’t funny. “Now, are you going to tell us what the schedule looks like for the outgoing month? I want to see if we can get in a crew camping trip before the snows fly.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chopper had called a joint meeting of the Straw Hat and Heart Pirates to discuss the situation Law was in. Everyone crammed into the Polar Tang’s mess hall, with crews interspersed amongst each other. Although he acknowledged right off the bat that patient privacy was essential under normal conditions, the extenuating circumstances of the situation made this a bit different than usual.

“The thing that’s attached to Torao’s face is a very rare type of shell-less mollusk that is most-often seen being created via a Devil Fruit,” the young doctor said. He placed a book on the table, open to a page with a drawing of another specimen, presumably latched onto the face of a slave. “The good news is that we have the ability to save him; the bad news is that it’s very tricky.”

“What do you mean tricky?” Sanji wondered. “If it’s a mollusk it can be killed and eaten, right? Just throw some salt on it and it shrivels.”

“It’s not that simple,” Chopper explained. “I’ve corroborated Jean Bart’s first-hand accounts with multiple sources of written documentation—this thing does not give up its prey easily and attempts at doing so can be lethal.”

“Prey?!” the Heart Pirates panicked.

“Yes—what’s happening to Torao is normally a mechanism by which they kill their food, by slowly starving them to death without them even realizing.” Chopper brought out another diagram, which was a cross-section of the creature. “While in this form, it’s just a parasite, feeding off the nutrients in his bloodstream. It has even grown since I began my observation. By continuing the intravenous care, we can keep both it and Torao alive for as long as we see fit, but that’s just it… it’s both of them.”

“…but what happens if you stop the treatment?” Clione wondered. “It’s not like we can keep doing this forever.”

“If we stop the treatment, then Torao will slowly die, and when he does, the parasite becomes a scavenger and will feed on his internal organs and use his corpse as a nest,” Chopper replied frankly. Everyone in the room went pale—what the fuck? “It’s likely used by Celestial Dragons to torture their slaves because of the toxin that it emits while keeping the victim incapacitated. What better way to break someone’s spirit but to show them how good their life could be, only to remind them that they’re still a slave?”

“That���s sick,” Nami frowned. “My question is: how did it get on Torao?”

“I don’t know if that’s the question we should be asking at this point since it takes away from the fact his life is in danger,” Ikkaku said. She grunted as she stared at the anatomical drawing of the creature—it looked nasty as hell. “Jean Bart said he knows these things can come off on their own. Do you know how to do it so we don’t hurt him?”

“The creature’s toxin can be overcome by the victim under certain circumstances,” Chopper said. “They’re sensitive to their victim’s brainwaves and will detach when it seems like its in danger of regaining awareness. That would surely mean getting hurt, since the victim would most likely try to pry it off and hurt the creature in the process. Hurt it while it’s still attached to him and we don’t know what kind of damage we’d do to Torao’s psyche, let alone if it will just try to hide inside him.”

“So Torao just needs to tell it to let him go?” Luffy asked, head cocked to the side as he thought. “I thought he would have done that by now.”

“It’s not that simple,” Chopper said. “According to sources, doing that involves the victim realizing that the dream they are experiencing is not real and using that as a jumping point to shatter that reality. Without that, Torao will keep dreaming until he dies.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping lately because of dreams,” Shachi offered. “The captain’s not exactly brimming with warm and fuzzy memories. Whatever has him in there has his ass good.”

“What kind of a life is better than this one?” Luffy wondered. Penguin sighed at that; Law was going to kill them all when he woke up.

“It’s not really our place to say, especially since I don’t know what he’s told all of you, but his hometown kind of went through two different genocide events and he’s possibly the only survivor. Something tells me that whatever that thing is having the captain see, it’s related to that stuff turning out different.”

“…but that would mean no Polar Tang! No Heart Pirates!” Uni huffed. “What kind of a life is that?!”

“A normal one,” Bepo said sadly. Everyone looked over at him and saw that he was picking at his paws as he stared at a spot on the floor. “Captain’s always wanted to be a doctor… maybe he’s dreaming about being a successful surgeon after never meeting us…” He sucked in a sniffle—the thought was almost too much to bear.

“Is there anything in your research about what we can do?” Jean Bart asked. Chopper grimaced.

“Yes and no,” he replied. “There is some thought to the idea that a victim who is aware of what’s going on from the beginning can have an easier time defeating it, but not a lot of research has been done in that regard. I highly doubt Torao knew any of it going in, and getting data on it is risky. The ethics alone surrounding using a control group in an experiment like that is dubious at-best…”

“…but, we might be able to help Torao,” Luffy said. “That is what you said, right Chopper?”

“Possibly…? I’m not entirely sure how though…”

“Let me go in.” The room went quiet as Robin stepped forward. “I can go into Torao’s dream with full knowledge of the parasite and help him escape. If the parasite is showing him what I think it is, then I know what he’s feeling—I can help.”

“…but Miss Robin,” Shachi frowned, “we don’t even know why this thing is on the captain.”

“You called us for help, correct? The let me help.”

“I dunno…” Chopper mused. “This is not a well-tested method. How do you know that you would be accessing Torao’s dream and not get sucked into your own?”

“You said it yourself: the creature is growing,” she replied. “If it latches onto both of us, it might be able to let me access Torao’s dream since it would have to sync our brainwaves in order to handle us both. Wouldn’t that make sense?”

“Well, yeah, if we were in a science fiction or fantasy novel…”

“…and if I don’t find him, then I escape my dream as quick as I can,” she assured.

“It’s a better plan than nothing,” Penguin said.

“You can’t, Robin,” Nami scowled. “That thing is killing Torao—if you allow it to touch you, it’ll be like signing up for the exact same fate.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Robin replied. “It’s a risk I’m sure many of us would take considering how Torao has helped us. Whomever goes in has to know what they’re doing.”

“Robin did pretend she was a bad guy for a long time before we came around,” Luffy noted aloud. He then nodded in approval. “But you better come back, okay?”

“It’s a promise, Captain,” Robin smiled. Luffy smiled back, his grin as wide and brilliant as ever.

“Alright! Now, who’s up for some lunch? Sanji! I’m hungry!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Family Dinner Night, was—as it often was—awkward.

It wasn’t as though Law did not enjoy spending time with his parents and sister—that wasn’t the case. There was simply plenty more he could have been doing, could have been reading, could have been seeing without his family there making conversation as they shared a meal. Three times a week. It was almost too much for him to stomach.

“You should have seen Law-nii!” Lami said excitedly. She was explaining her afternoon to her parents, the pair amused at her enthusiasm. “Any time he had a complication, he used his Devil Fruit and bap! They were stabilized again!”

“I wonder when bap became a technical term,” her mother chuckled.

“I dunno, but it’s probably around the time our children got old enough for med school,” her father teased. He noted that Law was very quiet, picking at his potatoes almost sullenly. “Speaking of med school, I haven’t seen that face since before you were enrolled. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Law lied. He shoveled up some veg and stuffed it in his mouth. “Just a little lost in thought, I guess.”

“He misses Robin and his hand doesn’t cut it anymore,” Lami quipped. Law sat up straight and kicked his sister in the shin angrily—what the fuck?!

“Nika save us—kids, what have I told you?!” the mother hissed. “You’re both adults for seas’ sake!”

“Angela, they’re siblings. That’s what siblings do.”

“I know that, Lars, but they are both in their twenties! They should have cut this out a whole decade ago!”

“Relax—just let them be.”

“Yeah; it’s not my fault that she’s jealous I even have someone,” Law sniped. Now it was Lami’s turn to kick him under the table, which only served to irritate their mother further.

“That’s it,” she hissed. “Oath or not, I will end both of you if you don’t straighten up! It’ll be a miracle if either of you don’t mess it up at this rate.”

“Moer…”

“Don’t moer me, young man.” Law flinched slightly at how sharp his mother’s voice was, instead deciding it was worth spearing a bit of potato and shoving it in his mouth. She let out a breath and shook her head. “Don’t make me the bad guy. I don’t like being the bad guy.”

Law swallowed his food and mumbled, “Sorry I kicked you and reminded everyone you’re alone.”

Lami shifted in her chair. “Sorry I kicked you and made it clear I can hear you through the walls in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t know if that’s better, but you know what? I’m going to take it.” Their mother groaned in frustration before taking a long drink of her water. “Whoever said parenting adult children is easier was lying through their teeth.”

“That would be your cousin who, yes, lies through her teeth.” Law and Lami exchanged a glance; their father was treading on dangerous territory. Again. Instead of continuing, however, he cleared his throat and picked up his own water glass. “So, kids, any thoughts on the new provost the college is importing? I hear she’s going to be a rough one when it comes to academics?”

Yeah, maybe that was going to be a safer topic.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was after dinner and Law was helping clean up the dishes. His mother and Lami were in the sitting room going over her observation notes from the surgery, while Law and his father were in the kitchen washing dishes. It was usually safer to keep the siblings separated after a spat at dinner and their parents kept to that despite the fact everyone in the house was now an adult. They worked in practiced silence until the sound of Lami’s groaning made them both smirk.

“If Lami didn’t insist on kicking and screaming and pouting the entire way, she’d already be a medical professional and your moer would be off her back,” his father chuckled. Law shook his head.

“I doubt,” he replied. Law picked up another dish from the soapy water and scrubbed the crocheted washcloth over it before putting it in the rinse water. “Hey, uh, Vaor?”

“Yes?

“Have you heard anything lately about dream studies from anyone over in neurology?”

His father continued taking dishes out of the rinse water and placing them in the drying rack. “The same-old: no one knows how they originate and interpretation is based on conjecture and bias. Why do you ask? Got someone on your floor insisting otherwise?”

“No… just…” He paused, wondering if he should lie or not. “I’ve been having some… intense dreams lately.”

“How intense are you talking about?” His father paused to allow him room to elaborate, yet he didn’t, causing the older man to lean in a bit closer and drop his voice. “If it’s sex dreams about your girlfriend, that’s normal even if you’re an adult.”

“I wish it was that,” Law scoffed. He took his hands out of the dishwater and leaned against the counter. Fuck… this was so weird. “It’s… have you ever had a dream that took place over a long period of time?”

“Like, a recurring dream…?”

“No, like, you go to sleep and just… live. I recently had a dream where I lived an entirely different life and I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Mmm. I take it that it’s not a pleasant life.”

“No.” Law could feel himself tremble as he swallowed hard. “I dreamt… I dreamt what would have happened if you and Moer hadn’t found the treatment for Amber Lead in time. Everyone was just… gone.”

“Gone? You mean, dead? Come on, Law… even all the worst-case scenarios would have left Flevance with a population mostly comprised of first-and-second-generation immigrants. You’ve seen the data.”

“I know, but…” Fuck, this was awkward to the point he wished it was just a sex dream. “In this dream, no one else outside of Flevance believed it was a heavy metal poisoning. They thought it was infectious instead and… and… between the fires and the bullets I was the only one who made it out alive.” He turned towards his father, who was looking at him curiously. “Am I going nuts?”

“No, I don’t think so,” the older man said. He dried his hands on a dishrag before patting his son on the back. The pair were echoes of one another separated by thirty-two years and at that point they really felt it. “Maybe… maybe you’re just nervous about Robin coming over once she’s back from that conference. It could be that your subconscious is seeing the prospect of settling down and is coming up with different ways your life could have gone. I think it’s just going a little overboard because you don’t exactly have an ex to wonder about.”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah.” Law couldn’t help but feel like a child as his father drew him into a hug despite the need to crouch slightly into it. “It’s scary to consider that kind of commitment, even if you feel ready.” His father then held him at arm’s length and smirked knowingly at him. “Did you pick the ring up yet?”

“Yeah, it’s in my room.” His face flushed hot as he thought of the piece of jewelry—because that’s all it really was—and how it was going to change everything… for better or worse. “How did you propose to Moer?”

“I was too chicken to do it directly and slipped the ring in her purse while we were doing clinicals together; took her almost three weeks to find.”

“That’s kind of pathetic.”

“Yeah, but the point is that you can’t possibly do it worse than me if you’re coming at her face-to-face.” His father ruffled his hair and chuckled. “Don’t overthink it.”

“All I can do is overthink, what, with the weird dreams and all.”

“You’ll be fine—you’ll see.” Law’s father then gestured back to the sink. “Let’s finish these up before the water gets cold, hmm? I think doing something with your hands will help.”

“Yeah, something that won’t risk traumatizing the neighborhood kids,” Lami snarked, standing just outside the kitchen. It was clear that she had just slid into the conversation, so Law took pity on her and when he opened a Room, all he did was switch the dishcloth with a speck of dust over her head and not an entire soapy dish. Who ever said he wasn’t charitable?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Twilight had long given way to the dim darkness of the city as Law made his way down the maze of streets that was Flevance, finding his way towards a street settled on either side of a moonlit canal. The night chill made him pull the collar of his coat tighter as he tried to not look like he was suspiciously hurrying. He found a specific door and used the key to enter, then another key at the top of the staircase that led into the flat. The moment he was over the threshold a sort of calm overtook him as it usually did; it was difficult to be on-edge in Robin’s place.

Not wanting to fail his original purpose for going, Law shucked off his coat and grabbed the watering can, getting to work on caring for Robin’s multitude of plants that were scattered around the studio flat. Could she have left it to one of the downstairs neighbors? Of course she could have, but that would have given him less of an excuse to leave his parents’ house… to be in the space that was very, very her. He put down the watering can and picked up one of his hooded sweatshirts from its perch on the battered sofa—one deep breath and he could smell her perfume still on it.

Okay, so he had been planning on jerking it in the flat before his sister mentioned his relationship at dinner, but now the entire idea tasted sour. He put the sweatshirt back down and continued to water the plants, eventually heading back to the sink for a refill once the watering can emptied.

“I missed you,” he said aloud, trying to imagine what he would say to Robin next time he saw her. No… that wasn’t right. “How was the conference? Did they like your presentation? I missed you.” No, that wasn’t right either…

Law put the watering can down on the dining area table and looked around. Their lives were already beginning to meld as his things began to lay about abandoned, often in preparation for them to have sex. Both of their book collections sat on the shelves and in piles everywhere, evidence of many a night they spent together studying and working. Little things here and there made the place their own little haven, and it was something he didn’t entirely want to let go.

“Robin, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and…” He trailed off, unsure how to continue. “Robin, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and do you want to make this permanent? No… that’s fucking stupid.” He scratched at his scalp and began to pace, wondering how he was going to do this.

Should he wait a while or ask her right after she returned from her conference? In the flat? At the park? No, nowhere public—he knew better. Should he go down on one knee or hide it in the flat so he could take it out after they had sex? If he hid it, would he keep it within an arm’s reach, or would Scrambling it into his hand be enough? Law took the ring box out of his coat pocket and felt its weight in his hand. It was not a heavy box by any means, but it was enough to feel a difference, which was honestly enough.

“Nico Robin, will you do me the hono—no, not that. Robin, will you—no, shit. Do you want to make this permanent? Because I want to make this permanent.” He grimaced. “Trafalgar D. Water Law, you are a fucking idiot.” He allowed his feet to take him to the bed and he flopped into it, the unmade linens rumpled and askew underneath him, looking up through the skylight at the city-dimmed stars.

“If you know any pointers, I’d like to know,” he said to no one in particular. Law kicked off his boots and pulled his legs up into the bed, curling up in the space he was well-acquainted with sharing. It smelled like her soap, the books she was always absorbed in, the coffee that was a staple during their late nights… it was so comforting that he felt like he could sleep there.

“We shouldn’t have to be punished for wanting to learn history!”

Law inhaled sharply as his dream came back to him, the words weighing down on his chest. He had said those words, but only in the auspices of his highly-realistic dream… but why? Most Flevench citizens worth their weight in the Amber Lead extracted from their bodies distrusted the central government nearly by default, but in the dream he had been saying it to an Emperor of the Sea as he and some metalhead from the South Blue readied to take her down. Why was he telling a Yonkou that? What knowledge was she keeping under lock and key? The dream was becoming hazy—as all dream did—but that did not mean it wasn’t still bothering him.

“Robin,” he whispered, “I never want this to end. Can we get married so that it doesn’t have to?”

The silence that met him was more assuring than it had any right to be.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Robin flexed her arm as she looked at the IV hookup that was already placed in her forearm as a precaution. Chopper, Bepo, and Jean Bart were in the process of transferring Law to a larger bed, placing him on his side, positioned carefully so that his windpipe remained clear. They were the only ones on the entire Polar Tang, as everyone else had to be sequestered to the Thousand Sunny so that work could get done. It had been less than two days since the Straw Hats had gotten the call and yet they knew that time was extremely important to making sure that not only Law lived, but now Robin as well.

“It looks like everything’s set,” Chopper said with a nod. He watched as Robin sat down on the edge of the mattress, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. “Last chance: are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah—I can still go in and get the Captain,” Bepo offered. “He’s been my best friend for years.”

“Thank you; I think having someone as a backup will be important,” she replied. Robin shifted in order to lay down, placing her forehead close to where Law’s was underneath the parasite. The creature clicked and purred, reaching out tentatively towards Robin with one of the tentacles on its back. She watched it as it inched closer to her without losing its grip on Law.

‘None of it is real,’ she thought to herself. ‘None of it is real. None of it is real. Everything this thing shows me will not be real…’ She took hold of Law’s inked hand in hers, hoping it would help ground her.

Nico Robin gasped and the world went dark.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Demonology: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: What makes someone evil? The things they do or because of what’s inside them? If children are born innocent, at what point does evil enter them? Everyone’s beliefs and faiths are tested on a religious level.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"What happened?"

"I think there may be a third victim. We have ligature marks, the Spain connection, and scuff marks under the bed," Emily says.

"Y/N?"

"All I saw were five people in Patrick's room all dressed like priests. Three of them were physically holding Patrick down while one of them performed the exorcism. There isn't evidence to show foul intention. It looked like a real exorcism."

"Hotch, it's weird, but there's no way to physically connect dehydration, a heart attack, and an aneurysm," Derek says.

Hotch looks at the ground in thought, and his eyebrows furrow in concern.

"What's going on?"

"We've had a complaint. JJ's trying to smooth it over with DC police, but we haven't been invited to the case."

Hotch leaves and Emily turns to Derek with anger in her eyes.

"That's how you have my back?"

"Prentiss, I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection."

"Hotch just said he got a complaint, and he didn't come down on you. Do you realize that? You just dodged a bullet. We have to approach this just like we do any other case."

"Emily, you're too close to this case."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You're grieving over your friend dying. You want to see a connection where there may be none."

"That woman couldn't even use Patrick's name. She could only say, 'my fiancé' because she's convinced something else died in that room that night."

It's the way she said it that has you shocked.

"Emily!"

She walks away without another word. Hotch is watching from his office where Rossi is also, and you walk over to them to talk about Emily's behavior. You haven't talked to Emily directly about this, but you've been observing her the whole day. There is something she is hiding about all of this and she won't get anywhere if she doesn't come clean about it.

"Can I talk to you both?" you ask and knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Look, Emily is desperate for answers about her friend. He died and she won't accept that it could have been a heart attack. I'm really worried about her."

"Keep an eye on her. You can read her better than I can," Hotch says.

"You got it."

"As far as the police are concerned, there is no open murder investigation," JJ says and walks into the office. "We have no reason to be investigating if they're not."

"They're right. All we have are three men who died of three very different natural causes."

"We're just going to drop it?" Rossi asks. "Y/N says she saw five people performing an exorcism."

"Dave, do you really believe we're dealing with someone trying to exorcize demons?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Possession, mental illness, exorcist, unsub? Who cares what's true? People are dying."

"He's right, Hotch. This isn't about religion. It's about evil. We attack it with analysis and diligence. I think we should be looking at the churches."

"All hail the mistress of information," Penelope announces her presence. "I got a posting from a web bulletin board by Matthew Benton to create a support group for people who felt betrayed by their faith."

"That explains how the three men came together."

"It gets better. The week the three of them were in Spain, the services at Santiago de Compostela were canceled when the priest there died."

"How?"

"Heart attack, but if you listen to the conspiracy chatter, there is a strong belief he was killed to interrupt services during the height of the pilgrimage."

"How?" JJ asks.

"Their best guess is some kind of gas, sarin or VX, something that wouldn't show up in an autopsy. It could induce stress and cause a heart attack."

"Now we have a motive," you say, "with a potential MO. An eye for an eye."

"Without an invitation from the police, I cannot authorize an investigation. This has to be kept quiet."

Emily is talking to someone by her desk, and based on her expressions, she knows the man. Rossi looks at you and nudges you to follow him, so you let him lead you down to where Emily and her friend are.

"David Rossi and Y/N, this is John Cooley. He was also a friend of Matthew."

"I'm sorry for your loss. Is there anyone he associated with out of the ordinary? Anyone overtly religious?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I've been doing my best to retrace his steps, but I still haven't come up with anything."

"Can we buy you a cup of coffee?" Rossi asks Emily.

"Yeah. I will call you if I hear anything," she says to John. You're not sure why Rossi wants you here, but you can read her better than anyone. Rossi gets both of you coffee, but instead of drinking it at the coffee shop, he takes you two to an abandoned house that's been fenced off. "There are nicer places to take a girl for coffee."

"Have you ever seen The Exorcist?"

"Yeah."

"The real case started right here. The fire department actually burned down the house themselves. The authorities referred to the boy as Robbie Doe. He's still in the DC area today."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"A whole lot of effort went into destroying the house of a kid who probably had onset Schizophrenia or Tourette's Syndrome."

"I'm sorry, I'm not following you."

"You're sure Matthew was murdered. So, what's the story?" Emily immediately becomes closed off, and she can barely look at you. "If you don't want to explain, that's fine but if you do, then I'm all in."

"I can leave if you don't want me here."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry for what I said back there. You didn't deserve that."

"It's okay."

"Matthew knew the bible inside and out, and he started to question everything. We moved around a lot when I was a kid because of my mom's postings. It was hard to get accepted, and when you're fifteen, that's all you want. You'll do almost anything."

"You got pregnant, did you?" Rossi asks.

"Yeah."

"Was Matthew the father?"

"No. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell my mom. Matthew suggested I talk with our priest. He said that if I had an abortion, I wouldn't be welcome in his congregation."

"What did you do?" you ask.

"Matthew found a doctor and took me there. He stayed with me the whole time. That Sunday when we got back to Rome, he held my hand and walked me into the church. Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, Matthew told me to hold my head up, and we walked to the front pew. He and Matthew just stared at each other. It was like a battle of wills, and then suddenly, Father Gamino went back to his sermon. Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of love and friendship."

"That's when the anger and questioning started, didn't it?"

"Yeah. He started doing drugs, and when that melded with his religious questioning, you can understand why his parents were afraid he was possessed by something evil. It's my fault that Matthew's life unraveled." You get tears at her story because her grief and emotions roll over to you. "You of all people should know how I feel."

"I do." You bring her in for a hug and rub her back soothingly. "Nothing you say or do will change how I view you, how much I respect you, and how much I love you. I am here for you through anything you want to come to me for."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"Garcia uncovered some information. It's possible Matthew and the others killed someone in Spain," Rossi lays it on the line.

"No. I don't believe that."

"I'm just saying if we keep pushing, you have to be prepared for what we might discover."

"I need Matthew to rest in peace. I owe him that," she sighs.

"Then let's give the profile."

"The police haven't invited us in."

"We're not giving it to the police. I believe we're trying to catch a priest who is killing people who he believes to be 'not right' with society. The profile will only do us good if we give it to other priests."

Rossi's friend he visited earlier, Father Davison, gathers all the priests he can in the local area to hear this profile. One of these people knows who your unsub is, and you hope they will come clean and prevent him from killing others. Some aren't too happy to be here, but Father Davison quickly eases their concerns.

"As I was saying to the agents, this is a topic on which we usually agree to silently disagree."

"We respect that," Emily states. "We are not here to examine your beliefs in demonology or exorcism, but we are operating on the theory that the person responsible for these deaths does believe."

"We believe the inciting incident was the death of Father Raul del Toro in Galicia, Spain four months ago."

"How so, David?" Father Davison says.

"There's someone who believes that the death was actually a murder."

"You're not suggesting that this is some kind of retribution, are you?"

"Even a priest can have a psychotic break. He may be under the delusion that he is working for God. The man we're looking for would be obsessed with the event in Galicia. He believes he's fighting evil and may very well have followed these men here to Washington. We also believe that one of the exorcisms took place over enough days for the victim to die of dehydration."

"If I may," Father Davison interrupts, "an exorcism is like a prize fight. It's completely draining, both physically and spiritually. Now, if this man truly performed three rituals within the last few weeks, he would need medical care."

"Is there somewhere he would go?"

"Anything less than a working hospital would be too dangerous."

You and Spencer make eye contact since you two are thinking the same exact thing. You two excuse yourselves from the meeting to call Penelope who is eager to help.

"Garcia, it's Reid and Y/N."

"Speak boy and girl wonder," she grins.

"I need you to run Catholic hospital records. Look for any admissions for exhaustion immediately following Patrick Cavanaugh's death."

"Typing as you speak. I need more."

"Run the same search for the days following the first two deaths," you add.

"Oh, I sense a cross-check in my future."

"Do you have anything?"

"Father Paul Silvano. Currently at St. Agatha's Hospital in room 214."

If Paul is your unsub, then he must know the Feds and police are closing in on him. You're not sure how this is going to go which is why you, Rossi, Emily, and Spencer head to the hospital to talk to him. Four people are enough to overtake him if he decides to try anything. When you get there, Paul is completely calm and collected. He's packing up his things since he's being discharged right now. He doesn't seem too concerned with the Feds coming to him,

From the first sight of him, you know he's the unsub. You can see Thomas, Matthew, and Patrick through him. Their spirits and energies attached themselves to him like a parasite.

He murdered them.

You nudge Rossi and give him two nods to let him know you have your unsub.

"Are you Father Paul Silvano?"

"Yes."

"Were you present at the Deaths of Thomas Valentine, Matthew Benton, and Patrick Cavanaugh?"

"I've been expecting you."

"He asked you a question," Emily glares.

"Yes, I was present."

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say--"

"Guarda nel cassetto del tavolo dietro di te," he says in Italian.

"What did he say?" Spencer asks.

"He wants you to look in the drawer." You walk past them and open the drawer to find papers inside. Upon further examination, you see what these papers truly are. "What is it?"

"It's diplomatic status. He has immunity."

He can't be held liable for a violation of the law in this country. The Italian government must have granted him this when he came over here. It doesn't matter if he has it or not. He was present for all three murders, which makes him a witness. It doesn't seem to bother him when Rossi and Emily take him back to the BAU to be questioned.

In fact, he's as calm as can be. He truly believes he can't get in trouble for whatever he's doing. Emily is fucking pissed at this because she knows he killed her friend, and it's quite clear to everyone else. Not only was he present, but he has immunity which makes him look like a guilty man who is only protected by a piece of paper.

Emily is inside the room with him alone since she requested that you, Rossi, and JJ are outside watching them talk.

"Explain to me why you were the last person in the room when three men died."

"I'm a priest. I was there for them spiritually."

"They weren't on their deathbeds."

"Not physically."

"Did you kill them?"

"No."

"But you're not sorry any of them are dead?"

"Physical death is always sad, but now their souls are in Heaven. For that, their families have peace."

"His record is spotless up until four months ago. There's no history of mental illness. He even got invited to say mass at the Washington National Cathedral," JJ says.

"What happened four months ago?"

"It doesn't provide any details. It just says he took a sabbatical for personal reasons. Four months ago is when that priest died in Spain. It looks like he lobbied the Vatican for a diplomatic posting but they refused. After that, he took the world hunger mission from the Italian Government, which brought him here with immunity."

"Where's Hotch?" Rossi asks.

"He's on the phone with the State Department."

"Gather the others. I'll be there In a second."

JJ leaves and you turn your attention back to Emily and Paul.

"Did you know the priest who died in Galicia?"

"Father Del Toro and I were at seminary together. That's where I met him."

"Did you know that Matthew Benton and the other men were in Galicia the week he died?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe they committed murder?"

"I was contacted by a family member. He was frightened. He told me his real son never returned home from that trip. I said that I could help rid his child of evil."

"What did you tell the other family members after you watched their sons die? That it was God's will?"

"I never laid a hand on anyone with malice in my life."

"Then explain these deaths to me."

"Rossi, she's too close to this," you say. "She shouldn't be questioning him. He killed her friend, and she is grieving. She needs to take a step back."

"You know the power of evil. You've been fighting it a long time. The storm is almost over."

He says something in Italian to her, and she responds in the same language. Rossi doesn't comment on what you said. Instead, he guides you out of the room and over to the briefing room where everyone else is.

"What'd he say?" Spencer asks.

"He claims he was invited by the families, and he has them believing their loved ones are in a better place."

"They're all devout. The people they loved were troubled. With his stature, it's either believe they're in a better place or live with the guilt."

"It doesn't matter. We can't arrest him," you sigh.

"Can we deport him?"

"Probably not. It's crazy. Diplomatic immunity wasn't intended to shield people from murder charges."

"Why doesn't Hotch bypass the State Department and go straight to the Italian Government?" Penelope asks.

"He'll lose his career. The State Department won't risk the potential embarrassment. They'll shut us all down."

"What do we do now?" Spencer asks.

"Did you check his papers with ICE?" you ask Penelope.

"Yeah. His diplomatic status runs till the end of the month."

"That's weird. He told Emily 'The storm's almost over'. Forget priests. Think unsub. He's a believer. He deals in certainties. In his mind, he has a job to do, which doesn't end until the end of the month. The storm's almost over."

"There's another victim on his list."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[bonesandthebees]

Anyway, eavesdropping! Why are all your Wilbur’s so damn nosy? (I’m referring to Stars. My son. A lot of late night snooping in that one. Curious boy.)

[“Is there a problem, pumpkin?”] This is the same nickname we’ve heard before, right? When Wilbur first overheard that Quackity and Schlatt were working together? This implies some sort of closeness, but I’m pretty sure Quackity did not like the nickname then, and he does not like it now. The fact Schlatt still uses it, implies how unhealthy their relationship is.

It’s also a big power imbalance. Schlatt holds the upper hand. He has the money and thus the power to back Quackity. He needs Quackity to be named heir because he does not like the other two options, and because he can control him (aka manipulate him because of the power imbalance).

Side note: if Quackity and Schlatt do have a romantic involvement (like in canon) then that’s an extra reason for Schlatt to not like Wilbur, since tntduo clearly has something going on. Like being Phil’s son is part of it, as well as Niki!s right hand. BUT the nickname could also be to flaunt his older age/power over Quackity.

Anyway, [The shit you keep pulling is causing problems. ] I wonder what shit he’s referring to. The Tommy assassination seems too long ago for them to have a fight about now… but it could be re-triggered by the ball. Or it could be plans for a new attempt. Maybe pressure Sam. Bride someone else. There’s options, but none of them are relevant since 1. Schlatt is dead and 2. There’s a time skip, if something was in place, it would be a short term arraignment. Unless of course the deal is over once the money man has died.

[The next thing Wilbur heard was a pained noise.] referring back to how killing Schlatt is also protecting Quackity. This is not a safe environment and Q is now stuck with him. The plan is already made up by that point. But it could be an extra reason why Wilbur does not want to fail when it needs to be carried out.

(3/?)

-🌲

"why are all your wilbur's so nosy" because he's gotta know what's going on he's a nosy mfer who wants to what's going on with everyone

like real answer rose!wilbur has been trained his entire life to be searching for information anywhere he can get it. his dad runs an entire information network of servants based entirely off of eavesdropping. but also he does like gossip outside of that. he and niki have had some insane gossip sessions.

oh yeah schlatt loves using that nickname for quackity and quackity doesn't like it. he can tell that schlatt uses it to be condescending. quackity technically ranks above schlatt (barely, but he is above him) but schlatt disregards any kind of formality to bring quackity beneath him. after all, he's the one with the money and power between them. the power imbalance is very present and quackity's rank does nothing to even it out.

I've decided to leave the nature of schlatt and quackity's relationship a bit ambiguous. schlatt definitely flirts with quackity quite a bit and I think quackity certainly flirts back when they're alone, but it's a constant game between them of what's real and what's manipulation. does schlatt flirt as another kind of power move? does quackity flirt back to keep schlatt on his side? or is there actually something there? it's up to reader interpretation, but either way I'll confirm that schlatt is really annoyed by whatever's going on between wilbur and quackity. it jeopardizes the control schlatt has over quackity, and theres definitely a bit of jealousy there too.

hmm... maybe you'll find out what their argument was about or maybe you won't but schlatt certainly did something to piss quackity off

oh yeah, if wilbur had any remaining moral qualms about killing schlatt that definitely got rid of them. again, even outside of whatever weird thing wilbur and quackity have going on, quackity is still one of wilbur's childhood friends. he wasn't thrilled seeing how schlatt treated quackity behind closed doors.

[bcolfanfic]

Spill the lore of what happened with cros and his sandra equivalent in the yv au 👀. I know you’ve talked a little about it before but I’m messy and live for drama

i first want to clarify that i know like. realistically he could get in huggeeee UCMJ trouble if he truly got caught doing this in a modern setting but. this is an au and i make the rules so that doesn’t happen 🙏🏼. maybe part of benny making him call jean and tell her is that they won’t snitch.

but yeah woof. i also love messy. i *love* croz, and love making him a complicated little shit. <3

it all starts bc he kinda loses his shit after bubbles dies. gets sent somewhere on leave for a bit and *almost* gets to go back to the states for some time. but then shit hits the fan and he’s needed back in bagram and it’s right back into the fire. one thing on top of another and he’s. not doing good.

a girl from another unit sees him when he’s eating somewhere alone late at night and slides into the bench across from him to keep him company and that’s how they get to talking. he habitually goes to that area when he can’t sleep, and then as they start talking more she does too and it. progresses from there. *not* that what he does is justified at all but. his mental health is in a spiral, he feels like the war is never going to end and she’s. nice and pretty and *there*. what happens happens.

benny and douglass are used to him coming back to the room late bc of his night walks, but then he starts not being back until *the morning* and that’s what makes benny start to get real side eye about it. it initially doesn’t even cross his mind that croz would even do something like that, but then he seems him and that girl sitting somewhere talking during the day looking awfully close and is like. oh. oh shit you little fuck.

next time he’s gone at night he chugs a couple energy drinks and just waits up in the dark for him to get back. talked jamie into doing it with him lmfao jamie is like okay. i guess but like what if you’re overthinking this??? and benny is like mmm no i’m not (:

croz comes back at like 3am and all the lights are on- which means they can both see he doesn’t exactly look /tired/. in blunter words it’s very clear all over his face that he just had sex. jamie is kinda. shocked that benny was right and doesn’t say anything but benny goes right into ripping into him. all fake nice asks where he was- is like yeah /wrong answer/ when he tries to lie and just lays the fuck into him. whisper yelling asking what’s wrong with him- she know you’re married? you talk about your kids before you hit it??? and the more croz is a stuttering mess the more pissed he gets.

croz is eventually like fuck i’m sorry oh my god i get it- and that’s what makes benny snap and go after him physically. slams him against the bunk by the shirt and there’s a lot of yelling and chaos that damn near wakes the whole hall up before jamie pulls them apart. (gale tells john to go back to sleep when he says he’s gonna go see what’s going on lmao).

when people have slept and there are somewhat cooler heads that’s when croz kinda loses it. starts *bawling* about how awful he feels and the war and bubbles and about how none of it is an excuse but. benny isn’t anywhere near wanting to feel any pity for him, just kinda listens stone faced and says he needs to tell jean what he did or he will, up to him.

which croz, for all his issues does handle. as well as is required. which is more or less what saves benny from just hating him forever.

[eelfuneral]

Fictional Characters Never Really Die

In my college literature classes, I learned that in literary criticism, you almost always use the present tense. This is because the events of a story are “happening right now” every time you read or watch it. Any point of a story is “now” when you interact with it, making it more-or-less eternal. I was reminded of this while I was thinking about Tech. Even though he seems to have died in the narrative, any time that I turn on an episode before his untimely demise, he is very much alive. Unlike a real person that has died, I can boot up Disney+ and see Tech alive and well whenever I want.

Transformative fandom takes this fictional immortality a step further: we have taken the canon story of The Bad Batch and extended it into our own sandbox where anything can happen and be real for the characters. Tech doesn’t have to be dead in our headcanons, fanfics, fanart, or hearts. Though it isn’t “official” canon, Tech has the benefit of being a fictional, person-shaped concept that we can do with what we will, up to and including keeping him alive. The Tech in our fanworks is no less “real” than the Tech in the show, and we can think of all of these iterations of Tech as living in a million little multiverses — Think Everything Everywhere all at Once but on a more meta level. I don’t know about you, but in my little fandom universes that I like to craft, Tech is very much alive and well.

It’s okay to mourn the death of a character because they mean a lot to us, real or not. It isn’t “childish” to have these feelings, and IRL grief counselors agree! Hell, I’ve been tearing up on and off all day and I’m 31!

It’s also important to know that the fandom isn’t going anywhere. People still make fanworks about Padmé, Anakin, Kylo, and Fives, and all of these characters are very dead in canon. Hell, you probably see these fanworks every day, since none of these characters are dead in the eyes of fandom!

Tech lives on in the fandom, and is functionally immortal because of that. Nothing can take him away.

[guarire-me]

I wish I could go back to WI. I hate where I live, should’ve never returned here. What would’ve happened to me had I never contacted my cousin? If she never went out there for me? I believe I would’ve dropped dead before my friend’s mother passed away. I was malnourished, unemployed, fucked up & so it was a real bad mistake. But I’m stuck in NY on my own wishing so badly that I could go back to live in WI, just me. Not with that friend, just I need to get away from all this suburban crap it’s overpopulated & I am so sick & exhausted of everybody’s bullshit here. I feel like I can’t even fucking breathe. Everything is too loud & too much! I don’t know if that friend &/or his bro is doing some witchcraft/voodoo to make me feel this way but I’m dying to go back to rural living. I like their new home I wish I lived out there, why couldn’t I be born & raised in the country? Why am I stuck in this overpopulation town in this rude state. Can’t even go anywhere in peace, can’t even be home in peace either! I look at Google Maps & I’m so jealous & yearning to go back. I’ll even take MI. I just want rural without being stuck in blizzards so no upstate NY is not an option. I miss the rural lifestyle. Back then I don’t think I would’ve survived a year out there the way I was going nowhere I’d sleep until 2, nothing to eat, my time of the month was a nightmare, no doctor appts, no way to do laundry, friend’s parents tired of me, friend’s older bro had outbursts & they owned guns, I don’t think I would’ve lasted living had it not been for my cousin shelling out her hard earned money to come rescue my sorry ass. I would’ve died out there one way or another in 09. Anyway I’d go back to that state for ME. Not to rekindle with my friend, just for me to get away from this madness of overpopulation suburban I feel so sick being imprisoned in this town/area/state. I want to step outside without nosy neighbors all up in my business, I want to drive peacefully, I want to be able to shop, go out to eat/grab takeout, go to the bank etc etc without screaming crying kids, I can’t stand this super packed apt complex with the most nosiest rudest people around I swear, the unkindness is horrible. I’m an empath I feel & pick up every vibe & energy & none of it is good, I need to escape these toxic people. I can’t believe the disrespect. I want peace & to breathe. Only God knows what would’ve happened had I not contacted my cousin OR if she would’ve rejected me like no fuck you for doing that hope you rot you abandon all of us I don’t love you. Surely between being hungry & broke to Shane’s anger something would’ve ended my life over there before ‘10.

[briamichellewrites]

49

Apples and avocados. Jason would have to remember that. He enjoyed being able to talk with his sister-in-law. Muto and Donna gave him more of an update after she and Mara left. They also explained to Jack who she was. They first met in 1998. Mike brought her to Thanksgiving dinner because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. They then dated on and off for several years, but they remained close friends. It was about a year ago that she was in a serious car accident.

She and a friend were driving home from getting something to eat. They were waiting to cross through the intersection when they were hit on the driver’s side at around a hundred miles an hour. The accident caused her to have bleeding in her brain, fluid in her heart, and a broken leg. Along with minor cuts and bruises. She had emergency surgery to stop the bleeding in her brain.

She also had open heart surgery. Because of the trauma, she had permanent, irreversible brain damage and epileptic seizures. She was nonverbal and paralyzed. How did she move around in her wheelchair? She could move her hands but she lost the ability to move her arms. That was why she got a new monitor. Mike moved in with her after the accident, so he could take care of her. Were they married? Yes, they had a small courthouse wedding.

“She doesn’t want pity or sympathy. Mike’s band loves her. They don’t treat her any differently. They’re always joking around with her while making sure she’s okay. She has another group of friends who also come over to see her or help out.”

“What happened to the person who hit her?”

“She was found guilty of driving under the influence of drugs. All of us wanted her to go to jail, but she ended up being sentenced to community service.”

They found out after the arrest that the woman who hit her was her half-sister. That family never visited her in the hospital or asked how she was doing or how they could help. Where were her parents? Her mother died when she was a baby and her father died when she was seventeen years old. Biologically, she was an only child.

Even though it was late, Mike called home to see if Bria was still awake. She was. Mara set her phone up on speaker, so she could hear what he said and respond to him with her monitor. It was like a real conversation. She told him about having dinner with his parents, Jason, and his boyfriend, Jack. They just got home from that. How was that? It was very fun. She hadn’t seen Jason in a while, so she liked talking with him.

“Mara and I showed them my monitor and how it works.”

“I’m going to have to ask him about his boyfriend. This is the first time I’ve heard about it.”

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

He laughed. “I’m sure he won’t mind you telling me.”

“We should take a vacation somewhere when you get home. We could go hiking or something.”

“That is a great idea. It can’t be too remote because I want us to be near a hospital, so we can’t go camping or anything. Just in case. I’ll look into wheelchair-accessible hiking trails.”

“Awesome. Maybe Abbie can help me look into it tomorrow when she comes over. What time is it there where you are?”

It was about four in the morning, but they had a day off to sleep and rest. That sounded wonderful. He agreed it was. Would she bring the cats hiking? They would not enjoy being on leashes, though they would probably enjoy smelling everything. He laughed and agreed that was probably true. After talking for a while about the tour, they said I love you, and good night.

Mara left the room to give them privacy. Whatever they were talking about as husband and wife was none of her business. She noticed her coming over to her, so she got up and walked over to meet her. After taking the phone, she turned it off. How was the phone call? It was wonderful. They were going to plan a hiking trip somewhere close to LA. She was going to look into it with Abbie when she came over. A vacation sounded like a great idea.

“He called me at four in the morning.”

“Oh my gosh. Does he have to get up early?”

“No, they have the day off. He can sleep in.”

“Good. I’m glad you got to talk to him. Are you tired now?”

Yes, she was. It had been a fun day and evening but she was ready to go to sleep. They went into her room. She helped her to bed before hooking up her medical equipment. Abbie would be over the next morning to bring her to a group for adults with Lou Gehrig’s disease. It would be her first time going. Abbie called the contact person listed on the website to ask if she could attend since she didn’t have an official diagnosis. She was told that yes, she could attend.

Who would be joining her? Abbie gave her name. She was her nurse and caregiver. After getting more information, they ended the call. Bria was anxiously waiting to hear if she could go. She zoomed around the house to give her a distraction. When she heard she could go, she was very excited.

What was she excited about? She was excited about meeting other people like her. Maybe they could learn more about the disease and how to get a diagnosis. She thought that was possible. They might be serving snacks. Was she okay with bringing her feeding tube and supplies? Maybe she could have something to drink. Yes, she would like that.

She would pack it into her bag for her, then after breakfast. After saying good night, she walked out and closed the door behind her quietly. She then went into the kitchen and found the notebook. Mara wrote about their morning and afternoon. She wrote about having dinner with her in-laws and her phone call with Mike. It was a later night than usual, but there weren’t any problems. She was in a great mood the entire day.

Bria was one of the easiest patients she ever worked with. She loved coming to work and hanging out with her because she never knew what to expect. Abbie felt the same way. Ten out of ten would recommend having her as a patient. They had patients who were sometimes aggressive or borderline abusive, especially when it came to patients with brain injuries. But, not her.

She was more than a patient, she was like a friend. The house was quiet, as the cats were also asleep. She went to the dining room and worked on her laptop. It was near her room, so she would hear if any of her monitors went off. Meow. Rascal jumped up onto the table. He was awake and ready to cause trouble. She sighed as he sat on her keyboard. Do you just want attention? He slowly blinked at her. After getting what he wanted, he ran off and she continued working.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Monday, 15 May 2023

Beautiful Alex is still fired. He mopes and  commiserates with Stephanie a bit, and asks her to stick around for a few drinks as this delicately transitions into drunken moping and commiserating. Astoundingly, she agrees to this and even more astoundingly they don't fall into bed together. When she excuses herself to visit the ladies' room (she doesn't use the words "massive dump" but they're implied), her phone rings. Alex, seeing that it's Chad, answers and hands the phone to Stephanie as she returns from the can five pounds lighter than when she left.

(This is all a callback to that time Alex and Stephanie fucked. Her phone rang while she was out of the room and Alex, seeing it was Chad, hit the red button and turned off her phone. So they could fuck. This was entirely wrong of him, and she dumped his ass. I think this "answering her phone politely" thing is meant to show how much he's grown since that incident, but maybe just don't touch someone else's phone altogether, buddy?)

Sad Eyes Shawn has sad eyes because he shot his dad and now his dad's in a coma. This seems like an appropriate thing to feel sad and guilty about, but Roman tells him it wasn't his fault. Which is encouraging but also entirely incorrect. It is, in fact, entirely Shawn's fault that he shot his dad.

And out at sea, aboard the... did they even give this boat a name? I'm going to call it the HMS Lobsterfest. Aboard the Lobsterfest, our Brave Li'l Commando Boys manage to apprehend Dimitri (who I was really just starting to like, so I hope he doesn't go anywhere), rescue Kate and, perhaps most importantly of all, rescue Kate's wedding ring. Look, Roman has yet to make any kind of impression on me as a character in over a year, but he seems like a decent enough person. He thought his wife died in November, and then he thought she came back and died a second time when his own brother (also back from the dead) shot her. My point is, he's going to be very happy to see her and probably won't care if she lost her wedding ring in this 6-month adventure in the afterlife, in a science lab and at sea. But everyone does what Kate says because... well, she's Kate and she's magnificent.

She is then reunited with Roman and... well, I said this already. Roman seems like an okay guy, but he has zero screen presence whatsoever and his character is "married way out of his league and makes good clam chowder."  Back in November/December, we thought that we'd lost Kate, Kayla and Marlena. Then we got a whole insane roller coaster ride that followed them literally from the afterlife to a mad science lab and finally back home. Marlena just celebrated her 5000th episode, but the other two can't be too far behind that. These are dynamic legacy characters whose continued presence display a real respect for the show's history and are still very interesting to watch in their 60s and 70s. Watching Marlena and Kayla reunite with their (also legacy) partners was some of the best teary soap melodrama this show has delivered since I started watching. Kate and Roman reuniting had all the emotion of finding your reading glasses behind the couch. "Oh. I thought those were gone, but there they are. Now they're back where they belong and I barely even notice them in the first place. By design!"

And none of this is Kate's fault! She just ended up marrying a real Chakotay®-brand Plank of Wood™

And Dimitri reveals that oh, actually, he just happens to have another hostage and that's a pretty fucking solid place to end things. 

[luna-rainbow]

omg I missed your addition!! 😅

Agree, as always. It’s completely wild to claim that Peggy was any sort of support figure during his training when they didn’t even say a single word to each other. And that whole thing about belief is…just…I feel like I’ve seen a lot of people claim that Bucky is being ableist by not believing Steve’s ability to become a soldier, but the reality is able-bodied men were dying by the thousands. Belief is not going to save your ass when a grenade is flying towards your corner of the trench. It’s the mark of real concern that Bucky doesn’t want Steve there, not because he’s belittling him. As opposed to Erskine and Peggy, who just wanted Steve to succeed (“you’re meant for more than this”) because he needs to be their crowning achievement in order for them (or now, only her) to further her career, regardless of the risks to his well-being and safety. I mean, it’s not the writer’s intention, but she’s written like the cheer squad whose purpose is to flirt and egg Steve on to perform, while Bucky is the one written to be the partner: he’s the only one we see asking after Steve’s well-being and promising to support him and actually supporting him.

It irks me that they quoted a lot of my original meta out of context. I said “Steve was aghast” at Bucky being drafted, which did not happen on camera. That was just my meta based on canon events. Of course Steve didn’t look aghast when Bucky says he’s about to sail out because as you said Steve’s already had time to come to terms with that fact. And the “dream of home” specifically referred to Steve’s mindset as the war looked like it might end and before Bucky died. I’m sure, in that short few weeks, Steve thought he was going to get out of this okay and go home with Bucky. And when Bucky dies, that home is gone, which was why he had no qualms about putting himself in mortal danger to hunt down Hydra. He didn’t have anywhere to come back to. So yeah, Bucky was and is always a big part of what Steve considers his home. That home certainly didn’t include any of Peggy’s legacy for all the reasons you listed (no attachment to Shield or DC or England).

The “right partner” is the thing they hang up on but it has none of the narrative impact of “end of the line”. The first time it’s said, it’s during an awkward conversation where she tells him he doesn’t know how to talk to women. He tells her he’s waiting for the right partner to give an excuse as to why he’s not hitched. The Depression, the war, the job, the busy-ness of it all *hand waves vaguely*. On the one hand I do believe Steve felt it wasn’t the right time in life, on the other hand this is not an uncommon refrain used by queer people to avoid randos prying into their sexuality and the exact same excuse he gives Nat later. And the second time this line occurs, it’s Peggy offering it back with a clear, “hey, I think I’m the partner you have been waiting for” and he does not respond. Like. Zilch. No reaction. He only replies when she tells him what time Howard wants to meet him. This is “I’m not going to respond to personal requests but I will respond to work commitments”. Nothing, narratively, is put into motion by these exchanges. While the entire ending of CATWS hinges on the exchange of “the end of the line”. Like I’m not trying to do a ship war here but purely from a narrative perspective, they did not give the woman the line that makes Steve drop his entire identity at his feet.

A lot of fans from other ships likes to get hung up about the 2 years between CATWS and CACW as proof why they don’t, can’t, won’t ever love each other (even platonically). Their argument is either Bucky is selfish because he’s hiding, or Steve is selfish because he won’t respect Bucky’s wishes to not be found. As soon as they say this I know they’re lying about liking either of the characters because it is…literally the most obvious, human, understandable thought process I can’t believe I have to explain it. Bucky has always wanted to protect Steve, and he thought the best way to protect Steve — who is a highly respected public figure — is to vanish. He’s the “taint” on Steve’s name, if you will, so he protects Steve from himself. And Steve? If my best friend was held prisoner (for however length of time) and then vanished without telling me they’re okay, I’m never going to stop looking for them wtf. At best Bucky is a suicide risk, at worst he’s been captured by some other bad people and made to work for them. And I understood this when I first watched CACW without even shipping them? 🙄

Hello, hello, long rant incoming

When I reposted this on AO3, I had intentionally minimised tagging and summary because I wanted to archive it rather than attract readers. I didn’t even tag it Steve/Bucky because there just wasn’t enough mention of Bucky in it. Importantly, P*ggy was not tagged.

The user calls themselves “Rebuttal” and their only work is another essay rebutting someone else’s post on Civil War, which they had to post separately because I guess the OP blocked them. So we have a serial offender with too much time on their hands going around to directly suck the joy out of other people’s fandom experience.

They begin with this:

Although I don’t particularly care for Steve’s ending, this essay does not offer support for a different one.

*Inhales* Honey, can you please Google analytical essay and narrative essay before you unload your drivel on other people? This “essay” is a fic - while there’s some character analysis, the emotive language should be sufficient clue that the focus is the story. It’s like reading The Fifth Elephant then writing to Sir Pratchett to argue his “essay on Discworld” is factually incorrect because it offers no support for the idea that the Earth is flat.

Steve is self-sufficient. He is not shown as requiring Bucky as foundational to his being. (…) We do know Steve was willing and expecting to go it alone after Sarah’s death and that he is fully confident in his own abilities; he can “do this all day.” Bucky’s offer at the apartment earns a small smile, not a great overcoming.

I enjoyed how you, at multiple points in your essay, pick at certain turns of (evocative) phrasing while ignoring actual canon mentions. Explain why you deliberately omitted my mention of the canon phrase “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky”. Sure, Sarah was Steve’s touchstone, but Steve’s words clearly indicated that upon Sarah’s death, that touchstone role shifted to Bucky.

Steve’s “I can do this all day” is said a total of 4 times during all the movies. Each time he says it to a bully (one time he specifically says it to protect Bucky), and never in relation to his emotional turmoil. Also just, factually, he never references “I can do this all day” when Sarah dies can you be real for a sec.

It’s mighty rich of you to say a grieving person who had JUST BURIED HIS SOLE LIVING RELATIVE that a) “he is willing to do it alone” - I can guarantee no one who has lost their sole beloved family member feels “willing” in that situation; and b) downplaying the smile that took all of Steve’s energy to muster. All I can conclude is you know nothing of grief. (And since you love the word “disservice” so much - your interpretation of the scene is a fucking disservice to CEvans’ acting.)

Keep reading

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Emma To Bruce

Dear Bruce,

Oh, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. You don’t even know (because you are a diary and you never leave the house). I have spent the day among the mundanes. Not just mundanes. Tourists. All things considered, I’ll take the haunted cursed mansion, thanks.

When last I wrote we found out Ghost!Rupert thinks there’s a cursed object in this Herondale house on Curzon Street here in London. After that we have no idea, which is going to be a big problem because ley lines are, you know, lines, so objects could be anywhere along them. But one thing at a time.

It turns out the National Trust operates tours of the Curzon Street house—and I assume some Herondale in the past was smart enough to get rid of, or at least glamour the heck out of, anything too Shadowhuntery there. It’s advertised as being a recreation of a “typical Edwardian home,” which is close enough to the right time period for our purposes. So we got dressed up in mundane costumes—Jules found an excellent vintage Sex Pistols t-shirt in Arthur and Andrew Blackthorn’s Groovy Chambers of Love —and bought tickets for the 2:00 tour the next day.

What we learned from the house tour is that Edwardian décor mostly would look pretty okay in a modern house! It’s light and airy, lots of soft colors, cool patterned fabric, and so on. Oh, and we also learned the Edwardian movement missed Tatiana Blackthorn entirely, since everything about Blackthorn Hall is the very opposite of light and airy. Julian pointed out that she probably left it the way it was when her father died. Whereas I liked the feel of Curzon Street a lot, it was homey. I actually took a photo of some wallpaper and want to ask Tessa if she remembers who made it and, uh, whether they’re still in business I guess. What’s happened to us? We’re renovating a house. I feel so old.

The tour was fine, I guess, lots of detail about eras and maker’s marks and furniture. People asked ridiculous questions—one of the American couples demanded to know where the piano was and when the guide said sorry, no piano, they got angry and told her that all Edwardian homes had a piano so there must be one, and she had to kind of apologize and move on. It was awkward and I did not feel great about the people of my land.

But mostly I was tuned out of all that. The house was interesting enough. Persian carpets everywhere! An ivory chess set! A pewter-clad bathtub! Oh, there was a framed playbill from the time period that was obviously from some Downworlder nightclub, that was kind of cool. But most importantly, none of these were things enchanted by Tatiana.

I spent most of the time looking for anything that made it clear Shadowhunters lived here. The only thing I really saw was that there were a bunch of weapons used for decoration, which the tour guide noted was not appropriate to the period. Of course you and I know, Bruce, that weapons are always appropriate décor. But it’s like Julian always says, sometimes you don’t even need glamours, because mundanes don’t see what they don’t want to see. Like, the tour guide went on and on about a beautiful jadeite sculpture atop one of the mantels and said nobody knew what the shape was meant to represent. And it was obviously meant to be displaying a sword that is long gone.

Anyway we

Oh, wait.

It’s not long gone. I know where it went. It’s on the dressing table on the other side of the room. I can see it from where I’m writing this.

A real chill just went up my spine, thinking of that. At the house today I was thinking about the people who lived there, James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs, but to be honest I didn’t really feel an emotional connection to them while I was there. Maybe it’s just that all the really personal stuff would have been taken out of the house before it became a museum. But also, just…I didn’t know them. Tessa and Jem did, of course, and Magnus, and heck, maybe some of the other warlocks, I don’t know. But I didn’t, and I never will.

But you know who else knew them? Cortana knew them. I wish I’d brought it with me to the house today. (But nooooo, Julian said only weapons that could be completely concealed. And what if the tour guide had turned out to be an Eidolon demon lying in wait for us? I would have faced it with a bootknife smaller than I’d use to peel an apple with. Though it would have been an Eidolon demon that knew a lot about turn of the century furniture. ANYWAY, we were there to find an object, so let me finish that story.)

We were in one of the spare bedrooms, looking at the scrollwork on the bed or whatever. The tour guide was showing off some of the objects on the bedside tables, and the Sensor went off like crazy.

The tour guide gave us an evil look. “Turn off that phone,” she said to me, and the whole tour group flounced off to another room while I pretended to be trying to find my phone in my extremely ugly waist pack. Jules grabbed the Sensor, and it led us to —  a music-box on the windowsill. A very ugly music box. Well, maybe not ugly. Very overdecorated, just covered in bits and bobs and, like, way too much for a music box. There was a monkey figurine involved. It was a lot. Anyway, it was an excellent example of the mid-Victorian etc etc but also it was an object Tatiana cursed and, I guess, someone liked it enough to find it and bring it back here???

After that it was just a matter of waiting till the tour moved on, glamouring up, grabbing the music box, sneaking back out of there, and hoping nobody who worked there had the Sight. Which they didn’t. So now we have a music box to show Rupert in the morning and ask Tessa about. I hope it wasn’t hers or anything like that. I think of her as having better taste.

Okay, that’s it for now, Bruce. I’m going to go get Cortana so I can reach out and touch it from the bed. Julian always teases me when I do that but tonight it feels right. Catch you later.

Emma

[maccreadysbaby]

Male Companions React: Deacon Only Edition

(TW: NONE)

Request: female sole survivor comes back after finding out Shaun is the leader of the institute and is a mess and deacon comforts them. Charmer nickname please

Deacon tapped the toe of his boot against the dirt for the 571st time. Not that he’d been counting or anything.

Sole told him to go back to HQ, that she would show up there when she got back from the Institute. It had been a few hours since she blipped away on Tinker Tom’s machine, and ever since then, Deacon couldn’t focus. Sole was the only person that really knew him. They had to be okay. They would be, right?

Desdemona sent him a warning glare from across the room. “Stop tapping your foot. Inside missions like this take time, you of all people know that.”

Deacon didn’t respond, he only shook his head. If only she knew what Sole had done for him… brought back parts of himself he didn’t even know were missing. All those pieces he’d left behind when Barbara died, locked up tight in a safe with no key… Sole had jimmied it open with only a few carefully placed words and one of their stupid little Bobby pins. Deacon wasn’t dumb. He was a spy, he was supposed to play mind games with people, not fall victim to them. But Sole… she was different. She weaseled her way into his mind in all the right ways, unlocking doors he didn’t know were closed, reviving parts of him he didn’t know he had. Everything he thought he lost… it was all right there. Inside of her.

And she was stuck in the Institute with no real way out.

“Charmer is a top agent. She’ll be fine,” Desdemona sighed, lighting up a cigarette.

Deacon was trying to come up with a witty response when a shrill zapping noise and a bright light emanated from the staircase of the HQ.

He nearly bounced out of his chair as he shot toward the same light that had shone when his best friend left in the machine. Through his sunglasses, he saw Charmer ease her way down the stairs, quickly meeting her at the bottom.

“Drummer boy owes me 100 caps, he’s going to be so…” Deacon paused when he noticed the expression on his partner’s face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was trying her best not to look him in the eye.

He stepped forward, his hand finding its way to rest on her arm. “What’s going on, Charmer?”

She covered her face with her hands, took in a sharp breath, and walked straight forward until she collided with him. She started muttering things Deacon couldn’t decipher through… was she crying?

The spy immediately wrapped his arms around her, placing one of his hands on the back of her head, the other around her shoulders. It broke his heart to hear her quietly sobbing against him.

“I’ve gotcha. I’ve gotcha,” He whispered quietly, moving in such a way that Sole would be shielded from any wandering eyes. “It’s just me.”

He adjusted his hands, softly stroking the hair on the back of her head. It was something he used to do for Barbara. What had happened in the Institute to tear up this brave, bold soldier that Sole had become? Their son wasn’t dead, was he?

“It… It w-was him… he… Shaun… he… was, he-he was… and I… couldn’t…”

“Shh, Charmer. Take it easy,” He muttered, rubbing her back gently with the other hand. “You’re back now.”

He felt Sole’s arms snake around his torso. “Don’t let me go anywhere… anywhere without you again, Deacon. Please...”

His heart was sinking at the same time it fluttered, which was a really odd feeling to have.

“I’m not going anywhere, boss,”

Sole tightened her arms around him, and he relaxed, allowing the tension in his body to finally release. He pulled her closer and his head instinctually found its way onto her shoulder. Funny how they fit with each other just perfectly. Everything about them. Their personalities, their hands, their bodies when they hugged.

Deacon cursed himself for thinking that maybe Barbara never had the key. Maybe the door was never open, never touched…

Because Sole was the key.

And as he relaxed into Sole’s arms at the front door of HQ, after years of searching for where he belonged, Deacon finally knew that that’s where he was supposed to be.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

-------

"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

[schrijverr]

Cutting Words

A comment made by Rachel sends Mike spiraling, until Harvey finds him sobbing in the file room. He comforts him and promises that he’s not going anywhere and Mike is going to be fine, letting his human side show as he holds his associate while he cries.

@ the anon who requested it, I tried, sorry that it's a bit short <3

On AO3

Ships: none

Warning: unintentional hurtful words & minor self loathing

~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel is smart and funny, she takes no shit and Mike likes sparring with her verbally whenever he is in her office. He knows that if he tries, he could love her, but he doesn’t because she told him she doesn’t date in the office.

In short, Mike likes Rachel. She is his friend and he values that friendship.

However, he cannot deny that Rachel has her blind spots and sharp edges. It’s human to have those, everyone does. Mike probably does things he doesn’t think about that can hurt, because he is as human as she is. But that doesn’t mean that is doesn’t hurt when those edges cut him.

He’s in her office being annoying when it happens. She’s trying to look something up and he is messing with her stuff when she groans: “Can you quit that, Mike. Some of us have an actual job that they worked for.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike asks, the quip not really hurting but striking him as oddly mean.

“I’m just saying that not everyone just stumbled into an interview and cruised on,” Rachel says annoyed. “I work hard, you should try it sometime.”

“Are you for real?” The confused grin drops. “I worked my ass off to be here and I take my job seriously.”

“Really?” she looks up from her work, raising a brow at him. “I’m sorry Mike, you might be smart, but you don’t know what it’s like to work for anything. You’re a spoiled associate like the rest of them and your little hardships don’t make you a tragic character or something.”

Speechless Mike stares at her, trying to remember if she knows he’s an orphan, if she knows all the dirty jobs he’s had to do, all the unpaid bills, the months he spend couch surfing. But the emotion makes it difficult.

“Don’t give me that look,” Rachel tells him, not amused at his gaping. “I’m tired of everyone trying to make themselves out to be this wronged person. All you do is fuck around and go on little excursions with Harvey, leaving people like me to do the actual work and then you have the nerve to pretend you have had it hard. Get over yourself.”

“I…” Mike doesn’t even know what he wanted to say. Memories flashing in front of his eyes, making tears burn in them, but he can’t make a sound and doesn’t allow himself to cry, that would only give Rachel something new to go off about.

“Just leave me to work, Mike,” Rachel says, not even unkind. She has no clue about all the buttons she just accidentally pushed.

“Y- yeah, okay,” Mike nods, feeling as if he’s not fully there when he stumbles away from her office.

His mind is reeling. He usually pushes all the bad away, but with his memory he remembers each terrible moment vividly and they’re unexpectedly pulled to the front of his mind, overwhelming him.

He sees his father’s heartbroken look when he yelled at him the evening he died. He recalls his mother in her casket, the makeup not fully covering the way her face had been stitched together. He watches Grammy sobbing on her own in a chair, thinking he isn’t there.

A pile of unpaid bills.

An eviction notice.

The police at the door. Grammy crumbling.

Shivering without a coat.

His mom’s hand like a forgotten phantom.

Hunger pangs.

Loneliness.

It’s all too much and he knows he can’t go back to the cube farm, nor Rachel’s office where he often hides. His other favorite hiding spot comes to mind and he lets his feet guide him to the file room, curling up in a far corner, willing himself to disappear or at least stop crying.

But he can’t stop. He knows it’s his own fault for bottling it all up, so that when he burst it would be spectacularly and the control would be out of his hands. Yet, he hates it.

He attempts to at least stifle the sobs, thanking whatever deity is out there that no one is walking in, because he doesn’t think he can be silent enough not to be noticed.

If he’s honest, he never thought much about the crappy situations he has ended up throughout his life, but with his mind playing a reel of his lowest moments it feels inescapable. Will he always be stuck like this? All the good memories end with something shit.

His parents’ love. Their funeral.

Grammy’s care. Her yelling in a confused daze.

College. Getting kicked out to the streets.

Trevor’s friendship. The betrayal.

Jenny’s affection. Her picking Trevor’s side every time and leaving him.

Working at Pearson Hardman, having Harvey, Donna. Rachel, even. It has been the best he’s had in years and now all he can think about all the ways it can end. All the ways this can go terribly wrong. All the ways he can get left behind.

He huddles into himself and attempts to convince himself that this won’t be like that. That it will be different this time. But it’s easier said than done, especially since Mike is intimately aware of all the risks he’s taking by being there.

If he were less selfish, he’d quit. Hand is resignation and walk away before he can drag the people who have given him so much down with him. But he is selfish and he can’t bring himself to walk away. Not from the best thing that has happened to him.

A sniffle escapes him again and tears continue to flow. He tries to take deep breaths, but all the horrible feelings are crushing his chest. He hugs his knees tightly, hoping the pressure with prevent him from exploding, the feeling of being on the edge of bursting in every movement.

He is so focused on grounding himself that he doesn’t hear the door opening, only a voice trailing off: “You know slacking off is less easy if people know where you …hide.” A silence. “Oh, uh, fuck. Mike, are- are you okay?”

Mike looks up, failing to blink away the tears, so roughly wiping them with his sleeves. Harvey is luckily alone, looking like the most uncomfortable person on planet earth, his hands half stretched out as if he wanted to reach out and touch Mike, but thought better of it.

God, I must look pathetic, Mike thinks, the tears that were just slowing welling up again as he chokes on a sob, loosing it again without his permission.

“No, no, don’t,” Harvey hushes, coming closer. He hesitates for a moment, then lays a hand on Mike’s shoulder and says: “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay. Don’t cry.”

“Sorry,” Mike whimpers. He also doesn’t want him to be crying, but he can’t stop.

Harvey cringes: “No need for sorry. My bad. Just- What happened? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Mike shakes his head. Rachel doesn’t even know that she triggered this. He is just being stupid about it. However, the protective words curl around him and he burrows in them. At the moment, he feels horrible about being a potential anchor for Harvey, but moments like these show that the other cares and right now he needs the reassurance that Harvey won’t disappear like so many have already done.

“I- I should get Donna. She is better at this,” Harvey’s voice breaks through his thoughts. Without thinking his hand snaps out, holding Harvey’s sleeve.

“Don’t leave me,” he quietly asks. “Please,” he adds in a hoarse whisper.

He doesn’t dare to look up, so he can’t see Harvey’s expression as he waits on his reaction in that terrible limbo.

It’s just seconds.

It feels like eons.

“Alright, I won’t,” Harvey softly says. “Promise.”

The promise lifts something in Mike. He knows promises can be broken and the words are likely nothing more than saying whatever is needed to get him to calm down, but right now Mike is beyond caring. Harvey doesn’t break promises, he is a man of his word and right now he promised to stay.

Harvey lays a hand over Mike’s, gently prying them loose so that he can sit next to Mike on the dirty ground of the file room. He slings an arm over Mike’s shoulder and pulls him close.

Not letting a moment pass, Mike burrows his face into Harvey’s side. At this point he has accepted that he looks pitiful and has allowed his emotions to take the reigns for once and his emotions demand a hug. A hug, Harvey seems willing to give.

“I’m here,” Harvey shushes him, burrowing his free hand in Mike’s hair while the other rubs soothing circles on his back.

And so they sit for what could be hours, but is likely just 30 minutes. In that time, Mike ruins a very expensive suit jacket with his tears. On some level he is impressed with how long he can cry for, even if the sobs morph into soft weeping, the tears leaving his eyes more because he’s too tired to stop than because he is still actively crying.

Throughout it all, Harvey doesn’t complain or make any sort of indication he would rather be elsewhere. He whispers comforts to Mike that are repetitive and basic, but the fact that he makes an attempt is worth more than gold to Mike.

When he notices Mike is at the end of his rope enough that he can speak through the tears does he ask: “Wanna tell me what set you off like this?”

Mike wants to shake his head no, doesn’t want to tell Harvey about the fears and memories that haunted him. Doesn’t want to tell him about words said in ignorance that send him off the deep end until he was crying like a baby.

But Harvey also sounds concerned and his voice is filled with care and a bit of fear, like he is terrified something is wrong with Mike. And after all the comfort he has given Mike, he deserves some peace of mind as well.

“It’s stupid,” he says despite those thoughts, wanting to preemptively defend himself.

“If it made you cry like that, I doubt it,” Harvey tells him. “If I promise not to go off on whoever said or did something that made you cry, will you tell me?”

Mike nods, still not meeting Harvey’s eye, but snort softly when a pinky appears in his sight. He finally looks up to see Harvey grinning softly, raising a brow as he wiggles his pinky. “Come on, I have a promise to make.”

“Thank you,” Mike whispers, interlocking their pinkies.

“Good,” Harvey nods. “You ready to talk now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Mike says. “I fucking around in Rachel’s office and I guess she got annoyed. She- she said: ‘you might be smart, but you don’t know what it’s like to work for anything. You’re a spoiled associate like the rest of them and your little hardships don’t make you a tragic character or something’ and I guess it just, I don’t know, reminded me off all the things she doesn’t know. All the crap I had to deal with. The fact that I- I might loose this too.”

The last part is whispered. He almost doesn’t dare to speak it into the world, afraid that saying it will make it real.

While he rambled, Harvey listened intently, now he speaks: “Why do you think you’re going to loose this? Mike you’re the smartest person I know and you more than deserve to be here.”

For a moment, Mike gapes helplessly, trying to put his thoughts into words. “I- I know that I work hard, but we both know how I got here. Me being here is a risk and if anyone ever finds out, it’s not just me that goes under. It’ll be you, Donna, Jessica, Rachel. And then you all hate me and it’ll just be like all the other stuff that happened in my life.”

“What does that mean?” Harvey asks, sounding confused.

“Think about it,” Mike says, word-vomiting at this point. “My parents died, my grandma got dementia, Trevor betrayed me, Jenny left. I got kicked out of college, I’ve been evicted from too many apartments, I had times where my unpaid bills stack was bigger than my paychecks. Nothing good lasts for me. Why should be different?”

His voice cracks at the end and Harvey hugs him again with a pained: “Oh, Mike…”

“I ruin things,” he whispers, burrowing his face into Harvey’s side again.

“You don’t ruin things, Mike,” Harvey assures him. “You just had the worst luck and you didn’t deserve that, but you’re working hard and you have more than earned the good things you have now. And no matter what happens, I won’t hate you and I won’t just walk away. I’m giving you my word on that.”

Speechless, Mike looks at Harvey. Then a small smile breaks out on his face. He knows how serious Harvey takes his word and this time it’s not like he is sobbing. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Harvey smiles back.

“What, will I tarnish your reputation?” Mike asks, the smile morphing into a cheeky grin. “Can’t you have anyone knowing that the great Harvey Specter cares?”

“Shut up,” Harvey pushes him off with a hair ruffle. But it’s fond and Mike knows that Harvey is trying to say that yeah he cares, so Mike just grins more, before finally getting up from the ground, tugging Harvey up as well.

“I’m going to wash my face, I feel gross,” he says.

“You look gross,” Harvey tells him.

“Rude!”

“Just helping you be presentable,” Harvey shrugs with a smirk. “The files from Lemmin Inc. came in, by the way. I was looking you for that. They’re trying to bury us in paperwork. Up to forget your troubles with bureaucracy?”

“You know me so well.”

~~

A/N:

I’m always so conflicted about Rachel, because on one hand the hate she gets sometimes seems like the typical she is a ‘black female character in media’-hate and people can’t handle the fact that she isn’t always perfect. But the fact that she does have money privilege and has flaws makes her interesting to me and I do want to explore that sometime, so… :/ Thoughts?

Also I keep saying I don’t have time and then just binge-writing these requests lmao, I think I’m setting false expectations like this, but I happened to have a break rn lol, this took me hours