#I’m so sorry you have to go through this pain
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The arrival of Amara.
Part four of this series.
context the birth of you and Ambessa baby.
Life had settled into a quiet rhythm though it was clear you were both waiting for the storm of change to come. Ambessa was careful in her preparations overseeing every detail of the nursery and ensuring the household was ready for the arrival of your daughter.
Now on an otherwise calm morning “The storm”had arrived.
It started with a strange heaviness in your body one that made walking the length of the garden feel more like a journey across Noxus itself. Ambessa walked beside you her hand firmly on the small of your back. Her touch was a reassuring constant though her watchful gaze told you she was already on high alert.
“You’re slowing down love” she said gently leaning down slightly so her voice was close to your ear. “Do you need to sit?”
You shook your head though your legs wobbled slightly under you. “I’m okay. Just… tired. My back feels different today.”
Ambessa’s brow furrowed her lips pressing into a thin line. “Different how?”
“Like… more pressure. And it keeps coming and going.”
Her hand shifted to your side her strong fingers pressing gently against the muscles there. “Let’s go back to the house. I’d rather not take any chances.”
Though you wanted to protest a particularly sharp twinge made you nod in agreement. As you walked Ambessa kept her hand on your back her steady presence helping you through each step.
By the time you reached the grand hall the discomfort had turned into something more intense. You paused mid-step clutching a nearby chair as a wave of pain gripped you.
Ambessa was at your side instantly her large hands encircling your waist. “What’s happening? Talk to me.”
You winced breathing through the pain. “It’s… sharper now. Like something’s about to—”
Before you could finish a sudden warmth spread down your legs. You gasped your eyes wide as you looked down.
Ambessa followed your gaze her golden eyes widening slightly. “Your water just broke” she said her voice steady but tinged with urgency.
A mix of panic and excitement filled you. “What do we do? Ambessa—”
She cupped your face her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “We breathe and we move. I’ve got you love. You’re not alone in this.”
The bathing chamber was already prepared when you arrived thanks to the servants and midwives who worked quickly to ready the space. The warm water steamed invitingly the room dimly lit by candles.
Ambessa helped you undress her hands careful and deliberate as she removed each layer of clothing. “You’re safe” she murmured her voice low and soothing. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Once in the water the warmth helped ease some of the pain though the contractions continued to intensify. Ambessa sat at the edge of the pool her hand resting on your shoulder as you leaned against the side.
“You’re doing beautifully” she said her voice soft but firm.
You shot her a look your breath hitching as another contraction hit. “It doesn’t feel beautiful” you muttered through gritted teeth.
Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “It doesn’t have to feel beautiful to be beautiful.”
Hours passed the labor progressing slowly. Ambessa was a constant presence her deep voice guiding you through each contraction. When the pain became overwhelming she climbed into the water behind you her strong arms wrapping around your middle.
“Lean on me” she said pressing a kiss to your temple. “Feel my breath and match it.”
When the next contraction came you tried to follow her lead but the pain made you snap. “I am breathing Ambessa!” you shouted your voice cracking. “Can’t you tell?!”
For a moment the room went silent the weight of your outburst hanging in the air. Then Ambessa’s arms tightened around you her voice softening. “I know love. I know. You’re doing everything right. I’m sorry I just want to help.”
Your chest heaved with a mix of exhaustion and guilt. Turning your head slightly you whispered “I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean—”
She pressed her lips to your hair silencing you. “No apologies. You’re in the fight of your life right now and I’m honored to be here with you.”
When the midwives announced it was time to push Ambessa moved to hold one of your legs her large hand steadying you as you bore down.
“You’re almost there” she said her voice firm yet filled with emotion. “Just one more push love. You’ve got this.”
With a final desperate effort you felt the release as your daughter entered the world. The midwife lifted her from the water her strong cries echoing through the chamber.
Ambessa’s face transformed her usual stern look was replaced by raw emotion. Tears welled in her golden eyes as she stared at the tiny life you had brought into the world.
“She’s here” you whispered your voice trembling as the midwife placed the baby on your chest.
Ambessa kissed you on the head and smiled as she reached out a trembling hand to touch Amara’s tiny fingers. “She’s… incredible” she murmured her voice thick with emotion.
You looked up at her tears streaming down your face. “She looks like you.”
Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a finger over Amara’s cheek. “She’s perfect. Just like her mother.”
Later after being cleaned and dressed you lay in bed with Amara nestled between you and Ambessa. The room was quiet the soft glow of the fire casting shadows on the walls.
“She’s so long” you said marveling at her tiny form.
Ambessa smirked her hand gently tracing one of Amara’s legs. “She takes after me” she said proudly.
You laughed softly leaning into her side. “She’s going to grow up tall and strong just like her mama.”
Ambessa pressed a kiss to your forehead then to Amara’s. “She’ll have the best of both of us” she said quietly.
As the three of you lay there wrapped in warmth and love Ambessa whispered “Thank you my love. For her. For this. For everything.”
Tears filled your eyes as you rested your head against her shoulder. “We did this together” you said softly.
And as the first light of dawn filled the room you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be with the two people who made your world complete.
AN/ omgggg I hope you all enjoyed it the story and yes I will be continuing the series I feel like this is such a good series so I will keep making different stories that go along with this storyline while also making stories with no storyline so yay 🎀
And I hope y’all like the name I picked out for her as well
#arcane#ambessa league of legends#ambessa medarda#ambessa x reader#arcane ambessa#arcane x reader#arcane x you#ambessa x you#mel and ambessa#ambessa the chosen of the wolf
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Such A Mystery - Part 9
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.
It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.
It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.
His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.
The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.
"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."
Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.
Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.
If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.
Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
"No. You?" he gave back.
"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”
Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned.
Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.
Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.
"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.
Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.
Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.
"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."
That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.
"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."
There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.
"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."
"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.
That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”
His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.
Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.
He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.
Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...
Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.
Then he called her.
It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.
Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.
"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.
A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.
His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?
“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?
"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.
The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”
"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.
"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"
"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.
"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"
"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."
"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.
"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."
Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”
"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.
“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”
There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”
He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.
Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.
He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.
"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.
"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."
"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.
"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.
"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.
But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."
"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."
"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."
"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.
"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.”
He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.
The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.
"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely.
"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."
That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.
"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."
“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."
"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.
“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything, he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."
"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.
"Go. Love you," she told him.
"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"
"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"
"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."
He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her
Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.
He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.
Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced.
Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.
The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…
And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.
He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.
It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.
"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."
"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.
"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."
"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.
“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”
Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?
If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.
Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.
Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago.
Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other.
"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?
"Why...? What did they do?"
"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"
Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.
"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."
"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "
"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."
"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."
Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.
"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.
"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.
"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"
"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."
There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"
"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."
"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."
"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.
"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."
"It still can come from you," Charles said.
Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.
"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."
Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.
But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.
"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.
The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.
"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"
He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.
He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.
He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.
"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"
"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married.
Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit. "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."
"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.
Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."
Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.
Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."
"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.
Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.
But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.
"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."
Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.
But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.
"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."
Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.
Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fanfiction
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | FIVE
a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©
SUMMARY: finding you when he thought all hope was lost, rafe decides that this is the last time you two will ever be separated.. til’ death do you part.
WARNINGS: lots of emotions lol, crying, angst, description of unprotected sex, fluff
LINKS: series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
“how did you find me?” you’re pulling rafe inside by his shirt, his hands finding your hips as he stared at you incredulously. he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. he didn’t answer, instead he took your face in his hands, tears brimming his eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. “please never do that again.” you felt your heart break when his voice came out shaky, your own tears already rolling down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry—” rafe shut the door, clicking the lock shut before sitting you down on the motel bed.
“i got your note,” rafe made sure to keep your hand in his as he spoke, “i know that you left because you felt like you were doing the right thing.” he laughed bitterly, flashbacks of the look on his dad’s face when he saw that you didn’t take the money ran through his mind. “but i need you to know something else..” your heart was beating out of your chest, a million words sitting on the tip of your tongue. there was so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to start.
“doing the ‘right thing’ would never result in us being away from each other. you sacrificed everything and left behind everything you’ve ever known for me, so i made my own sacrifices too.” just as you were going to question what he meant, he held up his hand, the gold ring that he once wore with the utmost pride was now gone. your eyes widened, your lips parting as you shook your head. “oh, rafe..” inspecting his fingers, you couldn’t help but run your digits over his palm, “what did you do? what did i do?”
regret pooled in your stomach. the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened. “hey, look at me— you didn’t do a damn thing, alright? my dad didn’t take anything from me, i left it. the same way you walked away from everything, so did i.” your head shot up at his words. “you left it? the business, your family ring, everything?” rafe watched as the corner of your eyes became wet with tears, your chin wobbling slightly. “y/n,” he stroked the side of your face, “everything means absolutely nothing if i don’t have you by my side.” you swore you could’ve died right there.
rafe embraced you as you let out a sob, your hands clinging onto him as if he’d disappear from your grasp. “i’m so sorry i left!” you cried out into his chest, “i’ll never leave you again, i swear it!” your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your heart finally feeling full again. rafe shushed you, rubbing your back soothingly as you two cried in each other’s embrace. rafe knew it was now or never. everything that you two have been through— all the tears, all the scrutiny and pain, trials and tribulations, all the laughs, the sweet moments, the whispering of words in the dark, all of it was meant to lead up to this very moment.
rafe pulled away, taking both of your hands in his as he moved down to the floor— on one knee. sniffling, you watched with a confused gaze as rafe reached into his pocket. “i bought this ring the morning i first left your camper,” your eyes widened as he pulled out a small box, “you left one of your rings on the bathroom sink and i took it with me to get an accurate size on this one,” he laughed, “i thought i was crazy when i was there buying it from the jeweler, but it all makes sense now.” a small gasp left your lips when he opened the box, revealing a dainty diamond ring. “rafe..” your voice was barely above a whisper.
“marry me.”
his words cut through the air, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” a hint of a smile played on your lips as his eyes got lost in your own. “marry me,” he repeated, “you fulfilled wedding vows since the very beginning. ‘for better, for worse.’ you and me made decisions, we let go of things despite how painful it was, we did it for each other,” rafe swallowed thickly. ‘for richer, for poorer.’ you never cared about how much money i had, you welcomed me into your camper and we made the best of it,” he rose his eyebrows suggestively, making a giggle fall from your lips at the memories of you two getting tangled in your bed.
tightening your grip on his hand, your smile faded when he broke down, his shoulders shaking slightly as his head hung in complete surrender. “you didn’t give up on me when you had every reason to. ‘in sickness and in health.’ you stuck by me when i was at the height of my addiction, and i could never thank you enough for never losing faith in me. i yelled at you, i talked to you harshly— fuck, i hate myself for that. i was in the worst shape i had ever been in, and you still looked at me as if i hung the stars up for you. you loved me at my worst, and brought me back up to be my best.” now you were crying too, small hiccups emitting from your throat.
“y/n, will you please do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?” rafe glanced up at you, the expression on your face unreadable. “of course i will.” that was all rafe needed before he slid the beautiful ring on your finger, both of you pulling each other into a searing kiss. with his lips still connected to yours, rafe took a seat on the bed, pulling you on top of his lap effortlessly. you two stayed like this until the tears on your cheeks dried, both of you growing needy for something more than just rushed kisses and lingering touches.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips, “i never want to be away from you ever again.” rafe’s eyes were now clouded with something else other than tears— lust. “stop saying sorry. nothing else matters right now.” rafe’s fingers slipped underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. groaning at the taste of your skin, you gasped when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. being apart from one another was one thing, but not being able to hold, love, or touch each other was completely different.
“i’ve been staying at your camper for this past week, you wanna know why?” you moaned softly as he took your top off, humming a small ‘why?’ before you tugged at his shirt. “because it smells like you. the sheets, your pillows, everything, it all smelled like you and i needed to feel you close somehow.” you pulled away at the revelation, your hands coming up to cup cheeks. “please let me make it up to you..” your voice was so sweet, but the indication of your words was even sweeter. “oh, you will.” rafe nodded to himself, his hand coming up to unclasp your bra.
rafe laid you down and worshipped your body as if it was your first time together all over’s again. not a single inch of your body went untouched, the man above you whispering praises again your skin. you two laughed, cried, kissed, and hugged all while he rocked inside of you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he continuously placed kisses to your knuckles. he was gentle, yet so precise with his movements, you were easily gasping his name in no time. never looking away from each other once, you held eye contact while he spilled into you, his lips molding to yours as if they were made just for you.
“i love you.” you smiled softly as his breath fanned against your cheek. pulling him flush against your chest, you wrapped your legs around his waist in order to keep him between your thighs. “i love you, too.” rafe rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, his large palms rubbing soft circles into your skin. you two stayed like this until he pecked the corner of your lips, rolling to your side before taking you in his arms. with your back to him, both of you admired your ring as if you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “rafe?” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips when he hummed.
“i can’t believe it..” rafe trailed kisses along the back of your shoulder, his hand holding up your own. “i can,” he started, “i knew this day was going to come, i just wish i did it sooner.” you turned around in his embrace, running your index finger along his jaw. “you never answered my question earlier.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “what? how i found you?” nodding, you let your eyes trail over his features as he explained himself. “well i searched the whole island, and when people told me they hadn’t see you anywhere i figured that meant you left it altogether.”
your eyes widened at his words. “you looked for me all this time?” you already felt bad for leaving in the first place, but now you felt even worse. “of course i did. i went to the icecream parlor and asked around for you there, and then i went to the country club, but everyone just kept saying the same thing.” you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “i looked up the closest motel and this place showed up, so now i’m here.” rafe was unbelievable. “i need to get you a wedding band!” you gasped, the realization dawning on you once you stroked his empty fingers.
“i already got one. it’s at the camper.” you stared at him blankly. “rafe cameron.” he smiled when you said his full name, finding amusement in the way your voice sounded serious all of a sudden. “i mean it when i say i thought everything through already,” he kissed you, “i never really understood what people said, but now i get it.” smiling against his lips, you looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you mean? what did they say?” rafe cradled your head, those blue eyes of his dripping pure adoration for you as he spoke.
“when you know, you know.”
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can you write josh and reader being absolute freaks? freaks as in they love consensual non con😭😭
i was thinking of josh being a creep and stalking reader (and yes reader knows, she just pretends not to) and it ends with them having rough sex.
please it is totally fine if you are not comfortable with the whole idea ☺️🙏🏼, i will still read whatever u come up with!
genuinely didn't know if i wanted to write this in headcanon format or not so i’m sorry if it seems like its constantly switching up 😭 regardless though, i hope you enjoy!!
(warnings): nsfw, reader has female anatomy, cnc, fear play, knife play(?), stalking, physical aggression, reader is wearing a skirt, josh is creepy and mean asf, power imbalance, choking/gagging
when josh brought you to his parents’ secluded mountain for a weekend, you knew he was being absolutely serious when he told you to be prepared. you already knew the rules, because everything had already been discussed. he gave you the loose script and you both set up clear boundaries… but he didn’t tell you everything, obviously.. because where’s the fun in that?
he only tells you that he won’t go easy on you, and to be prepared.
so that’s what you were doing — cautiously walking through the secluded area in the woods, footsteps light and reluctant. josh didn’t tell you where he’d be, he wanted your reactions to be completely authentic when he popped out. the only knowledge of his presence was the red graffiti on an abandoned wooden sign that read: i’m watching you.
that was all you were getting from him. you were excited, but you couldn’t show how much you were enjoying it. you had to play your role perfectly.
josh was careful to stay out of sight, but he made sure that you could hear every occasional faint crunch of a leaf beneath his boots. the sounds weren’t loud, but it was purposeful and enough to make you feel on edge, and that’s exactly what he wanted.
he creepily watched you behind a tree, his eyes perversely travelling down to your legs and the way your short skirt swayed as you timidly wandered further through the trail ahead, and he couldn’t help but get slightly impatient with his own game. he was softly palming himself through his jeans, thinking about how easy it could’ve been for him to sneak up behind you in that moment and take you right against a tree, but he wanted to wait a little longer. he was so eager to already have his way with you.
your small and trembling voice and the way you clutched your hands up to your chest as you called his name was all josh needed to hear before he’s giving you the signal to run; the loud snap of a branch, that at first, caught you off guard, before you remembered that he was in fact starting to chase you.
you’re bolting through the woods, heart pounding so hard as you hear him right behind you. and when you turn around to see how far you are from josh, you trip over a rock.. or a branch… or maybe your own feet. you weren’t sure because that was the least of your worries.
you were in so much pain from the tiny pieces of gravel and sticks digging into your skin, but you’re barely able to process it because josh was right behind you, towering over your disheveled figure.
you’re so quick to try and scramble to your feet, panicked huffs coming from the depths of your chest, but it’s too late. he’s already kneeling down behind you, pinning your front to the ground and holding your arms behind your back so you couldn’t fight him — as if you really even could… or wanted to.
“oh man… you’re in for it now, sweetheart.”
josh thought you looked so pretty when you were all panicked and out of breath and completely vulnerable for him. his cock was already twitching in his pants at the sight of you, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in protest.
“get off of me..!” you shakily cried out, though your words lacked the firmness that you intended. truthfully, you were so turned on, your panties soaking wet from how roughly josh was handling you in the dirt.
“relax, hon. it’ll be quick.” he shushes you, holding a firm hand on the small of your back to hold you in place as he pulled out a heavy-duty pocket knife with his other one.
he teases you so much, loving the way your body stiffened when he dragged the blade up the back of your thigh, flipping your skirt up and trailing it over the curve of your ass, softly pressing the sharp tip into your skin. it was enough to make you frantically gasp out, making you believe that he was actually gonna cut you. and he’s laughing softly to himself, enjoying how helpless you were.
he removed the knife from your skin, cutting your panties open so he’s got full access to you.. and to his surprise, you're already extremely wet.
josh was so impressed with you. he thought you looked so cute trembling and protesting out to him, even though the wetness between your legs told a different story. and of course he points it out, because he liked seeing you embarrassed and flustered.
“you sure you want me to stop, baby? looks like you’re enjoying yourself..” he teased you as he unbuckled his pants, pulling them down low enough to free his already hard and leaking cock.
once he's positioned properly behind you, he's lining himself up to your entrance, gathering a wad of spit in his mouth before letting it dribble between your cheeks and down your hole.. not that you needed it anyway.
when josh gets ready to fuck you, he’s so mean. he barely gives you time to adjust before he’s already plowing inside of you. his cock is buried so deep, hips slamming forward, balls slapping against your puffy clit while your pussy made the filthiest, squelching noises.
josh didn’t even care about the uncomfortable position you were in either; back arched wildly, ass in the air, one of his hands pressing the side of your face into the dirty ground, while the other held your hip firmly so he’s able to steadily pound into you. he didn’t care about all of your whining about how badly your knees dug into the hard ground to the point where you were sure to have cuts and bruises after. he didn't care because if you really wanted to, you could’ve said your safe word.
“mmh, it hurts? then say the word, baby.”
he’s huffing and groaning, getting off at the sight of you struggling; watching the way tears were starting to clump up in your pretty lashes from the pain, how you struggled to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head after each thrust, or the way you tried to form a coherent sentence, constantly alternating between whether you wanted him to ‘slow down’ or ‘don’t stop.’ and josh really wanted to tease you, but he’s so distracted by the way your pussy spasmed and squeezed tightly around his cock.
“mmph, fuck.. josh!” you whined out, ready to give him another vague and slurred command again, but he’s instantly shushing you, removing his hand from the side of your face, to roughly shove his fingers in your mouth until their hitting the back of your throat.
“you can take it, honey. you wanted this, right? hm?”
you didn't need to say anything out loud for josh to know that this was exactly what you wanted. your eyes were rolling, saliva trickling down his hand as you sucked and gagged around his fingers, desperately pushing your hips back to meet his hard thrusts. he’s so obsessed with the way your ass hits his lower abdomen with every backward push of your hips. “f-fuck, yeah.. that’s it...”
your thighs were trembling as you got closer to your orgasm and josh noticed it immediately. he pulls his fingers from your mouth, wrapping his arm around your front to move it in between your legs, his saliva-coated fingers immediately finding your clit. he circled over the swollen bud, applying enough pressure to where you’re gasping out strangled moans of “yeah yeah yeah..!”
“c’mon, honey,” he urges, lightly tapping his fingers on your clit to see you jolt and gasp out some more. “i know you wanna cum.”
he’s groaning and clenching his jaw to suppress the growing moans in his throat as he watches you shake and cry and cream all over his cock, and it only makes him start to fuck you harder. “ffuck, yes- take it sweetheart. take every fucking inch.”
#until dawn josh#josh washington#josh washington smut#until dawn smut#josh washington x reader#until dawn x reader#rami malek x reader#joshua washington#until dawn headcanons
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Not the same | George Clarke
Angst.
Since George's social media had grown you never had time for eachother, his demeanour changed and he just wasn't the same George you met that night in Soho. Creating an ultimatum.
The words hung between us like a fragile thread, threatening to snap.
“I love you,” I said softly, my voice breaking as the tears welled up in my eyes. “But you’re not the person I fell in love with.”
George’s face was a mixture of confusion and pain, his brows furrowing as he tried to process my words. He looked like he wanted to say something, to argue or deny it, but instead, he just stood there, silent.
We were in the living room of the apartment we’d once made ours—a place filled with memories of quiet mornings, shared laughter, and whispered confessions. Now, it felt like a shell, the echoes of those moments haunting us like ghosts.
“What…what does that mean?” he finally asked, his voice hoarse.
I wiped my eyes, trying to steady myself. “It means…we’ve changed. You’ve changed. And maybe I have, too.”
His jaw clenched. “So, what? You’re just giving up on us?”
“No,” I said quickly, almost pleading. “I’m not giving up. I’ve been holding on, George. For so long, I’ve been holding on, hoping things would go back to the way they were. But they haven’t. And I don’t think they will.”
He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for mine. “We can fix this,” he said, his tone desperate. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. Just tell me what you need.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that we could patch up the cracks, that the pieces of us would fit back together. But deep down, I knew the truth.
“It’s not something you can fix,” I whispered. “You’re not the same person you were when we met. And…I don’t know if I am, either.”
George let go of my hands, stepping back as if my words had physically pushed him. “So that’s it?” he said bitterly. “I’m not ‘good enough’ for you anymore?”
“No, that’s not it!” I said, my voice rising. “This isn’t about being ‘good enough.’ It’s about us. About how we’ve grown into people who don’t…fit anymore.”
His eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, I saw the person he’d become—the one who snapped more often, who shut me out when I tried to reach him, who had let the weight of the world crush the lightness we once shared.
But beneath the anger was something deeper: heartbreak.
“You don’t even see it, do you?” he said quietly. “How hard I’ve been trying? How much I’ve been fighting to keep us together?”
My chest tightened. “I see it,” I said. “And I’ve been trying, too. But love isn’t enough if we’re not the same people who built this relationship in the first place.”
Silence settled over us, heavy and suffocating.
George ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted. “I love you. I’ll always love you. But if you’re telling me I’m not the man you fell in love with, then maybe you’re not the person I thought you were, either.”
The words hit me like a slap, but I couldn’t deny the truth in them. We had both changed, in ways that had pulled us apart instead of bringing us closer.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
George nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking. “Me too.”
I watched as he turned and walked away, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the emptiness of the room.
I sat down on the couch, my heart aching with the weight of what we’d lost. I still loved him. I probably always would. But love alone hadn’t been enough to keep us together.
And as the hours passed, I realized that letting go of someone you still love might be the hardest thing in the world—but sometimes, it’s the only choice you have.
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I Know It's Over
!!! Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers !!!
After the battle, Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are taken back to London to regroup with Maddie and Tom, all the while guilt is threatening to eat Tails alive.
tw for injuries but nothing too graphic is stated as there is no mention of blood but there is mention of medical equipment and yelping in pain and yeah
Ao3 Link
Tails was a scientist, this was true, but even he couldn’t tell which part of him hurt the most as he laid crashed in a cornfield in the middle of who-knows-where. He felt lightheaded, that much was obvious, but there was also a tingling sensation crawling through every fibre of his skin that made him honestly want to shrivel up forever (or at least just for a nap). Not to mention, there was something happening that made it harder for him to breathe– like a bruised rib or something. It was hard to analyze when every part of him was this level of ouch.
It took a minute to realize he was laying on someone– that someone being Knuckles– who had his arms wrapped around him and Sonic. He couldn’t help but feel bad for him– that he had to burn up to make up for Tails’ failures, instead of staying to help finish the problem with the Eclip–
Holy cow.
“Sonic, look!” Tails instantly urged, needing someone else to confirm what he was seeing too.
Tails had never seen something so beautiful yet tragic in the earth’s night sky. The remains of the canon now looked like the beginning of a whole new galaxy– or maybe a star was a better comparison. Either way, he was actually relieved Knuckles got out of there before any of that happened…
Then again, not everyone got out.
“Shadow and Robotnik… they sacrificed themselves to save everyone,” he put together, even though it made his head spin worse, and a weight he hadn’t noticed pressed harder on his chest.
“‘You always have a choice,’” Sonic quoted, a distant look in his eyes, before he suddenly shook it off. “Guys, I’m– I’m sorry for running away like that, I shouldn’t have left you behind…”
Tails almost wanted to laugh, wanting to point out he basically left Knuckles behind too, to become a part of… of that…
He didn’t, though (though the weight pressed harder).
“...Can you two ever forgive me?” Sonic asked, bleary eyed.
Tails didn’t blame or think less of him, of course. He just about wanted to cry too, from sheer exhaustion if nothing else.
Knuckles found a way to smile though, which was saying something. “Of course. We are ‘Team Sonic’, after all.” He punched Sonic lightly, which still made the hedgehog wince, before Sonic pulled the warrior in for a hug Tails was quick to join.
“I think just ‘Team’ works,” Sonic eventually said with a teary laugh that got Tails laughing too, but for not too long due to the burning and aching and ow.
Despite it feeling good to be wrapped up safe in arms that cared for him, Tails was relieved when it broke, since he didn’t really think he could stand the ache much longer. He sunk back to the ground with a wince as he painfully tried peeling off his backpack.
Knuckles noticed his struggle and took the bag off for him, handing it over without a word.
“Thanks.” Tails smiled weakly, quickly making note of all the scorched fur and burnt quills on him, before finding his Miles Electric. “I’m gonna send Tom and Maddie our coordinates so we can get out of here.”
He could feel Knuckles and Sonic looking at him after he said that though, and it took him embarrassingly long to realize he said–
Sonic was the one to speak up. “Tails, Tom is–”
“I-I know, I know, I know.” Tails bit his tongue since his screen turned on (he thanked his past self for making his Electric able to withstand heats up to 4,000 degrees Kelvin). “I just– I’m sending them, so just… it won’t be long.”
He could still feel the eyes on him, but he just focused on getting those coordinates as fast as possible so they could go back to London and see if Tom was–
…If he...
It was Tails’ technology that got him hurt. He heard Shadow’s voice over the mic. He heard Shadow say he did what he had to before he disappeared. But he also knew Shadow wouldn’t just attack someone innocent like Tom– it was Tails’ fault– it was his plan, it was his tech, it was his–
“...ails? Tails, buddy, are you–?” Sonic tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrunk away.
“I’m busy right now, okay?” Tails’ voice cracked. “I-... I’ll try to do medical evaluations later.”
“That’s not what I’m asking about.” Sonic crossed his arms– though it made him cringe in pain.
“Well, it should be! You’re seriously hurt! I-I mean– coming out of Super Sonic like that? And then falling that far? Half of your quills are burnt black, for crying out loud,” Tails pointed out. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can do in a minute.” He went back to the coordinate searching– though of course the connection was still being wonky.
“Fox…” Knuckles seemed to decide it was his turn to argue now.
“You’re one to talk too– you’re burnt pretty bad as well! I mean– you basically took all three of our crash impacts. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a concussion o-or even radiation exposure effects due to staying at the Eclipse Canon for so long,” Tails pushed back, the weight pressing harder and making his heart pound as the map finally loaded.
Knuckles didn’t seem amused. “Fox, what are you–” “I’m just trying to get us back to London as soon as possible, okay? Will you let me do that now? Please?” Tails snapped slightly, clearly startling Sonic (though Knuckles was characteristically unphased).
The echidna stared at Tails for a moment, before nodding. “To your task.”
Tails bit his cheek, but brought his focus back to his Electric, which finally loaded their coordinates. Now, it was just as simple as a swipe and a tap and they were that much closer to home.
Home…
Tails had lived with Tom and Maddie for quite some time now, but he still couldn’t help the odd feeling he got when thinking of their house as home. After all, his past two homes weren’t exactly up to code, especially when in comparison to the Wachowski house. He wasn’t used to having a pet, or friends, or adults that liked him and genuinely wanted him around and brushed his fur and tucked him in at night, and–
And who he got hurt. Badly hurt.
“Okay, the coordinates are sent.” Tails forced himself away from his thoughts. Knuckles nodded, while Sonic only looked moderately relieved, and was quick to start pacing around.
Tails and Knuckles let him, the former working on doing some bug testing on the electric, and the latter doing some kind of warrior yoga meditation thing. The silence couldn't last forever though, as after maybe two minutes, Sonic spoke up.
“You know– if you guys wanted, I could go run around, get a good look of the place, and look for an airpl–”
“No,” both of them said at the same time.
“Hey! I’d be right back, I swear,” Sonic tried defending himself.
“Sonic, you’re barely able to even walk around like that; running will only make your injuries worse,” Tails tried to explain, but it was clear Sonic’s impatience remained.
“I feel fine,” he clearly lied, still having a shortness to his breath and a slight limp on his right side. “I just– I want to get to London as soon as possible.”
“I-I know, I know– but the connection on my electric got through so I’m sure Maddie already sent them to GUN,” Tails tried to comfort, but Sonic growled at the mention of the organization.
“Y’know, I think I’d rather take my chances with you piloting a random airplane.” He looked away bitterly.
“We are not going to steal from the local people, it would be dishonorable.” Knuckles put his foot down, making Sonic grumble more, but at least he didn’t argue.
Tails couldn’t blame Sonic for his impatience, he was itching to get back to London too. He was just too weak for pacing or flying right now. To be honest, he really just wanted to curl onto a ball, hide under the covers, and wait for this all to pass like a bad thunderstorm.
Tails was startled when he felt an arm wrap around him– even more surprised it was Knuckles’. Tails looked up, trying to see if he could get a good read of him, but he was stoic as ever. He was hurt, no doubt by the burns he sported too, but he never did let it show (except when fighting Shadow). It would be a lot harder to give him a medical evaluation, but Tails could guess his left hand was still bad from when Shadow twisted it. He was also showing signs of a minor concussion, looking a little more dazed and dizzy than usual. Of course, there wasn't anything Tails could really do about that until they got to the hospital, and even then Maddie would want to be in charge, since she was a vet and all.
“Take it easy, okay Knuckles? I can bandage some of your burns and your hand once we’re on our way out,” Tails advised, getting nothing but a short nod in response.
Things were quick to go quiet again, except for the sound of Sonic pacing and the occasional breeze stirring the corn, until the sounds of the GUN helicopter broke through. While Tails was relieved, he could tell his teammates were having… conflicted feelings, to say the least. Especially Sonic, who always wore his emotions on his sleeve.
Still, they all got up and followed the soldiers’ orders to take their seats and wait for the hour and a half flight from Aquitaine, France (so that's that's where they were) to London. Of course, that only lasted until lift off, as shortly after Sonic began to pace again.
Thankfully, the soldiers let Tails use their first aid kit and so he began by wrapping up Knuckles’ arm.
The trained warrior didn't complain a bit, even when Tails had to straighten it out in a way he knew had to be uncomfortable for the splint. Tails could admire that; the ability to tough things out, to not complain when doing the right thing gets him hurt, to not mention how Tails left Knuckles behind without so much as a second thought. He appreciated Knuckles allowing him to still do what he was good at before... well, before–
“I can't take this anymore– how much longer is it gonna be?” Sonic complained loudly to the pilot, which got a silent glare from one of the soldiers.
“Sit down, hedgehog,” she ordered, and he rolled his eyes.
“You must be fun at parties,” he muttered, going back to Knuckles and Tails to continue his pacing again.
Tails took pity on him. “Considering it’s been no more than ten minutes since we left, I’d say we still have an hour and twenty minutes.” He finished tying off Knuckles’ bandage. “You’re up next, if you’re ready.”
Sonic sighed and slumped himself in the seat opposite to Tails. “Y’know, if I had known we were in France, I would’ve just run,” he grunted.
Tails sighed, looking for the aloe vera. “Sonic, you know–”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sonic crossed his arms with a wince again and began tapping his foot. “I would’ve found a way to bring you two along.”
Tails couldn’t help but smile a little as he shook his head. “I appreciate it, Sonic, but I think Tom and Maddie would appreciate it if you didn’t get yourself killed just so you can see if–... if…” Tails couldn’t finish the sentence, the weight on his chest threatening to cave in. Again, he felt Knuckles place a hand on his shoulder, which was half comforting, half guilt-inducing.
“The Lord of Donuts will be alright, Fox. We must be patient until then,” he spoke calmly, but, again, Tails just couldn’t quite feel settled.
“Y-yeah, I know.” Tails finally found the bottle and squeezed out a glob before rubbing it on a burnt spot on Sonic’s arm, making his teammate cringe.
“Yeesh, are you trying to kill me here?” Sonic complained half-heartedly.
“Your adrenaline is running out.” Tails waved off. “You’re going to be in a world of pain soon, and you’ll be thanking me for doing at least some of this ahead of time.”
Sonic waved him off with his free arm. “You and your science.”
“Never fails,” Tails teased, before remembering all over again how it was his tech that got Tom hurt and– and Maddie was disappointed in him– saw him as a failure and if anything really bad happened he’d probably end up getting kicked out and on his own again– which really, really, really sucked because he really liked Tom and Maddie and he hadn’t wanted to fail them, but–
“Tails– Tails, what’s the matter? Why do you keep doing that? What’s going on, man?” Sonic asked, placing a hand on his other shoulder.
Tails shook his head and desperately forced back any tears that were threatening to form. “I’m sorry, I just– it’s–... I-I…” He looked down at his hands and at the bottle of aloe. “I need to make sure you two are okay.”
Sonic gave a pitiful smile. “I’m okay, bud.”
Tails scoffed, rubbing the bottle with his finger. “You’re probably not gonna wanna run for the next week or two with all the damage you’ve done– plus you’re all burnt a-and–”
“Yeah, but I’m also alive thanks to you two saving my butt,” Sonic punched the fox’s arm lightly, which made Knuckles chuckle quietly.
Tails couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “Y-yeah, that is true– though it’s all on Knuckles, really, since when I tried I couldn’t throw the ring and I passed out from all the wind and pressure and heat, unlike him, who was totally cool with it,” he confessed, pouring more aloe to rub on Sonic’s shoulder.
“Your bravery was most noteworthy, Fox. You made a valiant effort to protect your teammate and this planet from harm. You should be proud of what you have accomplished,” Knuckles spoke up, and Tails could feel the stern look he was giving on the back of his neck.
“Thanks, Knuckles.” Tails didn’t so much as glance his way, noting silently that among his accomplishments was getting Tom hurt. However, he just kept on working, ignoring the look Sonic was also giving him as well.
After another wince in pain, Sonic sighed. “I’m nervous too, bud… but we’ll– we’ll figure something out, I’m sure.”
Tails couldn’t speak, swallowing a lump in his throat with a silent nod. He really didn’t have time for crying or for pity right now, he had to help his friends, he had to prove he could still do good before he lost the only home he’d ever known.
And thankfully, Sonic let him, allowing him to apply more aloe before bandaging some areas up and even wrapping his ankles (which Sonic insisted he didn’t need, despite actively whining when he wrapped his right foot).
By the time he was done, it seemed Tails’ own adrenaline was rapidly running out. When he tried to inspect himself for injuries or burns, he barely managed to apply a band-aid before he started to actively nod off. He tried to fight as best he could, apply aloe here and there. However, his tails and tailbones were what hurt the most, but there wasn’t anything he could really do until he got to Maddie, so the best thing he could do right now was rest up.
Not that she would probably want to help Tails. She’d probably not even want him in the room. No, she’d tell him to pack his things and go, to stop embarrassing her family and say he ‘caused them enough trouble,’ before kicking him out in the rain. Not that it was raining right now but– but that’s how these things went.
At least this time Tails could be prepared.
With that thought in mind, Tails curled up in his chair, next to his compatriots, before being dragged down into a heavy sleep.
.o0o.
“Ahhh, home sweet home,” Sonic grinned, setting down his suitcase and immediately doing a lap around the place, which made Tails laugh. “Definitely better than being at that hotel for two weeks. Although, I still don’t agree with the new living room paint.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge here, are you?” Maddie teased, bringing in her suitcase plus a large bag full of papers and bills and all sorts of adult human earth stuff.
“There are many reasons the hedgehog should not be in charge, Pretzel Woman; his arrogance, his temperament, his–”
“Alright, Knuckles, that’s enough,” Tom warned casually, bringing in Ozzie and his two duffle bags.
“Very well, Lord of Donuts. As leader of this clan, I trust your judgement.” Knuckles put a hand on his chest.
“Rrright… Well, it’s only 4pm, so… Sonic, how’s about you pick out a movie to show the new guys while me and Maddie get some things settled and order pizza?” Tom suggested, setting his bags down on a table.
“Oo! Yes! Knuckles, I got some action movies I know you’ll love– there’s one where this adventure guy is fighting these Nazis, right? And there’s this temple with cultists and–”
“Hey, let’s try to make it a movie everyone can enjoy?” Maddie interrupted, noticing Tails holding one of his namesakes tight.
“H-hey! I can handle violence! Especially if it teaches me about ancient earth culture,” Tails protested.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly call Temple of Doom ‘educational’,” Tom chuckled, unleashing Ozzie, who immediately started following Knuckles.
“Oh please, Tails is a pro! He can totally handle all the fighting and violence.” Sonic wrapped an arm around Tails’ shoulder, making him smile.
Tom didn’t seem swayed in the slightest, though. “I seem to recall the last time we watched it, a certain hedgehog needed to sleep in our bed for a week because he was scared of his heart getting ripped out.”
“Wha–? I–? I would never!” Sonic protest, before he huffed. “Okay, fine, I’ll think of something else.”
Knuckles shook his head. “I disagree. I think we should watch this ‘moo-vie’, as I find the premise rather intriguing– although I have one question for you, Hedgehog,” Knuckles turned to him. “What exactly is a na–”
“Hey! Knuckles, let’s leave human questions for tomorrow, okay bud? Just go hang out on the couch for now,” Tom interrupted with a sudden burst of energy, exchanging a look with Maddie. “Besides, Sonic is going to choose a movie everyone can enjoy, right?”
“Right, right, yeah,” Sonic waved off, ego still bruised.
“Good.” Maddie scratched him behind his ears, which perked him up. “We’ll just be in our room if you need us, but it shouldn’t be too long.”
“You got it.” Sonic saluted, making the woman laugh again and kiss his forehead before taking her bags and paperwork away.
“Make good choices.” Tom gave a friendly wink before he too disappeared.
“Alright, well gang, we have some choices to make.” Sonic clapped his hands before he sped off to the living room, Knuckles and Tails quick to follow. “We could watch Star Wars, since if we stick to the main trilogy it’s pretty tame– or we could watch some Planet Earth documentaries if you guys want a crash course on that kind of thing– or! Oo! Tails, I know you’ll love Yu-Gi-Oh, we should do that!”
“Oh-! I’m cool with whatever you guys want, really, you don’t have to go out of your way or anything.” Tails took a step back.
“Does this ‘Yu-Gi-Oh’ also have fighting and violence?” Knuckles asked, taking his seat next to Sonic on the couch.
“Fighting, yes. Violence, not really. It’s cool though, you’ll like it too.” Sonic grinned before he found the remote and turned on the TV.
“Ah–! Sorcery!” Knuckles jumped up, before shaking his fear off. “Not that it matters! No magic is strong enough to take down an echidna warrior!” He pointed his fists to the television.
“Woah there, dude! Mom and Dad do not need you destroying another TV, chill out.” Sonic quickly tried to put his arms down.
While Sonic and Knuckles started arguing about the nature of the television, Tails sat on the ground close to the kitchen, and dug out his Miles Electric to try and do some more repairs. Of course, Tails had tinkered a lot with his electric while at the hotel, but the right-hand button still wasn’t responding as it should have. He was lucky he had barely needed it these past two weeks, otherwise it would’ve frustrated him a lot more. But now that Sonic was back home, Tails knew it was just a matter of time, and so got back to work, the sound of arguing making solid background noise.
Tails had managed to remove the casing on his electric, unscrew any and all coverings, and was part way through testing and cleaning parts of the motherboard when there was someone standing over him.
“Hey kiddo, what’re you doing over here all by yourself? You can barely even see the TV,” Tom pointed out, kneeling down to get a look– though Tails quickly tried to cover it with his hands.
“S-sorry! I know I should be enjoying the movie, it’s just that I–”
“Woah, hey, it’s cool, you’re not in trouble,” Tom assured. “I just wanna know what you’re working on, if that’s alright.”
Tails tilted his head. “But… why?”
Tom chuckled, fully taking his seat on the ground. “Because it’s not every day I meet a genius tech whiz kid with a bag full of cool and dangerous tech.”
“O-oh! Right, yeah.” Tails couldn’t help but blush. “It’s nothing special, really, I’m just fixing up my Miles Electric.”
“‘Miles Electric’, huh? What’s the name for? Is it like a GPS?” Tom asked.
“It is! But it does a lot more, usually. And it’s named after– a-after me, actually.” Tails looked down at the device.
Tom sat up straighter. “So your birth name is Miles?”
“Miles Prower, yes.” Tails picked at the carpet.
Tom chuckled. “I like it. Suits you.” “Y-yeah, but I prefer Tails, since that's what everyone calls me,” he explained, tracing the AGP slot with his finger anxiously.
“Whatever makes you more comfortable, Tails.” Tom smiled softly, making the fox blush again.
“Thank you, Mr. Wachowski.”
“You can call me Tom if you want, I don’t mind,” he offered.
“R-right! Well– um– the Miles Electric is sorta like how phones work for you guys, except mine has its own radio wave emissions that don’t rely on satellites for things like tracking and measuring chaos energy levels,” Tails explained, taking out a small magnifying glass to examine the CPU more closely.
“Wow, that sounds fancy. You made it yourself from scratch?” Tom asked.
Tails nodded. “I had a whole lab back on our home planet where I made all of my gadgets and gizmos– though I left most of them behind when I found out Knuckles was on his way.”
“Oh? What other stuff do you have over there?”
“Oh, lots of things.” Tails set down the magnifying glass. “Televisions, laser pistols, smoke bombs, hoverboards, cameras, wire traps, a jetpack, and some prototypes for my own airplane.” Tails couldn’t help but smile. “Man, I know I totally shouldn’t have done it, but flying that airplane was exhilarating– I’d give just about anything to do it again.”
“Ahh, so we got a pilot on our hands, hm?” Tom smiled too.
“Y-yeah! Though before now it’s been mostly simulations and readings and whatnot, so you know.” Tails shrugged off.
“That’s still super impressive, kiddo. Not everyone can take skills from video games and apply them to real life– otherwise I think Sonic would be a much better driver,” he joked.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Tails giggled. “It helps that I’ve been passionate about flying planes for as long as I can remember.” He picked up his magnifying glass again.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed since you can already fly,” Tom pointed out.
“Yeah, but flying a plane has far more endurance, you know? Like– if I owned a plane I could really go somewh– dang it, I need to reball this,” Tails muttered, frustrated to find the CPU's connection had a slight fracture he hadn’t noticed before.
“Distance is the goal, hm?” Tom focused on. “I get that. I used to dream of flying off to San Francisco to be a big city cop.”
“Until Sonic came around, right?” Tails recalled, giving up on fixing the CPU and checking if other parts were in need of cleaning.
Tom nodded. “Yep. He made me realize I had everything I could ever ask for right here.”
Tails hummed. “Sounds nice.”
“It is,” Tom agreed. “But we were talking about airplanes, right? Did you say you had plans to build one of your own?”
“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, finding a smidge of dirt on the digital signal processor he wiped clean. “I even made a few models and mini prototypes that fly pretty well. I’ve never really had the materials to make a life sized one, though, so until now it was more of a distant dream.”
“That’s really cool, kid.” Tom nudged him playfully. “Now, what would you say is the hardest part in building a plane?”
Tails snorted. “Obviously, the alignment.”
“Obviously.” Tom acted like he knew that too, which made the fox giggle.
“Everything has to be in its exact place at the exact measurements– especially in the wings and fuselage, otherwise the plane will be lopsided and then it can’t even get off the ground!” he explained. “Of course, there’s also hydraulics and making everything fit into a small and sleek frame, but I think I’ve already mastered that skill from working on my jetpack and hoverboard. Though– of course, I’ll have to make sure whatever seats I make, they can fit a person comfortably, since I don’t think standing on the wings is the smartest thing to keep doing,” Tails laughed, putting the motherboard back in its place and rescrewing it to the casing.
“Wait, you don’t mean Sonic–” Tom shook his head, “You know what? Don’t tell me. Just make sure nothing like that happens again.”
“I’ll try my best, Mr. Wachowski,” Tails laughed more. “But as I was saying, I’ll also have to decide if I want an ejector seat or not, since I can just fly out if worst comes to worst, and I’d really rather focus on making sure nothing could damage it in the first place– though of course that’s a lot easier said than done since I don’t exactly have Eggman level tech within reach at all times– and even then I managed to blow up quite a bit of it with my laser gun.” He snorted. “I’d also have to decide if I want a radio, just in case I come across another plane or person, though I– I don’t know. Radio technology is easy, of course, but it would take up a lot of space for something I probably won’t even need. Plus, headphones are kind of a pain for us, as opposed to you guys due to having less convenient locations. I also wouldn’t want a glass roof to protect from wind, so I guess a radio actually wouldn’t work at all, which– yeah, I’m fine with that, and– Oh! On the topic of the ejector, I’d have to also figure out the hydraulics there and determine the right amount of pressure and speed that would lead to me being a safe distance away but not so fast that I can’t manage to fly before I hit the ground, which the books I’ve read are not very helpful in helping me calculate, but I’ve never really been one to back down from a challenge like that. After all, it’s just a matter of wind resistance, G-force, acceleration, and my own reaction times– which could certainly use some work based on what happened in Syria.” Tails scratched his neck.
“Ah, I’m sure it’s nothing a little more baseball practice can’t fix, I wouldn’t worry,” Tom assured.
“Thanks.” Tails gave a crooked smile. “But yeah, there’s a lot that goes into it, and I’m just glad I don’t need a parachute, otherwise I’d have to either make a big pocket in my bag with a drawstring and everything, or get a new bag entirely, which will be hard because–” Tails suddenly realized just how much he was talking, and froze. “I– I’m sorry, Mr. Wachowski, you don’t want to hear any of this, you should be watching the movie, I–”
“Woah, hey, it’s all good, Tails, don’t worry.” Tom placed a hand on his shoulder.
Tails looked away. “You don’t have to lie, Mr. Wachowski. I-I know it’s stupid–”
“You talking about airplanes is not ‘stupid’, Tails, it’s super awesome,” Tom insisted, squeezing the fox’s shoulder. “I may not have understood about half of what you said, but I can tell you’re really passionate about this engineering stuff, and I love hearing passionate people talk.”
Tails blinked. “R-really?”
Tom nodded. “Oh, yeah. You talk about airplanes the same way Sonic talks about his comics and John Wick, and you know what? Even though I can’t even tell which character is from which universe or timeline, I could listen to him talk about it all day.”
Tails couldn’t help but smile as his namesakes bounced up and down. “Thanks, Mr. Wachowski. Your hospitality means a lot to me.”
“No problem, kiddo.” Tom smiled back before pulling out his phone while Tails finally pieced his Electric back together.
“You know, Maddie and I have been looking into bed frames for you and Knuckles for the attic. I’m starting to think it would be really cool if we could find an airplane shaped one, especially because it would match Sonic’s car bed. What do you think, though?” Tom showed Tails his screen, which made the kit freeze.
“W...Why are you looking into bed frames for us, Mr. Wachowski?” Tails glanced up.
Tom tilted his head. “I know you two are technically animals, but I know beds are a lot more comfortable than the ground.”
Tails shook his head. “No, that’s not– I mean like– like why? I-It’s not like I’m going to live here.”
Tom furrowed his brow. “I thought we talked about you staying with us back at the hotel.”
“I-I thought you meant like for a night or two! You– you don’t really want me here, do you?” Tails asked.
“Tails, of course we want you here,” Tom moved to be in front of Tails, where he then tilted the fox’s chin so he’d meet his eyes. “You’re a really cool, smart, and compassionate kid who helped save our planet, and Sonic himself especially. Plus Maddie and Sonic already adore you– Knuckles too, for that matter. We all want you here and with us and... and we even want you to be a part of our family, if you’d like.”
Tails looked down at his Electric again, his heart pounding in his chest. The whole reason he was fixing his Electric was so he’d be able to be on his own again– to get out of their hair before they got too annoyed by his quirks or weirded out by his tails, like his entire village (including his parents) had.
But now… Now he was being offered a place to stay? Permanently? What did that mean? Tom said he wanted him to join their family– Tails hadn’t ever really been part of a real family, not like the one Sonic, Tom, and Maddie had– would he even be good at it? What if he messed up? What if they got mad at him? Surely he’d be tossed out, just like he had before. It wouldn’t be worth it. Tails didn’t know how to live with other people, he was a loner, he would just mess it up–
But Tom… Tom liked him. He liked talking to him, he liked hearing him ramble, and he thought Tails had a gift, which was more than anyone back at the village would say. So... So maybe this time, things could… be okay. Maybe this time, Tails could be part of a family. Maybe, if Tails said yes, he could have loving parents, and cool older brothers, and a nice dog, and a house in the woods, and he could be safe, and warm, and loved, and cared for in ways he never even knew.
“Look, I know it’s early, so I understand if you need more time, but know that Maddie, and Sonic, and I care about you, okay? We don’t wan–”
Tom was interrupted by Tails leaping up and hugging him as tight as he could, which he returned once he processed.
“Thank you, Mr. Wachowski, I-I don’t know what to say.” Tails sniffled.
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. We’re happy to have you here.” Tom hugged him tighter, making him smile because for once in his life, Tails could believe that.
.o0o.
The sleeping fox kit was woken up by Sonic shaking his arm, but all Tails wanted was to go back to his dream, where everything felt so safe and warm…
“Tails, dude, we’re here, wake up.” Sonic shook his arm again.
“H-huh?” Tails looked around to make sure he was right, and lo and behold the helicopter was docked at the hospital, which meant–
Tails jumped out of his seat instantly and started flying; he was so desperate to see if Tom was okay. However, the idea was short lived, as he yelped and fell to the ground before even forming a full two circles.
“Careful, Fox, you have not been aided yet,” Knuckles scolded softly, assisting Sonic in helping Tails up.
“Yeah, slow your roll, Tails; being impatient is my thing.” Sonic grinned.
“Right, yeah, be patient, I know that,” Tails laughed pathetically, finally gaining his footing, making one of the soldiers roll their eyes.
“Follow me,” they said, and the three of them did as they were told. It took four flights of stairs, one elevator ride, and several twists and turns, but finally, Tails, Knuckles, and Sonic were in front of ICU room A931.
There was a moment, a moment where, when Sonic opened the door, Tails closed his eyes and turned away. Sonic had tugged him forward, but Tails wanted to dig his heels in. The weight was pressing harder, begging for him to stop– to stay out in the hallway forever if it meant that he would never have to face–
“Oh my god– Boys!” Maddie cried out, and before Tails knew it, he was running at her full speed while she knelt at the ground, his teammates quickly joining him.
“Oh, my babies– I’m so sorry– I’m so glad you’re here– is everyone alright? I’m so sorry for leaving you like that– oh, you’re all so brave– and so young– I’m so glad you’re all here.” Maddie hugged them tight and planted kisses on each of their heads, her face wet with tears.
“I-it’s okay, Mom, we’re all in one piece, it’s okay,” Sonic replied, nuzzling his face against hers while he started to cry too.
“Our dear Fox has kept us well in check; you should be very proud of his work.” Knuckles nuzzled closer too.
“Oh, good, I was just– I was so scared, and when I saw that– that thing in the sky, I just– I'm so glad you're okay.” Maddie sighed a massive breath of relief.
“N-not... not all of us,” Sonic mumbled, before he dared to look up and away towards the hospital bed (where Tails still couldn't bear a glance).
“D-Dad, how– how is he?” Sonic looked back and forth between him and Maddie, bouncing on his feet.
Maddie sniffled and let go of the hug to wipe her face (though Tails stayed clung tight). “You can hug him, it's okay, just be careful with all the wires and with his left shoulder.”
Sonic nodded, and was at the bed in a blur, though hugged him much slower.
“He… is alive, no?” Knuckles asked softly.
Maddie scratched his head. “He's alive, sweetie. He's just... he's asleep right now… and will be for a while.”
The weight pressed much harder on Tails’ chest, forcing him to cling to Maddie tighter or else burst into tears.
“Oh baby, it's okay. The doctor says his vitals are holding good and strong; he should be okay,” Maddie tried to soothe, but Tails just shook and trembled in her arms.
“Fox, our good Pretzel Woman would not lie to us, our Donut Lord will be well in no time” Knuckles patted Tails’ back, but there was the slightest quiver to his voice that made him feel worse.
“So what’s– what’s wrong with him…?” Sonic asked carefully, his voice low.
Tails could feel Maddie tense before she slowly stood up, thankfully picking him up with her, allowing him to bury his head in her chest and away from the bed.
“W-well… his shoulder is dislocated, and he bonked his head pretty hard in the fall, but the biggest problem is his kidney, right where h-he was– where he– you know.” She looked away to stop herself from crying.
Tails winced, burying his head deeper, but the weight in his chest was crushing him alive, he couldn't stand it anymore, and so he finally peeped a look at Tom and–
He had electroencephalogram stickers on his head, measuring his brain waves onto one of the many screens next to him. He had unusual breathing, starting and stopping at odd intervals, but was probably helped by an oxygen mask. He didn’t move or even twitch at Sonic’s touch, and wasn’t responding to any noise either. His hand and wrist looked slightly swollen, his watch and wedding ring removed and placed on a side table. There was an IV and heart monitor on his right hand, which Sonic was careful to not mess with as he held his hand and sat close. His left arm was in a sling, the disguise now made necessary. His skin was also very pale, not helped by being completely washed out by the pale blues and whites of the room, bedsheets, and hospital gown. He looked awful. If he weren’t asleep, he’d be in so much pain…
“S-so a concussion, a gl-glenohumeral joint dislocation, acute kidney injury, a-and a– a coma?” Tails found he couldn’t peel his eyes away.
The fox felt her startle, and could see her examining him with a mix of pained confusion and pity.
“Y-yeah, that’s… that’s what the doctor said, sweetheart.” She tried to smile, but it just– something about Maddie saying that he was right, that Tom was in a coma, it– it hurt– it hurt more than anything had ever hurt Tails before– the weight on his chest– the weight of his failures finally crashed down on Tails, and the fox let out an agonized sob.
“Tails!” Everyone cried out at once– but Tails ignored it, frantically pushing his way out of Maddie’s arms and attempting to fly straight to the door– only to immediately yelp in pain and fall to the ground. He narrowly avoided Knuckles grabbing hold of his arm, but when he tried to run for the door, Sonic sped right in front of him.
“Tails, what’s going on, bud?” Sonic asked, hands held out in an attempt to soothe.
Tails shook his head. “I-I–”
His eyes went back to Tom, who was still unconscious– completely unaware of what was happening right in front of him– because of Tails– because of his technology–
“I-I’m sorry, okay?!” Tails shouted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”
“W-What?” Sonic took a step back. “Tails, it’s not–” “I-It was my plan! It was my tech! I-I should’ve had a safeguard o-or– or something! A-and now it's all my fault that he’s dying a-and– a-and I’m gonna lose one of the first people to ever even care about me,” Tails sobbed, collapsing to his knees.
It took less than a second for arms to wrap around and squeeze him tight.
“I-It’s not your fault, Tails, none of us knew Shadow would be there,” Sonic insisted, eyes clenched tight as he cried too.
A soft hand stroked the top of his head. “Sonic’s right, honey, it’s not your fault. We didn’t kn–”
“B-but I should have!” Tails fought back. “I-I just– if I had a safeguard, o-or some kind of quick cancel, o-or if I used my Electric to track Shadow, I-I coulda stopped him.”
“Fox, your hands were already full from planning our mission and guiding us through obstacles– you have been truly extraordinary today,” Knuckles argued too, but Tails couldn’t have disagreed more.
“I-If I-I h-h-had ju-just– If I had j-just thought for– for five seconds– do the one thing I’m good at for five seconds–” he choked out.
“Tails, baby, that’s not true– you’re so kind and gentle and sweet– you’re so much more than our tech guy,” Maddie insisted, but Tails could barely hear her over the anguish in his head.
“I-If I had just planned like I was supposed to– I-I coulda saved him! B-but now h-he’s– a-and now I have to leave, a-a-and I really don’t wanna– I don’t wanna go back, I don’t wanna.” Tails buried his head in Sonic’s shoulder.
“W-What? Tails– Tails, why– You can’t– w-we– why?” Sonic was at a complete loss for words.
“Tails– Tails, baby, look at me,” Maddie grabbed his right shoulder and lifted his chin. “You aren’t going anywhere, okay?”
Tails shook his head. “B-but–”
“No ‘but’s, honey. You belong here with your family.” Maddie smiled while she cried, wiping away Tails’ tears.
“B-But h-he got hurt cuz of my tech– a-a-aren’t you m-m-mad at me?” Tails hiccuped.
Maddie’s face melted. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not mad at you,” she cooed, scooping up the fox in her lap. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so much today and for our family– I would never, ever want you to leave us.”
“Y-yeah! Besides, it’s not your fault he got hurt, it’s GUN’s,” Sonic added, moving to Maddie’s side where Tails could see him.
Tails sniffled and wiped his eyes. “B-but– but I coulda–”
“You did the best you could, Fox. You should be proud of how well you protected our family and our home,” Knuckles insisted.
“I– I left you behind on the arc– I didn’t– I didn’t even think about what would happen to you– what if you had been there, Knuckles? Wh-what if you– And what if I failed to catch Sonic? I didn’t throw the ring, I just passed out– I failed you guys– all of you.” Tails started shaking again, and Maddie rubbed soothing circles in his back.
“You haven’t failed anyone, Tails. You might have made a mistake or two, but it’s okay because that’s what the rest of us are here for, you know? We take care of each other, that’s what real families do.” She kissed his forehead.
Tails looked at the ground with a sniffle. “S-so… so even– even if he–...”
Maddie took a deep, shaky breath. “Even if– if Tom passed… I’d still want you here because you’re my kid, and I love you so much.” She hugged him tighter. “And I promise you, there is nothing you could possibly do that would make me stop.”
“O-oh…” Tails let out in a low whisper. “I–... thank you, Mrs–” Tails paused, taking a breath, “Mom. Thank you, Mom.” He smiled weakly up at her.
Maddie beamed before hugging him even tighter. “Anytime, baby.”
“Y-yeah! A-and– And I promise too, Tails, I might get annoyed or frustrated sometimes, but I’d never want you to leave. You’re my little brother, and I love you too,” Sonic joined in.
“The same goes for me as well, Fox. While we might not share blood, you’re as much kin to me as you are my friend,” Knuckles added, patting Tails’ back for emphasis.
“I love you guys too,” Tails giggled, before he glanced back at Tom's bed.
Maddie noticed this, of course, and gave the fox a scratch behind the ears. “He loves you too, you know.”
“I know.” Tails’ smile grew before falling slightly. “I just– I hope he'll be okay…”
Maddie let out a long sigh, letting go of Tails so she could wrap her arms around Sonic and Knuckles too. “I know it's scary right now, but it'll all work out, I promise.”
“Our Donut Lord is a strong fighter, for a human. He will overcome this.” Knuckles nodded in agreement, earning him a scratch on the head from Maddie.
Sonic chuckled. “Yeah… and if I know Dad– which, I totally do– then I know that he's not gonna give up without a fight.”
“We'll just… have to wait, in the meantime.” Tails said as he and Maddie exchanged weak smiles.
“Ugh, patience.” Sonic scrunched his face up.
“Good things come to those who wait, Sonic.” Maddie booped his nose before resting her head on Tails’.
“Say that to marathon winners,” Sonic argued.
“Say that to farmers,” Tails countered.
Sonic rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay you win that one.”
“As I was saying…” Maddie eyed the two of them. “It might be hard, and it might take a lot of time, but we're gonna get through it together as a team. It might take a long time before things start looking up, but no matter what, we’re in this together as a family. So long as we remember that, everything will work out.”
She hugged Tails tighter and made him smile, because for the second time in his life, he truly believed that.
#sonic#sth#sonic movie 3#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#tom wachowski#maddie wachowski#hurt/comfort#angst#family feels#abandonment issues#tw hospitals#childhood trauma#sonic movie 3 spoilers#sonic 3 spoilers#sonic movie spoilers#tw injuries#tw coma
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(Lmk if this is too cringy or we’re too much of a cliché or this is just straight up embarrassing IDK I’m on my period and I have a lot of emotions ) maybe a lil blurb on samy on her period being in like an all boys house and will getting her chocolate and being her heating pad 
omg anon nooooo it’s not cliche at all (i love cliche) and i feel like this is so cutie and so mundane and things will just does for samy without her asking
au masterlist
it wasn’t hard to tell that the youngest hughes had been in a bad mood since she woke up. she trudged down the stairs bleary eyed and tired from having tossing and turning all night. she felt bad for probably keeping will awake with her shuffling because he wasn’t in the bed when she woke up that morning.
to make it worse, samy realized she started her period today which just was the cherry on top of one of the boys eating the last of her granola bars and then realizing she was almost out of tampons. so far, it just wasn’t shaping up to be a good morning for the girl.
while her brothers helped their dad with work around the house, samy laid inside on the couch overcome with cramps. the first day of her period was always the worst because of her cramps, back pain, moodiness, and irritation all mixed into one. she didn’t even know where will was. she hadn’t seen him once this morning and that made her sad because she loved waking up next to her boyfriend during the summer and now he was no where to be seen.
unbeknownst to samy though, will had gotten up early that morning because 1. he needed to run errands because he was out of almost all of his go-to snacks and 2. he went out to buy some of the little chocolate hearts he knew samy loved whenever she was on her period. the blonde always knew when her period was coming because she happened to toss and turn every night it came and will could tell by her slight snappiness the last two days that it was probably coming soon because the brunette always got a bit more snappy with people a few days before her period.
he wanted to surprise her, so when he came back into the somewhat empty house he found her laying on the couch watching tv. will carefully tapped her shoulder and samy’s gaze snapped up.
“hi, where’ve you been?” she wondered.
“i was getting more snacks for myself, but i got these for you,” he showed the bag of chocolates hidden behind his back. samy sat up, eyes widening as she eyed the candy.
“willlll, you didn’t,” she smiled widely.
“you got your period this morning, didn’t you?” he wondered and she raised her eyebrow.
“how’d you know?”
“because i just know you. you always toss and turn the night before your period,” the blonde kissed the top of her head and maybe it was her heightened emotions because of her period, but the brunette started getting teary that her boyfriend just knew her so well he got her chocolate without even having to ask.
“will, you’re so sweet. god, i don’t deserve you. sorry if i kept you up last night,” samy mumbled, trying to suppress her tears while the blonde just chuckled.
“you didn’t, but you’re welcome. i love you. i’ll come lay with you in a second, okay?” he said and the girl nodded. will went back to the kitchen to put away his snacks and also restock samy’s granola bars that he happened to notice were gone before he left.
when he came back samy had dug into the chocolates and made grabby hands at him to come lay with her. the boy smiled softly, spreading out across the couch so his entire body was on her legs and his head rested on her stomach. this was how samy liked it whenever she was on her period because will was always so warm, he was her heating pad and she didn’t need an actual one. she ran her hands through his curls and the blonde hummed at the feeling of her gentle fingers massaging his roots.
“want one?” samy wondered and held out one of the chocolates. will happily let her feed it to him and they stayed like that almost the whole day.
the youngest hughes’ mood improved significantly as the day went on and maybe having will by her side made dealing with her period just that much better.
#will smith hockey#hughes!sister x will smith au#samy x will#samy hughes#will smith x oc#will smith imagine#boston college hockey#boston college#uofmichigan#umich hockey#will smith hockey fluff#will smith hockey 2#will smith 2#wsh2#ws6#ws2#san jose sharks#sjs#sj sharks#san jose sharks fic#umichsoccer#umich#umich soccer#umich blurb#umich imagine#umich wolverines#umich fic#umich blurbs#umich wolverine#nhl
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Images of the past flashed before Vincent’s mind, bringing him back to those days of agonizing over Lucrecia’s plight. The feeling of helplessness once again wormed its way into Vincent, gripping his throat with the pangs of regret. Her pleading voice, her trembling hands that sought to hold her beloved son, the fear of her once again being forever denied as her right to motherhood--- it tore Vincent to pieces.
Tears streamed down Lucrecia’s pale delicate skin, chilled by the breeze that carried the voices lingering in the cave. She looked as though she would collapse from the weight of emotions overwhelming her senses. It took everything in Vincent’s will-power to hold himself back from rushing to her side to engulf her in his arms. This was between her and Sephiroth; he was merely the enabler. Sephiroth’s discomfort slowly began to unveil. The more Lucrecia pleaded with Sephiroth and revealed their bond, the more Vincent could notice Sephiroth’s expression crease with disdain. Vincent was well aware that the reception wouldn’t be mutual, but the longer Vincent observed, the more he began to sense Sephiroth’s anger rise. Whether it was due to the overwhelming realization, a steadfast denial, or the cruel bending of reality by Jenova’s works, Vincent could only fathom. Seeing Sephiroth take a step back and grip his head, Lucrecia looked on helplessly, at first confused about what her son was going through. But just as her motherly instincts kicked in, Lucrecia rushed forward and extended her hand in an effort to comfort Sephiroth. But just as her hand was about to touch the soft silver tresses of Sephiroth’s head, Lucrecia froze in utter horror. That voice… what is this feeling…? Is it… Lucrecia gasped sharply in terror once she realized who the voice belonged to. Trepidation seized hold of her, and a cold shiver went down her spine. “N-no… this can’t be…” Her voice trembled, her efforts to compose herself not yielding the necessary results. “Lucrecia?!” Alerted at once to her affliction, Vincent momentarily forgot his aching legs and rushed to her side, biting back a searing pain that reminded him he was not fully healed. He caught hold of her shoulders in an attempt to steady her, but Lucrecia immediately attempted to push Vincent away. “Lucrecia, please—what’s wrong?” Vincent maintained his grip, not wanting her to fall and unwilling to let her fight this on her own. Even if Vincent couldn’t hear Jenova’s voice, just from his own experience, and knowing how Jenova cells affected their victims, he had an idea of what Lucrecia was going through. “Stop it--! You don’t own him! He’s not yours!” Lucrecia cried out in anguish, knowing her words were reaching the alien dwelling inside her, but also knowing she was mostly helpless to resist it, let alone affect its intensions. Vincent knew she was fighting a battle he couldn’t fight for her. All he could do was assure her that he was there for her. Sephiroth’s voice diverted Vincent’s gaze; the betrayal and bitterness dripping from his words in copious amounts. It cut deep into Vincent’s heart, but he knew it was searing Lucrecia’s even deeper. “Sephiroth…” Lucrecia wept, looking up at her son through a blur of tears. As painful as those words were, she didn’t have a heart to deny them. “I… I just…” Even if she had been denied access to even see Sephiroth, she knew all too well what had been done to him. After all, she was once a scientist who was all too willing to put aside morals in the name of science. That was, until she first felt the kick of her son in her womb. Vincent felt Lucrecia’s body suddenly sink under the weight of sorrow and defeat, prompting him to ease her down as she knelt on the ground, her head lowered in dejection. “I’m so sorry…” Lucrecia’s voice faded, overcome with grief and regret, allowing her tears to flow freely. She knew there was nothing she could do. Jenova’s words did little to hurt her. But Sephiroth’s tore wide the wound that had never healed. Kneeling beside Lucrecia, Vincent looked up at Sephiroth; his brow creasing pensively. “That’s not true.” He bore his eyes into Sephiroth, mainly directing his energy towards the entity he knew was striving for Sephiroth’s mind. “Professor Gast wasn’t like the others. And had you not been torn from Lucrecia, you would have known differently.” Vincent knew he couldn’t convince Sephiroth. But he wasn’t about to stand by and let Sephiroth dwell on lies, either.
It had long been Vincent’s desire to see Lucrecia smile once again; it was a strong as Lucrecia's desire to hold her son. Nevertheless, Vincent wasn’t naïve to think that bringing Sephiroth to Lucrecia could grant him that lovely smile. There was too much tension, too much sorrow and regret, and of course the issue of Jenova’s presence. If there was one individual who could understand Lucrecia’s heart, it was Vincent. Even if his love was one-sided, it didn’t matter. Her single most wanted desire was to see her son, and he would carry it out, even if it terrified him.
The cool misty cave winds gently brushed across Sephiroth’s hair and face as if guided by the woman’s voice. Regardless of Sephiroth’s harsh tone, the voice responded just as gently as before. Sephiroth… The words were a bit clearer this time, and the Ex-SOLDIER could begin to hear emotion riddling the feminine voice. Undertones of sorrow, perplexity, and bridled happiness could be heard. “Lucrecia,” Vincent quietly called to her beyond the crystal. “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.” He then briefly glanced over at Sephiroth with a wary eye. …This time… I won’t let you suffer. A bright light slowly began to form around the crystal, filling the cave like a flood of white. It caused Vincent to shield his eyes. The sound of soft shimmering crystals echoed in the cave as the woman’s figure began to once again take shape in front of them. Her body was encompassed with a hazy glow. Slowly but surely, the light faded away, revealing the woman standing near the base of the crystal, her silk white dress flowing free. Her hazel brown eyes were locked on Sephiroth; surfacing with all of the past years of regret in the form of tears. Silence fell between them for some time, until the woman seemed to find her voice again. “Is it really you… Sephiroth?” Tears streamed down both her cheeks. Sephiroth… her son. He was beautiful, powerful, and outwardly the pride of any mother. Her arms ached to hold him, but as a mother is want to do, she could sense the darkness resonating in him. She knew that she meant nothing to him, even if he was everything to her. She could sense the bitterness and hatred—all that Hojo had ever wanted for Sephiroth to become. Ultimately, he had won. Vincent remained silent, keenly watching them both in anticipation of anything, though challenged with the occasional reminder of the pain shooting down his abused lower body. Lucrecia finally shook her head, turning her gaze from Sephiroth to stare at the rocky ground. “How can I say I’m his true mother? Or any mother at all?” A pained furrow crossed Vincent’s brow as her words brought back every memory from that time. Lucrecia turned to look at Sephiroth once again, her heart aching every time she looked upon him. “Sephiroth,” her words tender and warm. “…It is true. I carried you in my womb. I gave birth to you. But I….” Her small hands clenched at her sides as more tears of horrible memories flooded into her mind. “Lucrecia—” Sensing where her words were headed, Vincent began to plead with her, but then held his peace, knowing he had to allow her to have closure. “If only I could have been a true mother to you. Someone to comfort and protect you, to shield you from pain…” Her voice softened into almost a whisper as she once again met Sephiroth’s eyes, seeing those eyes laden with cruelty and years of torment. “I’m not worthy of your forgiveness, and I do not ask for anything. But if you would grant me one thing…” Vincent looked up in confusion and held his breath as he listened. The woman in white took one small step forward, folding her hands over her chest pleadingly, her fingers trembling. What Lucrecia asked caused Vincent’s heart to stop. “…May I hold you? Just once?”
#.Cycle of Suffering#aonemanarmy#Phantomyre Roleplay#ff7 roleplay#((Drama queens everywhere. And for once it isn't Vincent this time.
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Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)
but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.
And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.
So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.
Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.
“Kon. I love you.”
Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”
“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”
Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’
So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.
Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”
Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”
Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”
Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.
“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one’d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”
Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.
“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.
Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”
Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.
This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.
I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.
Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”
Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”
#hmm. this was supposed to be a meta post idk what happened.#(that’s a lie ik what happened what happened is I love timkon vv much)#anyway pls ignore timeline inconsistency if DC gets to fuck up their own timeline for story reasons then so can I#it’s about the queer need to have control of your appearance and how the world sees you#it’s about the intimacy of doing someone else’s hair care#it’s about being VULNERABLE by letting someone you love see and care for the parts of you you don’t like and/or can’t control#dcu#dc comics#tim drake#conner kent#kon-el#timkon#superboy/robin#superboy/robin: world’s finest three#world’s finest three#robin 181#teen titans (2003) 24
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here's a little snippet from a fic i probably wont ever finish but may repurpose into something else
He curls his legs into his chest and presses the warm glass of his phone screen to his ear. With his free hand, he drags his fingers across the rough, night cold grit of the stone beneath them, just to feel the scratch against his skin. Little grits of sand and moss lift up and stick in the whorls of his fingerprints as his phone rings once, twice, three times–
“Evan? Are you okay”
Tommy’s voice is drowned out a little by the distant but unmistakable sound of chopper blades whirring to a stop. It’s only 6pm in L.A. and Tommy is still on shift.
“Shit, you’re at work. Sorry. I forgot about the time difference. I’m fine I–”
“It’s okay. We just got back from a call, just give me a second to get somewhere quieter and I can talk.”
Buck considers telling him it’s fine, that he’s fine, that his crisis can wait till Tommy isn’t at the tail-end of a 24 but the problem with that is that he wants. And maybe he’s selfish and childish and all the terrible things his parents think he is but maybe Tommy wants, too.
Because Tommy answered his call.
“Okay, I’m in the bunks now. How are you? How are your parents?”
“I'm good.” A lie. “My parents are fine. How they usually are.” The painful truth.
A semi truck speeds by, blaring its horn at nothing, headlights cutting through the dusty blue evening.
“How are they usually?”
Mean, Buck wants to say. Careless, oblivious, belittling. Maddie always says they’re not bad people, just bad parents, and he has always parroted it back. He feels like he’s said it so often that it had just become true, but at the time he hadn’t been around them. It was easier to put on some rose-coloured glasses and pretend that things were better than they actually were, or at least less painful.
“I don’t think they like me very much.” Maybe it’s too honest but he finds the more they talk, the more he wants to be honest with Tommy. Some wicked part of him thinks that maybe if he shows this man the ugly, jealous rot of his insides, that he’ll leave before it hurts too much. That it won’t be like Abby, who he’d thought he loved, or Taylor who he knew he did.
His parents loved Daniel, and how fucked up is it that he’s jealous of someone whose dead. Then again, maybe they're more alike than he thought because yes, they had loved him, but they erased him too. They scrubbed their lives clean of him, threw out his things and painted over the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Maybe the only difference is that Buck is still alive.
“Yeah?” Tommy says, a little probing but kind. Buck knows that if he dropped it, if he moved on to something lighter, that Tommy would let him.
“They repainted my room” He knows it's ridiculous as soon as it comes out of his mouth.
“They didn’t tell you they were going to?” Tommy asks, like this is a completely normal thing for an adult man to be upset about.
“No, they didn’t say anything. They threw out all my stuff too. Not that there was a lot there, but stil–”
“They should have at least given you the opportunity to come get what you wanted to keep.”
“Yeah, exactly!” He says with a chuckle. “I mean, I’m pretty sure my skateboard was still in the closet up there. They’re not cheap, you know.”
“You skateboard?” Tommy asks. Buck swears that he can hear the smile in his voice.
“I used to, sort of. I'm pretty sure I spent more time falling off than actually riding.”
“God, you were a total punk in high school, weren’t you?” Tommy laughs. It’s nice, like warm honey settling low in Buck’s stomach.
“Oh, definitely. I think I spent most of my childhood injured in one way or another.” It’s hard for him, looking back, to find a memory that doesn’t include bandages or a cast or a sling of some kind.
“You know, considering that the first time we met was flying a helicopter into a hurricane, I’m really not surprised to find out that you’re incredibly reckless with your own safety.”
“I had a motorcycle, too. Got it basically as soon as I learned how to drive.”
“God, Evan.” His voice is still tinged with amusement. It floors him a little, how Tommy had managed to steer the conversation away from his morose family musings toward something lighter. It makes Buck want to run through every time he’s ever almost died. Chase away the amusement and ruin this on purpose before he does it by accident.
“Does it bother you?”
“Depends on why you're doing it.” Tommy doesn’t ask what he means, doesn’t need to. Buck wonders if he can smell his insecurities through the phone line. He waits for Tommy to continue.
“Every time you go into work, you put yourself in dangerous situations to save lives. So do I. That’s the job.” Buck can hear some shifting from Tommy’s end, tries to imagine him sitting on the edge of one of the bunks at the Harbour station, phone pressed against his ear. Maybe he’s gotten more comfortable, lying down, eyes closed as he tries to get a little bit of rest between calls. They shouldn’t be having this conversation over the phone, but the thought of having to do this in person, to have to look Tommy in the eyes and ask to be soothed, sends a chill through him that's much stronger than the one caused by the rapidly cooling evening air.
Some kind of sports car speeds by, music thundering through the closed windows as it slows around the corner and disappears.
“But being reckless with your life because the only time you felt like your parents looked after you was when you were hurting? Yeah, that bothers me.”
And there it is, The Breaking Point. He’s found a way to push Tommy too far. Tommy, who’d already given him far more chances than he deserved.
“I mean, I’m familiar with shitty parents, believe me, but if I made my kid feel so unloved that they thought they had to hurt themselves to get my attention, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.”
Huh.
That’s unexpected.
“Evan?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here.” There is another beat of silence.
“Sorry, if I overstepped. I didn’t mean-”
“You didn’t.” Buck says, definitively. “I’ve just never really had anyone see it like that?”
“Like what? What do you mean?”
“Like my reckless behaviour isn’t some sort of defect of my personality. Like maybe, I was hurting, too."
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I often see people refer to whump as "torture porn" but those views seem to dismiss the catharticism of writing these things for people who write whump to recover from their experiences(not that you have to be traumatized in order to write whump). I guess I'm just curious about your opinion on that?
I think this has been in my inbox for 2.5 years so I’m sorry that I’m just getting to this now XD
I’ve also seen it whump referred to as “torture porn”… my ex-husband was one of those people. When people would ask him what I wrote, he would say “oh, you know, torture porn. Or at least, what I’ve read of it. I don’t read pretty much any of it…”
He’s a winner.
And while I think torture porn is its own genre that I’m not here to bash, I agree that the two are quite different!
I think you hit the nail right on the head with the idea of catharsis. To me whump taps into the desire for connection that we all have, and a really good way to forge strong connections through people is with shared suffering. Sharing suffering, and relieving suffering. There also is quite a lot of fantasy fulfillment when it comes to whump as well.
Now the uninitiated might look at the things we write, with the blood and torture and pain, and go, who the fuck would fantasize about that?
(A lot of people, but there’s also an emotional fantasy aspect to it as well.)
In life, you go through a lot on your own. Suffering is boring, and pointless, and isolating. But what if there was someone there to patch you up after? What if you were suffering for the greater good? What if our suffering was noticed? What if people saw our suffering and wanted to save us? What if people saw our suffering and wanted to burn down the world to stop it from happening?
Ok, sure, maybe none of that is true. Maybe the story is nothing but suffering, and the character is completely alone from start to finish.
But we all gather and read and say, now doesn’t that mean something? Don’t we all feel connected? Don’t we all feel something?
What if our pain was this meaningful?
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I have been obsessed, thinking about your LI in Dragon age The Veilguard. How they cope with Rook being gone, especially Emmrich, who is supposed to be the fade expert.
What does he do when he can’t use his knowledge to save the one he loves?
So I wrote some angst about it. With a kind ending because I’m not completely heartless!
The idea to craft another dagger is borne of pure desperation. He knows it’s unlikely to work, but he has to try something. Sitting around is out of the question. The team is desperate for any type of direction, any sort of hope, and Emmrich quickly begins handing down a list of items he needs.
He and Harding go to Isana Negat. It’s full of darkspawn and blight, but it’s the only place he knows they have a chance of finding Lyrium pure enough to begin. He can’t even touch the glowing substance directly, has to ask Harding to carry it for him, but it doesn’t matter. He knows Rook would do whatever it took to save him.
She wasn’t supposed to die before him. Not after that ridiculous fight they had. Not after everything he still wants to say, all the adventures they had yet to have. The tears are so common now he barely notices when they start and stop, only becoming frustrated when they blur his vision and smudge his frantic writing.
Everyone tiptoes around him as he works, his once immaculate study is strewn with books and scribbles of half-formed theories on parchment. Even Taash is trying their best. They know all about things unsaid. How it tears you up inside.
Manfred has discovered that he is most useful tidying up and bringing tea. The others pass the skeleton material and food to bring to the distraught necromancer. Emmrich is much less likely to snap at his beloved skeleton friend.
Less being the operative word.
Most attempts to console him stop within the first two weeks.
He’s taken to carrying a chess piece with him. Stolen —borrowed, he reminds himself— from Rook’s own set. There are indents in his palm from worrying the wooden castle and it’s not enough but it’s all he has.
He’s exhausted, his hands are burned and raw from collapsed spells and the proximity to this much pure Lyrium. Even those cut off from the fade, the dwarves and the tranquil, cannot be near this much pure Lyrium for extended periods. For a mage as studied as he is, it’s pure and focused misery to even be in the same room. Agonizing enough that he, too, wishes he could be cut from his nightmares. Sleep is fleeting, painful, and filled with images of Rook, promising to speak with him after the mission.
The physical pain ebbs once the last of the sealing spells settle and make the dagger safe to handle with bare hands. Contact with the blade still feels like electricity beneath his skin, but it’s static and not the lightning he has been battling for days now.
Lucanis brings him coffee and offers assistance, but the Crow can’t help. Not with this. The assassin gets to hold his beloved Neve close, and Emmrich feels the loss of Rook and Bellara both so keenly it’s hard to keep upright.
So when Lucanis suggests he rest. That he take a break while Rook, his Rook, is in the fade… he snaps.
The mage lights in his room flicker, letting the red of the fade bleed through. The uncontrolled magic whips the papers in his room into a frenzied whirlwind. He hasn’t lost control like this since his magic first manifested, and when Lucanis reaches for his dagger out of instinct, a dark part of him wonders how far he would have to push to get the assassin to end his suffering.
The surge of magic comes to an abrupt end when strong arms tighten around him. Like a candle blown out, the wind dies and the lights shift back to cancel out the red hue. It takes a moment for his sluggish mind to wrap around the idea that Lucanis, a notorious mage killer, and recent God-killer, is hugging him.
“Emmrich. I am sorry, but this has to stop. When Rook comes back, I am not going to get my ass handed to me for letting you work yourself to death.”
Of course. His Rook is the picture of kindness. Of caring. How many times has he received a gentle chiding to let things lie until the morning? If his love knew how he was pushing himself…
And the picture in his mind is so wildly clear, of Rook dealing out a tongue lashing so severe as to make a man who killed a God cower, that he breaks in two.
Emmrich’s composure crumbles and he sobs as Lucanis holds him. All of the emotions he’s been holding back from pure exhaustion, using work to push everything else back… it all comes out and the Crow before him understands what it’s like.
They stay there for a while, until the older man stops shaking. Emmrich goes to wipe his tears and finds more beard growth than he has ever allowed in his adult life. How long has he been here, agonizing? Surely it has only been days and not weeks.
Lucanis’s voice is rough as he speaks. “Go and lay down, my friend.” The assassin clears his throat and the guilt in his eyes is as impossible to miss as the redness of held back tears. He clasps Emmrich on the shoulder. “Neve has an idea about the enchantments on the dagger, now that it’s safe to handle. I’ll have a cup of coffee and food ready when you wake up. Then you can shave that thing off of your face so Rook can actually recognize you when we save her.“
“Lucanis… thank you. I apologize for my outburst earlier.”
“Don’t thank me, I just drew the short straw. I can not prove it, but I’m sure Taash cheated,” he says with a small amount of forced levity. Lucanis moves to leave and then pauses, sighing deeply to add, “And… It could have been Neve. Rook saved her. Maker forgive me for being grateful, but I owe Rook too many debts not to save her now.”
The air is lighter than it has been in days as the dagger leaves his room. Emmrich does, indeed, go to lay down. Thankfully he only feels the crushing weight of guilt for this break for a single moment before his exhausted mind shuts down.
As always, his dreams are harried. Visions of Rook running, shattered statues of Bellara and Davrin swirling around her as she climbs an endless spiral staircase.
When he wakes, it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, but it’s too long. Lucanis keeps his word, and there is food and coffee waiting for him. He doesn’t taste it, only eats so that his magic is at full capacity.
His appearance in the mirror is worse than he feared. Haggard and dingy. There’s a moment where he considers using magic to clean up his beard, but remembers how he lectured Rook on the importance of rituals, and so he retrieves his brush and razor.
He’s halfway through his bath when he catches the thread of an idea. It unspools beautifully, and he’s barely able to wrap a towel around his waist before he has a quill in his hand, still dripping water across the floor. If he could… yes!
A wild idea, but he has to try. His usually immaculate handwriting is long gone, and he manages to dress as the idea finishes coalescing. He grabs the parchment, ink barely dry, and runs into the library, calling for the remnants of the Veilguard.
They look at him with confusion as he explains, but he’s not sure if the explanation is beyond their depth or if he’s raving like a madman, but they gear up to support him anyway.
Lucanis gently points out that his shirt isn’t buttoned correctly, and Taash suggests that he doesn’t smell as he usually does, and that perhaps his cologne might help Rook find him.
He very nearly launches into an explanation of fade physics and the chemical composition of scent and its inability to travel through a non physical space, but thankfully realizes the comment for the sentiment it was meant to carry.
The chess piece sits on his desk as they set out to find their Rook.
When her hand clasps his arm through the fade tear, when she tumbles on top of him and knocks the air from his lungs, he swears to never let her go again.
Emmrich has never considered himself a selfish man, but he keeps a hand on Rook. On his Rook as she reorients herself. As she recounts how she escaped a prison built for Gods.
He knows he should let her rest. Knows she needs time to recover, but he takes her to the necropolis anyway. He recognizes her indomitable spirit, has acquainted himself with the differences between those living and otherwise, but he has to be certain that this Rook is the one he fell in love with and not some spirit that has taken her form.
And once he is, he pulls her close, apologizing profusely, through tears at times, for how long it took to find her. And she forgives him, because of course she does. And he kisses her as though it is the first and last time.
Thankfully, she seems just as desperate to assure herself that he’s here as well. Through the heat and sweat of mortal embrace, they pass what could possibly be their last night alive in the comfort of each other’s arms.
#dragon age#DAV#da veilguard#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#da4 emmrich#dragon age emmrich#angst#little bit of hurt/comfort#this has been rattling in my brain like dice for days
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Fading Harmony - P. Sunghoon
syp : you and sunghoon have been secretly dating for years now but as the groups popularity soars, the pressure of fame sunghoon’s demanding schedule takes a toll on the relationship.
warnings : none really, short story, not proof-read
genre : angst, breakup
___
the city lights in seoul twinkled like stars as you stood on the rooftop, the cool air swishing past your face making you inhale the city’s scent. you’ve been dreading and i mean dreading this conversation with your boyfriend, sunghoon.
the man who swore it would never come down to this. the man who kissed you and told you he would never leave you. the man who would be on your tail about why you took so long to respond to his messages at times. the man you would spend your life with. sunghoon.
as you were lost in your thoughts about your boyfriend the door to the rooftop creaked open, and sunghoon walked out, his eyes scanning the area until they locked into yours. your heart skipped a beat as he was walking towards you, his expression somber.
“hey,” he said softly, stopping infront of you as he plants a kiss on your forehead.
“hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your throat.
sunghoon took a deep breath before speaking, the city lights mapping out his handsome face. “i’ve been thinking…and i realized that with the fame of enhypen and the busy schedules i need to prioritize that right now and i’m sorry.”
“is that all i really am to you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “just something to prioritize or be pushed aside when things get busy?”
sunghoons eyes dropped, and he took a step back, as if he was retreating from the conversation. “that’s not fair” he said quietly. “you know how much you mean to me”
“then why are you doing this?” you demanded, feeling a surge of desperation. “why are you giving up on us”
sunghoon sighed, rubbing his temple trying to ward off a headache. “i’m not giving up on us, i just…i just need some space, okay? i need to focus on my music career, and i don’t know if i can do that with you by my side.”
the words cut deep into you like a knife, but you refused to give up. you took a step forward, reaching out to him. “sunghoon, please,” you say, voice cracking. “don’t do this. we can work through this together”
sunghoons eyes met yours and for a moment you saw a glimpse of hope. but then his expression hardened, and he shook his head. “i’m sorry.” he said, his voice forcefully firm. “i really am”
the words felt like a blow to your stomach, leaving you winded and gasping for air. you stumbled backwards feeling like you were drowning in a sea of despair.
as you turn to leave, sunghoon called out. “wait,” he said, his voice soft. “please don’t go like this”
you turn back to him, feeling a surge of anger and hurt. “what do you want from me, sunghoon? you’re breaking up my heart and you’re asking me to stay?”
sunghoon eyes dropped. “i just…don’t want to lose you.”
the words felt like a slap to your face. “you’re breaking up with me and you’re worried about losing me?” you repeated, feeling a surge of incredulity. “you’re the one who’s pushing me away, sunghoon.”
as you turn to walk away from sunghoon, feeling horrible, you felt a sharp pain go through your chest. grabbing it you continued to walk towards the door on the rooftop, tears fall down your cheek uncontrollably. you could hear a faint sniffle from sunghoon that just makes you want to run back and tell him you love him even when the choices got tough.
but as you walked, you felt a spark determination ignite within you. you will survive this break up, you will move in from this break up. and you would never forget the love you guys shared amongst each other, the love that had broken your heart into a million pieces.
more tears welled up in your eyes and as you procressed everything maybe, just maybe, you both could find a way back to each other in the future, someday.
but for now, you had to let him go.
#engene#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen#kpop x reader#enha fluff#enha scenarios#kpop enha#kpop enhypen#kpop fluff#sunghoon#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x you#sunghoon enha#strwbrryh00n#enhypen sunghoon#angst#enhypen angst
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Rose asks her crazy father for a favor to help her secret boyfriend (future ao3 fic)
Rose sat on the couch in her duplex apartment, her mouth agape in disbelief as she listened to the story of how Jason had died and then been revived.
She had always been curious about the details but was hesitant to ask, worried about stepping on a landmine. Their relationship was still new, and she wanted to ensure Jason didn’t feel pressured to share anything he wasn’t ready to discuss.
Yet, as he recounted everything he remembered, she could see that, despite the pain of the experience, he didn’t resent reliving it. He seemed to find a certain catharsis in sharing his story, and she felt honored that he chose to open up to her.
Rose (stunned): That's… how you died?
Jason nodded quickly recovering from retelling the story by chuckling.
Jason: The craziest part was stepping out of the Lazarus Pit covered in—wait, why do you look mad?
Rose (fixating on one detail): That bitch egg donor sold you out to the Joker to save her own skin?!
Jason (laughing dryly): Yeah, pretty much. She’s not around anymore. She wasn’t exactly the best mom to the bitter end. Honestly, it was stupid of me to even go see her that night.
Rose frowned softly, covering her mouth in disbelief.
Rose (reassuringly): Jace, it’s not your fault you were deceived by someone so terrible. I’m sorry for insulting her, but that infuriates me—along with the fact of your death itself. The whole situation makes me so mad.
Jason chuckled, rubbing his forehead.
Jason: You’re fine, trust me. It’s crazy to think about dying, but I’ve managed to adjust to this new life pretty well.
Rose (sincerly): You really have.
She exhaled, gently rubbing the top of Jason’s hand. He smiled in response.
Rose (holding back her anger): But the Joker is still… alive and walking? Not okay with that.
Jason: That’s a whole different mess. I don’t want to think about him right now; sorry for unloading so much on you.
Rose (smiling softly): It’s fine, I asked. I showed you my missing eye, and in return, you gave me a detailed account of your death. And if you want, I can take care of him for you since Batman won’t.
Jason chuckled, quickly pressing a kiss to Rose's cheek.
Jason: Nah, his misery is enough for me.
Rose (with a mischievous glint in her eyes): His misery is enough? I like the way you think.
She leaned in closer, kissing him passionately as she pushed him down onto the couch.
Jason (sly smile): That turned you on?
Rose (whispering near his ear): Are you turned on?
Jason (blushing): I definitely am now.
Rose smiled, deepening the kiss as she felt the chemistry between them simmer. With a carefree motion, she tossed aside his shirt and kissed him again, all while her mind began weaving a plot for revenge against the Joker.
Later That Night
Slade Wilson, aka Deathstroke, sat in his prison cell, engrossed in Shawshank Redemption.
Slade (towards the end of the book): Huh, he dug a hole in the wall? Amateur.
He chuckled softly, continuing to read when his prison cell phone rang. Without bothering to check the caller ID, he answered.
Slade: Go for Deathstroke.
Rose (whispering): Death—Sla—Da—Nope… Father, yeah, that works. Father, I have a request that you definitely won’t turn down.
Slade's interest piqued as he continued to read.
Slade: I’m listening.
Rose: The Joker’s in Arkham with you. I need you to beat him to a bloody pulp. He probably won’t die easily, but avoid killing him. I want him to suffer, but live. I’ll bring you muffins when I visit next week.
Slade snapped the book shut, excitement coursing through him as he stood up.
Slade (pumped up): I’d do that regardless of a reward! Regardless! You’re not joking about him not dying, either. I saw someone push him off the railing near the stairs, and that clown jumped to his feet while laughing. I will smash his face to a pulp regardless! Guard! Bring me my brass knuckles! Code J!
Rose (sighing happily): Thank you.
Slade: No problem, Jeri— No wait, he can't talk. Which child are you?
Rose paused, recalling who her father was and recognizing that this behavior was just typical of him—even during her time as his loyal, brainwashed agent. She mentally noted to bring this up during her "sucky dad" contest with Raven later.
Rose: It's Rose.
Slade fell silent as he slipped on his brass knuckles, genuinely unsure who this was, even though this was his other child that was alive.
Rose (pinching the bridge of her nose): I cut my working eye out for you.
Slade: Oh! The one who proved her loyalty to me. Got it… Daughter? Right, Rose is my daughter. Just remember to bring me blueberry muffins on visitors' day.
Rose: You don’t want to hear the reason behind—
Slade (with a hint of hatred for the Joker in his tone): Rose, regardless!
Rose: Cool, thanks. Loyal to ya.
Slade (with a cocky grin): I know you are.
With that, he abruptly ended the call and strode out of his cell.
Slade: Hey, jester man! Get over here!
Meanwhile at Rose's House
Rose ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction.
Rose (whispering to herself): Thank God he hasn’t realized I hate his guts. I really am such a good person.
Jason: You done with the call? I’m getting cold in here; come back to bed.
Rose smiled as she let her robe fall to the floor and headed back to her room. She closed the door quietly behind her, determined to keep her plan to punish the Joker in prison a secret from Jason—until the moment felt just right to reveal it.
#jayrose ship#jayrose#rose wilson#jason x rose#rose x jason#jason and rose#rose and jason#jason todd#red hood#ravager#batman#batfamily funny#batfamily#batfamily shenanigans#batfamily fluff#flash fiction#batfamily comedy#batfamily headcanons#script fic#dc fanfiction#batfamily fanfiction#batfamily adventures#writers on tumblr#microfiction#canon divergence#writer of ao3#no beta we die like jason todd#some ooc#dc stands for disregard canon
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Do you really think that saying you don't want your work to get put through ai is enough to stop people?
Because it definitely didn't stop me
hi anon,
you caught me on a good day today so i’m going to respond to you.
last night it snowed in my part of the world so i woke up to a wonderfully wintery scene of bare trees against weak silvery sunlight and a light dusting of snow over the hills and valleys. it was really beautiful.
then i had myself a large coffee and a pain au chocolat because i’m learning to eat breakfast regularly now. i warmed the pain au chocolat in my oven for 5 minutes so the inside was all gooey. i may dunk on the french on a semi-regular basis but my god they know the way to a happy life is through buttery pastry.
as i was enjoying the last mouthful of my pain au chocolat, i checked tumblr to see that my friends had posted some wonderful fics and art during our time zone differences and i was blown away by the sheer creativity and talent of these wonderful people. truly i am so lucky to live in a world where they express and share their ideas with me! isn’t that great?
then i checked my askbox to see that you had decided to be mean. admittedly, this made me sad for a little bit. not angry. not disheartened. just sad.
i’m sorry that you find me so unapproachable (even on anon) that you resorted to using ai to generate a mediocre copy of my works instead of reaching out with a message that might inspire me to write more. i’m sorry that you don’t have a solid group of loving weirdos to be creative with so that you feel confident enough to share your own ideas. and mostly i’m sorry that you feel so awful within yourself that you felt the urge to share that feeling with me instead of looking for a positive interaction.
as i’m in a good mood after a very successful day (i handled some dogs at a breed club event and won some ribbons), i’m just going to wish you all the best with finding something that brings you joy. and also maybe encourage you to get off the internet for a bit.
good luck out there!
#pfh answers#i can’t stop you from ignoring my boundaries#but i can hope that you’ll choose to be a kinder person in the future#also i know you were dying for a response - preferably an angry one - but my day has been wonderful#so i just don’t have it in me to be needlessly cruel on the internet#unlike you
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Vi x Reader - I Love You, I'm Sorry
masterlist!
“Really, Vi?” You practically spat, face to face with a girl you thought you knew. “You’re running with the enforcers now? Since when were you a bluebelly?”
The grimace on her face was set in firm lines, hard and unyielding and so unlike the Vi you once knew. This was her—same powder blue eyes, same fiery pink hair, same cheekbones, same lip shape, but your Vi would never betray you like this.
“This is for you, this is for Zaun,” god, even the words tasted like a lie on her tongue, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Jinx is a danger to us both topside and here in the undercity. You should know that!”
“Is that the lie you’re telling yourself to justify this!?” You were practically vibrating with anger, fists clenched tightly at your sides. “I loved you, Vi. What are you doing?”
Vi’s face twisted, a crack of pain breaking through her tough facade. “I—” she started, but her words fell apart.
The silence that stretched between you felt louder than the pounding of your heart. You could barely breathe, your chest heaving with rage, disbelief, and heartbreak.
“You loved me? Don’t you dare use that in the same breath as selling me out,” you snapped, stepping closer to her. You didn’t care about the enforcer shadowing her, a step behind with one hand hovering near her weapon. All you could see was Vi, standing there with a badge at her hip and gilt in her eyes. “I trusted you. You swore you’d never betray us. Never betray me.”
“This isn’t about betrayal!” Vi shot back, her voice trembling as she raised her hands, trying to calm you or herself—you couldn’t tell. “This is about stopping you before it’s too late. You’ve gone too far, Y/n. The arson, the—” she hesitated, jaw tightening. “The murders. Working with—”
“With Silco!?” You laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “That’s what she told you, isn't it?” You gestured sharply to the enforcer—Caitlyn—her perfect Piltover uniform untouched by the grime of Zaun. “Let me guess, she spun some story about me being a terrorist, and you just ate it up because she’s got a fancy accent and a badge.”
“That’s not—” Vi started, but Caitlyn’s voice cut through her hesitation.
“She’s dangerous, Vi. You know that.” Caitlyn’s tone was level, professional, but her gaze flicked to you with a mix of wariness and disdain. “We need to bring her in—now.”
“Jinx and I have done more for this city than you ever could! We’ve brought hope back to Zaun and you’re trying to rip it to shreds! What about my parents? What about your parents!” Your heart cracked, splintering into sharp, jagged pieces. You took another step forward, daring Vi to stop you. “So, what’s it going to be, Vi? Do you believe her?” You pointed at Caitlyn. “Or me?”
Vi hesitated, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the girl you fell in love with. The girl who once fought for Zaun, for her family, for you. But then she looked at Caitlyn, and everything shattered.
“I love you,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”
The words hit you like a blow to the chest. Your vision blurred, not from tears—no, you wouldn’t cry—but from a red-hot fury that burned through your veins. “No,” you growled, voice low and venomous. “Don’t you dare say that to me. You don’t get to say you love me and choose a Piltie over me.”
“Y/n,” Vi said, stepping toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head.
“Stay the hell away from me,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “You’re no better than the blue bellies who raided Zaun and tore our families apart. You’re just like them. You’re a traitor.”
The words cut deep—you saw it in the way Vi flinched, the way her hand wavered before falling uselessly to her side. But you didn’t care. Let her feel a fraction of th pain she had inflicted on you.
Caitlyn stepped forward then, gun in hand. “Surrender peacefully, or this ends the hard way.”
A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “You think I’m going down without a fight?” Your hands flexed at your sides, ready to grave the blade hidden beneath your coat. You knew it wasn’t a fair fight—two against one, with Caitlyn’s hextech rifle and Vi’s hextech fists—but you didn’t care. If this was how it ended, you’d make them work for it.
The fight erupted in a blur of movement. Caitlyn fired, but you ducked, the bullet ricocheting off a metal pipe. You lunged at Vi, and for a moment, your fists collided with hers—like old times, but with none of the playfulness, none of the love.
“Y/n, stop!” VI shouted, blocking your strikes. Her voice was desperate, pleading. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Funny, because you already have,” You snarled, landing a blow that sent her stumbling back. But Caitlyn was there, quick and efficient, slamming the butt of her rifle into your side. Pain exposed in your ribs, but you didn’t falter.
You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
It wasn’t long before they overwhelmed you. Caitlyn had you pinned, her knee digging into your back as she cuffed your hands. Vi stood over you, blood dripping from a cut above her eyebrow, her expression a mix of anguish and regret.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, struggling against the cuffs. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.”
“I—” Vi started, but you cut her off.
“You made your choice,” you spat. “You chose her. You chose Piltover. You chose everything you once swore to hate. And for what? A badge? A chance to play hero?” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Screw you, Vi.”
Her face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears in her eyes. But you didn’t care. Let her cry. Let her feel the weight of what she’d done.
As Caitlyn hauled you to your feet, you fixed Vi with a glare, your voice cold and unyielding. “You’re dead to me, Vi. Don’t ever forget that.”
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If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!
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