#ah yes the two childhood traumas: having a good time and loving your family and Jesus
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I like both. because one is spooky and fun and dangerous and I get to scare my less macabre friends. and one is beautiful and meaningful and I get presents and to spend happy time with my family and our church has a candlelight service and there are many memories related to it.
I am calling for a total and complete ban on tiktok pop psychology until we can figure out what the hell is going on
#ah yes the two childhood traumas: having a good time and loving your family and Jesus#no shade to non-jesus people
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emergency contact — m.tkachuk
a/n: a random fic that I finally finished!!
word count: 2.4K
You groaned, the buzzing from your phone was stirring you from your sleep, it was nearly three am. No one would call you this early for no reason, so you suddenly came to your senses, scrambling to answer it. “Hello, hello.” You rushed, hardly getting to it in time. “Is this Y/F/N?” The lady’s voice came across delicately which only caused your heart rate to pick up. “Yes.” You sat up in the bed, flipping your lamp on as she began speaking across the line. “My name is Diane, I’m calling from St. Alexius Hospital, your brother, Matthew has been brought in from a car accident, you were listed as his emergency contact.” She explained, you flew out of the bed, “is he ok?” You were rushing around, pulling on whatever clean clothes you could find first. “He’ll be fine, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details over the phone.” She spoke calmly, you nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see you. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You quickly hung up, yanking your jeans on in a rush, you forced any nervous thoughts to the back of your mind. He would be fine, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself, he was the only family you had left, he had to be fine.
Your feet carried you into the hospital emergency room before your mind could catch up, you reached the counter and blankly stared for a moment, you read her name tag, Diane. “I’m Y/F/N, I’m here to see-” “Ah, yes, for Matthew?” She cut you off, flipping through the papers on her desk. “Room 113.” She pointed you down the hall, and you were off, speed walking down the hall, your shoes sounding loud against the linoleum floor in the early morning. 109, 110, 111, 112, you froze outside of his room, clearly it couldn’t have been that bad if he was alone. You heard a groan from inside the room and you came to your senses, you pushed the curtain aside, “Matthew.” You whispered, and then looked up, the stranger in the bed looking at you with raised eyebrows. “You’re not my brother.” You gasped, and then realized you were standing in his room still, “I’m so sorry, uh, feel better.” You saw the cast on his arm and a bruise forming just under his eyes. “I’m not complaining.” He mumbled with a lazy smile, it captivated you, the way his blue eyes lit up as you smiled back at him. “But no I’m not, my name is Matthew though.” He muttered, coughing lightly, reaching for the water, it was just out of his reach so you walked over and handed it to him. “Here you go.” You whispered, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the cup, “I have to go, I-I’m here to see my brother.” You gave him a smile, going to rush out of the room but as you turned, Diane came running in, out of breath.
“There was a mix up, I’m so sorry.” She rushed, Matthew looking between you and her, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Is my brother even here?!” You snapped, relieved but angry at the same time. She shook her head and you scrambled to pull your phone out of your pocket, dialing your brother’s number. You bounced on your feet as it rang and rang, “Y/N? Why are you calling so late?” He grumbled into the phone, “Matthew!” You cried in relief, “you’re ok?” You asked, “of course I’m ok, why wouldn’t I be?” He sounded confused, “nothing, uh, it’s a long story, I’ll call you later.” You hung up, arms crossed as you glared at Diane. “Miss Y/L/N, I am so sorry.” She apologized again, you could only nod weakly. “I’m so sorry, uh, Matthew.” You turned to the guy in the bed, he had to be right around your age. “I really hope you feel better.” And with that, you rushed out the door, over run by the emotions you just went through.
That was almost a week ago.
Five days if we’re being specific.
“Mom is going to kill me if she finds out I let you drive.” You tuned into the conversation a girl was having with what you could only assume is her brother from the way she spoke to him. You kept your eyes focused down on the cup of coffee and laptop before you, but your ears perked up. “That’s why she isn’t going to find out, right Taryn?” He quipped back at her, you couldn’t fully place it but his voice had an oddly familiar tone. Not one that you knew well, but as if you had heard it before. You continued typing away on your laptop, forcing yourself to stop eavesdropping on their conversation, a message came up on your screen and you became so engrossed in it that you didn’t even notice as Matthew walked past your table with a small gasp, dragging his sister along.
“That’s her!” He whispered to his sister, who only looked at him confused, “that’s the girl from the hospital.” He groaned, running a hand through his curly hair. Only making it look messier. Taryn glanced at you, and at him, then back and forth once more. “You couldn’t pull her.” She teased him, earning a light flick to the arm from him. “I totally could!” He defended, panicking when your head popped up, you glanced around but didn’t notice him. “Well aren’t you going to go say something?” Taryn nudged him, taking his coffee from his not broken arm, and setting it down beside hers on the table. “What am I going to say? ‘Oh hey, not sure if you remember me but you barged into my hospital room last week because you thought I was your brother’? That’s not going to work.” He rambled, too caught up in his own words to notice his sister walking towards you until it was too late. She simply sat across from you, making your body jump back.
“Uh, hello?” You spoke hesitantly, sliding your laptop closer to you, eyeing the random girl skeptically. “Hi, my name is Taryn, I think you met my brother, Matthew over there, in the hospital last week?” She smiled politely at you, pointing to the corner of the cafe were you turned and saw Matthew looking over with wide eyes and pink cheeks, he offered a small wave, wincing when he used the arm in a cast. You giggled under your breath, waving back, “I did.” You confirmed, “I’m Y/N.” You added, turning back to Taryn, “well you see, he hasn’t really shut up about you since then, he thinks you’re really pretty, so I figured I’d come try and help him have a chance to talk to you.” She explained with a grin, occasionally glancing at her brother, who you could only assume had turned more red. “I’d love to talk to him.” You assured her, slowly closing your laptop, holding back a large smile when she grinned, rushing off, you heard them bickering before Matthew approached, awkwardly sitting where his sister just was. “Hi.” He hadn’t struck you as one to be shy when you first met him, “hi.” You repeated, leaning back in your seat. “How’s the arm?” You teased, glancing down to his cast. “It’s getting there.” He shrugged, looking up and meeting your eyes. “I’m really glad they called you.” He added, ah, there’s the confidence you were looking for. You rested your elbows on the table, holding your chin lightly in your hand, “are you?” You cocked your head to the side, smiling as he blushed.
“I am.” He confirmed, placing his phone up on the table, “so why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll take you out to dinner.” He spoke softly, a small hint of nervousness to his voice. “You know, as payment for emotional trauma at the very least.” He joked, earning a genuine laugh from you. “I think that sounds fair.” You picked up his phone, adding yourself to his contacts. “Good thing I’m the only Y/N you know.” You handed him his phone, smiling as his fingers brushed yours, it sounded cliche, and you hated to even think it, but even the simple touch sent your heart into a frenzy. “Mhm, good thing.” He agreed, staying seated, “you know, if we kept talking this could almost be like a first date.” He raised an eyebrow, you noticed the small smirk on his lips. “I think I can spare some time.” You smiled sweetly at him, diving into conversation. You both covered a lot of things, from work, which caught you off guard for sure when you heard what he does, to family, all the way down to embarrassing childhood stories.
“Alright, I’ve waited as long as I can wait, Matty, we need to go.” Taryn interrupted, looking down at her brother from where he was still sitting, you checked the time on your phone and you were embarrassed to see it had been nearly two hours. “Oh my god, Taryn, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, Matthew smiling at the interaction as his sister brushed it off. “It’s fine.” She turned back to him, who was lost in his happiness, “so, Matty.” You teased, gathering your things, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” You stood up, pushing your purse onto your shoulder, he followed, standing in front of you, he ducked down to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’ll definitely be hearing from me.” He smirked, walking off with his sister while you blushed furiously, he glanced back and you shot him a wink, you two were made for each other.
“So, tomorrow?”
You giggled at your phone as you walked to your car, already getting a message from him. You bit your lip as you smiled, typing a quick response to leave him on his toes while you drive home.
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
You put your phone on silent to avoid getting distracted while you drove, but you could tell it vibrated a couple of times on the seat. It felt like forever until you got home, but once you did, you and Matthew texted the rest of the day, setting up plans for you both to meet at a restaurant not too far from your house the next day.
You were a little nervous, just because first dates were always nerve wracking, but otherwise you were calm, you knew you’d have a good time. You smoothed out your pants, looking down at the printed material, you adjusted your tucked in lace camisole, tugging your cardigan on over top, a chic yet comfortable outfit, paired with some heeled boots. Your hair falling down your back in loose curls, you gave yourself one last adjustment before you made your way out the door, hoping you wouldn’t be too early, you wouldn’t want to ruin his manly pride.
You were excitedly surprised when you arrived and Matthew was already standing outside the restaurant waiting for you. “Hi, Matthew.” You called as you climbed out of your car, his head snapped up, a grin covering his face as a couple of his curls bouncing in front of his eyes. “Hey. You look great.” He met you in front of your car, his jacket hanging off on one side because of his cast. “Clean up nice yourself.” You replied with ease, “how’s your arm?” You added, lightly touching it where he had scribbled on it. A chuckle falling from your lips at the stick figure he’d left on it. “Better now.” He smirked, earning a snort in return, your hand shooting to your mouth. “Oh my god.” He broke into laughter, using his good arm to move your hand from your face, “that was equally cute and funny.”
“I’m glad you thought so.” You breathed out, giggling as he led you inside.
***
“Oh, Matty. She’s lovely, I’m so happy for you.” Chantal grinned, looking at the ring he had picked out for you. You’d been together for just over a year, you both fell quick and hard, you moving to Calgary with him halfway through the season. “Thanks mom.” He sighed in relief, it was the last few weeks of the off season, and it was a no brainer for you both to come back to St. Louis for the summer to see your families.
What you didn’t know, is that he ended up holding onto that ring for almost a year before asking you to marry him, two years to the day when you ran into his hospital room.
***
“Matty, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as you walked into the living room after your shower, in frumpy pajamas and a wet messy bun. You looked at the candles that were scattered around, and him in a pregame suit, despite there being no game tonight. “You can’t cry when I haven’t even said anything yet.” He whispered as you approached him in shock, he pulled the velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Matthew.” You gasped, cupping his bearded jaw, he wiped under your eyes lightly, “Y/N.” He murmured, lightly kissing your forehead before getting down on one knee.
“As much as I hate how that mix up in the hospital scared you that night, I’m so grateful for it, you were right in front of me that whole time in St. Louis, but I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for that.” He explained, popping the box open, you started nodding instantly, “ask me.” You begged. “Will you marry me?” He cut straight to it, grinning when you dropped down on your knees in front of him. You nodded furiously, holding his face in your hands, “yes. Oh my god, yes.” You pulled him in for a kiss, squealing in delight when he yanked you closer, “Mrs. Tkachuk sounds nice, doesn't it?”
***
You leaned in the doorway to your son's room, smiling as Matthew theatrically recalled your meeting story, your son, who was only four, looking up at his dad like he just told him how the earth spins. You giggled, making your presence known, you joined them on the floor, draping your legs over your husband’s lap, your son climbing onto yours, hugging you tightly as you played with his curly hair. “Is daddy telling your favorite story again?” You asked him, smiling when he nodded enthusiastically, “I really like that story too.” You told him, feeling Matthew squeeze your hip as your son giggled.
taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @leafs-forever
#Matthew Tkachuk#Matthew Tkachuk imagine#matthew Tkachuk imagines#matty Tkachuk#nhl fic#Calgary flames
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hey! how knowledgeable are you on stephanie brown? because i got in a bit of an argument with a dc fan on reddit who claims she's all these awful things, but im still relatively new to steph and i want to see what was true and what wasn't. link to screenie right here: https://ibb.co/vh6CYCJ
these may be matters of opinion, but even then, i'd like to know your take. i haven't read her firsthand often enough and i trust your judgement over this random redditor who seems to have some sort of blonde-woman related trauma left untapped.
I'm not necessarily the most knowledgable on her in the world, but I do know a decent amount because she's one of my absolute faves and I love her
But ohhhh boy that screenshot is a lot.
I will say that several of the things this person brings up are based in canon but are taken in the worst faith and framed in the way that makes her look as bad as possible, if that makes sense? It’s ripping things away from any context, because there's a very clear bias against her here.
I'll go through it point by point under the cut
First of all though before digging into this, I want to make it clear she was a 15 year old for the majority of the things this person is talking about. Like just pause for a second and remember she’s a 15 year old victim of abuse. That is something that I think factors into a lot of her behavior! Anyways, I kinda while doing this got into a ranty 'talking at you' format in response to the person who wrote all that, so don't take any of this as me yelling at you who asked the question/you anyone reading this.
"She always acted entitled" - Saying Steph is entitled is absolutely ridiculous to me. Stephanie grew up with a very unstable childhood due to her dad frequently being in prison and her mom dealing with a drug addiction, living in a lower class part of the city. Tim is entitled. I don’t mean that as like a bad thing about him, but he is based on his living situation, she is not. She has wanted life to be better for herself and her mom, and is determined about that, but she is not and does not act entitled.
(Secret Origins 80 Page Giant)
"and stubborn" - I will give you stubborn though, that one is true. She’s stubborn as hell! I don’t really see that as a bad thing though, pretty much every bat is stubborn?
"demanding that Batman and Robin accept her untrained ass" - Steph may have been untrained in fighting but she's shown to have exceptional gymnastics skills from the start, and at one point Bruce even says that with the right training she could be as good if not better than Tim (in Robin #88)! So like... her realizing she enjoys trying to be a hero after she tried it out to deal with her personal business, so she looks to the local experts… and is determined about it… how is that a bad thing? It’s also not like she walked up to them and said ‘im perfect as i am let me in’ what she wanted was a chance to be a hero. But she also wasn't even really looking for approval, either, not having Batman's blessing was never going to stop her. ("So excuse me if I don't jump when you bark, Batman." in Robin #16) Later when Bruce does bring her in to train (and she also gets to train with the BoP) she's excited! She’s stubborn about wanting to be in the hero business, but it’s not like she’s unwilling to work for it.
"advocating leaving criminals to die because they 'deserve it'" - She’s a 15 year old who grew up knowing firsthand how dangerous Gotham criminals can be because of her dad, of course off the bat when they’re in a dangerous situation where any of them could die (because that’s the context here, this is in Robin #35 where they’re trapped in some super dangerous snow) she thinks they shouldn’t go back for another criminal who just tried to kill them and should instead save themselves. But she also literally WITHIN THAT SAME ISSUE then says she realized she learned something after listening to Tim and trying to save the guy! In the same issue! Characters in a story aren’t supposed to be perfect from the start… they learn things along the way???
(Robin #35)
"trying to steal from the shops they just stopped from being burglarized" - She’s 15 and doesn’t have a ton of money. She was gonna take two sodas, and when Tim said not to do it she paid with very little fuss. They stopped people who were robbing the place at gunpoint for prescription drugs. If you can’t understand the difference in severity between those things like… I do not even know where to start. (this situation is in Robin #56 btw)
"forcing physical affection onto Tim despite his visible discomfort and repeated objections (not even stopping when he told her he had a girlfriend)" - This one I will give you because she did cross boundaries with all that! But I do also want to clarify that she didn't start coming onto him until after Tim kissed her first (in Robin #5) while not telling her he had a girlfriend. That doesn’t excuse her later actions but for the first issue that she’s coming onto him from her perspective he expressed interest and she was just returning it! She even specifically says 'Maybe I should pay you back for saving my life the same way you paid me' (in Robin #16) before kissing him. That first time she kissed him unprompted was under essentially the same circumstances he kissed her unprompted, and she literally did not know about Ariana until after the fact. From that point once she knew about Ari she definitely should have backed off and she didn’t, that’s a very fair thing to criticize about her as a character. But Tim lead her on first, and I feel a lot of people like to casually forget that when talking about this situation. The way this is phrased of ‘not even stopping when he told her-‘ implies she was repeatedly doing the bad behavior before he told her, which is not the case. She still did bad things here but don’t misrepresent the situation.
"And lashing out at Tim, her mother, and her classmates in violent fits of anger" - Every comic book character lashes out at other people for the sake of drama like, I dare you to come up with a well-known superhero character who hasn’t done shit like that to a partner/family/friends in a moment of high tension/stress?
"She treated the girls around her like they were stupid bitches" - frankly this ones a little too vague like, I'm not sure off the top of my head exactly what they're talking about? in that era right around her pregnancy and stuff I really don't recall her being mean with other girls? I could be forgetting something I guess but the closest I can think of is a bit after this period of time when she has the confrontation with Greta in Young Justice but that was Greta attacking her first, not the other way around.
"got insanely jealous if Tim so much as expressed concern about another girl" - Steph getting jealous and thinking Tim was cheating isn’t that crazy when STEPHANIE BASICALLY WAS THE OTHER GIRL DURING TIM’S LAST RELATIONSHIP? Tim has cheated a little bit before! Tim cheated on Ari with both Jubilee from Marvel (during a crossover thing where he even mentions Ari specifically so it’s not like this was out of continuity/a setting she wasn't an issue or something) and also with Steph. While most of the kissing between them was Steph coming onto Tim which I wouldn’t count as cheating on his end, he did still kiss her which I would count. Not to mention that the jealousy thing (I imagine they’re talking about the instance with Star, the girl who taught Tim to skateboard, this arc of stuff starts in Robin #80 and continues for a few issues) is happening during the time she’s dating him while she still doesn’t even know his real name. He literally has a whole other life she doesn’t know about, and is someone who has initiated romantic moments with other girls while in a relationship multiple times before! With that in mind I don’t think a 16 (she's def 16 by this point) year old girl being kinda paranoid about how he interacts with girls he might know in his civilian life is that unreasonable? The later big instance with jealousy is the Darla situation- where Steph sees Darla kiss him and gets mad about it (and doesn’t talk to him about it) and thats what prompts her to become Robin. The important thing to remember about Steph in this time frame is that DC decided she had to die and they wanted to make her Robin first to drum up more attention for that death. They were doing ooc things with her to set those pieces in motion, and that needs to be taken into account. I think her getting upset about seeing something like that isn’t even ooc, but her using it as motivation to become Robin and not even saying anything to him about it is. In the earlier instance where she’s upset/jealous about Star, she does communicate to him what’s going on at least a little bit on the rooftop after they’d saved her. She makes it clear the thing she was upset about is that she feels like she can’t trust him because she doesn’t really know him while he knows everything about her, and that’s why she thinks he’s cheating. Her reaction to the Darla thing is not in line with how earlier in canon Steph would have handled the same situation, because they wanted her to die and needed a way to explain her becoming Robin.
"and expressed that jealousy by accusing him of cheating and throwing things at him" - I just addressed the cheating stuff but the throwing things was fucking slapstick oh my god this is a comic book for kids/teens like. ah yes this is horrible abuse in this little funny montage of how Steph wants him to leave her alone because she’s mad at him and he refuses to give her space
(Robin #82)
I don’t think anyone at DC or even in fandom would/should try to argue she’s perfect, because she’s not! And I don’t want her to be because perfect characters are boring. Steph is flawed, Steph has been compared in canon to Robin-era Jason by Cass & Bruce
(Detective Comics #790)
And I think these highlight some of her very real flaws that are an interesting part of her character. These plus her stubbornness and determination are part of what makes her her.
And for fuck's sake the world was mean to her, and to act like it wasn’t is just blatantly ignoring a lot. A criminal father who made her life really difficult (‘when my dad was mad at me he’d lock me in the closet!’), that time she got kidnapped for two weeks and her mom had left her (a 15 year old) alone at home so long she didn't even find out it happened (in text Steph says Crystal was visiting friends, a lot of people interpret that as her mom possibly being in rehab for her addictions again), that whole thing about how one of her dad’s friends tried to sexually assault her as a child, also just how due to her dad's work sometimes criminals would be living in their house (Literally the fucking Riddler at one point!), the fact that we as an audience watched her get tortured for several days because a plan she tried to enact to prove herself backfired since Batman didn’t trust her with important information (something Selina even calls him out on in her internal narration), like… sorry but in what way is all that not the world being mean to her?
She was Robin, she dated Robin, she likes Eggplant (because purple would've looked stupid), and makes jokes. She’s also impulsive, headstrong and determined, and wants to prove to herself and others that she can be more than just the daughter of a shitty criminal, that she can actually be a force to do good in the world.
She’s a complex character, and nobody is required to like her, but to act like she doesn’t have a single redeeming trait is ridiculous. You could write a paragraph like that with the worst moments of basically any character and make them look like shit if that's what you were setting out to do.
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Those Three Little Words
Fred Weasley x Reader
This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.
Prompts: 10 & 11
"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'Oh, crap!'"/"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."
Warnings: Swearing (per usual). Anxiety. Toxic Family. Emotional Trauma(?). Angsty. Post-War.
The War had been a sick wakeup call for Fred. He'd lived his life carefree and reckless, as he figured each day were a given. Mess up today it didn't matter because there was always tomorrow. He would strut through life as if he were invincible because, well, he always seemed that way. But death has a funny way of reshuffling ones priorities. A way of shedding light on what truly matters in your life.
Fred never considered himself as someone who lacked ambition. Frankly George and he never seemed to let anything hold them back. However, these days Fred could very well give Slytherins a run for their money - something George frequently teased him about. If there were something he wanted Merlin himself couldn't get in his way.
Not only in the case of work but his personal life as well. In love. And there was only one woman on Earth he loved. [Y/N].
He knew he loved her before the war. Before Umbridge drove him from Hogwarts in their final year. Before she left him.
It was only shortly prior, the boys epic departure, that [Y/N] had made the decision to call it quits. She knew their lives were destined to pull them in opposite directions and she never put much stock in long distance relationships. So, with a final kiss and a wish good luck, she walked out of his life. Albeit not completely.
After graduation she kept loosely in touch with the Twins, they had been friends after all, even visiting their shop on the off occasion when she could swing it. Although she was often far too busy to stay for long. Eventually she was relocated overseas for work, this officially terminating any of the limited contact had between the three.
The next time they would be in each others presence was the ill-fated battle.
[Y/N] had been keeping tabs on the events leading up to the fight. Even engaging in missions on behalf of the Order when necessary. She had proved quite a valuable asset. In the days before all Hell broke loose [Y/N] returned to Britian on 'urgent family matters' and of course she fought.
When Fred saw her again after so many years the rush of feelings that coursed through his body were nearly enough to knock him off balance. She was still so gorgeous. The [E/C] of her eyes reminding him just how deeply he loved her. Just how much he needed her. And he knew. Just knew she felt the same.
He saw it in the little things she did for him. Saw it in the tears of her eyes. In the way she broke down in his Hospital room when he finally woke, a fortnight, after his accident. Heard it in the tremble of her voice. In her 'I thought I lost you's. In the way she clung to him. He was so relieved she was okay and so happy to finally have her back in his life. Until suddenly...she wasn't anymore.
Recovery was Freds life now, but that wasn't hers. She was still needed elsewhere and as much as he wished she would stay he knew she couldn't. She still had a life left living. It were a miracle she managed to stay as long as she had. So...she left. And he wouldn't see her again for years. Six. To be exact.
Recovery had taken years from Fred. It was two and a half years before he could consider himself independent. After all that time wasted he wasn't about to let anything stand in his way. So when news carried to his ears that [Y/N] was back living in London, permanently, that after six years he could see her again, there was nothing holding him back.
In a second he'd apparated to her doorstep. Knocking on the withered wood door. Listening to the faint patter of approaching footsteps. Hearing the gentle click of the locks tumblers as they turned. Watching the steady swing of the door as it opened. Feeling the prick of burning tears behind his eyes as he stared back into her questioning gaze. Pulling her body into his as their lips collided. Relishing in the warmth that spread through his blood as she kissed back. Clung back. Loved him back. Everything he poured into her she gave right back. He swore right in that moment that he'd never let her go again. They'd wasted so much time already.
Over a year later the two could not have been deeper in love. She'd moved into the boys flat mere months after he appeared at her door. It's what Fred wanted, and Fred always gets what he wants.
Fred and Georges business had picked up quite quickly after the war. Fred insisted George begin work on the restorations while he recovered. Saying he wanted everything back in full swing by the time he was upright, to pick right back where he left off. George was sure he simply didn't fancy cleaning it himself and saw recovery as a pretty convenient excuse. Fred didn't deny his brothers claim.
They'd managed to open a second store in Hogsmead and were currently renovating the original store. Expanding the flat and lower levels. This saw the three residents temporarily relocating to the Burrow for a few days as the work was completed. Molly had insisted, saying the house were 'far too quiet' for her liking. Which was hard to believe as Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all currently lived there. Of course Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy had all moved out ages ago, and Charlie was back living in Romania. Still, it beats paying accommodation elsewhere. And they couldn't deny that spending time back in their childhood home was enjoyable. It felt warm and safe and familiar, like the war had never happened and they were all just spending time together as a family.
As dinner approached on their third day home [Y/N] and Harry could be found helping prepare tonights meal, under the careful instruction of Mrs Weasley, while the rest sat comfortably within the sitting room fondly reminiscing their times spent together just like they were now.
The group were laughing haughtily at a certain memory George had recalled in which [Y/N] turned Rons entire bedroom hot pink with the Twins 'Everlasting Dye', after he thought it'd be funny to turn her hair a similar shade. Much like [Y/N]'s hair the dye hadn't faded for well over a fortnight as the Twins found the whole thing all too funny and refused them the instant remover.
"God, I love her." Fred smiled brightly at the memory, "I'm going to marry that woman." He stated matter-of-factly.
"Sure she likes you that much?" Ginny quipped.
"Certain, dear Sister." Ginny simply nodded a look of uncertainty on her face. "What's that look for?" "Nothing." "Ginny." "well it's just...she doesn't really say it much does she?" "'Course she does. What are you on about?" "I just don't think I've ever actually heard her say she loves you before." "It's not like you're 'round us 24/7 now is it?" Fred scoffed, shaking off his sisters comment.
George meanwhile was staring towards the ceiling, brows furrowed as he contemplated Ginnys words deeply before letting out a low "hmmp" as realisation struck.
"Oh, what now?" Fred rolled his attention toward his Twin. "Nothing it's just I can't think of a time I've heard her say it either." Ginny had a look of 'I told you so' blatantly obvious on her face while Ron and Hermione thought hard on the topic as well. Freds gaze shifted quickly between his gathered family.
"Oh, so what if you've never heard it. Point is I have. And I know she loves me so it doesn't matter. But if you all must! Here," he leant back in his chair calling into the kitchen "Hey, [Y/N/N]!" "Yeah, Freddie?" She walked toward him with a loving smile. "I love you" [Y/N]'s smile faded instantly as she raised a suspicious brow, "What'd you do?" "What!?" Fred asked shocked as the eavesdroppers giggled. "No. Nothing, really! I just wanted to tell you I love you." "Oh...well I know that" she smiled, kissing him softly. Fred gave her an expectant look as she stood back. "...what?" "you love me too, yeah?" "Of course I do." There was a determination behind her words. Almost as if she were insulted by his question, to which the answer were painstakingly obvious. She soothingly ran a hand through his hair, "I've got to get back in there and help your Mother before Harry burns everything." She joked, placing a final quick kiss to his lips. He watched her leave a giddy smile on his face before turning back to his nosey family.
"See. Told you." He laid back in his seat confidently. The group all shared tight lipped, awkward, smiles. "Oh, what?!" "It's just she didn't really say it, did she?" George spoke. "Yeah she did. I asked her and she said 'yes'. End of conversation." "But she didn't actually say the words; 'I love you'." Ginnys voice intervened. "She doesn't have to." "Shouldn't it be sort of automatic?" "Like you and Harry say it every time." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty much" Ginny nodded, earning an unconvinced scoff from her brother. "Here, watch."
Ginny mirrored Freds earlier movements, calling to the kitchen, "Hey, Harry!" "Yeah, Gin?" Harry came to his fiancès call. She smiled up at him sweetly, "I love you". Harry looked around the group a little uncomfortable and unsure but smiled nonetheless. "I love you too" he placed a quick kiss to her temple. "Right, that's all I wanted you can go now." Ginny turned back in her chair as Harry walked away very confused.
"Automatic." She gestured widely with her hands, a triumphant look on her face. "Oh piss off." Fred scowled. "Doesn't matter if she 'says the words' or not. I know she loves me. Doesn't bother me." "Good for you, Freddie." Ron spoke encouragingly. "So you're on my side?" "Absolutely!" "It wouldn't bother you if Hermione never-" "oh GOD no! She has to say the words. I need the reassurance." He looked up to his girlfriend, who in turn lovingly took his hand in hers.
"Alright. So it's a little strange. But I bet I can have her saying it before we leave." "In four days?" George questioned, sceptical. "Yep. I'll make her." "How romantic. With charm like that it's a wonder why she hasn't said it already." His Twin chuckled. "Why don't you just talk to her about it? Maybe there's a reason." Hermione piped. "Nah. My ways better." Fred shook his head, tapping his knees lightly as he thought.
And so began, what Fred would soon discover to be, the most difficult challenge he'd ever attempted.
It started out simply enough; with a few added 'I love you's here and there. Whether the moment called for it or not. Although after the war Fred had become notably more vocal in expressing his love towards family and friends, he kicked it up a notch in an attempt to coax those very words from the mouth of his partner. Quickly escalating to more grand and romantic gestures.
The first was a ridiculously large bouquet of vividly yellow roses. Moving onto a private picnic for two atop the Hill which rested behind the Burrow. At sunset he had dragged [Y/N] from the home to where he laid a blanket and candles, with soft music playing in the background, as well as having organised a platter of all their favourite foods. Ending the meal rather...intimately. During which he was sure to further praise her and whisper sweet, loving words in her ear. Telling her just how much he loved her.
His constant showering of affection had granted him plenty of appreciation in return. His words always being met with the usual "I do too"s and "Me too"s even a couple "Dittos" they always had, though he was yet to receive any "I love you"s. Which hadn't bothered him before, but now was proving to be mildly infuriating and very disheartening, really.
Failure wasn't something Fred was used to anymore. To think he was unable to get his long term partner to say those three little words was quickly making him uncomfortable.
By the fourth and final morning, since setting himself this little challenge, Fred was spent. He was sure he'd tried everything. Grand gestures. Romantic dates. Surprise kisses. Great sex. He had even seriously considered proposing, as a last resort. But these were not the circumstances in which he wanted to do so under, when he did he wanted it to be perfect. Maybe the Imperius - NO! no. Too drastic.
Why was nothing working? Suddenly Ginnys amusing quip wasn't so funny anymore and struck a vein far too close to home. Was it possible he was wrong and she simply didn't feel the same way?
All manner of sickeningly worrisome thoughts began to flood through his mind as he lay awake. He starred at the woman he loved so fiercely, so passionately, he could swear she were the only reason his heart kept bleeding.
He watched her as she slept peacefully, tucked tight against his chest, whilst he absent-mindedly stroked her hair, contemplating a reality which he much rather never come true. One in which she didn't love him.
He used to be so sure but now...now he was terrified. He'd never thought much on what form his Boggart would assume if he ever were to face one. He knew in this moment though that is exactly what shape it would take. Her.
She'd approach him slowly. An evil grin and amused brow raised upon her features. She'd tell him what a fool he was. How stupid he was to ever think a woman like her could love a boy like him. That she only stayed with him out of pity. How humiliated and desperate he seemed that day on her doorstep. How it would have been better if he had just given up, never fought to survive after the explosion. How much better it'd have been if he just died in War. She could have found real love, lived a happy life away from the embarrassing one she led with him in it.
Tears burned red in the whites of his eyes as his chest shuddered with every quickened and panicking breath he took. His heart thundering in his ears as the room began to spin. He was suffocating. Sweat streamed down his temples. He had to get out. Escape.
Sliding as quickly and carefully as he could from beneath the covers without disturbing the sleeping woman in his bed, he took for the shower. Praying the steam would unfog his mind. That the water would wash away his doubts and anxiety.
The whole time he tried to rationalise why [Y/N] wouldn't say the words. Reassuring himself that it didn't matter. Shouldn't matter. He left the bathroom long after the water had run cold feeling only moderately better than when he'd entered. At least now he had a modicum of control over his body. His emotions on the other hand...
He slowly descended the steps of his childhood home, face emotionless, to the sound of light chatter and clinking of various dishes. Everyone was already gathered around the table eating breakfast.
"Ah, there you are!" George announced as Fred entered the kitchen, "clean now are we? Thought you'd must have drowned in there." He joked. Fred offered a light chuckle and forced smile as he sat himself between his Twin and partner. "What's this the wake then?"
[Y/N] leant into his side, placing a kiss to his cheek as her hand traced circles on his lower back. "Morning, Hun" she murmured tenderly, chin resting against his shoulder as she peered up at him. He didn't look at her, simply humming in response. His hand briefly came to squeeze her thigh before quickly retracting. This did little to evoke a sense of ease within his significant other.
Over the eighteen months they'd shared together [Y/N] had long since become accustomed to his dramatic morning greetings. Usually, as they'd wake up together, it'd involve him peppering her face and neck in countless kisses before joining George for breakfast. On days when they'd wake to find themselves alone under the covers, the other having obviously awoke long ago, he'd surprise her. Lifting her off her feet and spinning her through the air then, placing her back down, kissing her deeply.
The only times she'd seen him like this were nights when his dreams had been plagued with flashbacks from the Battle. She assumed he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't had any nightmares in months and would usually, unintentionally, wake her during them. "You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah."
Totally convincing.
The rest of the day Fred was cold. To everyone but [Y/N] especially. He was having difficulty even looking at her. She'd tried talking with him but he insisted there was nothing the matter. Didn't keep her from worrying.
After dinner everyone moved into the lounge, engaging in various bits of conversation. Everyone aside from Fred. No one was sure when he'd disappeared but his absence was noted nonetheless. [Y/N] was the one to search for him. Found standing within the garden over looking the sunset.
She could see the discontent held in his body, the way he stood so rigid. The hollow expression on his features, completely devoid of any emotion. It hurt her seeing him this way.
"Hey, You." She spoke hesitantly. Fred turned at the sound of her voice. Watching her standing tentatively before him as if unsure whether or not her presence was welcome. "Hey, You" he smiled sadly back, his frame visibly relaxing at the sight of her. "We're all missing you in there. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" [Y/N] said softly as she approached him, arms snaking around his waist. His hands fell to her lower back and pulled her into his body ever more so. "Just needed a bit of quiet to think" "'Think', huh?" He hummed in response. "That's never good" she grinned making him laugh lightly. "No, it isn't." He placed a slow kiss to her lips.
Breaking it shortly after as he teased, "So, you missed me?" "Every second you're not by my side I do." He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes falling shut contently. Fred exhaled comfortably,"I love you" "I do too" [Y/N] replied. "What love you?" Fred straightened himself with a cheeky expression on his face which was mirrored on that of his partners. "Stop it." "I'm serious." "You know what I mean" "Do I?".
[Y/N] had another quip ready on the tip of her tongue until noticing that cheery look he held had vanished and they were no longer standing in one anothers embrace. Her face dropped at the sight if a completely serious Fred Weasley stood in front of her. Awaiting the answer to a question she didn't fully understand. "Whats gotten into you?" She took a step toward him, to which, he took one back. "Do you love me?" "Of course I do!" "Then why don't you say it?" "I don't know what you're -" "you never say it." "I just did." "No, you agreed to a question I asked." "It's the same thing." "It's not."
The two were practically talking on top of one another. "Just...say it." He took a step towards her, to which, she took one back. "If I say it now it'll be forced and it may as well not mean anything." "Why can't you just say it!?" He snapped, more asking himself the question than her. But he needed to ask. He wasn't yelling at her but a part of [Y/N] wished he would. "I know you love me. Or at least I thought I did. I just...I need to hear you say it because sometimes I can't help but wonder - please just. Say it." Staring into her eye's pleadingly, hers stared right back in apology. "Fred..." "Forget it." He turned from her. "Fred, baby" her hand reached for his shoulder as his own ran through his hair in frustration whilst his jaw clenched. "I can't. I can't be near you right now." He shook his head, storming off towards the Hill. Ignoring her frantic, begging calls.
[Y/N] stood rooted to the spot from shock. This was one of the first fights the pair had had, and she wasn't even sure what brought it on. There'd been minor squabbles between them out of stress from work or other things but never something like this. They had such an open relationship it never got to this point, any concerns either held was always voiced and discussed. Why was this time different?
As she watched his figure slowly disappear amongst the dark as night was soon to fall, she made her decision. This time wasn't going to be different. They were going to talk about it whether he cared to or not. Even if that meant her admitting somethings she'd very much hoped never have to. So, she set off after him.
Fred stood with his back against the trunk of an old tree which grew tall on top the Hill. One hand in his pocket as the other ran his fingers over the markings carved into it's wood by the Weasley family. One engraving in particular. A relatively fresh one where he had carved [Y/N]s name next to his own last Christmas to "officially" mark her as apart of the family.
He recalled the moment vividly. How she questioned his actions, wondering if he'll still love her the same 'down the road', not to regret this decision. "Nah, you're right. I won't love you the same. I'll love you more." He'd said. "But the real question is; will you love me, or are you just going to break my heart?" To be honest. He truly hadn't expected the latter.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the approaching sound of footsteps. Turning his head he rolled his eyes upon realising it was her. "Not now." He growled. "Yes now." She shot back at him standing firm in place.
She'd planned a whole monologue on the walk to him but now that she was here, eyes meeting his, she hadn't a damn clue what to say.
"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'oh, crap!'" She blurted out. Fred looked at her quizzically as the words settled in the air. [Y/N]'s eyes shut for a moment, kicking herself. That wasn't how she intended for the conversation to go. "I'm-I can't say the words" she began again to which Fred scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much." "Fred, just shut the fuck up, and listen to me!" Her stare shot daggers into the boy and he found his attention unwavering from her words.
"I didn't have a normal upbringing. I didn't get what you have. I came from a family where love was a weapon. A tool for manipulation. Something that was withheld until you were useful. Something used to excuse shitty behaviour. I didn't get the warm Christmases and intimacy you got. Before you I wasn't sure I knew what love was. My whole life had been cold. Then when you showed up at my door that day it was like hot blood began pumping through my body for the first time. You felt like life when my whole existence has been death. That's when I knew I couldn't live without you. When I knew that I...I can't say it. The words. But not just to you, I can't say them to anyone. It feels unnatural like there's a rope tied around my throat and it suffocates me. And it kills me a little bit. To look into your eyes and know that I - that I still can't - may never ... fuck. I-" [Y/N]s hand came to cover her eyes as tears fell and heartbroken sobs escaped her body.
Fred reacted on instinct, by her side in a second, pulling her into his chest. A hand gripped her back as the other fisted into her hair. "I'm sorry" she cried as he soothed her.
Fred was fighting sobs of his own, feeling as her body shudder against his and she clung to him for support. Because if she didn't her knees would buckle and she'd fall.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I had no idea this was...look at me." He held her shoulders taking half a step back to look at her. "I don't care if you never say the words." "But then why-" "I listened to the opinions of four prats who had no business sticking their noses in our relationship." [Y/N] chuckled sadly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Before they said anything I honestly hadn't noticed because I knew, I know you love me. You don't have to tell me because you show me. It's in your kiss. In your eyes. Your laugh. Your nostrils as they flare when you yell at me after successfully pissing you off. Never be sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing. Okay?" [Y/N] nodded in response, unable to form a sentence. Smiling sweetly his hand came to caress below her jaw."I love you." "Now you're just rubbing it in." Fred laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.
He's pulling away before [Y/N]s pulling him back by the collar of his shirt for a deep and passionate one. Soon breaking in dire need for air.
Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. His eyes fall shut, pressing his head against hers gently. [Y/N]s eyes are searching his face. Why can't she just tell him? The words, those three stupid little words, are right there tearing at her throat. Wanting to be said. This is real. He is not her parents, not her toxic 'family'. He's Fred. Sweet, caring Fred. Her one and only. He's different.
She swallows hard, mouth going dry, as that familiar tightening takes hold. Trying desperately to rid herself of that strangling sensation that plagues her a trillion times a day. She's staring at him, panic coursing through her bloodstream. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to muster as much strength as she can. "I-" the words are right there. Her voice barely a whisper as she fights that rope. "I love you." [Y/N] gasps for air as a knot in the rope snaps. Eyes widening as her chest shudders before she's smiling. Fresh tears falling in relief and joy.
Fred's eyes spring open, gawking. Did she just...is he-did he imagine that? No. There's no way. "You...you-" "I love you." Her voice louder this time, more assured as a second knot snaps. He doesn't know how to react. Body and mind still processing.
Soon though he's grinning like a madman, spinning her in his arms, feeling happier than he thought possible. Placing her back on the ground both hands cup her face as his lips crash into hers.
They stay like that for a while, in one anothers arms. [Y/N]s kissing him tenderly as she pulls back to whisper the words once more, "I love you." He smiles cockily down at her before his expression shifts to one of mock surprise. "Oh, crap!" he laughs as [Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha. You're such a bastard." She turns to walk off but he grabs her arm. Spinning her back against his chest as his other hand comes to the nape of her neck.
"Not so fast, Princess." He licks his lips smirking, voice low "say it again." She bites her lip suppressing a wide smile. "I love you." He places one final kiss before a wicked grin spreads over his face and he's quickly throwing her over his shoulder.
"Come on, love!" He starts running for the Burrow. "FRED!" [Y/N] squeals. "No time to waste! I told them I'd have to saying it before we leave." "You...oh my god, FRED! Did you place a bet on me!? You absolute GIT!"
"Love you too, sweetheart."
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley fanfiction#George weasley#hp imagine#harry potter fanfiction#prompt fics#harry potter
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How to Dream About Your Crush
Summary: You’re gonna go into your crush’s dream and that’s not all, you’re going to make him fall madly in love with you, only in seven days.
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x Banshee! Reader
Words: 9k+
Warnings: No correlation to the wikihow article, wattpad got nothing on me, references to HYYH era and the ‘Save Me’ webtoon, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Death, Pretty PG rated overall except for some suggestive parts
💌 A/N: This is the longest Jungkook ff I have ever written. Also, happy valentine’s day!
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“Who are you?” He asked you as you turned around, your long red dress flowing freely behind you as he ran towards you. “Your future.” You gave him a half smile and everything faded to white, that’s how the dream ended. You woke up with a smile on your face, feeling quite well rested. You weren’t, however, ready to face Jungkook after that little stunt you pulled. Yoongi was glaring at you as you trudged to the kitchen.
“There’s a reason why we don’t use the dream dust on humans, you know?”
“I know, I know. But he’s the cutest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and you know I’m the equivalent of a newborn even at 22.” Your superior lets out a sigh.
“Yes, I suppose I understand why you did it. I just don’t like it, is all. Our kind isn’t known to humans. Even though we blend in well, we cannot mix. Some are just too smart for us to sneak past.” Yoongi finishes whipping up the last batch of his potions for the next week and a half.
“I know you’re salty because once they thought you were a ghost when you went out to go buy a t.v. It doesn’t help that they made a horror movie about it either.” You laugh at the memory, your eyes twinkling with mischief as your older brother glares daggers at you, again.
“We’re the laughing stalk of the 4th dimension, Y/N, how would you feel if a human mistook you for a demon and decided to give you a silly name like, “the crying woman?” or “the girl from the ring?” You just narrowed your eyes at him.
“Those things already exist. Besides, I think it was a good thing that you got caught. Humans fear us so they’ll stay away. Even if they’re wrong about the ghost part, we still have a cool name.” Yoongi buckles his satchel before putting his brown bag over his shoulder and going out for the day.
“For the record, Banshees are cool. Banhees are not.” You rolled your eyes at him as he left, finally locking the door behind him. You loved spending time alone, as you have been for the last quarter of a century. It felt like an eternity, all that time cooped up in your house that you were assigned to stay in with your superior, Yoongi. Over a period of time, he became like a brother to you, that’s why it’s easier to refer to him as your brother, even though you aren’t biologically related to one another.
Your world operates similar to the human world, the only difference is that ghouls don’t get into fights over silly things and there’s no concept of racism because the entire population consists of different types of people and it's not like you deal with the same species. Instead you consider yourselves a single population of just otherlanders. There are others like you, but their existence doesn’t affect yours in any shape or form.
You worked for the factory that you were born at, the same factory that sent you and Yoongi to the human dimension. This way, you could do good deeds without bothering anyone. You were born into a complicated situation. Your entire family was under arrest when you were still in utero, and you were born in a factory jail cell. You were sent to an orphanage as an infant and when you were around 18 years of age, you were sent to work at the factory. That is also where you met your 110 year old superior.
Others didn’t protest, even though it was odd for such a young Banshee to be traveling to the human world and completing tasks meant for elders. Yoongi luckily looked after you, and you became used to the workings of the human world. Your job was easy enough: Look after the souls who you have been assigned to and help them through their dreams.
It was an easy enough task, except for the fact that you couldn’t directly intervene in their lives. You had to go into their dreams and Jungkook Jeon just happened to be one of the lucky humans you had the pleasure of helping, at least that’s what you like to believe. Yoongi got assigned to him instead, but once you got a peek of that bunny-toothed smile, you just couldn’t resist! That boy was just too cute.
To Yoongi’s dismay, you started appearing in his dreams, whether they were dreams or nightmares. You also couldn’t risk him seeing your body, because the lifeless skin with a light blue tint would be a dead giveaway that you weren’t human.
All you needed was a picture of him and some dream dust, the unfortunate part was that Yoongi was the only one who could make it, as he knew the recipe by heart and refused to give it to you until you learned how to be a responsible Banshee and do your job. For your family, who you barely knew.
Later that night, you find yourself in the middle of a road. All you can see is darkness, except for the road with clear yellow lines separating the two lanes. A strange feeling forms in the pit of your belly as you look past your field of vision and you see the road cut off. When you turn around, you see Jungkook, who looks shocked to see you in the middle of his nightmare.
He shuts his eyes and covers himself with his arms, as if he would be shielded from whatever danger just because he can’t see it. Before you can ask him what he was doing, a blinding flash of light stops you, and you feel the impact of the car as glass shards go flying everywhere. It was in slow motion, but you could see Jungkook’s horrified face as you stare back at him with lifeless eyes. He was so startled that he woke up before you did, leaving you alone on the dark road again, only shards of glass and a smashed car to keep you company.
It seems Jungkook’s trauma runs deeper than his memory. When you were flying through the air in slow motion, your vision came back into focus. The blinding light hadn’t reached your eyes yet, so it gave you time to peer into the window. You didn’t see a driver, no face, no body, no hands. It was like the car was driving itself.
You also noticed that the car was driving in the middle of the road, not on either side so it didn’t give Jungkook an opportunity to move out of the way. You getting into an accident was not your fault either, you weren’t meant to be there in the first place. Now that you know, you can avoid this in the future by pulling Jungkook aside or pushing him out of the way. Even though it was a dream, you still felt pain from the incident. This was a downside to being a creature of the night, you remember dreams vividly and never forget pain. That’s why there were a small number of Banshees in your world, because people remembered the pain of giving birth, they stopped reproducing.
It was about 9 in the morning when you awakened from your slumber, after recounting the events in the dream world by yourself after Jungkook woke up, you stayed there alone. Sometimes, a girl just needs to have that peace and quiet.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Yoongi!” You gasp, sitting up on the bed, clutching your blanket with one hand and your dream journal in the other.
“I thought I told you to stop going after that Jungkook boy. He’s my assignment, after all.” You pout as Yoongi shuts you down again.
“Yoongi, how many times do I have to tell you? I can’t let him go. He’s special.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“How many times have I heard this before? One, two, three? They were all different names, different partners too. Ah, how it feels to be a teenager.”
“I’m not a teenager. Not in our dimension, anyways.” Yoongi doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry at your naive remark. All he can do now is take care of you and get you home in one piece.
“I know that.” He clicks his tongue but you still look more perplexed than ever.
“We’re partners, but this assignment has to be done alone. If you screw this up for me, I can get fired.”
“I understand, sir yes sir,” You salute him before flipping through the pages of your dream diary. “I won’t mess this up. In fact, I think I even found the root of his trauma.” Yoongi shakes his head at your thoughtless comment.
“There is no such thing as a “root” of trauma. Normally, people are mentally scarred during their childhood and they grow up to have problems during their adult life. In Jungkook’s case, he is not a full adult yet, we’re just lucky we got here in time before it started taking over his life.”
“Yoongi, when can I have my first assignment? They said we were partners and sent us here so we can complete missions together but it feels like you just want me to stay out of it altogether.” Yoongi furrows his brows. He puts his fingers to his forehead, pressing down and rubbing his temples for relief. He looks tired and grumpy, like an old man.
“I can’t teach you if you won’t listen to me. When I told you to let me handle this alone, I meant that I wanted to be the one to open the gates to the dream world and let you through so you could observe from a distance.”
“Oh yeah? And how’s that coming for ya?”
“So far? Not so great.” He sighs, plopping onto the green couch with a thwack.
“Tell me what’s the matter.”
“You. You keep messing everything up. I bet you can’t even do your job right even if I assigned you the task.” Your eyes widen at his playful comment, which was a complete 180 from his authoritarian behavior from before.
“I bet I can do that, and make him fall madly in love with me while doing it.” The corners of his lips twitch upwards and into a strange mix between a grimace and a smirk. It takes you a moment to realize that he was trying to smile, something that Yoongi doesn’t do very often.
“In a week?” Yoongi adds. “If you fail, you have to buy me a Maxi size blanket from Max-Mart.” You reach out to shake his hand but withdraw quickly, realizing that you forgot to decide his punishment.
“And if I win, you have to give me the recipe to Dream Dust.” He scoffs. “Deal.” You shake on it.
Day 1
You wipe your sweaty palms on your pajamas as you prepare for another night in Jungkook’s Dream World. The first thing you needed to do was confront him. Unlike Yoongi, you believed in doing things head-on. Much to your company’s dismay, there were no specific rules stating that you can’t do so. You can’t interfere in the waking world, that’s all.
“It’s you.” Jungkook is in the middle of a floating pile of laundry, which piles higher than any mountain you’ve seen before.
“How’d you get up there?” You ask, trying to change that topic since dream logic allowed you to skip over the meaningless greetings and get to the point. Jungkook didn’t notice, giving you what he thought was a sensible answer but instead the letters came out jumbled and he said something about Alpaca parkas.
“That’s a lovely scent. What kind of detergent do you use?” Jungkook shrugs as you help him out of the pile, not minding that you flew up to do so. “Are you an angel?” He asks finally, when you set him down after flying him back down to safety.
“If that’ll help you sleep better at night, then yeah, I guess so.”
“I’ve seen you before, you’re the one that ran away from me the other time...but that was a dream. Oh my god, am I dreaming?” Jungkook’s smile makes your heart melt. You never thought you would meet a human that made you feel this way, much less a boy. If he belonged to your world, he would be an infant, same as you. But he is technically older than you, since you were only 22 and he was 24.
“Can you tell me who was driving the car?” You shift topics easily but Jungkook’s dreamscape looks murky. It’s like he’s having a thousand thoughts at once but you can’t hear any of them, as he’s keeping them to himself, even in his own dream. Technically, the dream plane is a place where people can share dreams if their connection is strong enough, but you forced your way into his dreams, with the dream dust. Another strange rule about the dream plane is that if he didn’t truly want you here, you could be cast out of his dream. Of course, that’s never happened to you before since you only watched Yoongi do this from afar and never interfered with it directly.
“No.” Again, the horn of that very same car warns you from behind as Jungkook watches the light with wide doe eyes, waiting for the impact that never comes.
He looks at you with confusion as you make the car swerve past you into a halt, something that Jungkook himself can never do. He always gets hit in the end, and then wakes up in his bed in a cold sweat. It’s not really a pleasant feeling, as his heart would race and he would have to get up to drink water or go to the bathroom to calm down his nerves.
“How did you do that?” His dreamscape changes again, to something more serene. A golden-orange sunset near the beach. You can feel the sand between your toes as the waves crash onto your feet and swipe it away. The change is drastic to the empty road in the darkness that always ends in a car crash. You can tell Jungkook still has no control over it, the car just hits him every time and instead of moving out of the way, he waits for the collision, like he’s supposed to get hit.
“I didn’t do anything. It’s your dream, after all.” You try twisting the situation around, since in the dreamscape, you can say or do anything and it will make sense to the person dreaming at the time.
“But you’re here. I know I’ve never met you in real life...so why do you keep appearing in my dreams?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you caught a glimpse of me somewhere and now your subconscious is presenting me as the answer to your problem.” Why did you say that? Now you’ve really gone and done it.
“How can you possibly be my “cure?” The car was just a coincidence. Let’s just say I was so taken aback that I stopped it from crushing you. What good does having you by my side do for me? Are you supposed to be my miracle?” You decide to play along, just for now. If Jungkook thinks he needs you, and you give him exactly what he wants (because it’s a dream), then in the waking world when you run into him, you can directly help him heal and overcome his fears. It’s a win-win situation! Although, Yoongi won’t be very proud of you for doing the latter.
He doesn’t believe in doing the work himself, he says making the humans come to a realization is much more satisfying than directly trying to fix the problem. He calls it pushing things into place, you call it laziness.
“Again, it’s all up to you. I’m just here for the ride.” You’re vague on purpose, as Jungkook comes close to you, practically bumping noses as his breath fans on your lips like a cool breeze of air. You don’t know why, but your heart races when he steps even closer to you.
His lips are almost touching yours, when he suddenly pulls away.
“I don’t even know you.”
You wake up in a cold sweat. Yoongi is flipping through a book, smirking as he sips some coffee while watching you struggle after your return from Jungkook’s dreamscape. He doesn’t think you’ll be able to get any further than angering Jungkook for prying into his most personal thoughts through his dreams.
You make yourself some coffee before starting the day, peering out the window to watch Jungkook as he exits his apartment in a rush, with a guitar case in hand. You know exactly where he’s going, too.
You decide to make your first encounter with Jungkook a mere coincidence. A chance-meeting. Two people meeting on the street only to meet later somewhere else. You were playing with destiny.
Your physical body has noticeable differences from a human’s body, which means if Jungkook gets too close, he could discover you’re not like him. You opted to wear a simple brown trench coat and some brown boots, but you keep your face covered until you drop a coin in his guitar case.
His eyes widen when he sees you, and you give him the sweetest smile you think a human girl can possibly muster. Quickly, you turn around and disappear around the corner, leaving Jungkook to busk again by his lonesome. He does it everyday, for two hours. After that, he heads down to his workplace which is by a supermarket.
You don’t go to that supermarket to buy groceries, since it was far away, compared to your local supermarket.
“You know, if you don’t think you can do this, you can give your bag of dream dust to me and I can—” “No!” You interrupt Yoongi, with tearful eyes. “I don’t care about your stupid bet. I just want Jungkook to get at least one night of rest. This may be a game for you, but he’s a real person, you know? He is more than an “assignment.” Yoongi, I’m asking you for a bit of humility.” Yoongi sighs before setting his book down on the table, putting a hand on his chin as he speaks to you.
“And so it begins. Your first mission,” You look at him with bewilderment; Had he meant to piss you off from the very beginning? “The same thing happened to me on mine, and my grandfather’s father. The key to a successful mission is realizing that your assigned humans are human.” You were at a loss for words.
Yoongi helped you? This one is definitely going in the book of reports.
“What difference does it make? Jungkook doesn’t want my help. He doesn’t even know me.”
“But you know him,” Yoongi’s eyes glimmer with flecks of gold, his irises naturally brown with a yellow undertone. You always found his eyes captivating, mirroring the very essence of his soul. He’s wise and monotonous, with a microscopic piece of warmth seeping through the cracks. Rarely does he express any kind of emotion at all. Yet this was one of those rare moments in which he displayed emotion. “So help him.”
Day 2
Jungkook’s dreamscape had taken a turn for the worst. This time, you found yourself in the middle of a crime scene, Jungkook watching himself bleed out as his double sinks into the white-tiled floor, fresh scarlet blood pooling around his head. You stood on the far side of the island, not wanting to be found out.
Jungkook walks past the body suddenly, making a beeline for the back door. You watch the scene around you shift once again, and suddenly, you’re in the middle of a party. Is Jungkook reliving memories? Seeing vivid nightmares because those memories haunt him? You know he was involved in a car accident, and that left him unable to dance. He still can’t exert force on his leg to this day, even though it’s been 5 years.
You follow Jungkook’s mop of dark brown hair, taking in his man-bun for a second before walking behind him as quietly as possible. The party itself isn’t loud, the strange dream logic allows Jungkook to drown out any noise. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, but that’s how dreams work, subconsciously. You follow him along a dark corridor, your eyes going wide when you realize this is a make-out corner, and then to your horror, you see him kiss someone. You can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman given the crappy lighting, but you can see that whoever it is, they’re really into the kiss.
Jungkook suddenly pushes them away, running towards the bathroom, and when you go to see what’s the matter, someone from his dreamscape runs past you to go help him. You peer in through the door, only opening it half way to find none other than Yoongi himself assisting a half-dead Jungkook on the ground. His labored breaths resound through the room, as you watch him grip the edges of the toilet seat.
“Jungkook-ah, I’m here now. Let’s get you home.” You’re quick to realize that’s not your Yoongi, although the two of them bear a striking resemblance.
“Hyung, do you love me?” You hear Jungkook croak out, the innocence in his voice suggesting that this was one of his early memories from school.
“Of course I do. Do you think I’d come all the way here if I didn’t?”
“I kissed her. Your girlfriend.” Instead of becoming upset, or dropping Jungkook, he just lets out a chuckle. You feel instantly jealous of Jungkook for getting such an expressive Yoongi. Your Yoongi is broken. Not to mention now, he has black hair. The Yoongi that’s helping Jungkook out of the colorful club restroom has mint-green hair.
“That’s fine. You know I’d even share her with you, if you asked.” You gawk at the boys as they walk past you, Jungkook oblivious to even you at that moment. It seems like he is the closest to Yoongi, even though you know for a fact Yoongi has never even gone out to bars in the human world. He’s a stickler when it comes to rules. This man is most definitely not someone you know.
You’re sure about one thing, though. He’s got to be the key to healing Jungkook. Yet, you have no idea where to even begin. For now, you settle on following Jungkook from a distance and approaching him when the time is right. This time, when the scene fades, you’re in the middle of a graveyard. Oh hell no.
You see none other than Yoongi, at least his picture, resting on the tombstone. You were so taken aback, you woke up out of shock, like an amateur.
“What? Can’t sleep?” He mocks as he flips to the next page of his book.
“I just saw you. Your past life, it was you!” Yoongi is quick to put his book away, standing up and walking towards you to check your temperature.
“Tell me what happened.”
“You had mint green hair. Jungkook was a close friend of yours, he even went to your funeral. I think he was reliving a memory.”
“But that’s not possible! Five years ago I wasn’t even in the human realm! How could this happen?”
“I don’t know. But I saw it on your tombstone. Yoongi Min, 1993-2016.” Yoongi mutters a couple curses in latin under his breath before turning back to you. “There was a human version of me living at the same time as a Banhee version of me?”
“It looks like it. I was going to seek him out but it doesn’t look like I can anymore.”
“Maybe the one upstairs willed it.”
“You mean to say God actually made it like that so you can help me out with the current situation?” He nods.
“Precisely. We have the same first names, different surnames, but we are most definitely identical. Here, I found a picture of him online. Don’t we look like twins?” You hate to admit it, but it looks like Yoongi will have to help you with this one.
“Creepy.”
“Let’s put a halt on that bet. It’s not fair to either of us if I help you out by pretending to be this Yoongi person,” Your lips curve upwards into a smirk. “But this Yoongi has mint-green hair.” Yoongi shakes his head, grabbing your hand as you reach up to mess with his hair.
You make a quick trip to a beauty store to collect some things like bleach, hair dye, and some makeup just for you. Yoongi glared at you since he was the one paying for everything but it’s not like he does any “obscure human jobs” as he would call them. You’re paid in human money, but all of your pay is collected by the facility that’s holding your family. You’d have to work for 50 years to free them, so during that time you have to depend on Yoongi for money. He gets an average of $3000 per month, plus the money that he’s been saving since the 1920’s, and luckily since the Great Depression only effected the “stupid humans who don’t know how to handle their money,” Yoongi only made more money in the end, racking up tenfold of his pay. The value of his money went up, and he was a millionaire now so it didn’t matter.
He just hated spending money, is all.
You spent the rest of the night dying Yoongi’s hair, bleaching it first before waiting so you could add the mint green dye. Yoongi reminded you of how much he hated you every second of the way.
By 8 am, he was dyed and ready. His mint green hair looked resplendent. You licked your lips and sent him out, not realizing that it was already the next day.
Day 3
Yoongi bumped into Jungkook, breaking his own rules with the “coincidence.” You made sure that it was just a run-in though, something that will make Jungkook’s subconscious mind think about his Yoongi again. Yoongi was determined to help you now more than ever, since it seemed there was a human double of him born with the same name, but he was only a few years older than Jungkook, as opposed to being nearly a whole century older than him.
You knew this would mean Jungkook would dream of Yoongi tonight, and your Yoongi could slip unknowingly to find out more. You needed to know, it seemed as if Yoongi was essential to solving the problem behind Jungkook’s nightmares, the same ones that creep in during the day, leaving him restless and stroppy in the morning.
When night fell, you were ready to hide under the nearest tree you could find. It looks like today, Jungkook is thinking about his friend’s death. Some things remained unclear, as Jungkook fell flat on his face and began sobbing, stirring your own emotions as you empathize with him. Never have you ever felt this way about an assignment before, you only observed from a distance. Seeing Jungkook’s tears roll down his cheeks and his eyes turning puffy only made you more encouraged to help him. Yoongi watches you from his hiding place, smiling as you wipe your own tears, and wait for him to make the next move.
Yoongi walks up to him slowly, after what felt like an eternity, he is directly in front of him.
“Stand up, old friend.” Jungkook’s face lights up at his voice, and his cheeks have retained a lovely rosy hue that you’ve never seen before. He’s just so adorable, the way he chats away with your superior, believing him to be his long-dead friend.
“I miss you a lot these days, you know?” Jungkook turns back to him with a sad smile as he observes his features. “Your green hair was truly iconic. Actually, I think you might have been the only person in Korea to pass away with mint-green hair.” He laughs along with Yoongi making sure to play his part and gain the intel you needed to execute the plan.
“Enough about the green hair. I’m here to check up on you. Heaven has really bad reception so I couldn’t connect to Earth.” Jungkook stifles a laugh at his joke, quieting down when he sees that Yoongi isn’t laughing along.
“I’m leaving this place soon, too,”
Your face turns pale at his words. He couldn’t mean that he wanted to...there was no way. “I’m dying, like a flower blooming in reverse.” It sounded beautiful, when he said it. A part of you wanted to see it for yourself, a flower blooming in reverse. In this case, it seemed that Jungkook was the flower. And a flower can’t possibly turn back into a bud. The only thing it can do is shrivel up and die. You certainly didn’t want to see that happening to Jungkook any time soon.
“It’s called wilting. And also, what do you mean?” Yoongi puts a hand on his hip. You can tell he’s growing impatient.
“I’m losing my will to live. What’s the point of life if there’s no one to share it with? Jimin won’t even come visit your grave because he’s still in denial that you’re gone, Jin is living his dream in America in broadway doing shows, and everyone that we knew before is busy. They moved on with their lives, forgot about you, and us, we were the dream team.”
“That’s a part of life, Kook. I’m sorry if you feel that way now but just because I’m gone it doesn’t mean you should just put a halt on your life. We were the dream team, but now it’s just you. You have to put in an effort to move forward and carry those past experiences with you.”
You never knew the weight of a heavy heart before now.
You resisted running forward as well, letting Yoongi handle this as he was always meant to.
“It’s not that easy, you know? I’ve changed. It’s hard for me to even get a decent night’s sleep with all of the nightmares I have.” Yoongi realizes quickly that Jungkook hasn’t recognized that he is dreaming yet. It is common within humans not to understand that, even when it’s so obvious that their subconscious is altering their dreams while they are in the dream.
“Why don’t you try going to sleep now? I’m sure you can sleep well if you let go.” Yoongi gestures for you to come forward when Jungkook takes his advice and he goes to “bed.” You were in the middle of his bedroom, while he “slept” soundly on a bed. A dream within a dream.
“What do we do? We’ve never tried to help someone like this before.” Yoongi shrugs.
“This way, if he gets too excited and wakes up, he will still be dreaming. It’s a simple banshee-dream surfing hack.” You roll your eyes, relaxing for only a minute before Jungkook begins to stir in his bed.
“Now, put your hand on his forehead. You are going to go inside his dream and confront his problems next to him.” You nervously look up at Yoongi, before putting your hand down on his forehead. Even his forehead is hot. Does this man have to be so sexy all the time?
You were back on the empty road. Except this time Yoongi was there, but it wasn’t your Yoongi. This Yoongi was human, bleeding bright crimson blood, and he was as good as dead. You felt a rush of fear for a moment, having to remind yourself that the real Yoongi is watching you from outside, as you were inside a dream within a dream.
“Please, wake up.” Jungkook desperately shakes his friend, crying as he lies limp in his arms.
“He’s gone, Jungkook.”
“Why are you here again?!” He snaps, and all you can do is wonder how to save yourself the trouble of an explanation.
And then he wakes up.
Day 4
“Since you screwed up so bad yesterday, I wanted to ask you if you’ll stay out of trouble and avoid interacting with Jungkook unless you absolutely have to.”
“Yes sir.” You salute your mentor as you drink a glass of milk before curling up in your comfy bed.
Yoongi was going to join you again in the dreamscape, this time making Jungkook show him the answers without asking. He was a master of deception, making sure to lure his assignments into a false sense of security before making them face their biggest nightmare only to make them realize that they were their own enemy all along.
It was surprising how most of the time, things turned out exactly the same way, with there being a 99% chance that the reason why a person isn’t able to move forward in their life, it is due to their own fears of failure. One should never be afraid of the unknown, as the possibilities for success are endless.
All that he had to do was show Jungkook what could happen if he would just let go of his friend’s death.
He is standing in the middle of a dark and desolate dreamscape, as you duck behind a dead tree only to see that flowers bloom at your touch. This could only mean one thing: you were starting to creep into his subconscious, his deeper thoughts as you appeared many times in his dreams before and now he was actively thinking of you.
You felt flattered at first, before you realized that this could potentially ruin the entire plan.
You stay hidden and watch Yoongi as he bends and controls the environment to his will, showing Jungkook a vision of an ideal family. His future if he learned to let go. His picture-perfect (faceless) wife and two kids, his furnace burning bright as winter came early, and a little golden retriever puppy.
“This isn’t right. I should be married to her,” Jungkook mutters to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear. You see Jungkook create a different version of you from his memory, but since it is a dream it isn’t perfect. You know it’s you because she’s wearing the same red dress you wore when you were fooling around in his dreams before the bet even started in the first place. “She’s the only one for me.” You feel something similar to an earthquake, as Jungkook’s dreamscape shakes violently. You come flying out of your hiding place, Yoongi’s hand reaching out to you a smidge too late as you face Jungkook.
“Who are you?” He inquires, once again reaching out to you as you gaze into his deep brown eyes, admiring his handsomeness before being yanked out from the dream by your superior.
You sit up straight in bed, as if you had just walked right out of the dream realm. Your awareness was intact, and Yoongi was sitting beside you, in his prized rocking chair. You knew with whatever you were planning now, you needed to involve Yoongi.
“Yoongi, do you know where Banshees come from?” Yoongi groans as you ask him the same question all the little ones back in your world ask you.
“No. As I told you before, there’s no exact science.”
“Then does that mean everything I am doing is for nothing? I’m helping my supposed “family” by doing this job but I don’t think I really understand who it is I’m helping. As far as I know, my parents didn’t raise me. They could be dead.” Yoongi sighs, putting a hand on your shoulder as you tell him about your worries.
“While some of that may be true, I know that you are the closest thing that I have to a sister right now. Even if you feel doubt about your birth family, stop thinking about them. I’m the loneliest creature on this planet. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a partner and I’m glad they chose you. You keep me company, and the house feels more lively with you. So what do you say? If you won’t do this for your real family, do this for me?” How could you possibly say no to him when he puts it like that?
“You are my real family, dummy. And who said I was quitting? I just don’t know if I can pull this off yet.” You share an embrace before running off to make yourselves some hot coco.
Meanwhile, across the street when Jungkook wakes up in his bed, he notices the couple running around in their apartment, and upon closer inspection, he noticed that you bore very similar resemblance to someone he saw in his dreams. He didn’t get a good look at the guy, but he also looked familiar.
Jungkook tucked the thought away in the back of his mind, planning to investigate it later, after work. He hops out of bed to get the day started, only thinking of his ideal girl and Yoongi. His past was starting to matter less and less to him, so he felt like he could accomplish a lot more today.
Maybe you were starting to make some progress on him.
Day 5
Jungkook’s dream started off a nightmare again. The recurring car crash scene played out before him, but instead of colliding with the glass and flying through the air in slow motion, he stopped it by holding out his hand.
“I knew it, I’m dreaming!” You and Yoongi share a look of fear as humans who are aware that they are dreaming are not to be messed with. If either of you exposed the magical world to a human, the kind of trouble you would get in is far worse than life in jail.
“We have to get out of here.” Whispered Yoongi as you met in the clouds. It was the only place you could hide, since Jungkook had awareness and it was a bad idea to be seen while he was in a state to make sense of things.
“How?”
“We need to wake him up somehow. Maybe we should trick him!”
“Yoongi, what are you thinking of doing?” You ask as he stands up, preparing to jump down from the cloud.
“I’m gonna try and wake him up. With my true form.” You shake your head at that, trying to grab onto his legs as he floats down.
He turns an ugly shade of blue, his pale skin an unnatural shade of white, the same white that corpses turn after spending hours at the morgue. His hair turns black, and grows out just a little too long. His legs become crooked, bending an unnatural way as Jungkook turns around to face him.
“AHHHHHHH!” He wakes up immediately, pulling you and Yoongi out of your dream sequence.
“Good going. Although, I can never figure out how to make my legs do that.” Yoongi shrugs, before hopping out of bed and leaving you confused.
“Wait, you slept next to me last night? I don’t remember that…” He ignored you as he quickly got out his phone and started going through emails he had received from HQ in the human world. Who would’ve thought? The fancy software company uptown was a cover for all of the monsters working in the human world.
“Oh no, they’re asking me for a progress report.”
“So?” You didn’t know why he sounded so stressed all of a sudden.
“By now he shouldn’t be having that car nightmare. What are we gonna do?” He grips your shoulders as you comfort him with patting his hands.
“There, there. Don’t cry. I think we can do this in three days. We have to use Yoongi, though. The one from Jungkook’s memories.”
While you were busy with Yoongi in your apartment, Jungkook was groveling in his own place, remembering the painful events from the past which led him here.
Yoongi tried killing himself, multiple times. But he saved Jungkook when he was about to get hit by a car. It wasn’t just him. His friends were there too. They came running to find them in the corner of an alleyway after Yoongi had been run over and Jungkook was too shocked to speak.
He was closer with Yoongi than any of the others so when he died, a part of himself died as well. Yoongi was depressed after his last girlfriend left him. They were so close but then out of the blue she ghosted him and blocked his number and everything. Jungkook couldn’t do much to help except play piano for the man when he asked. While Yoongi smoked on his ugly green couch, Jungkook would play.
The same song which haunts him to this day.
Day 6
“When will I see you again?” Jungkook asked as he reached out to the apparition of Yoongi.
He disappeared, turning into smoke when Jungkook tried to touch him. “Why am I so lonely?”
“You’re not lonely because he left. You’re lonely because you miss him.” When he turned around, you were standing before him, in your red dress. Just as he remembered seeing you the first time.
“You’re the girl who’s been appearing in my dreams every night.” You looked down at your gown, deciding to own up to the fact that you’d been showing up in his dreams.
“At first, I thought you were just a cute boy with a troubled past. But I see your past is a lot more than just that.” You sit next to him as he sits down in an empty patch of grass, surrounded by a beautiful garden at his feet.
“How did you get in my head? Surely I would remember what my own crush looks like.” You shake your head. At first, making him fall in love with you was your ultimate goal. You didn’t want to continue deceiving him like this, pretending that you were some angel when you’re not.
“I’m not anyone you know. I’m just here to help and leave after I’m done.”
“What do you mean?” With the way he was looking at you right now, you were a sure goner. His long, black curls forming a natural halo around his head as his face...his soft cheeks blush a light pink. Under the sunset and the dreamy atmosphere, Jungkook looks unreal. It didn’t take long for his lips to connect with yours.
When you woke up from the excitement, you knew you were screwed. There’s no way you could come back now.
“Yoongi!” You called out for your partner as he continued fixing hot chocolate for you. “I need to meet him in real life. Every time I get too close, he just wakes up. Dreaming isn’t going to help anymore, I need to take action in the real world.”
“But Y/N, I can’t let you do that. He’s a human and if he even sees you, he’ll know you aren’t an ordinary girl.” You look at your own skin, dreading how you looked at the moment because you were no greek goddess when it came to looks. You just had control over what you looked like in the dream realm so you appeared human.
“I need to try, Yoongi. Maybe I’ll hide my face. My eyes give it all away. Or maybe I could get contacts like you.”
“No contacts. And no going out alone. How many times do I have to tell you? It is against the rules to initiate contact with a subject directly if not in the dream realm. Even then, you have to keep a distance because there’s a rule about that too.”
“Screw you and your rules! I’ll do what I want. This dream dust is mine.”
“Y/N, no!” Yoongi called out to you as you sprinkled the last of the dream dust on you, drifting off to sleep just to arrive at a party.
“Where am I?”
“You’re at our frat partayyy! Could you do me a favor and go make out with our newest recruit over there? It’s part of our initiation to kiss a girl before being sworn in.” You walked over to the direction the guy pointed you in, seeing a frightened Jungkook sitting alone.
“Hey, are you Jungkook?” You pretend like this is the first time you’re seeing him, since he didn’t know he was dreaming and a lot of dialogue is very scripted in these kinds of dreams as well.
“Yeah.”
“Come with me.” You pulled him towards the closet, making it so that when you entered, you would enter a different place.
“Where are we now?”
“Our first date. Cotton candy?” Jungkook didn’t question you, but he had his doubts as you headed to the Ferris Wheel. You were in the middle of a fair, but Jungkook didn’t seem to be enjoying himself at the moment.
“You’re the dream girl!” You whacked his arm, smiling sheepishly like you were having a natural reaction to what he said even though you kissed a couple dreams ago.
“Aw, I didn’t think I was your ideal type. I guess we got lucky, huh?” You kissed his cheek as he stayed completely still, blinking a few times as the world around you started to crumble. He was about to wake up, but you didn’t want to be present when he did. You quickly used your power to lull his dream self to sleep, putting him down under a safe place before going into his dream within his dream.
“Jungkook! What are you doing here?” He was currently sitting with a group of people, around a campfire as you ran towards him in a new outfit so it looked like you randomly stumbled upon this place.
“What a coincidence. I was out here toasting marshmallows and I found you.” You felt a pang of guilt in your heart from lying to him but you couldn’t disclose your identity so quickly! You were keen on healing him.
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
“No way, I’m not ditching my friends.” You waved your hand behind your back, making the people disappear.
“Too bad, because it looks like they already left you,” You giggle as he groans, before grabbing a stick for you to toast. “Thank you.” You snack on the marshmallow as he asks you some things.
“So are we a thing now?” You nearly choke on your stick as Jungkook awaits an answer.
“I guess. I never really liked labels though, how about we just call it “us?” It’s a lot easier when we don’t have to explain it.”
“You’re right,” Jungkook stays silent for a bit, making the entire exchange feel almost...normal. “You like me, right?” You stay silent for a few seconds, enjoying the calm environment for once.
“Yes.”
When you wake up this time, It’s a lot more clearer and satisfying. You finished your dream, and now Jungkook trusts you. You knew it would be only a matter of time before Jungkook was fully healed.
“Are you happy now? You went back into his dream and threw the rulebook out of the window,” Says Yoongi as you feel a slight pain in the back of your head. “Oh, and I didn’t try to move you from your spot because you just looked like you were sleeping peacefully.”
“Jerk.” You get up, dusting yourself off and glaring at your “partner” before going off to change. You liked wearing different clothes around the house because it made you feel like time was moving forward. Or else everyday just feels like the same day repeating over and over again.
You also put on some makeup, forgetting in between that you had some lipstick on so you ended up swallowing some products but it was okay because nothing was too harmful. Monsters ate all kinds of trash back in your world, anyways. The foundation gives you a more natural look since your skin was an ashy shade of blue and very pale without it.
You went about your day like normal until a doorbell rang, alerting you and Yoongi. “I didn’t see any emails about a dream inspector checking up on us today.” Yoongi whispers as you stay completely still.
“Maybe it’s a surprise visit?” You hoped no one found out about your selfish actions while you were in Jungkook’s dream. Kissing him was already a huge breach of the rules.
When you open the door, you’re at a loss for words. Jungkook was standing before you, looking at you and Yoongi like he had seen a ghost. Before he could say anything, you pull him inside the apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Day 7
You put Jungkook to sleep before saying anything else, silent as mice as he rested on your multicolored retro bean bag. Yoongi paces back and forth, flipping through his handbook and nursing you internally.
“Dammit. There’s nothing about this in the rulebook.”
“That’s because regular people solve these things with their heads. You have a brain, so use it!” You knock some sense into him before kneeling down to take Jungkook’s pulse.
“Let’s go into his dream and see what it is that needs fixing. Maybe when he wakes up I can sprinkle him with some five-minute forgetting powder.”
“Do you think that’ll work?” You ask with worry as Yoongi rushes to look at all of the beakers filled with magical potions and fairy dust and other things he might need to make dream dust. You still didn’t have the recipe.
“I don’t know. But I trust you and after seeing how you handled most of this on your own, I’ll let you finish it. Alone.” You squeak in excitement, staying quiet as Jungkook snores lightly and turns over in the beanbag.
“Hurry, he’s gonna wake up.” Yoongi panicked and spilled some sleep powder on him, that’s why Jungkook was unconscious but he wasn’t in such a state where he would dream. It was a temporary formula, meant to last only a few minutes before he woke up again. Unless Yoongi doused him in dream dust. You got ready to follow him into his dreams again one last time, as Yoongi held the bag of dust over your heads, making sure you were snuggled up beside Jungkook in the bed before sprinkling you both with dream dust.
“I must be dreaming.” Jungkook blinks twice as you come into view. He was currently standing in your apartment, the same one he visited before he passed out. Except Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, it was just you.
“Would you like some tea, coffee, water?” You offer, acting like you were another figure in his dreams.
“Water is fine, thanks,” You watch him swipe his fingers through his long, curly hair. He looks so dreamy, sitting before you on the breakfast bar where you eat with Yoongi everyday. You wouldn’t mind spending every morning with him. Jungkook seems like the ideal husband. Yet the idea of settling down with a human scares you, you would never be allowed to expose your true self to him. Even if you dated him, you’d have to end up leaving him one day. It’s the only way to protect your world. Humans can be dangerous and destructive creatures. Who knows what would happen if Jungkook went to the news? You would be called a freak, or even worse by local news stations.
You got lost in your thoughts for a moment before Jungkook brought you back. “Why did you move here? To this town, I mean.” Jungkook knew this city was relatively tiny and all of the people knew each other.
“I wanted to get away. From responsibilities, my old life.”
“Did your boyfriend want that too?” You nearly spit out your drink at that, Jungkook thought Yoongi was your boyfriend?
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a boyfriend. Only an older brother, if I have to label him that.”
“Oh, I see.” Jungkook sips his water in silence, watching you with those innocent doe eyes.
“What’s troubling you?” You ask him as he suddenly looks sad, morrow filling his gaze as he continues to stare at you.
“I’m all alone in this world.” He sighs, as you put a hand on his shoulder.
“No you’re not. You have me, and your memories of Yoongi.” Jungkook’s breathing turns shallow.
“You’re just an extension of me. As much as I want you to be real I can’t even remember what your face looks like,” With all of your might, you try to make your surroundings more detailed just so Jungkook could remember the dream better when he wakes up. “What is your name?” He asks after careful consideration.
“Y/N.”
“What a beautiful name.” He kisses you ever so slightly, leaning in after you backed away momentarily.
“You’re a distraction.” You shut your eyes tightly as he places the most tender kisses on your exposed neck.
“What does that make you?” He grins, cheekily sliding his tongue over the surface of your lips.
“I’m only a woman.” You give into your desires, kissing him full on the lips after realizing that you don’t care about the consequences to your actions. You want to kiss him, dammit!
“You make me feel less lonely.”
“Here, take this with you.” You press a picture into his warm palm, leaving him to wonder why you were acting so hasty.
“Why? What is it?”
“When you feel lonely or sad, just look at this picture. It’s a picture of me.” Jungkook looks down for a moment, to examine the item you gifted to him.
“Why are you acting like we don’t have much time together? You’re gonna keep visiting me, right?” You wipe your nose. You and Jungkook were never meant to be.
“Goodbye, Jungkook.”
“Y/N, wait!”
When Jungkook woke up, he felt something sticking to his palms. He was alone, but he could have sworn he felt another warmth. In his hand was a polaroid picture of a girl smiling at the camera. He felt comforted just looking at the picture, and turning it around he found a message on the back.
“I’ll always be with you- Y/N.” Jungkook smiles, looking at the bright afternoon sun as it blinds him through the sheer white curtains. It looks like he was able to meet his dream girl after all.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook#yoongi#bts#fluff#oneshot#jungkook imagine#jungkook fluff#Female reader#yoonkook#BTS jungkook#jeon jungkook#death#cute jungkook
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What would Harry and Draco be like if they were parents? How would your take on it be from their child/ren's birth to adulthood?
Sorry if my English doesn't sound right.
Well, on the one hand I don’t think either of them would want to have children. Or rather, neither wants to be a parent. Harry knows too well what a bad childhood does to you and I imagine he would be terrified at the prospect of something happening to Draco and him and leaving his child an orphan. Sure, Ron and Hermione would take that hypothetical kid, but what if something happened to them too? And to the rest of the Weasleys? And Luna? And Neville? What would happen to the kid them? James and Lily gave Harry a godfather and it didn’t stop Harry from growing up in an abusive home. So Harry would be super anxious about that, imagining more and more elaborate scenarios in which anyone remotely capable of raising a kid without giving them life-long trauma would be unavailable, and Harry’s kid would end up in hard and uncaring hands, just like Harry and Neville.
(And I’m sure Neville doesn’t help on that respect when he says he won’t be having kids and if he has any, he wants them to have their mother surname. No Longbottom will have a claim to them).
Draco knows his parenting role models are awful. He was extremely spoiled while also suffering immense pressure. Draco got all the candy and gifts he ever wanted, but he was also expected to excel at school, be a powerful wizard and become a Death Eater. It’s not that he doesn’t have a frame of reference, it’s that the one he has is really, really, bad. How do you go not giving your child a mix of anxiety and self-absorption? He would sure like to know.
On the other hand, I’m sure that Harry will adopt anyone who stands still long enough. He is not one to let pain make him hard and cold. Rather, his suffering made him more compassionate.
So he and Draco would eventually adopt a kid (or two or three). Although they might also get an accidental biological magical child too. Let’s give the kid a name, just to make writing easier. Say, Celeste. Celeste the most likely adopted, but still possibly biological magical child.
Celeste would be happy and loved. Probably an only-child for a long time, because both Harry and Draco would still be scared at the notion of parenthood. Celeste would learn quickly to entertain themselves and relate to adults better than to other children.
Harry would stress about Celeste’s wellbeing and having them be self-reliable. Draco would insist on letting the child express themselves and find their own interests. There would be a lot of mistakes and doubts, but overall they would do fine.
Celeste would grow up under the assumption that candy exists only as a Weasley family tradition. Like, candy is something that the Weasleys do but no other household has it. Celeste has certainly never seen a candy treat that didn’t come from Weasley hands.
It’s because Draco has this weird crusade against treats. He got so many as a child! It’s a wonder Draco didn’t develop an eating disorder. There were many other aspects where Draco was spoiled silly, but since he wants Celeste to have a broom and learn to fly young, and also play an instrument and what’s the word? A game-boy, Celeste ought to play muggle games too, Draco is focusing on treats and candy which are completely banned at their household. The Weasleys just ignore the prohibition. It evens out. Celeste has some candy, but not as much as they would otherwise get.
I love the idea of Celeste developing magic (especially if they are some sort of magical biological child, because people would see them as Potter 3.0 Malfoy edition) receiving the Hogwarts letter, going to Diagon Alley to buy a wand, everything, all the little traditions and rituals, and once they arrive to Hogwarts… they don’t like it. Beautiful magical place, yes, but it’s still a boarding school. Putting aside that everyone, from teachers to students, looks at them weird because of who Celeste’s parents are, Celeste misses home, isn’t making friends because it takes them a while to open up and overall is having a bad time.
So Harry and Draco take Celeste back home. No questions. Their child wrote saying they didn’t like it there, so Harry and Draco removed their child from that situation immediately. There is no reason they can’t apparate every day for lessons and even if there were, even if there were all kind of obstacles… Their child wrote asking for help and harry and Draco want to do better.
They take Celeste home, where Celeste has all their stuff, is happy and can see Oso. (Oso is the family dog. A huge mastiff so called after a picture in a children’s book. The picture was of a bear, but to be honest Oso does look like a bear to any well informed three-year old).
Of course Hogwarts doesn’t agree with the new arrangement. Harry reminds them that on Halloween of his first year they had a troll roaming inside and things only got worse after that. Harry is told that most of those unfortunate events where a consequence of Voldemort. Nowadays Hogwarts is perfectly safe and perhaps Harry is letting his anxieties take undue hold of him.
“What about the student bullying?” Harry says, with heroic calm. He would rather set the desk on fire.
“What about it? There are centaurs in the forest, but no bulls, I assure you, and as you well known, Mr Potter, students are prohibited from wandering the forest. I do think you are seeing threats where there are none”.
Ah, of course. The wizarding world isn’t familiar with the concept of “bullying”. The application and execution, they know it well, but they don’t’ have a word for what is considered normal conduct.
Celeste attends the rest of the year as if it were a normal school, which is widely criticized although there are also many other parents interested.
And then… The academic year ends and Celeste drops out of Hogwarts. The whole wizarding world comes to a stop, although one should specify that in this case “the whole wizarding world” means “English wizarding society”. The continent doesn’t care if a child attends school or not. Welsh and Scotland care, but not enough to come to a halt. They do discuss it, but they go on with their business. It’s the English wizards who seem to have a problem with it. From September to December the papers write about nothing else.
The things is, Celeste has acquired some of Harry’s anxieties and is concerned with how little they were learning at Hogwarts. A lot of magic, yes, but nothing on language (and Celeste loves reading and learning languages) and even less about math. Not that Celeste likes math, but they worry about not knowing how to adequately manage the family fortune when their parents are gone. You know how wealth does not last three generations? Well, it certainly won’t if Celeste doesn’t learn how to balance expenses. Celeste wants to learn enough that they won’t be vulnerable to their solicitor., and when they put it that way even his gransfather has to admit there is a point.
(And maybe Harry failed Celeste here, letting his child worry so much about becoming an orphan, but Harry routinely receives dead threats and Draco has suffered two attempts on his life, so).
Harry couldn’t be more proud. No benevolent-looking wizard will take advantage of Celeste. Draco is also very happy because Celeste’s muggle school has art lessons in the curriculum and they have Drama as an extra-curricular. Celeste doesn’t want to sign to Theatre, but the mere fact it’s there pleases Draco immensely.
The ministry makes Celeste sits the OWLs in order to keep their wand. There are parents asking about educations alternatives, so the Ministry hopes that once Celeste fails people will accept Hogwarts as it comes, none of that day-school nonsense and hiring qualified teachers.
Except muggle school prepares you really well for the study process (or maybe, it simply prepares you better than magical schools do) so Celeste excels at the written exams. They do really, really, well, which is something Hermione Granger had been predicting for the last four years but nobody listened to her, so she is even more chuffed than Harry and Draco. Hermione has won sixteen different bets and is going to bring parliamentary reform to the education system.
Celeste’s spell work could see some improvement, but they have no trouble conjuring a corporeal patronus and that still qualifies as an automatic O in DADA. With that and some luck in Transfigurations, Celeste graduates Hogwarts having only attended a year. Lucius Malfoy, who is still racist but above all is a social creature and social climber, gives a week-long ball to celebrate his grandchild academic achievement. He also gifts Celeste a summer trip around Europe. Correction, because Lucius knows both Harry and Draco, but specially Draco, are very strict with gifts, he makes a donation to Celeste’s school language club. Did Lucius pay so thirty-odd muggle teenagers can spend three weeks around Europe practicing their foreign languages? Why, he sure did. And you won’t disappoint said children, will you Draco? I will take the money back if you ask me to, but little Prisha will be crushed.
There is a Prisha in Celeste’s school. Lucius is either weirdly stalkerish or paying attention to Celeste.
So maybe Celeste has inherited some anxieties and complexes, like many children do, but Lucius has become a better person and a pretty cool grandfather, so overall I think Harry and Draco are good parents.
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Oliver Jackson-Cohen, on Bly Manor and Other Things That Haunt Him
by Diana Colcer for Cosmopolitan Romania, 24 October 2020
Energetic, suave, and anchored in the reality of the problems around us, Oliver Jackson-Cohen is part of a generation of actors looking for something else, something that will remain imprinted in the collective memory. I talked about this with the actor you know from The Haunting - by the way, the latest season, The Haunting of Bly Manor, now on Netflix, is the ideal choice for a scary night, if you want to spend Halloween at home this year. Let's see what Oliver Jackson-Cohen has to say about Bly Manor and other things that haunt him.
"Why choose a role that's safe when you can take risks?" This is the question that came to my mind as I was documenting the interview with Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Because that's what I was gathering from the things we know about him. You first saw Oliver as Luke in The Haunting of Hill House - and now, just in time for Halloween, you can see him again alongside Victoria Pedretti in the even scarier second season, The Haunting of Bly Manor. In this adaptation of the short ghost story The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, Oliver Jackson-Cohen plays the charming and manipulative Peter Quint, a character who hides many scary secrets and… I won't give away more!
So you understand what I'm talking about: Oliver is used to playing characters haunted both by their own inner conflicts (PTSD due to childhood traumas, drug addiction, etc.) and, well, ghosts. And the answer to the question at the beginning of the text, which I did not ask out loud, was given to me while I was talking to him. Born in London, Oliver, the son of fashion designer Betty Jackson, has dedicated his entire career to a different philosophy of acting, starting from the premise that fear makes you grow, develop and get out of your comfort zone.
And that's exactly how most of his roles are. After the BBC drama Larkrise to Candleford, he starred in the Emmy Award-nominated mini-series World Without End, then in shows such as Dracula and Man in an Orange Shirt. In real life, when he "strips off" his characters, Oliver is a guy oozing charisma and sex appeal: he’s 1.91m tall and has a pair of blue eyes in which you can get really lost, an extremely attractive and a style of being (and, let’s face it, dressing) extremely cool.
So, he’s one to watch, and, as such, we invite you to read the interview he gave us exclusively for Cosmopolitan Romania, after which we found out spectacular details about the unseen parts of horror, fashion, lifestyle and what Oliver Jackson-Cohen has something to say about Bly Manor and other things that haunt him.
What made you determined, at only 6 years old, to become an actor? Simple! I saw Home Alone at the movies and suddenly I wanted to be Kevin McAllister. I just couldn't believe a child was appearing in a movie. I remember my father explaining to me that he was an actor and then I said to myself, "Well, I'll do all that, too."
Many people who discover their dream at such a young age change their minds later. How did you stay in acting?
Looking back, it was probably a stupid thought [process]. But I became fascinated by how you can disappear into another world and how you can become whoever you want. I still think that these things are what kept up my passion for acting. I love the whole process behind this job and the way you translate into reality something that is not, in fact, real. It's also been about luck, I admit - that people pay me to do that, and that's how I make a living.
You appeared in the first season of The Haunting of Hill House as Luke Crain. I was impressed with how you managed to get Luke away from the typical drug addict stereotype. How did you avoid this cliché? I have seen many portrayals of drug addicts over the years and I wanted to show what the person behind the addiction is like, the one who is not defined by this addiction. I think that's an extremely important thing. All over the world, people are struggling with drug addiction and, most of the time, they are excluded and marginalised because of this, but also because they are seen only in this way, as addicts. I didn't intend to do this with Luke. I felt that it was essential for the public to see the man in him, to see that he is someone who is really shaken inside, someone who has lost control of what is happening to him, but who is always trying to control his addiction.
As a society, we usually condemn or shun such people. We need more empathy in these cases, and these people need to receive the attention shown primarily to them, not to the addiction they suffer from.
When your work is so rigorous, so emotional, I imagine it consumes you a lot to play a character who has struggled with addictions all his life. How do you detach yourself from this intensity? I can't tell you exactly. I don't think you can, to be honest. For the series The Haunting… the filming was long and stressful for all the actors, but also for the crew. I think you have to gradually detach yourself from the story, as much as you can, when you get home, but at the same time, you have to stay in the character's shoes, because the next day you return to the set for a new round of filming. It was a demanding experience, but it was worth it.
Is there anything you wish you’d known before you started working a horror TV show? Or about a series with an intense family drama? Know that it's not that scary when you're filming. Not at all. I started working from the pre-production phase and I knew it was going to be a ghost series… and, initially, I had the impression that there was always “someone” in my Atlanta apartment. But from the moment you get on set, you realise that the series about ghosts is just another job. The coolest thing when you are part of a horror series is when you realise, in the end, that you can watch it [later] without any problems, because all the tension and panic are built up in the editing process.
I know you're a big fan of the horror genre in general. Is it an area you want to explore further? I think so. But I wouldn't say that I intended, from the beginning, specifically, to explore any certain genre. Everything is, in fact, in the characters. Always. If it's an interesting role, I definitely want it. But what I find incredible about this genre is that the dose of horror is often a metaphor for other elements of our lives. But when horror is done properly, it can affect us incredibly, which is true.
You're back to haunt us again in the second season of the Netflix anthology series, this time called The Haunting of Bly Manor. What can you tell me about the new character you play? I'm afraid I don't want to reveal too much and I'd rather you watch the show and form your own impression. All I can say is that the new series, Bly Manor, is completely different from the first, which I like. My current character, a young man named Peter, is the polar opposite of Luke, so for me, as an actor, he was wonderful. Ah, also don’t even try to watch this season at night, alone at home, because the plot is really creepy!
About The Invisible Man, another classic monster comeback, in which you play alongside Elisabeth Moss (The Handmaid's Tale), what can you tell me? The film debates the notion of ownership of a person (editor’s note: Jackson-Cohen's character is a sociopath obsessed with control, and we don't know if he terrorises his ex-girlfriend as a ghost or if he actually staged his death). I look forward to seeing how this film will be received by the public, because Leigh Whannell is an incredible screenwriter and director. He wrote a fresh story, which I find brilliant, which follows the Invisible Man in the context of connections with other characters, but also with real people. It's a very clever movie.
How would you best describe yourself using the title of a movie?
Hm… The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, the classic directed by Sergio Leone in 1966.
Are you into fashion? Yes, I really am. I was raised by my parents who worked in the fashion industry, which influenced me quite a lot over the years.
Do you wear high-fashion pieces in everyday life? Why not?!
Your mother is the designer Betty Jackson. Has he ever given you advice on clothing style?
I don't know if she gave me style advice in the true sense of the word, but it's great to talk to her about style and clothes. Her belief has always been one like "Wear something that makes you feel good,” so I adopted this perspective as well. She is an incredible woman, with a good eye for fashion, so she often helps me.
You divide your life between London and Los Angeles. How do men groom themselves in the two cities? Have you noticed different approaches?
Probably. LA is a more eccentric place in terms of style and fashion, with more pressure to that end, at least from what I've noticed. In Los Angeles, it's more important to look good physically. In London, on the other hand, it seems more important to combine clothes and accessories in a cool and smart way.
How do you stay in shape?
I honestly don’t care. I only exercise when I have to, and when I don't have to, I eat everything I can. I go to the gym if I notice that my weight is getting out of control.
What do you like to do in your free time?
To be the laziest person. Seriously. I would love to count all the hours I’ve spent sleeping or lazing around!
#oliver jackson-cohen#oliver jackson cohen#peter quint#luke crain#thobm#the haunting of bly manor#the invisible man#interviews#2020#photo shoots#translated by me and google
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Therapy Session (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}
Title: Therapy Session Rating: PG Length: 2000 Warnings: Mild Angst. Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in January 1999. Summary: Reader goes to therapy after the holidays.
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Nancy carefully removed her glasses sitting them atop her desk before opening a drawer and pulling out a glasses cleaning cloth. “How were the holidays?”
You watched her hands as she wiped each lean carefully, inspecting them for smudges.
“Surprisingly relaxing.” You offered, shifting on the sofa as your gaze flickered towards the clock on the wall. Javier had agreed to joining you for today’s session — at Nancy’s prompting.
“You slipped your December session,” Nancy pointed out.
“It was a busy month.” You pushed your fingers through your hair nervously. “But a good one. We went to Laredo for Thanksgiving, came back and went headfirst into planning for Christmas.”
“And how did Christmas go?”
“Really well,” You caught your lip between your teeth, hesitating for just a second. “Mitch and his family came down from Philly. It was good to see him again. All of them, really.”
“So you did follow through with that,” Nancy tilted her head, her eyes meeting yours briefly. “Did it bring any memories back to the surface?” She questioned.
“I…” You started glancing down at your hands. “There have been a lot of memories since October.”
“And how does it feel to be addressing them again? Based on your session in November,” Nancy flipped open her notebook. “You repressed quite a bit of your childhood.”
“Yes.” You agreed. “But, Javier was incredible and let me vent about the past. He kept me grounded. He was so understanding.”
She nodded, making a note in the book. “How have you been managing the memories?
You blinked, “I’m not running from them, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I mentioned nothing about running.”
“No, but…” You frowned. “It’s just the impression I get. After the last session—“
“When it became clear that you avoided addressing deeply traumatic aspects of your life during your subsequent visits?” Nancy arched a brow at you as she replaced her glasses, peering at you over the rims. “Why is it that you see yourself as running from your trauma?”
“Because I’ve moved past it.” You said with an edge to your voice, “Would you prefer that I dwell on it?” You questioned. “It would keep me coming back, wouldn't it?”
Nancy made a note in the book, “Defensive.”
You folded your arms across your chest, “I spent sixteen years living in the trauma and five trying to grow out of it.” You gritted out. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t second guess my actions out of fear that I’ve become her.”
“So you haven’t moved past it?”
“No, I—“
Nancy gave you a skeptical look. “It’s not uncommon to feel like your trauma is ever present, but you have to accept and address that. You can’t simply pretend it away.”
“I have addressed it.” You retorted. “I’ve packed it up, stamped a label on it, and have it ready to ship.”
Nancy shook her head, “Trauma is never fully overcome, it's a process you have to work at.” She jotted another note down. “You mentioned feeling like you’ve become her… Would you care to elaborate?”
You chewed on your thumbnail, looking away from her for a long moment. “I stress about motherhood. I’m consciously aware of doing everything the opposite of what she did while raising my girls. I want them to have everything I didn’t have.”
“Like what?”
“Love.” You answered without hesitation. “Javier and I love each other in a way my mother was never capable of loving her partners. And on top of that, I try to show them the love they deserve. That’s part of the reason why I ended up here to begin with. The way I felt after Sofía was born scared me.”
Nancy nodded, glancing down at the notebook. “The fact that you’re aware of your actions, would indicate that you’re not following the same patterns as your mother.”
“I hope I’m not.” You sighed heavily, looking towards the door as someone knocked at it. “That’ll be Javier.” You told Nancy as she got up to answer the door.
“Welcome,” Nancy ushered him in. “We were just finishing our first half of the session.” She gestured to you, “Please, sir.”
Javier sank down onto the sofa beside you, reaching over to take your hand into his. “How are you doing, baby?” He questioned, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle.
You shrugged, “We’re about ten minutes into — why I didn’t address the mother elephant in the room.”
He squeezed your hand three times.
“How have you been, Javier?” Nancy questioned as she sat down at her desk again. “How were the holidays?”
“I’ve been good.” He answered, shifting on the sofa as he got comfortable. “We went to see my pops for Thanksgiving, took the girls and the dog and made a week of it.” Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, glancing at you. “Did you tell her about your brother coming to visit?”
You nodded.
“How did that go?”
“Really well,” Javier offered, shrugging a shoulder. “Christmas Eve we had friends and family altogether to welcome them, “Christmas morning was just family.”
Nancy nodded, “We didn’t get to meet after the Halloween incident.” She flipped through her notebook. “How did you cope with the scenario?”
“How did I cope?” He cocked his head to the side. “Frankly, it wasn’t about how I felt during it. I was merely there to stand up for her.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
“But given what I was told, it seems that her mother antagonized you. How did that make you feel?”
Javier cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together. “Not great, but after our relationship ended up in the public spotlight, I learned to ignore outside commentary.”
You reached out and ran your hand down his back, “Rebecca knows where to strike.” You added. “She would’ve lashed out similarly to any man in my life. She knew that my father was my lifeline and she always saw any male figure in my life as a threat.”
Javier nodded his head in agreement. “We worked through it. I listened, I comforted… everything you taught us to do after Sofía was born.”
Nancy hastily wrote in her notebook, “On a scale of one to ten, how well do you think the situation was handled.”
He blinked, “Nine?”
You pursed your lips and nodded in agreement, “I’d say nine too.”
“Interesting.” Nancy hummed and your expression fell.
“Interesting?”
“Nothing negative about interesting,” She assured you. “And how has your intimacy been? Has it suffered during this tumultuous period?”
You felt your cheeks warm as you shook your head, “No, it’s been good.”
“A few stolen minutes when the girls are asleep,” Javier added, staring at the ground.
“There was also the night at the ranch,” You pointed out, leaning your arm against his. That had been a risky endeavor, considering you were very much not alone. “And we were kid free for New Year’s Eve.”
Nancy nodded and took a few more notes before closing her notebook and looking between the two of you, “What are the faces for?”
You felt Javier tense beside you, “Nothing we’re comfortable with sharing right now.” You told Nancy, looping your arm through his. “Just rest assured that we’ve got intimacy covered. No dry spells here.”
Javier’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, “Definitely no complaints here.”
You fought the smirk that was playing at the corners of your lips. New Year’s Eve had been all of two days ago — and the memory of Javier writhing beneath you was still vivid in your mind.
But that was not a conversation for therapy.
Nancy hummed thoughtfully as she sat her glasses atop her notebook. “Continue addressing the situation head-on,” She advised. “You can patch the wounds of trauma, but they’ll still ache. Continue discussing it with each other.” She fixed Javier with a stern look. “I suggest opening up about your own mother.”
Javier shifted in his seat, “Alright.”
“Have a lovely rest of your month,” Nancy said as you both rose from the sofa to leave.
“That was—“ You cut yourself off, shaking your head slowly. “I shouldn’t have skipped December.”
“Hey,” Javier caught your hand, pulling you towards him. “December was crazy.”
“I don’t actually want to rehash things.” You told him. “Mitch and I had a walk down memory lane and that’s about all I can stomach for right now. Rebecca doesn’t get to live rent free in our relationship.”
He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “If you don’t feel like you need to work on it right now, don’t.”
You sighed heavily, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “I didn’t even get to talk about starting at the university next week.”
“Still a good session?”
You shrugged, “It’s good to talk about everything with a third party. I cried my heart out in November, this month didn’t really have anything left to give.”
Javier interlaced your fingers and guided you out of the office building and down to the car. He was clearly trying to make up for you being disappointed with the session, because he made a point to open the passenger door for you.
You loosely tied your hair back into a knot as you got yourself settled in your seat. “Thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to.”
He squeezed your knee briefly, before starting up the car and backing out of the parking spot. “Baby, I’ll do whatever I have to, to help you.”
You smiled to yourself, looking out the window. “I’m really fine.” You assured him. “I’m not gonna spiral because of any of this. I did that in November and I’m not doing it again.”
He clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving a stiff nod. “What else did you discuss?”
“Uh,” You scrunched up your nose. “The holidays, Mitch, my mother. Rehashed some of the last session briefly.” You shrugged. “I felt like she was hoping I might unload. But I’m so done dwelling on the past, Javier.”
“Me too, baby.”
“You know I worry about becoming her. About curbing those impulses when they strike.”
Javier nodded.
You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek and sighed heavily. “It was only sixteen years of my life.” You reiterated. “I’m pushing forty. I’ve got my only family to worry about.”
“And you’ve done a fucking amazing job, baby.” He assured you.
“It’s just bullshit,” You laughed harshly. “Isn’t it something that I overcame my hang ups when Josie happened? I never could imagine all of this,” You gestured vaguely between. “Because I had no reference of healthy relationships aside from Mitch and Darla. Not to speak ill of the dead, because I know my mother was a monster, but my father still left me with her. You know? And I just assumed it would… repeat.”
“I know.” None of it was new information for Javier.
“I mean, did Nancy want to hear me admit again that I still wake up in the middle of the night terrified that you left me?” You pressed your palms over your eyes and let out a frustrated sound. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rubbed your leg. “How about pizza tonight?” Javier questioned, expertly changing the subject.
You perked up a little, “Extra cheese.” You said, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “And you can order your monstrosity.”
“Blame Monica.”
“Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza, Javier.” You scolded him, but ended up snorting as you started to laugh.
“Did you just snort?” Javier started laughing, slapping his hand against the steering wheel as he stopped at a light. “Baby!”
“Hey, pineapple… and ham pizza is a divorceable offense.” You managed to get out between laughs.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Maybe not, but I can threaten it.” You teased, wiping at the tears that had slid down your cheeks from laughing so hard. “Thank you.”
“I love you,” Javier reminded you and you felt your heart warm at those words. Still, after all this time they made you swoon. What would you do without him?
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April Contest Submission #25: Break Free
Words: ca. 6,600 Setting: canon AU Lemon: no CW: Imprisonment, Torture, Injuries (but no graphic detail), Abuse, Mentioned Kristanna, Mentioned Character Death, actual character death, violence (choking). Mentions of slavery
xXx
“Anna… Anna…”
The redhead’s eyes slowly opened at the sound of a familiar voice, as she was brought out of another horrific nightmare.
“Are you awake?” A voice spoke.
Weakly, Anna nodded. “I take it, that’s you there, Elsa?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
Anna groaned, getting out of bed. For the past year, she had been a prisoner in the Southern Isles, kept as a trophy by King Hans. Everything had been taken from her, her friends, family, even her kingdom.
The cell was dark and filthy, with only one bed. The floor was stone, cold on Anna’s bare feet. The dungeons were on the lowest level of the castle, Anna’s cell having a window overlooking the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing against the rockface often keeping her up at night.
Lamenting her situation, Anna hoped she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life here. She was a Queen and a warrior, she didn’t deserve to die in a dungeon-like this. She should have died defending Arendelle with honour… but Hans had denied her that.
As Anna got up, she sighed, rubbing her eyes. She missed the days when she actually had a good nights sleep. As she climbed off her bed, she saw the door to her cell open, the familiar sight of a blonde-haired woman in uniform walking into the cell. It was indeed Elsa, Hans’s second in command, the woman who had led the attack on Arendelle… and if Anna was honest, her only real friend.
"Nightmare again?” Elsa wondered.
“The same one I’ve had for the last year,” Anna remarked.
Elsa sighed. “I’m so sorry.” Then she cleared her throat. “Prince Hans has requested your presence at breakfast, your majesty,” one of the guards said. “You are to come with me.” “He should give up,” Anna replied. “I’m not going to give in to his demands.” “Even so, you have to eat something,” Elsa insisted. Knowing Elsa was right, Anna got up. She needed to keep her strength up, what little of she still had. “Fine,” Anna agreed reluctantly. Walking out of the cell, she let Elsa lead her down the corridor, her weakened legs barely keeping her standing straight. She looked at the sorceress, confused about how she felt.
Elsa had been responsible for so much pain in her life, and yet, she had also visited her cell pretty much every single day. Anna didn’t know why, but perhaps she was just as lonely as she was. It was clear no one really talked to Elsa, aside from Hans.
But Anna still felt a sense of unease around her. She had watched her kill so many people in her dreams and yet, the real Elsa wasn’t as cold as she imagined.
The real Elsa actually had a kind heart to her, and it was clear that she did care about Anna. But Anna would never forget what Elsa had done, despite the fact they were friends.
She remembered the day Arendelle fell like it was yesterday, reliving the images of the invasion every night, seeing friends and loved ones slaughtered every time she closed her eyes. Every night in her dreams, the images would be warped and distorted, portraying Elsa as some kind of inhuman monster, who had brutally murdered her husband. But Anna had a feeling her dreams were just exaggerations, brought on by her trauma.
For much of her life, Anna hadn’t really been given much of a childhood. When she was a baby, enemy spies had kidnapped her older sister, forcing her parents to keep her locked in the castle for much of her young life.
As Anna grew up, her mother and father put her through all sorts of training to protect herself, to ensure what happened to her older sibling would never repeat itself. By the time Anna was eighteen, she had already served a couple of years in the kingdom’s royal guard. By age twenty-two, she had attained the rank of officer. But that was not the last title that she would be known by.
Her parents tragically died at sea a year later and as such, Anna assumed the throne as Queen. Most assumed it was just a really bad storm. Anna hadn’t taken the news well and it was only afterwards, she knew the truth about her lost sibling.
But even though she deeply mourned her parents, she carried on, later taking a husband. Kristoff was a kind man, he had a large heart and it was his love that made Anna feel so alive and helped her to love life again.
But just as tragically, this bliss was not to last. The Southern Isles, who had been expanding their territories, had wanted to Anna to surrender her kingdom to them. Despite knowing they had a secret weapon that had allegedly wiped out entire kingdoms, she wanted Arendelle to go down fighting.
So much for that, since her forces were completely wiped out, but she’d heard rumours that many of the civilians had managed to survive as refugees elsewhere.
“I take it you didn’t sleep well,” Elsa assumed, bringing Anna out of her thoughts.
“Is that sarcasm?” Anna responded. “I didn’t think you had a sense of humour.”
“I take no amusement from your treatment, Anna,” Elsa stated. “But… you did bring this on yourself. Hans gave you a guest room to stay in when you arrived, a rather luxurious abode I might add.”
“It was still a cell,” Anna replied. “I’m still a prisoner in this castle, regardless of how I’d be treated.”
“But it would have been preferable compared to what you’re going through down here,” Elsa expressed.
Soon, Elsa brought Anna to the royal dining hall, where Anna could see a great banquet of food laid out for her. She felt her stomach growl at the sight of it.
Hans himself was sat at the end of the table facing her, her father’s crown upon his head and a smug look on his face. Glancing at him enraged Anna, the sight of her oppressor reminding her of her suffering.
“Ah, your majesty,” Hans greeted her, as Elsa took a seat on the edge of the table next to him “You must be famished.”
Anna sat down, taking a bite of a slice of beef that had been placed on a plate for her. As much as she hated submitting to Hans this way, she was starving and Hans knew this. But she wasn’t going to let him take advantage of her.
Hans just smirked knowingly, as if he was mocking her. “Tell me, my dear, how have you been doing?”
Anna glared at him, just eating her food.
“I said… how have you been doing, Anna?” Hans asked again.
In response, Anna just muffled something while she was eating.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s rather rude,” Hans snarked
Anna swallowed. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh come now, Anna. You’ve been our guest for a year, I would think you were a tad more sociable by now.” Hans forked a piece of sausage into his mouth. “I hope you’ve once again reconsidered my decision.”
“I am not going to become your wife, Hans,” Anna said defiantly. “I’m not some property for you to own.”
“Come now, if you agree to marry me, you’ll be given riches beyond your wildest dreams and be adored by the people,” Hans offered. “Plus, you won’t need to suffer in those dreadful dungeons any longer.” Anna looked over at Elsa, seeing the blonde staring at her with concern. It was clear at this point that Elsa wanted Anna to fake her own surrender, as Elsa couldn’t bear to see Anna this way. But Anna wouldn’t do that. It would go against everything she stood for.
“I already had people who loved me… your soldiers took care of them,” Anna remarked. “And why would you care? I’m sure Elsa here would make a much better Queen than me.”
Hans chuckled. "I care about Elsa a great deal and I would not want the burden of Queen to be placed on her. Besides, she prefers women and I would not wish to make her… uncomfortable.” Anna noticed how saddened Elsa seemed to be from that subtle insult. Despite the abuse, she still followed Hans loyally without question. In a way… Anna felt sorry for her, that Elsa was as much of a prisoner as she was.
Putting down her cutlery, Anna glared at Hans. "And what about me, Hans? If you care about me so much, why am I whipped, beaten and starved so much?”
“You refuse to behave,” Hans growled. “I’m honestly reconsidering why I even let Elsa take you in alive when I easily could have let you die with the rest of your pathetic kingdom.“
Enraged, Anna snarled, grabbing a knife and lunging at Hans. She knocked him to the ground, trying to jab the knife into his eye. But being starved so much meant that Anna’s strength was nowhere near how it used to be and as such, Hans got the advantage.
Anna tried to stab the knife, but Hans managed to dodge it, the knife merely grazing his cheek. He snarled, punching Anna in the face. Anna stumbled back to her feet, dazed, before Hans got up and slapped her, knocking her to the ground.
Elsa got up, watching as Anna writhed on the floor, groaning in pain.
"Even after all this time, you’re still a disobedient little harlot,” Hans murmured. “Elsa, take her down to the dungeons for punishment.”
"Yes, my lord,” Elsa responded, going to Anna’s side.
As Hans left the room, Anna glared at the man, cursing herself for not being strong enough. She was clearly not the great warrior she once was.
xXx
The punishment was a whipping, as usual. Anna was chained to the wall and whipped by one of Hans’s guards, yet another tactic used by him to try and break her mentally. To be honest, sometimes Anna wondered if Hans had succeeded and she hadn’t realised it, but some part of her would still keep fighting on.
Elsa was there every time, watching the punishment take place, watching Anna as was made to suffer in agony. But eventually, the pain was over, Anna shaking as she ached in chains.
It amazed Anna that she even had enough strength to try and tackle Hans in the dining hall, but she hated herself for not being able to finish the job. Still, she wouldn’t succumb to this agony, no matter how painful it was. Even with her dying breath, she’d deny Hans that satisfaction.
Knowing that Anna had been through enough, Elsa looked at the guard, nodding. “That’s enough, soldier. You can go now.”
The guard left them, Elsa going up to Anna and undoing the chains around her arms and legs. Anna collapsed to the floor, quivering as Elsa walked over to her.
“It’s over now,” Elsa spoke, handing Anna a waterskin.
Shivering, Anna gently held the pouch in her hand, gulping the water down. She gulped down the water as fast as she could, before panting, as sweat beaded down her body.
“You… You’re gonna get in trouble for helping me like this,” Anna said shakily, her throat dry.
Elsa looked away. “What Hans doesn’t know won’t hurt him. To be honest, I’ve been wondering why you’re even still here. It’s clear that no matter what, you’re not going to break.”
“I won’t break,” Anna insisted.
“That’s a rather arrogant way to look at things,” Elsa noted. “You’ve been pushed beyond your limits. I’m surprised you haven’t died yet.” She then bent down and helped the struggling Anna to her feet. “Let me help you. I’ll take you back to your cell.”
Anna merely nodded as Elsa helped her. She was surprised the sorceress was so kind to her at times, as if the person who had helped destroy Arendelle and the person helping her now were two completely different people.
“I admire your strength,” Elsa spoke. “Most people would have either gone mad or died from the torment you’ve been put through.”
“My parents raised a strong daughter,” Anna replied.
Eventually, the two of them arrived at Anna’s cell, Elsa unlocking the door.
“We’re here,” she said. “You should rest.”
Anna hobbled inside, eventually making it to the bed and collapsing upon it. Much of her body now was covered in scars from the torture Hans put her through constantly. As she laid on the bed, she saw that Elsa was still standing there.
“What are you doing?”
“I… I don’t know,” Elsa expressed. “I wish I could do more to help you.”
“You could have told Hans not to whip the piss out of me,” Anna remarked, trying to use humour to disguise her pain.
Elsa shook her head. “No, I can’t disobey Hans. If it wasn’t for him I…” The blonde stopped herself. “But maybe there is something I might be able to now to help you relieve that pain.”
Anna sat up, looking away. “Why do you care about me so much? I’m just a prisoner to you.”
“Perhaps… perhaps you’ve helped me to discover my humanity,” Elsa admitted. “You’re a rather… fascinating woman, Anna of Arendelle.”
“I’m surprised you have some,” Anna argued. “I still see you killing Kristoff in my dreams every night, leading the assault on Arendelle. In my dreams, you’re a cold, unfeeling monster.”
“And is that what I really am?”
“I… I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “You give me mixed messages. Some days I think you’re a friend and others, I’m reminded you’re a monster.”
Elsa walked into the room, sitting down on the bunk opposite Anna. “He attacked me from behind. I… I actually tried not to kill everyone. But Kristoff, he came at me with that spear and… ” She looked away. “I regret that.”
“What?” Anna wondered. “What are you talking about?”
“I wanted to win that battle with minimal casualties,” Elsa stated. “But everything went wrong. I regret what I did to you, and to your kingdom.” She looked into Anna’s eyes. “I even let most of the civilians go when I found them in the forests outside your kingdom. They didn’t deserve to die… no one did.”
"Is that… true?” Anna asked. “You’re not lying?”
“No, I haven’t lied to you,” Elsa expressed. “I’ve been good to you this past year to try and make up for the fact I destroyed your kingdom. I hoped… I hoped that perhaps if I befriended you, that life here would be better for you. It was obvious you and Hans wouldn’t get along but perhaps if you had me…”
Anna thought for a moment. She had a gut feeling that Elsa was indeed telling the truth. Anna had misjudged Elsa slightly. Hans was clearly using her as merely a weapon, not truly caring about her as a person. After all, in war, soldiers often were forced to fight, not given a choice to leave.
And in Anna’s eyes… Elsa had shown she was a kind person. A complicated one, but her actions of mercy and care for her had shown her humanity. And yet, her visage still haunted her dreams.
“I… I think I can forgive you,” Anna accepted. “But… part of me will always be angry towards you for what you’ve done. But it’s clear that perhaps you’re on the path of change.”
“That means a lot to me,” Elsa admitted. “ I don’t blame you for still partly being angry over what I did to your husband. You don’t have to completely absolve me of this.”
“I am not,” Anna said honestly. “But perhaps I can move on. Even if the image of you slaughtering so many with your magic is etched into my mind… it’s clear that’s not you anymore.”
“Then… allow me to assure you that I have changed,” Elsa spoke after a moment, slowly taking off her gloves. “If you’ll let me?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just lay on your stomach and I’ll do the rest,” Elsa said softly. “Do you trust me?”
For a moment, Anna almost said no, but Elsa had clearly opened her heart to her and been honest to her. She was genuine and wanted to help Anna and if Anna was to try and move on with all of this, trust between her and Elsa was important. She nodded, laying down on her back.
Elsa then reached over to Anna, pressing her hands on Anna’s back, her cold icy magic soothing Anna’s skin.
“Uhhh…. what are you…”
“Using a bit of my magic to relieve your pain,” Elsa said. “It’ll allow you to rest better.”
Sighing in content, Anna felt relaxed as Elsa applied pressure to her aching back and legs. It was almost enough to make her forget where she was, but no matter how much Anna wanted it, she was still a prisoner in this dungeon.
After massaging Anna for a while, Elsa looked over at her. “You okay now?”
“Mm, much better,” Anna purred. “Have I ever told you that you have hands like a surgeon?”
Elsa chuckled, to Anna’s surprise.
“You… you laughed!” she exclaimed.
Her friend stopped, a little embarrassed. “Sorry… I can’t remember the last time I found anything funny.”
Anna sat up and looked into Elsa’s eyes. The two of them were but inches apart and at that moment, as Anna was relaxed, she gazed at Elsa. Her gorgeous blue eyes almost glowed in the sunlight, and her platinum blonde, nearly white hair looked as soft as silk.
In all this time, had Anna really not considered how beautiful Elsa was? At that moment, a strange new sensation started to form inside Anna’s chest. Not anger, not a desire to never give up, but… something else, some sensation of her wanting Elsa, wanting the two of them to try and make something of all this.
And then… Anna leaned in and kissed Elsa. It was a brief moment, Anna succumbing to whatever this sensation was inside of her, before quickly pulling away. “I’m sorry!”
Elsa stroked her lips. “I… It’s okay.”
“No… I didn’t mean to do that,” Anna argued.
Nodding, Elsa stood up. “I… I should go,” she said to break the tension. “You should rest, conserve your strength and whatnot.” She smiled at Anna. “I… I wouldn’t mind taking you out of this cell tomorrow. You need some exercise.”
“Would… would you be allowed to do that?”
“As I said before, what Hans doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Elsa said reassuringly.
Anna nodded. “I’d like that… getting out and all.” She laid down and sighed. “And Elsa?”
“Yes?” Elsa wondered.
“Thank you,” Anna said genuinely.
Elsa smiled, closing the cell door. “Rest well, Anna.”
xXx
Fresh air, sunlight. It had felt like an eternity since Anna had been outside, in the presence of nature. Elsa had brought to a clearing just outside of the Southern Isles capital, where they wouldn’t be disturbed. The clearing was surrounded by beautiful trees full of lush green leaves, while in front of Anna, she could see a small lake with clear water reflecting the morning sun. It reminded Anna of where Kristoff had proposed to her.
Anna almost turned, instantly expecting to see the man of her dreams next to her…. only to be met with the sight of Elsa, having just dismounted the ice horse she’d created to take Anna to this place. She felt… unsure. It was confusing to Anna, who now realised she’d been attracted to Elsa for quite some time. Part of her hated Elsa and Part of her loved her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it all.
The sorceress walked up to her and smiled at her. “Enjoying the view?”
“I guess,” Anna answered as best as she could. “Why did you bring me here exactly?”
“This is where I go to practice my magic,” Elsa replied. “No one else knows about this place other than you and me. It’s the perfect little spot where no one will ever find you.”
“Huh,” Anna remarked. “You know, I’d have figured for an ice witch, you’d be hiding out in some giant frozen castle on the side of a mountain.”
“You really think that?”
“It was in a bedtime story my mother read to me as a kid,” Anna explained, before sitting down by the lakeside. “Thank you for bringing me here. I remember I had a place like this in Arendelle. It was in the gardens and Kristoff and I used to spend so many afternoons here.” “You miss him terribly,” Elsa said. “And It’s all because of me.” “You explained that last night,” Anna replied. “I do blame you still partly for what happened to him… And I doubt he’d have approved of me being like this with you. But then again… he’s gone and I should let go of the pain and move on.” “And what do you think?” “i… I think you know how I think,” Anna replied.
“If… If this is about that kiss, you don’t have to apologise,” Elsa expressed. “I’ve heard of the concept where one falls in love with their captor out of desperation.”
“No, if that were the case, I’d have fallen in love with Hans,” Anna corrected her. “But you aren’t my captor. You’re just as much of a prisoner as I am. Just I’m in a cell and you… you aren’t.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “And I think… I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“I… I think I feel the same way,” Elsa admitted. “But it can’t work. I can’t go against Hans, as much as I’d like to. I can’t give you freedom or your kingdom back.”
“Why can’t you?!” Anna demanded. “Elsa, if this is how you really feel, why the flying fuck have you allowed yourself to be Hans’s lapdog all these years?!"
"Because I’d have nothing else!” Elsa shouted back.
“I saw how Hans treated you at breakfast yesterday, with that bigoted remark,” Anna reminded her. “And you’re supposed to be his equal for crying out loud? Doesn’t sound very equal to me.”
“You don’t understand!”
“You could have broken away from Hans anytime you wanted,” Anna argued. “You could have stopped yourself from becoming what you are, you could have prevented so much death and destruction!… and yet you didn’t. Why?”
A few more tears of regret shed from Elsa. “Because I was a fool. Hans was the first person who ever showed me kindness, who saw some use for me.” She looked away at the water, looking at her reflection. “I was taken from my parents when I was three years old by Hans’s father. My powers hadn’t developed by then and I was just meant to be some political hostage, meant to weaken one of the Southern Isle’s enemies. Hans took pity on me as I got older… I helped him kill his father. He gave me a life, a purpose. His enemies were my enemies and I gladly cut them down for him. But… after that, he was colder to me, especially after he found out I preferred women.”
“So… he made a pass at you,” Anna realised. “That explains it, and part of your mistreatment is because Hans couldn’t have you fully. And yet, he still needed you.”
“It’s kinda stupid isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. “And I’ve been too damned insecure to do anything about it. If I kill Hans, I’d have nowhere to go. I’m fairly sure my birth family is dead. . I’m most likely wanted in the surviving kingdoms that I didn’t destroy… I have nothing. Even if I did spare many of the civilians, my reputation among the other kingdoms is tainted.”
“That’s not true,” Anna argued. “I… I’d welcome you to stay in Arendelle if I could.”
“Would you really do that?” Elsa wondered. “In spite of all of my crimes.”
“At least you’ve tried to atone for yours by being my friend and taking care of me,” Anna replied. “That’s more than his royal douchebag ever did for me.” She took Elsa’s hands. “So yes, if Arendelle were still standing… I’d gladly invite you to stay and… I love you.”
Elsa was stunned, as Anna then kissed her again, but then, she gave in, wrapping her arms around Anna as she kissed her, caressing the other woman gently. Anna gave in to the moment, relishing the kiss, letting go of all that pain and anger. Would Kristoff have approved? Well, he’d have been glad that she’d found love again, but with the woman who had killed him? Well, that was certainly complicated, but love wasn’t a matter that was easy. At the end of the day, he’d have been happy if she was happy.
But as Anna held Elsa in the kiss, something clicked in her brain, something about Elsa’s story that seemed… familiar. A young princess kidnapped at three years old, stolen away and never to be seen again. Could Elsa be… no, it was impossible. Anna panicked, pulling away from the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” Elsa asked, concerned. “Anna, are you okay?”
Anna looked in the water at hers and Elsa’s faces, she could see that there was indeed a resemblance between them. A similar face shape, their eyes being a similar shade of blue, Anna’s teal and Elsa’s ice.
She didn’t want to believe it… but couldn’t deny the facts before her.
“You… you don’t have nothing, Elsa,” Anna spoke.
“What?” Elsa wondered. “What are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t my family’s firstborn,” Anna explained. “I had an older sister who was abducted when I was just a baby. My parents never told me about her and I never even knew she had existed until they died at sea a few years back. But, if she was still alive….”
Elsa’s eyes widened. "You… You don’t mean.”
“I mean look at us!” Anna shouted. “Our faces, don’t they look kinda similar!”
“But… That’s impossible!” Elsa shouted. “I would have known I’d have had a sibling! Oh god… I kissed my sister!” “Oh god, I fell in love with my sister!” Anna reacted. “No… it can’t be right,” Elsa argued. “Hans would have told me that I had a sibling.”
"Would he?” Anna wondered. “Did Hans even tell you what Kingdom you were taken from?”
“No..” Elsa realised. “He did not… and if your story is true and then…” She shook her head. “But why wouldn’t he have told me… unless he wanted to further…” After passing through disbelief and confusion, Elsa finally ended up in anger.
At that moment, Elsa’s hands curled into fists and an angry scowl formed on her face. To Anna’s shock, a whirlwind of ice and snow surrounded Elsa as she let out a massive scream of rage, firing ice blasts left and right. One of the blasts was powerful enough to freeze the whole lake.
“Elsa! Calm down!”
“No!!!” Elsa shouted. “I’ve had enough! I’ve been lied to my whole life and I’m tired of it! Hans forced me to destroy my own home, and I didn’t even realise it! He deserves to pay for what he’s done!”
Anna walked over to Elsa, feeling a little nervous. Seeing Elsa this way reminded her of the visions of the sorceress that she saw in her dreams.
“I’m… I’m okay,” Elsa panted.
“You sure?”
Elsa nodded. “Yes… Damn it all to hell. How could I have been so blind all these years? I knew Hans was a piece of work, but if this is true… then he and his whole retched family deserve to rot in hell.” She started to sob, Anna going to her side and holding her.
“I’m here,” Anna whispered. “I’ve got you, Elsa.”
Accepting it all, Elsa looked at Anna, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
“And I’m sorry too,” Anna apologised as well. “I should have realised this sooner… I’ll just forget those kisses happened. I can’t believe you’re my sister… and I’m in love with you.”
“No Anna, don’t say that,” Elsa urged. “For all you know we might not be related after all… and even if we were, does it really matter? No one would know but us.”
“I… I don’t know,” Anna responded, unsure. “What… what are you going to do now?”
"I’m going to look through the journals of Hans’s father. It likely confirms what you’ve been telling me. Then… I’m going to confront Hans about this myself.“
"Alone?”
“I won’t put you in danger,” Elsa insisted. “Sister or not, you’ve been through too much and I care about you.”
“But I was also raised as a warrior,” Anna replied. “If we’re going to do this… and we’re going to finally do what I think we’re going to do, I want to be there.”
Elsa nodded. “Okay… but I’ll take you back to your cell while I look through the journals.”
“Sounds good to me,” Anna replied.
xXx
It hadn’t taken Elsa long to find King Johann’s journal. Hans hadn’t exactly left his father’s old belongings hard to find in the castle attic. But actually reading the words to herself made Elsa sick to the stomach.
The entries in the journal confirmed what Anna had suspected, that Elsa was indeed the other Arendellian princess, abducted as a child. It had made Elsa angry that she had been denied such a life, a sister, two loving parents, the chance to be Queen herself…
But now, Elsa knew she had a chance to start over with Anna. She could bring Arendelle or the other kingdoms she destroyed back and try and do her damndest to make amends for all of her many many sins. And how was she going to do that? By finally killing the monster who had used her for all these years.
Storming through the halls of the castle to Anna’s cell, Elsa pondered what she was about to do. For one small moment, she was scared, scared that killing Hans would only make things worse for the Southern isles. But then she thought about the power she herself had, a power that if used right could do much more good than harm.
Eventually, Elsa made her way to Anna’s cell, opening the door and looking at Anna, who was lying on her bunk.
“Elsa?” Anna asked.
The sorceress walked over to Anna, reaching her hand out to her. “It’s time to get you out of here… my sister.”
“Wait, are we really?”
The blonde nodded. “Yes, you’re my sister, Anna.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” Anna expressed. She then jumped up and hugged Elsa tightly. Her long lost sister… finally they were reunited. For a moment, she thought about kissing her again, but knew it was best to push those thoughts to one side.
“So… are we going to do this?” Anna asked.
Elsa nodded. “Yes…. this is something I should have done the moment I let Hans get into my head.”
And so, the two sisters eventually made their way to the war room, where Hans and his generals were planning their next campaign of conquest. Elsa told Anna to wait outside, Anna hiding behind a nearby statue, while Elsa walked inside, firmly prepared for what she was about to do.
Hans and his generals were gathered around a table plotting their next conquest, Elsa seeing the usual smug look on Hans’s face. It enraged her now, more than it ever did, especially now that she knew the truth. But finally, this nightmare would be over, for both her and Anna.
“Hans?” Elsa asked.
“Elsa! Just the woman I wanted to see,” Hans responded. “My generals and I were going over the plans for our next campaign. I trust you will be of course leading the charge?”
Elsa then bowed in respect. “Of course. I live to serve you, my lord.” She knew she had to get Hans alone in order to do this. The fewer people around, the better. “I… I had something I wanted to speak to you about,” Elsa said.“Can we speak in private?”
“Of course!” Hans replied. “I was hoping to talk to you about some personal matters as well.” Hans looked at the generals. “Leave us, please. This hopefully won’t take long.”
As the generals and the guards that had been in the room left, Elsa stared at Hans, as the former went to pour himself a drink of whiskey from a nearby bottle. After taking a swig, he smirked at Elsa.
“I know you don’t hold your ale well, but would you care for a drink, Elsa?” Hans offered. “This is a rather good vintage.”
"No thank you,” Elsa responded.
“Hmmm pity,” Hans remarked. “I was having a drink in celebration.”
"Of what?” Elsa wondered. “Your next campaign?”
"Oh no, something a little closer to home,” Hans explained. “I’ve just arranged for the execution of your friend Queen Anna.”
Elsa’s eyes widened. "What?! Why?”
Hans shrugged. “I just wanted to clear up loose ends. After yesterday’s little incident, I realised she’s too much of a liability. It’s best to let the last remnant of Arendelle be finally snuffed out. Plus… She’s a rather bad influence on you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not stupid, Elsa!” Hans shouted. “I know you have feelings for her and how you feel pity for her. She’s made you soft.”
Her heart beating in her chest, Elsa flared with anger. She had to act now, Hans was going to kill Anna, the only family she truly had left and she wouldn’t allow him to take her away from her.
"No.”
Hans put his glass down. “No what?”
“No, I can’t allow you to do that, Hans,” Elsa argued. “I’ve been your slave for too long. I know everything now. I know I was stolen from Arendelle as a child and that Anna is my sibling.” She strode towards Hans. “Why did you lie to me, Hans?! Why use me?!”
Hans sighed. “Oh well… I suppose you were going to find out eventually.” Hans walked over to a nearby window, looking out on his kingdom. “You were too useful to me, and I couldn’t resist losing you or the power you would gain me. And I had to teach your birth kingdom a lesson. They were trying to take you from me.”
“What… What are you talking about?”
"A few years ago, not long after you helped me stage my coup, do you remember when I had you sink that enemy ship?”
"What does that have to do with this?” Elsa wondered. Then she stopped and thought. She remembered how the king and Queen of Arendelle had apparently died at sea. Her parents. “Oh…”
Hans laughed. “That was your own parents, Elsa, rushing to your rescue and you never even realised it. I bet Anna would just love to know that little factoid. She’ll never consider you a sister once she knows that.”
“What?!” A voice exclaimed.
Elsa turned around, seeing Anna walk into the room, her mouth wide in shock. Sweat beaded from her brow, knowing that Hans had deliberately withheld that information from her, for just such a moment like this. “Anna… I didn’t know, I swear!”
“You… you killed them….”
“It was Hans!” Elsa argued. “He forced me to sink that ship. I didn’t know our parents were onboard it! And it doesn’t matter, this is him trying to mess with our heads!”
Anna sighed. “You’re right… I can be angry about that another time.” She glared at Hans. “You’re an insane bastard, Hans!”
“Oh shut up, the pair of you,” Hans argued. “There’s nowhere for either of you to go now. So just run along back to your cell, Anna.”
“No, she’s staying with me,” Elsa said defiantly.
“And you’re going to stay with me!” Hans insisted. “And you would have been nothing if I hadn’t taken pity on you.f I hadn’t, you’d still be locked in a cell as one of my father’s little trophies. I made you what you are Elsa.”
“You’re wrong!” Elsa shouted. “You can’t control me anymore!”
“And what are you going to do about it?” Hans asked. “If you kill me, you’ll have nowhere to-”
And right there and then, Anna punched Hans square in the face with all her strength. The king was started for a moment, giving Elsa the chance to grab her hands around Hans’s neck.
Hans choked and grunted. “Elsa… What…” But Elsa’s hand squeezed tighter and tighter, Hans’s face turning redder as he tried to breathe. However, he felt a sudden chill as ice spread from Elsa’s hand to all over his body. Elsa quickly let go, but Hans struggled as the rest of his body started to turn to ice.
“It’s the end for you, Hans,” Anna said coldly.
“And you were so wrong about me,” added Elsa in an equally icy tone. “I have a sister, someone I love. That’s more precious than something you’ll ever have. And as for you… you’re about to lose everything.”
Hans gurgled audibly, trying to form words to spit out, but he couldn’t. His throat had been the first thing frozen solid by Elsa. He settled for glaring venomously at Elsa, full of fury.
With a powerful kick, Anna knocked Hans towards the window, smashing him through it. As she watched, she saw Hans fully become an ice statue before he finally hit the courtyard below, nothing left of him but bloody particles. Finally, it was over. Hans was no more.
Just then, Elsa and Anna heard the sound of the guards enter the room, having heard the window break. They drew their sabres at them, but Elsa just gave them a freezing glare. The soldiers surrendered in moments, bowing in respect for Elsa, completely at her mercy.
“What is your command, Elsa?” one of them asked.
“Leave us for a moment,” Elsa answered. “I’ll address you when I’m ready.”
As the guards left the room, Elsa looked over at Anna, who was looking at the window.
“I can’t believe it… it’s finally over,” Anna admitted. “I’m free.”
“Are you still angry?” Elsa asked her.
“No… No, you didn’t know about our parents,” Anna replied. “And to be honest… I bet they’d have been happy that we took out Hans together.” She turned around. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’ll assume the throne of the southern isles,” Elsa stated. “Put the kingdom’s resources towards repairing the damage I’ve done. I’ll make sure Arendelle is restored to its former glory… hopefully some of the people I let go are still out there.” She held Anna close. “Finally… it’s over.”
“Good riddance to Hans,” Anna admitted.
“Did you have to kick him through the window?” Elsa asked. “I mean, I was gonna shatter him to pieces anyway.”
“A warrior has a flair for the dramatic,” Anna replied.
Elsa knew this probably wasn’t the best time to ask about this, but she and Anna both knew that despite the revelation of them being sisters, they couldn’t simply ignore their romantic feelings. “Anna… about us being sisters…
"I made my decision already,” Anna interrupted her. “I want to be with you, Elsa. This whole sisters thing… as long as we keep it our little secret things will be fine.”
“You’re sure about this?” Elsa wondered.
“Well, how else am I going to make you my queen and not raise eyebrows?” Anna remarked.
“Wait… what?”
But Anna had then grabbed Elsa, dipping her down for a passionate kiss, celebrating the fact that freedom was theirs at last.
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nobody asked but here are my personal top five pat gill videos | a 2.1k word long post where i rank and review pat gill’s videos for just way too long.
Right around the tail end of April, 2020, I fell into the rabbit hole of my current obsession; Polygon Dot Com Video Content. As a consequence of this was being introduced to the phenomenon of Pat Gill. A dire consequence of that consequence was me slowly, deeply, irrevocably, finding myself attracted to this marionette of a man. So, I enjoy his content and I think he’s hot and that combined with the fact that some of my friends bully me over that latter fact has inspired me to do this: rank my personal favorite Pat Gill videos in a post that’s entirely too long.
Before I get straight into the rankings, I need to explain my process.
First, I needed to narrow my scope. Polygon has a lot of videos. Polygon has a lot of videos with Pat Gill in them. If I didn’t narrow my scope, I would either go bonkers yonkers or have a list that would be kilometric in length and thus miss the entire point of ranking altogether. So, for my sanity, I am excluding any videos that are a part of a Polygon video series. This means no Overboard, no Gill and Gilbert, no Video Game Theatre, etc. If I included these, I would cry. I do not want to cry over Polygon Dot Com Video Producer Pat Gill.
Second, I need a criteria. If I just ranked videos with no system, I would find myself endlessly rearranging my list based on whatever thought comes out on top in my mind at the given moment. I am a disorganized person, so I need rules. I have decided that I will rank Pat Gill videos using the EEEH criteria.
Entertainment. Do I smile, watching the video? Do I chortle? Am I filled with the embarrassing urge to show this video to my sister and derive glee from her laughing at the exact same moment I laughed? Entertainment is key.
Education. Did I come out of this video knowing something I originally did not know? More importantly, was I engaged in the learning process? I come from a family of teachers, so I have high standards when it comes to education. If I am to learn, I must learn well.
Exaltation. This is a bit of an oddball criteria, but it is important to me. The word “exalted” is defined as “elevated in rank, character, or status.” This criteria refers to how good it is at exalting, elevating, pulling me out of a depressive episode. That is to say I’ve been in a depressive episode for the past month and whether or not the video made me stop crying and brush my teeth is essential. Polygon video content has been integral to my serotonin production lately, and thus the video’s ability of acting as an audiovisual antidepressant for me factors into the rankings.
[BONUS POINTS] Hotness. How Hot Is Pat Gill In It? I felt bad, morally, ranking videos based on how good looking I thought Pat Gill was in it---because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and all that, and people don’t exist to be beautiful, they just are, and I agree---so I’m relegating this criteria as a bonus point. Standard is 0, because he’s always hot in my mind, but he gets plus points if he is exemplary in the hotness department.
The maximum score for each of these criteria is 5 points, making the perfect score a 15, but because of the bonus points, a 20 is, hypothetically, possible.
With that out of the way, let me dive right into it.
5. The fastest interview ever with Ben Schwartz from Sonic the Hedgehog
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Entertainment: 5 Education: 2 Exaltation: 2 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 11
Pat Gill is a good interviewer, he’s engaging and fun and keeps the interview interesting, but this interview is particularly special because it seems that, and let me quote Youtube user AudreyN who left a comment on this video stating “ben schwartz consumed all seven chaos emeralds prior to this interview.” Pat Gill and Ben Schwartz’s dynamic is amazing, and by “dynamic” I do mean “Ben Schwartz absolutely just fucking dunking on Pat Gill for 14 entire minutes.” and it is glorious.
For Entertainment this scores a solid 5. Quite honestly the funniest interview I’ve ever watched in my entire life. Just the sheer beauty in the exchange [Pat] “You would use Sonic’s power to gaslight me?” [Ben] “Just you.” In terms of Education, I guess I did learn a bunch of things about the Sonic movie that I didn’t know before, but the avenue by which it was portrayed in was not exactly the most engaging, more like I was absorbing it via watching two experts discuss on a webinar. I would have given just 1 point to Education but I made it 2 because of the wonderful knowledge that Pat Gill can draw a pretty good Sonic in a few seconds. When it comes to Exaltation, I must admit that while this video got quite a few laughs out of me, it didn’t make me want to get out of bed and take a shower.
BONUS: Pat is +2 hot in it. His short hair makes him look very handsome. He’s a spiffy boy, in this video. Very, very good.
4. Pat Will Not Tweet at Nintendo This Week Because He is Resting at Home — PLEASE RETWEET, Episode 12
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Entertainment: 5 Education: 0 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +1 Total Score: 11
I know I’m breaking a rule I set for myself a few paragraphs earlier by including an episode of Please Retweet, which counts as a video series, but this is my post and I can do whatever I want. More importantly, this video is so fucking funny to me, it feels like it would be a crime not to put it in this list.
Solid 5 out of 5 for entertainment. Pat Gill, alone in his apartment, drinking six cans of what I think is beer silently while the intro music plays. That scene in itself should win an Oscar. Sadly, a solid 0 for Education, because I learn nothing in this video except for the fact that Pat Gill is the type of person to put out a coaster and then just completely not use it. I quantify things as educational if I can maybe answer a trivia question with them, and unfortunately, this fact does not pass that test. In terms of Exaltation, seeing Pat Gill lie down on the floor next to his cat made me get out of bed to do the same with my dog, and with myself thusly out of my bed cocoon of sadness, I was able to actually complete tasks on the day I watched this video. Perfect 5.
BONUS: Pat is +1 hot in this because there’s something very beautiful about him being a little bit miserable. However, I do miss his beard when I watch this video. It is one of my favorite things about him, and it is not present here.
3. Pat and Simone Play Human: Fall Flat
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Entertainment: 5 Education: 1 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: 0 Total Score: 11
I very much enjoy Polygon’s gameplay streams. I often play them in the background while I’m doing other stuff like doodling or origami, but this stream is special. It is special because of the moment at 24:00 when Pat Gill, in game, swings a stereo into a glass window, shattering it, while saying, “Actually, y’know what? Let’s talk about trauma.” and then proceeds to tell a horrible and embarrassing story from his childhood where he had to do a rap about Ancient Egypt.
5 points for Entertainment. This is partly because of Pat’s tragic childhood story about the Egypt Rap (and, segue just to point out 33:22 the incredible moment where you can hear Pat’s feral panic when Simone finds the lyrics to the Egypt Rap) but also because Pat and Simone just talking to each other is so deeply entertaining to me in a very comfy way. I’m starved for human interaction, in this quarantime, okay. Let me enjoy listening to other people have conversations while playing video games. Education scores a 1 because, again, nothing in this video will let me answer a trivia question, however it does get 1 point and not a 0 because the Egypt Rap’s lyrics are in the comments and I did end up learning stuff about Ancient Egypt that I didn’t know. A perfect 5 for Exaltation because this video showed me that talking about trauma can actually be cathartic, given that you’re trashing a video game living room at the same time, and I think that message of not bottling up your experiences really helped me, in these trying times.
BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for the entirety of this episode, so he scores the standard 0. I’m sure he was hot. We just couldn’t see him.
2. Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the same thing
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Entertainment: 4 Education: 4 Exaltation: 3 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 12
Ah yes, one of Pat’s “x is y because of z” videos. He’s made a number of these and they’re all very good but this one is my favorite among them and earns a spot on this list because 1) I think puppets are cool and 2) I fucking love monsters.
This video scores a 4 on Entertainment, just shy of perfect, because as funny as it is, it also gives me the vibe like I am being lectured by a professor who’s just a little bit off the shits. And we all know that lectures are supposed to be taken seriously. Which brings us to Education, which also scores a 4. I learned a lot in this video! Watching Pat Gill explain to me that children’s puppets and these horrifying viddy game monsters use the same character principles in different ways is not only very educational but is also explained in a streamline and easy to understand manner that I WISH some of the shitty professors at my old university could emulate. As for Exaltation, while this video did give me enough energy to have a meal, I did eventually end up back in bed for the night at 8pm crying myself to sleep, thinking “I’m like the slime scholar. Used to be a scholar. Now they’re slime.”
BONUS: Pat Gill is +2 hot here. He’s rockin that basic ass monochromatic aesthetic and I love his look dearly.
1. Preparing for Big Boy Season in Red Dead Redemption 2
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Entertainment: 5 Education: 3 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +3 Total Score: 16
Here we are. My favorite non video series Pat Gill video. The video where Pat Gill tries to make Red Dead Redemption 2 protagonist, Arthur Morgan, large.
Perfect fucking 5 for Entertainment, which I’m sure many may find odd. Afterall, this video is told in a serious investigative tone reminiscent of Vox’s videos on current issues. But that’s the glory of it. The complete and utter ‘playing it straight and serious’ for a ridiculous issue in a video game. It is high tier comedy in a subtle, understated way that sings to my comedy loving heart in a melody so lovely, so wonderful, that it urged me to give this video 5 points for Entertainment. It scores 3 on Education, because I have never played Red Dead Redemption 2, nor will I ever, but now I know things about it. The information was also relayed to me in a very interesting style, via something like a crime procedural, and thus it was engaging for me to absorb all this new knowledge. Exaltation scores a perfect 5 because of this video’s beautiful end about existential smallness. No joke, but hearing Pat Gill say “Our bigness isn’t measured in pounds, but in the impact we have on the people with whom we shared the world.” deadass made me want to talk to my friends again after conversationally isolating myself for 3 days. Preparing for Big Boy Season has a special place in my heart. And there it will stay.
BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for most of the video but he does appear for like 15 seconds in the middle of it, and guess what. He’s hot. +3 hotness. Good beardage, good hair, all in all, good Pat Gill.
So there you have it. My five favorite Pat Gill videos. If you read this whole thing, holy shit. You’re welcome, I guess.
#this is what im using my degree in creative writing for i guess#polygon#pat gill#pat gill thirst jail#patrick gill#nobody asked but
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Late night visit
After being home for a few days and getting settled in you finally got friends and family over. The twins have been home for a week now and are starting to show a bit of their personalities. After being exhausted from visiting family and friends for a week on top of taking care of not one but two babies. You are so ready to just get some sleep. But something tells you otherwise that isn't happening tonight.
"Keigo, I'm worried what if something happens?"
"Lovebird I am one of the top heros, we have the highest security, and we are at the top of the building."
"I know but-"
"You need to sleep! It has been a good few weeks since you got your last through the night sleep. You need this… We need this."
"Okay" but there was still an uncertain feeling in your stomach.
The first night all of you get a good night's sleep something unexpected happens.
You hear crying and sit up to see your worst nightmare you see he's holding your son.
"So Keigo it's been a while? You had a kid and I wasn't even invited to the baby shower or anything? You actually had two and said nothing? Huh what a shame I thought we were closer than this."
"Put my son down Dabi. NOW."
"Oh we must not wake them now. You know it is important for babies to sleep. And how frail and fragile they are." He tightens his grip on Soarin. And he continues to cry. Hawks flies across the room in a flash. He's a foot away from Dabi. His wings puffed out and the shadow looming over them both making him appear larger.
"Hm your funny Keigo you think this scares me? I know all your little secrets, your weakness, your strengths. All of it." He smirks
Hawks lowers his wings and takes a step forward looking straight into dabis ice cold blue eyes.
"Why are you here and what do you want with my children?"
"Well I would be a bad uncle if I were to not visit my newest niece and nephew."
"What do you really want with them?"
"It looks like only one of your kids has wings? Do you prefer one child over the other? I know you've always wanted to have kids that have wings. So is this one insignificant to you seeing the one thing you wanted he doesn't have?" Dabi responded ignoring hawks question
"DABI WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY CHILDREN!?"
"You know how much kids sell for? Let alone a hero's kid. He might even develop a quirk later on and make him worth more. And you are one of the top ten heros. Man the more I talk about it the more dollar signs I'm seeing. But that little munchkin over there is worth almost double seeing that she was born with her quirk. And selling her feathers could stack up fast. But I figured you wanted to keep that one cause she has your wings." He shrugged
"You are a disgusting piece of-"
"Ah I heard somewhere that talking negatively to someone with another person in-between. That person actually feels your emotions and thinks it's directed at them. So watch your mouth while I'm holding your baby." Dabi cocks an eyebrow.
Tears begin forming prickling hawks eyes blurring his vision. His chest rising and falling rapidly with his hitched breath.
"I don't know why the fuck your here now. Or Why you want to hurt my children. But I never had a family. I never thought I would. And I've told you this Dabi... When we were kids. I looked up to your dad as a figure."
"Don't bring my old man into this Keigo. This about you, me, and your kids. "
"Dabi please, why are you doing this. Why now? Why my children of all things." He says crying
"You know why Keigo. It's not just them. You left me to train intensively all alone. With that piece of shit father of mine. You promised me that you wouldn't leave... And you did anyway. I waited for you to come home. To see me, visit,call me, anything. I missed you and you never reached out.
"Dabs I-"
"Keigo no it's too late for that it's not just one thing. Not just you didn't tell me you were a top hero. Not just that you were working for my dad. Not just that you got married. Had kids, bought a house... Keigo our dream house that we built as kids."
"Excuse me is there something that I missed? Why a villain is in my house holding my baby and talking to you like he knows you?"you ask
Keigo turns to look at you.
"So me and Dabi grew up together. My parents sold me to the hero commission and his dad is a hero training him to be the best. We lived in a room together, trained, played, grew up together..."
"Ok so your childhood best friend is a villain?"
"The training we endured at such young developmental stages was horrific. So we grew and talked through our trauma together."
"That doesn't explain why he is as batshit crazy as an ex girlfriend"
"The hero commission decided we spent too much time together and spit us up but continued training. We would sneak out to talk to each other. By the time we were 16 and had our provisional license they let us go. So the first thing we did was go live in this cheap little beat down apartment together. Sharing such a small space.meant we had to share a bed. Which wasn't unusual to us because when one person had a bad dream as kids the other would get into bed with the other. We kept having nightmares after nightmares and reliving the trauma. One night we both woke up and talked about what happened and how we feel and something just clicked and it lead to both of our first kiss. After that things felt weird. So Dabs decided to move out with some of his friends from work. We started hanging out less and less and one time we were getting coffee he brings up this girl(toga) he was introduced to by a roommate and she was super weird into dead things and stuff like that she invited him hang with this group she's with all the time(lov) so dabi hung out with them. I got jealous and left the coffee shop. Once I got over it I texted dabs I want to meet these new people he's hanging out with. And he said why not hang out and meet them at my new place. I'm staying with them now. So I go over and see these super weird people. I meet them and hang out a bit and me and dabi go to his room and pits on some of our favorite songs. We kissed again that night and I left him immediately after. Once again I get over myself and we start talking again like old times except he isn't into the same things. I'm going and seeing him whenever I'm not at work. I'm working a ton! Then one night exactly like when I first went over he put on our old favorite and we are laying in bed. As a kid I would trace over his burns to show him it didn't have to hurt. So I started to mindlessly draw shapes all over him but I noticed he was way more scared than ever but it might be because he's working now rather than training. And that night we slept together in a different sense. So in a way yes Dabi is my ex… We were a lot of each other's firsts."
"That still doesn't explain why he is holding our son. He is still one of the top villains Keigo!"
"Oh so I'm famous huh? Didn't know I had a following."
"Dabi I understand that you could sell my son for money but what is your real motive?"
"Alright alright it's because I am jealous"
"Of a baby?"
"No you dipshit of y/n… this was supposed to be our life. This is our dream house that has a balcony for you and a fireproof bedroom for me. As broken kids we wanted to adopt so we could change their lives. Have the family we could never have."
"BUT YOU LEFT!"
"ONLY CAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO RUIN WHAT WE ALREADY HAD!"
Soarin starts to squirm and hiccup. And they both lower their voices.
"what about toga hmm? Did you have a thing? That's why when we got coffee you talked about her.
"I was telling you how weird she was and all those new people I was around. And how they couldn't compare to you Kei. I hung around them cause they were so different not cause I was interested but to see if you were paying attention. But you were too busy focusing that I was with another person. Also that coffee date was to ask you if we could love together again. And try this thing out."
"Touya… I. I'm so sorry I didn't know and I'm sorry I treated you like that."
"Too late for apologies now hot wings."
"Well what now? I'm married and have kids. And of all that I'm a top hero and your a top villain."
"You really think I would sell your kid? I am hurt and broken and all these other things because you didn't even mention to tell me that you were having a baby let alone two. But I'm here to see if we can start over. After all there are two new lives literally."
"Touya." He says with tears smiling
"Excuse me do I not get a say in this? After all I did make,carry, and birth the babies. He just put his dick in me and came. And I also had to deal with the shit he went through with you Dabi. He was such a wreck when we first got together I couldn't believe all of that was from one person!"
"Heh you definitely picked a good one Birdy."
"I know but She actually picked me. I was still so hung up over you that it took me and y/n 3 months of dating to realize we were together." Rubbing the back of his neck
" Look I'm really here to see you again Keigo these kids just gave me an excuse. I want to help you guys with them. I don't think your partner is up to it."
"Like a polyamorous relationship?"
"Yeah that's why I said y/n probably won't be thrilled at the idea. But It could still be a polyamorous relationship just between us Kei. But at the least, I want to be in these guys' lives. You have to check in with your wife about that though."
"We will definitely discuss it."
"Thanks. Sorry to give you such a scare for just that but I really don't think like a normal person anymore. Here is your son. I promise my hands were clean before I picked him up." Said with a smirk
"Soarin."
"What?"
"His name is Soarin."
"Are you fucking kidding me. You name your kid Soarin. Jesus Christ poor kid. You let him name him that?"
Dabi points at you rolling his wrist backwards
"Look I was tired. I had already given birth once already and only cared that he was healthy at the time."
"Huh. Well alright. What about baby girl over here"
"Don't say it like that it's gross and now your chances of being involved have lowered. But it's Phoenix."
"Not bad but again you guys really? These poor kids already have daddy as a number 2 hero and mommy is also a pro hero."
"Watch it I picked that one patchwork."
"Ok ok just ribbin ya"
"They already did enough of that. I don't think I need anymore in my life."
"Ooh okay momma got it."
"Yeah their full names are Phoenix Sage Takami and Soarin Percy Takami."
"They have your family name?"
"Yeah the Takami name is a strong one and should be known and used in more than just in vain."
"Good choice. They will be strong I can already tell. Just like you."
"Hey I'm the one who's squirting milk out my tits and tore almost to my ass."
"Damn that's hot. Maybe sometime we can both fuck your wife birdbrain."
"Ah dabi not around the kids."
"Sorry. I'll work on it."
"Alright say goodbye to uncle dabi guys." He says taking back his baby
"Huh? Uncle dabi what do yo-"
"Me and y/n still need to talk about the whole situation. But you can still be uncle dabi at the least."
"Really? Wow I didn't think you would say that… thank you." Smiling
"Ya ya don't get to hung up on it."
"Psh shut up your the one to talk mr I didn't know we were dating till 3 months later."
All three of them sit in silence watching the two babies sleep peacefully.
" Well I'll be back in a few days to see them again. Don't be afraid to text me k?"
Keigo nods smirk
He stands in the window a second longer to look at them both and jumps down. He walks down an alleyway and says out loud to himself.
"Uncle Dabi oh please" shaking his head.
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Top 5 characters that live in your head rent free 🤔
For this ask meme
Oh god ONLY five??? GOOD QUESTION. This is gonna be hard to both decide on and rank fairly uhoh lets see, this ranking his shifty as hell depending on what I’m into atm obvs
5. Tsurugi Kamiya from Servamp
Does he look like a knock off Izaya? Yes. Is he? Very much no.
Tsurugi is like my no 1 reason for getting back into Servamp, I left right in the middle of his arc and I ;-; IS HE OKAY??? DID HE GET AWAY FROM TOUMA??? DID HE BECOME WRATHS EVE??? NOBODY TELL ME I’LL FIND OUT ON MY OWN.
Servamp was one of those shows where I didn’t really have a fav main character for a good while until this guy showed up. This guy is an absolute crazy little monster I can’t overemphasize on this, his coat is used as a fucking straight jacket I’m not even kiddin
You get introduced to him and he’s scary and terrifying because he’s so strong, like he’s one of those strongest in the series characters and since he and the heroes are on semi opposing sides he is a serious threat. So you get introduced to this guy who seems borderline crazy and feral and then...you get to see him goofing off with his two boyfriends and their kid and it’s just
The domesticity!!!!Look at it!!!! It’s so fucking cute aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, they are so cute together OT3 of C3 ftw, MY SON. Like Tsurugi had a horribly abusive childhood and was basically raised like an attack dog and his previous partner :) well he do be trying to seriously kill him don’t he. But look! He found his own little family he can be semi normal in!! Until is torn apart by his abusive adoptive father figure :D!!! I ABANDONED HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THAT ARC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
im sorry this got so long on this particular character none of the others will be so long i just miss him TSURUGI ILL CATCH UP FOR YOU!!!! Maybe he should have been no 1 hbjhbjh fucking sleeper agents am i right
4. Izaya Orihara from Durarara
Ah yes, the og queen bitch. Has my taste for villains ever recovered from Izaya? No. If your villain isn’t at least a bit like Izaya I’m not interested. Durarara was one of my first serious fandoms and Izaya was the first character I ever wrote for and I think you can explain me as a person if you consider Izaya was my all time fav at 13. I can’t really say anything about Izaya that hasn’t been said thousands of times before, I love how goofy and overperformative he can be, I love how there’s so much in him once you crack him open, I love how good of a villain he is for a messy story such as DRRR, puppeteer villains are really a league of their own. We need more puppeteering twinks, maybe then I’d be more into villains yaknow.
3. Hawks from Boku no Hero Academia
To no ones surprise!Him! I’ve been drifting off from BNHA recently what from catching bad case of JJK what from just reading n watching more other stuff and honestly that’s probably good because I’ve been into BNHA for a couple of years now as my main fandom and I really could have used a break. Not to say I don’t like BNHA anymore tbh I think right now BNHA is the best it’s ever been just ya know, drifting. That being said my love for Hawks will never die, god what a good boy and we got his backstory too aaa ;-;. BNHA was just like Servamp, something I liked but didn’t really have a fav character in until this random support character strolled in and won my heart. God I love how much we got on Hawks. He’s completely different from his initial impression and his unrelenting strive to do good despite being thrown from one horrible situation to the next is just ;-; HES SUCH A GOOD BOY. He’s selfless to a fault, literally putting everyone before himself and putting himself down for not being able to achieve more than is humanly possible I’m just ;-; I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY. He just makes my heart happy, he’s good and warm and hardworking and in a manga where trauma plays such a major role in so many characters it’s so good to see Hawks there, having been through three different types of hell and still coming out unnerving in his goodness. All I want for him is to have a good life and to one day be able to smile for real.
2. Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen
Again no surprise since I’ve been so into jjk lately. Satoru is p high up rn cuz I’m mainly into JJK now but god knows where he will actually settle. He’s not even really my favorite character in the show, that goes to Inumaki, but this is a list of who I think about the most (tho all of these characters are either no 1 or no 2 for their shows) and boy my brother and foxy can tell you I’m constantly thinking about this bitch. I didn’t really care about him that much at the start but then I got to Hidden Inventory and OH BOY MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. Satoru is such a wonderfully complex character whos evolution you can clearly follow through the years. He’s under so much pressure as the strongest sorcerer to deal with everything and he has to operate in that system trying to change it for the better while at the same time trying to make sure his students arent sacrificed in the name of that change. He has a very goofy disposition but along side with Nanamin who’s a lot more explicit about it, it’s clear he cares about mental state of his students a whole lot. He knows this world is terrible and that the will come out of it with scars and that he can’t protect them from all of it, but he balances protecting and letting them grow as much as he can. They need to grow so jujutsu society can change after all, but they also need to be protected so they don’t fuckin die before that can happen. This is without all the many many opinions I have on Hidden Inventory and SatoSugu as a whole, how they influenced each other, how differently they reacted to their shared trauma (Funny how everyone on this list is fuckin traumatized) and what resulted from it. How their fucking love story is dramatic enough to be a Shakespeare play. Also I like it when he’s long and goofy ahahah
1. Chuuya Nakahara from Bungou Stray Dogs
Not to objectify men on main but I couldn’t choose a picture
If there is ever a day when I don’t go feral over Chuuya I’ll probably be dead. He not only lives in my head rent free he owns the place.
HES SO UNDERUSED.
BSD has such a great setup with Chuuya, like he’s ex partners with the mentor of the main character who got betrayed and abandoned when the mentor left shared evil organization. Sounds like grounds for drama right? YOUD THINK SO. Like Chuuya and Dazai have such a great and interesting dynamic and you can feel how strained it is from the distance and betrayal and they bicker and fight as their defining relationship trait BUT there is such a strong underlying trust to all the fighting. These two trust each other with their whole lives and that hasn’t changed despite everything, despite how much time has passed and how much that trust had been tested. So you’d think he’d be an important character :) HES STUCK IN SUPPORT HONESTLY HES STUCK IN BACKGROUND UNLESS HES NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING COOL AAAAAA. Chuuya is literally one of a kind, I’ve never seen a character with such a good design and such an cool power and such an interesting relationship to one of the main characters and such a love and support from the fandom BE SO UTERLLY AND COMPLETLY WASTED. Even when we get Chuuya scraps they rarely build on relationship he has in canon but just throw in new random ones at him (tho that’s a broader problem of Kafka throwing new characters at the plot instead of developing the one he already has really). We get a hint of a cool fight with him? Completely cut out, More often then not it just feels like he is benched because he’s so damn strong there would just be no plot tension if he went in and broke some heads (which is also a problem with Satoru, guys stop writing op characters if you’ll just put em on the bus aaa). Anyway he’s completly and utterly wasted by the plot.
And it’s such a waste because he’s such a good character. Like he’s a member if the villain organization and is obviously by that very vicious and violent but also so empathetic and kind to people he considers his friends. He and Dazai have the brawn and brain thing going on and stg Chuuya is like the only brawn I can think of that is classier then their brain. Look at how this guy dressed, he’s high class gay, hat, choker, coat, gloves, he is bringing in the looks. I love how he can actually be completely calm and rational and put together but then put him with Dazai and it’s back to ‘we are 15 and we will scream out heads off at each other’, they are so childish.
Anyway I love Chuuya he deserves to be treated better and I will never stop screaming about Chuuya ever
#anon#lucy rants#ask game#this one was the most fun so far aaa i like to geek out#sorry it took so long anon but i had lots of fun with it <3
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 122
122
Lance made himself comfortable in the infirmary room he’d be using for the next few days. Coran had gone to fetch Keith after hooking him up with an IV line. Keith would freak, but they’d deal with that when he came. Pulling the blankets up to his shoulders, Lance rolled to face the door, left arm extended so he didn’t hurt himself with cannula, and a bucket had been found up in case he felt nauseous. He wanted Coran to hurry up and bring Keith down so they could talk, and so he’d have his boyfriend’s scent instead of disinfectant and cleanliness... He also wanted Keith to arrive before he fell asleep again, which he was in danger of doing with the extra blankets Coran had brought him.
When Keith finally did arrive, Lance was fighting to stay awake. His boyfriend freezing in the doorframe, Lance knowing his anger loaf was leaping to bad conclusions
“I’m okay, come over here”
“What are you... Coran, you said he was resting...”
“Ah, yes, well. I did think it best to Lance explain things after our little talk. I’ll leave you boys be”
Keith continued hovering near the door as Coran left
“Babe, come over here. I can’t talk to you when you’re so far away”
“You’ve got an IV in... Did...”
Lance found the strength to answer firmly yet softly
“Nothing happened. I want to talk to you, and... It’s not bad. Please will you just get over here and hug me already?”
Keith finally moved. Coming over to him, his boyfriend took his hand, Lance interlacing their fingers so he couldn’t escape being close to him
“Why?”
That was a good question. One he didn’t blame Keith for. He’d be flipping out if their roles were reversed
“I’m going to stay here for a couple of days”
Keith’s face crumpled with guilt
“I...”
“No. Nope. Nooo. You are not to blame. I... I’m having a little bit of trouble with my mental health and I asked Coran if I could stay”
“Because I didn’t do...”
“Keith. I know you’re blaming yourself. You take such good care of me, but... Today really was the last straw. I lived alone for a long time. You know that. And I love all you guys, but I’ve been feeling... feeling suffocated. Today I wanted to have the scan with just us there, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings with how considerate of me you’re all trying to be. You aren’t to blame. You love me and you’ve been trying your hardest to show it and I love you for it. I love you. But I need... I need a little space from having someone always shadowing me. Rieva and Curtis... even Shiro, I was feeling so tired that I started directing all that inside me because instead of asking for what I wanted, everyone was trying to tell me what they think I needed. We both have issues, babe, and that’s okay, but mine are a bit big at the moment so I need to slow down... Coran was supposed to tell you I was okay, but I guess he really did think we needed to talk to this out together”
Bringing Keith’s hand up, Lance kissed the back of it. He knew the importance of making sure Keith understood that he hadn’t been to blame for Lance’s mental issues
“You are amazing. I love you. I’m not here because of you. I’m here because I need a bit of a break... but not from you”
Keith still looked downcast. Maybe he needed a tiny break from Keith worrying but not from his boyfriend
“I noticed... that you’ve been pulling away”
“That’s because I feel so many things and my head is going round and round trying to work it all out”
“I just want to be there...”
Keith had the softest heart. It hurt to talk, but things left unsaid would only fester
“And you are. You’re my precious boyfriend. It took me my whole undead life to find you. I’m not unsure about us. I’m just tired of being fussed over non-stop like I’m not trying or not listening to my body. The IV line is there so I rest and I eat. I know it doesn’t work like a human, but I do get nutrients from the blood bag. I really need to get my head around what’s happening with my body and work out how to move forward again with you to make a life for our babies”
Twins weren’t planned. Their first baby wasn’t planned. Two really threw him for a loop
“I don’t want to lose you”
God. Keith was so cute. So very sweet. How anyone could have hurt him was beyond Lance’s comprehension. Once things had settled down and if they were still together, he was totally putting a ring on Keith’s finger when the time was finally right. He’d finally settled with his feelings over being so much older than his boyfriend. Keith was so young with so much life. He might not age on the outside but they’d mature further together.
“You’re not going to. I’m not going to wake up and let you go. Everyone knows this pregnancy is a little different and everyone is worrying for both of us. I just need a break from their worry for a little bit to calm down. I could see it too, you know, how you worried over them worrying about me. I’m so tired all of the time that waking up to eat sometimes leaves me exhausted... but then I think about this and us, and I love you and them even more. So instead of sleeping at home, I’ll be sleeping here and it only until after Halloween”
Keith’s bottom lip quivered, his boyfriend finally moving to hug him
“I hate seeing you in here”
“I know. But you’re the love of my life, Keith Kogane. I’m going to talk to Coran some more. I don’t think I’ve told you how much he helped after turning. I’ve had problems off and on since... and I know I’ve told you that. I’m having problems with how emotional I’m feeling, but... I want to talk to you about it. And I want you to talk to me. Or to Coran if you want. You’ve got a lot of things brought back up by this pregnancy. People are too quick to pretend the traumas of growing up suddenly disappear. We’re going to be dads and both of us kind had very different childhoods. We’ve just gotta work out what to do next together, after I’ve had some sleep and can think straight”
“Mum... mum said she’d support us”
Right. Krolia had left with Keith and the others to talk. He was shocked, and kind of not, that she’d want to be part of all of this. She deeply regretted leaving Keith with everything he went through growing up. What happened with Krolia was still left to Keith to decide. Keith had to keep working through those feelings
“Yeah?”
“Yeah... it felt weird... but she said she wanted to be there for us... I don’t know I can let her in...”
“Babe. I’m not going to tell you want to do or feel. Yours and Krolia’s relationship is something you’re working on at your own pace. I know you planned to tell her yourself, but honestly I was so ill tempered by the time we got here I wanted everyone to fuck off and leave us alone”
Keith snorted into his shoulder
“I kind of felt that way too, then I felt bad for feeling like that”
“That’s what I’ve been feeling lately. That I’m too tired to keep my ego from being a dick. Honesty, sometimes I want to punch myself in the dick when I think about my behaviour”
“You’re going through a lot”
“So are you. Everyone keeps focusing on me and I’m like what about you. What are you thinking and feeling? But it’s kind of hard to have a private conversation when the others keep butting in with their worry. It’s strange. I didn’t think I needed more than I had but now I have more I don’t want to give it all up. I want to have these babies. I want to be a better man and a good dad to them. I want to sit down with you and decide everything together. You’re their father. No one else, babe. Your feelings are so important to me. I know we didn’t plan on me falling pregnant so fast, or so early, but I can’t help but want that whole big future with you”
“They asked if we had names... and if I was quitting work and I didn’t know what to say or do”
Lance assumed “they” were Keith’s family. Krolia was probably going to be someone he was going to have to sit down and talk with one on one in the future. No ordinary hunter would allow a pregnant vampire to live. Not with the risk of spreading the curse through Lance’s blood
“We have time to work that all out. I’m not ever going to tell you to quit your job. You have my full support in every single way I can help. I’ve seen how much better being at VOLTRON has been for your mental health. I’ve seen you finally start believing in yourself like I believe in you. I know you’re scared because you lost your dad. I know you think you can’t do it, but I feel that way sometimes too. Not that you can’t, but that I’ll be a bad father... or that someone will swoop in and steal you away from me, seeing I’m so much older”
“No... I don’t want anyone else”
“I know, but think of the times you’ve been really low, when the smallest thing feels like a personal attack. That’s how my moods have felt lately. So think of this like a vampire day spa. I stay a few days, rest up, get plenty of blood and settle down a bit... I’m going to be okay, and we’re okay”
Keith took a shaky breath as he sat up to look Lance in the eyes
“I’m... I really don’t know what to do. You’ve been so sick... and I can’t... I can’t take that away from you. I feel like I can’t make you smile...”
“Idiot. You always make me smile. Before you came I was thinking about how much I wanted you to hurry up and be here already”
“I got you pregnant...”
“And I pretty much enjoyed like every moment of that... the after shock is still... shocking. But if it was going to be anyone in the world, it was going to be the man who makes me feel like the biggest, dopiest, love struck idiot around. You’re smarter and so, so, much more amazing that you let yourself believe. You’re like a total bad arse...”
Keith flushed with a soft blush
“I don’t feel very bad arse”
“That’s because depression and anxiety are horrible sluts that dance around with no underwear making you pay attention to them”
Keith wrinkled his nose at him, but finally he was getting close to a smile
“That’s... I don’t want to think about that”
“Exactly. It’s not something you want to think about but they don’t care. I know I should have talked to you like this sooner, but it’s hard to find privacy when you have a werewolf living in your house”
“I liked it better when it was just us”
Lance did too. Some days. Some days he wanted to throw everyone out like he’d tried to do with Keith. He was so grateful his anger loaf hadn’t left
“Baaaabe. You can’t just kick friends out. No matter how annoying they make you feel. You’re like stuck with us and all our annoying parts. Like Pidge can be super annoying but I fucking love that about her. Don’t tell Curtis, but the smell of his feet has actually become kind of comforting. They absolutely reek, but they say that he’s alive and he’s around, and I love that. And out of everything, I love your scent the most. Your scent makes me feel safe. Like I’m wrapped up in Mami’s lap, hugged until the world no longer matters”
“I don’t know if I know how that feels... to be that loved like that”
“It feels like what I have with you. We’re not always happy and we’re not always happy at each other, but together we have a happiness that’s more than I ever thought possible. We’ve got a lot to work out, and right now I’m fighting not to fall back to sleep”
“You should rest...”
“I’m going to, but I needed to make sure you understood I chose to be here for the sake of us and our babies. Have you got time for a nap?”
“I should... probably go pick Kosmo up. And let the others know you’re okay”
“Alright. I’m proud of you babe”
Keith leaned in to kiss him softly, Lance melting into the affection in the kiss, sad when it finally broke
“Is there anything you want from home?”
“Blankets... and maybe my laptop”
“You’re supposed to be resting”
“But if we have my laptop I can watch movies with you”
Keith huffed
“You don’t get to look that cute and make demands”
“You’re the one who asked. Maybe a change of clothes too? I’ll let you decide”
“I don’t know if I can”
“You can. I know you can. Just bring whatever you think I need”
“I don’t think I can bring your house”
Lance smiled at his idiot boyfriend
“Maybe not. Okay, you better go. Then I can go to sleep and sleep through missing you”
Keith kissed him again, his kisses really were the best
“I’ll be back as soon as I can”
“I know. But no speeding and make sure you wear your seatbelt”
“Yeah, yeah”
“Keith...”
“I won’t. Not when I have you waiting for me to come back”
“That’s right. We’re waiting for you. Be safe, samurai”
“You too, sharpshooter”
Lance groaned at the nickname. You shoot one target in the one spot and they never let you forget it. He felt bad for sending Keith off, yet Keith needed a little reminder that it was okay to be independent. He could only hope Keith would remember he’d driven Rieva and Curtis up to Platt and that they’d need a lift home. Spending time alone with the others was good for Keith... and it’s not like it was forever. He wanted to rest. He didn’t want to ask Coran to have to bar Keith from visiting, so after Keith came back, they were going to have to have another conversation.
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Seeking Sanctuary
Chapter Two: Family
(AO3)
Summary: 19 years after Chapter 16, Din and Grogu find themselves on the run again. They stop at a familiar sanctuary. Rating: T Pairing: Din Djarin x Omera Warnings: Mentions of trauma Notes: For Mandomera Week! Prompt: Family. It’s been a very long time since I’ve updated a fic two days in a row and I’m loving it.
(Previous) (Masterlist) (Next)
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The first week in Sorgan had been filled with a bounty of relaxation and sleep and a domesticity that felt unfamiliar to Din.
Grogu adjusted well to it, and Din supposed it was some semblance of what it’d been like for him at the Jedi Temple. Routine and warm meals and shared laughter that reminded Din - just faintly, a fading ripple of memory - of his own childhood on Aq Vetina.
The best part of the days here were always at the end, when they all came together. Winta’s wife, Vinita, joined them from working as the village’s only schoolteacher, and they gathered around the small fireplace that exuded warmth and peace almost as well as Omera’s family did.
Somehow he always found himself sitting next to Lori, who had been trailing him like a loth-cat after a yarn ball. Grogu had made his own seat claimed next to Winta and Vinita, who both adored the adolescent humor that Din had trouble keeping up with. He’d roll his eyes under his helmet but it still warmed his heart to see them all like this. Happy. Serene. Family.
Omera sat on the opposite side of him on the long couch directly in front of the fire. Lori had tired herself out with rambling some time ago, and Din had been amused to find she’d fallen asleep nestled up against his beskar, which stars, that couldn’t be comfortable.
He hesitated after a good half hour of her resting there, not wanting to wake her, but he carefully managed to tug his cape out from under his shoulder, bunching it up to prop her head against it. Lori mumbled something in her sleep. Din smiled, a hand reaching to brush wayward wild hair out of her face. It looked much like Winta’s.
“You’re good with her,” came Omera’s warm voice. Din paused then peered over at her.
“I don’t know about that. She’s just easily entertained,” he shrugged, his voice low; he was well aware of the sleeping child propped against his side.
“You’ll want to wash that cape later - she drools in her sleep,” Winta teased from across the room, making Grogu giggle around the cookie he was eating.
Din wasn’t sure how Omera had any food left at this point - his son was due for another growth spurt. He was small, yes, but the amounts he’d been devouring lately made Din’s own stomach ache.
“It’s seen worse,” he snorted, making Grogu laugh more.
Din glanced over and caught Omera’s spaced out stare on him. He frowned, shifting - not squirming - where he sat.
“You okay?” he asked, voice just right for only her to catch. She blinked and shook her head, smiling.
“Yes. I got lost in thought there,” she admitted. Her hand moved up to squeeze his upper arm, right under the left pauldron. She had often gifted him with small touches like that since he and Grogu had arrived once again on her doorstep. Goosebumps shivered across his hidden skin every time. He wasn’t complaining about it.
As conversation began to die down and the sun set and settled over the forested Sorgan horizon, Vinita gathered Lori carefully up from Din’s side.
“Thank you, Mando. She never falls asleep so easily for us,” she chuckled and shook her head. Din shrugged.
“I think she just wears herself out with all the questions,” he answered.
“Ah, I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not one to deny a child curiosity,” she grinned. Winta stepped beside her, running a hand over the surface of Lori’s hair and pressing a soft kiss to her wife’s cheek.
“Night all,” she said cheerfully, her eyes shining, and Din could see how truly happy she was.
Grogu tilted his head to the side where he still perched upon a smaller chair that Lori had shared with him.
He noticed everything.
Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes it left Din feeling annoyed, having to explain last night that no, Omera certainly didn’t look at him like he was the last cookie, where did Grogu even come up with these things.
But eventually, Grogu toddled off to bed, leaving Omera and Din alone, a fact which hit Din like a freighter in an asteroid field.
“You’re tense. Is your leg hurting?” Omera asked. Din huffed out a sound of laughter.
“No, I just - I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. He twisted the drooled covered end of his cape on his lap. “Your family is nice.” The afterthought came too quick, and he felt stupid once he said it, bumbling and nervous.
Omera chuckled.
“So is yours, you know.”
He paused at that.
Sure, Grogu was his son, they were family, a clan, but he had never heard the word nice to describe their unconventional familial ties. More often, the impressions he got were strange, or curious, or bewildered. Not nice. Certainly not anything near resembling normal.
“He’s … something,” Din said with wry amusement. “Everything, really,” he clarified. His eyes drifted and he lost his thoughts in the fireplace.
Omera leaned up against his side and steadily ripped him from his quiet musings. He took a breath, very aware of how warm she felt through his flight suit. His nerves rattled into a tangle of chaos inside his head; he willed himself not to tense. He didn’t want to discourage … this. Whatever this was.
Instead, his arm raised and slid over her shoulders and brought her closer and he felt like he had slipped into the middle of a very pleasant spice dream.
She relaxed further into his hold, and Din felt something in his chest give, something that had ached inside of him for a very long time.
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Mornings almost always came bright on Sorgan. This one made a harsh exception. Thunder rumbled through the whole hut - were the walls shaking? Din sat upright, jerked out of his peaceful warm slumber. Rain cascaded down in sheets against the thatched roof. A leak had begun right in front of the burnt out fireplace, water coming down in a steady and persistent drip drip drip.
Omera stirred beside him. Had they …. ? They had. They’d fallen asleep cuddled on the couch like a pair of partied out teenagers. Din held back a yawn, carding a gloved hand through her hair.
“It’s okay. Storm,” he said, still groggy with sleep. Omera hummed, tucking her head against his side. It was almost relaxing, until another sharp smack of thunder hit them. That was entirely too close to the hut for comfort.
Grogu dashed out of the bedroom before Din had time to think, big eyes finding him. Din could see the fear in them.
“Hey,” he said, gently disentangling himself from Omera and standing up, his shoulders strained and aching from the less than ideal sleeping position. Grogu trembled. Din had never seen him like this, and he immediately went forwards. He scooped his son up against his chest. Omera had come up behind him and placed her hand on the middle of Din’s back.
“What’s wrong? You okay, kid?” Din asked, his concern weighing heavy now. Grogu’s ears drooped. His small three fingered hands found the sides of Din’s helmet. Din leaned forwards so that his helmet touched Grogu’s forehead.
“The temple. A … A dream, I had.” The smaller than usual voice explained.
A nightmare, then.
Din hummed sympathetically. Those same images had haunted him the past week they’d been here. It surprised him that it hadn’t hit Grogu sooner, though he had noted his sons tossing and turning during the nights.
“I think I’ll make us some tea,” Omera spoke, her interjection quiet. Din nodded.
“Thank you. I - We’ll be in the room,” he told her. She gave him a little smile and nodded back before making her way to the kitchen.
Grogu clung to Din, and he brought him into the little bedroom. He sat down, putting Grogu to his side.
They sat in simple silence. Din remained patient, waiting. Finally Grogu spoke.
“You died.”
Din tilted his helmet over him at the words, before moving to slip it off. Fresh air hit his face and he ran a hand down it, grimacing at the feel of facial hair he hadn’t taken a chance to groom in over a week. But his eyes found Grogu’s.
“I didn’t,” he said. Simple, but true.
“The edge of death, you stood on. Better, I could have done. Sorry,” his son whispered, grief evident in his eyes. Din leaned over, rubbing Grogu’s small back.
“Hey, no. You saved me, and exhausted yourself doing it too. Don’t be- Don’t be sorry,” Din said, trying to wrap his head around what Grogu was feeling. “I’d do it again, kid. I’d do it a thousand times.”
“No,” Grogu said, voice sharp and loud and startling Din. He raised his eyebrows over towards his very frustrated, scared looking son.
“Family. You’re my family. My only, now,” Grogu said, quieter than before, with his ears nearly reaching down to his lap. His shoulders slumped along with them, sad and forlorn. Din squeezed his shoulder.
“That’s what families do. What a clan does. We protect each other, okay? I, in fact, like protecting you. I like seeing you alive and well. And happy, if I can,” the words spilled out of Din, more than he was used to at one time, especially so early in the morning.
“My Jedi family … gone,” Grogu said, mournful, and Din’s heart twisted.
“I would have protected them too, if I could have,” he said quietly. Grogu’s little laugh made his brow furrow.
“Protect you would, yes. Always. A father, you are. By blood not, but by soul, yes.”
The little words of wisdom coming from the teenage Jedi had Din turning his head away, suppressing the deep emotion that slammed into him. His fingers traced over the top of Grogu’s head, down to the tip of one ear. He tugged at it, with a hint of playfulness.
“Well. Someone had to do it.”
Grogu’s face buried hard into his side and wrapped Din in a tight little hug. Din took a deep breath and ran his hand over the kid’s back, trying to comfort him in some way.
“We’ll figure it out. Just … we’ll keep going, okay?”
Grogu nodded against his side. His breathing had evened out now, but he sounded more tired than when he first woke up. Grogu jumped as thunder clapped again, this time further away; the storm was settling down now, with a peaceful splatter of slow rain replacing it. Din held him closer.
-----------------
Grogu eventually fell back to sleep, and Din tucked him in. He held his hand back from running across Grogu’s small, vulnerable looking face before he slipped his helmet back on. The smell of tea hit him as he left the room. Winta and Vinita looked at him as he stepped out of the small bedroom. They lounged across the ouch Din and Omera had fallen asleep on last night. Din nodded at them. Vinita beamed, concerningly bright and bubbly every morning. Meanwhile, Winta looked her usual morning sour. Din smiled and walked into the kitchen.
Omera sat at the table with an empty cup in front of her. Two other cups - full - sat at the side.
“He fell back asleep.” The chair scraped across the floor and Din sat down. He noticed the frame of it creaking at his weight, seeming loud with the eerie dawn backdropped by rain. Omera nodded.
“I was going to bring it in to you, but I heard some serious conversation going on. I didn’t want to interrupt. I wasn’t sure if you had your helmet on,” she said.
“I didn’t.” Din looked over at the tea in front of him, calculating.
“You can take it into the room, I don’t expect you to drink it out here,” Omera said quickly.
“It’s fine,” Din shrugged, and he lifted his helmet just enough for a long draw of the perfectly not-too-cold and not-too-hot tea. He didn’t miss Omera’s sharp intake of breath, and he could see her turning her face away through the awkwardly tilted angle of his visor.
He sat the tea down, having drunk half of it swiftly. A pleasant warmth bloomed through his torso.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered. He pulled the helmet back down. Omera turned to him with a befuddled gaze. Her bottom lip jutted out in a frown and it was kind of adorable. Din cleared his throat and tapped his fingers over the surface of the table.
“You - you didn’t, I was trying to avoid the opposite,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Is that … Was that allowed?”
Din hesitated.
“It’s complicated.”
“Like what brought you here?” she mused, eyes meeting his, a glint of teasing in them. Din smiled.
“Two different kinds of complicated.”
Omera laughed again. He wanted to keep hearing that sound forever. He leaned forward some, sighing.
“You can stay here for … for as long as you need, you know. We’re happy to have you here again, with more than a barn to offer for lodging.”
“We won’t overstay our welcome,” Din said, almost in a questioning voice..
“You couldn’t. Not here. We like you here. Winta sees Grogu as her long lost brother, you know. And Lori has become very attached.”
Din sighed, his gaze meeting hers again, this time holding it.
“And what about you?”
Omera’s cheeks darkened, flustered, but her hand moved across the table. Her fingertips brushed excruciatingly lightly against his.
“What about me?” she asked. Her voice smiled.
“What do you see me - us,” he corrected himself swiftly, “as?”
Omera peered at him, a sincere look in her eyes that read somehow sad and happy at the same time.
“Mando, you’re like family.”
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Better Forgotten
Chapter Two
Pairings: Loki/OC
Summary: Dr. Ingrid Hansen is a respected psychologist struggling with the aftermath of the Snap as well as her own trauma from an accident she endured many years ago. Her world is thrown into utter chaos when she meets a dangerous man posing as a client. Dr. Strange is reluctantly tasked with protecting her, but in order to do so, he must first help her recover who she truly is. While she is grateful for his help, she has to wonder, are some things better forgotten?
Rated M
Chapter Warnings: Canon typical violence, memory loss, chronic pain
June 6, 2024
The clock seemed too loud in Dr. Hansen’s office as the afternoon sun filtered through the unshaded windows. She glanced up at it, annoyed.
2:30 . Her clients were due half an hour ago. She swallowed her frustration and massaged her brow as she picked up the phone and called her receptionist, Lauren, whose desk was down the hall.
“Yes, Dr. Hansen?” Her voice was chipper, likely because of how much coffee she drank.
“It looks like the Coopers are a no-show. Can you please phone them and see if you can get them to reschedule?” Ingrid said, looking over their file. It was disappointing to see them skip an appointment. They had made good progress over the last two months.
“Sure thing. Would you like me to send in your next client?”
“He’s here already?”
“Yep.”
Ingrid was used to people being right on time or five minutes late. To be half an hour early was nearly unheard of in her practice.
“Sure, send him in,” Ingrid.
“You got it!” Lauren said and hung up the phone. Ingrid found herself smiling at her young employee’s enthusiasm. Sometimes she wished she could bottle some of that energy for herself. She took a moment to refresh her lipstick in the mirror she kept in her desk drawer and smooth the stray hairs that had escaped her barrette.
There was a hesitant knock on her office door and she put the mirror away. She stood and straightened her skirt, crossed the plush carpeted floor, and opened the door.
The man at the threshold was tall and slim, wearing a dark suit and deep green tie, which only served to emphasize his pale complexion. His coal-black hair was combed neatly back, which almost hid how long it was. She smiled up at him pleasantly, not allowing herself to linger on the strangeness of his presentation. He stared back at her with striking green eyes. Something about him seemed slightly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. For just a moment, he looked ever so slightly unnerved, but she blinked and his expression was once again composed.
“Mr. Lawson?” she asked, holding out her hand.
“Yes,” he said in a voice just slightly deeper than she had expected. He took her hand gently. “Dr. Hansen?”
She nodded and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
He stepped into the room and looked around. The office was decorated in Ingrid’s favored modern style, with tones of soft grey and blue being the dominant color scheme. She found the colors to be calming.
“You have a lovely office,” he commented, searching for something to say. She kept her face in its practiced neutral expression as she made note of his body language. He held his hands clasped in front of him. His posture was excellent but rigid, with his chin held a little higher than what she would consider to be normal.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I like to keep the space organized. I find that it invites a clear mind.” She gestured to the soft blue couch with an open hand in invitation. “Have a seat,” she said as she settled into the short-backed chair on the other side of the coffee table, crossing her ankles gracefully. He sat, but only after she was sitting.
“Would you like anything before we begin?” Ingrid asked.
“No, thank you,” he said, settling in his seat. She flipped open a legal pad in a handsome leather portfolio.
“Your first name is Walter, yes?” she asked. He nodded. “Well, Walter, what do you do for a living?”
“Advertising,” he answered in an almost practiced way. She scratched a note on her pad.
“Ah, psychology’s evil twin,” she quipped. He smirked.
“I suppose so.”
“And what brings you in today?” This was the first hurdle. Sometimes a client wouldn’t be fully transparent and Ingrid would have to coax it out of them. Walter shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.
“I’m...I’m looking to reconnect with my wife,” he answered, his voice tense. She nodded in acknowledgment, taking another note. “I was told that you were the person to come to for this sort of thing.”
She smiled. “Well, marriage and family counseling is my specialty.” She pointed her pen at her degree on the wall. He remained stiff. Best to stay on topic, she decided. “Are you and your wife separated?” He nodded, thin lips pursed as though he was deciding what he would and wouldn’t tell her. “Divorced?”
“No.” His tone was final. She watched him closely, eyes betraying nothing but patience. He seemed to realize how rude he had sounded. “We never discussed it,” he amended. Her eyes darted to his ring finger, still adorned with a gold band carved with designs she couldn’t quite make out. He followed her gaze. “I never had the heart to take it off.”
“You sound a little embarrassed about that,” Ingrid observed. His knuckles turned white as he briefly clenched his fist.
“I’m not known for being particularly sentimental.”
Ingrid looked up from her notes and smiled softly. “Then you have made a very brave choice in coming here. It can be difficult to allow yourself to be vulnerable.” He chuckled and shook his head as though trying to shrug off the idea.
Ingrid let him linger a moment in the silence that followed before calling him back to the present. “How long have you been separated?” she asked.
He thought for a moment. “About thirteen years.”
She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, lacing her fingers together. “That’s a long time.” He nodded. “Were either of you victims of the Decimation?”
Walter nodded again slowly, keeping eye contact with her as though trying to make her understand his reasons without speaking them aloud. She would get to the bottom of it eventually, but if he did not wish to discuss it now, she certainly would not push it. The elimination of half the population had caused a significant amount of trauma for most people. The sudden loss of so many loved ones left many feeling alone and instilled a sense of fear and uncertainty that left them feeling hopeless. Some feared that a second Decimation would happen, and the lives that they had managed to piece together would be shattered once more.
It was a topic for another session.
“Have you spoken to her since then?”
“No,” he said, his voice quiet. “No, I haven’t.”
“I see.” She sat back again and folded her hands in her lap. “Well, the Decimation certainly has affected relationships, whether it’s torn them apart or prompted couples to get back together. That being said, thirteen years of separation changes the dynamic of a relationship. It may be...difficult for your marriage to recover.”
He frowned. “Are you saying you can’t help me?” There was an icy edge to his voice that unnerved her. Something had peeked through his carefully crafted fa ç ade. Rage, loss, desperation? It seemed to be all of those things at once and then none of them at all.
“Not at all,” she said after a pause that was longer than she meant it to be. “I only want you to be prepared if your wife does not wish to pursue reconciliation.”
He ran his fingers over his ring, staring out the window again. “Don’t say that, Doctor. I need her back.”
“I will do everything I can,” she assured him.
“Thank you,” he said, refocusing his eyes on her. She nodded.
“The Decimation was only six years ago,” Ingrid continued. “What happened to prompt such a lengthy separation before that?”
Walter considered her carefully before replying, watching her as keenly as she watched him. “There was a...family disagreement regarding an inheritance.”
“And this was enough for you to separate?” she asked curiously.
His jaw clenched and relaxed again as he shifted in his seat. “Yes,” he answered after a pause that was a mere moment too long. She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
Perhaps she could prompt him in the right direction. “Tell me about your family,” she said gently.
“I don’t see what they have to do with anything,” he hissed, a small snarl revealing itself under his sharp nose.
Though the severity of his reaction was slightly unusual, the sentiment was not. The connection between one’s upbringing and how they handled their personal relationships were inextricably linked, whether it was because the person wanted to be just like their parents, or the opposite of them, or simply because they mimicked what they observed and knew to be normal. More often than not, they were entirely unaware of the connection.
“Think of your psyche as a house.” Ingrid began. “If your childhood is your foundation, then everything built upon it is dependent on it. If the foundation is flawed, then the frame of your house might tilt. You might not even notice it at first, but sooner or later you’ll want to hang a picture and that picture will never quite hang straight.” He tilted his head and raised a brow in what appeared to be amusement. “We need to examine your foundation to see why your pictures aren’t hanging straight.”
He allowed himself a chuckle. “I don’t know if there are enough hours in a day to recount all of my family’s failings. Besides, I don’t think you’ve ever heard a story quite like mine.”
She sat forward. “Try me.”
He took in a deep breath and let it hiss loudly out between his lips. “It’s complicated.” She squinted quizzically at him. He huffed. “Why does this have to be so difficult?”
Ingrid closed her notebook and set it down. “The first session is always the hardest,” she said reassuringly. “Why don’t we take a break? I could personally use a cup of tea.” He sighed and nodded. She got up and went to the electric kettle she kept on the side table by the door and flicked the switch.
“I’ll take a black coffee,” Walter said from the couch. She set a bag of pomegranate tea in her mug to steep and poured him a cup of coffee. She held his drink out to him as she came back around to face him.
Walter’s hand reached out to take it from her. As he took the clean white ceramic mug, his fingers brushed against her skin. Surely an accident, but Ingrid found herself holding his gaze. Something familiar scratched at the back of her mind. Not quite déjà vu, but more like the hazy memory of a long-forgotten dream. But the harder she tried to dredge it to the surface, the further down it sank. A pain bloomed behind her eyes. She looked away and massaged her temple with her free hand.
She hoped it wouldn’t turn into an episode. The idea of getting a migraine during an appointment was mortifying.
“Is something the matter?” Walter inquired.
Ingrid shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of a headache. I’m sure some tea will clear it right up,” she assured him with a smile as she resumed her seat.
Walter sipped his coffee thoughtfully. His gaze did not leave her as he brought the mug to his lips. She found it slightly unnerving. The spot behind her eyes throbbed again. She set her mug down with a wince as she pressed her hand to her forehead firmly.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Walter asked, a slight tone of worry coloring his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted as the pain subsided again. “Sorry, that was so strange. Let’s continue, shall we? Tell me about your wife.”
He rubbed his thumb along the handle of the mug and sighed. “Gentle, kind most of the time, and beautiful of course.”
“Of course,” Ingrid agreed with a smile, though she wondered if perhaps he was seeing through lenses tinted with pretty memories. “What’s her name?”
Walter’s hands stilled. He set his cup down and steepled his fingers in consideration as he examined Ingrid from across the room. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.
“Sigyn.” The name fell from his mouth with reverence, the syllables passing over his lips like an incantation. Longing draped itself over the word and Ingrid felt a pang of sympathy. His wife’s name was sacred to him even after so long being apart from her.
“Like the myth,” she remarked, pretending not to notice Walter’s initial hesitation. He sighed heavily, his eyes sliding away from her. “Have I upset you?” she asked with a practiced but sincere tone. Walter frowned but remained silent, running his fingers over his bottom lip in thought. “Walter?”
He glanced up at her again before getting to his feet and crossing the room to the window. Ingrid stood and followed him as he clasped his hands behind his back, reminding her of a ship’s captain surveying the deck below. She wasn’t alarmed by the behavior, having dealt with many couples trying to hash out issues and finding themselves pacing in an attempt to work off the nervous energy.
“Myths,” he muttered, studying the New York skyline. “That’s what we were reduced to.”
Her brow furrowed. We?
“Only they weren’t myths, were they? Thor is real. He’s out there making a spectacle of himself every chance he gets,” he said, spite cutting into his voice.
“Well, yes. I suppose that’s true,” she admitted. “A lot of things we thought were impossible have been proven possible over the past few years.”
He turned abruptly to look at her again, green eyes piercing her own in a way that made her suddenly feel like she was under a microscope. “More than possible, Doctor. Factual.”
She opened her mouth to agree but found herself mute at the sight of a golden shimmer passing over Walter’s body. She gasped and stumbled backward into her desk, knocking over a stack of paperwork. He stepped toward her as his suit was replaced by a black breastplate with gold inlay catching the light of the afternoon sun. A long green cape flared out behind him as he continued forward with a wicked smirk.
In his full regalia, the image of him finally placed itself in Ingrid’s memory.
“You-” she said breathlessly. “You’re Loki. You’re the one who attacked New York!” she exclaimed shakily, pressing herself farther against her desk.
His smile faded, replaced by a bewildered expression. “What?”
Panic ripped itself through her veins and she did the only thing she could think of. Ingrid opened her mouth to scream for help, but her cry was quickly muffled by Loki’s hand.
“Don’t,” he said in a low voice, keeping his hand clamped over her mouth.
She fumbled for something to defend herself with and blindly snatched a copy of the DSM-V, hitting him over the head with the heavy book, knocking his hand away. He grunted at the force of the strike but hardly seemed slowed by it. If anything, he looked annoyed. She made to punch him before he caught her hand, arresting her blow just as she was about to connect with his face. She tried again, only for him to repeat his defense and catch her other hand.
“Stop it!” he demanded, scowling down at her.
She stilled, trying to remember any negotiating tactics she could think of. Did the same rules apply to alien supervillains? “What do you want from me?” she asked, trying to match his scowl.
His grip slackened just a little. “I’m not--”
At that precise moment, the door came flying open and Lauren burst into the room. Ingrid wanted to shout to her to run, but then she saw the pistol trained on Loki’s chest.
“Why do you have a gun?!” was the only thing Ingrid could manage.
“Get down!” Lauren shouted back at her.
Ingrid felt herself being pushed away as Loki lept away and the first shot rang out. Ingrid screamed and took cover behind her desk, covering her ears in an attempt to block out the deafening noise of gunfire. She heard glass shatter and in a strange moment of confusion wondered how much replacing the windows was going to cost her. The gunfire stopped and Lauren swore.
Ingrid peeked out from behind her desk to see that the middle window was shattered. Her ears were ringing and her hip ached from where she had hit the floor, but she seemed to be otherwise unscathed. Loki was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes finally landed on Lauren, who was reloading her magazine.
“Lauren, what the hell-?” Ingrid said breathlessly, unable to articulate further.
“Dr. Hansen, are you hurt?” Lauren asked, her voice lower than Ingrid was used to hearing.
"No, I don't think so," she replied quickly.
"Good. I need you to come with me," Lauren said, barely letting Ingrid finish her sentence.
“But-”
“Now.” She grabbed Ingrid’s arm and pulled her out into the hallway and to the stairwell. Ingrid immediately regretted wearing heels that day and quickly pulled her shoes off, opting to carry them instead. Lauren urged her to hurry as she led a now barefoot Ingrid down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor parking garage.
“Where are we going?” Ingrid asked desperately.
“Getting you out of here,” she replied.
“But why? He’s not even here anymore,” the bewildered psychologist pointed out as Lauren pulled her to a shiny black sedan and ushered her into the passenger seat. “Hey!” Ingrid protested as the door slammed without a response from her receptionist.
“We don’t know that,” Lauren said as she hurriedly got into the driver’s seat and turned the key, peeling out of the parking garage as quickly as she could. She directed her phone assistant to call someone named Maria Hill. The robotic voice confirmed the call and the phone was answered before the first ring was finished.
“This is Hill,” said the steady, feminine voice on the other end of the line.
“Hill, this is Soren. We’ve had an incident,” Lauren said. Ingrid made a face.
“Soren?” she asked. Lauren just shook her head as a signal for her to be quiet.
“Who is that?” Hill asked, concern coloring her tone.
“One half of the incident,” was Lauren’s reply. “I have Dr. Hansen with me. She was confronted by Loki.”
There was a brief silence before a stern reply. “Get her here, now.”
“Already on it. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Good.”
The call ended and Ingrid looked at Lauren questioningly. “Am I being kidnapped?” Ingrid asked. Lauren smirked.
“No Dr. Hansen, you’re not being kidnapped,” she said in a flat tone that only vaguely revealed her amusement.
“Then do you want to explain just what the hell is going on?” Ingrid said, anxiety now dissolving into irritation as she slipped her shoes back on her feet. “Starting with your real name.”
“I can explain everything once we reach our rendezvous point, but I can tell you that my name is Soren and I am not a secretary.”
“Oh, well that explains everything,” Ingrid said sarcastically. “I want to know what’s going on, now, before I go anywhere with you.”
Soren stopped the car at a stoplight abruptly and Ingrid’s seatbelt constricted painfully across her chest. The younger woman turned to look at her with a face devoid of any amusement, her brown eyes narrowed. “Look Doctor, I know you’re scared and confused, but I have been ordered to keep you safe. We aren’t sure what Loki wants or why, but we’re going to figure it out. Right now, you just have to trust me, okay?” Ingrid swallowed and nodded. “Good.”
Soren hit the gas as the light turned green.
“Can I at least ask where we’re going?”
“Greenwich Village.”
The hour and a half it took to get to the grey nondescript building would have been a mere forty-five minutes if not for the New York traffic. Ingrid thought mundanely about how traffic in large cities was awful no matter where you went. They pulled into a parking structure that appeared to be largely abandoned.
“I know, it’s pretty austere looking,” Soren said. “We just want to make sure we aren’t somewhere where he might hear us.” Ingrid couldn’t stop the anxiety from creeping into her chest as they parked next to a black SUV. Soren got out and looked around before gesturing for Ingrid to follow. She obeyed and they climbed into the backseat of the second vehicle.
“Glad you made it,” a woman in the driver’s seat said to Soren as the two of them slid into their seats. The interior of the car was neat, with all the bells and whistles and then some. It smelled like new leather, though it must have seen frequent use given how much it must have cost.
“Me too,” said Soren. “Dr. Hansen, this is Maria Hill.”
Maria turned to look at her and offered her hand. Ingrid shook it.
“Don’t worry, Doctor. We’ll take care of you,” she said with a reassuring smile. Ingrid tried to smile back, but only managed a grimace.
“I appreciate it.”
A tall man with cool brown skin and a patch over his left eye turned to greet them from the passenger seat. Ingrid watched all three of them closely, her apprehension only growing as more people were introduced into the equation.
“Am I under arrest?” she finally asked.
“No, you’re not,” the man said, turning to look at her with his single eye. “Dr. Hansen, my name is Nicholas Fury,” he said, shaking her hand. “Just call me Fury. I heard you’ve had quite the afternoon.”
“You could say that,” she replied. He smiled, though she sensed he was only trying to put her at ease. She set her jaw. “Are you with the FBI or something?” she asked.
“They wish,” Soren said.
“We represent an extra-governmental intelligence agency that’s been keeping tabs on persons of interest,” Fury explained. The vagueness of his explanation did nothing to calm Ingrid’s nerves.
“And I’m a person of interest?” she asked. Fury nodded. “Why? I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know,” Fury assured her. “It isn’t that you’ve done anything wrong, Dr. Hansen. We’ve seen your records. Graduated NYU after coming here from England after a boating accident killed your parents and nearly killed you too.”
Ingrid’s eyes went wide and she pressed herself into her seat, watching him carefully. “H-how did you-?”
“Like I said, intelligence agency.” His voice was smooth and calm, though she could not help but detect the barest hint of a warning through his words. Her mouth felt dry. She tried not to show her alarm, but she was certain they could all feel it pulsing through the air between them.
“But why me?” Ingrid pressed.
Fury and Hill exchanged a look, communicating all they needed to without a word. They must have worked together for a long time.
“Your accident corresponded with an unusual atmospheric event,” Fury began as he turned back to face her. “We wanted to make sure it was a coincidence.”
“That was thirteen years ago,” Ingrid reminded him. “You’ve watched me for that long?”
“Yes, and it turns out it was a damn good thing we did,” Fury replied with an edge of irritation. “I know this is difficult for you to understand, but after the events of the past several years, we couldn’t take any chances. The fact of the matter is that in our line of work, there are no coincidences. We don’t know what Loki wants, but we know that he came to you for a reason. It’s our job to figure out why.”
An overwhelming sense of dread filled her gut. Ingrid looked down at her lap, nervously wringing her hands together. “How can I help?” she asked quietly, looking back up at them.
“Why don’t you explain what happened today?” Fury said as he adjusted his posture to get comfortable.
Ingrid took a deep breath and told them how she had had an appointment with a man named Walter Lawson, everything he had told her, and how he was acting somewhat strangely, but nothing terribly unusual until he revealed himself to be Loki.
“He didn't hurt me, but I don't know if that means he wouldn't have,” she said. “And then Lauren...I mean, Soren, burst into the room.”
Fury squinted at Soren with his one eye. “The alias you picked was Lauren?” he asked skeptically.
Soren shrugged. “Rhymes are easy to remember.”
Fury shook his head and returned his gaze to Ingrid. “Is that all that happened? Seems strange that he would come looking for therapy, as much as I'm sure he could use it.”
“I’m sure it was a ruse,” Soren offered.
Ingrid frowned in thought. “But, he seemed sincere.”
“He’s the god of lies, a master manipulator. He knows just what to say and how to say it to get his way,” Hill reminded her.
“Yes, well I’m a doctor of psychology,” Ingrid said stubbornly. “I know what manipulation looks like.”
The three of them exchanged a look. “This isn’t a judgment of your abilities, Doc,” Fury said. “Loki could sell you oceanfront property in the Sahara desert and you’d thank him for it. He’s been at this a long time. Longer than any of us have been alive or even hope to live. I very much doubt he was telling you the truth.” He raised his brows expectantly as Ingrid considered this. Her pride deflated slightly. He had a point.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said.
All three breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” Fury said. “You’re sure nothing else happened during your appointment?”
“Yes,” Ingrid said. “I did get a headache in the middle of the appointment, but that isn’t out of the ordinary.”
“Do you get headaches often?” Fury asked.
She nodded. “I’ve gotten migraines a couple of times a month at least since my accident,” Soren and Hill exchanged a look at the mention of the accident.
“My mother got migraines,” he said. “I don’t envy you.”
“I’ve got some memory loss too,” she added.
“Sounds like something you should have checked out,” Hill suggested.
“I have,” Ingrid said. “CAT scans couldn’t find anything wrong. I guess it’s just one of those things.”
Hill, Fury, and Soren exchanged a quick look. “Must be,” the man said, looking back at Ingrid. “Dr. Hansen, I know you’ve had a harrowing day, but I’m afraid it’s not quite over yet.” She felt her stomach tighten. What more did they want from her? She was exhausted and her headache had continued to persist since the confrontation, and she had the distinct feeling of grime on her skin from running through a parking garage barefoot. “We’re going to have to insist that you stay in protective custody until you’re in the clear.”
“What?!” she exclaimed indignantly. She felt like he had just told her she was grounded. “But what about my patients?” she asked in desperation. “I can’t just leave them without explanation.”
“We’ll get it sorted out with you. Soren has told us that your practice is your pride and joy,” Hill said.
“Where am I supposed to stay?” The logistics were sending her reeling. She wasn’t prepared to drop a small fortune on a hotel room.
“We’ll take care of it,” Fury assured her. “The most important thing is that you’re safe.”
“I appreciate everything you’re all doing for me, but I’ll be fine if I go home,” Ingrid insisted. All three sets of eyes looked at her incredulously.
“With all due respect, Dr. Hansen, I don’t think you understand what this man is capable of,” Hill said, watching her closely. “We’ve arranged for a place for you to say where I’m sure you’ll be safe.”
“And where on earth is that?” she asked, her irritation growing more apparent.
Fury smirked. “We’re going to visit another contact of ours.”
#Better Forgotten#my fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#fanfiction#loki x oc#loki x ofc#doctor strange#stephen strange#Marvel#marvel fanfiction#loki#Doctor Strange x OC#Doctor Strange x OFC#SHIELD#SWORD
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Feel the Adrenaline Moving
Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 1
Word Count: 2494
Rating: Teen and Up
Warnings: Robincest (obviously even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of gunshot wound, mentions of past child abuse by a bad parent
Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Summary: Food Truck Owner!Jason and Police Officer!Dick have spent the last couple of months flirting with each other the few times a week Dick orders food from Jason's food truck. When they finally decide to go on a date and Dick stands him up, Jason is left wondering if he had been wrong about the other man all along.
Notes: This idea stemmed from the idea of a no capes AU where Jason owns a food truck with Artemis and Dick is a GPD officer who is obsessed with his food. Dick and Tim were both adopted by Bruce and Damian is still his son through Talia, a failed relationship years prior where she never told him she was pregnant. I have not introduced the other members of the batfam (though Babs is an exception because she’s mentioned as an ex and still friend in the current installment I’m working on), but have their introductions to the story already planned out.
Jason is softer in this AU because while he has some childhood trauma, it’s not nearly as bad as his canonical trauma. So I’ve been exploring the side of him that could have been, if you get what I mean.
Also, if you do not like the pairing then just move along. Or block me. I can and will block any rude or hateful comments. I have both traditional and nontraditional siblings and don’t need to hear about how I don’t support adoptive families. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Just because I write murder doesn’t mean I support murder. Capisce? Good.
You can also read this on AO3 here
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“This is stupid. How do we even know this is the right truck?”
“Don’t play stupid, Harper. He was extremely specific. Egg rolls made with things like bacon mac or Reubens. Hot guy, dark hair, white streak in front, and arms to die for. This is obviously him.”
Jason raised an eyebrow at the two arguing redheads, curious why they were looking for him and his truck. Thankfully, the rush had passed and now it would just be the stragglers until they closed up shop for the day.
The pair turned to face the order window to find Jason there, arms folded on the counter and an amused smirk on his face.
“Jason?”
“So it would appear. That was an oddly specific description. Can I help you guys?” He watched the pair exchange a look before the more rugged looking of the two stepped forward.
“We’re here because of Dick.” And of all the scenarios running through his head, Dick had not been involved in any of them.
“I see,” Jason said sharply, smirk fading to a scowl. “He has made his point perfectly clear without sending his harem of redheads to clarify.”
“What point?”
“Harem of redheads?” But Jason just raised an eyebrow.
“Ah fuck, Wally. Dick was right.” The man looked to Wally and then back to Jason. “Look, I’m Roy Harper and this is Wally West. Dickie is our best friend and whatever point you think he’s making, he’s not. Trust me.”
“He’s in the hospital. Got shot in the chest on the job two weeks ago and just regained consciousness yesterday,” Wally relayed, and Jason had to grip the counter to keep upright.
“He…Is he going to be okay?” And wow did he feel like an ass.
“Yeah. Doctors said maybe two more days before he can go home. It was bad there for a while but they kept him in the medically induced coma so he could heal without his usual bullshit of getting up too early. But look,” Roy crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at Jason, “You need to come to Gotham General. Once he was fully awake, he started freaking out about you. Something about a date, missed calls and texts, and you hating him.”
“Jesus, Roy. Dickie said to just tell him what happened. Not to guilt the guy into a visit.” Wally smacked Roy’s upper arm with the back of his hand. “Though, yeah,” he turned back to Jason, “Dick would probably weep tears of joy if you showed up. He was pretty wrecked.”
Jason wasn’t quite sure what to say, still working the fact that Dick had been shot and hadn’t just ditched him. He had spent the last two weeks wondering what it was he had done. He had gone over that last in-person interaction and the text message thread, wracking his brain for any kind of hint. And the first week had tried to text and call but had been met with silence. So, the past week he had convinced himself that Dick had just been fucking with him all along and never meant any of it. Now he was hearing the other man had nearly died and Jason had been the ass who had thought the man was just ghosting him.
“Did we break him?”
“Shut it, West. Look man, he’s in room 212 at GG. Give us a last name to go with Jason and we’ll put you on the visitor’s list.”
“Visitor’s list?”
“Comes with being Bruce Wayne’s son.” Jason gave Wally a weird look.
“His last name is Grayson…?”
“Yeah, but Bruce adopted him. Took him in after-“ Roy covered Wally’s mouth with his hand and glared at the other man.
“Shut the fuck up, West,” Roy growled and hell if that didn’t just pique Jason’s interest. “Now give us an order of whatever is Dickhead’s favorite so we can get a smile on his pathetic face.” Jason stood frozen for a moment before waving away Roy’s credit card and hanging the closed sign. He quickly whipped up an order of the bacon mac ‘n cheese rolls and an order of churros before bagging it all up.
“My last name is Todd. Get me on the list,” Jason said as he stepped out of the truck and handed the bag of food over. “I gotta clean this shit up because hazard and all that, but I’ll come by after I’m done.”
“Good,” was all Roy said as he grabbed the bag and turned to leave.
“Nice to meet you man! See you around, hopefully,” Wally called out as Roy grabbed his arm and dragged him away.
Jason wasn’t sure what he had been expecting once he finally got to Dick’s room at the hospital, but a fancy and very private suite was not it. And even less than that, a fifteen or sixteen-year-old kid fussing over Dick while Dick just smiled at the kid fondly.
“Dames, stop,” Dick laughed softly, reaching out to stop the kid from messing with the pillows again. “I’m good. Just go meet Jon already.”
“Tt,” the kid responded before turning to grab his bag from the chair next to Dick’s bag. When he tensed all over, Jason knew he had been spotted. “Who the hell are you? This is supposed to be a private room, not some free for all.” Wow.
“Jason,” Dick’s surprised voice cut in. Jason looked from the kid to Dick and practically melted at the look on his face. Surprised, yes, but the warmth was there and god if Jason didn’t want to just cross the room and press his lips to the other mans.
“Dick, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He took two steps into the room before the kid was standing in front of him, almost the same height as him but much leaner compared to Jason’s bulk. Raising a brow, Jason stared the kid down and waited.
“Dami, stop. This is Jason, my friend who owns the food truck.” The kid didn’t move or acknowledge Dick’s words. “Damian, knock it off.” Authority slipped into Dick’s tone and Jason wanted to smirk in victory when Damian tensed but backed off. “Jon is waiting,” Dick reminded him gently and with a grunt and one last glare sent to Jason, Damian was storming out of the room.
“Fun kid,” Jason commented, looking back toward the door before closing the rest of the space between him and Dick’s bedside. “Jesus, Dick. I almost dropped when Roy and Wally told me what happened. I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”
“They didn’t guilt you into coming here, did they? They can be a bit much at the same time when you don’t know them.” Shaking his head, Jason tugged the chair closer to the bed and sat down. Without allowing himself to overthink it, he grabbed Dick’s hand in his and held it with both of his. The smile he got in return was well worth it.
“Nah, they just told me what happened. Said you’d like it if I stopped by and asked for my last name.” Dick nodded and sunk a little deeper into the pillows piled up behind him. “So, Damian is your…?”
“Oh. Brother. I know those idiots let slip that Bruce Wayne is my adoptive father, but Damian is Bruce’s only actual blood son. Tim and I were both adopted after our parents died.” Jason wanted to know more about that, but the look on Dick’s face told him he wasn’t quite ready to let him in on that darkness.
“He’s a very intense kid. How old is he?”
“Sixteen going on sixty,” Dick laughed. “He’s a good kid, despite the glare and protectiveness. He didn’t have the easiest beginning. B didn’t even know about him until he was eight. Lesson learned: protection is never a guarantee.” Jason laughed at that and shook his head.
“So, his mom was not a good parent?”
“The only person worse than her was her father.” Dick’s face turned from amused to angry faster than Jason realized he could and he was surprised at the fire there. “When LA Social Services called and told Bruce about Damian, he was…it was bad.” Jason squeezed Dick’s hand and the other man gave him a thankful smile. “Tim and I came from homes that knew love. Damian, I don’t think he had ever known love of any kind until he came to Gotham.”
“Poor kid.” Dick nodded sadly. “But he seemed pretty fond of you in the few seconds before he noticed me.”
“Yeah,” Dick agreed, and the smile was back on his face. “Bruce is a great man and a good father, but he’s not the most emotionally available man. He struggled with Damian when he came to live with him. Tim was a teenager already and I had moved out on my own, so B was pretty much on his own. But then he called me one night and begged me to help because he didn’t know if he was just screwing up Damian more than he already was.”
Well, fuck. How shitty was it that a man could tell he was not the best option for his own child’s mental and emotional health but that his older son was? Jason couldn’t imagine feeling so poorly about himself and that said something because he didn’t like himself most days.
“I moved back home and took a sabbatical from work in order to help. It was hard and there were plenty of times I would shut myself in my room and ask what the hell I was trying to accomplish, but Damian eventually improved.” Letting out a sigh, Dick looked down at Jason with a hint of sadness. “I think sometimes B wishes he hadn’t called me in. He and Dami…they’re not close. They respect each other, and B loves him like he loves Tim and me, but when Dami does something to be proud of it’s me who he comes to.”
“He views you as a father more than his actual father.” Dick hummed and looked over toward the window, avoiding commenting on it. “Is that a point of contention between you and Bruce?”
“Not really, at least not that he allows it to be. But like I said, he’s not good with the emotions. Its just, sometimes I can see regret so plainly written on his face when I’m talking to Dami. It’s hard to miss sometimes.”
“And that makes you feel guilty.” A statement, not a question.
“Yeah…” Dick’s voice is quiet, but Jason knows him well enough now to hear the regret.
“Have you talked to Damian about it before?” Dick shook his head and looked back to Jason with a curious look. “I was just wondering what he thought of it all.”
Jason can tell Dick is mulling over the idea of asking Damian about the fact that he viewed Dick as his dad and not Bruce, but he can also see the moment when Dick rejects the idea for now. Not that Jason blames him. The kid had been intense, and he had come across as smart, so part of him probably knew. If it had been Jason in Damian’s place, he probably would have some resentment toward his actual father for basically pawning him off to his brother when it got to be too much.
“This was so not the conversation I thought we would have when I came,” Jason offered as an out of the current topic. He could see the appreciation in Dick’s smile and the slight shift of his shoulders as he relaxed.
“What did you expect?”
“Profuse apologies because your redheads had made it seem like you were pretty worried that I hated you.” Dick laughed hard, holding his middle where Jason assumed were some of the wounds that had caused this whole mess.
“They made it clear that you weren’t mad. I figured I could save the apologies for when I wasn’t laid up in the hospital.”
“Fair enough. Though,” Jason leaned forward and looked at Dick closely, “you don’t owe me any apologies. This situation isn’t anywhere near being your fault.”
“Still upset I missed our date. I had the whole thing planned.”
“Well, you can go through with that plan when you are back to full mobility. Until then, I’d be happy to accommodate to your situation.” Dick’s smile was practically blinding, and Jason squeezed his hand. The intense desire to kiss the other man hit him suddenly but not too surprisingly. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.” The words came out before he could stop them.
“I’d really like you to kiss me,” Dick responded, smile growing even brighter. And Jason wished he could figure out how he managed to be so beautiful. But he would have to try and figure that out later. For now, he just focused on releasing Dick’s hand and pressing a palm to his cheek as he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together.
And god if it didn’t feel like coming home after being gone for years.
Dick’s lips were slightly chapped from the dry, hospital air and his breath was a little stale but the whole thing was so utterly perfect that Jason could feel his chest tighten with the emotion. Keeping in mind his still healing chest, Jason ended the kiss sooner than he would have liked. Pulling back, he pressed one quick kiss to the corner of Dick’s mouth before pulling back even further to look at the other man. What he found made him want to ignore the chest wound Dick had and just dive right back in.
Dark lashes fluttering against golden cheek bones and lips parted just slightly. He hoped he never forgot this image.
“I can’t wait until this heart rate monitor won’t alert everyone to just how much you affect me,” Dick muttered, opening his eyes to reveal sapphire rings around black pupils blown wide with lust.
“Just focus on healing that chest wound. Then I’ll happily let you figure out just how much of me you can and can’t handle.”
“Deal,” Dick whispered, pushing up to press their mouths together one last time before falling back into the pillows again.
Jason chuckled and ran his fingers along Dick’s cheek bone before dropping back down into the chair he had previously been sitting in and letting his hands fall into his lap.
“So, Wally and Roy aren’t my only redhead friends and the fact that you called just the two of them a harem was so accurate I thought I had pulled my stitches from laughing so hard when they told me.” Jason looked at him for a moment before laughing loudly and shaking his head.
“Well then the name is definitely sticking around.”
“I’ll be sure to warn the others.”
And Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached for Dick’s hand again.
#dick grayson#jason todd#jaydick#fanfic#ao3#nightwing#red hood#roy harper#wally west#dick's harem of redheads#au: keep on truckin'#food truck owner jason todd#officer grayson#damian wayne#dick is damian's real dad#don't @ me#batman au#batfam
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