#but is it my fault that she's so perfect to whump?

[a-spes]

I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.

But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.

But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3

AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).

BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually

AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;

Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?

Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?

It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.

[morimementa]

Things I like about Trolls 3

Floyd reassuring Branch the actions of adults are not his fault.

The giant water slide doodle.

Bruce's weight gain isn't played for humor. In fact, Poppy still sees him as a heart throb and it's presented more as a facet of him discovering himself rather than a personal failing.

The macramé interior of Branch's old house.

Everything looks like it has The Good Textures and I want to touch it. I've been underestimating the joys of Computer Animation.

The reoccurring felt and yarn crafts make me feel very seen.

Bridget and Gristle don't have to be conventionally cute to be main characters.

On that note, they're so sappy and cuddly they remind me of me and my boyfriend.

Bridget and Gristle being barely annoyed that their wedding is interrupted for a completely unrelated issue.

I hope Tiny's coffee is decaf because that child doesn't need more energy.

Floyd is my precious baby girl and I want to gently hold him and reassure him that those big rubber meanies won't hurt him anymore.

I'm sewing a Floyd plush to do exactly that.

The officiant at the royal wedding.

Poppy reassuring Branch that despite what his abandonment issues are telling him, she won't leave him.

Poppy getting a sister and it's everything she dreamed of. She deserves good things.

Floyd whump. I want ALL the fics of him being comforted!

Poppy being all protective of Branch. We love protective girl friends in this house.

The Trolls fighting with toys like finger traps and sticky hands.

There's glitter everywhere, even in the toilet water.

Don't sue me, but I like Crimp. She's just a little creacher.

I bet the reason Vacay is so popular is because being able to bathe in Orbeez sounds like sensory paradise.

Bruce's kids are very realistic kids.

Everything in this movie looks like a fun toy and it makes me happy. I know this is probably to peddle products but I still like it.

Mount Rageous's aesthetic balances between rubber hose Betty Spaghetti people and everything being made of faceted crystal which I didn't realize would work so well.

No one thought about the fact that the authorities would be able to get Floyd to safety easily and then they could do the perfect family harmony on their own time to break the bottle. But then we wouldn't have a movie.

Rhonda.

[syncopein3d]

The Warm One Part 2: Stay

Part 1

CW/relevant tropes (I'm a bit new to this format, so let me know if I miss any): living weapon, lady whump, magic whump, traumatic restraints, implied past injury, off-screen whumper, servant caretaker, other species caretaker (Orc), brief mention of pedestrian nudity.

"Tonight the Master of Sorceries comes to take me to supper with Their Divine Majesties, may they live forever," the weapon says. She sits at the vanity in a silver brocade gown as her thin brown hair is aggressively twisted and pinned in an elaborate arrangement of little curls and loops. The maid isn't cruel on purpose. She is afraid, in a hurry to be gone. Another paints the weapon's face dead white to cover her dark, baggy eyes as she looks up into the mirror's reflection.

"Yes, Milady," says the Orc there. He stands with his hands at his sides, watching.

"The Master likes them to see how much control he has before the campaign begins. So I may be late. You can go to bed if you get tired. Yours is behind the curtain."

"Yes, Milady." They haven't put him into corsets, thank goodness, so she can still see his belly hanging over his belt in his velvet tunic. He towers over the maids, looking awkward with his black hair hair newly cut short. The eyes that regard her curiously are yellow and slit-pupiled sideways, like a frog. He is sort of an olive color, also like a frog. The weapon likes that.

"They'll bring you food, as much as you want. Is there anyone you need to tell?"

"No, Milady. My parents are with the gods. My daughter is in the army."

"Her mother?" the weapon asks.

"She was at the delaying action at Kalthanos," the Orc says. "Some ten years now." The weapon nods, producing a worried cluck from the maid.

"Yes. The Master was waiting for me to recover so he could use me again. I remember. I am sorry that I caused her death."

"You didn't cause her death," the Orc says. "A Kalthan archer did. I was there. That's why I was carrying wood. I get lame if I try to run now. Can't keep up with the horses."

This is the most he has so far said in one go. Through the fog of pain and weakness the weapon looks at him with something Iike surprise. It is a new idea that something might not be her fault. He looks back without any suggestion of fear or anger or artifice, only simple curiosity. This, too, is new.

There is a knock at the door. The weapon rises, tightly bound by corsetry and pins, her gorgeous golden bracers heavy on her wrists and a golden comb heavy atop the confection of hair. She has never scarred so much that she can't feel the twin needles in her wrist veins.

The Master of Sorceries is waiting in the hallway as sunset stripes the carpets with gold. He is older than the weapon, but he looks younger. He is handsome, perfectly groomed, broad-shouldered and athletic and well-rested. His body is nearly perfect and his eyes are so very blue. The weapon looks back at her orc, huge, a little fat, the colors of a frog. And she smiles very slightly as she turns to go.

"Something amuses you?" The Master of Sorceries asks, his silken tone a warning.

"I am only pleased with your gift, Master. Thank you."

"So you will behave tonight, then?" he asks.

"Yes. I will be very well-behaved, Master."

When she returns, night has fallen. Maids hustle her inside to peel her out of her expensive garments and hang them up, smoothing them anxiously. The Orc is there poking up the fire. He turns away politely. The chemical wash to get the makeup layer burns a little as another maid works on her face.

"I don't care if you see," she says. "On campaign you will probably have to help. I'm sorry," she adds wearily.

"Don't be sorry, Milady." He turns back in time to see the shift come off over her head. The layers of stiffened fabric are meant to support more bosom than she has, oddly stuffed with rags, as if it was made for someone a little heavier. Her body is thin and wasted, every rib able to be counted. A spreading nest of scars covers the front of her body from collarbones to the thin fuzz of the pubic mound. It looks red and angry against the very pale skin, a seam and many branches. "What happened?" he asks, staring at it.

"The shift is tulle," the weapon says, absently misunderstanding the question. "It scratches." The scars vanish under a woolen robe, the maids push slippers onto her feet, and then they yank the pins out of her hair and flee, pushing the brush into her hand. She looks at it blankly, swaying as her support vanishes. What does she usually do at this point? Right. She usually falls over. Her knees are starting to buckle when suddenly, the world goes past slightly downwards and now she is surrounded by warmth. The Orc carries her over to the chair by the fire and sets her there, a little sideways. A huge hand appears around her shoulder, holding the brush. She looks at it blankly for a long moment before she nods.

"Very good, Milady." She expects him to be rougher with her hair than the maids are, but she is too limp to brace herself. So it comes as a surprise when his fingers begin carefully teasing the knots out. The weapon sits quietly, bathed in unexpected comfort, struggling to stay awake.

"What's your name?" she asks eventually, words a little slurred.

"Aldo, Milady."

"Just Aldo?"

"Just Aldo. Does Milady have a name?"

"No," she says. "I am the Wrath of the King. There was one before me. There will be another when I'm gone."

He is quiet as he works on her hair for a while. Now she can feel the bristles of the brush, but carefully, never scraping hard against her scalp.

"You've done this before," she says. Her voice is very small now. She hardly knows what she said. The pain in her wrists is constant, but this feels good. Nothing has felt good in this small, safe way in a long, long time. It washes over her in somnolent, gentle waves.

"My daughter had fine hair when she was small." For a moment his hand cups her skull and the back of her neck, gently turning her, and the wash of sheer overwhelming warmth fades the world completely away. She isn't sorry to see it go as her head grows heavy in his hand.

When next she knows anything, she is being laid down on the mattress, bare feet tucked in between cold silk sheets. She shivers, blindly groping without opening her eyes. One hand tangles in warm velvet, the hem of the Orc's tunic.

"Stay," she says. "Please. You can keep all your clothes on, just - stay."

"Yes," he says. There's no 'Milady' this time. She hears him pushing off his indoor boots and unbuckling his hard belt, and then the huge mattress indents beside her, rolling her down a small slope. His hands check her at shoulder and hip as he settles on his side. Heat begins to build under the covers immediately. The weapon presses herself weakly against the big soft belly. A heavy arm slides around her. Later she will remember that he doesn't feel stiff, tense. The muscle under the fat lies slack.

"I might make noises," she says. "Bad ones. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, Aldo."

"I'm not afraid." Now she can feel the basso rumble of his voice through his body. "You can sleep. It's all right."

"You'll be here?" she is fighting it, even though she can't open her eyes.

"I'll be here. Shhhh, shh."

She doesn't know if it's true or not, but she wants it to be badly enough to let go. The world slides away down a dark tunnel.

There will be nightmares. There always are. But this time Aldo will be there to rub her back just a little, quietly, and tell her they're not real. And for a little while it will be all right.

Part 3

[em-writes-stuff]

branding

day 9 of two weeks of whump @promptsforyourwhumpfic

578 words

villain, henchman

warnings: descriptions of past abuse, branding, guilt, ??

part one | part two | part three

---

Henchman tied off the trash bag with Villain’s old clothes in it and pulled it out of the trash can. She swung it over her shoulder and went outside to toss it in the dumpster. Taking a deep breath of the cold winter air, she collected herself. All the grief she’d been holding in since Villain’s funeral was somehow more now that he wasn’t dead. 

She’s going to lose him all over again and it hurts even more because where was he these past three months? Three months where he was being hurt? Three months she could’ve been looking for him, but didn’t. All because she wanted to believe he was dead? Because anything other than that meant he was alone, scared and hurting? 

It wasn’t an excuse. 

She cleared her throat and shook her head, then continued on with tossing the trash bag into the dumpster. The lid slammed shut, pushing out a whiff of foul-smelling trash air right into Henchman's face. She coughed and pulled away from the dumpster. 

Locking the door, she stared down the hallway at Villain’s closed door and noticed the light shining from under the door. Her head tilted and she walked down the hallway before tentatively knocking on the door, “Villain? Can I come in?” 

Stuff shuffled on the other side of the door and he opened it for her, eyes red with tears. “Yeah?” 

“Nothing, I just figured you’d be sleeping, I wanted to check on you.” 

He scratched the side of his head and slumped against the wall, “I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah. I’m here, so better than I’ve been in a while.” 

“Do you…want to talk about it?” She offered. 

He exhaled heavily and nodded, but didn’t say anything. He traced the seam along his sweatpants and looked at the ground. “You know that old train station? The one that legally isn’t operational because of the mold? Yeah, well. Turns out it’s not blocked off.” 

“The one two blocks from here?” she said. Two blocks? How was he only two blocks away from her this whole time? 

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Hero has access to it, because of course he does. Well, the station has a jail-type room. And Hero made it into the perfect place for me. I had a radio and…nothing else. But it was fine, because I knew what was happening up here. And I always knew what day it was. And that was enough for me.” 

He stopped and slid down the wall, his knees folded against his chest. Henchman did the same, her eyes locked on the folds of his clothes-there was a lot more loose fabric than before. He’d lost so much of his size.

“I got out once. But barely made it out of my room before he caught me. That’s when he did this-” Villain pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough for Henchman to see bubbled skin in the shape of Hero’s sigil- “Yeah, he wasn’t playing around.” 

Henchman’s eyes locked on the brand, even after he let go of the waistband, letting the fabric cover it once again. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “This is all-all my fault. I should’ve known it wasn’t you. I should’ve-”

“Stop,” Villain interrupted. “How could you have known? There was a body, and I was the only person there. You couldn’t have known.” 

“But-” 

“No.” 

She tore her eyes away from the brand and looked at him, “Ok.” 

[goneahead]

so **shuffles feet** @cowandcalf and @stephmcx tagged me way back when Tarquinus was still king. In my defense, it was summer and I was summering. (estivation really should be a hobby. just saying)

Five fic recs of my own personal fics (under the cut ‘cuz I got long-winded)

note 1: All of my fic is on Dreamwidth, some of it has been cross-posted to A03.

Click for lists-> Masterpost of A03 fics Masterpost of all my fic

note 2: My dreamwidth account is friend-locked, but you can drop me a DM if you need an invite.

note 3: fic titles are clickable links. The USDA recommends consuming a minimum three fanfics a day in order to stay properly hydrated.

O-Ate-Four

Addams Family and Avengers 530 words

pairing: none, gen

Why I wrote It: Because my muse is a seductive temptress. And also because I’m convinced the Addams family has to exist in the same world where **checks notes** people fight aliens with pointy sticks.

Why you should read it: Natasha, Wednesday, French cemetery. Come on, what else do you need for a perfect Halloween fic?

Talking about pointy sticks, I may have written an entire fic where Hawkeye renovates a cabin. My ability to write truly riveting plots is… questionable😜

Operation: Cupcakes 1,427 words

pairing: Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams but gen

Why I wrote it: Because the only thing better than writing about cupcakes is writing about red velvet cupcakes. No really, thats the plot. Did I mention my riveting plots?😆

Why you should read it: Because there is a serious dearth of McDanno baking fics. And because there are red velvet cupcakes.

Beam Me Up, Danno

Hawaii Five-0 42,995 (including sequel)

Why I wrote it: Either this was a whumptober fic that got out of hand—or my muse tied me up and threatened to put a Ceti eel in my ear if I didn’t write it. Take your pick.

Why you should read it: Because the world needs a Hawaii Five-0 Star Trek AU? Also, there is Cardassian poetry, diplomatic javelining, and aliens that love butter pecan ice cream.

Yes, this is my second ‘Hawaii Five-0 in space’ AU, and I’m totally done writing about aliens. **hides my Hawaii Five-0 MIB wip behind my back**

Care and Feeding of a Super Seal

Hawaii Five-0 59,934 words

pairing: Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams

Why I wrote it: This is my coda for the Hawaii Five 0 finale and all @cowandcalf’s fault. My muse agreed with all her points in this meta she wrote and… stuff happened. Also, I was obsessing thinking in a very normal fashion about how the ohana deserved better, too.

Why you should read it: I did my best to explain the ending, various plot holes the size of an spider crab, and a few other things that have bugged fans over the years. There’s also Steve!whump, some badass!Danny, and a generous sprinkling of ohana. Most importantly, the boys talk about diving, and get their happy ever after.

Beasts and Outlaws note: this fic is only on dreamwidth

Supernatural 145, 622 words

pairing: Dean Winchester/OMC

Why I wrote it: I’ve always wanted a paranormal fic that felt like it was set in the southwest, so I decided to write one cleverly disguised as a Supernatural AU.

Why you should read it: Where else are you going to get a fic with nagueles, rain gods, and the FBI? Also, Old Man Coyote makes a random appearance and Dean’s in love with a were-cougar.

And yes, I wrote a Hawaii Five-0 AU where I turned Chin into a were-leopard but its totally not the same thing😂

tagging: @itwoodbeprefect @simplyn2deep and @herveiwfromthefloor

[allthemurders]

i found your sarah barnaby whump posts and I'm desperate for more do u have any more ideas or thoughts ahdjsj

HELLO HI I AM ALWAYS DOWN TO TALK ABOUT SARAH BARNABY WHUMP!! i have So Many thoughts and ideas hehehehehe

ngl it’s been A While since i last watched midsomer tho, so my memories of it are all a bit hazy and i’ve probably misremembered some plot points / timings / etc. this is also why some of these ideas are Extremely Vague hgkfjdjfhf

(i’m gonna put it all under the cut bc the post got fairly long, wHoOpS)

ep-specific whump:

s19 ep5 - death by persuasion : the aim is a little off with the warning shot during the ball, and sarah gets hit. or she gets hit by a mirror shard. either way, she’s in a regency era ball gown and she is bleeding out while john frantically tries to help her. (this naturally gives her ideas for her book, much to john’s concern)

s20 ep2 - death of the small coppers : i was So sure sarah was gonna end up getting caught helping birgitte with her investigation and that some sort of whump would play out with that. i have no real thoughts of what or how or why exactly, but i Need it. possibly could have birgitte & sarah being caught snooping and subsequently getting whumped together??? helping each other stay strong throughout it, then working out an escape plan and getting themselves out before john & jamie can even attempt to rescue them??? also unrelated but sarah should’ve been there for the jamie whump scene at the end i stg

s21 ep2 - the miniature murders : THE MURDERER WAS LITERALLY IN JOHN & SARAH’S HOUSE WITH SARAH & BETTY. WHY DID NOTHING HAPPEN WITH THIS?????? MIDSOMER WRITERS HATE ME I STG 😭😭 anyways what if john & jamie rush in, john telling sarah to take betty to play in her room, but sarah doesn’t get the opportunity to leave?? the murderer grabs her in a panic and pulls a knife (or possibly a dangerous improvised weapon of some kind, i’m hazy on the details of this ep) and takes her hostage. jamie hurries betty upstairs on john’s orders, trying his best to console her and answer her questions while also massively worrying about his adoptive mum sarah. john is left to talk the murderer down on his own

s22 ep5 - for death prepare : things go massively wrong when sarah is on stage. i’m talking “murderer walks on stage in full costume with an actual extremely lethal sword or a period-accurate gun” kind of massively wrong. “the last guy he wants to kill is also on stage” kind of massively wrong. “sarah just gets in the way of his revenge and ends up with a severe wound” kind of massively wrong. (john and jamie get there in time to see it happen but too late to actually stop it. they both blame themselves for not getting there sooner)

s23 ep1 - the blacktrees prophecy : so many vague and depressing thoughts about sarah having a Bad Childhood™ with far too much pressure on her to always be perfect, because nothing was ever good enough for her mum no matter how hard she tried. (*literally looks so upset by the thought of her mum coming to stay that john thinks she’s straight up died* / “oh, i’m just touching up a few patches [of paint on the walls]. you know how my mother likes to point out every little imperfection” / “the house is, er… looking lovely” “well, i’m sure she’ll find fault somewhere”). HER SCENES IN THIS EP PHYSICALLY HURT ME HONESTLY. SHE IS SO STRESSED AND TENSE,,,,,,,,, and then basically as soon as she finds out her mum’s going to her sister’s instead you can See this massive weight has been lifted off her. like ik there’s a couple hours between her finding out and the actual scene at the end, bUT STILL. IT’S LIKE FLICKING A SWITCH???? SHE’S SUDDENLY HAPPY AND JOKING WITH JOHN AGAIN??????? sorry this was basically just me repeating canon but i have too many Feelings about it 😭😭

s23 ep3 - a grain of truth : look honestly i don’t really remember anything about this ep other than that sarah was at the place where a murder happened or smth and iirc exactly zero whump came out of this. some whump should’ve come out of this. also weren’t ppl being poisoned with ergot or smth?? why was sarah not poisoned with ergot??

non-ep whump:

john gets a call from betty’s school saying that it’s getting pretty late, will he or sarah be picking her up soon? and he’s a little confused, because it’s meant to be sarah’s day to do the school pickup and it’s not like her to forget, but he figures she must’ve been waylaid by something. he calls her, but it just goes to voicemail. he calls again; still nothing. he’s concerned now, wondering why she isn’t answering, but he knows she sometimes gets stuck in unplanned meetings for ages, so it’s like a low-level concern as he leaves work early to pick betty up. his worry absolutely skyrockets when he finds the front door kicked in, the living room trashed, and the house empty despite sarah’s car being parked up outside. a ransom note and proof of life photos arrive the following morning

john & sarah are held captive together for some reason. john’s being Extremely Annoying in order to get the captors to keep their focus on him, because he’s willing to take all the consequences of their anger if it keeps sarah out of harm’s way. one of the captors eventually hurts sarah to try and keep him in line, and he just goes absolutely feral

sarah should get to watch someone being killed. as a treat (..ok probably not for her, but it would be for me ✌️😎)

tbh most of the rest of my misc ideas are just various other forms of “sarah gets Beaten Up!!” or “sarah gets held hostage to get john to cooperate!!” s o o o yea that is basically all i can think of atm 👀

tysm for the ask, and i really really hope you enjoyed this whump as much as i enjoyed thinking about it!! ✨✨✨

[adzeisval]

The Perfect Plan

A little emotional whump fic if any is interested.

The plan was perfect. Or at least as close to perfect as a plan to attack an enemy base could be. Drop off locations, extraction points, redundancies in case someone should fall in the ensuing battle. 

All the little details meticulously put into place on the board before the team and gone over in excruciating detail. Which is why Cora was certain that having only eleven extraction locations for a twelve person team was no mistake. 

Cora didn’t blame them, she wasn’t an easy person to get along with and she had spent far longer as an enemy soldier than a friend. Then with the death of a team member only a month ago which had partly been her fault it was no wonder they wanted her dead. Too kind to do it themselves but the desire was clear. 

It probably didn’t matter in the long run; they were going to be outnumbered, things were going to go wrong no matter how well things were planned, and there was a good chance that she would die anyway. That all of them would. 

Still it hurt. She understood, but it hurt. She’d tried her best but it wasn’t enough and once the mission was over they were done with her. There wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on it though, the attack was the next morning. 

Cora stepped off the landing craft with her weapons in hand and mission in mind. 

Against all odds she survived, against all odds it seemed to be going well. Everyone else was likely already being picked up or heading to their extraction points. Cora knew there was a spot outside of the base, high on the hill where she would be able to see if both transports made it and headed toward it. 

The first transport flew by and Cora was glad that some of her friends were alright, she hoped they were all safe on board. 

Cora heard yelling from below on the hill, the enemy was tracking her and when they found her she was sure they would kill her. She might be able to take a couple down with her. She would try to do so. 

No matter what though she couldn’t allow herself to be taken alive. 

The voices were getting closer. Cora heard the second transport, it would probably fly over her before the enemy got her. 

The transport came into view and…it was landing. At first Cora couldn’t move but when the doors of the transport opened she ran. 

The doors shut behind her and they took off as she strapped in. Everyone who was supposed to be there was.

The pilot’s voice came over the headset, “We got everyone! No major injuries!” 

Everyone was cheering on the way out of the transports onto the main ship. Hugging and laughing. The med team took the few injured away to treat their minor wounds. Cora felt numb, and then felt like she might start sobbing. She needed to get away and no one was paying attention to her anyway. 

“Well done Cora, I knew you could do it,” the Captain said. 

Cora tried to say something but the only thing that came out was a broken sob. Once the first one was out she couldn’t stop and she sank to the floor shaking and sobbing. 

The team gathered around her asking her what was wrong, asked her was she wounded, and asked what she needed. 

“I thought…you were done…with me,” she managed, “The…plan.” 

“Oh, oh shit,” Tia said, “I put up the wrong version in training, the unfinished file it didn’t have Cora’s extraction point because it was the last we figured out.” 

Captain knelt right before her, “I would never abandon anyone on my team, and more than that you’re a part of our family now Cora, have been for a long time.” 

“Not that long,” she said miserably. 

“Long enough,” Captain said, “Come on, let’s all get cleaned up and celebrate and help Cora work through this, yes?” 

The team helped Cora to her feet and for the first time in a long time she thought things might be alright.

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

⭐star⭐

For your whumptober fills in general- how did you go about planning what to write for the month? Did you have certain goals for word count?

Then more specifically- anything you can share about ‘i say I don’t care, I say that im fine’?

Thank you friend!

So whenever the prompts dropped the end of August, I filed them all into a google doc and just wrote notes of ideas for each. Some ideas I already had, like Jamie hiding in injury when Zava was there so he didn't lose more ground and then saw the "suppressed suffering" and thought, perfect! I just went through each day, jotting down quick ideas that came from the prompts.

Some came easier than others, like swooning, okay concussion, and thermometer would be a sick fic. I made a google sheet with each day once I decided on the general idea. I tried to vary the actual injuries/whump. Some prompts I thought I would use and didn't, like broken, I thought, oh easy, broken bone, but I don't think I even used it even though it probably would have worked for a lot. Someone asked for some Roy whump, so I tried to include him in it.

My original idea was to do a single story for 31 days. I had no goal for word count. My problem is I am unable to tell a short story a lot. I can't keep my thoughts clear and concise when an event like an injury happens. I tend to want to go on longer with recovery, etc. So I ran out of steam trying to write 31 entries. I wrote wherever the plot bunnies took me originally, and as I got closer, I realized I needed to buckle down because I wanted to post these in order. So, I had to adjust some into multi-chapter stories and move around certain things.

Thank you for asking about, i say i don't care, i say that I'm fine, because it is one of my favorites.

it wasn't one I really had the thought of until the day of, actually. The prompts for the day were "recording", "made to watch", and "it should've been me". None of those I really vibed with, so I was planning to use one of the alternate ones in it's place. But then I was inspired by The Good Place storyline with Eleanor's Mom, how she struggles with thinking if her Mom could change this whole time, why was she not the one she changed for? And suddenly, it should've been me, made sense.

I struggled with a reason why James suddenly was sober over a year after last seeing his son. So this seemed as good a reason as any, and wanted to explore more with Jamie of his relationship with his father because I am of the strong belief that sober does not equal a good person. So I wanted to have Jamie not only find out someone else is the reason he's sober, but James still not truly changed. And then, of course, Jamie feels guilty about being jealous of someone he's never meant but also genuinely fearful for the child.

I am also obsessed with the notion of Jamie taking people's advice, but it's like a game of telephone where it's just slightly distorted. As fucked as Ted's advice to Jamie was in Mom City, I do think he meant Jamie should forgive his father for his own benefit (Ted having never forgiven his own father, etc.). Jamie wants to be accountable like Keeley told him to, but he never expects anyone to be accountable to him. And he takes accountability for things that really aren't his fault (being hacked). And I also think Higgins' advice is swirling around in that pretty head of his as well to forgive his father for who he isn't. So he's gotten all this advice meant to make him a better man, and he's trying, he's really trying, and all the advice is in a blender together and Jamie's drinking it down, combined in ways it wasn't intended. And also, Jamie forgets how he deserves to be treated, or thinks he doesn't deserve to be treated well.

I was also listening to a lot of Olivia Rodrigo's album, specifically The Grudge, where I got the title from, and it's just perfect for Jamie and his Dad. Some lyrics:

"It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong."

"I fantasize about a time you were a little fucking sorry."

"I know in my heart, hurt people hurt people, and we both drew blood but man those cuts were never equal."

"How could anybody do the things you did so easily?"

"You know I can't let it go; I've tried, I've tried, I've tried."

"You built me up to watch me fall"

"I try to be tough, I try to be mean, But even after all this, you're still everything to me"

"And I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did."

"I hear your voice every time I think I'm not enough."

[withdrawingramen]

liar (angstpril)

CW: emotional whump eg. whumpee being disowned by family, some really firm religious beliefs used to manipulate & gaslight whumpee, reference to whumpee almost attempting involuntary manslaughter under influence of demon (refer to my pinned post.), non human whumpee not very proud of the writing & language in this one but wanted to get in an entry regardless. enjoy! - Sihyeon's aunt sat across her, the rock-hard glass separating them both. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying her heart out. Her mother had left her with the deed of disownment an hour ago, and the truth of it hadn't hit her yet. Both of them sat in silence for a while. "She's in a coma right now. It's been a week."

The woman beyond the glass uttered. Sihyeon rubbed her eyes and looked up. "How...is she doing?" she asked her aunt, voice breaking. "Not completely responsive as of now. All because of you." Sihyeon remained silent. Despite her multiple attempts to explain to the officials that there was some mysterious voice in her head that took over her entire senses, there would be no leniency for attempted murder. "But the tests proved I'm innocent-" "You're not innocent." Her aunt hissed, fingers curling into a fist. "How dare you even think of letting yourself be consumed by some unholy force? Did you pay no heed to your parents' values?" "Th-That's not my fault!" Sihyeon exclaimed, but her aunt's contorted expression told her that maybe she had to be more careful with her words, given that nobody was on her side right now.. "If this glass didn't set us apart, I'd come right there and rip your mouth off!" Her aunt abruptly stood up, slamming her hands on the desk. Sihyeon flinched, retracting her arms to herself. She stared at the woman with teary eyes. "Why won't any of you believe me?!" She screamed back in response, tears running down her cheeks. "Believe you?" Her aunt scoffed. "You've probably lied to all your family for your whole life, no?" "Who'd believe a demon like you? You sinned in your previous life and uptil now. This is why you're here. This is why the family is now cursed." The woman spat at her. Sihyeon only stared back in disbelief. How could this be happening to her? How could her perfect life come to this? This wasn't right. Only a week before she'd been preparing to enter one of the most prestigious universities. So how'd it come to this? Sihyeon was all alone. "I bet you knew you were a demon all along. You just wanted us to suffer for your sins, didn't you?" "That's not true! I was completely normal-" "What normal person would try to murder their own blood?!" Her aunt retorted, her face fuming. Sihyeon tried to find the right words to reply, but there was a huge lump in her throat which she couldn't swallow. "You hated my Mia with all your heart, didn't you? You lied every time you said you were happy for her. You lied every single time you told the officials it was an accident. You wanted to kill her, didn't you?!" The woman beyond the glass nodded in a mixture of exasperation and anger. "I know you're a liar. I should have known the moment you started showing an attitude to everyone when you were growing up." Sihyeon's heart kept racing. "You've only caused trouble and pain to your entire family. You've disgraced your parents for giving you the best life possible by repaying them in this way?!" Her aunt huffed, glaring at her. "My girl is on death's bed because of you, you monster!" Her aunt wailed, eyes glassy. Tears were overflowing from Sihyeon now. Her aunt would be the last visitor before she'd be shipped off to a facility. Then no familiar face would ever cross her path again for years at a stretch. "Please don't leave me too." She choked out. "The only thing that's left is to rebuild our lives without you." Her aunt began to pack her things, sniffling, rushing out the door of the dull room before Sihyeon could utter a single word, leaving the poor girl in shambles.

[iwhumpyou]

BTHB: All The Other Reindeer

Rose is requested, Origami Rose is filled.  As a reminder, anyone can request any square, any OC, any universe!

@whumps-the-word​ This one was a bit tricky, which is why it took so long - I tried to get the sense of ‘otherness’ that the trope implied, but I don’t know if it worked.

(Taglist: @smileevenwhenyoudontfeellikeit​ for Raider!verse.)

This takes place after the events of the Good Cop/Bad Cop request fill (poor, poor Riya, never getting a moment to rest).

Masterlist.  Raider.

~#~#~#~#~#~

The first thing Riya noticed was that the flowers on the ceiling weren’t moving.  They drooped in place, withered and brown and the whole field looked dead. 

She wondered how Killian knew what Lee’s bedroom looked like, but suppressed the thought immediately. His illusions were still pathetic, a pale imitation of reality.

She was surprised to see that the chains had been removed, though the illusion wouldn’t have lasted a second with them.  She was just…disconcerted by the thought that Killian seriously believed that she would be so off-kilter by this latest illusion that she would stay in place.

She needed to get out before she found whatever creepy surprises he’d left for her.

She slowly pushed herself upright, unwilling to look around the room and find out how many details he’d gotten wrong – or right.  It was slow going.  The cuts had been bandaged, but her muscles were jittery and she was tired, like she hadn’t slept in days.

The door was open, and she hobbled out as silently as she could manage, grasping walls and furniture to stay upright.  It certainly looked like Lee’s apartment, but Riya wasn’t checking too closely.  Every familiar item sent a jolt of hope through her – hope she could ill-afford.

The apartment was silent and no one attempted to bar her way.  She grabbed a cane from the side table to help her unsteady balance.  The front door was where it was supposed to be and Riya hesitated, her fingers hovering over the doorknob.

It could be a trick. Killian could be on the other side of the door, laughing at her for falling for it.  Crushing her brief, desperate hope into pieces to break her.

She swallowed and turned the knob.  It opened out into stairs, and Riya followed them down and out, emerging out into the open air.

She didn’t dare look back.  She needed to get as far from here as possible.

Killian’s illusions didn’t affect the mind, only the surroundings.  And he didn’t have the power to affect a change on this level – the coarse brick under her fingers was real, the rain pouring from the skies was real, the uneven pavement under her stuttering footsteps was real as she kept walking.

She stifled a gasp as someone roughly shouldered past her, the movement flaring the aches of bruises and cuts, and she half-collapsed against a building, panting heavily.  The skies were dark and grey and the light was fading fast.  She didn’t know where she was – she couldn’t recognize the buildings around her, and they all had a run-down look.  There were only a few people on the streets. 

She hurt.  She hurt everywhere – her muscles ached, cramping and sore, and every time she closed her eyes she could see Killian in front of her, electric baton in his hand, smiling as she writhed and choked and screamed.

She didn’t know where to go. She slumped further against the wall, tilting her head, and the warm drops spilling down her cheeks mingled with the rain.

She couldn’t go back to headquarters.  All her friends and allies had been raiders, and she hadn’t told a soul that she’d shifted her support.  The Council wanted her gone and her family wanted her dead.  Killian was probably already searching for her, his power base growing by the day.

She couldn’t go back to Lee, couldn’t beg the Witch Chief to keep her safe.  Lee had other problems to deal with, had a month of confusion and chaos to sort out, had alliances to rebuild and reassure after her brief stint of being powerless.  Ekaterina hated her, and Tanner had the vampires to lead. 

No.  Going back would put targets on their heads, and while Lee and Tanner could take care of themselves, it would undoubtedly make their lives more difficult.  She couldn’t do that to them.

She knew the consequences when she had sent the letter.  She knew them and accepted them.  Riya breathed out slowly and struggled upright.

The rain seemed to weight her limbs, dragging her down even further as she limped forward.  The cane helped immensely, but what she really needed was a knife.

She had nowhere to go and no one to turn to.  At the very least, she could end it with her own hands.

It would keep her out of Killian’s hands forever.  He could be inventive, when he wanted to be, and Riya knew she wasn’t far from breaking.

She lifted her head, staring at the darkness above her as raindrops skittered across her face.  She had never been a fan of the rain – the cold, the damp, the mud.  But it was fitting now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and deliberately didn’t think of who she was apologizing to.

She tilted her head back down and shuffled forward, one hand pressed against the wall as her legs grew weaker with every step.  She didn’t know where she could get a knife – but a broken bottle might do just as well, she realized, stopping at the mouth of an alleyway.  There was sure to be some in there.

She had barely taken a step inside when a figure called out, “Are you okay?”  She ignored them – even exhausted and trembling, she was still stronger than a human and she didn’t care to be stopped – but then a crack of lightning flashed across the sky. 

And off red eyes.

Shit.  She took a half-second to be thankful that it wasn’t Tanner as the vampire approached. She was holding an umbrella and staring at her in bewilderment.

And then Riya’s sluggish thought processes remembered that nearly every supernatural creature in this city wanted her dead and she stumbled a step back.  She couldn’t fight off a vampire.

“No, I’m not going to hurt you!” the vampire said, holding out her hands and approaching more cautiously, “Are you hurt?  Can I help?”

Riya wanted to laugh at that.  “No,” she said roughly.  Unless they could restore her to the Council, give her back her job, and end Killian, nothing would help.

“You need to get out of the rain,” the vampire said, coming closer.  Riya took another step back, and hit the brick wall.  “You’re soaking wet.  Aren’t you cold?”

No.  She was numb.  She’d been cold since she got trapped underneath a fallen warehouse and realized that no one would care if she died there.

“I can help,” the vampire said, even closer, extending the umbrella to cover them both, “I know somewhere where we can get out of the cold.  They’ll help you, I promise.”

Riya weighed her options as exhaustion creeped ever closer – on one hand, she couldn’t fight the vampire off, even well-meaning as she was.  On the other hand, looking wet and bedraggled was a pretty thin disguise.  All it would take is one person to call Killian and she would end up right back where she left.

The choice was taken out of her hands as the vampire slowly reached out and gently grasped her wrist. “Come on,” she said, low and soothing, like she was talking to a stray animal, “Let’s get out of the rain.”

Riya let the vampire lead her through the streets, holding her up whenever she faltered.  All she needed was one opportunity to break away.

But she was so tired.  The vampire’s grip and the cane were the only things keeping her upright.  If she tried to struggle free, she’d end up in a heap on the ground.

The vampire led her to what looked like an abandoned warehouse and Riya abruptly realized where they were, panic spiking.  This was Sherwood.  Raiders didn’t patrol here.  The Witch Chief didn’t police here.  This was the haven of outlaws and mercenaries, a no man’s land where all manner of supernatural creatures mingled.

They wouldn’t call Killian if they recognized her.  No, they would sell her to the highest bidder.

Riya couldn’t break free of the vampire’s grasp before they passed through the doors – it certainly didn’t look abandoned now; it was an explosion of light and warmth and color, at sharp contrasts to the wet misery outside.

She tilted her head and let her wet hair swing forward to partially cover her face.  She didn’t have a better disguise.

“Here,” the vampire smiled and unearthed a blanket from somewhere, and Riya used it to hide her face further, “I’ll see if I can find some hot food for you!”  She pushed Riya onto an empty stool before disappearing into the crowd. 

It was…not what she was expecting.  Instead of drugs and alcohol and all manner of taboos being broken, it was warmth and food and community.  All forms of the supernatural mingled and talked and laughed.  It was nothing like what the Council had painted it as, nothing like the warnings they’d been given and the rumors that spread.

There was a bitter feeling in her stomach.  The Council had been wrong to deny the rights of the different subsets of the supernatural – she knew that.  But they were still – they – their knowledge –

Were they wrong about everything?

“Here, I brought you some food!” the vampire returned with a tray, and leading – that was a familiar face and one Riya was not prepared for.

Freya smiled at her and Riya huddled further in the blanket and didn’t meet the ex-raider’s eyes.  “Are you human?” the vampire asked, “Or something else?”

“Something else,” Riya said roughly.

“And what flavor of something else, darling?” Freya said, amused, stepping closer.

Riya could pinpoint the exact moment she realized.  Her face shuttered for a long moment, before amusement of a different kind crept over.

“Well, well, well,” Freya said, a dark edge in her tone.  She reached up – and Riya instinctively flinched back – to yank the blanket off.  “Look what the cat dragged in.”

The vampire was staring at her in confusion, but Freya’s words had caught the attention of the nearest people and Riya could see recognition begin to dawn on their faces.

She swallowed, frozen to the spot.  There was nowhere to run.  And even if there was, she couldn’t run.

“Dearest friends,” Freya said, louder this time, and the murmurs of conversations died out, “How honored are we.  The head raider herself has come to visit our humble abode!”

Riya set her jaw in that moment of shocked silence, and met Freya’s hateful gaze as a low hiss began to spread.

“I am impressed,” Freya said, slowly clapping her hands, “I never thought you spineless cowards would ever dare to venture here.”  Behind her, the vampire who’d found her was looking at her with a mixture of fear, fury, and betrayal.

Riya hadn’t asked for this either.

“I’m not the head raider,” Riya said, wincing when her voice came out hoarse and weak, instead of strong and confident.  She met Freya’s gaze and did not waver.  She hadn’t faltered in front of Killian, and she wouldn’t here.

“You’re not?” Freya looked at her with fake concern, “Oh, dear, did they demote you?  Is that why you’re here?  Looking to get some glory to claw your old position back?”

Riya shivered under the weight of a hundred furious glares.

“I’m not a raider anymore,” she managed – she hadn’t been to the official excommunication, but it was pretty obvious to infer, especially after four hired thugs had tracked her down and beaten her into the ground.

Freya laughed at that, long and hard.  “You actually expect me to believe that?” she asked, incredulous, “You’re such a stickler for the rules that I wouldn’t be surprised if the Council handbook was permanently lodged up your ass.” Freya stalked closer and closer, until Riya had no choice but to get off the stool and force herself upright, facing the angry ex-raider.  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

“I told you –” Riya started.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Freya snarled, cutting her off.  She shifted forward and all Riya saw was a hand coming forward, an electric baton crackling, ready to send current surging through muscles that were spasming in aftershocks, as her body locked up in cramps and –

And the world was tilting around her and she was on the floor and her head hurt and there were faces all around her, peering down at her, and she was surrounded by enemies and nowhere was safe and –

And it was getting more and more difficult to breathe and her gasps were desperate and futile as the world began going dark.

~#~

Exhaustion.

[gumnut-logic]

The Ostrich

I wrote fluff! I resisted the whump and fluffed instead. Not my best, but a fun little scene, at least, I hope.

Sparked by this post. So @flyboytracy​ ‘s inspiring fault again along with  @edutainer2022​ whose commentary is, as always, amazing.

Many, many, many, many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​  for all her help yanking my brain out of its spiral. Couldn’t have written it without you. ::hugs tight::

Don’t expect much, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

It became habit.

A Virgil instigated habit.

The second eldest had never been tall. Scott always had and if Scott was honest with himself, he used to forget to slow down.

It started in the playground. Scott ran off one day all excited to show Virgil something, thinking his little brother was behind him. So, it was with surprise he turned around to find Virgil nowhere to be found.

Also, it was minor heart attack inducing.

Mom was around somewhere, so Virgil was likely with her, but she was occupied with Johnny, and Dad had impressed on Scott that Mom needed help and Virgil was Scott’s responsibility.

And he was nowhere to be seen.

It was only moments and Virgil was found as soon as Scott back-tracked, but it gave him enough of a scare to remember that his little brother couldn’t always keep up.

And age didn’t change that fact.

As Gordon and Alan appeared he found himself with a whole flock of brothers who, in general, could not keep up. Scott was fast, both in thought and leg length, and he always found himself having to slow down.

It was a relief to go for a walk with Dad, just so he could hit his stride.

Not that he wouldn’t do absolutely anything for his brothers.

He just wanted the freedom to move.

John eventually caught up with him, long, lanky and as determined as Scott in his own way.

But Virgil never did.

He knew his brother tried to compensate for some of it with his strength. Virgil could dead lift the lot of them if he wanted to, far stronger than Scott would ever be. And he was proud of his brother’s achievements. All of his brothers’ achievements.

But long legs was something Virgil would never have.

So, like the Thunderbirds they flew, Virgil was always behind him somewhere.

Unless he slowed down.

It became habit to check his stride, decelerate his ‘bird, step into a calmer pace to stay with his brother.

Scott didn’t mind. In fact, he hardly thought about it anymore. It was just the way of things.

But not now.

Here he could stretch out his legs and run as fast as he wanted. His morning run was time for just him. Time to be himself without the labels, without the expectations, without the need to adapt to others.

He ran the same path every morning. On purpose. He knew every bush, every tree, every obstacle. He knew that by the time he circled the Island the sun would be peeking over the horizon and everything would be bathed in pink and gold.

It was always a beautiful moment and a treat just for himself.

Perfection before the descent of the day.

Of course, it didn’t happen every morning. Life had plenty of interruptions up its sleeve. But he did do this as often as possible.

There was rhythm to his feet hitting the pre-dawn gravel. Power in straining muscles.

And speed.

Scott Tracy freed to the mountain.

He smirked at the idea.

This morning was no different. There were wisps of cloud in the sky and a bit of a chill in the air, usual for this time of year. Subconsciously he checked the wind direction against bare skin and calculated any differences to their usual launch protocols.

The Thunderbirds didn’t require much correction, they made their own weather, but the civilian craft they kept were a little more prone.

And besides, it was just good aeronautics.

As if in answer the breeze stiffened, tangling in his sweaty hair and wrapping warmth around his arms.

The clouds sailed on.

He put more effort into running up the next hill. Being a volcanic island, and relatively young, there were plenty of cliffs, valleys and challenges for his body. And he loved every one of them.

They proved he still had it.

Every day.

And gave him that moment to escape.

“Hey, Ostrich!”

He startled. But the voice was familiar, if unexpected.

He jogged up the last of the incline and sure enough Virgil was standing in the middle of the path.

His brother was in his uniform and for a split second, Scott worried they had a call out, But John wasn’t interrupting him, and the teasing grin on Virgil’s face had no urgency in it.

Scott jogged to a stop, panting. “What are you doing out here, Tank?”

Virgil snorted. “Just testing.”

“What? My patience.”

“Now that wouldn’t be much of a challenge, would it?”

Scott eyed his brother. It was far too early for him to be up. Left to himself, Virgil would sleep well into ten, at least, bar work or a call out. “Did you sleep last night?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. Enough to make Scott wonder if this was actually Gordon wearing a holosuit.

“I’m fine. Still staggering sleep from last Thursday.”

“Exactly. That was last Thursday. You should be sleeping better by now.”

“I’m fine.” His brother frowned at him. “Stop worrying.”

Scott bit back a retort. “You still haven’t told me why you’re out here. Or how you got here.” Let’s just say that while Virgil was known for strolling around the Island, running wasn’t usually in the equation. His tank of a brother burned all his carbs in the gym.

“As I said, testing.”

“Testing what?”

“Equipment.”

“What equipment?” All he could see was his idiot of a brother standing in the middle of the path, obstructing his morning run.

Virgil shrugged. “Are you sure you can’t see anything?”

Scott looked around. There was rock, cliff, bushes, a few trees, the sun poking through Tracy Peak. Damn, he’d missed the sunrise. He frowned. There was already heat haze forming.

“No. Any hints?”

His brother’s smirk was triumphant. He hit his comms. “Brains, the test was a success.”

Virgil’s grin split wide at the excited babble from their genius engineer.

Scott frowned. “What is going on?”

That grin softened into fondness and Virgil touched his wrist control.

Above the both of them, clinging to the cliff an elegant aircraft phased into existence.

Scott’s eyes widened. “Thunderbird Shadow! The stealth tech, you did it?”

Dark eyes shone. “Works like a dream. Flew out here, followed you around for a while, landed her. We figured that if you didn’t notice, most wouldn’t.”

Scott stared up at the black and silver craft that had been under development for months. “She’s ready?”

“Almost. Brains is just finishing up.”

“Can I take her for a spin?” Kayo was going to be so happy. But not until Scott had done his own array of testing.

Virgil arched an eyebrow at him. “Not dressed like that, you’re not. Flight suit required.”

Scott shot him a flat stare before smirking. “Race you back then.”

A snort. “No contest, Ostrich.”

“Then keep in the slow lane, Tank.” Scott darted around him and ran full bolt down into the next valley.

“Hey, don’t do anything stupid!”

Scott yelled back to him. “Sorry, can’t talk. Busy leaving you in the dust.”

He grinned at his brother’s exasperated groan.

Yes, Scott had a habit of stepping back, slowing down, and caring for his family. But there were still times where his natural speed was just what was needed.

Dust included.

-o-o-o-

[pigeonwhumps]

Abandoned

Sanctuary masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages

Eleanor becomes fed up with 785.

1.2k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, lady whump, dehumanisation, conditioning, collar, feelings of abandonment, mentions of future amnesia

"Hi. I want to enquire about returning a pet after the returns period's over? I understand that I won't get a refund, I just want to return her."

785 whimpers from her position beside the desk. Mistress shoots her a dark look but she can't help it. She's sending her back to be refurbished!

"When's your next pick-up slot? I want to get this over with." She pauses. "Yes, tomorrow afternoon would be perfect." There's another pause. "I still have her original box in the garage, so if that's acceptable for packaging..." She clicks something on her laptop. "Right. So I just email these forms to you as soon as possible? Mm-hm. And you'll send me more detailed instructions?" She pauses. "It's eleanor@ae.co.uk. And my full name's Eleanor Fitzpatrick. Mm-hm. Yes, goodbye."

As soon as Mistress has put down her phone, 785 looks up at her pleadingly, stretching out into a full bow, forehead nearly touching the carpet. "Please– please, Mistress. Please don't send– send me back. I'll be– I'll be good. I'll be whatever you like, just please– just please don't refurbish me."

785 hears Mistress's footsteps moving further away, then back. "Head up, 785."

She raises her head, and Mistress lifts it up further, swapping her luxury leather collar for one with a box on the front. The bark collar.

"You know the rules. Don't beg unless you're ordered to. And now I won't be able to hear your pretty voice before you leave, which is a pity. Now, stay there while I fill these in."

785 stays obediently where she is, kneeling under Mistress' desk, listening to her type. Stupid pet. She knows better than to talk.

After a few minutes, Mistress speaks again, distractedly this time.

"I wouldn't keep you however much you begged. You're no use anymore, 785. The views on my channel have fallen dramatically and I'm going to lose advertisers soon. You're just a drain on my finances. All that food and clothing for absolutely no returns anymore. It's not all your fault, 785, if my damn ex hadn't got rid of 065 we'd be doing fine. I'll have to rebrand. Find a better Pet." She sighs. "But no, you're not staying here."

Mistress reaches down to play absently with 785's hair and she moves into it instinctively, despite not being able to pay attention. She's– she's not good? She's not good at being cute? She's no use? But– she's been good. People are always complimenting her on how adorable and well-behaved she is, Mistress said so.

She wants to whine, to make herself feel better, but if she does she'll get an electric shock. It's her own fault for being stupid enough to think she had a voice.

"Aww. Don't cry. I'm sure you'll find a new owner." 785 swallows a sob, refusing to release any sound even as tears stream down her face. She's unwanted and she's going to be refurbished and she's never been so scared in her life.

If she's refurbished, she'll forget 065, and that's something she can hardly bear to even consider.

"It says here that you're not supposed to eat for 24 hours before the start of your pick-up window. Which was two hours ago. So no more food here, I'm afraid. I'll have to find somewhere discreet to donate the leftover Pet food to." Mistress clicks another button. "Though I'm feeling a little peckish. Make me something light, will you? Not a salad, I'm not feeling that. Oh, you know what I like, you'll think of something."

Implied in that is a threat – she will think of something, or she'll be punished for it. She gets to her feet, bows and makes her way to the kitchen.

_

That night, 785 hugs her teddy tightly, and moves Hugo the spider into a secure corner. Mistress will surely get someone in to clean after 785's gone, and she doesn't want Hugo to die. He's been a good pet, a good friend, in 065's absence.

She cradles him gently before setting him far away, where cleaners are least likely to check. She still can't talk without a shock, but she hopes he gets the message.

He can't actually understand her speech anyway. Or signs, but she signs a goodbye regardless.

785 should sleep now, she knows that. But she can't. She's too scared about tomorrow. She's not sure if she's supposed to remember training but she does, and she desperately doesn't want to go through it again.

The thought briefly crosses her mind that she could run. But she has nowhere to go and besides, she's a Pet, she was created to obey. She doesn't know how to be anything else.

She can't be anything else.

In the end she curls up tightly on her bed, hugging the bear, and cries herself to sleep with thoughts of 065. She wants to have as many of them as possible while she still can.

If she tries hard enough, she can still feel his arms around her, even though it's been months since they really were.

_

The next morning, after 785 has made her breakfast, Mistress starts the process of preparing 785 for transport. She washes her down with cold water (no warm water for a Pet who's bad enough to be sent back) and dresses her in the t-shirt and shorts she was delivered in. She puts the bark collar back on too, and 785 wonders if she's going to be transported in it.

She hopes not. Transport is hard enough without electric shocks and enforced silence.

The wooden crate from years ago is waiting in the hallway when she follows Mistress out there, and 785 shivers. She hates hates hates this.

"Hands behind your back, 785." 785 obeys, and Mistress pulls out a length of red silky rope, tying her wrists together tightly.

She knows the feel of this rope, the sight of it. She and 065 have been tied up with it too many times to count. But Mistress still has a thick piece of cloth in her hands, one side black, the other the same red as the rope.

"I read somewhere that a blindfold can help with motion sickness. Close your eyes." She does, and Mistress winds the cloth around her head, tying it tightly at the back. When 785 opens her eyes again she can't see a thing, not even any light.

"Good. Now to attach the paperwork and get you inside the box." 785 hears sellotape ripping, and the papers are pressed to her t-shirt and stuck there. "Go on. Get in."

She gets to her feet and climbs inside the box carefully, bashing her knee against the wood when she doesn't step high enough at first. She can't see or touch the box, making it hard to get in safely, and she can't avoid the splinters that cut into her feet as she scrunches herself up inside, bashing her elbows several times on the way.

"Good girl. Well, I guess this is goodbye, 785. I hope you find an owner who enjoys your particular brand of patheticness and obedience."

785 swallows down a sob as she hears the lid shut, and Mistress starts hammering the nails in. This is it, then. She's going back to be refurbished.

This is the last few days she'll be able to remember 065.

[scribeoffate]

Scott pls? 🥺👉👈

How I feel about this character

This kid goes through so much and I love it so much for me and hate it for him. It's perfect. Scott is earnest and empathetic and kind. I really feel like his interaction with Matt in fury says so much about Scott and empathy- and he is often empathetic to a fault and I love that too. He really wants to see the best in people! I find that to be Scott's most relatable trait on a personal level. (see every other ask today)

But he's also not a pushover. And he's sardonic and sassy and stubborn. And the stakes when he messes up are so much worse for him. I probably like Scott- whump and Scott- comfort in equal measure and that is rare for me.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Everyone. (No really but if it's Scott ship, I am Interest.)

Ships a I ship a little harder: Kira, Allison, Stiles, Theo, Deucalion, Peter, Derek, Malia, Violet, Boyd, Cora, Kate*

*this could go on forever I stop

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Melissa. I love Melissa and Scott's relationship. It's so far from perfect. The hospital scene? Where she tries to ground him with trembling hands? And he comforts her? Scott's utter devastation while she's crying after the failed date with Peter in s1?

I love them so much because they're both just trying.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

A conversation with Rafael about Scott being a werewolf. There is a scene where said conversation should *go* even.

Thank you for asking!

game

[inagetawaycarxo]

CPD PREFERENCE; Being Voight’s Daughter & Him Finding Out You’re Dating Someone From Intelligence.

❛❛ Love Count your blessing! inspired me to request this could I please get a cpd preference/headcanon of y/n being voights daughter and him finding out she is dating one of the team members! Maybe you could do a part 2 to Adams in this request🖤💙❤️❜❜-Anon

WARNINGS:   Crockett trying to steal y/n away from jay, kissing, fluff, angry! Hank, hank in general, whumps, hospitals, fighting, errors I missed.

A/N: Got a Chicago P.D. request? Send it in! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Kevin Atwater:

Hank opened the door to a coffee shop. Walking into the shop. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Kevin and you sitting in a booth. Holding each other’s hands. Beaming at each other.

Hank let out a grunt. Walking over to Kevin and you. Standing in front of the table Kevin and you were sitting in.

“So, when were you going to tell me?” Hank spoke. Making you jump in fright. Kevin’s eyes widen slightly before he composed himself. He knew eventually Hank was going to find out that Kevin was dating you.

“Dad,” You gasped out, craning your head to look at him. Gulping as Hank looked at you then at Kevin, face void of expression. Kevin looked more composed than you were. Kevin still held onto your hand.

“Look, Voight…” Kevin started to say only for Hank to interrupt him.

“I’m not mad that you are dating my daughter, I’m just mad the two of you hide it from me,” Hank spoke.

“I was afraid of how you were going to react, and by react, I mean threaten Kevin, or have his job, you weren’t that nice to my previous boyfriend,” You stated. Making Hank look at you for a second, raising his eyebrows, then let out a grunt.

“Do you blame me your track record of boyfriends isn’t exactly perfect,” Hank grumbled out.

“He's right, I mean the last boyfriend you had turned out to be a drug lord,” Kevin spoke. Making Hank nod his head in agreement.

“Hey, you are meant to be on my side,” You huffed out.

“I’m just telling it how it is, don’t get me started on the boyfriend before the drug lord,” Kevin spoke. Shrugging his shoulders. Making you narrow your eyes at him.

“He was a prick,” Hank grumbled out. Kevin nodded his head in agreement, while you looked at your dad then at Kevin in annoyance.

“Okay, I’m going to go get coffees, before my father and you decided to bring up more of my ex’s that you think are complete assholes,” You grumbled, getting up, rolling your eyes as you walked to the counter.

Kevin smiled at you lovingly as he watched you walk away. Hank sat down in front of Kevin.

“I like you Kevin, but if you hurt her, I will hurt you,” Hank spoke. Making Kevin look away from you to look at Hank.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kevin answered truthfully. Making Hank smile.

“Good,” Hank replied. Turning his head to look at you, feeling ecstatic that you were finally in a good relationship…

Kim Burgess:

Kim quickly grabbed your wrist before you could punch the locker door.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kim told you. Giving you a sympathetic look.

“She’s dead because I shot her, so, yeah it’s my fault,” You snapped. As tears blurred your vision.

“It was a good shot, okay, she had a gun, she didn’t listen to your orders, you had to,” Kim reassured you.

“At the end of the day, I’m the one that shot her,” You gasped out. Running your fingers through your hair. Back pressed against the locker. You slid down to the floor.

“Y/n,” Kim sighed, sitting down next to you. She wrapped her arms around you. Pulling you closer to her side.

“You did what you had to do,” She cooed.

Making you crane your head to look up at her. Tears falling from your eyes. It broke her heart.

“Don’t ever doubt yourself,” Kim spoke, as she unwrapped her right arm from you. Grabbing the side of your face. Leaning her head down to yours. Eye’s fluttering closed as her lips hovered above yours. Kim’s eyes fluttered closed as her lips touched yours. Making you let out a soft gasp.

The kiss didn’t last long, because the sound of someone clearing their throat made Kim and you pull away from each other.

Both of you looked in the direction of where the sound came from. Eyes widening in horror. Kim quickly unwrapped her arm from you. Getting up she tried to talk but Hank let out a grunt before she could even utter a single word. Making Kim’s heart pound faster. You got up slowly. Looking just as frightened as Kim looked.

“Just don’t let it interfere with your work,” He grunted. Giving Kim and you a hard glare before turning around and walking out of the room.

“Well, that went better than we thought it would, right or do you think he is going to kill me in my sleep,” She gasped out. Eyes wide with fright.

You slightly smiled at her. Walking closer to her till you stood in front of her. Cupping the side of her face. Thumbs caressing her cheeks.

“Relax Kim, it could have gone much worse, and by worse, I mean a yelling match,” You spoke. Making her slightly calm down.

“Least we don’t have to hide it from him anymore,” She spoke.

“Just the rest of the team though,” You spoke. Making her smile. She leaned her forehead against yours.

“I love you,” She beamed.

“I love you more,” You replied.

“Impossible,” she giggled.

Before you could respond, she grabbed the side of your face. Pressing a soft kiss against your lips…

Antonio Dawson:

Antonio grabbed the doorknob of your front door. Turning it open. His other hand grabbing your side. While your hands grabbed the side of his face. Pressing your body against his, as he pressed his back on the door. Opening the door. Antonio walked backwards into your apartment. One of your hands let go of the side of his face. Reaching out and closing the door.

Antonio and you pulled away from each other. Eyes still locked onto each other, as he stripped his jacket off, you did the same stripping your jacket off.

His hands grabbed the side of your face. Roughly pulling you closer to his body. His lips roughly pressing against yours. Making you let out a moan. Gripping his sides.

Antonio pushed you up against the wall, hands trailing down to your waist. Hiking you up. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist.

Antonio broke the kiss, his lips going straight to your neck. Your head tilted to the side, as a moan escaped your mouth.

“I had a feeling something was going on between Antonio and you,” Your father spoke. Making a scream came from your mouth. Antonio quickly put your feet back on the ground. Both of you looking at Hank in shock.

“Dad,” You gasped out. Feeling slightly exposed even though you still had your clothes on. The only thing you stripped off was your jumper.

“Hank,” Antonio gasped out. Standing next to you. Antonio slightly stood in front of you. Making Hank raise his eyebrow at Antonio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, one of your hands grabbed the back of his shirt for comfort.

“I think the better question is what are you doing kissing Antonio?” Hank’s voice boomed across

You gulped. While Antonio tried to play it cool. His protective side taking over.

“Because we are dating,” Antonio answered for you. Making you glare at the back of his head. Heart racing. You didn’t want them to fight in your place or fight at all. But your secret relationship with Antonio just got discovered.

“Ow, he was going to find out,” Antonio grunted as you pinched his arm. He looked over his shoulder to look at you.

“I prefer the latter, the much later,” You grunted.

“How long?” Hank asked. Making you gulp.

“For a while now,” Antonio answered, as Hank gave him a cold hard stare. Making you feel nervous.

“Look dad it wasn’t a spur of a moment or a one-night stand that led us together, it has been bubbling up for a while,” You spoke. Voice quaking with worry.

“Oh, I know, the long glances you give each other, the touches, I’m not an idiot,” Hank grunted. His eyes still locked on Antonio’s

“I love her Hank, more than anything,” Antonio spoke, staring at Hank with a genuine expression.

Hank grunted in response to what Antonio said.

“Just don’t break her heart,” Hank spoke.

“I would never,” Antonio responded.

“We will see,” Hank grumbled, turning around, and walking to your kitchen.

Antonio wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. Pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head….

Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz:

Mouse checked around the ward before stepping inside your room, he poked his head into your room, looking around your room to see if Hank was in the room.

A giggle escaped your mouth as you saw Mouse stick his head in.

“He's not here,” You spoke, voice slightly slurring from the pain meds they gave you.

Mouse slightly smiled. Stepping into the room. He closed the door, then pulled the curtain across.

“Unless he is hiding under the bed,” You joked, winking at him. Mouse grabbed a chair. Pulling it over to your side. Mouse sat on the chair. Grabbing ahold of your hand.

“How much pain meds are you on?” Mouse asked.

“Mmm, I don’t know enough that I don’t feel that searing pain in my shoulder.” You replied. Smiling lovingly at him.

“You had me worried, I thought you were going to die,” Mouse spoke. Bringing your hand up to his lips.

“Here I am still surviving,” You slurred, arching your brow at him.

Mouse tried to contain his chuckle but failed.

“Your cute,” You beamed.

“Yeah,” Mouse spoke, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“Totally,” You slurred, raising your other hand to pinch his cheek.

The sound of the door sliding opened, made Mouse drop your hand, quickly, but it was too late Hank already saw Mouse holding your hand before he pulled his hand away.

“Sargeant Voight, this isn’t what it looks like, I was just visiting y/n,” Mouse gasped out. Making Hank look at Mouse, raising his eyebrows.

“Hi Dad,” You cheerily greeted him.

“This exactly what it looks like,” You slurred.

“We’re in love,” You beamed, Mouse gave you a mortified look. Feeling like the walls were closing around him.

Mouse turned his head to Hank.

“I would never hurt her,” Mouse tried to reassure your father.

“True,” You backed him up. Nodding your head.

“I love her,” Mouse told your father.

“Also, true, and I love him,” You beamed. Reaching your hand out to hold his hand pouting at him when you couldn’t grab his hand.

Hank’s cold expression turned into a smile. Finding the situation slightly amusing. Mouse was nervous while you were calm as ever.

“Guess, the cats out of the bag,” You stated. Shrugging your shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal.

Hank looked at Mouse. Giving him a serious look, which made Mouse shake in fear even more.

“If you hurt my daughter or break her heart, I will hurt you in ways worse then what you witnessed or went through in the military,” Hank threatened. Making Mouse gulp, he nodded his head yes, too afraid to speak. Not that he could get anything out.

“He isn’t joking on that,” You commented. Making Hank let out a chuckle. While Mouses eyes widen…

Jay Halstead:

Crockett raised his hand, making you let out a giggle, as you high fived his hand.

“You impress me every minute,” Crockett praised you. As he and you walked to the parking lot.

“Well, I do my best,” You chuckled. Gripping the strap of your backpack tighter.

“Perfection is the world,” Crockett praised you. Making you stop walking. Turning around to face him. Crockett turned his body to face you. Giving you a charming smile.

He quickly leaned down. Pressing his lips against yours passionately, taking you by surprise. you quickly pushed him off you. Looking at him with a shocked expression.

“I have a boyfriend,” You gasped out.

“Oh,” Crockett added. Looking heartbroken.

“It’s not that I don’t find you attractive or that you are undatable, it’s just I have…” You spoke, but Crockett cut you off.

“You have a boyfriend, I get it, sorry I kissed you,” Crockett spoke.

“Well, he is a lucky guy to have an amazing woman like you in his life,” Crockett spoke again.

“Yeah, water under the bridge,” You spoke. Giving him a half-smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Crockett spoke, turning around and walking away, making you let out a sigh. You turned around. The sound of a gun being fired sounded out through the car parking lot.

You let out a gasp as something ripped through your body. You looked down at your stomach, seeing a large pool of blood. You didn’t even notice the bright lights of the car's headlights or the sound of a car coming towards you. But Crockett did.

He turned around quickly rushing over to you, but it was too late.

“Y/n,” He shouted, as the car hit you, your body hitting the windshield of the car with so much force.

He quickly rushed over to you, as the car speed away.

Cupping your head. You looked up at him with a shocked expression. Blood dripping down from your head. Breathing swallow. Looking down your body to see a bullet wound, and a pool of blood staining your shirt.

“Y/n stay with me,” Crockett spoke. As he looked at your pupils.

“Tell J….” You gasped out, chocking on every word. Making Crockett panic.

“Tell J what? Y/n, you have to stay with me, okay,” Crockett spoke.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n,” Crockett panicked. Picking you up. He quickly rushed into the hospital. Going straight to the ER.

Maggie looked up as she saw Crockett holding you.

“Baghdad,” Maggie instructed him. Crockett quickly rushed to Baghdad, placing you on the bed. Putting the pulse oximetry on your index finger. The machine immediately beeped loudly.

“Y/n,” Will gasped out. Rushing over to Crockett, Maggie. April quickly rushed into the room.

“What happened?” Will asked as he repositioned your head to put intubate you. Will intubated you while Crockett cut your shirt to see the gunshot wound.

“She got shot then a car run over her,” Crockett replied.

“Did it exit?” Will asked as he bagged you.

Crockett rolled, shaking his head. Maggie helped Crockett roll you to your side. Seeing no exit wound. Maggie and Will looked at Crockett with hopeful eyes. Crockett shook his head.

“I need an x-ray,” Crockett demanded. Maggie quickly got one of the techs to come in.

Crockett, Will, April, and Maggie looked at the screen. Feeling more anxious as they saw the results.

“She needs to go to the operating room,” Crockett spoke. They all nodded. Transferring you upstairs…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

Hank held onto his vest as he stood outside the building intelligence raided. Watching the guys, they bust get put into the back seat of cop cars.

His phone ringing. Hank grabbed his phone, looking at the caller ID. He quickly pressed the green button. Raising the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Hank, your daughter had an accident, we believe it was an attempted murder,” Sharon spoke. Hank’s face went pale, as he heard that. His heart thumping in his ears.

Hank didn’t hear the rest of what Sharon was saying. He slowly lowered his phone from his hand. Pressing the end button.

Hank looked like he was going to be sick.

“You okay boss?” Adam asked, noticing Hanks pale expression.

“I have to go to the hospital, it’s y/n, someone tried to murder her,” Hank spoke in a rush. Rushing to his car.

The whole teams face dropped into a look of concern. As they heard the news. Jay looked the most distraught out of all of them. Heart hurting. Eyes filling up with tears.

Jay quickly took off his vest, rushing to his truck.

“Jay where are you going?” Hailey asked. Following him.

“To the hospital,” Jay responded, as he got into the vehicle. Slamming the door on her and speeding off. The rest of the team giving each other looks. Hailey turned around to face them. Giving them a look of defeat.

“We should investigate,” Hailey spoke. Making the rest of the team agree. Getting into their cars and driving to the hospital…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

Jay rushed into the ER. Heart racing.

“Will,” Jay gasped out as he saw his brother at the nurse’s station. Jay rushed over to Will. Clinging onto Will’s arm. As he cried.

“Jay,” Will spoke, pulling Jay into a private area. Away from nurses or anyone who was listening in.

“Is she okay? What room is she in? What floor?” Jay asked. Looking at his brother with tear-filled eyes.

“Jay, she’s hanging in there, she’s in recovery,  you should go before Hank finds out you are here or at least calm your emotions before you enter her room,” Will spoke. Giving his brother a concerned look. Jay shook his head.

“I don’t care about that, she’s in a hospital bed fighting for her life,” Jay snapped. Making Will pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Jay, you’re not thinking rationally,” Will huffed out.

“Yes, I am, my girlfriend is lying there and I’m talking to you about keeping my emotions in cheek,” Jay shouted.

“Girlfriend,” Hailey gasped out. Making Jay turn around to look at her. He gave her an annoyed expression for eavesdropping. It wasn’t any of her business, and as much as he valued her as a partner and friend now wasn’t the time for her to act shocked about finding out he was in a secret relationship, he would deal with it later.

“I don’t have time for this, yes my girlfriend, I’m going to see her,” Jay grumbled, walking off. Hailey looked at him with a hurt expression.

Will gave Hailey a reassuring smile.

“He didn’t mean it, y/n’s in recovery if you want to see her or hank, can’t miss her,” Will spoke, as he left Hailey to do his rounds.

Jay stood outside of your room. Finding the courage to tell your dad he as in a relationship with you, and they were hiding it from him.

Jay inhaled deeply then exhaled. Grabbing the door handle and sliding the door open. Feeling like he got his breath knocked out of him as he saw you lying on the hospital bed. A deep gash on your hairline. Cuts along the top of your eyebrows thought there were butterfly band-aids on them. A cut on your lip.

“Hank, there is something I need to tell you,” Jay gasped out. Heart racing.

“Did you find the guy who did this to her?” Hank asked. As he kept his eyes locked on you. Holding onto your hand. Jay’s heart ached to hold your hand. But he had to tell Hank he was dating you.

“Y/n and I have been in a relationship for a few months now, we just didn’t know how to tell you,” Jay confessed. Hank clenched his jaw. Making Jay nervous. Hank let go of your hand. Carefully put your hand down on the bed.

He stood up, the chair scraping on the ground. Making Jay slightly flinch. Hank lunged himself at Jay. Punching him in the face.

“This is all your fault that she is laying in a hospital bed, one of your enemies or someone who hates you did this to her, maybe it was Angela,” Ha growled with venom in his voice.

“It’s just as much my fault as yours, you have made more enemies than me,” Jay snapped out. Pushing Hank off him.

“Hey,” Crockett yelled pulling Hank off Jay. While Hailey rushed to Jay’s side, Hailey pushed away from Hailey. Hank and Jay glared at each other…

Vanessa Rojas:

Vanessa held the side of your face as she deepened the kiss. Your hands grabbing the lapels of her jacket. Pushing her back against the locker.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Vanessa and you pull away from each other. Looking at where the sound came from.

Eyes widening in fear as Vanessa saw your dad standing in the middle of the room with a displeased look on his face. Scowling at Vanessa. Vanessa gulped before speaking. Feeling slightly intimated.

“I’m not using your daughter as a steppingstone,” She spoke up. Making Hanks gaze intensified. Almost like he was glaring daggers at her.

“I love your daughter, and I would never use her to get ahead in intelligence,” She spoke again. Trying to sound confident but she was scared.

Hank gave Vanessa one last cold hard glare, before walking off.

“Do you think he hates me?”  She asked as she turned around to face you.

“He’ll get over it,” You replied nonchalantly. Making Vanessa give you a look of surprise at how calm you were acting.

“Trust me, if he wanted to kill you he would have done it by now,” You replied. Making her give you a dumbfounded look.

“So, you love me huh?” You spoke. Smirking at her. Her heart fluttering.

“Too soon, isn’t it, I know it’s too early to say I love you’s but…” She spoke. Only for you to cut her off by grabbing the side of her face and pressing your lips against hers passionately.

“It’s never too soon,” You spoke into the kiss….

Adam Ruzek: {this is a part two of Count Your Blessing}

Adam let out a groan, as he ran his hand threw his hair. Looking at the piles of paperwork he had to do. Ever since Hank found him in bed with you, he has been hard on him. Snapping at him.

“Dude, what did you do to Voight?” Kevin asked.

“Dated his daughter,” Adam responded. Letting out another groan.

“Y/n and you? Damn, I always thought y/n and I had a thing,” Kevin responded.

“Unless you value your job, it’s probably best to stay away from her,” Adam responded, making Kevin let out a chuckle. Adam turned to look at Voight in his office to see Voight on the phone. Looking distressed.

Voight quickly hanged up the phone. Grabbing his jacket and walking out of his office.

“Voight, you okay?” Kevin asked.

“It’s y/n, she’s been in a car accident,” Hank answered, tears pricking his eyes. Adam felt his heart tightening.

Hank quickly walked off.

“You okay?” Kevin asked, noticing Adam’s reaction. Adam gulped.

“Yeah,” Adam replied. Looking at the pc screen.

Kevin let out a sigh.

“Go, see her,” Kevin spoke.

“We aren’t together anymore,” Adam spoke. Making Kevin let out a small chuckle.

“But you still feel something for her, go see her, I’ll cover for you,” Kevin spoke again, making Adam sigh. He got up in a rush. Grabbing his jacket and putting it on.

“I owe you,” Adam spoke.

“Sure do,” Kevin replied. As Adam rushed down the stairs and out of the station…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

“Dad, can you stop babying me, I’m honestly fine,” You sighed, trying to sit up but he stopped you.

“You’re not fine, you have two broken ribs, a concussion, a deep gash on your forehead not to mention a dislocated knee,” Hank responded. You tried to suppress an eye roll.

“But I’m alive,” You sighed.

“Barely, when I came in you were barely holding on to life, I thought you were dead, that guy t boned you, your car rolled, you are lucky you are even awake right now, ” Hank shouted, tears coming from his eyes. Making your eyes well up with tears.

“Hey, sh,” Hank cooed, hugging you as carefully as he could.

“You just scared me,” Hank sniffled. Pulling away. Grabbing the side of your face.

“I didn’t see him coming, dad, he just came out of nowhere, and the light was green, so I went through it,” You sobbed. Hank wiped your fallen tears away. Anger bubbling up inside of him at the other driver.

“I promise you, that guy who hit you won’t be ever getting his license he will be hit with charges,” Hank spoke. Making you frown.

“Dad,” You gasped out, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. Your heart rate picking up.

“I’ll be back, I have to take care of something,” Hank spoke. Leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Dad, please don’t do anything stupid.” You spoke, as he pulled away and walked out of your room.

You slightly sat up. Cringing in pain. Your eyes widen in shock as you saw Adam.

“Adam, what are you doing here?” You gasped out.

“I had to see you,” He gasped out. Rushing over to your side. Grabbing ahold of your hand.

“You should go, before my dad gets back,” You gasped out, trying to pull your hand away from his but failing.

“Your hurt,” Adam gasped out. Inspecting your wounds.

“Adam now is not a good time,” You panicked. Looking over his shoulder.

“I just had to make sure you were okay,” Adam spoke. His thumb caressing the back of his hand.

“I’ll just text you when he leaves the hospital, go before he murders you,” You spoke. Trying to push him away again but failed.

“I can’t keep hiding this from him,” He spoke. Making your heart rate speed up more. The machine beeping.

“No, he will murder you, Adam, you can’t,” You gasped out. Giving him a pleading look.

“I can’t keep our relationship a secret any longer,” Adam gasped out.

“You bastard,” Hank gasped out. Pulling Adam away from you and throwing him on the ground.

“Dad, no,” You shouted, gaining the attention of nurses.

“I told you to break up with her and you didn’t, you snuck behind my back,” Hank yelled. Pinning Adam to the ground by his shoulders. Nostrils flared, eyes narrowing into slits. Mouth set in a thin line.

“Sir, you need to step back,” Security commanded, pulling Hank off of Adam, another security guard helping the other guard out.

Hank glared at Adam, then looked at you shaking his head in disapproval, making you cry…

Hailey Upton:

Hailey’s jaw tightened. Jealousy spiking inside of her as she watched some scumbag run his hands up your legs, getting a little bit closer to you, as you twirled your straw around in the glass.

“What a pig,” She grumbled, venom in her voice. Making Jay look up from the monitor. Arching an eyebrow at her.

“Y/n can handle herself, plus she would say the safe word if she was uncomfortable,” Jay spoke, looking back at the monitor, this only seemed to irritate Hailey more.

Hailey clenched her fists into balls. Feeling disgusted at the guy for putting his hands on you.

“I’m going to go in,” Hailey announced. Taking her headphones off. She got up, but Jay stopped her.

“Woah, she’s doing fine,” Jay spoke, grabbing her forearm. Hailey shook her head, shaking off Jay’s grip. She turned around to look back at him. Glaring at him.

“She needs me,” Hailey spoke.

“Hailey, if you go in there you will blow her cover,” Jay argued with her.

“Then I’ll go in as her backup,” Hailey snapped.

“Hailey,” Jay snapped.

“You can’t stop me,” Hailey growled. Getting out of the van. Walking into the bar making you slightly sit up.

“What’s wrong?” The guy spoke, looking behind him.

“It’s nothing, I just really need my fix,” You spoke.

“Doesn’t look like nothing, I think your one of those undercover cops,” He spoke. Looking at you suspiciously. This made Hailey nervous. She was close enough to hear and see what was happening. Hailey grabbed her gun, drawing it out.

“What’s going on why is Hailey in there?” Hank spoke, through the walkie talkie. Jay inhaled then exhaled, grabbing the walkie talkie.

“Hailey thought y/n was made, so she came in,” Jay lied, covering for his partner. Hank let out a grunt.

“It’s just the withdrawals, I really need a fix,” You begged.

“Maybe, you should get help,” He spoke, making you slightly panic.

“Well, if I get help then you wouldn’t have any business, not to mention I can get you, potential customers,” You spoke. Giving him a sly smile.

“As well as please you,” You seductively spoke, running your index up his arm. Making Hailey get jealous.

The guy smirked at you. Hailey glared at him.

“Not here, out the back,” The guy spoke. Standing up.

“drugs first before I go down on you,” You demanded. Grabbing his forearm.

The guy let out a sigh, grabbing a packet out from his back pocket. Handing it over to you.

“Thanks,” You beamed. Smirking at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hailey came towards the guy. Grabbing his arm roughly and pushing him against the counter with excessive force.

“CPD, you’re under arrest, ” Hailey yelled. Pressing him harder.

“You bitch,” He growled looking at you.

“Don’t talk to her like that asshole,” Hailey snapped, grabbing his head, and turning it roughly to face her.

“You’re going along for a long time,” She snarled out. Pulling him up and walking him out of the bar.

Hank gave the guy a cold hard stare, as Jay helped Hailey out.

His cold stare turned into a look of worry as you came out of the door.

“You okay?” Hank asked you.

“Yeah,” You replied, handing him the bag. Hank took the small bag from you, letting out a grunt. Handing it to another cop who walked by him.

“Y/n, what’s going on between Hailey and you?” Hank asked.

“Nothing,” You replied. Giving him a convincing smile. But he knew better.

“Hmm, by her reaction it seemed personal,” Hank spoke. Holding onto his vest.

“She’s just worried about me,” You replied.

“So, was I but I didn’t go and rush in there,” Hank responded.

“Look, Dad, I really have to get to my job, you know as a firefighter,” You huffed out. Leaning up and kissing his cheek.

“Be careful,” Hank spoke. Making you smile.

“Always am,” You responded, walking off.

“I’ll get a statement from you after your shift ends,” Hank spoke loudly.

“Looking forward to it,” You yelled. Getting into your car.

Hank looked back at Hailey to see her watching you.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Hank muttered to himself….

[comfy-whumpee]

Birdhouse: Inbox

@neuro-whump, @rosesareviolentlyread ! CN: BBU, referenced torture and starvation, dehumanisation, ‘it’ pronouns.

Trans women are women.

To: help@refurbox.org

From: john@mountainwater.com

Subject: Inquiry

 Dear Refurbox,

My daughter recently received one of your Platonics for her birthday. When we arranged this, we were told that we could get one that could give her help with her homework – I think it was called the tuition add on?

 We tried to get Penny to help her the other day and she was completely useless! Obviously it’s not her fault but she had no idea what was going on even when we showed her basic math. Did something go wrong with the add on?

 Let me know what to do to get this for her.

 Thanks,

 John Hannover

  You replied to this message at 09:05

 Dear Mr Hannover,

 Thank you for getting in touch about this issue. Our records show that you made two Platonic purchases from us on the 19th May, which were delivered on the 6th July. Could you confirm the product code for ‘Penny’, so that we can help you further?

 Kind regards,

 Marie Allen

Customer Service Specialist

Refurbox: sustainable acquisitions, bespoke solutions.

 -

 To: help@refurbox.org

From: main@arimuraphotography.com

Subject: Physical Condition of Delivery

 To whom it may concern,

 On Wednesday 14th July, I received the delivery of my order from your company. My product number is 6R351. I am writing to inform you that my product arrived in unacceptable condition. They were packaged in an extremely small box with only four air holes at the top of the crate. There was no padding to protect their body from damage. They were not given sufficient water for the journey and were in a disoriented, dizzy condition when I opened the box.

 During the journey, they were bruised across their elbows, knees and back. They received four splinters to the soles of their feet. They had a concussion and were unable to answer my questions coherently. They required medical attention, and are not yet in a fit condition to complete their duties.

 Given the exorbitant price I paid for their specifications, I am disappointed that such little care was taken with my item. I expect to be reimbursed for the cost of the treatment I had to seek for them.

 Kenta Arimura

  You replied to this message at 09:16.

 Dear Mr Arimura,

 We deeply apologise for the condition of your Refurbox product on its arrival. Refurbox products are treated with utmost care through every stage of their refurbishing process. I have investigated your case and can confirm that 6R351 departed from our main facility in perfect physical condition, having passed a quality control check personally delivered by our expert team.

 Unfortunately, Refurbox cease to take responsibility for the product’s condition once it is sent out for delivery. This is stated in clause 16(b) of your sales contract.

 Please direct your complaint and any further action to the delivery company, AnyHaul USA.

 Kind regards,

 Marie Allen

Customer Service Specialist

Refurbox: sustainable acquisitions, bespoke solutions.

 -

 To: help@refurbox.org

From: bani_angel@hotmail.com

Subject: My box boy

 Hi

 My boxie dropped a plate because of us saying the word ‘refurbished’. Every time we say this he freaks out and starts crying. We have started doing furniture upholstery as a hobby and we have to use this word a lot.

 Please fix this!

 Bani

  You replied to this message at 9:24

 Dear Mrs Bhatia,

 We are sorry to hear that you have had an unsatisfactory experience with your product. Refurbishment is the term used across the human pet industry to describe the process of retraining a pet for a new purpose and home. The efficient rehoming of pets is at the heart of our ethos at Refurbox, and the term is one that all our products are exposed to.

 The purchase records for 1D553 indicate that his company of origin is WRU, whose products often exhibit this fear response. I advise that you contact them to seek consultation on alleviating this effect.

 In the meantime, consider purchasing the Radio Silence accessory set, which will prevent your product from overhearing anything undesirable. It can be found in our store at this link.

 Kind regards,

 Marie Allen

Customer Service Specialist

Refurbox: sustainable acquisitions, bespoke solutions.

 -

 To: help@refurbox.org

From: john@mountainwater.com

Subject: Re: Inquiry

 Hi Marie,

 Yeah, it’s 4P973. The other one is 4P976 but she was for my sister and doesn’t live with us.

 Thanks again,

 John

  You replied to this message at 09:36

 Dear Mr Hannover,

 Thank you for clarifying the product code. I have compared the training records for 4P973 and 4P976. In the order form for your purchases, I can see that you selected the Tuition Package add-on for 4P976, not 4P973. 4P976 completed the Tuition Package training prior to delivery.

 There are two options available to you going forwards. Firstly, 4P976, your sister’s product, is fully trained and capable of providing homework help to your daughter. You may wish to borrow her for this purpose, or exchange products with your sister.

 Secondly, we offer the Tuition Package as a post-purchase class. ‘Penny’ would be welcome to take that class, which runs for six weeks during the summer holiday, commencing on the 29th July. This would mean she will be fully equipped in time to assist your daughter in the coming academic year.

 If you wish to join the course, please contact classes@refurbox.org with your name, product code, and preferred training location, which are viewable on our website.

 Kind regards,

 Marie Allen

Customer Service Specialist

Refurbox: sustainable acquisitions, bespoke solutions.

 -

 To: help@refurbox.org

From: nhc1979@fastmail.com

Subject: Re: 8T485 – Behaviour

 Hi Marie,

 Thank you for your reply. I’ve worked through the behaviour incentives you suggested but I still haven’t seen any improvement. He still tries to bite whenever I go near him and I’ve had to start wearing protective gloves when I feed him. He swears at me constantly and I have no idea where he learned those words from. The other day, he said he didn’t want anything but for me to die.

 We’re at a loss. I don’t want to send him back, but if he keeps being a danger to my family, I think it would be the best thing for us.

 Would there be a way for you to retrain him and send him back to us later? He fits our physical specifications exactly, and we would really like to make this work. I assume this would be cheaper than getting a whole new one trained, too.

 The advice you gave has been fantastic and the shock collar has stopped him screaming at all hours, so it’s not all bad, but I still think we need to consider something more severe.

 Let me know what the options are.

 Best,

 Nick and Tina

  You forwarded this message at 10:01 to training@refurbox.org.

 Hi team,

 Hope your day started off right! I heard that ginger one is causing a riot again, trying to climb out the windows and stuff. Euroboxies are such nightmares, a few years ago I remember we had one who punched everyone within reach for their first week.

 I’ve been trying to help this customer with his product, they’ve had really bad issues with him and honestly I don’t think they’re being hard enough on him. They’re still feeding him even when I said to limit his diet to the protein shakes (I think they’re cheapskates and don’t want to buy the formula from us!) But now they want to send him back for retraining.

Is there anything else I can suggest to them before we take this one back in? We’re on a hot streak this month for rehomes and I don’t want to lose that 100% before July finishes!

 I was thinking of suggesting they put him in sense dep, get him all freaked out and needy. But I don’t know if you have any better ideas.

 Thanks as always guys :)

 Marie ❤

Marie Allen

Customer Service Specialist

Refurbox: sustainable acquisitions, bespoke solutions.

[hotchley]

the process

Hi, I know it's been a while (more than a month) but life is overtaking everything. Literally wrote this in thirty minutes. Not a clue what this is, apart from Hotch going through the stages of grief after the events of Boston. I guess you could call it a character study. I basically wanted him to cry.

@whump-town this one is for you because writing it reminded me of how much your fics developed my style of writing Hotch, I love you more than I love reading He's Not Taking His Medicine <3

Trigger Warnings: implied child abuse, grief, depression, off-stage death

read on ao3!

Hotshot does not cry when he realises that Jason hasn't listened to him and has sent more agents into the building where Adrian Bale is because he is too busy doing damage control. This is shock.

Hotch does not cry when the building explodes, killing one civilian and six people who he had grown to love more than he ever thought he was capable of because he is in a pain so indescribable he is numb to everything- including what he is calling Jason's betrayal. This is denial.

Haley's Hotchner does not cry when Haley walks into his hospital room, fear written across her features and reveals that the reason she is late is because she is pregnant because he is seeing a future that he never thought he would have, and one which terrified is too gentle for. This is bargaining.

SSA Aaron Hotchner does not cry when Internal Affairs say Jason Gideon has taken leave to temporarily pursue teaching, leaving him Unit Chief and in charge of rebuilding the team, because he is traitorously grateful that he won't be home enough to become his father. This is guilt.

Mr Hotchner does not cry when he sees the graves for the first time, having missed the funeral because he was far too weak to go anywhere but across the room to the toilet, because he cannot help but feel like the names that should be written on those headstones are the same names of people who got to walk away. This is anger.

The Baby's Father does not cry when Haley washes his hair with a tenderness that nobody ever taught him as a child- which is why his touch never feels right now, he's realised that- because he is slowly realising that he is going to lose her, and the sooner he does, the better because he is hollow now. He couldn't even go with her to the appointment. He'd heard the nurse on the phone refer to him as the baby's father. They don't even know who he is. He didn't even react to that. He just rolled over- so his good ear would be muffled by the pillow. This is depression.

Aaron cries when he returns to work. He falls to his knees, a hand pressed to his mouth to stop the pitiful sounds that won't stop escaping, with tears streaming down his face as the weight of all that he has lost finally hits him. There are six smiling photos staring back at him. The people in them aren't going to get any older, but he will. He's already older than one of them and that terrifies him. He sobs, and suddenly Haley has her arms wrapped around him and she feels like a fearless and unconditional perfection. This is not acceptance.

Nothing is. Not when it is intrinsically tied to his notion of fault, and the way it belongs to him.