#fitz you were the only person to trick you. you knew these things

[grenadine-blood]

post-quarrel 💔

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 31: Fitz's Showtime

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, hypnotic induction

Fitz wasn't one for making plans, normally trusting in his ability to wing his way through any situation life threw at him. That approach had worked well enough until it had ended up with him imprisoned in a vampires' auction house.

Over the past few days, he'd already suffered what was practically a fate worse than death: being left with nothing to do but stew in his own mind. His treacherous brain had helpfully supplied an exhaustive list of every mistake he'd made along the way to end up here, and all of the ways he could have avoided this fate now that it was too late.

But with his cell neighbors unresponsive -- and he didn't want to think too hard about how that might have come about -- there wasn't anything at all to occupy him apart from meals and sleep. The meals were surprisingly generous and varied, and Fitz supposed that if they really were vampires, they must be fattening him up the way you would a prized pig. Sleep was less generous, as the pitch blackness, complete silence, stiff cot, and vampire guards all conspired to make him uneasy.

So he had plenty of time to think of how he would approach it when Lily came for his mind. Now, he'd ended up in a plush, too-comfortable chair, facing down the vampire who'd captured him.

He wasn't even tied down. He'd been nothing but ingratiating towards the vampires the whole time he'd been here. Lily had made it beyond obvious that he wasn't going to escape through strength or speed, and on his first night, he personally witnessed an angry, cursing, struggling man being dragged away and coming back a hollow shell.

No, that sort of struggle was pointless. He could instead bide his time. Be friendly and charming. Hope that someone would let their guard down or give him a special privilege. He'd have an easier time of it and more opportunities to free himself. At least, that was the theory.

Of course, all of that was for naught if he were actually put deep under whatever mesmeric spell they were using to keep the other captives still and silent.

He knew very well now that Lily was capable of it. He also knew that simply resisting would not do -- little chance they would give up and let him go instead of trying over and over again until he was broken. No, the only thing to do would be to play along, pretend to be under her spell, and hope he could keep the spell from touching him in truth. The longest of long shots, but he didn't have a better idea.

"So I hear you've been on your best behavior," said Lily with a smug smile. "Joking around with the blood grader and everything."

Fitz lounged in the chair as though his existence weren't on the line. "I wouldn't dream of being rude to a man who calls my blood special grade A fancy."

"And here I worried you might be trouble. But it seems you do know your place, better than you think," said Lily. "That's why I have a proposition for you."

"If it's another five dollar bet, I'm going to have to respectfully pass on that."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she said, amused. "As I told you before, I'd like to sell you to a friend with deep pockets and a soft heart. I think he will appreciate you. The less you resist the conditioning, the more I can allow you to keep that wit of yours. That works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes, just peachy," he said. She couldn't possibly think he was daft enough to trust her a second time, not when she held all the cards.

"I know you don't believe me, but it's actually a great deal for you. You'd live in a mansion and have an easy life, all in exchange for just a bit of blood." Her words were honeyed, and Fitz could practically feel them worming their way into his mind. "You won't have to be Fitzwilliam de Hastings, disgraceful and useless third son of the de Hastings shipping conglomerate. You won't have to be Phantom Fitz, scraping and clawing for fame with your little magic tricks. You can just be Fitz. Loved. Wanted. Cherished."

If only any of that were true. If only it weren't just a trick to soften his mind and get him to accept a vampiric master, one who would "love" and "cherish" him the same way he might "cherish" a fine bottle of wine.

"As intriguing as all of that is, and as flattered as I am by those lovely descriptions of me, I'm going to have to decline your offer," he said with a tight smile.

Her own smile turned predatory. "You haven't really given me a chance to persuade you."

"I think I've heard --"

"Have you, though? Or have you been half paying attention while focused all on yourself?" she said, leaning in closer. "Here I am, my entire focus centered on you, and you aren't repaying the favor. Why don't you focus, Fitz? Why don't you relax?"

There was no doubt she was exerting her power this time. Fitz could feel the magnetic pull of it. This was it, this was showtime -- the moment he had to somehow convince her that he was being enthralled, without actually falling. He couldn't make it seem too sudden or she wouldn't buy it. What should he do? Should he be visibly affected by what she just did? But he'd hesitated and --

"You think too much," she said. "I'm going to need to stop that first. Slow and soothe your mind, make it so hard to think that you just give in and listen. Look where all your thinking and scheming has gotten you. Won't it feel so much nicer not to do that?"

He nodded, with a bit of hesitation, widening his eyes, playacting that her mesmerism was taking him down once more. Lily was good at luring a mark, but so was he. 

"Yes, isn't that easy?" she said, amused. "Just let my words soothe you so you can listen. It'll feel so good when those racing thoughts slow down. We both know it's inevitable, so why keep searching for an escape that won't come? Why not take the easy and pleasant path?"

"Because, as I told you before, I don't care to be a vampire's convenient lunch box," he said, making sure to slow his voice and lace it with doubt. The more she thought he was falling, the more careless she would be.

"It's so cute to watch your thoughts turn in your head. I can practically see them, dear. I can see that machinery working those threads of thought, weaving them together into plans and fears and witty little comments. I can see all the weaknesses in those gears, all the places where they can easily be slowed. Can you see it?"

"Hm?" he said, caught off guard, not sure how he should respond to that one. Did she suspect what he was up to? Of course she might, she might've mesmerized hundreds of people for all he knew, and he surely wasn't the first to think of pretending.

But that didn't mean she was always successful. Of course she claimed that she was. That was an important part of the confidence game; he would've done the same in her shoes. But for all he knew, her actual success rate was poor. Surely he wouldn't be the first to fool her. After all...

After all, he was...

Fitz blinked, trying to remember the end to that thought.

"...you don't even need to listen as your mind slowly drains of its cares and worries... so relaxed... so comfortable..."

He shook himself in mild alarm. She'd been talking this whole time and he'd zoned out thinking and hadn't kept up his act. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a convincingly dazed expression.

"How are you feeling, Fitz?" she asked.

"...Good," he said, an answer that seemed safe, as he wasn't quite sure how she expected him to feel. 

"Good," she repeated. "Isn't this nice? Having someone's full attention on you without having to fight to earn it? Isn't it nice to be so wanted?"

His brow furrowed. "Well..."

"That's how it's going to be from now on. No more fight for attention, no more fight for approval, no more fight for survival. You'll have your needs taken care of and overflowing praise to boot. Just like you crave, deep down."

Oh, she was good. Good enough to make his chest ache with the thought of what she was offering. If only...

"You're going to be the best thrall, Fitz. I've never seen anyone as delectable, handsome, and charming, with such an intoxicating scent. You'll have your vampire eating out of the palm of your hand -- literally, perhaps."

Fitz blinked slowly, wondering how he should react to keep up the game, trying to ignore the warm sensations he got from the praise, no matter how manipulative and insincere "Do you think that cheap flattery will work on --"

"Look at me," she said, hooking a finger under his chin and gazing straight into his eyes. "You can see it, can't you? A future of being cherished and loved?"

"I --"

"Imagine a vampire who wants you, one who wants so badly to drink deep of your blood that he practically worships the ground you walk on. He'll want you always by his side, his beloved prize, protected and treasured."

It wasn't hard to imagine. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about things like this on lonely, difficult nights. Something beyond sex and courtship. Intimacy. Comfort.

The kind of things that he hardly dared to think about for long, lest he feel their absence too keenly. The kind of things that were meant for those who had grown up wanted, who knew how to trust and let themselves fall in love. These delights weren't meant for the kind of person who wore a mask wherever he went and conned everyone he met.

"Just relax." She ran her fingers through his hair. "No more pain, no more struggle. No more struggle, now. No more struggle."

If any of this were true, it really wouldn't be so bad.

"No more struggle, no more fighting, no more resisting."

"I'm..." he mumbled. "I'm not..." He had to pretend that he was falling. He let his eyes blink so slowly.

"Oh, my dear, my Fitz, I know you aren't. You're doing such a good job right now."

His eyelids fluttered. "I am?"

"Yes, yes you are. You're doing such a good job. I told you, you're a natural. You're perfect."

He couldn't help but smile. That was good. She believed it was working.

"That's a good boy now. All you really want is approval, isn't it? For someone to see you and decide they're exactly what they need."

"Yeah..."

"You're going to have that, and all the praise and approval you could ever want," she said. "I promise."

He couldn't trust her, he remembered. This was all fake, just like every other time he'd been promised something. But he had to pretend that he believed. He was good at pretending. 

"That's right, you're good at pretending. You're doing such a good job pretending to go under for me, Fitz."

Fitz felt the relief wash over him. Thank goodness for that. He'd been so nervous about this the past few nights, trying to convince himself that he'd be just fine outsmarting a vampire and saving himself. 

Wait --

"It's okay!" Lily laughed. "It's okay, really. I know what you're up to. I expected that from you, of course. And I know what you fear. You fear being made mindless and docile like most of your cell-mates."

Fitz crushed down his panic. His plan wasn't working, his mind already felt hazy and sluggish from Lily's mesmerism, and now his worst nightmare might be about to come true. He'd spent so long escaping from a family where every little word and move was regimented, scrutinized, criticized, judged and punished. At least in those days he could escape into his head. Now, he'd be brought back to that place, with no recourse.

"...Yes, obviously, I fear that," he said, hating how vulnerable he sounded but not knowing what else to say. "Who wouldn't?"

"Who wouldn't?" she echoed. "But it doesn't matter, ultimately, because I've already given you a powerful hypnotic trigger the first time I had you in my thrall, and told you to forget it."

Adrenaline surged through him. "No, there's no way you --"

"Showtime, Fitz."

He only had one more brief moment to panic before his mind shut down entirely.

---

"...two, one, and wake. Come back to the land of the living now, Fitz."

He opened his eyes, feeling like he'd just awoken from a really refreshing nap. It took him a second to realize where he was and what had just happened to him, and all relaxation was immediately wiped out by his fear. Miss Lily had given him a hypnotic trigger, she must have erased his mind, he'd be nothing more than --

Except... he clearly wasn't.

"Confused?"

"You..." He wasn't really sure how to approach this. "You didn't wipe my mind, sir."

"Did you want me to?" she asked with a grin.

"No! Absolutely not, sir," he said. "But you had me -- you knocked me out --" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense the overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. Grateful that he still had an overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. "What did you do, sir?"

"I made you obedient to vampires. I removed your ability to escape. And I made you crave our feedings. Nothing more, nothing less."

Fitz stared. It couldn't be that simple. Not that he was thrilled about the changes, but he had expected much more and much worse. 

But he didn't feel different. He was still capable of thought. He was still nervous. He could still remember who he was.

"If that's all you were going to do, sir... why did you bother with all of your setup? Why not just mesmerize me the moment I walked in?"

"Because mesmerism is a performance, dear Fitz. I thought that you of all humans would understand that," she said. 

Fitz could feel his eyebrow twitch.

"There's magic involved, of course, or it wouldn't take so strongly, but magic alone doesn't make me so effective at molding perfect thralls. Cold reading, misdirection, distraction -- all of these are critical to what I do. I needed your original plan to fail before I truly conditioned you, and I needed to plant the seeds that a vampire might cherish and accept you. The results speak for themselves, don't you think?"

"I'm not even sure I can tell what the results are, sir."

"Precisely."

Fitz scowled. Was he really that obedient now? Did she actually make him "crave their feedings"? So he would just accept some bloodsucker gently tilting his head to expose his vulnerable neck... a wicked grin as sharp fangs grew closer... his mind growing hazy with pleasure...

"Oh, goddamn it, sir."

Miss Lily laughed. "Now do you see?"

It was a relief, in a way, that he could feel the results of the thrall now. That meant he could get a bead on what she'd done to him. "Yes, I'm afraid I do, sir -- hold on, you also made me call you 'sir', didn't you?"

"Any vampire. Yes. But you're allowed to say it as sarcastically as you want."

"Thank you for that most gracious allowance, sir."

"Oh, you're very welcome."

Part 30.5 >> Masterlist >> Part 32

Extras: Emily's Crayons Fitz in the Snow

Fitz's Volunteer Part One

Thank you for reading about Fitz.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[edenxmonroe]

"I won't bore you with the details, but just know there are many differences." Though Eden was very good at talking, and talking, and talking, she was also good at reading her audience. So, she knew when to keep going and when to stop. She knew the explaining the differences between lipstick and lipgloss would bore Fitz, so she saved him from having to sit through it. "Neither did I, but I guess it'll always have some new trick up it's sleeve, just waiting for the right moment." She hoped things would be quiet for a while. The clean up was going to take weeks, possibly months, and the residents of Raven's Peak needed time to recover. "I might be down to seven, I don't really know." Eden forced a laugh as best she could, trying to make it seem like she wasn't too bothered about her experience that night.

The rocking motion was welcomed, and made her feel more at ease. She wasn't sure how Fitz knew how to make her feel better, but she was grateful for it. Another blush warmed her cheeks as Fitz spoke so sweetly of her. For someone who always tried to say things that made people feel good about themselves, she wasn't so used to hearing them said to her. Giggling quietly as Fitz booped her nose, she couldn't help but smile. "Just as I wish nothing but the best for you." Though she knew that Fitzroy was in a situation that wasn't something he particularly wanted, she hoped that maybe he could find some happiness with the person he had been matched with. Eternally optimistic, she truly hoped things would work out for her friend. "Well, seeing people smile is enough affirmation for me." Plus, when she got up in the morning, when she wasn't feeling so sparkly, she would give herself little pep talks.

She gave his question some thought, and though she knew Fitzroy's arrangement was made with a reason, she couldn't stop her own heart from answering. "I guess it depends on the person. Courting should take as long as you need to feel sure about them. When you get to the point where just the thought of them makes you smile, not just on the outside but on the inside, that's when you know it's time to do something about it. Then, if you're lucky enough to have them feel the same way, you should just keep courting. You should spend the rest of your life letting them know how you feel about them, in small ways, in big ways. It's when you stop wanting to do that, that's when you know things are in trouble."

Ever since she was young, Eden had imagined what her wedding would be like one day. "A December wedding? But it would be so cold! Mid-May would be so much nicer. Spring flowers would be in bloom, daffodils, lily of the valley, forget-me-nots, lilacs, and you could have the wedding outside in a beautiful garden. Somewhere with a grassy area, surrounded by flowerbeds. Maybe on some small hill so there would be a nice view, although no one would be looking at the view. All eyes would be on the happy couple, standing together under an archway covered in Wisteria, though May is a little early for Wisteria, so maybe Holboellia instead. They would be holding hands and looking at each other like they were the only two people there, completely lost in each other." It was clear that she'd given this a lot of thought, or maybe she'd just seen too many romance movies. Or both. "The sun would be shining, and there would be a slight breeze, just enough to keep things a nice temperature. Not too many people in attendance, just those who are most important..." She trailed off, realising that Fitz hadn't actually asked for ceremony ideas. "Sorry." Eden said sheepishly, remembering that Fitzroy likely had a completely different idea of what a wedding should be.

"In fact? Forgive me," he said, doing his best not to laugh. He could just see the girl was itching to explain the differences-- he wondered how long she'd hold out for. Though the humor of the moment faded away some as she went further into how lucky she was. "I had no idea Raven's Peak could be so dodgy," Fitzroy remarked. Even though it was full of different supernatural creatures, it always seemed to be a certain safe space for them, an unlikely community. "Does this mean you only have eight lives left?" he teased, in order to lighten the moment once more. Fitzroy imagined that perhaps, she would rather not relive that night so soon... If ever.

As she settled in and got more comfortable, he rocked side-to-side ever so slightly-- happy for the contact himself. Sometimes, it was just nice to cuddle with someone and feel reassured. "You are an absolute delight," Fitzroy told the woman, reaching up to boop her lightly at the tip of her nose, "and you should never forget it. I wish nothing but the best for you in life." Most people, Fitzroy was aware, didn't really speak like that so openly and freely. But he had no qualms on saying what he felt and thought, most of the time. One day, he wouldn't get to say any of it, right? So now was as good a time as ever. "Quite frankly, it is bullocks you do not have someone giving you daily affirmations of how lovely a person you are."

It made no sense to him, really. Eden was beautiful, smart, funny. Most of all, genuine. She absolutely should be drowning in attention, far as he was concerned. But in that moment, Fitzroy was a tad bit selfish to be glad that currently, it wasn't the case. Because if it had been, then she probably wouldn't be sitting with him as she was now, needing the comfort as much as he.

"I don't know," he admitted with a slight grimace. Normally, the family had a set schedule-- three months usually the max. This time, however, was a bit different. Things felt different. They had come for another reason than their usual vacation, even though that was still their 'official' notice. "How long do you consider is proper to court someone?" he asked, curious to her thoughts on it. "Especially someone that knows it's coming? No one has really said much to me on how to get it done, only that I must. So I thought... Maybe a month? And after, the engagement may go another two months or so." As he spoke, Fitzroy's thumb had found its way within the fabric of Eden's shirt to caress back and forth along the bare skin just under her midriff. Though his gaze was ahead on the TV, he still wasn't watching it. "I'd assume a December wedding?" He spoke of it so clinically, because it wasn't anything he particularly wanted or cared about-- it was simply something to be done and gotten out of the way.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Clean Slate (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A debt in your hometown comes back to haunt you and sends you and your best friend into a tailspin of credit cards, cops, running and shouting.

“We don’t have to do this.” Your older sister (not by blood) told you as she continued to drive you, passing the sign that said, “Welcome to New Orleans”. This was it, no going back.

Well, there was. But you knew how Daisy could be with dramatics.

“You didn’t have to come.” You told her, even if thankful she came.

“Of course, I was going to come with you.” She said, firmly.

“You don’t owe me anything, Daisy.” You responded with, looking away from the mirror and meeting her gaze as she turned her head to look at you for a moment before it went back to the road.

“This isn’t about debts. I know I don’t, just as much as you don’t with him.”

“I do. SHIELD fucked that up. Besides, I know what it’s like to be blindsided like that.” You were stubborn.

But so was she, “There’s more to life than just ticking off boxes for people that are never gonna fully be done with you.”

You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh through your nose.

Daisy knew a thing or two about owing people, a lot of people. But she was always one who knew that those debts would never fully be paid off. She knew it wouldn’t work; that whoever it was would never be satisfied.

Did she say any of that as she drove into where your home was? Fuck no. You were her friend, her best friend, and a younger sibling to her. She hated this but loved you. She’d go the ends of the earth for any of you; it was why she kept driving and didn’t mention any of it.  

She pulled up at what used to be your old house. It had definitely seen better days, it looked like a wreck.

“You used to live here?” She asked, looking at the dump of a place. Although, in your mind, she lived in a van, so wasn’t one to talk.

“You’re one to talk. I’ve been in that van now for what seems to be a lifetime.” You heard Daisy make a noise that was offended by what you said. She let it go, however, and let you go in and grab what you needed.

You walked into your home, being hit with a wave of nostalgia. You remembered yourself sat on the couch that was still rotting away, shoving a needle into your arm. Some would say that would be death you were putting into your body; you would call it life instead. It kept you going. It made you say “Yes, one day, I will get enough.” And yet SHIELD hadn’t given you a pay check so…fuck.

Still, you removed one of the floorboards, finding an old squirrel fund you had kept for a while. Somehow, no one had found it.

You then heard your name being called, and saw Daisy holding a phone, and an uneasy look on her face.

Your heartrate picked up as you approached her, taking the phone from her and putting it to your ear.

“There they are.” The voice said to you, and you could almost hear how glad he was to know it was you; and that you both knew where this was going to go.

“Marcus.” You said, trying to not let the fear show.

“Aye, lass.” But he could still tell how you were feeling about this, “Wee bird told me you came home. Thought I’d give my favourite customer a call. See how they’re doing.” You were surprised at how easy you found the thick Scottishness in his voice; Fitz had helped with that, of course.

You closed your eyes and took a breath, “What do you want?”

His tone went serious, “Fuck do you think, love? My money.” Of course. He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he only hung up.

You pulled the phone from your ear, turning to Daisy who was leaning her hands against the hood of the van, she rose an eyebrow.

“You can go, you know?”

She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move either, “Daisy, I’m serious. Go, I’ll meet you when I’m done.”

She spoke then, “Give me the phone.”

“Daisy –”

She moved over to you and held out her hand, “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“Daisy –” Your voice was more serious as you gave her the phone.

“I’m just…worried about you, alright? You came back here for a reason.”

“I need to do this Daisy. I have to make it right.”

Daisy sighed, “Not alone. And besides –”

“You’re my friend, Y/N. And I’m coming with you.” She said, in her tone that meant ‘this is final’.

You had no choice but to nod, “Ok, let’s save our asses.”

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

Your first stop was a bar. It was one that had a familiar vibe to it for you. And the person you saw tending it brought more than just a familiar vibe, it brought feelings to you. She still looked the same, still with her long burgundy hair, electric blue eyes. It was like she had never changed.

Then you saw the name she had on her name tag; it was different.

There was barely anyone else in this bar. It was just you, Daisy, her, and about 2 other people who didn’t seem to care of the new company.

However, she then looked up, freezing just as you had when you saw her. The pair of you were frozen, just staring at each other.

“Y/N.” She spoke. Daisy felt the atmosphere shift from cosey and inviting, to cold and distant.

“’Madison’.” You greeted back, reading the name tag she wore.

She looked at it and chuckled, “Yeah, well, desperate times and all that. You know how Marcus is.”

You took a step towards her as she came around from behind the bar. The two of you inched closer and closer…Daisy watched on warily.

“I know he wants his money back.” You said, bluntly.

“Ah, I bet he does. After that stunt you pulled.” ‘Madison’ threw back at you.

“That was SHIELD –” You never got to finish your sentence, as ‘Madison’ had struck you on the face.

You retorted with your own. The two of you then found yourself with two arms holding each other as you both threw yourself into the bar, heads colliding with the pumps. You both groaned at your less than stellar plan.

“SHIELD picked me up! You don’t think I wanted to come back!” You yelled as she smashed a bottle on the table.

“Then why didn’t you?” She asked as she attacked you with the bottle. You jumped back, before slamming your head into hers.

“I was trying to –” She counted with a kick between your legs.

“I had to change my name because of that bastard! And you come back!” She exclaimed.

“Then why are you mad at me?!” You said, on your knees, holding between your legs.

“…Because you left, and I had no idea where you were. I thought you were dead.”  She admitted, voice going quieter.

Daisy then made herself known, putting her arm under your own and helping you up, “Why not help us? We could use an extra pair of hands?” She asked, despite her first impression of the woman.

She looked from you to Daisy and back again. She then turned to other two customers, “See those two?” Daisy nodded, still holding onto you, “They’re new. They don’t exactly know the tricks we do.” Daisy saw where this was going.

“We got it.” Daisy assured her, checking on you one more time as you had seemed to be more stable now.

“You do?” Madison seemed almost surprised.

“Trust me, I had to do my fair share of that to pay for shit.” With that, the pair of you went over to the two. You sat next to them.

It was like you’d never left; and it seemed Daisy did have a lot of experience of this. It was a simple gig really: sit next to them, pretended to be their friend, chat them up about whatever they wanted and pretended like you cared. If you couldn’t get close without them noticing, then you’d have to improvise…like Daisy was. Still, whatever worked and got you close, worked and got you close.

As you reached into the pocket and found what you were fishing for as your man had passed out, you saw Daisy deeply kissing her man as she seemed to be on autopilot with getting the card and some money out of the pocket.

She seemed to be a pro.

When the two stumbled out, the three counted up the earnings the two of you had gathered.

Was it much? No, but it was a start.

“I can take some things from here, if we can get that out of our way.” At ‘that’ Madison pointed to a camera that was watching you.

“I got that, you take what you can and then we’ll go.” Daisy said, going to probably loop the footage of you all sitting there just moments ago.

That left the two of you.

“So,” Madison started as she poured you a drink and put it on the table, “What brought you home?”

“Something happened at SHIELD. Daisy had to get away from it all. I went with.” You answered as you took a sip of your beer.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave her alone. She’s looked after me all this time I’ve been there, figured I’d return the favour.”

Madison sighed, “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s an even better one.”

There was a drag in the conversation following that. The only sound being you drinking, and her checking pumps and cleaning tables.

“I’m sorry you had to change your name.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Besides, always kind of hoped you’d come back.” She said, stopping what shew as doing and turning to you, a light now in her eyes.

“You did?”

She smiled, “Yeah.” You smiled too.

 Daisy had looped the footage, and the three of you drove to the French Quatre. It was still as lively as ever.

And that meant opportunity, that meant money. That meant making it.

It led you all to an ATM, with cards upon cards. It was close to midnight, and all you three were doing was trying the cards you had gotten. Putting in pins and taking out cash.

You ran out of yet another establishment, this time chased by guards. As you ran, you did see Daisy relax a little, seemed she had gotten something out of this too.

Your feet slammed against the pavement, but you still heard your chasers. Daisy quaked up to the roof, while you and Madison dove right into a dark alley way, just around a corner from where your foes were coming from.

You had lost them.          

Daisy came down to join you. And, for once, the three of you laughed. You checked that the coast was clear one more time, before making your way to the ATM.

You did it, you somehow had just about enough. Daisy gave you a pat on the shoulder, while Madison gave you a peck on the cheek. You missed Daisy’s smile slip just for a second before it was back.

You then got out your phone, dialling the number that had called you.

Marcus answered almost immediately, “What?”

“I got it.” You said, proud of your actions.

He barked out a laugh, “Aye, you did? Well fan-fucking-tastic. Only, you daft cunt, you made a ruck doing it! You got coppers and what not looking for you. Aye, and little ol’ Jenny somehow come back to life, aye? I guess then, if you’re so fucking good at your job, you’d pay off her’s too, eh? See you at 3.” With that, he hung up.

Your smile was gone, “What is it? What’s wrong?” Daisy asked, concern now in her gaze and tone.

“He knows you’re alive.” You said, looking to Madison, who paled, “And he wants your share of the load.” She gulped.

Fuck.

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

“How much do you owe him?” Daisy asked as the three of you sat in Daisy’s van.

“Between us, or separate?” You asked, pointing between yourself and Madison.

“I guess separate.” Daisy answered.

You looked at Madison, the pair of your quickly doing some mental math in your head, “Well, we’ve gotten mine.” You reminded Daisy. She nodded at the answer.

“About 5 grand.” She then looked to Madison.

Finally, Madison answered, “About $36,200 between us.”

Daisy’s eyes widened, “What?!” She sounded like it should be a shriek but was a whisper instead.

“There was a deal. One we did before Y/N got picked up by your lot. Quite a big load of women coming in.” Madison looked to you.

You knew what she wanted; and so, you continued the tale, “We didn’t let it happen. Then SHIELD came and got me. And Madison here…well.” You knew what she did.

“What’d she does?” Daisy pushed.

“Went off grid. New name, same place. Safest place from a Whale is inside its own belly, after all.” Madison seemingly decided to give just enough information.

And it seemed to be enough for Daisy, “So, how long do we have?” She asked.

“With Marcus? He said a few hours –”

“That’s not long enough.” Daisy argued.

“It would’ve been longer if I wasn’t here.” Madison looked down a bit as she said that, like a wounded animal. You grabbed her hand, rubbing your thumb on her knuckles. She looked at you but couldn’t manage a smile.

“Ok. So, we can’t get out without being spotted, and we can’t get the money – well, that amount of money, without getting seen. So, what’s the plan guys?” As you said that, you all ducked down as you heard a cop car go past. Its sirens were blaring as it raced past, so you knew it wasn’t for you; still, couldn’t be too careful.

When it passed, you all slowly got back up, the lights from the street being your only source of light through Daisy’s curtained windows.

Ok, maybe you were starting to get an appreciation for the van life after all.

Still, you had to get the money. You had to have a clean slate. You had to get Madison out of this life.

You looked at Daisy, and she saw that you genuinely cared for Madison. And, despite her first thoughts on the girl, she had grown on her. She saw the light she brought to your eyes.

It was the same way Lincoln brought that same kind of light to her life.

She saw you look out the window, you had a face she had seen before; if this was any other time, she’d go along with whatever you were going to say.

Here, not so much.

“Y/N –” Her tone was tense, there was an edge to it. There was a warning.

“You two stay here and –”

“No!”

“Hell no!” the two women exclaimed in sync. Daisy the former and Madison the latter.

“Y/N, you can’t just –”

“Would you rather we all go out together and risk getting caught? Or splitting up? Look, Daisy, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, ok? Really, I am. But we don’t have a lot of time.” You said as you got a pistol out of your bag.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! The hell are you planning?” Daisy asked, grabbing the pistol and lowering it.

“Desperate time and measures.” You justified it as, putting the pistol in your back pocket, “Look, do you want to the bank, or am I taking it? There’s only three options we have here in the short space of time; and none of them good.”

You then looked to Madison, “I got the streets. Regular and all that.” You nodded, that left Daisy with another option.

She didn’t look pleased, “I’m doing the bank job,” She said, ripping the pistol from you and putting it in her back pocket instead, “You go to the bars we haven’t gotten before. But remember, low profile.” She warned, pointing a finger at both of you.

God, she seemed destined to always play big sister.

You gave her a mock salute, “You’re about to rob a bank, Daisy.”

“Yeah, but I have a name to go with that. If we get too much, we’ll use what we have left to help us against the Watchdogs.” Daisy said, getting out the back of the van before you could argue any further.

You and Madison looked at each other, a silent, “Be careful” being exchanged between you both. You shared one more kiss, before you went your separate ways.

 There was one more bar you hadn’t hit yet. It was a packed one, despite the time it was.

Still, you entered, looking for any sort of prey. Your eyes scanned the crowds, mainly large crowds in the area. Well, that could work in your advantage, but it could also be a hindrance.

Still, you went with “fuck it.” And walked further in, trying not to look like a desperate loser.

Your hand went into one pocket, and you got as far as the car, when a hand grabbed yours: a friend of his. He shook his head, and you put it back. He didn’t tell his friend, he only looked at you with bitter hatred.

That was enough of an arse kicking on its own.

So, no money, and arse kicking and a bar fight later and you were out. You made your way over to the van, seeing Daisy sat in the van, but laying low.

You opened the van back door, only to be punched in the face. Whoever had done that – not Daisy – had taken off running. As you readjusted yourself, your heartbeat rose.

They had the bag.

You got up, not caring about being careful anymore. Desperation ran through you.

You pulled the pistol, running after someone who would – whether they meant to or not – cause your death.

You pulled the trigger, and they went down. You ran, cars stopping and some screeching to a halt. You grabbed the bag the person had. You opened it –

And nothing was inside.

You then heard a van honk, and yours came careening around the corner. It stopped just next to you, “Get in!” Daisy called, with Madison pulling the side door open.

You were in, and you were gone the next moment.

 Either no one had called the cops on you, or they weren’t doing as good as you thought they were. You had gone back to Madison’s bar, and the three of you sat in it; you stared at what you had managed to garner as a three –

“$2,832. And it’s…” Daisy checked her phone, “2:51 am.” Her words came out slower, as she realised how fucked you guys were.

You stood up and started pacing, “I’m sorry, I should never have come back.”

Madison stood up, going to you and holding your hands in your own, “Hey, you know Marcus. Whatever you bring him, ain’t enough. He’d find a way to bleed you dry just like those cards, but he’d keep going,” She grabbed your shoulders, “Y/N, look at me,” You did so, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think…even if we got what he wanted, that it’d be enough. I mean, look at me; I had to change my name and what not. He just works people until they get shot, then calls it off.”

You looked at Madison, and you knew; you knew that she was right. You then looked to Daisy, “Put what we got in the van.”

She tilted her head in a questioning manner, “What you thinking?” She asked, as she pooled all the money with arm and watched it all fall into a bag.

For once, it was almost like old times, with that look on your face returning; and she supported it this time.

It was a face that told her you had a plan.

“We take that money, split it between us. He gets none of it.” You said, looking at your friends and seeing if they’d disagree. They shared a look and nodded in sync.

Ok then, here you went.

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

Daisy had taken the van away a bit, hiding it in a different location that wouldn’t be as easily accessible.

You all waited as the time ticked down. If anything, it seemed to slow down.

Still, after what seemed like 2 hours – but what was really 3 minutes – it was time. The clock silent struck 3.

And, right on time, he entered the bar. He hadn’t really changed, it seemed. Still an old man with a moustache that was well kept but everything else on him – clothing, hair, jewellery – was not.

“So, I’m here. Where the fuck is my money, lass?” He asked.

“We don’t have it. And, even if we did, you wouldn’t get a cent.” You said, standing tall.

He whistled, “Aye? And where’d all this backbone come from then, eh? Because last time we called, you were willing to suck my fucking dick dry to make amends. Now, here you are, telling me I’m not allowed to have my own fucking money?” His temper was rising.

“You wouldn’t be happy with that though, would you?” Daisy asked from where she stood, to your right and leaning against one of the backrests.

Marcus finally looked at her. He looked at a TV that wasn’t on, then back down to her. From her to the tv, from the tv to her.

“You must be the one on the telly, Quake? Or whatever the fuck they call you now?”

Daisy just held his stare.

“This ain’t your fight, lass. Just between me and them two cunts and what they owe, me.” He said, looking at you and clenching his teeth together at the last part of the sentence.

“It is my fight, when it involves my friends.” She said firmly, moving away from the rest and to your side, fists clenched.

Marcus let out what seemed to be a scoff and a laugh all in one; and none having good connotations with them, “Loyal. I’ll give you that. Even if, in this case, not going to pay off the way you want.” He warned her.

The front door opened, with two of his goons coming in. Madison barely had time to turn before she was pinned against her bar.

“Hey –” Daisy said, going to step in, when Marcus waggled his finger.

“Told you.” He said, in a sing song kind of voice.

“Run.” Daisy advised, even pushing you in that direction.

You did, as fast as you could up the stairs to the toilets.

Marcus passed Daisy, “I so much as feel this building shake, and I will fucking kill you all, alright?” He threatened, before coming after you.

You found yourself in one of the cubicles, “You know, Y/N. I always wondered where you went. Then a man by the name of Phil Coulson comes knocking at my door, asking about an agent Y/N and Johnson. Course, I told them the truth…” As he spoked, you saw his feet stop by a cubicle and heard the door be booted open, “That I knew nothing of you. To be honest, thought you were dead. Would’ve been happy with that. Then you show up, and you left me no choice,” He kicked another open; you had nowhere to go, “But, maybe…maybe I can amend that now.” He booted in your door. And, despite your efforts and struggled, he slammed you into the sink. As you saw your own reflection, a cord went around your neck and he hoisted you up into the air before your feet touched the floor, but you were on tiptoes.

In his voice, there was no joy, “Don’t fight this, Y/N. Don’t fight it. This’ll fix everything.”

The door burst open, but he grabbed a pistol and fired at the entrance, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll blow their fucking –” He didn’t get to finish, as you hit him in the guy with your elbow. The cord went from your neck, and you hit him with your head and sent him back.

Madison was next, slamming him in the fist with her fist. As he spun around with the pistol, Daisy quaked it away, before quaking him into the wall. He slumped down.

The three of your shared a look.

Madison had a car – stolen of course – but a car and a home. The three of you carried Marcus’ body down the stairs and outside to the car. You slammed the boot lid closed as the three of you shared a look.

You looked to Madison, pulling her into a hug and putting your chin on her shoulder. You pulled away, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She said with a smile, but it was a sad one.

Daisy then hugged her next, “Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N is my…. friend, too. I’ll get Marcus here somewhere he belongs, then I’ll get a new ride. Heard there’s some good ones moving in.”

You pulled out a key in your back pocket, “Here,” You said, throwing it to Madison, “It’s yours.”

She looked from the key to you, “You serious?” She asked, excitement growing in her tone.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, might as well pay off the debt I can, huh?” She laughed, before hugging you again in thanks. She gave your cheek a kiss, before going to the car and driving off.

 You and Daisy saw the “Thank you for visiting New Orleans!” sign as you drove away. Your phone blinked with a text. Looking at it, you saw it to be Madison: “He’s with the NOPD now :D” The text read.

You looked to Daisy, showing it to her.

She smiled, before moving her hand over to yours and squeezing it and then going back to the wheel.

You were leaving your home, now in your new one for the time being.

But one thing you knew for sure; you had a clean slate. Just not in the way you would’ve expected.

[cxplqnce]

Deke Shaw - The Moment I Knew

Deke is one of my actual favourite characters ever and I never see anything about him so I thought I would write something!

Word Count: 2,421

Summary: When Izel infiltrates SHIELD it brings out secrets and realisations in everyone.

Warnings: Death, blood, etc...

“Great. So everybody just needs to share a secret that she wouldn't know. The more private, the better.” Elena said, looking around at the rest of the team. They had figured out that Izel was in the Lighthouse and could possess people, which wasn’t crazy at all.

“Oh, great.” May groaned.

“Right, but it has to be something that one other person can confirm.” Daisy added.

“Yeah.” Mack started, causing everyone to look up at him, “We'll clear everyone here first, then everyone else in the base. It's the best plan so far.”

Deke shook his head, “Is it the best plan? I talk a lot. I don't have any secrets.”

“Yeah, you do.” You replied. You and Deke had been dating in secret for a few months now. You had decided not to tell the team because neither of you were sure whether or not it was going to go anywhere and Deke was nervous about what Jemma and Fitz would think about the two of you.

Deke shook his head at you, “No. no, I can’t.” He defended but you gave him a pleading look and he sighed, “Y/N and I are dating. We have been for a few months.” He said.

“I can confirm that.” You added.

“Okay, right. Deke, you’re good. Y/N, secret?” Mack asked.

“I tell everyone I’m an only child but I’m not.” You started.

Davis sighed, “Because your brother was Hydra.” He finished for you, looking over at your saddened expression. Deke grabbed your hand and gave it a slight squeeze to make sure you were okay.

“Okay. Um... I, uh, tell people that the only time I miss Pitosí is during Christmas, but that's not exactly true.” Elena stated.

“It's not?” Mack questioned.

“No, it's not. She told me.” May answered.

“There's one day every year where I miss him more.”

May looked at Elena with a sad look, similar to the one Davis had given you, “Your mother's birthday.”

“That's May.” Elena confirmed, “She's good, too.”

“Okay, um... Daisy anonymously sends part of her S.H.I.E.L.D. salary to someone every month.” Mack started.

Daisy looked down at the ground and cleared her throat, “Amanda Campbell, Lincoln's sister. Mack's clear.”

“So are you. Will you and Yo-Yo come with me for a moment?” Mack asked, leading Daisy and Elena into the director’s office. Once they had both walked in he locked the door.

“Mack! Mack. What's this?” Daisy and Elena protested.

Mack turned to face the rest of the group, “Hear me out. These are new security measures. They're locked in.”

“I can still break through this glass.” Daisy retorted.

Mack looked back at the two girls, “But Izel can't... I hope.”

“You just locked up our two strongest assets against her.” Davis interjected.

“No. He locked the two strongest weapons she could use against us.” May confirmed. £Imagine if she got in one of them. If Izel got your powers, we're all dead.”

“You two stay in there until we catch her, no matter what. You understand?” Mack ordered, causing Daisy and Elena to slowly nod.

“Maybe this is a trick. Maybe she's in you.” Deke suggested.

“He knew what to ask Daisy.” Elena said through the glass, her voice coming out muffled.

“Easy there, hotshot.” Mack said to Davis. You looked down and saw that his hand was on his gun, “You're next.”

Davis looked around the room, “I knew Y/N’s, plus I don't have any secrets anyone here would...”

“Yes, you do. When we were on Krylor, you took something.” Daisy cut him off.

“You knew about that?”

“I was running that mission. I knew everything. Also, you're not smooth... like, at all.”

“I stole a pen.”

“A pen?” May asked.

“A space pen. I thought it was cool. Aliens write things down. I did not know that.” Davis answered, causing you to let out a stifled chuckle at his answer.

“He's clear. And also ridiculous.” Daisy groaned.

At that moment Piper entered the room, “The alien’s inside Deke.” She accused.

“We cleared Deke.” You defended, “It’s not him.”

“Oh, really. I blacked out today... for about an hour. When I woke up, Deke was there. I put together all the pieces.” She said, stepping closer to Deke, with her hand on her gun.

Deke let go of your hand and stepped closer too, “Hold on. I-I lost time today, too, and the last thing I remember before it happened was seeing Piper, so maybe she's Izel.”

“Oh, that sounds exactly like something Izel would say.” Piper argued back.

“Well, so does that. I know I'm me. I don't know who you are.” Deke yelled.

“Fitz. What about you?” Mack said, interrupting the fight between Deke and Piper.

Fitz looked up at Mack and then between Piper and Deke, “Well, it's perfectly clear that it’s one of these two…”

“Yeah, but still... Where was Simmons undercover the first time we met?” Mack asked.

A scoff came from Fitz’s lips as he crossed his arms, “You're asking a lot of questions. Everybody knows the smartest thing she could do... would be to go for the Director. Wouldn't happen to be you by any chance, would it?”

“Fitz. Where was Simmons?” May asked, stepping closer to him.

“You don't know the answer, do you?” Mack asked.

All of a sudden, Izel appeared, causing you to grab onto Deke’s hand again. Everyone was shocked to see her so stepped back and held out their guns. Deke stepped in front of you, protectively, even though you knew you could take care of yourself you were glad Deke was there.

“What happened?” Fitz asked, raising his hands up.

“Things don't have to be painful. They can be so easy. I just need to know who has the most power.” Izel said, looking around at the team.

Izel then jumped into Piper, who started to speak, “You all seem like friends, so let's be smart about this. Just give me what I want.” She started before moving into Deke’s body.

You jumped back away from Deke as she spoke, “And I'll be on my way. Easy.”

Mack reached forward and grabbed Deke’s neck. “Mack!” You yelled.

“No, Mack! Mack. Wait, wait.” Fitz warned as everyone got closer to them, except you.

“Maybe if I hurt him, she'll come out.” Mack threatened.

Deke – or Izel – smiled evilly at Mack, “Does that seem like a good plan, my dear?” she asked, chuckling before she jumped into Mack who was still choking Deke.

“I can kill any of you anytime I want.” He said, releasing one of his hands but keeping the other on Deke’s throat and turning towards Daisy and Elena, “Why don't you come out and stop me? What makes you so special?”

Elena grunted and hit the glass, “Don't. They need us. They're safer with us in here. You heard what Mack said.” Daisy warned her as Davis started climbing up the stairs gun in hand.  

Izel jumped out of Mack’s body, “Things happen fast, don't they?” She said. Mack released Deke and both you and Fitz ran to him. Fitz gave you a questioning look and you replied with a quick, ‘Explain later.’ As you both took him up the stairs a bit.

“Hard to keep up.” She said. You heard Elena and Daisy say something unintelligible and you pulled out your gun, coming nearer to her. “Oh, bad idea, love.” Was the last thing you heard before she took you over.

The rest of the team watched as you shot yourself in the hand under Izel’s control. Deke yelled out for you, trying to get out of Fitz’s grip.

“No! Y/N, no! No!” Deke shouted, pulling at Fitz’s arm.

“Do you understand yet? Do you see how things could be much worse? All I need is someone with access. And then, poof... I'm gone.” You said.

“Davis, take the shot.” Mack said to him.

Davis looked at you, you had been friends for years, you met because he was friends with your brother and you had gone through your brother’s betrayal and death together, “I can't shoot Y/N, Director.” He whimpered.

“You just have to wound her. I'll finish Izel when she comes out.” Mack confirmed.

“Don't make him do something we'll all regret... Director.” You said.

“Davis, now!” Mack yelled, however, Izel jumped from your body into May’s, then Deke’s and Fitz’s before she reached Davis. You looked around at the current situation, putting the pieces together of what you had missed and clutched your hand, which was bleeding profusely.

He cocked his gun at Fitz before saying, “I did warn you... it could be worse.” Davis’s body moved onto the railing.

You sat on the bottom step clutching your hand. “Don't! What are you doing to him?” You said.

“So brave. And so fragile.” He said before pulling herself out of Davis’ body and letting his fall to the floor.

“No! No!!” Everyone screamed as he landed with a loud thud. Everyone ran to Davis. You sat frozen in shock, your hand bleeding as you saw a man you’d come to consider a brother fall limp and dead. Once Deke could reach you, he grabbed onto you and pulled you into a hug as Izel possessed Mack.

He put the gun against his head, “Do not follow me. I'd hate for there to be more casualties.” He said before leaving the room.

•••••

Daisy and Elena got out of the office as May alerted the Lighthouse to the current situation. You couldn’t move, or breathe, you felt as if everything was about to explode. Deke was wrapping up your hand as Daisy and Elena left to find Mack. Deke took it upon himself to tell Fitz about the two of you, and he was really accepting, not that Deke thought he would be. May then called Fitz up to her to talk about Izel.

Deke looked at you, as you sat by Davis’ body with Piper, not knowing what to do. Deke made sure you were goo with Piper before he got up to talk with May and Fitz.

“You, okay?” Piper asked, you looked up at her with tears in your eyes. “I mean, I was his friend but you were like his sister.”

“It’s like losing my brother all over again.” You replied. “I never thought I’d lose him too.”

Piper put her hand on yours and pulled you into her side. “You’ve lost way too much. But, you and Deke, wow. Never saw that coming.” She said, trying to take your mind of it.

You smiled at the mention of Deke’s name, “Yeah, I used to think he was a complete idiot but now I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You said, looking up at Deke who was lost in conversation, you then looked back at Davis, “Davis knew. He was the only one. I had to tell him.”

“He loved you so much.” Piper responded.

You looked back at her, “He loved you too.” She nodded at you and you both just sat in silence for a while.

•••••

Once Davis’ body bag had been taken away, you had gone back to your room to be left alone with your thoughts until there was a knock at your door.

“Come in.” You whimpered. The door opened and Jemma entered with a bag, which she set on the table before shutting the door behind her. “Hi.”

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, opening her bag and taking stuff out. She beckoned you over to her so you went to sit on the couch and lifted your hand to her. Amidst the chaos, you’d almost forgotten about the whole in your hand. She unwrapped the bandage to see that the hole and started to shrink. “That’s nasty, but don’t worry. You heal fast.” She said. That was your power. You were a mutant and your power was fast healing, you could also help to heal other people but unfortunately not bring back the dead. “So,” Jemma started, changing the subject, “You and Deke, huh?”

You smiled, slightly, “He told you?”

“He did. He’s very worried about you.” Jemma said, cleaning your wound.

You flinched from the pain, “Of course he is. He’s the best.”

Jemma smiled, grabbing a bandage and starting to wrap your hand up, “He said that you’d asked to be left alone?”

“Yeah, I just, everyone’s busy working and I don’t think I can join them right now, you know, I miss Davis. It’s only been what thirty minutes but I miss him. I couldn’t do anything to help him. I couldn’t…” You confessed, trailing off as another flood of tears started to fall from your eyes.

“Maybe that’s why you shouldn’t be alone. You can’t blame yourself, Y/N.” She said, finishing the bandage and packing up her bag. “I’ll get Deke, then, yeah?” You nodded as she left the room.

You didn’t have to wait long before there was another knock at your door. Deke opened the door and came in, giving you a weak smile. “Nana said you wanted to see me.”

You nodded, another tear falling down your cheek. “Could you just come here, please?” You asked. He obeyed your request and sat down next to you. You laid your head on his chest and put your arms around his waist. He followed your lead and lent back on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know, when she was in you, I was so scared of what she’d do and then when she shot you… I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” Deke confessed, “I know it’s worse for you, though. With Davis. But he loved you, yeah. I saw how you two were. If I’m being completely honest, I was kind of threatened by him when I first met you. I liked you and I thought he did too.”

You smiled, “Thank you for being here, Deke. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Same here.” He started, “Today, I realised something, Y/N. Something important.”

“What?” You asked.

“I love you. I’m in love with you.” He stated, your eyes widened and you moved to look into his eyes, “My mum always used to tell me that I would just know, there’d be a moment. The moment I would know. That moment was when I saw you in danger and I couldn’t do anything. That was the moment I knew that I loved you.”

You smiled a little, “I love you too, Deke.”

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that leads up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 16: Deke

Leo Fitz had convinced himself that there would never be a time when he wouldn’t be furious at Owen randomly calling them in the middle of the night like the complete idiot he was. For some reason, the lad liked to take advantage of the fact that he was married to his daughter in order to prank him endlessly. Truly, the man was relentless.

So when his phone rang at 3am in the morning, he begrudgingly sat up (patting his wife’s arms away) and answered.

“What?”

Owen’s panicked voice came crashing into his ear. “Fitz, thank god! Alya’s started having contractions, I’m about to take her to the hospital. I… I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do, Fitz!”

All grogginess had disappeared in an instant. Eyes wide, Fitz silently shook his wife awake. “Owen, first of all, calm down. If my daughter’s going into labour then you need to at least get a bloody hold of yourself.”

Jemma sat up in an instant and pressed her ear against the other side of the phone. Fitz pushed her away and put it on speaker mode.

“Okay… okay. I can do that. I can be strong. Oh god, no I can’t.”

“Owen?” Jemma asked, rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Alya? Is she okay?”

There was a loud moan from the other end before Owen replied. “Y-Yeah, she’s fine. We’re just about to leave. She wanted me to ring you guys first, s-so can you let my parents know? We’ve got to leave as soon as we can.”

“Stop talking on the bloody phone then!” Fitz yelled as Jemma slid out of the covers and immediately started packing a suitcase.

“Okay, we’ll be in the hospital. Manchester.” And Owen hung up.

There were a few blissful moments where it felt like the world had frozen around him before it was kickstarted back into motion when his wife was dropping his laptop onto his lap.

“Get the earliest flights to Manchester, now! Come on!”

Being extremely grateful for the fact that his daughter had moved back into the UK, just over an hour’s flying distance from their home, Fitz obeyed.

As he typed in his details, he heard Jemma speaking on her phone.

“Bobbi? Yes, hello! Alya’s giving birth, so try and get here ASAP!”

~-.-~

Waiting. Fitz hated waiting. He was an impatient person, he knew that. But still. Waiting was horrible. Waiting in a hospital was even worse.

Due to the fact that the baby decided to make its presence known rather late (how Deke of it) a cesarean section was needed. As uncomfortable as Fitz and Jemma were about the prospect that their daughter would be undergoing a huge operation, as any parent would be, they didn’t object.

They could only wait until the procedure was complete and Alya was comfortably in her room before they were allowed to visit.

And so they waited. The earliest Bobbi and Hunter could arrive was that night, so for the good part of the day they were the only ones there to support their daughter and son-in-law.

Speaking of, Owen emerged from one of the doors, openly crying, and made his way towards them.

Fitz sat there with bated breath as he waited for Owen to compose himself and just say something.

“It’s a boy.”

And the world just… stopped.

~-.-~

His feet glided against the tiles as they meandered through the corridors of the hospital as if he was in a dream. All surrounding noise was cancelled out. Holding hands with his dear wife, they counted the room numbers until they finally reached room 501.

Fitz lifted his hand to knock, but his hand began to shake fervently. He turned to Jemma in a desperate plea, and she smiled at him sympathetically and gently knocked for both of them.

Owen opened the door and stepped aside.

Fitz’s heart stopped. The room itself was surprisingly nice; patterned curtains, a bouquet of flowers on the windowsill, a bunch of Alya and Owen’s possessions littered around.

But both Fitz and Jemma’s focus was on their daughter, all snuggled up in the hospital’s white sheets. Or, more specifically, the tiny bundled-up figure sleeping on her chest.

Alya, evidently still exhausted from both the anesthetic and the overall excitement of the moment, smiled up at her parents wearily with shining eyes.

“Mr and Mrs Fitz-Simmons?” Owen announced in the quietest voice Fitz had ever heard from him, stepping around the bed to gently stroke the back of his son’s head. “Meet Deke Shaw.”

Fitz watched as Jemma approached them, cautiously stretching a hand towards her grandson, before changing her mind and stroking Alya’s head instead.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, examining her daughter’s face for any signs of discomfort. Luckily, there was none, but she still wiped away some of the tear tracks.

“I’m fine, Mum.” Alya smiled the brightest smile her parents had seen in years. “I just gave birth to my son.”

“You’re grandparents now.” Owen commented, stepping back to allow Jemma to get closer.

She still seemed hesitant. “Can I hold him?”

Alya nodded and gently lifted the sleepy mass from her body and handed him to Jemma, whispering “This is your Nana” as she did so.

Jemma had always been good at handling objects delicately, she was a biochemist after all, but Fitz had never seen her handle anything so carefully as she did with the little baby. Not even Alya.

She cradled him in her arms. “You’re wonderful, aren’t you?” She cooed to the child with the mop of golden hair. “Our little angel.”

That little angel decided that would be the perfect moment to dramatically wake up and start crying.

“Oh, no no no!” Jemma shushed, moving him to her shoulder so she could rub his back. Deke just wailed even louder, and it was an extremely annoying sound that grated against the ears. “Don’t cry! I know it’s a lot to take in, but…”

She trailed off when she realised what the baby was actually looking at. Fitz was still frozen at his spot near the door.

“Here, you hold him.” She said, holding the baby out towards him.

It took Fitz a good few seconds to process what Jemma was suggesting. He… could he really touch that little thing? Was it real? Not some sort of cruel trick of the mind his arch-nemesis the universe decided to throw at him?

He couldn’t think for too long, because the screaming only got louder.

Reluctantly, he took the baby and cradled him as Jemma had. Deke gradually stopped crying.

“He likes you.” Alya said tiredly from the bed. “Do you know who that is, Deke?”

Fitz found himself entranced by the little face staring up at him curiously.

“Hey there little guy,” he said, finally breaking into a smile, “I’m your Bobo.”

[nellie-elizabeth]

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.: The End Is at Hand/What We're Fighting For (7x12/13)

And so we're at the end! Let's dive in.

Cons:

I wish I could give a different response, but a lot of this finale had me feeling a little cold. It's not that it was bad, but all the time spent on Kora and Garrett and on other characters who I don't give a shit about... it felt wasted to me. Kora showing up, and the whole "hello sister" thing, like she's Damon from The Vampire Diaries or some shit... and the redemption arc... all of it felt so telegraphed, and so unsatisfying, seeing as Kora is a new character who we haven't had time to get to know. Daisy's emotional arc ends up being about two characters who were only introduced in this season: Daniel and Kora. I liked the stuff with Sousa, but come on! It's supposed to be about family or whatever... Kora is brand new, there was no time to make it land.

The fact that the whole plan hinges on Kora, and on connecting with Daisy... I loved what Daisy said in last week's episode, about how Simmons is her sister and that's where her focus should be. Found Family > A stranger that you just met who happens to share blood with you. Yikes.

And then I thought about the characters they chose to bring back, and the characters that didn't get even a mention. What about Bobbi and Hunter, for goodness' sake?!

Now that I've seen the whole season, I feel like May's character was really wasted here at the end. I like the idea behind her journey, of coming to terms with her emotions through this new lens. That stuff is all well and good. But I can't help feeling a little bit like she just hung out in the background being blank-faced and then at the end she has some good talks with Coulson about how she's really changed and grown, and that's it? Sure, they gave the Chronicoms "empathy" but that felt more like May was a Chekov's gun, not a satisfying character growth moment for her.

"This is the team's last mission" and "this is the last time we'll all be in the same room"... literally why, though? Okay, sure, the band is breaking up, the team is disbanding, people are moving on to new phases of their lives. That's fine. But nothing about how this show ended made it seem like they'd actually never be in the same room together. Why can't they have real in-person reunions?

And speaking of? I feel like I'm going to be in the minority here, but I hated the epilogue stuff. Like... truly, intensely, hated. The facts of the situation are fine. Daisy and Sousa are off in space with Kora. That's fine. May is teaching. Cool. Fitz and Simmons have retired and are just focusing on their family. Love it. Coulson is seeing the world. Mack and Yo-Yo are still at work. All of that makes sense.

But remember when Daisy got all choked up, talking about how she didn't want them to become people who used to be close, who would catch up every once in a while and that was it? Well... that scene, where they all holograph in for a meeting, was exactly that. It wasn't bittersweet, it was just awkward and bitter. The conversation felt incredibly stilted, and everyone was being so wistful and weird and saying awkward dramatic stuff to one another. I think a much better tone would have been set if instead of this "one year later" awkward sit-down, we'd had a bunch of rapid-fire little moment showing their connection, like Simmons saying to Fitz, "oh, don't let me forget to send that research to Daisy," and then Daisy could be in the middle of something and conference in to ask May a question about something, and May could casually mention that Coulson was going to be stopping by soon, and Daisy should conference in to see him, and then Mack could be on the phone with Yo-Yo when he gets a text message from Fitz... like just moments to show that they've all moved on to new things in their lives, but their worlds are still connected. Instead we got something that felt incredibly staged, incredibly sentimental, and read more like a bunch of actors sitting around saying goodbye to a TV show they were on, instead of characters being their authentic selves.

Pros:

Fitzsimmons backstory was appropriately sweet, of course. I mean, everyone knew Fitzsimmons had a secret baby, but it was still adorable and I loved the little actress and the backstory, and Fitz walking Simmons through her memories to help build a bridge back to their family was really sweet and very authentically them. I also loved Piper and Flint guarding the kid while Fitz and Simmons were off saving the world.

Deke was... the highlight of the finale, for real. When he said "Alright people, I've already made up my mind, let's get to it!" I legitimately got chills and teared up a little bit. This is how you do an epic sacrifice without always making it death. We didn't need a main character to die in this finale in order to make it epic and intense and impactful. Deke staying behind? After all the work he put in, after all he did to belong? It works. It's appropriately tragic, that they'll never see each other again, but it's not too devastating, because Deke is the master of making himself at home wherever he is. He's already a rock god in the eighties, and you just know he'll make it work. The one thing I was bummed about is that he didn't get more of a connection with Fitz there at the end. It felt like he really craved Fitz's approval the whole time, and never really quite got it... and then he spent this last season without seeing him, and then they were separated forever. Kind of a bummer, but I guess you can't have everything!

I know that the "cons" section on this one was pretty long, but that doesn't mean I didn't have fun with this finale. The framing of the epilogue was really bad, in my opinion, but the endgame fates of the characters all worked really nicely for me. I especially liked how Coulson and May are in this comfortable "maybe" place and that's where we end them. Coulson is going to swing by and see May, but they're not a couple, and maybe they won't be, but maybe they will... it works for them. They were never the most showy, dramatic characters in the world, and this soft epilogue for them works so nicely. Ending it with Coulson in the car was... really a perfect button on things.

I also think Daisy and Sousa are sweet. I will never stop being bitter about Peggy Carter, of course, but this actually worked nice, and I love that actor, and Daniel is such a lovely character... so I'm happy he's happy, and I'm happy Daisy is out there with her boyfriend (and her sister), winning at life. Mack and Sousa had a cute little bromance going, and I'm sure they stay in touch and tease Daisy about "Quake" for a long time to come.

Everything about the villains had me YAWNING, but I did like Coulson pulling that final trick on Sybil and the day eventually being saved. There were some good bad-ass moments, like Yo-Yo doing her slow-mo fighting, and May pulling out the Cavalry skills to overpower their enemies.

I feel like I don't have much else to say. A lot of things about this finale didn't quite land with me, and I felt like the sentimental tone didn't have its intended effect. But that being said, all my faves got a happy ending, and I can feel grateful for that!

This finale gets...

7/10

The show overall? Oh boy. I've rarely been more torn. The first season of this show was one of the more bizarre/intense viewing experiences of my life. If you go back and read my reviews, you'll know I was not enjoying myself at ALL. But then the twist with Ward hit, and my veins lit up. Skye went from being one of the most annoying characters on television to a dynamic, empowering woman who I was happy to follow for seven years' worth of story. Fitzsimmons is a genuinely good love story, about people who beat the odds no matter what. The found family vibes are real, and I love them. But that first part of the first season, and these last few seasons, have been disjointed. They've been all over the place. There have been good additions (Flint, Deke, Sousa, Enoch), and there have been bad or lazy ones (Kora, basically every villain in this last season that wasn't a Chronicom). I think at the end of the day I'll give the whole show a grade based on how excited I always was to watch it. There were weeks that I didn't really care to find out what happened next, and weeks where I eagerly counted down the minutes. I guess by definition, that makes this show a mixed bag!

7.5/10

[vulpinmusings]

Letters from Buxcord #3 - Bayou Basilisk

Mystery 3 of my group Monster of the Week campaign (See Episodes 1 and 2 here) concluded last night, wherein we had a most unpleasant experience in the local bayou.

Samantha,

I’ve struggled over whether or not to write this letter for weeks, uncertain if it’s worth the effort if I can’t even send it or the previous ones to you.  I just decided to keep carrying on for two reasons: because I know you’ll want to know my stories once I return and I’ll appreciate having these letters on hand as notes, and because writing them will make me retain a hope of returning eventually.  

I make a promise, I will get back to Taryn.

I just don’t know if it’ll be through my own efforts.

So, why was I so down?  I went to see Madam Weaver to see if she was as informed as her note claimed.  She lives in a somewhat run-down part of Buxcord, but her own house is in great shape.  Weaver’s an older lady and definitely well attuned to the ways of magic, although I can’t quite place what her personal style is yet.  She gave me some insight into this universe’s magic, and apparently the streams are individually far more potent than I’m accustomed to using, so my issues are less a matter of mis-aligned Weaving than creating overloaded Weaves.  That’s going to take a fair bit of time to adjust to; I may have to unlearn everything I’ve assumed about the ratio of strings in a Weave to the power and versatility of spells.

It could also be a result of magic not being as widely used here as it is in Taryn or most of the ‘verses along the Chain, or part of the fallout of recent events. Madam Weaver told me that not too long ago, but before I arrived in this universe, there had been an explosion of magic on the scale of a uranium bomb which had caused a kind of “refreshing” of the magical energy in the world.  That wave I suffered through prior to the incident with the pig-faced murder ghost might have been an aftershock of that explosion; if so, it’s the first one to have occurred.

None of that is what distressed me though.  What did it was Madam Weaver’s knowledge of inter-universe portals.  To summarize, if I wanted to create a stable portal to Taryn from Buxcord, I would need to sacrifice something that originates from my destination universe. Something more… substantial than some of my cards or other personal possessions. I’d have to give up part of myself.  The only other option right now is to sit tight and wait for someone – be it Rubia or that skvetchte Raposinho that got me into this mess in the first place or our friends at the end of the Chain – to figure out how to pinpoint my location in the multiverse and cast a portal my way.  And that without any of you actually having this letter in front of you to inform you of my situation!

Also, “True Name” magic is apparently more than just a charlatan's facade for coercion techniques in this universe.  I haven’t had any reason to question my defenses against such things here yet, except for the fact that I did get mind-controlled that one time by a form of magic I still don’t fully grasp...

Bah re...

Might as well put what just happened into this letter, try to end it on a more upbeat note.

Although magic is not a commonly accepted reality around here, I’ve managed to establish enough of a reputation as a solver of problems to pull in enough money to afford the rent on an apartment.  You’d laugh to see how empty it is, but I at least managed to acquire a couch so I have somewhere soft to sleep.  A few days after moving in, I was awakened by a knock on my door.  It was a young man leaning on a cane, one of my new neighbors who goes by Rocky.  He asked me for my help in locating his missing twin brother, William, who had left the previous evening claiming a sudden need to test one of the new boats at Bayou Boating, and had not returned.  Always eager to be doing something, and needing a bit of a refresher to the finances, I set off immediately.

My first clue that things were going to be more interesting than a simple missing person’s case was bumping into the ever-uncanny Nollthep just outside Bayou Boating.  Once again, the fellow was on an errand for his mysterious boss, who wanted a mage to lend them a hand.

I must admit, I’m growing slightly suspicious of Nollthep.  Last time we worked together, he was seeking a Wiccan, and after the pig-face was dealt with I saw Penelope Clemonte’s name on the official list of its victims, when I know she was in perfect health.  Now, here Nollthep was looking for a mage and being very intent on the word “hand.”  Partly out of my ever-honest nature and partly out of a desire to try and protect any innocents, I volunteered that I am a mage.

We went inside the Bayou Boating storefront to find the last member of the unofficial “Buxcord Weirdness Magnet” trio, Lea, observing the company’s boss, Fitz, dressing down two of his employees over a missing boat.  When questioned, none of them knew where William was but were willing to believe he was responsible for the missing boat.  Fitz had already called in the police and was in a very bad mood, so it took a lot of fast-talk and at least one dose of Lea’s charm magic to convince him to let us go out into the bayou with another of his precious fan-driven boats.  He only agreed on the condition that one of the employees, Piper, came with us and drove the boat.

Nollthep, in his usual straightforward style, dragged poor Piper out to the boat and hacked the mooring rope apart before anyone could make a move to untie it properly.  As we started out, following the usual route used for testing new boats, Piper and Lea realized they knew each other from early childhood and spent a while catching up.  I didn’t pay them too much mind, being more focused on looking for signs of William and his boat.  I don’t recall what I said, exactly, but some comment I made to Nollthep’s rambling prompted him to pull out his own eyes and swap them around, much to Lea’s horror. Somehow, Piper failed to notice the trick. How Nolly’s managed to last so long with next to nobody suspecting him of not being human, I may never know.

As we drove by the second of many islands in the bayou, we spotted a boat upturned on the shore.  Piper brought us in for a closer look, but after a thorough search of the island we found no signs of William or any other human presence.  As we boarded our boat, I saw Rocky in the near distance in a small motor boat, so we went over to ask him what he was doing.  After all, he’d asked me to do the bulk of the foot-work.  As Piper was helping him onto our craft, Lea spotted something moving in the water and floored the accelerator, nearly knocking the rest of us off our feet, and ramping off the back of the 20-foot long python that was starting to breach the surface.  As she was not sitting in the driver’s chair, Lea’s control over the boat was lacking, and we ended up whirling around and crashing into the snake and throwing everyone but Rocky into the water.  Nollthep sank like a rock and stayed under for a few seconds before teleporting himself back onto the boat.  As for myself, I managed to call up a swell of water to shove the snake back long enough for Rocky to drive over to us. Nollthep locked eyes with the snake and froze for a crucial moment before throwing a handful of his exploding powder, buying enough time for Piper to get out of the water.  As Lea was trying to follow suit, however, the snake charged in and slammed the boat, launching Lea into the air, where she proceeded to defy gravity until Rocky hooked his cane around her ankle and pulled her in.

The snake – basilisk, rather, for that’s what I soon determined it was – tried to wrap me in its coils as I struggled toward the boat, but Nollthep caught it around the neck with his chain of handkerchiefs, freeing me to climb back aboard and give the basilisk a perfunctory fireball in the face. Piper took control of the boat and whipped us around to head back to the docks at speed.  The basilisk made chase as Nollthep threw his cards at it to try and convince it to leave.  It didn’t break off, though, until Rocky leaned against Nolly for balance, raised his cane, and channeled a beam of ice magic through it at the basilisk.

I do seem to be attracting all the local mages as hoped, albeit slowly and sporadically.

The police still hadn’t arrived when we returned, and Fitz was none too happy to learn we’d basically accomplished nothing of note.  William was still MIA, the stolen boat was still marooned, and there was skvetchte big snake swimming around Bayou Boating’s tour area.  Actually, the snake bothered him far less than it should have, since he declared he fully intended to open the tours in two days’ time as scheduled, man-eating snake or no man-eating snake.

As we stepped outside to discuss our next move, Nollthep unexpectedly blinked away for about a minute and returned with a white dove that took an immediate and insistent interest in me and Rocky.  Nollthep claimed the bird, which he called Sven, was a new friend, but he seemed nervous and more jittery than usual with it around.

I wanted to consult with Madam Weaver about how to deal with the basilisk, to confirm its weaknesses and find out where to obtain what we would need, but I was uncertain about introducing her to Nollthep just yet, so I convinced him and Lea to let me go alone.  The Madam informed me that basilisks are fatally allergic to weasel blood and griffon tears and that the lab that had produced the Santa-squatch and not-deer from back around Yuletide might be able to provide the materials.

When I returned to Bayou Boating, I found Lea yelling at Nollthep about him attempting to kidnap Rocky via teleport and misplacing the man.  The police had also arrived in my absence and Lea had barely managed to convince them there was a dangerous snake in the bayou, so they were waiting on Animal Control rather than heading out in their own boat.

After assisting Lea in brow-beating Nolly into teleporting around town to find Rocky, Lea and I made our way to the lab.  Nollthep popped into the lab well ahead of us, much to the annoyance of Professor Thomas, before rejoining us just outside and proceeding to annoy the professor again via the intercom.  I shoved Nolly aside and told the professor our reason for coming, and he invited Lea and me in.  Nollthep had to stay outside, as Thomas believed he’d done something bad to the former Professor Case.  So, that was another mark against Nolly…

As it turns out, Professor Thomas’s lab holds a wide variety of tissue and fluid samples from all kinds of creatures, mundane and Mythic, explaining where Case had acquired the materials to make his Christmas monsters.  Thomas handed over a vial of weasel blood without much comment, but was hesitant to give up his only sample of griffon tears, as he was hoping to use them to save the beasts from either current or eminent extinction.  We managed to come to an agreement: I could have the tears in exchange for bringing Thomas a sample from the basilisk, Nollthep, or both.  It was a fair enough deal.

Back at Bayou Baoting, Lea went inside to work her magic on Fitz so we could take a boat out again. While she was doing that, Nollthep got the bright idea of building a boat of our own using the wood from the docks.  He ripped out a good part of a pier before I managed to stop him, and he only did a half-baked job at fixing the damage, all the while twitching under the stare of the dove that I’m sure is not actually a dove which was still insisting on using me as a perch.

Lea came back with Piper in tow, and we launched back into the bayou.  As we neared the island where we’d found the basilisk the first time, Nollthep saw something hanging in a tree and swam over for a closer look.  As the boat drew nearer, I saw Rocky’s cane floating in the water, fished it out, and then looked up to see that it was Rocky himself stuck in the tree.  I tried to levitate him down, but I must have over-corrected for the power difference because the spell fizzled quickly.  Lea jumped out to catch Rocky and wound up floating under her own power again.  As I held out the cane for them to use to haul themselves back aboard, the basilisk’s head emerged from behind the tree and locked eyes with me.

Some say the stare of a basilisk is instant death, but I can say with authority that the Buxcord variety at least merely instills a partial paralysis.  Lea panicked and tried to fly away, dropping Rocky onto the boat and drawing the beast’s attention.  It lunged at her as Nollthep, who had teleported back to the boat, tried to hit it with his explosive powder and only succeeded in momentarily blinding everyone on board.

While I struggled to overcome the double disadvantage of sluggish muscles and abused retinas, the basilisk bit Lea in the leg and pulled her into the water. She she reacted by causing a nearby tree to slam into and ensnare the snake.  As Lea climbed aboard the boat, Nollthep lassoed the basilisk to try and pull it closer and I applied a Tangler to twist its head around for a dose of weasel blood and griffon’s tears.

Lea, in a panic and maybe a bit delirious from basilisk venom, attempted to fly away.  Nollthep pulled her back to the boat so he and Rocky could attempt first-aid. Nollthep revealed a rare moment of actual knowledge in attempting the method of sucking the venom out of Lea’s wounds, which he actually managed to do.  He then swallowed the venom, revealing the incompleteness of his knowledge.  Rocky’s contribution was to try and seal the bite wound with ice.

As this was going on, I was force-feeding the basilisk.  The weasel blood and griffon tears didn’t kill it immediately, but it still had a violent reaction. Convulsions and blood from the mouth, all that good “dying from the inside out” stuff.  Lea and I sped the process up via another tree slammed into the basilisk’s back and an explosive fireball to the head.

Meanwhile, Nollthep tried to expel the venom from his system as quickly as possible and shed around half his skin in the process, much to Rocky’s disgust.

I grabbed a floating chunk of basilisk from the water and bit of Nolly hide, figuring there was no sense in not giving Thomas both of the things he’d requested if they were both available.

Once we got back to shore, Rocky and Piper loaded Lea into a golf cart and took her to the hospital, adamantly denying Nollthep’s request to join them.  Once the two of us were alone, putting aside that creepy dove, I took the opportunity to lay out a long list of advice for Nollthep regarding his erratic, uncanny, and decidedly not-human behavior.  He thanked me for the input, and we went our separate ways.

I had pegged Nollthep for a non-human from the start, and that engendered a feeling of camaraderie with him, but I find myself starting to question the wisdom of treating him as an ally.  Even ignoring his version of normal behavior, which has grown harder and harder to excuse over the months, there have been two instances of people who Nollthep has shown high interest in and survived encounters with dangerous entities only to later come to harm.  Once is chance and twice is coincidence, but if something happens to Rocky or someone at Bayou Boating…

I’m not sure what I’ll do, yet, but it probably won’t end well.

So much for upbeat endings.

- Ash

[misfitsluug]

| 3 | callmefitz

mm yes, it’s only the third chapter and i make angsty shit, this is fine uwu also this chapter long wjbfhsd sorry if it’s kinda weird, i wrote this at 2am

/ cameron. /

▕▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▏

不安: apprehension.

anxiety or fear that something bad or unpleasant will happen.

eg: "I felt sick with apprehension."

(t.w - blood, bullies, drug mention.)

-

recap:

"No no, it doesn't ruin it at all. I'm glad we both like that garden." "Wanna hang out there after this class? I'm down to skip my last class whenever." "Hm, I don't know. I'm really going to have to think about this. Man, I've never thought this hard before in my life, what should I say?"

"Probably yes."

"Then yes, I would love to hang out there."

-

"The first thing we need to do, is we need to talk to a friend of mine," Carson explained, a smile on his face as he placed his hand on my shoulder. I decided to skip my seventh class like any other junior student. I mean, I got nothing else better to do, might as well hang out with Carson. "Is it that one guy I saw when I gave back your ruler?"

"Uh yes! It's okay, I got it all under control. He usually comes out to ask where Connor's at."

"Oh, that's pretty cool-"

"Carson! Hey, Carson has Connor-" His face changed, a gasp escaped him and a surprised smile his face formed. "Oh my gosh, Carson. You're a fucking madman! You're braver than I thought."

"Schlatt, you're gonna get in trouble if you keep shouting. You're ditching your own class to hang out with your partner in crime."

"Yeah? And what about you two, where are you guys off too?" Schlatt walked closer, I hesitated to answer but Carson answered for me. "We're going to that garden I always go too. You know which one, right?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm gonna let you guys go so have a good time," Schlatt ran off, screaming his sentence down the hallway. Carson scoffed and kept walking, mumbling under his breath. "What'd you say?"

"He's going to get in trouble. Schlatt is a dumbass sometimes, he'd tell you the same thing about me," He chuckled, I kept looking down at him, he's a pretty attractive guy. "So, uhm, why are you blind? Sorry if that comes off as rude, just trying to start a conversation."

"I get asked that all the time, it's fine," Carson mentioned. "Uh basically, I started getting blinder when I was fourteen, long story short, we went to the hospital and they diagnosed me with Glaucoma. I don't wanna say it was life-changing but it kinda was? I don't really know how to tell you."

"That's fine, I already knew that I couldn't expect so much out of a blind person," I replied, which got a laugh out of him. "Oh, so you're a little asshole, aren't you?"

"Actually I'm very much taller than you."

"How tall? I'm 6'3."

"Puny, I am 6'6. Top that."

"Fucking hell, that's insane, you are legit the tallest person I know now. Congrats dude," Carson answered shocked, laughter escaped him again. I forgot where the garden was for half the time we were talking until I found specks of dirt on the yellow marble square ground, people like to ruin the shit out of this garden but I still like it, I try and help but apparently I'm "too cool" to help so that was bullshit. "Hey, we're here by the way," I tapped Carson's shoulder, he turned to me and back at the entrance of the garden. "Okay, there's like this bench somewhere, do you see it anywhere?" He asked hopeful sounding. I looked around and walked across the soft dirt ground, toward a broken bench, half of it gone and scribbled with messy graffiti. "Looks like half of your bench is gone, sorry," I spoke slowly, a wave of guilt washed over me as Carson walked toward the bench, hitting it and stumbling a little bit before his hand brushed the black rusted handle and light brown wood bench until he reached the missing half of the other side. "Huh, you're right."

"You didn't believe me?"

"No- Well, yeah but it's very easy to trick a blind guy, especially me."

"Good to know, that will definitely come in handy," I stated, trying to get a laugh out of him but Carson didn't say anything, he just looked unpleasant and sad. "I liked this bench a lot, I came here whenever I felt like shit and now it's gone. Whoever did this is just a lowlife, I mean, I'm not the only person that likes this bench and yet they decided to ruin a bench provided by our shit school?"

"You really liked this bench, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes I did. Now I have nowhere to sit."

"There's always the school rooftop or outside of school, surely you can find a different bench, can't you?"

"Yeah but- wait, the rooftop? How do you expect me to fucking climb the school roof?" Carson inquired, I could sense his patience getting smaller with every word the comes out of my mouth. "I could help you up, it's nice up there."

"Oh yeah? I bet it's gorgeous," Carson retorted, still looking down at what once was a bench. "Do you really wanna climb the school's roof? Is it going to be better than the bench?"

"I don't know, it depends on you if you want to climb the roof with me. It's not like we're gonna get caught, everybody's in class," I reassured, I wanted to make sure I wasn't pressuring him but from the looks of it, I probably was.

"You know what? Fine, I'll do it. I'm not a little bitch boy," Carson admitted, a smile forming on his face and I smiled a little bit too.

"Okay, if you say so," I added, taking his hand and walking him over to the corner of the garden, past all the lush bushes, flowers, and other assorted plants was a stack of boxes against the fence that surrounded the garden. Fortunately, the boxes are strong enough to support the weight of one person, so that way people were able to climb up onto the rooftop. "Shouldn't there be ladders for this kind of stuff, like, this school has ladders, right? Instead of boxes," Carson implied, poking the boxes with his cane.

"Geez Carson, you ask too many questions. Ladders sorta loud, we could get caught."

"I thought you said everybody was in class?"

"Fucks sake, Carson, just trust me on this. Either way, we're gonna end up on the roof," I rolled my eyes, stepping onto the first box while still holding Carson's hands. He didn't say anything afterward, his grip tightened with each step onto the boxes. "One more mate, then we're on the roof," I mention, the wind grew colder standing from the roof. Not much could be seen, tall trees blocked most of the view. "I've never stood on a roof before, I'm losing my shit."

"That's gross but at least I could help you experience your first time on a roof," I lead him to the middle of the roof, the ground scattered with leaves and more cigarette buds along with dry pieces of gum and a few beer bottles at the very corner of the roof

"I didn't mean that literally," Carson pointed out. I looked down at Carson and he was smiling, his pale blond hair moved with the wind and his cheeks tinted a light red, then I looked down at my hand to see mine still holding onto Carson's so I let go slowly but his hand immediately swiped away. "Sorry, I was just-"

"It's nice up here, I can tell why you like it up here. The wind feels good," Carson changed the subject, the smile still on his face.

"I'm glad," I announced, taking off my backpack and throwing it on the ground, shoving my hands into the warm pockets of my hoodie. We stood for a bit longer, nothing was said and the only thing you could hear were the trees, cars and the wind. "Wanna head down? Schools' about to end anyways."

"Yeah, promise me your gonna bring me here more often, it's a good hideaway spot," Carson's grin faded when he turned around, voices coming close to both of us. "There are people coming up here," He said prior to a group of three people climbing up the boxes and their voices became more clear to me. "Carson we have to go now," I gasped, trying to look for a ladder or more boxes leading down but nothing was found. I felt sick with apprehension.

We're screwed.

"Yeah, I know it's bullshit," The voice said and stopped in his tracks, stopping the two behind him from walking. "Is that you Fitz?"

"Don't call me that," I cautioned, taking a step back as Carson stood still behind me.

"C' mon, Fitz, don't be so rude. We're friends, aren't we?"

"No, we aren't. I used to buy your weed because you're too much of a pussy to do it," I spat, he snapped and the boys behind him hesitated, I could tell they didn't want this but it was either me or them. I took my chance to leave.

"Mason, Jay," His voice grew more demanding and snapped again. The two suddenly lunged toward me, knocking me down as I tried getting back up but He just kept kicking me and held me down. "E-Eric, you're better than this," I whispered, but he only looked down at me with his cold brown eyes. I watched as he bent down and moved my face to watch Carson as he dropped to the ground and the two others kept kicking but stopped shortly after.

"See what happens when you leave, Fitz? At least those two are smart enough to stay and listen to me," Eric's gravely voice whispered, my ears were ringing and I couldn't really see. I didn't even care about what Eric said, I blocked out every noise besides Carson. I listen to him cough and groan, he whispers something I can't hear and I see his blue eyes look at mine.

I could tell he wasn't happy about the situation happening and neither was I.

"Hey! Are you listening?" Eric shouted, I didn't answer and waited for him to leave so I could go to Carson. "Whatever, I don't ever want to see either of you up here or this situation is gonna become repetitive, I'm guessing you don't want that, right?"

I don't say anything. If I answer him, Swagger might hurt me or Carson. I keep my mouth shut.

"Alright, I see how it is. Just remember, I don't want to see either of you up here again," Swagger mentioned, chuckling and leaving us as the two other boys fled, sad looks on their faces. I waited until they completely left and stood up, my legs wobbled as I stumbled to Carson, who was still lying on the ground but awake. His nose was bleeding along with a few scratches on his face and hands. I was also bleeding but I didn't care. "Hey, Carson," I shook him and he looked up at me, his ice-blue eyes expressed fear. "Cam, where are you?" Carson held his arm up as his hand searched for me, so I grabbed it and pressed it against my face, letting him feel my face although it was sort of uncomfortable.

"Sorry if this isn't normal, but it's just to get to know you better," Carson admitted, moving his hand away from my face slowly. I didn't answer him though, I realized he didn't have his glasses on. I looked around us and found thin glasses on the ground, dusted from the dirt. I grabbed them and cleaned it with my shirt, although I didn't need too. "Here are your glasses, they were on the ground."

"Oh, thanks," Carson replied, taking them and placing it between his eyes, he sighed and sat up properly. "What just happened? Who were those people?"

"That was Swagger, Jay, and Mason. They're involved in a gang and I left it behind," I explained. "I couldn't be apart of it anymore. I didn't want to be in the first place, none of us did but we ended up in a rough place. Swagger dragged us all down with him, except for me and another good friend of mine, Toby."

"Did-did you buy weed for him?"

"Yeah, he likes to be unrecognized. I don't know what the others do for him now, I try and avoid them as much as possible because I knew something like this would happen. I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry," I covered my mouth with my hands, I didn't want any of this to happen. I let it happen.

"We should get off this roof," Carson added, rubbing his head.

"Yeah, let's go," I helped Carson up and grabbed his cane from the ground along with mine and his backpack. Leaving the same way we came.

I hope this doesn't change anything.

=2274 WORDS=

[thaliatimsh]

if its alright! wrt the 'directors commentary' asks, honestly anything /Anything/ for 'imperfect life', oof :0

ONE DVD COMMENTARY TRACK COMING UP BECAUSE HELL YES you may ask me about this one. GOD I HOPE THIS READ MORE WORKS OR I’M GONNA DIE OF SHAME. For those of you who’ve missed my pleas: imperfect life is on AO3 here. read it or i cry.

Okay I reblogged that post with not much of an idea about what I’d actually have to say but imperfect life is at least at the forefront of my mind lol

First things first I’d had an idea for a fic about Hodgson At Mutineer Camp that i wanted to write floating around my head for a while that was. I suppose centred on the sheer Betrayal of GIBSON YOU CHANGED MY SHEETS FOR THREE YEARS? WHAT THE FUCK? And as I did more research abt both of them and found that they’d been on ships together & that it was likely that either Hodgson or Peglar got Gibson his job? Fuckin wrote itself, especially seeing as in show-canon Bridgens is the Peglar Papers Steward.

Anyway I’ve said this before to everyone who’ll listen but I will say it again: I think Hodgson is misinterpreted & underappreciated by a lot of the fandom &  it makes me SAD and also ANGRY.

Like: I once saw someone say that he was “mad about Jopson’s promotion, so fuck that guy”? NO. He MISSED Jopson’s promotion! He would have gotten a KICK out of Jopson’s promotion! You BASTARDS! Hickey picks on him SPECIFICALLY because he’s out of the loop! I’ll kill you!

Ham jokes? I’m coming to your HOUSE. man’s as ‘obsessed with ham’ as any self-respecting naval officer starving to death in the arctic

Then there’s the “Who is this?” being taken as some kind of a-okay for cannibalism instead of a guy who saw someone shot dead just last night and then spent the morning burying said dead'un being literally scared out of his mind by a greasy lil rat with a knife and Tozer blocking the tent flap with a fuckign RIFLE. DAMN YOU ALL.

Do I think he’s a complete FOOL? YES. Do I think he ever had any kind of malicious intent? NO. Okay anyway I’m gonna talk a bit more abt that later so let me go back to the next part lmao

So Part 2 of the George Henry Hodgson Saga was then to figure out why he had to go stay with his aunts - this ALSO came pretty straight to me, for whatever reason. I think it might have started off as just his parents pleasure jaunt, but as I was thinking about later scenes with Jimmy Fitzjas I came up with a thing abt - Im not gonna find the reference now but in the battersby book there’s a bit abt William Coningham going to take the waters at bath or whatever for Weak Lungs which OBVIOUSLY made me think of my favourite comsumptive Of All Time Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin & the countryside retreats he & his sister Emilia took for their symptoms as teenagers (and unforch Emilia died of tuberculosis aged just 14… rip)

ANYWAY I had some VAGUE idea that George n Fitz could have some kind of Passing Discussion abt Brothers With Shite Lungs that obviously never came to fruition but. Lol whatever, it gave me a reason for why My Parents Sent Me To Stay With Two Aunts.

UH. Right, so then like the third leg for this to stand on was that Fitzjames and Hodgson had ALSO served together & Fitzjames had: 1. recommended Hodgson to the expedition 2: mentioned him TWICE in his Voyage of the Cornwallis 3. Mentioned him in his letters to the Coninghams from disko bay (one of the only Terrors mentioned - there’s a passage abt Fitzjames going to look at the icebergs with Fairholme and Hodgson. ANYWAY; show-canon Hodgson has a sense of humour and I really think he tried to make the men see him as approachable, at least compared to the other Terror officers and that reminds me a lot of how the historical Fitzjames seemed from mystery man! Seeing as they KNew each other I think it’s not unfair to suggest that he’s trying to emulate an older and more successful officer! He wants to succeed! He wants to have fun and to be loved by The Men!

My friend said something very Prescient abt this to me recently which was that THere are a lot of similarities between Hodgson & Fitzjames and it’s kinda like. Fitzjames is the Ideal, and Hodgson just misses the mark. He’s the average man’s James Fitzjames and because he doesn’t know about Fitzjames’ surplus of political luck that only makes him feel more of a failure. Fitzjames gets a bullet that gets him compared to Lord Nelson, Hodgson gets in the gazette as ‘slightly wounded’. Even their monologues! Fitzjames gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and he gets! Affirmation! Gets told that he’s a good man and brave and loved! Hodgson gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and gets! FUCK ALL! A MAN SITS IN SILENCE! He has to fucking! Walk out alone after all of that! FUCK!!!

Okay so this whole fic just sat in my brain for probably like six months until I literally sat up in bed because I worked out the last piece of the puzzle

(Drac has an epiphany, July 4th 2019, colourised)

Which was, of course, 'Hodgson went to boarding school’ - which is what all of this ends up hanging off of! Boarding school culture! The younger years are servants for the upper years, who in turn are responsible for the younger students!  including discipline etc so like… if a younger year brought something up to their “fag-master” it’d be sorted by them and maybe prefects, without getting schoolmasters etc involved.

WHICH is why George doesn’t tell the captains about what happens to Neptune, because he’s out here trying to be a good fag master and get it sorted himself! His own fag master fucked him over by getting the schoolmasters involved when they oughtn’t have been! He’s not about to be Archibald Harrington-Thurlowe! He’s not okaying the mutiny! He’s trying to minimise the damage *on his own* like a fuckin idiot!

IF YOU CALL HODGSON A MUTINEER I’LL COME TO YOUR HOUSE N MAKE YOU GET LOST AND ABANDONED AND END UP EATING YOUR BOOT BEFORE GETTING 'RESCUED’ BY THE SAME GREASY RAT WHO LITERALLY MURDERED YOUR PAL AND TRICKED YOU INTO SLAUGHTERING CIVILIANS! I’LL. I’M NOT HAPPY.

I’m just basically so upset about 'one perfect moment in a whole imperfect life’ being a childhood memory that he was taught to see as so shameful to compare it to cannibalism under duress? FUCK.

A whole imperfect life in GENERAL has me fucked up! He just kept trying and kept just missing what he was aiming for! I mean. That’s relateable. Not one part of a life turning out as you expected or planned? ME!!!! Your achievements add up to nothing and no matter how hard you try you end up a footnote! FUCK offfff

I had some difficulty with the religious angle for a while because. hm. okay. To start with the religious angle IN-CANON is just.... not correct. Catholics don't let you drink the blood. The church of england DOES... and that's what most of these men ARE. The Papist Speech as a whole was cobbled together from one of Crozier's ~Visions~ in the book - and it's important in that case that Crozier is IRISH... Poor analogy, writers! Putting aside that he was also... SEVEN... maybe he was an unusually tall seven-year old, people assumed he'd had first communion/been baptised & no one wanted to cause a fuss... I mean the guy has lead poisoning so it's fair to mis-remember but... YEAH. Messy, which is a shame because it's a powerful monologue very well-delivered, shame it's complete fucking nonsense 😂 (not to be like... SMH Americans but... smh Americans...)

Anyway, as I wrote it? that’s me. I wasn’t raised religious - my dad’s an old-school small-town Continental Catholic, my mum’s agnostic but raised CofE (but *her* dad was raised Jewish (also continental) during WW2), I think they couldn’t be fucked with the drama, I never went to church or anything and as a kid when we had prayers at school assembly I didn’t know what I was doing!!!! I felt bad because I couldn’t fathom God as a concept!!! I still can’t! But as a kid it’s like. I don’t understand and on account of that I’m afraid I’m going to Hell. tfw you write what you know.

ALSO there were definitely a couple of times where I wrote G H Hodgson as played by B W Wooster and I will not be taking constructive criticism on that.

ANYWAY My brain has kindof turned itself off now but I guess this is just. My own personal backstory to this jhsgfjhs. I actually probably have about 400x more to say but it’s fully evaporated. thank you SO MUCH for asking me though. i die.

[oftheflamingheart]

Something There

I’m probably taking the notes on my Beauty and the Beast AU and turning that into an original fic but because I love the idea of Beast!Rupert and Beauty!Amir, have a little something.

“I don’t want any favors from him! He’d have left my mother to rot in that tower.” His voice echoed in the large room the Beast left him in. It was easily the size of his mother’s cottage back on the edge of town. That thought only reminded him of home and of the hopelessness of his situation.

He’d come to find his mother. She’d gone to the city to try and salvage the last of his father’s assets but hadn’t returned. Her horse was back before nightfall, not enough time for her to have made it far. The only thing in the area was an old ruin that no villager dared come near.

That ruined facade was an illusion. A blatant bit of magic once the daring young man crossed into the courtyard. Although the castle it hid was somehow more frightening than the facade was. Gargoyles and gray stone, forbidding and foreboding, this place itself would refuse visitors.

After that it was the sound of his mother weeping that carried on the wind and lead him to her. On sight, she ordered him to leave but he hadn’t listened. The Beast arrived then and, unarmed and unprepared, Amir had done the only thing he could. He exchanged his life for his mother’s. She’d begged and cried but the deal was done and before Amir could hold her and say goodbye, she was gone.

Upon the Beast’s assurance she would be physically fine, Amir moved to enter her cell. Crossing through the door had only lead him to this room. Very much not a cell. Lavishly furnished, although the furniture was of an older antique style. Amir admired the canopy bed large enough to swim in the silk sheets. But the frightful appearance of the Beast, the magic of this place and the temporary reunion with his mother took its toll.

In his grief, he heard a scratching. And there upon the desk a quill pen wrote out words of encouragement. Astonished, Amir made to write back, but the pen assured him it had ears, but no voice. An unseen and unseeable servant spoke with him in ink.

[Our circumstances are quite severe, Master Amir. My Prince is under a dreadful curse. Inflicted while he was young and uncaring.]

“So that gives him right to inflict himself upon others?” Amir asked. “And why call him your prince? The king and queen have many sons but none of them beasts!”

The pen swirled and swished as if in an agitated hand. Finally, it responded. [On the subject of inflicting, I fear you are correct. It is early yet, please trust that my Prince’s heart will soften. And on the subject of My Prince, he is the King’s youngest son, sent away here as a child to avoid the war.]

“The war ended five years ago! Would the king and queen forget their own son?” Amir asked, incredulous.

[I fear that too is also a consequence of this curse. Our suppliers, our local contacts, none have even so much as approached this castle. It is as though we have been forgotten. On a personal note, I fear my husband has forgotten me, back in the royal city.]

“I’m. I’m sorry for you, Quill Pen. Do you have a name? Calling you a quill pen seems a bit impersonal.”

[Quill suits me fine. I wasn’t fond of my old name anyway. And my Prince has never used any name for me but servant anyway.]

“Shouldn’t there be more than you? Other servants? Even a youngest born prince would have a castle full.”

[They are all here. They may only interact with objects related to their station. I wrote many things for the upkeep of this castle. Inventories, invitations, orders and receipts and more. Thus I can hold pen and paper. We have only one other ability and that is to instantly be anywhere we are needed to be.]

“Then one of you took my mother away before I could say goodbye? And then another brought me here?”

[I am sorry. You should have had time to say goodbye. I think it likely the servant who took her was most interested to see how far from the castle they could get by following an order to take someone away. I once made it past the main gate and across the drawbridge before I found myself suddenly in the kitchens.]

“Well, we’re both trapped now. Your prince could likely order a servant to retrieve me even if I tried to escape.”

A knock on the door echoed in the large room. Amir took a breath and looked back at Quill. The pen pointed at the door. Amir sighed and looked back at the door. “Why bother with courtesy? This whole place and everyone in it is yours to serve at your will.”

A pause. The door cracked a bit. Amir flinched at the eyes that reflected a bit of the light from inside the room, like a cat’s eyes. “Please, forgive me, I have treated you unkindly.”

“You are a great Beast. Why play at being a timid thing now?”

The Beast let out a low rumble that could have either been a growl or a sigh. “Please don’t call me a Beast.”

Amir stood and stamped his foot. “That’s what you are though! A beast who took my mother away, imprisoned her here and then made me trade my life for hers to release her!”

“I would have let her go at just your request. You brought up the trade.”

“I thought it sure you meant to kill her, having her there locked in a cell!”

“I had to be sure that someone would come for her. My servants can’t be everywhere and she nearly escaped three times in one day. She is very clever, your mother.”

“She’s the cleverest and the best and I’m a fool. Can I simply ask to leave then? Would you let me go if I asked?”

“I-I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“No, ask my servant. That pen there.”

“Quill. She...he...?” Amir stopped in his thought. Turning to Quill, Amir asked, “Actually, Quill what are you? Or were you? Man or woman?”

[I forget. Use “they” instead of He or She]

“You forget?” The pen simply swirled the feather about.

“Servant, tell him I can’t let him go.”

“Their name is Quill and don’t just order them around like that!”

“But it’s my servant...”

“They’re!”

“Where?”

“No, not there. ‘They’re’ as in ‘they are!’”

“Who is?”

“Quill is!”

“Quill is what?”

“Quill might be your servant but you should refer to them by a proper name and you shouldn’t order them around like that!”

[Please! Don’t go to all this trouble arguing for me!]

“Quill, please tell him why I can’t let him go.”

“See was that so hard?” Amir asked. The Beast huffed and folded his arms over his chest.

[Unfortunately, if you pledged your life to My Prince, the curse won’t let you leave. That’s why all the servants are stuck here. We swore to serve the prince.]

“Will I disappear? Turn into some ghost who can only push a broom around?”

[I don’t know, actually.]

“You agreed to this deal, too. You knew it could mean I was stuck here and you let it happen! Just when I thought you couldn’t be more contemptible! You tricked me, beast!”

“Please call me Your Highness. If you can call my servant Quill, you can call me something nice too.”

“How about I call you Fluffy?”

“I had a cat named that once.”

“What happened? Did you eat it?”

“I’m not a monster! I just...I just look like one. You-you’re being mean to me. I came to say sorry! It all happened so fast I wasn’t thinking. I was just so lonely and-and I thought if you wanted to stay here then we could b-be friends...”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Beast. I’ll think about your apology.”

“Please, just one thing.”

“What, Your Beastness?”

“May I have the honor of knowing your name?”

“Is this more trickery? The stories all say the faeries can do all sort of horrible things to you once they know your name.”

“Fine then you may lie to me. If I must call a floating feather ‘Quill’ then I must have something to call you.”

“Did you ask my mother what her name was? Did her life mean anything to you or was she just bait to you?”

“She wouldn’t tell me her name either. I stopped trying to talk to her. She yelled at me a lot.”

“No less than you deserved. Call me anything.”

“Then I will call you Fitzroy.”

“Fitzroy? I thought your cats name was Fluffy.”

“It was. Fitzroy was my dog.”

“So now I’m a dog to you? Should I scurry on all fours and beg you?”

“N-no! I-I didn’t mean it like that! It was just the first name I thought of, I swear! How about Fitz?”

“You just gave me a name and now you want to shorten it?”

“Can I do nothing right? I said I was sorry!”

“And I said I would think about it, Beast!”

“Rupert!”

“I thought my name was Fitz, now you want to call me Rupert?”

“No! My name is Rupert! Prince Rupert, the First.”

“Shouldn’t it be the Last if you were the youngest?”

“You would complain about anything! There is no pleasing you. I’m really sorry! Doesn’t that mean anything anymore? I never used to say it and now I’ve said it more than in any other conversation.”

“Good for you! I guess when you’re a pampered prince it wouldn’t occur to you to even feel sorry. Now can you stop trying to please me and say sorry to me and just leave me be?”

“Fine! But no dinner for you! And I had the cook make my favorites and all the best desserts he could! But I won’t share my table with someone who calls me mean names!”

“Fine by me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

Amir ignored the watery eyes the Beast Prince Rupert gave him before he turned and left Amir’s room. His eyes caught on Quill, the pen laying down on the desk by the bed.

“Are you staying here all night?” The pen made no move. Amir poked at it, but it fell off the desk. Hurriedly, he picked up the implement and checked over the feather to make sure it hadn’t broken. “Oh, you’re not here. Okay. Okay now I’m talking to a pen. Okay now shut up, Amir. Oh great, now I’m talking to myself.” Amir gently set the pen down and flung himself on the bed. As he thought of his mother, his tears returned and he wept bitterly.

Across the castle, Rupert slammed his beastly claw into a battered table. This latest act of violence proved to be the table’s downfall. It gave way in pieces. Rupert howled, his anger burning as brightly as the pain in his claw. He slumped against the wall and then slid to the floor. His tears were a familiar weight on his fur covered face.

[saltyaos]

i’m gonna vent

people in the fandom: Simmons doesn’t face any consequence for her actions

off the top of my head: everyone has at some point insulted her or turned against her or assumed the worst of her and spread their assumptions around presenting them as facts (’she abandoned Fitz because he has brain damage’, she’s hiding what she’s working on, the gloves for Daisy, because ordered to by Coulson and accused of being the scariest change and working on a ‘project’ mad scientist style) especially in s2 connected to it: she came back to a base full of people who already knew some of her most private things and were judging her because she dared to leave without warning, I could make a gifset and need more than the gifset to show people insulting her behind her back or in front of her but I can’t make as many of people talking about her qualities the way they do with Fitz, usually all because she left or because she was not responding nicely to traumas or rightfully afraid of unknown deadly things,   she was the only one who was alone for days after Trip died while everyone else got a choice whether to vent in company or not, and once she came back she was immediately isolated again because she ‘had changed’ and Fitz wanted to protect Daisy from her,  she was blamed for Fitz getting worse by other people too not just herself but at the same time expected to make him better still all because she left AND because she didn’t magically lifted Fitz’s self esteem, she was tortured because she was trying to open the portal and got out of the base so she could try to save Will, she had to live with Will’s death because she chose to (fair enough) run home, she was scared after her tortured so she let Andrew out, and inhumans died, making her survivor’s guilt worse she has no close friends who are just her friends and not her and Fitz’s friends while Fitz has people that only love him or are only on his side all over the place, not exactly a consequence to her actions, but it adds up to the rest  she’s been TOLD by Mack to forgive and understand Fitz after the mess of his split personality episode, by Deke that she’s the reason Fitz is okay in the future, by Daisy not long before that they belong together, and more, and when she does choose him in a fit of despair because she doesn’t want the future they saw to happen, she’s shunned and has only Fitz and Deke on their side because the others didn’t like her methods (I get Daisy, I really do, Daisy has every right to be pissed) she’s treated as potential enemy and monster for being too homicidal towards Raina after seeing horrible things Raina did and for reacting ‘too strongly’ to her traumas,  she found comfort in Will and has to this day, years later, justify herself with Fitz about it, and because of it everyone was comforting Fitz after Maveth instead of looking after her

out of universe, in years she hasn’t had a conversation with friends that didn’t end up being about Fitz OR a plot that didn’t end up being about Fitz beside an arc about her tricking Mace to get some power to help her friends and that led to nowhere, or a close friendship with anyone but Daisy but that comes and goes (depending usually on Fitz and his behavior) and this whole s6 mess is actually a pretty logical response from Jemma after years of being pushed to support Fitz, of loving him and of only having Fitz as her person by then, and she’s paid for what she was doing by, you know, being already mourning and miserable after a neverending exaggerated trauma conga that went on for a year and a half now without breaks, after the traumas from the past

and the fandom hates her so much outside of her ship, or doesn’t even look at her 

[dresupi]

Fae AU - The Fae King (Person A) tricks Person B into eating something in Faerie. Darcy/Fitz please!

#20. Fae AU - The Fae King (Person A) tricks Person B into eating something in Faerie. 

The fruit was still light on his tongue, the juice still on his lips when he realized what he’d done.

“You…” he sputtered, the pink globe falling from his fingers to the mossy ground. “You tricked me!”

The being on the throne laughed, the sound annoyingly melodic and echoing in his mind as he tried to remain angry with her.

“You’re angry at the Folk for tricking you? I should probably refer you to our HR department. The wait’s four thousand years, but I think you could probably swing it. You’re here for the long haul now.” Her voice was light, even if her words were sharp and Fitz knew as well as the next person that he wouldn’t be angry with her for long.

Hell, he was already starting to forgive her.

Damn her.

Darcy bounced her leg against the other one, a sly smile stretching across her angular face. Blue eyes bored into his as she waited for him to speak again.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Well? Shall we? To HR?”

“You don’t have a Human Resources department,” he countered, folding his arms in front of him. “This is Faerie, why would you?”

She grinned slightly. “Very good. You’ve got looks. Brains too. How did you encounter so many blessings on Earth, Dr. Fitz?”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “You… you know I worked very hard for–”

“Yes. I do. And I know you won’t have to work at all for anything here. So tell me again how you’d rather go back to that shithole with the other humans.”

Darcy folded her hands primly across her knee. Despite the razor sharp teeth that peeked out when she smiled, she looked very much the same as he’d known her on Earth.

“You’re a very pretty one, you know?” she continued, rising from the throne and practically gliding towards him.

Fitz averted his eyes, glancing down at her bare feet to avoid lingering on the gossamer gown that simply flowed over her every curve.

It was something he’d have given his left eye to see on earth. There were a lot of things he’d just been given in Faerie that he’d have had to work hard for on Earth.

“You’ve said as much,” he answered, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her eyes sparkling when he looked up, gazing into them.

“I know it wasn’t the most scrupulous way of bringing you here, but don’t you want to stay with me?” Darcy asked sweetly.

He did. But only if it was his own choice.

“Not like this,” he whispered, closing his eyes to relish the gentle touch of her fingers.

“How then?” she asked. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“I want to choose,” he said. “Give me a choice.”

She squinted at him, studying his face before taking a step back.

“How would you know if it wasn’t just words?”

“I don’t suppose you’d just trust me, would you?” she teased.

He smirked, shaking his head lightly.  "Let me go back to Earth. Put my affairs in order. Then, I’ll return.“

"What if you don’t?”

“Then I don’t.”

“That doesn’t seem like a fair trade for me. I feel you’d simply leave me. You wouldn’t want to return to me…”

Fitz leaned forward, brushing his hands over her cool skin and pressing his lips firmly to hers, The rasp of her teeth was harsh on his bottom lip, but she didn’t break the skin, simply scraped.

The sensation made him shiver, goosebumps rising on his flesh.

“I don’t suppose you’d just trust me, would you?” he whispered.

She kissed him once more, lingering before speaking. “You’ll have been gone for nearly a year on Earth. Time moves differently here.”

“Fine,” he replied.

“And I’ll expect you back,” she murmured. “Don’t break a promise.”

“I never would,” he replied.

“Then go,” she said, snapping her fingers and plunging him into darkness.

He awoke in the same spoke he’d gone from, blinking and rubbing his head.

[everysongineverykey]

IT’S SOLINH BABES

Keefe sat on the living room couch, quietly observing the party before him. He discreetly darted his eyes around his friends. First, on the left, his best friend Fitz. He looked a bit tipsy and seemed to be doing a human magic trick- maybe to impress Dex? It wasn’t clear. One thing was for sure, though- bringing him to this party hadn’t been a good idea at all. For as tough as Fitz looked, he got drunk after four drinks.

Looking at Fitz a bit strangely was Dex. Even though he had grown up, he still had his dimples and strawberry hair. He looked perfectly sober, but then again, he never drank, so that wasn’t surprising. Nothing important there. With a quick, appraising glance, Keefe shifted his attention to the girl with her back to Dex- Marella. Keefe’s eyes widened curiously as he realized that Marella was attempting to light a cocktail on fire. His eyes swept over her face- tired, weary, but not drunk. Maybe she was just going a little crazy. Keefe knew she still had trouble controlling her ability in her sleep. Crowded around Marella were two people that Keefe had mixed feelings about- Tam, and his fiancée, Biana. Biana Keefe liked. She had a good head on her shoulders. Then again, she could be a little annoying. Always nagging Keefe about his sleeping habits. Ha. Keefe didn’t need any sleep.

Tam, on the other hand, was slightly less of a friend to him. The two had had a stupid little rivalry when they were younger, but that was over now mainly thanks to Sophie, who had to convince Keefe to shut up about it four times before he complied. Before he could continue his appraisal, Sophie herself woke him from his trance by slumping down next to him on the couch.

“Keefe! Buddy! Pal! Wanna help me with- WHAT IN THE WORLD?”

Sophie was staring at him as if he’d grown another head. Keefe smirked.

“Blinded by my brilliance, Foster?”

“Oh my god, Keefe, one would think you’d have grown up a little.”

“Hey, can’t help it. Not my fault if my animal magnetism is too much for you to resist.”

“Honestly, Keefe, I’m-“ She paused. Hesitated. “-Taken. You know this. Anyway, get some sleep, ya lunkhead.”

“First Biana, now you,” Keefe grumbled. After a moment, he asked, “Why’d you hesitate when you said taken?”

Sophie opened her mouth, then shut it. “Can we talk about this outside?”

“Oookay.”

Out in the garden under the twilight, Sophie got straight to the point.

“It’s about me and Linh.”

“What? You didn’t have a fight or anything, did you? Because seriously, you two are star-crossed lovers. You can’t break-“

“We didn’t have a fight. It’s just… her inception-day’s coming up soon, and I have an idea I want to do for it, but I just don’t know…”

Keefe sat up. “Tell me more.”

Sophie took a deep breath, then said, “I… want to ask her the big question.”

Keefe’s face immediately brightened. “Foster. Sophie. I need you to know… I’m really sarcastic and witty a lot of the time… but for this… I’m actually, genuinely, really, astronomically happy for you,” and he smiled, not his signature smirk, nothing sarcastic, but a warm, real one. Sophie relaxed a bit.

“Thanks, Keefe. Anyway, let me tell you my idea…”

They bent heads and spoke in hushed voices. After a while, Keefe assured her that it would work, and they parted ways for the night.

“Happy inception-day, babe!”

Sophie handed Linh a huge, pink parcel with a bow on it. When Linh unwrapped it, a tiny sky-blue collar appeared.

“...Thanks! What’s this for?”

“That brings me to my next gift,” Sophie said, jumping out of the room.

Moments later, she reappeared, holding a tiny black kitten in her hands. Linh squealed so loud there might have been a piglet in the room.

“AAAAH! Is that for me?!?” Sophie gave an answering smile. Linh, covered in cards and chocolates and flowers, slowly took the kitten in her hands. It had a rather confused expression on its face.

“You can call her anything you want-“

“It’s a girl?”

“Yes-“

“Shadow. Her name’s Shadow,” Linh said decisively, though it was hard to keep a straight face when she was holding the embodiment of cuteness in her arms. Sophie could definitely relate after hugging Linh so many times.

“Shadow. Sweet. Well, Linnie, I got you one more gift, but you’ll have to wait ‘til dinner tonight to see it.”

“Sophie! You sweetheart! You know that whatever you get me, I’m gonna love it!”

I hope so, thought Sophie, having her first feelings of doubt about her plan.

That evening, Sophie sat with Linh on a bench under the stars. The dinner had been a huge success, with everyone there, including Fitz who, embarrassed by his drunkenness the other night, had been the only person who hadn’t drunk at all. Sophie didn’t even have time to contemplate what she was doing before Linh asked, “Soooo? What’s this ‘extra gift’ all about?”

Sophie felt the ring in her pocket, and at that moment, her carefully prepared speech left her completely, and she was forced to improvise.

“Linh… for three years, you’ve made me the happiest girl on earth. And… I just… This is difficult to say, but…” Linh’s eyes widened. Sophie hastened to correct the implication she had just made. “Hey, it’s okay, we’re not-“

“So we’re breaking up. I knew it.” Linh’s eyes brimmed with tears. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”

Sophie saw her chance. “Not something. Just one thing,” she took out the tiny box in her pocket. “Your last name.”

Linh’s expression went from worried to ecstatic in 0.4 seconds.

“Linh Song… will you marry me?”

No other words were spoken as Linh pulled her fiancée into a long kiss, and had anyone else been there at the time, all they would have heard was muffled giggling, as was Linh’s habit when they kissed, and two girls, their love melding them into one underneath the starry sky.

[leonardoflint]

(cami, she/her, 18, gmt) LEONARDO FLINT is AN ORDER MEMBER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A MUSICIAN. the TWENTY FIVE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be INCISIVE and BENEVOLENT but also ENIGMATIC and MEALY MOUTHED. some might label them as THE GOLDEN BOY. fc: tyler posey

the flints are a well respected socialite family, where ambition and skills aren’t needed - as long as you can charm a room, you’ve fulfilled your duty. leo always aimed to be something far bigger than that.

the first child and main heir is arturo flint, a terrible mistake. his parents had hoped that a more distant relationship would have turned him into someone independent, capable of carrying on the prestigious name and estates. did not work out. very early on, art started showing signs of aggression; his tantrums were violent, insidious, things were broken, blood was drawn. of course, this was always muffled to the outside world, who certainly knew that something was off with the elder flint brother, but never quite sure what.

when leonardo and his twin sister clementina were born, their parents tried a different approach. they micromanaged their lives from the very beginning, and ‘guided’ them into the shape they wanted ( or needed ) them to be. leo, especially, bent under these conditions. after all, he saw art’s damage first hand, he knew how much it hurt / disappointed his parents, and there was this innate need in him to compensate for all he’d broken.

most of the time, clementina saw the most of art’s violence, as leo was near untouchable. no one would have believed that the quiet obedient little boy would fall so many times. through that, art grew jealous of the position leo had in the household as the doted upon perfect heir, and his words and looks were enough to send a chill down his spine. leo was taking HIS place.

he only properly hit him once. to this day, he bears the scar on his cheek. to this day, his parents lament the poor little boy’s flying accident. he too kept the secret from most. nowadays art has a young son and a rather insignificant position in pureblood society, and it’s best ( or so he thinks ) to not screw that up for him.

at hogwarts, within the house of ravenclaw and outside, he was a celebrity in the making. his good looks, charming personality and need to keep everyone around him smiling made him rise through the unspoken social ranks. he was also a high marks student ( with a special love for potions ), a prefect and a head boy. with so much on his plate, one would think he’d be struggling to keep up - and oh, he was. no one could guess it though. that was his party trick, to make it all look easy. 

do i refer to him as the cedric diggory of his time? yes. 

one comment from his parents was always enough to make him jump into something. they’d like him to learn the piano? he’d love to. they thought he should laugh more? he did. they liked to see him in blue? well, he certainly did too. to this day, their influence over him is unbearable, and eventually he let that habit stick to anyone. others’ opinions and needs could shape him into what they wanted and they have. he often wonders if the things he knows to be true about himself have been made up to fulfill someone’s needs.

with so much about himself and his life hidden, leo was bound to need an outlet before he burst. it used to be journaling, until that got too lonely and his sister suggested they’d dabble into music together. during their 7th year, they were playing songs are hogwarts parties, school events and hogsmeade when allowed, and it just snowballed from there.

OMEN, the name of the band they’d formed, quickly gained notoriety. before they noticed, the twins were not just famous for their names, they were famous for their voices

leo is very very careful about the songs he writes. he does use them as an outlet to expose something real of himself, and to perhaps search for that part, if it’s even there - but he’d still charmingly secretive, always hiding something under his tongue, always self censoring.

now OMEN are at their peak fame and interest in its members has never been higher. there are too many questions he can’t answer

one is anything related to the war. in late 1979, after an especially vicious attack, leo felt like it was his job to do more, if not because he very likely knew the lives and lies of many of the perpetrators. pureblood high society was still very much within his social circle, and it felt almost like guilt to do nothing. growing up, he’d been warned to stay away from the undesirable ones, which he did, openly. what conversations took place behind closed doors was a completely different thing. leonardo joined the order not as a spy but more like an informant and messenger. he moves through the society unquestioned, finds spies who need to get something in or out, keeps on eye on them, checks in sometimes and, when need be, absorbs some information directly for the order. and it’s the hardest most conflicting thing he’s ever had to do. it’s the most terrifying thing he’s ever had to do too. 

it’s not just about the constant danger. it’s about the betrayal. the people he’s plotting against are evil, yes, and the ones he grew alongside with. something in him can’t help but hope for them to have some good left. something in him can’t help but feel disgusted whenever something happens and he can’t say a thing too. he’s in too deep now to quit, and he could technically move into more regular order business, but that would mean leaving the pureblood society, and he’s too afraid to do that. change is terrifying.

character parallels: alec lightwood, karolina dean, amy santiago, matthew murdock, randall pearson, cedric diggory, chloe decker, steve rogers, chidi anagonye, leo fitz and scott mccall

click here for a bad pinterest board. hmu and i’ll send u pain lets DO THIS

[agent-85]

How could you see them resolving Fitz's issues with his father since they are responsible for who Fitz became in the Framework? I hope they don't just drop the story and maybe find a way to tie it into the second arc of the season, especially since Radcliffe failed to deliver Alistair's message (the declassified book confirmed that the Radcliffe LMD was telling the truth). It's frustrating when shows abruptly drop a story or don't explore them more, but I'm prepared for it to happen.

Hey there, anon! Thanks for the ask! I’ve been missing the meta asks!

Honestly, I think the best way for Fitz to heal from the pain from his relationship with his father is to move forward with Jemma. Fitz has always leaned on Jemma for emotional support, and no one is better at giving emotional support than she is.

The thing is, I don’t really see him getting closure or healing by going back to try and make peace with his father. If what Radcliffe says is true, he’s a pretty awful human being, and trying to build bridges with him would be pointless. It’s possible he’s changed, of course, but it’s hard to see how they would work that into the story. I only really see that happening if Alistair is useful for the larger plot down the line. I doubt that they would bring him back just for Fitz’s sake.

It’s true that the real Alistair is out there somewhere with some unknown message for Fitz, but I think that the purpose of bringing that up in the first place was to set up the Framework arc, and the writers see the Alistair story resolved that way. While I usually would be upset about them leaving a loose end out there, in this case I’m okay with it, because it’s really just a piece of a larger story that I’m confident WILL be explored: Fitz’s development as a character.

Going all the way back to season one, Fitz has consistently had one major flaw: a misunderstanding of his worth as a person. When we first saw him, he bragged to cover how inadequate he felt as an “underappreciated genius” while in the company of experienced, combat-capable agents. Now, looking back, we can see where that lack of confidence comes from. If you had a father who told you you were worthless, it makes sense for you to grow up arguing with the part of yourself that believes him. Fitz was able to hold on to his intelligence as the one thing that made his valuable as a SHIELD agent and as a person. It also qualified him to be partners with Jemma, who understood him and the value of his genius. At the end of season one, both his intelligence and Jemma were taken away from him, and we saw what happened when Fitz no longer had evidence that he was worth something. He started to believe that he wasn’t capable of anything at all.

Season two, for Fitz, is largely about Fitz regaining his sense of worth through hard work. He goes through physical therapy, he makes new friends, and he learns that he can still contribute even though everything in his life has changed, What’s more, he finds out that Jemma still cares about him, despite his changes. You can even argue that his relationship with Jemma is tempered and strengthened by the hardship he goes through, because it gives both of them a chance to be on their own and choose to come back to each other. When Jemma tells him she may love him at the end of season two, Fitz has already decided that Jemma will probably never love him back, and he’s learned to be okay with it. All of his time working to recover helped him look inside himself and find a value from within, instead of from the approval or Jemma or others. So, when Jemma DOES return his feelings, he’s more of a whole person than he was before, and therefore more capable of being in a healthy relationship with Jemma. Of course, in season three, he’s put through the ringer again.

I think of season three as a continuation of what happened in season two, in which his new emotional dependence is really put to the test. Will he keep looking for her, even when there’s no sign of her? Will he still love and respect her, even when he believes that she loves someone else? Turns out that he can. Season one Fitz would never have been able to meet this challenge, but season three Fitz knocked it out of the park, allowing him to support Jemma as she went through her own crises. His success with Jemma in the last half of season three came because he continued to be her best friend no matter what, and because he had already learned not to expect anything in return. His sense of value no longer depends on her opinion of him, because he is battle-tested and victorious over everthing that shook him to his core. Again, because of his growth, he is a better match for Jemma, especially since Jemma has been doing growing of her own.

I see season four as a different kind of struggle for Fitz. He’s fought the battle for his intelligence, he’s fought the battle for Jemma, and now he fights the battle for his own goodness. This is not something that Fitz ever thought could be taken from him, but despite his best efforts, he ends up with blood on his hands and a lifetime of monster memories. While Fitz’s injury made him feel like he wasn’t capable of anything, the Framework made him feel that he was TOO capable. This is the completely opposite side of the spectrum, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it came with a completely opposite dad. The supportive, controlling Alistair we saw in the Framework gave Fitz too much confidence, made him pursue the ends without considering the means, and erased all his personal growth from seasons one through three. This is a Fitz who looks powerful, who seems fearsome, but really, it’s a Fitz whose self-worth is even more tied around how other people see him. His whole life is wrapped around this chase for the approval of two people who are using him for truly evil purposes. This is something I can never forgive AIDA for, because she did this to him on purpose. She saw Fitz’s flaw, his lack of self-worth, and saw a characteristic that can be a strength or flaw depending on how it’s used: Fitz’s determination to protect his loved ones by any means necessary. Seeing this in him, she exploited it to the fullest extent she was capable. She made him a monster. She tricked him into killing innocents. She deceived him into believing that what he was doing was right and necessary.

And this where we see why Jemma is such an important person in his life. Jemma is as smart as he is, and Jemma has a multitude of things on common with him, but this is not what makes Jemma important. Jemma is more than a friend and more than a love interest because she is kind, compassionate, and she sees the people around her as valuable and important. She cares more about what other people need than she does about what she wants. Jemma is in SHIELD to help people, and through the seasons we have seen her help people even in impossible circumstances. Even when she’s wrong, she always has loving intentions. And really, this is something Fitz and Jemma have in common, but while Fitz channels it into saving people, Jemma channels it into healing them. (Sometimes Jemma saves, sometimes Fitz heals, but generally, they have a specific focus.)

Because of his weakness, Fitz is vulnerable to being controlled, but Jemma doesn’t want to control. Fitz is vulnerable to feeling inadequate, but Jemma knows he has infinite value and, through the seasons, learns how important it is for Fitz to understand that. In season one, Jemma was fooled by Fitz’s bravado, but she saw the truth when his mask was taken off in season two. She didn’t know how to help him, but she figured it out in season three. She fought for him with boldness in season four. In season five, she is aware of his wounds and stands by, ready to give him whatever he needs to heal.

So, anon, you see why I think Fitz already has everything he needs to resolve his issues with his father. Alistair is not capable of giving Fitz what Jemma can give him, especially if he is still the abusive man Fitz knew. One of the hard truths in this life is that we don’t always get closure from the people who hurt us. We can, though, move past that pain by moving past that person and surrounding ourselves with better people. 

TL;DR: When I look at the big picture, I don’t see Alistair as a loose end needing to be tied up. I see him as a piece of Fitz’s larger journey to conquer his weaknesses. We’ve been on this journey with Fitz for five seasons, and I don’t see it ending any time soon. We are getting resolution for his relationship with Alistair with his struggles in prison, with his proposal to Jemma, and with his heroic entrance as a savior. The return of Alistair would be more of a distraction than a benefit for Fitz as he continues to discover who he is and what he means in this universe.