#he administers them to himself after everything goes to shit

[milfmerlin]

NAME: "Aviv" and "Dumbass" under Chaldea's records.

ORIGIN: Previously Change, until it somehow.. changed.

DESIGN NOTES: The Seal of Sytry is black, and the command seal only becomes red after Mash is contracted. The shape of his pupil is to reflect the eyes of the demon pillars. The cloak is a gift from David after the events of Timeless Temple, before the mass desummoning. His hair is turning white from the tips rather than the roots.

FAMILY: The Ledbeter family, a once-prestigious and matriarchal mage family who mysteriously all perished in a fire set on their estate. Aviv had previously been assumed to have also died, but after the events of the Final Singularity, the publication of his face gave no choice but to reopen the investigation.

The Ledbeters initially specialized in persuasion magecraft, eventually becoming known for full body and mind possessions and transfers. As an entire family is harder to regulate than instances of Mystic Eyes with that same ability, the Mages Association put into place that the Ledbeters must only use their family magecraft on familiars or prisoners. Thus, the family shifted their focus to familiars ever since. However, all heirs are expected to excel in the original, banned craft, whether they can use it or not.

HISTORY: There are certain familiars not meant to be contracted, but a certain heir had become desperate. In the heir's young age and desperation to escape its own life, The Lesser Key of Solomon became a key item.

The summoning had been successful, the ten year old summoned a full-fledged demon; the Grand Prince, Sytry. While that truly shouldn't have happened, the demon collective had merely sent off a "forgettable" demon to sabotage who they knew would be their eventual enemy.

Unfortunately, the demon became attached very quickly, and decided that he'd have some fun playing house for a while before shoving the kid down the wrong path. Hotel hopping, convenience store thieving, and getting into fights became the norm for the master-and-familiar duo out on the run. Despite the stark contrast from one life to the next, Aviv adjusted quickly. To the stealing and the fighting, of course. Not anything good. Aviv and his totally-not-dad got by on sheer charisma, chutzpah, and brute force.

But, even a delinquent needs a job, and Sytry steered him into the direction of Chaldea, choosing to pose as an average cat familiar.

Luckily, Marisbury loves people with no records and no searchable history, so the job came easy.

Everything that came after that, though...

[veryace-ficrecs]

Psych (2006) Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Shawn And The Real(er) Psychics Of Santa Barbra by Beaconbaconbison - Rated G

Shawn isn't a psychic. He's just some guy who got struck by lighting and woke up having visions about things he couldn't possibly know. That seems on par with the rest of his life. Right? He really. Really. Really isn't psychic. Even if these visions are helping solve a murder. He's just very observant. That's all.

Gus Knows Shawn Knows That He's Telling The Truth by ObsidianCreates - Rated T

"Really?" Shawn looks at Gus, completely unamused. "The websites say they work." "Crystals." Shawn gestures at his desk. "You have covered my entire workspace with crystals. This is getting sad, man." When Gus asks Shawn how his memory actually works, the answer causes both of them to stumble into a huge realization. It will be used irresponsibly, of course.

Sounds Getting Softer by Corilyn_Winchester - Rated T

When Shawn Spencer was 15 his ears buzzed at night when it was quiet. When Shawn Spencer was 19 he was diagnosed with idiopathic hearing loss. When Shawn Spencer was 23 he got his first set of hearing aids. This story follows the life of Shawn Spencer, a Shawn Spencer who is slowly lossing his hearing due to unknown reasons.

as inexhaustible and unpredictable as real human beings by Princex_N - Rated G

Sometimes people don't always quite believe that Shawn is autistic. Sometimes they laugh like they're waiting for the punchline, or try to convince him that he's mistaken, or try to guess if he's testing the waters for Gus, or get angry like he's trying to lie. Shawn considers the varying reactions he gets when he tells people he's autistic.

Shawn Spencer is Nobody's Agatha by huckleberryzenon - Rated G

Oneshot set after "Psy vs. Psy." After the disaster that is Lindsay Leiken, the FBI decides it's time to begin psychological evaluations of all the psychics who consult with law enforcement, starting with one Shawn Spencer. Shawn's confident he'll pass with flying colors, but what if the danger isn't in getting found out, but the person administering the test?

Succulent Crab Cakes by PapayaK - Rated T

Gus knew his best friend's greatest fear: Shawn's mind was his super-power. He feared losing that power more than he feared death. Confusion was Shawn's kryptonite and he was staring it in the face. Poisoned by a neurotoxin, Shawn must fight the effects long enough to solve the case and save the day. Shawn whump, with lots of friendship and family thrown in. Rated T just in case.

same eyes as your father by ace8013, flashsideways - Rated T

“Hi, Dad,” Shawn said. Henry, taken aback, said, “Shawn.” Shawn’s always been tall but he was broad, now, hair cropped close on the sides and messy on top. His jaw had an edge to it now, he had a slight five o’clock shadow, and he just looked more like—more like himself. or Twenty-five years after his son comes out, Henry Spencer goes to a support group for parents of transgender children. Because they didn’t have this shit back in his day.

as you cut everything to size by flashsideways - Rated T

Shawn Spencer arrives in Santa Barbara on a nine-year-old motorcycle, in four-day old clothes, and with a bottle of painkillers in his backpack. He cracks his knuckles and asks, “Where’s the fire?” or, Shawn Spencer has bad joints. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Too Many Hats, AKA: How Shawn Spencer Became a For Realsies Psychic by WalkerInTheMoonlight - Not Rated

Shawn Spencer was always aware of how many hats were in a room, whether he wanted to be or not. He didn't think anything of it until The Hat Convention incident that changed everything. Or: Shawn becomes psychic because he needs to count the hats.

[youngpettyqueen]

For the Hurt/Comfort Dialogue: "I know it hurts, but just hold on a little longer!" Holding their hand once the pain becomes unbearable Charleshawk, please! 💜

ALRIIIIIIGHT this one was very hard to write for some reason but I finally got something im satisfied with. I tried to go for shorter here, but I dont think that quite worked. whoops

The ground shakes as another shell strikes earth somewhere far too close. Charles very nearly pitches over onto Hawkeye, catching himself by bracing one hand against the rickety wall. Hawkeye groans painfully and Charles does his best to ease himself off quickly, relaxing the pressure he’s putting against the wound in Hawkeye’s temple but still keeping his hand in place.

“Sorry, sorry.” He bites out. These are hardly ideal circumstances for first aid; battalion aid is a night mare on a good day, but the shelling is so close it’s managing to make everything much more difficult. The walls and ceiling shake with every explosion, cascading dust on their heads and covering everything in an additional layer of dirt and dust on top of the usual grime, and it’s nearly impossible for him to keep his balance. Still, he has a job to do. 

Charles eases some of the pressure off the surgical sponge he’s holding to Hawkeye’s temple, checking the damage underneath. Hawkeye’s skin is smeared red with blood, and there’s an angry bruise already forming around the still-weeping scrape in his temple. Charles carefully dabs at the fresh blood that beads there, before going back to maintaining steady pressure.

Hawkeye winces, his face screwing up in pain. Charles notices his teeth are painted red- he must’ve bitten his tongue, or the inside of his cheek. He’ll have to check later. For now, the head wound is his priority. The bleeding has slowed significantly in only a few minutes, which means he likely won’t have to do stitches, but that’s a small relief when there’s a very real possibility that Hawkeye’s skull might be fractured. 

All it took was one shell that hit a bit too close. The explosion shook the entire station, threw everyone standing to the ground, left Charles with his ears ringing. He managed to wobble up on unsteady legs, shaky from the shock, only to feel his heart stop dead when he saw Hawkeye crumpled in a heap on the ground, disoriented and weak, blood weeping down his face. He pulled Hawkeye over to the nearest wall and got him braced against it, giving him easier access to administer first aid.

Charles didn’t see exactly what happened, but he can put the pieces together based on their environment. His best guess is that when Hawkeye got knocked off his feet by the explosion, he bashed his head against the operating table he was standing by. Luckily he hadn’t sliced himself open on an edge. Luckily he hadn’t broken his bloody neck. 

“If I ask you questions, do you think you can answer them?” He asks.

“I’m concussed,” Hawkeye informs him bluntly, apparently seeing what he's getting at, “But… sure.” He agrees.

Charles is inclined to agree with that diagnosis. In fact, he’s hoping that’s all it is. Still, he has to check. “Right,” He says. “Do you remember what you were doing right before you hit your head?” 

Hawkeye squeezes his eyes shut, focusing. “…Shell went off,” He manages to recall, “Close by. But… nothing after that,” He admits, opening his eyes again, “Goes all black.” 

Charles nods. At least he remembers that much. “Do you know the date?” 

“Not even on a good day.” Hawkeye replies.

“The year, then.” Charles prompts.

Hawkeye has to think about it for a moment, before he answers, “1952.” 

“Correct,” Charles tells him, “How about the month?”

“Shit,” Hawkeye mutters quietly, eyes searching the ceiling like it might hold the answers, “Ah… June?”

“July,” Charles corrects him. Not the most damning answer, seeing as it's only the 2nd, but still not ideal, “Do you know where you are?” He continues.

Hawkeye looks around, squinting. “Not… the 4077,” He replies, though he sounds uncertain about it, “It’s… it’s Korea, but not… the 4077. I can’t…” He grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut again, “I can’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” Charles murmurs. He checks under the sponge again. The beading of new blood is delayed, “Can you follow this?” He brings his free hand in front of Hawkeye's face and holds up a finger, moves it slowly from side to side and watches Hawkeye try to track it with his eyes. He’s squinting painfully, and there’s a definite struggle to keep up before he shuts his eyes again, “Any dizziness, nausea? How’s your headache?” He asks.

“Yes, yes, and bad,” Hawkeye tells him, not opening his eyes, “If you make me do that again, I’m gonna throw up on you.” He warns. 

“I don’t need to,” Charles assures him, “I think you were right- seems like a concussion,” He takes the sponge away from Hawkeye’s temple and tosses it aside, “I won’t be able to check for any fractures until we return to camp and I can get you x-rayed. For now, I still need to clean and dress that wound.” He explains.

Hawkeye’s eyes widen slightly. It’s probably the most alarm he’s capable of displaying at present. “You sure you can’t just let me lay here and bleed?” He asks, “I don’t… I don’t mind bleeding. ’S not so bad, really.” He tries. 

Charles rummages through his bag and pulls out a small bottle of alcohol, as well as a rag, a dressing pad, and a roll of bandages. He checks for morphine, for any sort of painkiller, but he doesn’t have any. He’d used them up on the patients earlier. “I’m not letting you breed new strains of infection in that,” He tells him firmly, tone leaving no room for argument. He pops the bottle open and pours some of the alcohol into his palm, then sets aside the bottle and starts rubbing the alcohol all over his hands like he’s washing them. When he looks up and finds unmasked fear written all over Hawkeye’s face, he softens his tone and adds, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Hawkeye watches him take the rag and douse it with the remaining alcohol. “Promise?” He asks weakly, looking like he might be sick. 

“Promise,” Charles replies, swift and firm, “Now, do your best to hold still.”

It’s as painful as expected. Charles takes the rag to the wound and a strangled, animal cry rips itself out of Hawkeye the second it touches his skin. He jerks back against the wall, instinctively trying to get away, and Charles has to brace his hand against his cheek and hold him in place to keep working. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Charles murmurs, not expecting the ache of sympathy he feels as Hawkeye continues to wheeze painfully under his touch, “I’m almost finished, just a bit more…” 

True to his word, Charles is done within moments. He tosses aside the rag as soon as he’s finished, then snatches up the dressing pad to tear open and press against the wound. Hawkeye groans against his teeth, hitting the ground a few times as Charles applies pressure to the wound again.

Charles gives him a moment to collect himself. Hawkeye is gasping for breath, slumped back against the wall with his eyes shut tight. “I’m going to need your hand for this next part,” He tells him quietly, “Do you think you can manage that?”

“Give… give me a second,” Hawkeye wheezes, not opening his eyes. He’s digging his fingers into the floor, his knuckles white, “Trying not to… trying not to pass out…” 

That would be a mercy for him right now. Unfortunately, it’s not an option. “Here,” Charles reaches over and works his hand into Hawkeye’s, “Squeeze. Hard as you like. It’ll help.” He offers.

Hawkeye wraps his fingers around Charles’ hand and squeezes. Hard. It borders on painful, but Charles takes it without complaint. He keeps a close eye on Hawkeye, ready to catch him just in case he does pass out.

“Breathe, Pierce,” He advises, as Hawkeye’s breathing doesn’t seem to be coming any easier. He’s bordering on hyperventilating, “Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Hawkeye manages a couple deeper breaths, and Charles rubs his thumb over the back of his knuckles, “That’s it. Keep breathing.”

Hawkeye tilts his head back against the wall. “It hurts,” He admits quietly, nearly whimpering, “God, Charles, it hurts so damn bad…”

“I know,” Charles murmurs. What he’d give for morphine right now… “I know it hurts, Hawkeye, but just hold on a little longer. You’ll be able to rest soon.” That’s a damn lie and he knows it. He hasn’t even finished properly treating him yet, he still needs to bandage the wound. Then he’ll need to drive them back to the 4077, which will be awful for both of them. And then, once they get back to the 4077, he’ll need to get Hawkeye into x-ray and treat him further from there. 

“Shit,” Hawkeye’s breathless chuckle snaps him out of his thoughts, “I must be in real bad shape…” He huffs.

Charles doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “What makes you say that?” He asks.

Hawkeye opens one eye to look at him, smiling faintly. Maybe he’s delirious. “You called me Hawkeye,” He says, “You never call me Hawkeye.”

Charles keeps his relief at that admission quiet. “Is that all,” He huffs, raising a brow at him, “I’m trying to be reassuring, nothing more. Bedside manner is part of the job, after all,” He reminds him, “You’re going to be fine. You just need to wait it out a little longer.” He gives Hawkeye’s hand a small, reassuring squeeze.

Hawkeye considers him for a moment. “…Thanks,” He murmurs at last, “For, ya know… trying,” He tilts his head back again, closes his eyes, “I know it’s not… I know it isn’t easy for you. Even if it is part of the job description.” 

He’s got him there. Charles isn’t great with the empathy side of the job- his word choice never seems to be right, his tone always seems to be off. But somehow, right now, it seems… easier. Maybe because this is Hawkeye, and sympathy and concern physically ache in his chest, twinging every time Hawkeye so much as winces.

He doesn’t know how to voice that, though. So he simply says, “…You’re welcome.”

Hawkeye hums his acknowledgement. A beat passes, before he asks, “Can I ask another favour?”

Charles nods. “Go ahead.” He invites.

“Would you… keep talking to me?” Hawkeye tilts his head back down, opens heavy, drooping eyes, “Tell me a story, recite a textbook, just… keep talking. It’s getting hard to keep my eyes open. I’m…” He hesitates for a moment, before dragging his eyes up to meet Charles’ “I’m scared I’ll fall asleep.” He admits.

Charles needs to bandage the wound. His arm aches from holding the dressing in place. “Alright,” He says anyways. He raises Hawkeye’s hand up to his forehead, moving slowly as he continues, “Here, let’s put your hand here… have I ever told you about my family home?” He places Hawkeye’s hand where his was, holds it there until he’s putting pressure on the dressing himself. He leans in, then, continuing on as he picks up the bandages and gets to work winding it carefully around Hawkeye’s head, “Last I was there, it was summer. My mother’s garden was in full bloom, and Honoria and I…” 

He tells Hawkeye about walking through the garden, painting as vivid a picture he can of warm summer days, cobblestone paths, and vibrant flowers. He works with careful hands, knowing that he’ll have to get Hawkeye up and load him into the Jeep sooner rather than later, and pitch him headfirst back into agony to drive back to camp. He can be gentle for a moment, though. Just for a moment. Just this once.

[percontaion-points]

Gate Crashers chapters 39 & 40

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 39

The firefight ended in victory, but at a cost. Simmons was KIA after taking a pulse in the neck, leaving the assault shuttle short a pilot.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE!! 

This is the problem when you don’t bother to explore characters: when somebody dies, nobody gives a shit. 

“Yes, but how long until we wish he hadn’t?”

Chapter 39 summary: The aliens rush to the second in command to tell them about the destruction that the humans left in their wake. The newly appointed leader sits back and lets the humans escape, with D’armic in tow. However, it’s only after they’ve left the alien ship that the alien leader goes “it’s terrible all of the destruction that the humans caused. Nobody would blame us for having destroyed both of their ships!” 

Onboard Maggie, Allison is surprised to find that things are pretty calm. Billings tells her that when the aliens boarded their ship, he used the safety alarms to “herd them like cattle”. From there, they trapped the aliens into a storage room and sealed the door. 

Max then gets on a call with the aliens, and randomly asks if they know how to juggle. This is immediately followed by both ships launching every single missile at the aliens. Although they’re ready to defend themselves, 153 missiles is a lot for anybody to take all at once. 

Chapter 40

She shuffled toward the mess like an extra in a Romero flick…

What the fuck does this even mean? 

Is this yet another reference that’s older than I am? How old is this author even?

“But on a personal level, I think his success has made him a bit too full of himself.”

 “Oh? Who should he be full of?” 

Allison shook her head and smiled. “No one. It’s just an expression.”

That is not correct. Max is full of his own ego. 

“As I said, grieve not for J’quol. Soon, we will avenge him, and the Earth herself will serve as his funeral pyre.”

Chapter 40 summary: Allison later goes to the mess hall, where she finds D’armic. He’s eating, and the fear-drug administered to him has worn off. He tells her that his ship was destroyed when the alien ship was destroyed. But goes on to say that he needs to report this right away to The Council. Allison reminds him that he didn’t want the humans to go before The Council, but D’armic tells her that everything has changed now. Mainly, that those other aliens wanted to destroy the humans and make themselves look guilt-less. Allison tells him that they can get moving as soon as the jumping-drive thing on the other ship has been fixed. 

Meanwhile, the aliens who were killed had families. And upon finding out about the deaths of their loved ones, they seek revenge… on the humans living on earth. 

[lordymaru]

I'm about to refute this entire essay with the simple explanation being:

The only interaction we've seen of these two is when she's a freaking 8 year old. Your self insert shows no boundaries.

And this is probably the last time I'll make a post about the stupidity behind the way the pair is viewed:

Note: I know there's people out there with a brain who ship these two in a more conventional way. In the end you do you, ship whatever you want, no one can prevent you from doing that, just don't be gross about it.

One of the parts being the Significance of their first encounter:

She’s a poor peasant girl who’s suffered immense trauma, suffering, and loneliness. Her initiative to help Sesshomaru came from her generosity

Exactly, she's alone for her family had been killed before her eyes, the villagers treat her like garbage. When she meets Sess he's wounded and simply in a bad state, both mentally and physically. Both of them are, the difference being he's a demon, a powerful one and for him to have ended in such a bad shape only stabbed at his pride- Rin on the other hand is a child, a human tiny child who is vulnerable and to him she poses no threat. Both of them are weak then.

At this point, it’s observable that despite knowing her story, her scars, and her difficulties, humans do not even empathize, let alone sympathize with Rin. It is the feudal era, after all. She’s a young, disabled orphan and the villagers only see her for what she lacks: a voice, a family, and a place of belonging.

Again with your feudal era shit. I can assure you the world is just as ugly today as it was before you and I existed. Next.

When he asks about her bruises, this is the first time anyone had ever afforded her a second glance.

This was a huge step forward for Sess, a huuuuuuge one for he showed interest in another living creature, not just any creature but a human. And for her it was probably like Christmas, for no one had showed her any mercy or interest. Ok you get a point. But oh, boy, how I'm about to spit on the next one:

The audience can see Sesshomaru calculate her body language, recognizing that she is mute. Instead of pressing her further or ignoring her outright, he attempts to comfort her (in his own way), making her feel that it is okay if she chooses not to answer him; that her desire to reply to him should only be a desire, not an obligation. I think, on one hand, that was the first moment of something that would resemble compassion that Sesshomaru had ever administered, trying to put himself in her shoes — if someone had asked him to do something that required, for example, his left arm, he probably would have appreciated them saying “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” so to provide him agency for something that he actually cannot do. And the same goes for Rin. He recognizes her disability, maybe even resonates with it and decides to empower her with a choice. Choice is important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic and it’s a word that will come up often. 

Ok why are you comparing the loss of his arm to her not being able to talk? Not all disabilities are the same, you moron. Or am I dumb for thinking this way? If so, feel free to call me out on my lack of common sense kr whatever you wanna call it. Sess physically couldn't do shit with his left arm because well- it was gone! That's a physical disability. Rin had "lost" her voice after what she witnessed and so she wouldn't speak anymore. Have you heard of Psychogenic Dysphonia? If not, you can click here and give it a reading or do your own research. The more you know: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0892199703000158

So you say he "empowers her with a choice" that is "important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic" let me get this straight, a choice because why? She's a child? A female? Because you said so yourself, it's the Feudal Era after all and therefore women had no choice in life, no voice, no agency, no nothing. So he was being magnanimous then? You know... This is where you start edging into the gr00ming territory. Can't you see? No? Alright, moving on.

BRUH WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you fucking good? See how you self insert? Bye. Next

The next time Sesshomaru sees Rin, it is suggested that he actively sought her, whether it be by curiosity or concern for well-being

He did... It is not suggested, he actually did asdfhkl. For both curiosity and he probably was worried. He also states he wants to test out his sword, what a perfect chance to do so for Rin is pretty much dead and that's the only way to make his sword work. So she was both being a guinea pig and an itch he wasn't quite sure how to scratch. Next.

Silence Rin.

Rin screams endlessly, annoying Sesshomaru. Firstly, this is the first time we hear him call her by her name. Secondly, Sesshomaru is visibly annoyed by her noises, however, he does not tell her to “shut up” as he normally would with Jaken or even InuYasha. He simply says “enough of that Rin, stop it.” (In Japanese he says, “Silence, Rin. You make too much noise.”) Even analyzing the Japanese dialogue, it is evidently softer than Sesshomaru’s usual ‘kisama’ (貴樣) manner of speech that we see depicted usually. This is the first time he’s had a companion who is not a demon, someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return. His softer tone is a logical deduction to make.

Ok... "someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return." Bruh... As if he would even consider meeting someone's expectations. Are you sure you're talking about Sess? Another thing is, he always speaks in a calm tone, he rarely yells or loses his composure- he had no reason to be rude to her either, you're excusing his regular behavior simply because she ain't Jaken. Anything else?

Rin doesn't change Sesshomaru overnight, it's a gradual and long process

Well duh!!! Just like you don't lose the pounds you gained from eating in one sit 12 donuts a week ago. Stating the obvious and for what? What's exactly your mf point?

The silence part is important, idk how to tell you there is a power imbalance in their relationship from the moment he tells her to be quiet. He didn't say please, he didn't ask her to, he told her to be quiet. Like a parent would, if I could count the times my mom told me to shush.... That's your first indicator he is not her friend, he is not her equal.

Letting you Be Yourself: The Panther Demon Arc

the first frame the audience sees in the anime sets the scene, painting the Sessshomaru entourage in a serene manner, indicating a level of comfort between group members (episode 75). This is vastly different from our last depiction of Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship. In episode 44, he was unable to withstand her (albeit annoying) childish antics. But here, it’s observable that Sesshomaru can accept her and her package of unconventional fun. Not only does he tolerate and even more so, accept Rin, but he accepts her influence on his vassal, Jaken and allows them to be free around him.

Is called developing patience. I can assure you that when you're a parent or an older bro/sis and your kid/younger sibling is noisy af you either learn to tolerate that or get used to it for kids are kids abd you have to let them be kids. Next.

She's a child, she's not stupid.

The Abducted Rin: Calling her Name

The respect that Sesshomaru shows Rin is insurmountable. However, the InuYasha franchise is clever to portray the subtlety of Sesshomaru’s respect for her. KV on Twitter points out how highly he regards his companion and never relegates her to anything less than the value that she as a person embodies (@KVndie via Twitter). He consistently humanizes her. 

He only sees how important she is to him after her ass dies a second time. What do you mean? He respects her enough to not coddle her, she is independent and taught her to be self sufficient from the very start. That's respect. He consistently humanizes her because... She ... Is ... Human! OMG WHAT A SHOCKER!

As Naraku remarks on his hostage to Sesshomaru, "Naturally, the girl you're looking for is not here…,” he continues, “the girl is in custody outside of the castle..." Naraku never makes an attempt to give her personhood, leaving her unnamed, disposable, and relegating her to a mere "girl." But Sesshomaru doesn’t take any of this. He is a cold-hearted Daiyokai, yet he still makes an effort and upholds his principle to refer to her as Rin — not a replaceable “girl.”

Naraku is a mf genius. It didn't quite click until now he wanted to see if she was important or not to him and to what extent. For he planned his moves that way, making people turn against one another. While he wouldn't have made Rin turn against Sess he set everything up so he would end up wanting to kill Kohaku and in doing so, Inugang would have engaged against Sess.

Sesshomaru’s insistence on using Rin’s name isn’t only highlighted in this isolated incident though. It pays off. It is an ongoing theme in their dynamic throughout the series.

That's her name ... How you want him to call her? Baby?

I could go on and on but... This is a fucking essay. And then I stumble against more bullcrap:

The second point I want to highlight here is Sesshomaru’s reaction to Rin’s fall and her risky expedition. At this point, it’s unquestionable that Rin has a special place in his heart.

Of course she has a special spot in his heart. I won't deny that. What worries me is how you're trying to justify the way she's important to him since she was a child. As if his way of seeing her had changed.

I'm gonna disagree by agreeing with you in a few pointers. Kagome and Kikyo were rivals, they both romantically love the same guy. Kagome being the only one who could save Kikyo chooses to help her, knowing damn well Inuyasha would have suffered if Kikyo had died- further more, if it was in Kagome's hands to do something about it.

Rin on the other hand, I will applaud to her how she grew past her fear of Kagura after being kidnapped by her, she saw her body in the river and said fuck it and did her best to try to pull her from the water. I loved how stubborn and brave she was, even tho Sess had to pull everyone out of the water- she deserves a gold star. You go baby girl!!!

Rin later makes a cheeky comment, noting Kagura’s romantic interest in Sesshomaru. Jaken brushes this off as childish naivety. But for the spectator, this establishes two things: (1) That Rin does not see Kagura as a rival for Lord Sesshomaru’s attention, let alone affection; and (2) that Rin is still a child. Rin is certainly a child, with a youthful and fresh outlook on life that brings out the best in people. But even as a child, her relationship with Sesshomaru is incredibly healthy, clear, and surprisingly communicative.

Why would she? She's not a spoiled brat

Nah? I thought her double D indicated otherwise. OF COURSE SHE'S A MF CHILD.

Why do you keep mentioning is healthy? Do you need reassurance of it? Communicative in what way? Cuz if you wanna talk about communication let's talk about how he didn't even acknowledge her ass when she gave birth. He didn't even say her name, didn't even look at her. Tell me now how they are communicative and healthy?

I could go on, I really but all I'm getting from this load of bullshit I'm forcing myself to read is how you do in fact need to reassure yourself thr ship is god tier and is... How you said it was? Ah, healthy.

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you see any typo ... My apologies, I tried. Also if you have any input or I was out of line in some way, my apologies once more.

[amelialincoln]

The Way Life Goes (2)

She thic and she important. Feel free to leave part 3 prompts or theories in my ask box. As always, enjoy...

TW: substance abuse

“Have you seen Amelia?” Was the first thing the general surgeon asked Link at the beginning of the work week on Monday. Link shrugged, pushing his overgrown shaggy hair out of his face and tugging his Ipad aggressively out of the charger.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. Meredith eyed him in a way that made him uncomfortable enough to continue. “Scout and I have been crashing at Jo’s since Friday. I’d assume she’s at my apartment.” He didn’t get very far before Meredith stepped in front of him.

“Look, as irritating as it is, the minute shit is going down in her life she’s at my house in seconds. She didn’t come to the after party and hasn’t shown up for her shift yet today. I really doubt she’s just hanging out in your apartment.” She crossed her arms, looking somewhat terrifying, despite the fact that he loomed over her.

“I can't talk right now, I have surgery.” He replied, pushing back any fears of where she might be and focusing on the chart in front of him.

“She rejects your proposal and now you’re just done? What happened to you guys?” Link’s jaw tightened so hard you could hear the sound of his teeth clashing.

“She doesn’t want to be with me. It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t think she doesn’t want to be with you. She just obviously isn’t ready to get married. And I think you knew that.”

“Whatever, Meredith.” Link’s throat was tight as he pushed past her, swallowing down his guilt.

She had somehow found herself to Link's apartment in a daze, praying he wasn’t there as she pushed through the door. He wasn’t. She grabbed some clean clothes and more cash before leaving once again.

It was somewhat exhilarating, living on the edge. Chasing high after high and making sure that the timing is perfect to prevent any meaningful thoughts from actually surfacing. So far she'd been excelling at it. However, it was when she was halfway back that she realized she had fucked up. Anger and self hatred hit her like a ton of bricks and she almost staggered back. The high had worn off and her mind had started to scream. You are so weak. Back here again after you promised the last time was the end. So many promises, she thought. So many empty promises that she’d broken time and time again. The promise that she’d made to be a good mother. Failed, again. Why should she even attempt to pick up the broken pieces after she found herself back to square one each time? Why not stop trying to fix it and just accept herself for who she truly is, an addict? Why keep disappointing the people that care about her over and over? There was no point. Not anymore. Scout’s name was blaring in her mind like an alarm. He’s better out without you. She convinced herself. Don’t let yourself ruin him. You destroy everything you touch.

“Amelia.” Camilla was looking at her weird. She tried to focus on her new friend, attempting to calm her shaking hands. “Wait too long?” She asked, digging into her bag. All Amelia could do was nod and pull out the cash. “This one’s on me.” Camilla placed a reassuring hand on Amelia’s shoulder as she rolled up her sleeve. She paused, with bated breath, until the image of Scout faded from her mind.

“Can you hear me?” Meredith practically yelled into the crackling phone. “I’m sorry, I know this is your honeymoon. I just still haven’t heard from her and you know her better than me so I need you to tell me what I should do.”

“Is this about Amelia?” Maggie’s groggy voice asked into the speakerphone. “You still haven’t heard from her?”

“I wouldn’t have called if I hadn't. I’m worried about her.” She could practically hear Maggie’s hesitation. “Don’t come back. Don’t even offer that.”

“She’s been having a rough time,” Maggie sighed. “Richard doesn’t let on too much but I know COVID has been hard on her. Link has good intentions. He just hasn’t ever had to see her at her lowest.”

“You think she’s using?” Meredith’s voice was hushed as she passed her Ipad to a nurse and thanked her quietly before letting herself into her office.

“I mean if I rejected a proposal from a man who meant a lot to me because I wasn’t ready I’d probably down a bottle of wine out of guilt." Maggie smiled bitterly.

“She’s stayed sober through a lot worse,” Meredith countered, glancing up to find Bailey waiting at the door with an expression she knew too well. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Tell Winston I say hi.”

“I will. Talk to you later.” Meredith placed her cell phone in her scrub pocket before meeting an irritated Bailey at the door.

“Where’s Shepherd?” Meredith knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. She bit the inside of her cheek, not knowing how to respond.

“Why?” She asked, receiving an eyebrow raise.

“Because she’s got a gliosarcoma in an hour and she hasn’t clocked in,” Bailey stated, fixing her lab coat and giving Meredith an exasperated look. “Look, whatever drama she and Doctor Lincoln are having, I don’t care. She can show up to work.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Meredith responded. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Wha--” Bailey started. She let out a grunt of disapproval before waving an agitated hand in the air and storming off. Meredith bit the nail on her thumb, sending yet another message to the missing neurosurgeon and wondered guiltily, for a moment, why she was so self destructive.

Link spent a lot of time in the ER compared to his colleagues. Compared to most other specialties, the majority of cases that presented themselves in the emergency room were ortho related. Most of the time it was pretty mundane, whether it be a broken ankle or a dislocated shoulder, but to keep the hospital from impending lawsuits, he was usually needed to supervise the interns, who were prowling in the ER looking for cases and trying to pop limbs back into place or reset joints, thinking they could handle it easily on their own.

As a result of this, Link was already in the OR when the trauma came in. He was sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk, dragging his feet across the floor to propel him side to side. He wasn’t paged so he was unfazed by the ambulance pulling up. Then again, he wasn’t really fazed by much these days after falling into a somewhat self deprecating state. He stared at the clock, hoping he’d be let off early.

“Did you hear about this?” Bailey asked Richard, as she secured her gown around herself and handed him a pair of gloves.

“Yeah,” Richard’s voice was a tone that Link couldn’t quite decipher. “Bunch of overdoses at Quilchena, saw it on the news in the lounge. Must’ve been something laced in whatever they all were doing.” He snapped his gloves aggressively over his hands as if he were mad at something. “This kind of thing has been happening all the time because of COVID. Addicts have been struggling during the pandemic. Never seen meetings so full.” Link found himself wondering if he was talking about Amelia. Bailey nodded to Richard sympathetically ask they rushed to meet the gurney’s being pushed into the ER.

“John Doe,” the paramedic announced. “Got naloxone at the scene, friend administered it. Conscious but having trouble breathing.”

“Page cardio,” Bailey ordered to a resident. Link watched curiously as Richard froze in place.

“Jane Doe,” the paramedic continued. “Unconscious but breathing. She--”

“Put her in trauma one,” Richard ordered firmly. Link wished he could see what was going on as he watched the blood drain from Bailey’s face. “Don’t let anyone see her. She wouldn’t want that.” It clicked in Link’s brain at that very moment when the pair of them turned to look his way. He got out of the chair he was in so fast that it clattered to the ground behind him.

Her face was so pale it was practically grey and her arms and lips were tinted a purpley blue. She looked so slender he felt like one could reach out and just snap her in half. Her expression was almost peaceful though, and that’s what haunted him most. The image of her was burned into his mind immediately and he knew, as they wheeled her away, that it would never be forgotten.

As Bailey and Richard steered her gurney away he felt frozen in place before finally, and without any indication from his mind, his feet began to follow them.

“She’s seizing,” Bailey exclaimed, her hands flying up to either side of her head to avoid holding any of her limbs in place. “Where the hell is trauma?” Link watched as she twitched, bile building up in the back of his throat. He felt slightly dizzy. He’d never been one to get queasy, even in med school while the rest of his peers either fainted or threw up during their first time observing in an OR. That’s when he knew he wanted to become a surgeon. He wasn’t sure if it was his ego telling him that he was superior for being the last one standing or the tiny and quick glance of approval the attending gave him before going back to ignoring him completely. Though, there must be something different about seeing someone he loved in this situation because he had to place a hand on the doorway to steady himself and looked away. Teddy came through the doors at that moment, brushing past him as if he didn’t exist. For a reason he couldn't quite explain let out a breath of relief that it wasn’t Owen. Something in his mind was screaming your fault, your fault, your fault. And selfishly, he hoped that Meredith, or really anyone who cared for Amelia half as much as he did, wasn’t at the hospital, and theorized that she’d probably beat him to a pulp.

“Can I help?” He found himself croaking, receiving only a glance from Richard.

“Absolutely not,” the general surgeon replied firmly, before finally getting Amelia connected to the monitor. Everyone in the room kind of paused for a moment, reading the levels and unanimously thinking to themselves silently, fuck.

“She’s coding,” Teddy proclaimed, as the alarm-like sound began to reveal itself. Link’s heart sank and he reached out to grab her hand, ignoring Richard’s orders for him to leave. Her palm was cold like ice, but not the dead kind of cold. Cold as if she’d just run in and out of the water, grinning and calling to him as if the ocean’s touch had electrified her, sending a rush of serotonin through her veins. Link remembers that look from when they’d gone down to California, for a conference that she was speaking at, like it were yesterday. She’d convinced him to go swimming, despite it being mid February, and had explained that diving into the frigid waves replicated the feeling of euphoria she used to get when a really good high would hit her full force. She’d told him about how she would swim a lot when she was first getting sober, craving the way the world felt like it was on pause and the way that silence filled her ears when her head was completely underwater. That was really the last time she’d grinned at him like that. Right before Covid had really hit. The first time they’d left Scout for the weekend with his parents. Coming up out of that water like she had been brought back to life.

He’d been so blind. He’d watched her slip into a mindless routine. Go to work. Drive home. Feed the baby. Put the baby to bed. Go to bed. Wake up. Every day, over and over. She would walk around like a ghost, stuck between life and death. He had ignored the way she'd fill her free time with meetings and when she had started going to sleep before he got home, brushed it off as postpartum and told himself that everything between them was fine. Postpartum doesn’t last this long you idiot.

“Clear!” Teddy’s calm voice echoed through the room, snapping him back to reality, and he pulled away his hand last minute before her chest rose and fell. His eyes flicked to the heart monitor, nothing. “Again, charge to three fifty. Clear!” The room fell silent as the compression pads thumped. Nothing. Teddy paused, staring at the monitor.

“Dr. Altman?” The nurse called out. “Again?” Her voice was quiet as the trauma surgeon lifted a hand in response.

“Wait,” her voice had become soft. The monitor beeped as a small peak rose and fell. “Come on, Amelia,” Teddy muttered.

“Charge again,” Bailey ordered.

“Just give her a second,” Teddy pleaded, not taking her eyes off the screen. “She’s fighting.” The trio of doctors stared at the monitor while Link fixated his eyes on his girlfriend and slid his hand into hers once again, interlocking his fingers with hers. Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die. The monitor beeped, and then beeped again, and then again. Link forced himself to look up and watched as the numbers climbed.

“Thank you, god.” Bailey brought a shaking hand to her face before closing her fingers into a fist and pressing it to her forehead. “We are lucky that the lord is looking out for this woman because the people in her life seem to not be.” The comment cut through Link like a knife.

“Bailey, that is not fair!” Richard exclaimed. Link had never heard the man raise his voice with such aggravation, even Bailey winced as she stormed out of the room, throwing her gloves to the side.

“She’s lost a lot of people...and a lot of surgeons,” Richard muttered in apology to him.

“Can she breathe on her own?” Link choked, looking at Teddy, who shifted on her feet.

“She’s weak. I’d like to keep the tube in for a couple of hours at least. See how she does. I’d also like to get neuro down here to give her a check. Let’s get her up to the ICU for now and monitor her closely. She’s stable. Let’s focus on that for now.” Link nodded, not knowing what else to say as Teddy pulled off her gown and tossed it into the bin before practically staggering out of the stuffy room.

“I didn’t know.” Something about the way Richard was looking his way was causing a buildup of defensiveness inside him.

“How?” Richard shook his head with disappointment, massaging his throbbing temple and trying to block out the emphysematous but rhythmic breath sounds coming from the breathing tube. “How, did you just not know?” His colleague was radiating judgment and Richard’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits before his entire body slumped, in no effort to lecture Link about something he should be hearing from Amelia. He looked at his friend, without a trace of condemnation, knowing, so easily, that it could be him in that hospital bed and her where he was standing. “It’s not my place,” he finally stated, tearing his eyes away from Amelia and blinking away any buildup in his tear ducts. He turned to the nurse and thanked her, always polite. “When you take her up can you make it discreet?” He knew the woman had recognized Amelia immediately. “Her reputation is on the line.” The nurse nodded as if she understood. Richard thanked her again before exiting the room.

Richard had ended up telling Meredith, who stopped by to let Link know that she and Hayes would pick up Scout from daycare and take him home with them. Link couldn’t read her expression, it was clouded as if she was undergoing an internal conflict that caused her to wince and look away upon glancing at Amelia. Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks, they looked as if someone had applied too much blush to a pale complexion and were hot to the touch. Teddy had removed the breathing tube about an hour ago. She’d gasped at first, her lungs whistling and wheezing in protest. Enough to make Teddy almost contemplate putting it back in before the breathing had settled.

“You didn’t look for her,” Meredith blurted out, as if she’d been trying to keep the words at bay. The look on her face told him that she regretted saying it almost immediately.

“Neither did you,” he bit back, more aggressively than he would’ve liked. Meredith’s face snapped away from him so quickly it was as if he’d physically hit her.

“If you really loved her. Enough to marry her. Her response shouldn’t have mattered,” her voice was as sharp as a knife. “She loves you and she’s been unfortunate enough to have most of the people she’s loved taken away from her. Do you know how rare it is for Amelia to come to Maggie and I teary eyed because she finally feels safe and loved and not being pressured into anything by the person she loves? " Meredith took a step back as if she didn't want to continue but couldn't help herself. "Amelia is a runner. She breaks under the expectations that the people that she loves have of her and she functions under the fear that the people she loves are going to leave her or die. So if you want to be an ass and make her feel like she isn’t enough for you because she doesn’t feel the need to commemorate her love to you on a stupid peice of paper, I will remove you from my sister’s life.” She was gone before he could even think of a reply and he stared wordlessly at the spot she’d just vacated.

“No,” the voice was so soft he could barely hear it. His head whipped to where she was lying. “No, no, no, no.” Amelia’s eyes were wide and she recoiled as he reached out to touch her. Her heart monitor climbed and he pulled back his hand. She was looking at him in a way that made his skin crawl. He realized, then, that she was looking at him in fear. She looked scared. It shocked him how quickly everything had fallen apart. How quickly he’d gone from someone she’d loved to someone she felt as though she barely knew. But it wasn’t really that quickly, a part of him was whispering over his shoulder. You just didn’t want to accept it.

“Hey.” The words sounded stupid as soon as they left his mouth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He found himself wondering what had happened to her over the last couple of days, the bruises scattered along her arms had become more evident as colour had returned to her skin. She gagged suddenly, moaning in a way that made him sick and he slid a kidney dish under her just in time. There didn’t seem to be much in her stomach so it was mostly dry heaving. Her heart monitor climbed every time he tried to touch her and he gave up on trying to hold back her hair.

“She’s awake?” Teddy stood in the doorway. Amelia looked up at her blankly before laying her head back against the hospital bed and staring up at the ceiling. The shame in her eyes were evident. Link nodded to Teddy, who gave him a somewhat genuine smile. “I’ll just do a quick vitals check.”

“No,” Amelia moaned, the pain in her voice causing Teddy to stop in her tracks. “I just want to go home. Let me go home.”

“You’re not going to go home though, are you?” Link glanced up to find Richard standing at the foot of the hospital bed, arms crossed. His stern expression was slightly wavering. Link wondered how hard it was for him to even be within two meters of her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amelia spat, pulling her IV out of her wrist and throwing it across the room hard enough that the machine screeched against the concrete floor. Link grimaced as the IV site began to bleed. The sudden bout of energy seemed to exhaust her as she collapsed back onto the bed.

“We’re good for now, Doctor Altman,” Richard said softly, not wanting to watch as his coworker, and friend, incriminated herself in front of someone she’d regret. “You can go home with Maggie or I can check you into a rehab clinic, the choice is yours.” Link’s eyes fell to the floor, his face burning at the idea that he couldn’t be trusted to take care of her.

“Maggie’s on her honeymoon,” Amelia mumbled, the anger dying out in her eyes as she realized what his response would be before he even spoke it.

“I called her,” Richard confirmed her prediction. “Meredith is taking care of Scout and I shouldn’t even be in the same room as you.” Hot tears spilled down Amelia’s cheeks as she glared at him. You ruin everything. The voice in her head had been telling her over and over since she’d woken up.

“Rehab. I choose rehab. Call her and tell her not to come.” Maggie had arrived at the hospital an hour ago but Link decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Fine,” Richard sighed. “I’ll call right now.” He stepped outside where his daughter was waiting anxiously and placed both hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

“I need to go in and see her,” Maggie’s breathing was asynchronous, she held her shaky hands into her chest, trying to look into her sister’s hospital room.

“Don’t,” Richard warned. “She’s not herself right now. I shouldn’t have called and stressed you out. She chose rehab.” He watched as her face twisted in confusion.

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “Let me take her home.”

“I wasn’t expecting her to be this bad. It’s too much responsibility to put on anyone. I...I just don’t think it would be a good idea, Maggie.” He pulled her into a hug as she started to sob.

“Link, is he…” she trailed off as she buried her face into her biological father’s scrub top.

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Richard sighed. “But out of everyone, he’s the last person that should be taking care of her right now.” Maggie nodded, cursing herself for not doing more as she had watched Amelia change over the last couple of months. “Has she mentioned anything about her friend Charlotte? She needs an ally, someone who understands how her brain works. I know how much you care about her, Maggie, but you can’t help her the way she really needs in a couple of days when the realization of what she’s done has hit.”

“Charlotte, the one in L.A.? I’ve talked to her a couple times, never really for too long, just over FaceTime when Amelia used to call her while living at Meredith’s.”

“Amelia brought her up a lot at meetings,” Richard bit the inside of his lip, hoping that he was making the right decision. “I think we need to call Charlotte. I think that she knows Amelia on a level that not any of us in Seattle can really understand.”

“Okay,” Maggie nodded, pushing her own feelings aside. “Get St. Ambrose Hospital in Los Angeles on the phone,” she loudly ordered to the intern, sitting at the nurses station, who had been just out of earshot, “And tell them I need to speak to Doctor Charlotte King.”

[youknow-igetit]

i’ve always had the headcanon that neil learns how to pole dance and dan helps teach him and i saw someone else post something similar to it (iconic of them, really) and it made me want to elaborate on my hc

some days, neil wakes up and he can’t stand looking in the mirror

he look in the mirror and despite the scars on his face and hands and the vibrant orange hoodie and the chipped nail polish on his hands, all he sees is his father’s eyes and hair and cold smile

so he usually finds himself at the gym building, blasting music in his ears and facing away from the wall of mirrors as he purposefully overworks himself so he’s too exhausted to care about the cold smile that he knows well

either that or he’s in the basement, hitting a punching bag with taped knuckles and pretending that the canvas is his father’s face, lola’s, romero’s, sometimes even his mother’s

one morning he wakes up at four with the phantom pains of hundreds of knives wracking his body

he can’t go back to sleep, so he heads to the gym and picks the lock to the basement

he’s so caught up in his own head that he walks right past the room full of punching bags and opens the door next to it

despite it being in the basement, the room has the same high ceilings as the upper floors, maybe twenty or twenty five feet

there’s no equipment that neil can see in the dark room, nothing except for the mats covering the floor and four vertical poles bolted to the floor and ceiling

he’s confused at first but then... oh

he’d obviously heard of pole dancing as a sport, he remembered seeing the words on the gym directory

but actually seeing the poles, he was kind of intrigued

but he backed out and went into the right room and ran himself down, and despite heaving on the floor, he felt like he could finally breathe

he was exhausted by the time the exy team started trickling into the main gym to do their workouts, but he honestly didn’t care about the stern talking-to kevin was attempting to administer

over the next week, inexplicably, neil’s mind kept going back to the room with the poles. he found himself watching pole dancing competition videos and tutorials and reading articles on different products that help to stay on the pole

on another one of Those Days, he finds himself purposefully breezing right past the boxing room and opening the door to the pole dancing room

he turns on the light, which is still dim, and walks nervously up to the pole in the far right corner

he’s bad at first. not as bad as he thought he’d be, but still bad. youtube isnt exactly the best coach

but he comes back the next day. and the next. and it eventually becomes a regular thing as he becomes better at it. sometimes, when his school workload isn’t heavy, he spends his free periods between classes practicing.

he never sees anyone else there, no matter what time, and he likes it that way. he gets more confident in himself, eventually ending up stripping down to just his briefs as he learns new moves

he doesn’t tell anyone about it. it’s not that he’s ashamed, but the idea of the ex-mafia kid exy player spending his free time pole dancing? it was a little embarrassing

like andrew knows in general where he is at those times but he doesn’t know/care what neil’s doing there. he guesses its just more things to do with exy

and kevin is suspicious but when is he not

but all in all no one finds out

until

one day it’s like three pm and he had the most annoying argument with the TA and he’s still pissed as he descends the stairs to the basement of the gym, just wanting to dance and blow off some steam

he bursts through the door and stops abruptly as the person whirls around

“dan?”

“neil?”

they both kind of just stand there for a moment before neil’s like “sorry, i was--uh, the boxing room is right next to this one and--”

“you were planning on boxing?”

“uh huh”

“in skinny jeans?” dan raised an unimpressed eyebrow

neil glanced down. he was wearing skinny jeans. “um.”

neil shifts nervously. “what are you doing here? nobody ever goes in here.”

“I was just--” dan pauses. “wait, this is where you’re going when you disappear?”

neil rubs the back of his neck. “kinda, yeah”

“kinda or definitely”

so neil tells her everything, about how he’s been going there for months and teaching himself how to dance and whatnot

dan is highkey impressed and asks him if he wants her to teach him anything

“what?”

“I used to be a stripper, neil.”

“oh. right.”

“no, you’re okay. it’s just... i kind of missed it. not the stripper part, but during the day, when the club was closed and my sisters were teaching me. it didn’t feel like it was for anyone. it was for me....it was liberating.”

neil nods. “i get that”

so dan ends up joining in on his practices more often than not

at first neil’s kinda uncomfortable being so physically exposed around someone that wasn’t andrew

but he finds a weird comfort with dan, both of them in just their undergarments swinging around on poles in a big empty room with music playing out of one of their phones

dan ends up teaching neil a bunch of moves she knows, like how to bend over upside-down and spin with just thighs

“and if you twist like this, it shows off your ass”

they also end up talking a lot, about random things, but dan also tells him a lot about her stage sisters and what her high school life was like and in turn neil ends up talking a bit about his life on the run

they also end up talking a lot about their relationships, like how dan learns that andrew likes to snuggle (dan is astounded) and neil learns that matt sleeps with his socks on (neil is apalled)

some of the foxes notice that dan has joined in with neil’s disappearances and she tells them that she’s teaching him “how to be a captain for you assholes. it’s hard fucking work, i’m giving him seminars about you little shits”

but one day matt comes up to neil during practice and he’s like “hey neil can i talk to you”

and neil’s like “you’re talking to me now”

“no i mean like later”

neil’s like ?? but he agrees

after practice everyone leaves the locker room except for matt

he nervously sits down on the bench so once neil’s done he hesitantly sits next to him

“what’s up?”

matt’s acting shifty and weird and isn’t look at neil’s face

“so um, i need you to be honest with me, okay? and i know you wouldn’t do this, but i’ve been having doubts and i just--” matt sighs. “is dan cheating on me with you?”

neil is... absolutely pissed

“what the fuck?!”

“i mean, like, you guys have been disappearing off on your own and then you come back sweaty and flushed--”

“we work out together”

“but she’s always smiling and content after!”

“i literally have a partner”

“that doesn’t stop a lot of people, neil”

“don’t you remember that i don’t swing? dan’s like my sister, matt” neil is surprised when he says it and finds that he’s being truthful. “dan loves you. she’d never hurt you like that. stop selling yourself short.”

matt nods and neil leaves

the next time dan and neil practice together, the next day, dan asks him about matt and neil tells her everything

“i think he’s just paranoid that you’re leaving at the end of the year” neil spins around and hooks his ankles around the pole

“yeah... i’ll talk to him” dan sighs and wraps an arm around the pole and hoists herself up a few inches

“if you’re fine with it, he can come to our next practice”

“you’re sure?” a few weeks ago, neil had told dan how insecure he was about his scars and they both enjoyed the privacy they had at the practice room

“yeah. it’s just matt”

they twirl around for a while, soft music playing from dan’s phone, the artist singing something about being sorry that she fell in love with someone while they were in a hotel room

“what about your boy?” dan asks

“what about him?”

“does he ever doubt you?”

neil shrugs, as well as he can while upside down “we trust each other”

dan thinks for a minute. “are you going to show andrew too?” dan motions to the room with her foot. “i’m fine with it if you are”

so later that day, back at the dorm, neil turns in his bean bag and asks andrew if he wants to come to his and dan’s next practice

andrew replies with a “not particularly”

“don’t you want to see what we do?”

“not really. you don’t ask me to watch renee and i spar.”

“yeah but that’s cause it your guys’ thing. also, dan and i definitely don’t spar”

“it’s still your thing.”

“i wouldn’t ask you to come if i didn’t want you to”

andrew looked at him before saying “you’re insufferable.” neil knew that meant he’d be there

so the next day finds dan and neil leading matt and andrew down their familiar basement path

andrew shows no reaction to the poles except for a quirk in his left eyebrow (neil knows he’s very surprised)

matt, on the other hand, says “this is what you guys have been doing?”

neil nods and takes his shirt and pants off, which leads to another shocked sound out of matt and another raised eyebrow from andrew. (that’s both raised eyebrows. neil’s never done that. he takes it as an achievement. andrew’s eyes tell him not to read too much into it. neil smirks)

andrew leans up against one of the untouched poles as neil talks to matt about liquid chalk as dan takes her own clothes off

matt sits down on the edge of a mat as they start practicing. after a few minutes neil almost forgets that there are two more people in the room than usual, the only giveaway being andrew’s sharp eyes never leaving him and matt’s amazed “ooh”s and “ahh”s

after the alarm on dan’s phone beeped to tell them that their hour and a half were up, matt stood up as the two stepped away from their poles

neil started pulling on his clothes as matt went “I--um--that’s--that was--”

neil picks up his bag and starts walking toward the door, knowing that andrew’s following

“don’t fuck near my pole” he calls, and he can hear dan laugh as he shuts the door

andrew is silent all the way to the dorm

later on the roof, he asks “why?”

neil sighs. “it makes my mind quiet. suspended like that, fifteen feet in the air, the only thing that’s keeping me from falling is me. it’s not like exy, where I have to rely on my teammates. It’s... it’s finding trust in my body.” he looks down at him scarred hands, at the one interlaced with andrew’s. “also my father would never pole dance. neither would my mom. god, she’d be so pissed.”

neil smiles

“what do you think about it?” neil asked as andrew took another drag on his cigarette

“it doesn’t matter what i think”

“it matters to me.”

“I hate you.”

“mmhm. don’t i know it.”

they were quiet as they watched the sun slowly dip over the horizon

“you’re more flexible than i thought”

“what’s that supposed to mean”

“it means i liked it. you are as confident at pole dancing as you are at playing exy.”

“are you telling me that you like when i play exy?”

“shut up. yes or no?” he flicks aside his cigarette at neil’s yes

a few days later, matt apologizes to neil for his assumptions. he ends up convincing neil and dan into entering a pole dancing competition that takes place a few weeks after the championship game

they end up winning third place

(the competition was recorded and put on youtube. neil’s proud. he catches andrew watching the video more than once)

(when kevin finds out about it he practically combusts and tells neil how bad it is for his exy career and what will pro teams think blah blah blah neil doesn’t care)

after dan graduates, neil and her keep up their practices through facetime

the next year they’re able to win first place

[regrettablewritings]

If there's still a slot left, I would like to request some for Cassian: who makes the other eat breaskfast, who brings up having kids, and who takes care on sick days please?

Sure, you got in just in time! (Though wow we do be lovin’ a domestic Cassian, huh?)

Takes care of the other on sick days: Cassian claims to not get sick. You don’t know how true this actually is, but you’re almost certain it’s bullshit and the only reason K2 hasn’t officially spilled the beans is because maybe Cassian did something to his wiring to assure he couldn’t. Admittedly, that last bit is probably an exaggeration, but the point still stands: There’s just no way that a human, mortal captain, surrounded by and constantly in close contact with other beings and also frequently traveling all over The Maker’s vast space, couldn’t get sick. Chances mostly were that, in his stubbornness, he refused proper bed rest whenever he got struck by a common cold and would push himself to perform. Maybe he feared that allowing himself rest would be perceived as a sign of weakness. Maybe he was afraid that by letting himself embrace such a sorry state, he’d be letting his team down. But heaven forbid you pull any of that shit. It’s hard to see Cassian Andor as the mother hen-type (especially when in comparison to Bodhi), but that didn’t mean that traces of it weren’t there. Sure, he wasn’t the obvious type to usher you off the training field or out of the X-Wing hangar from the first moment you sneezed -- he wants to trust your judgement; you know your body better than anyone would. But if any symptoms of any known-illness persists, he’ll keep an eye on you. And if you don’t go to the infirmary for it as time goes on, then don’t worry: He’ll make sure you do. You could be in the middle of training, stance weak and body sweating despite having barely done anything worth working up a sweat over, and he’ll stop you immediately before ordering you to go get yourself checked. Do not argue with him unless you are prepared to receive an icy stare from those dark eyes of his. He’ll argue that they can’t have you wandering around, putting others at risk (which, to be fair, isn’t an improper claim to make no matter how minute the sickness), but it’s honestly more to the point that he hates seeing you even the slightest bit unwell. Once his tasks are completed (heck, maybe he’ll even put them on hold), he wastes no time visiting you in the infirmary or your sleeping quarters depending on where it’s been decidedly best you’d be placed in. Even if the flu is contagious and the nurse droids insist he keep his distance, Cassian won’t hesitate to shoot them a look before taking a seat next to your resting form, affirming his own decision. He’s actually not a bad visitor to have: If you’re running a fever, he’ll assist the medics in dabbing you with a wet cloth; if you need medicine or a shot administered, he’ll easily get you to accept it or even distract you so that it can be carried out quicker; if food from the mess hall is permitted in your state, he brings you some and makes sure you eat it. And sometimes he just sticks around to make sure you’re breathing properly while you sleep. All in all, he may not necessarily be technically taking care of you, depending on how you use the phrase, but Cassian is most certainly making sure that you are on the fast-track to recovery every single time you fall ill. Your health is not something to be played with. Period.

Makes the other eat breakfast: As stated before, Cassian is more of a mother hen than he lets in on --   even though it’s pretty obvious after a point. He can claim that his   concern isn’t really concern and that he’s just performing his duty as a  captain by making sure your nerf-herding ass isn’t undernourished and thus making it a problem for everyone else. And it’s not the untruth, but it it isn’t the entire truth.   He is well aware that the rations provided aren’t exactly a delicacy on any planet. And he knows that you may find it a bit more difficult to eat first thing in the morning, when everything feels way too rich and heavy for your liking. But he’s also aware that you need to keep up whatever strength you have because it ties in with making sure you stay safe. And like hell you survive recon missions gone wrong, dog fights, and explosions only to somehow be taken out due to lack of vitamins. (Yes, that’s a bit of a jump to make but you get the idea!) He really tries not to make it come across as a stern parent demanding that their kid eat their veggies or what have you. But there are very few other vibes to give off when you’re telling your significant other in a firm voice that they need to finish eating their protein pudding “or else sparring today was going to make them see the other side.” You can pout all you want but in the long run, you do appreciate his attention to your well-being -- even if it comes at the cost of you forcing yourself to swallow a glob of what is supposed to be potassium-rich something-or-other just so you don’t cramp up running any time soon.

Brings up having kids: Personally, you’re honestly neither here nor there about actually having kids, but you’re the first to really try and talk about it. Frankly, the idea of having kids even in a post-war scenario is such a big step for you that it seems almost surreal even as a theory. But you suppose it couldn’t hurt to try and gauge Cassian’s feelings about. After all, communication is important for a healthy relationship, even when one half of said relationship isn’t exactly the most talkative or expressive person around. You don’t really expect Cassian to say much on the matter, which is pretty good because he actually doesn’t really know where he really stands on it when you first bring it up. All he knows is that inside, flurry of thoughts are bumping into one another in a seemingly endless storms of “if so”s and “then that”s and “what if”s. The main problem being that the mindset that accompanies nearly everything for him (that is, the one that was born from the fact that his entire life has revolved around war) has somewhat tainted even the most positive of his thoughts. For one, he didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they could get hurt. Specifically, one where war or differing extremes could so much as rip them out of his life. Cassian wasn’t one to play optimistic: He knew far too well that even if he lived to see the end of this war, there was no guarantee everyone would remain calm enough to keep the peace. So it would seem safe to say that he probably just didn’t want kids. At first. Ask him again a year and a half from then, and his answer’s evolved some. You can chalk it up to him allowing the tiniest sliver of hope inside of him instead of rage and duty: He truly began to wonder in optimism if you could truly win this war. Sure, some of those worries he had before would continue to ring true, but the possibility of living in a future where peace was possible began to feel more and more observable. And in those brief sparks of hope and optimism, he thought he could see flashes of a domestic life with you. He saw the home and the bed the two of you would share a lot clearer than any vision of children, mind you, but it was certainly stronger than what he’d had before. Interestingly, it wasn’t when you asked him a third or fourth time that Cassian could see children in those slips of a theoretical future. The war hadn’t even been won yet, though Mon insisted that it was surely near, judging by communications with the Princess of Alderaan. But there was just something so relaxing about the moment, what with you dozing off, head on his shoulder as the two of you decided to sleep under the stars for the evening. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had done this, mind you, so he really didn’t know what possessed his subconscious to deem this moment any different, let alone different enough to leave him deciding that yes, maybe he would like to start a family with you some day. The stars were the same, the constellations were there like always, he could hear the sounds of X-Wings and other such crafts taking off and landing as well as indistinct talking and beeping and all the other sorts of noises the two of you had grown accustomed to on base. Really, the only thing that might’ve made a difference was that darned feeling of hope he’d allowed to let flourish in him. Dumb optimism. A liking for the idea of getting to be with you in one of the ultimate expressions one can, of creating a manifestation of your love for each other together and raising them to be the good he only wished he could be, and to see them become their own beautiful and beloved person -- He almost wanted to laugh at himself. Or scold himself. Whatever he deserved for thinking so inexplicably gushily. Well, whatever the case, he wouldn’t tell you any of this. . . . Okay, maybe a little bit of it. But certainly not all of it. Maybe if you wanted to talk more about it. He would never admit that in his visions, your child would have your eyes and beautiful smile, though.

Thank you for asking and thank you for your patience!!!

[btsslowburnfic]

Born to be Yours Ch. 10

Story Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter summary: Life after you and RM part ways goes back to normal until an accident changes everything

Previous chapters found here: Chapter 9

You are surprised that life does in fact go back to normal. You and Xavier make up and get back to working with smaller local groups after the awards season ends. Things with you and Ben get back to normal; you become a master of using heavy foundation on your soulmark when you’re at home. The summer tour is amazing. You and Xavier traveled to 32 states in 4 months. You find yourself following Twitter and Weverse to see what RM is up to. And you sometimes found yourself thinking about that night the two of you spent together. You mostly try to push it out of your mind though. Even though you told Xavier and he randomly brings it up.

“Right here? On this desk!?!” he asks, running his hands over the surface.

“Yes. And don’t do that, it’s weird and gross.”

“How was it? Describe it to me again.”

You chuckle a bit and roll your eyes, “No. I told you once so I could get it out of my system.”

“Ughhh you’re so boring.” he whines playfully.

“Shouldn’t you be reprimanding me about being a terrible cheating slut?” you raise an eyebrow.

“No. I ship that shit.” he responds, sipping on a smoothie. “Have you eaten yet?” he asks

You laugh and look through your phone. “No, I had a zoom meeting with Gina at noon and then I covered spinning class.” You press some buttons on your screen. “There. I just ordered. I’ll see you in a while.” You stand up and put your flip flops back on.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in pilates tonight.”

You toss your bag over your shoulder and put your sunglasses on as you step out the door. You look both ways and start to cross the street as you hear a screeching sound. The next thing you hear and feel is the sickening crunch of bone hitting glass. Tires screeching away and then everything is black.

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

Namjoon occasionally finds himself thinking about you. Mostly when he accidentally slams his body into a door frame or cuts his finger. He always says he’s sorry and then kind of feels like an idiot for apologizing to no one. He also thinks about the night the two of you shared together quite often and had made Jhope send him those photos he took.

He’s happy to be working and on tour again. It’s been a fun summer. They wrapped up the Asia portion of their journey and were well into Europe now. As usual, the filming crew was in the green room as they were preparing for their second night at Wembley. The first night had been amazing. He couldn’t think of anything that made him happier than being in front of ARMY, especially when they were singing along to the songs he wrote. He smiled as he scrolled through his phone while he had his makeup touched up. 

“10 minutes, 10 minutes.” Management called out.

“Alright guys, let’s get it.” he yells through the green room.

They gather around and do their chant. The minute they step out of the green room they can hear the fans roaring and cheering along to the pre-show videos. They each go to their respective starting positions and wait to hear the signal. 

They open quick and fast with “On” and the crowd is absolutely pumped. They begin their second song and will then introduce themselves. The music for “Dionysus” begins to play and the elaborate set pieces are added throughout the song. They are almost to the end of Dionysus when RM goes down hard. He falls off the table. People are gasping, Jin runs over and signals to the staff on the side of the stage that something is very wrong. ARMY and BTS are freaking out. The visual director quickly puts a message onto the big screens to please wait a moment. The medical staff immediately takes the lift up to the main backstage area. The obvious damage is a cut on his arm that took the brunt of the fall from the table, but that gash can’t account for the fact that he’s unconscious and breathing shallowly. There is a rush of oxygen masks and people yelling. Jimin and JK start crying, the other guys are freaked out about the show and what to do next. Jin rises to the occasion by asking if they should go ahead and skip to his and Suga’s solos until there is more information. A decision is quickly made to begin the solo portions. The two of them quickly change costumes and prepare to go out. An ambulance ends up needing to be called. The guys decide that Namjoon would want the show to go on and so they do. It’s ugly and weird and they are unfocused but they manage through it. ARMY is crying for RM because they know it’s bad when he doesn’t come back on stage. They skip the ments and encore and  the guys are immediately loaded into vans and transported to the private health facility that he’s been taken to. 

The staff escorts the six of them to a room where they wait for a doctor to come and speak to them. A translator is located and brought in as well.

“What happened? Did anybody see what happened before he fell?” Hoseok asks.

“He was fine. I didn’t notice anything strange.” Tae responds. 

“They took video and showed the doctor,”Yoongi adds, having overheard the staff on the way there.

After a few minutes a doctor comes in. “Hello Gentleman. Your friend is in good hands here, and is stable.” she reassures them. 

There is a collective sigh from the group as they hear this news.

“However, we aren’t sure what’s causing this condition. There is no evidence of an aneurysm on the CT scan and the video doesn't show any seizure-like activity prior to the fall. His heart is in excellent shape as well as his lungs. At this point we are running more tests but we do need to ask you all some questions here. Please answer honestly. Does your friend use any drugs? Even maybe extra prescription medication?”

It takes a few seconds for the translator to relay the message and the guys’ reactions range from anger to disbelief. Jin is up on his feet shouting about how they should be focusing on fixing Namjoon rather than gossiping, Jimin is crying more. It’s a mess.

“Calm down guys, it’s a standard question,” Yoongi says stoically. “She’s not trying to be rude.”

“No. He drinks beer and wine sometimes. But no. He’s not on any drugs.  That’s ridiculous.” Jungkook summarizes.

“I’m sorry, it’s something I do have to ask. Is there anything else you guys could think of that might be pertinent? An old injury? Something he did earlier today or ate that he doesn’t usually?”

The guys all sat there for a minute. It was Jin who made the connection first: “His soulmate. She lives in LA.”

Tae’s hand flew to his phone to make a phone call.. The next few things happened over the course of a few hours: a phone call to Hitman Bang to get Gina’s contact information. Several phone calls to Gina. Calls from Gina to you. No answer. Phone calls to Xavier. No answer. Xavier calling Gina back hysterically sobbing that you were in a coma with a skull fracture and blood loss, Gina crying, Gina having someone else call Hitman Bang because she couldn’t stop sobbing, Hitman Bang calling Tae back.

The doctor was updated on the situation. “Ah...well that would explain it. Were the two of them very close?” she asks delicately.

It’s highly inappropriate but Yoongi just laughs, “No. They met one time .”

The doctor raised her eyebrows, “Oh. Well that’s unusual.”

“If she dies, will he die too?” Jimin asks quietly with tears in his eyes.

“No. And especially not if they weren’t close. I need to consult with some colleagues on this before we proceed. If you all want to go get some rest I think he’s going to be like this for a while. We can call you if anything changes.” the doctor informs them.

They are uneasy about leaving Namjoon there so they split up into groups of two to take turns. Jin and JK take the first shift at the care facility.

 ----------------

The doctor reaches out to several colleagues who are familiar with more case studies of soul mate injuries and what to do when there is a mirrored trauma response. She gets permission from RM’s parents (who have flown to London as well at this point) to try a reverse cryogenic procedure to restart his systems. Basically, they will bring his body down to an almost hypothermic point and slowly reheat him, encouraging cell regeneration and movement. It has been successful in similar cases, but it is a slow procedure that needs to be carefully monitored. 

Meanwhile, social media is having a field day about what could have happened. BigHit put out that story that RM has developed a severe allergic reaction to shellfish and went into anaphylaxis on the stage; he was administered an epi-pen and hospitalized but is now resting and recovering. The rest of the guys give interviews to back up this story as well. 48 hours after the incident began, RM is slowly regaining consciousness. 

“What happened? I feel like someone is opening up my skull with a pair of pliers.” he asks the doctor.

“I’m sorry but your soulmate was in a very bad car accident. She’s in a coma and you suffered a mirrored trauma response. I’m going to go let your friends and family know you’re awake.” 

“Shit.” RM says, really taking in everything that was just said to him. 

Jin is the first one in the room. “Hey. You’re finally awake. We were so worried.”

“How long have I been out for?”

“2 days.”

“Shit. What happened with the concert? Is everything ok? Oh God. What did they tell people?”

“One thing at a time.” Yoongi said as he entered the room. “We finished the show. The tour is postponed for at least a few weeks. We told people you had an allergic reaction.”

RM visibly relaxed but was still upset about the show. “Those fans have to be so disappointed.”

“Yeah, but they want you to be well. There’s thousands of flowers and cards being left at Wembley and so many messages on Weverse. We’ll make the dates up when you’re better. ARMY understands. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s [Y/N]’s fault.” he says briskly. 

“I mean. She got flattened by a car. So, not really.” Tae added.”She’s in an actual coma. They can;'t just reheat her.” he was surprised by how cold RM sounded talking about his soulmate.

“You’re right. I’m just...it’s a lot. My head still hurts and I guess I just want someone to blame.”

“Blame the asshole who hit her,” Yoongi adds.

“Yeah. I will. I’m so tired.”

“Here, we’ll leave so you can talk to your parents for a minute before you rest.”

“My parents flew in?” he says surprised.

“We thought you were going to die,” Jimin says seriously. “Your sister is on her way here too.”

Rm laid his head back against his pillow. This is exactly the kind of soulmate bullshit he’s been trying to avoid. And you were in a coma. He stopped for a minute and thought about how scary it must be for you but he won’t allow himself to dwell on it. He’s getting his soul mark obliterated as soon as you wake up from your coma and sign off on it. If you wake up from it. Shit. 

----

24 hours later he is discharged from the hospital and decides to book a flight to LA to see what your doctors are doing about rectifying this situation. He can’t shake the massive headache and leg pain that he’s still experiencing constantly. He cannot perform like this. Also he’s looked into the legal status of soulmark obliteration if one party is a permanently vegetative state and what counts as legal consent. Because of course he has. The guys all talk and decide that Tae will go along with him for support. Really it’s to be the voice of reason because they can’t believe that rather than going to see how you’re doing, he is going to ask you to remove your mark. 

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

RM knows what hospital you are at because his doctor consulted with yours in order to determine the best course of treatment. You doctor was hoping that once RM woke up, you would show signs of improvement. So far though, there wasn’t a lot on your end.

Ben and Xavier dutifully took shifts staying with you in the hospital. On this particular night, Ben is taking the night shift, walking back from the vending machines. He stops when he sees two dudes who look like models standing outside your door.

“Hey. Are you guys friends with [Y/N]? You must be from the studio. I don’t think we’ve met before. I'm Ben” Ben is tired but tries to be friendly.

Tae and Namjoon turn and look to him. Ben. Ben must be her boyfriend. 

“Actually we’re from one of the bands she worked with. I’m Namjoon and this is Taehyung. You must be her boyfriend?”

“Fiance actually,” Ben politely corrects. “Just a few weeks ago actually,” he awkwardly laughs. “But then this all happened. You know the asshole didn’t even stop?” 

Tae feels extremely awkward. He can understand a small bit of what’s going on, but he knows that what’s coming will be very difficult for everyone.

“That’s awful. How is she doing?”

“Bad. Stable. But, bad. She lost a lot of blood and hit her head pretty hard. They’re surprised she didn’t have any broken bones other than her skull fracture. She dislocated her shoulder when it hit the hood. The guy was definitely speeding.” Ben runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry if you were hoping to visit.”

RM awkwardly runs his hands up and down his jeans. There is not an easy way to say this.

“So. You know that [Y/N] has a soulmark on her wrist?”

Ben stiffens ever so slightly, “I do. But it’s ok. We don’t really care about that whole destiny thing. It’s unconventional but you know…” he trails off.

RM takes a deep breath and rolls up his sleeve. “I have the matching soulmark. I was in a coma for 2 days. I need to speak to her doctor immediately.” NEXT CHAPTER

[vagrantblvrd]

Super self-indulgent FAHC AU wherein for whatever reason Geoff doesn’t come to Los Santos to start the FAKE AH Crew until ~later.

Meanwhile, everyone ends up in Los Santos anyway - because reasons - and have to scrape by without the support of the crew behind them?

Like, hacker/thief/??? Gavin ends up in Los Santos via a series of unfortunate events in which he is a total shit and sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong?

Cue his ~fleeing to the US and meandering his way along - getting in trouble along the way, because of course he does, but also amassing a rather impressive list of contacts and such as well - to Los Santos.

Where, lol, of course he gets in over his head yet again? Young and stupid and tries to get one past the wrong guy and before he knows it he’s got himself an arrangement, right?

Work for the guy he tried to fuck over or be horrifically murderized, and oh, hey? The family and friends he left back in England? Sure would be a shame if something happened to them, you know? They seem lovely.

(Why would you just look at the pictures and videos this guy has of them doing all sorts of everyday things and accidents happen, you know. Awful, that.)

Anyway, anyway, Gavin keeps his head down and plays good little hacker/thief/???.

Gives his new boss what he asks for out of him and no more, doesn’t volunteer information or skills or anything he may have himself or know someone who knows someone who might be useful.

No.

Gavin does what’s asked of him and lets his boss’ goons and thugs push him around - little weasel, a coward and so on?

But also Gavin is making a list (or two or three) that has all kinds of interesting information to be had in them? Things his boss’ enemies or other such interested parties could use to utterly ruin the bastard.

Gavin’s got plans, you see, it’s just a matter of time and all that.

Until then he’s meek and mild and does his part whether it be hacking or off to steal some shiny little bit of interest to his boss or whatever else his boss knows he’s capable of. (Nasty stuff, when you get down to it, strange how his boss never wonders how Gavin knows how to do any of this stuff or rest easy thinking they won’t be used on him, but arrogance will do that to people, I guess?)

ANYWAY.

Things are going along...well enough when Gavin’s boss brings in a new hacker.

This kid (not really a kid, if anything a couple of years younger than Gavin at most, but he seems young) who buckles down and plays nice without the rough treatment Gavin and the handful of other hackers and “specialists” like him that have been through the base where Gavin works most of the time.

Gavin would let things run their course for this “Matt Bragg” but he’s not like the others Gavin’s been forced to work with?

They were always the same kid of wrong as his boss and his boss’ favorite goons and thugs. Mean and cruel for the sake of it and didn’t worry who they were hurting so long as they made a profit off it.

But Matt Bragg, okay.

Quiet kid, keeps to himself and gets this pinched look on his face when their boss decides whatever information he handed over to him was to be used in the most “efficient” way possible.

Matt gives their boss two different routes to obtain whatever shiny he’s after, one with minimal casualties on all sides but it’ll take a little longer. The other requires guards and security to be killed, but it shaves a hefty chunk of time off the entire operation, and no bet which one their boss chooses.

And, look.

The fact that Matt took the time to come up with two different approaches like that - contingency plans, yeah, sure, that’s a given - but Matt went out of his way to devise a tactic to avoid having to kill people.

Other things like that crop up from time to time, and Matt gets into trouble for it sometimes, taking too long to get the boss the information he wants because he’s concerned about having to kill some hired guns in a batch of mercs or rent a cops or whatever.

But he keeps on looking for those alternatives, and Gavin takes an interest.

Realizes Matt’s in the same boat as him with regards to working for their boss. Details might not be exactly the same, but whatever they are he ended up here same as Gavin, and that’s.

Interesting?

interesting.

Enough for Gavin to take that interest in Matt, sabotage him here and there so the boss gets pissed, yeah, punishes Matt by restricting his “privileges” and so on?

But there’s a good reason for that.

Because Matt’s good at what he does, too good, and there have been others like him through here before.

Got chewed up and spat out and left to fend for themselves when the cops (or worse) came looking.

Got set up, put on a job and left high and dry in the middle of it while the boss and his flunkies got away with the shiny they were after and a pretty little scapegoat/sacrifice left behind.

It’s where Matt’s headed if he’s not careful, and he isn’t.

Careful, that is.

Goes along with what the boss wants, but he’s the stubborn kind of idiot, you know?

Mouths off when he shouldn’t, and it gets him knocked around a bit. Gets him noticed by their boss’ goons and thugs when it’s the last thing people like them need or want.

Matt’s not stupid, realizes what’s going on and goes to confront Gavin about it, grabs his arm and freezes when Gavin lets out this little hiss f pain, pulls his arm back when Matt’s left staring at him.

Because in all the commotion Gavin’s sleeve got pulled up and there are these marks, bruises and worse and faded scars and -

“What - “

Gavin scowls at Matt, because rude, and also, idiot.

“Leave it alone, Matt Bragg,” he says, meaning Gavin deliberately fucking Matt over and everything else, because you know, because.

Those jobs and tasks and whatnot of Matt’s that Gavin sabotages him on?

Have to get done by someone, and Gavin’s reliable about things like that, isn’t he. (Has to be with everything he’s got on the line and all.)

So Gavin does the jobs/whatever Matt was supposed to and since Gavin has certain skills and the whatnot Matt doesn’t he ends up in the field when Matt would have remained at the base.

Gets hands on experience with whatever conundrum was posed to Matt, and sometimes that means he gets hurt because like hell will his boss offer him helpful support and such, you know?

It’s Gavin thieving about in hostile territory and with the odds stacked against him and shit always goes wrong.

And if it’s not the job/whatever where Gavin gets hurt you can bet their boss’ goons and thugs have something to say about things. (Gavin’s got a mouth on him even now, and makes enemies like you wouldn’t believe without trying.)

So anyway, anyway, Matt is like !!! and oh, you fucking moron, and drags Gavin off to get propery patched up.

Cue Friendship montage in which they realize they’re more or less working towards the same goals - Gavin wants the fuck out of this arrangement he was forced into and would rather do that than burn things to the ground while he’s still inside.

But Matt?

Lol, fucker would cheerfully burn the place down around him and figure his way out from there.

So.

Montage sequence in which they team up and utterly wreck their boss and his operation.

And, you know, because hackers end up filthy rich afterwards.

Fuck around for a while because Freedom and Choice and :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD but then they get word their boss had enemies who are looking to take over his territory and such and Gavin and Matt are like “...wait.”

Between them they have the resources and connections to set themselves for life in Los Santos, so they do?

Start setting up their own little criminal empires in the remains of their former boss’, and they start by bringing in assholes like this Rimmy Tim guy Matt met out at a bar one night?

Recently liberated from their boss and getting a drink to celebrate while Gavin was making sure things were good back in England and his boss’ allies/whoever couldn’t touch them and Matt’s more than a little tipsy, you know?

Mouths off to the wrong guy and almost gets the shit beat out of him but this weirdo in purple and orange (”I remember yellow, too?”) comes along and plays white knight for Matt.

At which point Matt has to buy him a drink as a thank you and the two of then end up getting shit-faced drunk.

Also you know.

Smooches are exchanged because oh, hey, he’s cute/hot/I like his face a lot before the alcohol kicks in and they end up snuggled together on a bed and passing the fuck out.

Not important whose bed, so much as the !!! the morning afterward realizing they went home with some weirdo and...smooched? Before snuggling and passing out???

And then awkward dating, because of course, and hey, since we’re building a criminal empire I totally know a guy, Matt says to Gavin, and then has to add, “It’s uh. We’re dating? But he’s exactly what we’re looking for for the whole...criminal empire thing???”

Gavin would be highly critical of Matt and his everything if it weren’t for the fact a bounty hunter he tangled with a ways back finally tracked him down?

Michael is super not thrilled with him, because of course?

This whole Thing where Michael got sent after this asshole hacker/thief/whatever in Gavin and they ended up being all 80s movies romcom/action flick flirting while avoiding the legit hitmen sent after Gavin?

Saving one another’s lives - at one point administering mouth-to-mouth - and getting matching flesh wounds in a shootout followed by a teensy amount of torture by some baddie?

And then!

Michael rethinking turning Gavin in only for Gavin to make that decision moot when Gavin knocked him out and chained him to a motel radiator before fleeing to parts unknown?

Only not so unknown as Michael finally found him.

There’s a cat and mouse game that ends up with both of then soaking wet - caught out in a rainstorm/went for a swim in a river/body of water - and Michael scowling at Gavin like he’s about to beat the shit out of him?

Only he kind of does...not that, what with the Angry Kissing that’s happening and Gavin’s !!! that turns to :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD and Michael’s >:((((((((((((((((((((((((((( that turns to >:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( becuase Gavin is a piece of shit and Michael hates him so fucking much, stop laughing you little shit!!1! >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Anyway.

Gavin and Matt have Jeremy and Michael, and then the rest trickle in?

Like.

Gavin worked with a gang a while back that hired this sniper - odd sort, but damn good with a sniper rifle and the kind you can trust to keep their mouth shut.

Ray’s not in it for the long-haul, not looking for a crew, but he’s always up to do a favor for friends and such.

And then Michael meets Lindsay through -

“Don’t fucking ask, seriously.”

And then!

Some friend of Jeremy’s in Trevor - this !!! You!!1! - moment between Gavin and Trevor because Thieves!!1! who may or may not have run into one another in the field and ensuing shenanigans as they were after the same shiny and oh, what a fun night that was, eh?

Alfredo just.

Suddenly fucking there???

Seems to know Michael who is like, “Oh, this fucker,” and no one can tell if he likes Alfredo at first? But then it comes out Alfredo used to be a bounty hunter too before he decided it was more fun being a “bad guy”

(Extenuating circumstances in which he was hired by some people to bring in some poor bastard who was innocent of whatever crime they said he committed because reasons? Alfredo finding out and then shenanigans in which he saved the poor guy’s life and set them up with a new life somewhere and ended up being framed for crimes he didn’t commit and all that. And since he was being framed for crimes he didn’t commit, why the hell not go out and commit actual crimes?

But.

Like.

Fun crimes.)

And then!!1!

Just as things are going smoothly, Gavin and Matt’s old boss manages to hire some assholes to kill Gavin? Matt would be great, sure, but the focus is on making Gavin super fucking dead, and everyone is freaking out, right, because for whatever reason they all like the little shit?

General sort of panic/mayhem until one of the assholes hired to kill Gavin actually gets their hands on him?

Catches him alone somewhere and while everyone is panicking trying to find Gavin, Gavin himself is :DDDDDDDDDDDD because the asshole who caught him is the fucking Vagabond.

When everyone gets to where they are Gavin’s like ??? at all the fear/panic he’s seeing and is like. “Guys, it’s my ex!”

Because this whole thing way, way before Michael and such where Gavin met Ryan and somehow wasn’t murdered?

Managed to make friends with the bastard that turned into something more and it was good, really, really good, until it wasn’t.

Someone from Ryan’s past gunning for him and Ryan ran Gavin off - “Bastard shot me!” but Gavin’s not mad, not anymore.

And it wasn’t like Ryan ran him off so much as dumped him at the ER and left Gavin to deal with the gunshot wound and explaining how he came by it to the authorities and then trying to find the bastard again afterward.

Which...he didn’t, but after months looking for him his contacts told him the Vagabond had set up shop in a city somewhere and seemed to be doing well for himself?

And Gavin was like :(((((((((((( because oh, well then, thinking maybe Ryan was better off without him weighing him down and such?

(Because hey, Vagabond and some hacker/thief/whatver in Gavin and honestly, no doubt who the more capable/dangerous one of them was.)

Thinking if Ryan wanted to, he could have come back for Gavin, or at least looked for him, but he hadn’t,so.

Gavin left him to it, kept on his way towards eventually arriving in Los Santos and everything that happened since - including Michael, oh shit - and then, uh.

Super awkward inching towards Mavinwood with Gavin and his feelings for Michael and Ryan and Michael and Ryan with their feelings for Gavin? But also bonding over the fact they have feelings for Gavin, because the guy’s a little shit, you know?

Complete asshole, and oh my God, do you want to hear about this one thing he did once?”

And so on, and also other reasons such as oh no, he’s hot and oh no, he’s an unbearable dumbass, why do I always fall for them?

Fiona comes along because Gavin’s old friends in England get curious about what’s going on with him and there’s a misunderstanding and she kid of, sort of, tries to kill him?

Like.

A lot.

Worse than that time every asshole in the city (and beyond) were after the price on Gavin’s head and persistent as hell and “Wait, Dan told you to what?”

And Fiona’s like “He said, and aI quote, ‘Take care of the wanker, for me, would you, Fiona? I’ll owe you,” and other such things and Gavin almost dies from laughing so hard while Fiona’s like “What? What are you laughing at, you asshole?”

More shenanigans and such and by the time Geoff and Jack do get to Los Santos they’ve heard about this weird as fuck crew  - dangerous, rumors say they took out the biggest name in Los Santos’ history to get where they are - and are greeted with Gavin and Matt and all the other assholes, what even??

[qrovidcore]

hey what’s up tumblr i’ve now seen hbo’s watchmen all the way through Three Fucking Times and i very well may go for a fourth if given an excuse whoops and apparently i can’t stop thinking about Laurie’s joke in She Was Killed By Space Junk, no i’m not the first person to analyze this and i’m sure i won’t be the last but i sure do have some Thoughts^TM,  so here’s some meta let’s go.

major spoilers ahead for the entire series:

Hey, it’s me again. I’ve got a joke. Stop me if you’ve heard this one. There’s this guy, he’s a bricklayer. He’s really good at it. He’s a real master of his craft. Because he’s precise. Every brick has its place. Anyway this guy has a daughter and he’s gonna teach her to be a bricklayer because after all, all a man has is his legacy. So dad decides to build a barbecue in the backyard. He does the math. He figures out exactly what he needs and he shows the daughter how to do everything. Step by step. And when he finishes, it’s a beauty. It’s a perfect barbecue. Just the way he drew it in blueprints. Only one problem. There’s a brick left over. One single brick. The guy freaks out. He must have done something wrong. He’s gonna have to start all over again. So he picks up his sledgehammer to knock the thing to pieces and his daughter suddenly says ‘daddy wait! I have an idea.’ She picks up the orphan brick and throws it up into the air as high as she can. And then…shit. Messed it up.

Okay forget that joke. Can I tell you another one?

As I said, I’m not the first to break down that Laurie is referring to specific people who have an influence on the story, there’s plenty of meta posts online that’ll say the same thing. I just think this is a Really Clever way to introduce us to her, to the major players in this story, and to the events from the comic that are going to end up being referenced. Anyhow, the bricklayer here is The Comedian. Laurie’s father. I’ll get back to this and how it connects later, but given that one of Watchmen’s major themes is the concept of legacy - who carries it and how, and what happens when that legacy is painful - this is a neat little hook into that idea. Laurie’s dad’s legacy. What she’s done with it, what she’s going to do with it, how she feels about it. Again, coming back to that.

Okay. Forget the brick. New joke. Three heroes die and they all show up at the pearly gates. God’s there and he’s going to decide what their eternal fate shall be: heaven or hell. Our first hero is dressed up like a big owl. God says to him “I gifted you the ability to make fantastic inventions. What did you do with this amazing talent?” Owl guy says “I made this really awesome flying ship and lots of cool outfits and weapons so I could bring peace to the city.” God asks, “So how many people did you kill?” Owl guy seems offended. He says “Zero. I didn’t take a single life.” God frowns. “Sorry owl guy, your heart’s in the right place but you’re just too soft.” God snaps his fingers and the hero goes to hell.

I'm not super into the comic so it took me a while to get that she's referencing Nite Owl. I think this is strange since he doesn't appear in the show himself, whereas everyone else she talks about does, but I suppose it gives a more rounded-out view of the different approaches to heroism, and what exactly constitutes it, and also ties in another one of the original Minutemen. They did cut this over her arrest of Mr. Shadow in the bank, which makes me wonder about his role and why he appeared, and I still find it strange that this part of the joke wasn't about someone who had more of a presence in the show. (Though that being said, DC making fun of Batman, their own big-ticket character? 10/10 thank you for this).

Where was I? The pearly gates await our next hero in line for Almighty judgment. Our hero number two is confident he can game this out because that’s his God-given talent: smarts. Some might even say he’s the smartest man in the world. “So what did you do with that big brain I gave you?” asks God. “As a matter of fact, I saved humanity, ”says Smarty Pants. “Well how’d you do that,” asks God.” “Well I dropped a giant alien squid on New York and everybody was so afraid of it they stopped being afraid of each other.” “OK,” says God. “How many people did you kill?” Smarty Pants smiles. “Three million, give or take. But you can’t make an omelet without breaking a couple of eggs. “Christ,” God says. “You’re a fucking monster.”  “Am not,” says Smarty Pants. God snaps his fingers and our hero goes to hell.

GOD YES PLEASE DRAG OZYMANDIAS. GET THIS FUCKER’S ASS. Though the line that’s sticking out to me here is “You can’t make an omelet without breaking a couple of eggs.” Watchmen’s got an egg motif - and that’s an entire post on its own - and wow this is a place to drop it. I find it interesting that it’s given to Adrien here. Especially since it comes back later, when Will tells Angela that that’s what Jon said in justification of giving his life to stop the 7th K/Cyclops and Trieu. Eggs are used for a lot of things, but this line ties the motif solidly to a value of life here - how Adrien is the way he is because he refuses to value other peoples’, and maybe how Jon is the way he is because, when you can see the future laid out before you and live knowing how you’re going to die, how do you learn to value your own?

Okay. We’re down to the nitty gritty now. One hero left. God cracks his knuckles ready to administer the final reckoning. Now Hero Number 3 is pretty much a god himself. So for the sake of telling them apart, he’s blue and he likes to stroll around with his dick hanging out. He can teleport, he can see into the future, he blows shit up. He’s got actual superpowers. Regular God asks Blue God what have you done with these gifts?” Blue God says “I fell in love with a woman, I walked across the sun, and then I fell in love with another woman. I won the Vietnam War. But mostly I just stopped giving a shit about humanity.” God sighs. “Do I even need to ask how many people you’ve killed?” Blue guy shrugs. “A live body and a dead body have the same number of particles so it doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter how I answer your question because I know you’re sending me to hell.” “How do you know that?” asks God. Blue God sounds very sad when he softly says “Because I’m already there.” And so, a mere piston in the inevitable of time and space God does what he did and will do. He snaps his fingers and the hero goes to hell.

And now, we’ve got Jon. Dr. Manhattan. It's a neat moment of insight into his actions, motives, and how those are perceived by others (namely Laurie), and it's a nice thread of introduction to his previous actions to drop for audiences who haven't read the comics (actually, I can make this point about Adrien’s part of the joke too). Especially because most of what we get of Jon in-show is his relationship with Angela, his entire character arc really revolves around her and we don't see him portrayed as the contentious, unfeeling figure the world sees him as. So this sort of contrast between him as a figure and him as a person is very telling, doubly so coming from someone who it's clear knew him. And I really appreciate that there’s just as much stiffness as there is warmth to the Jon we the audience see - he’s kind, he’s loving, but he’s also very matter-of-fact and deterministic, and that bit of characterization really spans the gap between these two versions of him.

And so it’s been a long day at the pearly gates. All the heroes have gone to hell. His work done, God’s packing up to go home and then he notices someone waiting. But it’s not a hero, it’s just a woman. “Where did you come from?” asks God. “Oh I was just standing behind those other guys the whole time, you just didn’t see me.” “Did I give you a talent,” God asks. “No, none to speak of,” says the woman.  God gives her a good long look. “I’m so sorry. I’m embarrassed. Seriously, this almost never happens but I don’t know who you are.” And the woman looks at God and she quietly says “I’m the little girl who threw the brick in the air.” And a sound from above, something falling: the brick. God looks up but it’s too late. He never saw it coming. It hits him so hard, his brains shoot out his nose. Game over. He’s dead. And where does God go when he dies? He goes to hell. 

Into some Thoughts^TM that I haven’t seen anyone theorize yet(?): I think God is meant to be Lady Trieu, and even if Laurie wouldn’t know this yet that’s some brilliant fucking foreshadowing. It's not as exact, but enough parallels are there that I think they're purposeful. It makes Trieu out as the ultimate judge of everyone - and in a way, she is. She sees herself as the most deserving of power of everyone, and it's her who kills Dr. Manhattan - sends him to hell, you could say, and he knows she's going to do it. It also hints at how she's going to die too, crushed by her machine falling from the sky like the brick, because she didn't expect anyone would be capable of stopping her. And where does God go when he dies? He goes to hell. Trieu isn't ultimately above the others, and she's subject to their justice as they are to hers. 

Fitting too that Laurie is involved with the plan to stop Trieu, since, as I said I’d come back to, the girl who threw the brick is Laurie herself. Her depiction of herself in this way is representative, perhaps, of Laure's own feelings on vigilantism and what justice is, and that she's the force that's going to bring down these overblown personalities and their many incorrect uses of their abilities. Given this, it's interesting to think how the "failed" joke at the beginning connects, given that Laurie's dad is the bricklayer, and he's definitely... not a good person, or at least not in this continuity. But I wonder if it's indicative of what Laurie mentions about her parents training her up to do vigilante stuff (especially since she’s based in part(?) on a member of the Minutemen from the comic), and how she feels about her father and his work. If the brick is symbolic of his work as a vigilante, is Laurie throwing the brick in the air, and ultimately taking down the threat at the top, meant to indicate how she sees herself using what she learned from him, or - maybe and - a disrespect for his work based on her justified hatred of him?

Roll on snare drum. Curtains. Good joke. 

[koteosa]

I'm sorry to hear you're having a bad brain day. Those are the worst. If it helps at all, do you have any HCs about how the Arcana LIs celebrate their birthdays once they're with your apprentices?

thank you my brain was beating me up bad today U___U  spending time writing gets me really focused and helps a lot. here’s some headcanons for all my LI/Apprentice ships

Kamui x Asra

Kamui really wants to spoil the everloving fuck out of his lover(s). He doesn’t want to completely control their entire day (unless they want him to) though the urge is definitely there to plan something very elaborate. He has a lot of love in his heart and it makes him feel like he’s gotta do something Big to properly express how he feels

Gives Asra a lot of options for things they could do together and lets Asra decide, based on however he feels at the time. They could go to a spa and relax. Go on a picnic in the woods. Do something mischievous and potentially illegal. Or just stay in bed all day talking, eating food Kamui prepares for them with the Highest Quality Ingredients and care put into them, and get a little, a little, a little hands on

He wants to take care of Asra the entire day like he’s royalty. His birthday is such an excuse to get to do these sorts of things and Kamui is going to take full advantage. Brush his hair and they’ll take a bath together where Kamui washes him and does his makeup and nails and they dress up cozy and spend all day together. Kamui worries about pressuring Asra into something when he might have other plans but Asra’s plans begin and end with Kamui being there so. Kinda hard for him to be dissatisfied

Asra is the type to respond to “what do you want for your birthday” with “you”

Though Kamui doesn’t need to ask because he already knows exactly what he’s getting Asra and it probably involves something pretty Asra can wear, some good food, maybe something practical for his magic or something for Faust since it’s also her birthday too and it’s important that she doesn’t get left out. This is to say there won’t be just one gift there’s gonna be a lot of them and he’s a little embarrassed by how many things he ended up with and he’s going to blush when he presents them

But Asra does the same exact shit when it’s Kamui’s birthday. They’re both romantic idiots who are the type to be like “I saw this and thought of you and so I bought it for you” for lots and lots of things

Kamui’s not good at making things outside of like, food. So most of his gifts were bought, but for Kamui’s birthday Asra spends time making a lot of different things with every creative skill he has. Knitting him red scarves and making him little woodwork statues of cats etc.

Kamui x Julian

Something tells me Julian doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday and never drops hints about it but Kamui will find out and be like Listen You Fuck I Will Celebrate The Ever Loving Shit Out Of You. You Cannot Stop Me

Wakes him up in the morning very sweetly and makes him breakfast. He has plans because he knows Julian was just going to work all day and maybe go to the Raven that night as a treat and that is Not Acceptable

Julian probably cries at some point just a little bit because Kamui dresses up very nice and then does Julian’s makeup and hair and takes him on a walk before they sneak into that one abandoned garden from Julian’s Lovers chapter and have a picnic and Kamui pushes him down and kisses him and tells him how beautiful he is and then just starts reciting some poetry he wrote about Julian and There Are Limits He Cannot TAKE This!!! Somehow Kamui found a beautiful metaphor to describe Julian’s eyes and it’s illegal. How dare he

Lots of laughing and running around getting into trouble and Kamui tugs him into an alley every now and then to kiss him and get him all riled up

Kamui goes out of his way to be gentlemanly before Julian can do it first and Julian’s blushing like how do I cope--

Gifts include a book of poetry Kamui wrote about Julian and general gay yearning (and he’s extremely embarrassed about it because he’s not so sure any of it is any good but Julian Loves It. It’s A Masterpiece), a bunch of other books he thought Julian would like to drown out the embarrassing love poetry, some cool knives, expensive wine, magic charms he made himself (lots of stuff to protect against nightmares), and like. the sexy stuff. A ruby-adorned choker and black lingerie. Hello Julian your boyfriend has money

After getting into trouble all day, Kamui takes him stargazing and then they go to the shop where Kamui set up candles and rose petals and whatnot so they could take a fancy bubble bath and drink wine before they spend all night in bed together if you know what I

Kamui x Muriel

Had to pry his birth date out of Asra because Muriel won’t acknowledge his own birthday. He does not deserve to be celebrated. Kamui begs to differ

Muriel just knows Kamui’s birthday by default because Asra would talk about it in the past so he doesn’t have to ask. After they start dating, once November 14th rolls around he’s got a bunch of gifts prepared. Very simple, like, some stuff he carved, a nice meal, a wildflower bouquet, maybe some sort of lotion or perfume he made with Asra’s help. And Kamui cries about it because it’s just so sweet and heartfelt and AHHHH-

Kamui knows Muriel doesn’t like all the fancy stuff he does, but he still wants Muriel to feel really special. It’ll take some convincing but he’d like to take Muriel to a nice spa where he assures him it’s very quiet and they won’t be bothered. A hot spring, mud bath, that sort of thing.

They can go on a walk through the woods and forage for stuff to make a meal with, then they cook together and Kamui tries to hand feed him but Muriel is so embarrassed it doesn’t go very far. Still Kamui will sit in his lap afterwards and they’ll just bask in the peace of nature for awhile. Maybe Kamui will talk a little, quietly, and about nothing of consequence so Muriel doesn’t even need to listen to the words, he’s just lulled by the sound of his voice

Gifts! A lot of stuff for Inanna and the chickens to take the pressure off of Muriel having to receive a lot of things directly (though they all make him happy just the same). For Muriel directly, Kamui gets him stuff to make his life more comfortable; a soft teal blanket, pretty silk ties for his hair, homemade lotions/salves to make his scars hurt a bit less. Charms for protection and restful sleep.

Lots of kissing and praise throughout the day. More than usual, that is. Muriel NEEDS to know he is loved and appreciated and Kamui is very glad that he was born.

Very low energy, Kamui wants to do things to help him relax, turn his brain off, feel loose, good, loved. A very slow day without too much in it.

Sae x Nadia

“What’s that? It’s your day of birth and you have WORK scheduled? Don’t think so. I told everyone to go fuck themselves and had the chef bring us breakfast in bed. Once you’re finished I will braid your hair and use this oil I made to administer a full body massage. My very genius plan. Praise me”

They dress very comfortably because if anyone has a fucking PROBLEM then Sae will flay them alive from the inside out and Nadia considers that a wee bit of a turn-on. It’s cozy day bay bee. They drink tea out on the veranda with no shoes on (!!) and spend the entire day indulging

Sae puts on a magic show for Nadia (and no one else) at night that’s very mesmerizing and beautiful. Nadia responds by pulling Sae into her lap and kissing her dizzy and then Sae’s like “S-So did you like it then--”

Sae doesn’t exactly have plans so much as she hisses like a feral cat at anyone who tries to make Nadia do Work thus allowing Nadia to do whatever she wants, and Sae is at her disposal

Not much in the way of gifts because Sae doesn’t see the point in providing material possessions so much as providing An Experience

Sae doesn’t really Get birthdays because hers were never celebrated so it’s a learning experience for her. All she thinks is that this seems like the right time to spoil Nadia, and that’s, like, enough, right?

Whispers in Nadia’s ear that she’s wearing lingerie under her outfit but then won’t let Nadia unwrap that present until later. Probably won’t wait very long though they’ll be very busy all day if you know what I

Sae x Portia

Sae doesn’t have to do much but provide her presence. Portia knows what she wants to do, although she’d be delighted to let Sae plan a day for them once in awhile. There’s a lot of things Portia’s thought about doing but no time to do them, and her birthday is the perfect time for that. Nadia would let her take time off easy.

In this instance, Sae would arrive with like a bag of handmade chocolates or a decorated mason jar with some jam or something in it and present it to her arms out turned away blushing furiously and Portia can’t stop giggling at how cute she is. She kisses her and holds the gift lovingly against her chest, they’ll share it on the picnic they’re about to go on together!

Cozy clothes they aren’t afraid to get dirty in, laid out on a gingham blanket and talking, holding hands, feeding each other, kissing. Spoiling Pepi who comes over to hang out.

They go into the palace for hijinks. Sae follows along not knowing where they’re going or who they’re talking to or what they’re doing but Portia is so fun and she knows it’ll be good. Sae teaches her some magic along the way to make everything even more exciting, they can play some pranks where Sae teaches her a spell and Portia uses it for shenanigans

Sae can pay for them to go out into the town and eat at a nice bakery, and then she holds Portia’s hand and leads her to some stray cats she found recently. After that she can show Portia some magic stuff in the woods or maybe they can plan to travel somewhere adventurous where Sae can watch Portia swing around a huge sword maybe. They try out a bunch of fun stuff fit for a magician, stuff Sae’s pretty used to but it makes Portia’s face light up with wonder and Sae just stares at her. Heart eyes

[pendragonfics]

Bird Brain

Paring: Clint Barton/Reader

Tags: female reader, doctor reader, domestic avengers, avengers tower, age difference -- older man/younger woman, domestic fluff, humor, deaf Clint Barton, Clint Barton needs a hug, fluff

Summary: She's a doctor and patches up the Hawkeye almost every day. He's an Avenger, and somehow, hasn't realised that she's been into him for ages.

Word Count: 2386

Current Date: 2020-02-15

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but whoever said that never had to deal with Clint Barton every forty-eight hours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the man - what wasn’t there to like? No, it was the fact that the man was constantly getting hurt. Shooting himself in the foot (literally). Falling over, losing his hearing aid, being stabbed by bad guys, needing an emergency tetanus shot when he got cut by a rusted nail and was very due for his shots.

It didn’t hurt that he was quite a looker, under all the bandages. Nice smile, kind eyes, and when he was actually taking care of himself and eating right, he had a rockin’ bod. If anyone caught you favouring him to the other Avengers who came by your station in the Tower, you’d say it was purely professional (when in actual fact, if he’d ever ask, you’d say yes to drinks in an instant).

The hardest part, though, was that every one of the team knew that you liked Clinton F. Barton, except him.

Bucky and Sam had a bet going on between the team of how long it was going to take Clint; so far, the stakes were high, and almost everyone was in on it. It had gone on for years, and only once had Clint almost walked in on a group of them talking about it, but he brushed it off. It seemed that you had chosen one of the densest Avenger as your heartthrob. Early on, Tony Stark had given you shit for being so young (to which Thor smacked him on the underside of his head for). Then, when he got over the age-gap, it was all, if you’re into older men why are you all heart-eyed over the Hawkeye when I’m literally here? Gradually over time, he let it go and moved on to other fish to fry.

After losing his hearing aid again on a mission, Clint is seated before you, looking at his hands. You can’t imagine the pressure he would be under as a man without powers in the Avengers and living with a disability, but he’s never spoken about it. You look up from where you’re running diagnostics, hoping that Tony’s bottomless credit card can purchase some tech for Clint that won’t fall out (his words) next time.

Once you have his attention, you sign, ‘You can tell me if you lost them on purpose.’

There’s a pause, and his face cracks that custom-made Clint Barton grin. He’s running on full-strength coffee or adrenaline these days, and it kills you to see him beating himself up all the time. He’s only human.

‘Blame gravity, not me.’ He frowns, and adds, ‘You believe me?’

‘Sure, and JFK is alive.’ You reply, laughing. He scrunches his nose up at that, trying to not show a smile, but you can see in his eyes, those tired eyes that lived off coffee and adrenaline, that there was some part of him that thought your quip was humorous.

Right then, Agent Romanoff walked in. If anyone had ever the self-esteem feel good about themselves in a room with her in it, they were lying. Her red hair was in a yoga bun, and she wore that black catsuit tied half-down around her waist. The only thing un-sexy about her was the fact there was a growing red stain beneath the button-down shirt. Clint seemed to get the message and signed his goodbyes to both of you as Natasha took his place on your examination table.

“Did I just ruin a moment?” she asked, unbuttoning her shirt unprompted.

There was a bullet in her lower abdomen, luckily the other side of her heart, and judging from the wound, was still inside. You move your hands toward the wound, and quickly assess before you pull on fresh gloves. She watches you, and lies down, administering herself the pain relief that you hand to her. Hopefully, her wound won’t need surgery.

“You say that like you’re sorry for coming in,” you reply, cleaning around the area.

Luckily, she doesn’t laugh, because that would hurt her wound. “But was it?” she pokes.

“Give me a break, I’m in love, not hopeless.” You retort, trying to stay professional. “…I mean, who even shot you, anyway? Didn’t your last mission end yesterday?”

“That’s classified. I’m a bad bitch like that,” she smirks, and unintentionally, you touch a tender area and she winces at the pain. Unfortunately for the Black Widow, she will need surgery. Before you move to page another medic, she places a hand on yours, and you look at her for a moment silently until she speaks. “…I know you’re not hopeless, ________, but it’s been three years, and if he can’t see you,” she gestures toward you like you’re the Mona Lisa or someone worth her time, “he doesn’t deserve you.”

---

Game Night Fridays were a thing, apparently. Something that you hadn’t been a part of until Doctor Banner roped you into being his partner for a table tennis tournament. The only rule was that you had to wear a stripy shirt, use no abilities to win the match, and have fun! (according to a retired Captain America, who you, after all, this time can’t believe survived coming out of the ice). Doctor Banner’s usual partner, the android Vision, was taking a long weekend with Wanda, his new fiancée to Miami.

That’s why you were stood in front of the table tennis table beside the sometimes-Hulk, sometimes-professor, all-times awkward walking Dad Joke Doctor Banner, wearing a striped shirt. On the other side of the table, Thor cracks his knuckles, and Clint flips the paddle in his hand and catches it like a cocky sportsman.

“Remember, to play fair!” Steve calls out, refereeing. He’s exempt of the mandatory ugly striped shirt, and holds a whistle in his teeth, about to blow. He’s very sports coach chic, looking very much an all-American hero.

“Or not,” Sam sasses, before the whistle blows, “and make it a match to remember!” He whoops.

Though the pair of them were Captain America, they had a different taste of how to serve their patriotic justice. The whistle is shrill, piercing, and Clint serves the orange ball.

Bruce hits it back, and Thor returns, and Bruce hits once more. You dive after it when Clint serves it back, and onward it goes. After a while, you take note of everyone’s style. Clint goes for tricky shots, and Thor uses the power behind the paddle to make fast ones. Bruce is reserved and stays on his side of the table, and with everything going on, you’re having to pick up the slack. You have a feeling that if Vision was here, he’d be a formidable player. Your reflexes are nothing on actual Avengers.

When Bruce misses the shot from Thor, you can see your teammate get tense, a tinge of green growing from beneath his collar.

“DoctorBanner, I think you should take a time out,” you tell him, but he shakes it off.

The next hit is quickly lost, and then it’s your turn to hit it. Clint’s making a funny face, and it throws you off momentarily, and you hit air instead of the ball. Thor roars with thunderous laughter. Doctor Banner looks more and more lime-green than his usual olive-tone. When Thor serves, it’s too fast, and it hits Bruce in the cheek, leaving a mark on his face.

The room gets quiet.

You place a hand on his shoulder, looking at the man. “Let’s get some air.”

You lead him away from the main room, out to the balcony adjacent to the main floor of the Avengers Tower communal area. Behind you, the Avengers resume their casual conversation, and the volume of the room goes from sterile to friendly. But just as you walk Bruce to the night air, Tony takes your place. He’s also not in a stripy shirt, and he wordlessly trades places with you, going in your stead to comfort the green doctor.

It’s easy enough to excuse yourself after that. Unlike the Avengers, you don’t get any time off, and the weekends are spent shadowing Doctor Cho at her clinic, and that starts early tomorrow morning. You say a quick goodbye to Sam and Bucky, who half-acknowledge you over their game of checkers (Bucky is playing red, and losing badly), and descend via the stairs. But halfway down, you hear someone behind and turning, you see Clint Barton.

His new hearing aid glows dimly in the hallway, and so goes his goofy smile. But there’s a different look in his eyes than usual, and you don’t know if right now you’re about to feel everything that you’ve been waiting for from him, or not.

He sticks his hand out to you, to shake. “Good game,” he says.

You smile. “Yeah, uh, it was a good game.”

“…it’s a shame you don’t come every Friday, ‘cause that was fun.” He adds, walking past you, continuing down the stairs. You take the cue and follow him the same way you were headed, down to the street. Most people take the elevator, in the once-Stark tower, but the stairs are oddly relaxing. “Maybe we can rush Viz and Wanda into a shotgun wedding, and we can play again some time.”

“I don’t really -,” you sigh, looking down. Clint frowns, and you don’t repeat yourself. You forget sometimes when he’s verbal and wearing the aid that he can’t hear everything. “Yeah. Maybe.”

---

For some reason, Clint Barton does not get hurt for three weeks. For three weeks, he keeps his hearing aids in one piece. He doesn’t get shot, stabbed or become unstable on a rooftop. He’s nowhere to be seen near your end of the woods. You spend your time catching up on paperwork, working on the medical profiles of the Avengers…and missing him.

It’s hard, because every time you give up on him, he comes back. And yet…there’s no sign of him.

Until there is. The Quinjet acts as a medivac, and arrives loudly, landing on the roof. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents escort a stretcher out, and you’re hastily called to action alongside the other medical professionals that have been called in. It’s barely five o’clock in the afternoon, one hour until you’re allowed to go home to binge-watch America’s Funniest Home Videos, but when you see who’s nigh comatose in the stretcher, your heart almost stops.

“How the hell -,” you cry out, starting to worry.

“Language!” says everyone, except Steve Rogers.

“-There was an ambush, Doctor ________. He was shot at by a sniper, but he managed to remove himself from 75 per cent of the ranged weapons range. He has three wounds of varying degrees of severity and is currently on a high dosage of pain medication to get him here.” Vision reports, helping the agents move the bed toward the elevator, to your set up.

“Thank you,” you tell him, and look at Clint. He looks so peaceful and would appear to be sleeping well if not for the two shots by his collar bone. “Okay, I need everyone scrubbed up, I need a dose of morphine prepped for when this wears off, call a surgeon in and - Doctor Cho, ready your cradle.” You speak hastily and remember afterwards that you’re not the head doctor on staff. “…sorry. Just, um, get him better.”

“________...” Clint says, woozily.

You look down to see him. His eyes are partly open, and slowly, his mouth opens to bare his teeth in a loose grin. His hands are soft, and reach for you blindly, but can’t seem to coordinate himself. He’s high off his face on the medicine, and you take his hand in yours, holding it tight.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You reach for his face, pushing his dirty blonde hair back. “It’s me.”

“You’re like, the best.” He says.

From across the room, you hear a nurse snicker quietly.

“You’re so…good at your job,” he slurs. “…and I’m like, Hawkbutt.”

“Hawkeye,” you correct.

“That’s the same thiiing,” he drawls. “…I’m a butt. I am. A. Butt. Heh. Butt.” He prattles.

“You’re not a butt, Clint. You’re a hero.” You tell him.

Doctor Cho comes behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s best if you sit out on this. You’re too close to the patient to take care of him.” She pauses. “It’s for the best.”

“I heard that! My hearing - aid - I heard that” Clint adds. “You’re right, Doctor Cho, she shouldn’t. Because,” he takes a deep breath in, as the other medical professionals swarm around him, readying the assessment before taking care of him, “Be-because I want to marry that lady. She’s the best.”

The room gets uncomfortably quiet, with just the EKG in the background.

His hand slackens off yours, moving over to his chest. That smile of his widens, albeit unfocused. He yawns, and looking your way, says with his hands just as he’s administered another round of drugs, his motions sloppy, but forgivable,

‘I love you,’ he signs.

You feel tears prick in your eyes. “Clint,” you reply, reaching for his arm. His pulse is weakening, the medically induced coma coming on, and he looks to you with his fading consciousness. You sign, just for him to see, ‘I love you too.’

---

It’s another six months until Clint Barton is cleared to go back to fieldwork, but that day comes and goes, and he’s still hanging around the Avengers Tower, this time in your surgery not for health reasons. The archery Avenger follows you around like a lost puppy in love, and to be perfectly honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Tony Stark went back to his teasing and kept the security tape of that day, archived in F.R.I.D.A.Y. under ‘Birdbrain & the Doc’ - a file he won’t change the name of. But it’s okay.

Even though he’s older, and you’re younger, he’s a combatant, and you’re a medic, he’s a coffee drinker and you prefer tea, you swear up and down that you’re as fond as ever for the dense archery master Clint, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

[badacts]

crack in the ceiling/where the light bleeds in

Jason has a problem. Tim solves it because that’s his job in this family. Also on ao3.

The effects of the Lazarus Pit don’t last forever. Just ask Ra’s.

The thing is, Jason thought that might be a problem he’d have to deal with later. Like, ‘towards the end of a natural human lifespan’ later, in the event that he reached old age in his round two at all. Instead, he’s twenty-four, and he’s pretty sure he’s dying.

Or worse, not dying. It wasn’t, after all, the Lazarus Pit that brought him back to life. It just restored the function of his brain and everything that makes him himself along with it. Which he now seems to be losing.

So far, the extent of his problem-solving has been some quiet questions about the Lazarus Pits that still exist and also determinedly not saying anything to any of the bats. Of course, keeping it on the down-low from them precludes acting crazy in front of them.

Which is why, when the becoming-familiar need to puke comes over him while he’s working a case with Nightwing, he bolts.

“The hell?” he hears from behind him. “Red Hood!”

Jason ignores him, rapidly regressing from ‘feared vigilante’ to ‘scared animal’. By now, he knows the drill: first, the faint roll of nausea, followed by confusion, and then the visual hallucinations. Sometimes he hears shit, too. Then it’s followed last of all by the pain of his brain trying determinedly to break itself apart.

Pain is just electrical impulses. A reaction of the body - just the workings of fancy machinery, or maybe fancy meat. It’s the other stuff that scares the shit out of him. Particularly the shivering loss of control.

He can’t afford it. He can’t ever, ever afford to lose control.

He goes to one of his quieter places, with the entrance through a slanted skylight on the roof. His hands feel a thousand miles from his head as he fumbles through setting the security system. His vision is sparking, bubbles of light bursting and then dimming again too slowly.

The sliver of rational thought left to him wonders if this time will be the one he can’t come back from, but the rest of him is consumed by the need to get somewhere dark and quiet and just wait. He takes off his boots and the too-heavy outer layers that are chafing at his skin and setting his nerves on fire. Once he’s mostly stripped down, he lowers himself cautiously onto the mattress in his windowless bedroom.

In the dark, with his eyes closed, it’s almost like having a stomach bug, if he discounts the sense of impending doom. He breathes, and breathes, and determinedly doesn’t lose it.

*

He wakes with a start when the lights come on overhead. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and the resultant bolt of pain drags a sound disturbingly close to a whine from between his teeth.

“Fuck,” someone says, too loud. “Jason?”

Jason doesn’t reply, forcing an arm up to cover his eyes. The return of the darkness helps, but it also makes him aware that he’s breathing too fast. He wishes he could stop: it hurts.

“Photosensitivity,” Tim says more quietly, either narrating the work his big brain is doing, or, in a more likely scenario, telling the others exactly what’s wrong with Jason. “Rapid respiration. Nausea, if I had to guess.”

Fingers ghost over his brow, and then prod less gently at his chest and abdomen. He flinches away from the touch to his belly. “ Don’t .”

“Diffuse abdo pain,” Tim says. “Don’t touch? Sorry. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He sounds awfully relaxed, for someone who’s in danger. Jason remembers vividly before - Tim underneath him, breathing blood, and the sick and overwhelming sense of victory that he had won out over his replacement. Not caring that the kid under him might die. Hoping for it.

He can’t blame the Pit for his thoughts, not really, but it can take some of the responsibility for his lack of inhibitions, control and morality. These days, he’s pretty happy that Tim Drake is alive and kicking. He really, really doesn’t want to be one to put him in a grave.

“Go away,” Jason grits out. Each muscle in his jaw feels like high-tensile wire.

“One moment,” Tim says, followed by the distinctive click of an earpiece being muted. “I’m not going anywhere, Jay.”

The desperation sweeps over him like a tide. Thirty seconds ago, he couldn’t have imagined moving. Now, he forces through that and lunges at Tim.

Then he’s face down on the floor and retching, not quite sure how he got there. His head -

“Easy,” Tim is crooning, like he might have been going for a while. It has to be a tone he learned direct from Dick. “Yes, thank you, B. That’s very helpful.” And that tone is the result of years of dealing with Batman. “ Yes, B.”

There are fingers at Jason’s sleeve then, pushing it up, and then a pinprick in Jason’s arm. Tim says, “Ondansetron administered. Give it a minute.”

Jason lies there, trying not to inhale his own sour breath, feeling the right side of his head throb in time with his heart, until his stomach actually starts to settle. It feels like fifty years - with his metabolism, it’s probably more like ten minutes. He empties a sigh into his floorboards.

“There you go,” Tim says. He sounds like he’s talking to the victim of a violent crime, not Jason. “I’m going to help you back onto the bed, okay?”

His hands wrap around Jason’s forearms, and he starts to pull Jason up. But wiry muscle aside, one hundred and fifty-some pounds of Tim doesn’t have a hope of moving Jason if he doesn’t want to be moved. And he doesn’t.

“...or not,” Tim says, and capitulates by settling a blanket over Jason - being careful to avoid trapping his arms - and then raising his head to settle a pillow underneath it. It’s not much movement, but it still makes stars go off behind Jason’s closed eyelids. He bites back another groan.

“Your head hurts, huh?” Tim asks, because he’s some kind of detective or something. Jason would roll his eyes if he could. “Have you been knocked out recently?”

“No,” Jason says, and then a fragment of his familiar refrain: “Helmet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tim’s definitely rolling his eyes. “What does it feel like? The pain?”

Jason presses his fingers into his right eye socket. Then he flicks them out to mime an explosion. “Throbs.”

He doesn’t need to see Tim to hear his metaphorical ears prick up. “Oh, shit. Did you see things, before it started to hurt?”

“Lights,” Jason admits. It’s less creepy than admitting that he also hears bubbling like boiling water, on and off, just quiet enough he can almost ignore it right before the pain kicks in. “They’re green.”

“Good,” Tim says, which absolutely wasn’t the response Jason expected. There’s more rustling, and then Tim says, “Little prick.”

“Fuck you,” Jason replies, letting Tim stick him with another needle, and then, when Tim snorts, “D’you have to do the clinic run too?” That was something he did once or twice when Bruce felt he needed the education - assisting Leslie at the clinic. Nothing makes you as appreciative of working on other bats as helping treat civilians. Normal people.

“Only when I really pissed him off,” Tim replies. “I’m going to roll you over now. Try not to puke on me.”

“Not gonna puke,” Jason replies, more out of stubborn will than any actual faith in himself. However, his stomach stays settled, though he keeps his eyes firmly closed.

“You’re lucky I brought my kit with me,” Tim mutters, more to himself than to Jason as he resettles the blanket. “What were you going to do next time you get a serious wound? Put a bandaid on it?”

Jason’s first aid kit is perfectly adequate, though maybe a little sparsely stocked right now. Normal people just don’t carry prescription anti-nausea medication on their person. Jason can’t think of a way to communicate that without moving his jaw, so he just gives an unamused huff.

There’s a ruffle of sound, and then the distinctive soft shick of someone pulling off their domino. “It’s just a matter of waiting it out now.”

“What?” Jason mumbles. He’s assuming Tim isn’t waiting for him to die - not even he would sound so cool about that - but he’s not entirely clear on what it is they’re waiting for, or doing, or what Tim just injected him with. It’s just that now the creeping anxious nausea has faded, it’s hard to worry about anything beyond the pain and the way his whole body feels like rocks shoved in a sack.

It’s the light - even through his eyelids, it’s uncomfortable. He’s just about to demand Tim turn off the overheads when a hand drops over his eyes, leaving him in blissful darkness.

“Sorry,” Tim says. “I need the light in case you actually are having an aneurysm. Do you get headaches like this a lot?”

Jason’s slightly offended by Tim calling it a headache. His brain is breaking. “Sometimes.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re having a migraine,” Tim says. “Have you been to a doctor?”

That question is frankly fucking laughable, and both of them know it. Jason mumbles, “I’m dead.”

“And as you like to tell us, you wear a helmet because you already died of head trauma once,” Tim says. “People with past TBIs are more likely to have migraines.”

“How’d I know that?” Jason’s slur doesn’t sound pissed off enough. Skipping the consonants hurts less though. “Didn’ finish high school.”

“Neither did I,” Tim points out.

“Nerd.”

“Loser.”

“Probably.” At least they’re in the same boat. “Migraine, huh?”

“Pretty sure,” Tim confirms. “If you were having a brain bleed, I reckon you’d be dead by now. Again.”

“Lazarus Pit. Thought m’head was broken,” Jason mutters faintly. He doesn’t mean to say it, would never admit it to Tim Drake in a million years. It’s just a moment of weakness.

“It is,” Tim replies, on the shadow of a laugh. “Not like that, though.”

*

The after phase is a real trip.

“Euphoria,” Tim observes. “Decrease in pain, plus all the dopamine your body has been pumping out - instant high. Same thing happens to new moms once they’ve pushed their babies out.”

“Thanks for that,” Jason rasps. He’s in bed now, though he’s working on blocking out how he got here. He’s already going to owe Tim for tonight, but he draws the line...right there. “Seriously, you can leave now.”

“No can do,” Tim replies. He’s still in his uniform, though he’s ditched the cape and the armed over-vest for just the pants and a slick-fabric undershirt. It makes Jason’s gear look clunky and old-fashioned by comparison. “I’m on baby-sitting duty.”

Not even the slow haze of hormones can dull the bite of irritation at that. “Fuck you.”

“To be clear, I don’t think you’re going anywhere right now,” Tim clarifies. “I’m just here for everyone else's’ peace of mind.”

“Anxious freaks,” Jason mumbles, though not unkindly.

“You can hardly blame them. It’s never a good sign when the Red Hood disappears without a word,” Tim says cheerfully.

Despite himself, Jason prickles. “They that worried for the safety of Gotham’s criminal element?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tim snorts. “They’re worried you’re going to get yourself killed. Again.”

Jason doesn’t have a reply to that. Sensing that, Tim continues, “I actually think you might be right about the Lazarus Pit. You thought it was wearing off, right?”

“Right,” Jason confirms after a moment, though grudgingly. Stupid detective brother.

“It might be,” Tim says. “Just enough for your brain to remember that it got seriously injured back then. Or you might have a different trigger. There’s something here about diarying your episodes and trying to figure out the causes from that.”

Jason doesn’t have to look to know Tim is scrolling through his phone where he’s sitting cross-legged on the mattress next to Jason. He said something brisk about being close enough to ‘monitor’ when Jason tried to shove him off, and he’d given up. His head doesn’t hurt anymore, not precisely, but he still feels wobbly-necked and fragile.

“Triggers?”

“Storms, specific kinds of food, stress,” Tim lists.

Jason opens his eyes specifically to give Tim a dubious look. “Stress?”

Tim looks back at him just as dubiously. “How many hours sleep do you get a night?”

“Fuck off,” Jason replies, and firmly closes his eyes again. Stress. Jesus Christ.

“I’ll get you a headache journal for Christmas,” Tim says lightly, and then, “So, why’d you try to beat me up?”

“I always beat you up.”

“Not tonight you didn’t. We don’t reward points for effort in Gotham.”

Oh. That attempt at beating him up. Jason mumbles, “Don’t know.”

“Whatever.” Tim can fit a lot of scorn in that tiny body of his.

“Maybe I just don’t want you around,” Jason snaps, sharp as he can make it right now.

Tim, predictably, rears back to give Jason one of his lizard-glares. It doesn’t last long though, fading into something a bit more evaluatory. He says, “You can’t make me leave.”

Jason sputters, caught between the desire to laugh derisively and the desire to get up and shove Tim out the window he came in through. Before he can pick, Tim lays down on top of the bedcovers on the empty side of the mattress.

“Hey, this bed is really comfy,” he says, as though he isn’t constantly being found asleep on hard non-bed surfaces across Gotham. Jason once found him napping on a rooftop.

“I’ll give you the website of the place I got it off if you go away,” Jason attempts.

“Like I couldn’t find it myself,” Tim scoffs, scrunching himself down into Jason’s pillows. “Hey, pass me that blanket?”

“No,” Jason replies, pulling the blanket in question tighter about himself. It’s his favourite, warm and soft, and the weight of it on top of him is already making him sleepy despite Tim’s rudeness.

“It’s okay, I don’t need one anyway,” Tim says.

“Seriously, go away.” What is the world coming to? The only brother Jason should have this much trouble getting rid of is Dick.

“Babysitting, remember? And when baby sleeps, so does sitter.” Tim pats kindly at Jason’s blanket-covered elbow. Jason kindly doesn’t strangle him for it.

Yet. He doesn’t do it yet. Because there’s a tickle of nervousness in the pit of his belly about having someone else sleep so close to him, and not out of fear for his safety, either. That on top of his incomplete acceptance of Tim’s migraine theory has him lying stiff in his blankets when Tim finally reaches over and flicks the lights off.

“Big spoon or little?” Tim asks, which surprises Jason so much that he actually laughs. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Did WebMD tell you that?”

“Nah. Everything is just always better with more sleep,” Tim replies, and then yawns. “Shh.”

Jason manages about five minutes of his commitment to stay awake while Tim’s breathing slows and evens out next to him. He’s warm and comfortable and his head doesn’t hurt anymore, and he might not be dying or going crazy after all. The closer he gets to sleep, the easier it is to believe.

He’s nearly asleep himself when Tim, sounding far more awake than Jason would have expected, says, “I’m not scared of you.”

He probably should be. That said, they’re Robins - not scared of much. Jason mumbles, “Go to sleep,” and promptly follows his own command.

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 23

Chapter title: Do You Love Me?

A/n:  EYYYY GUESS WHOS BACK!! I worked very hard on this chapter and even though it sucks I hope you enjoy! Alot was revelaed and happened so ooOoOo things are getting back and YALL ARE NOT PREPARED FOR WHATS COMING! ANYWAY ENJOY A BAD CHAPTER!

(ok its unedited because my stuff isnt working so ill fix anything thats wrong later)

lmaooo can you say bad ™ 

First | Previous | Next

words: 5083

summary: Logan has a proposition and Patton receives information

pairings: logicality, eventual prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, hinted/almost abuse

Ao3 Link  

“Ok careful Remus, hes just a little baby” Patton cautions, holding carefully to his more than excited son. Remus bounces as Damian takes his turn first, his own father seating him gently on the couch as Emile watches Thomas softly.

“Ready?” Virgil sits next to his child, rubbing his back soothingly as a small nervous ball grows in Damian. He nods biting his lower lip, Emile moves closer, with a quick affirmation from Virgil, he places Thomas into Damians arms. “Dee, this is Thomas” Virgil supports the small boy, holding Thomas steady.

“Hello Thomas” Damian smiles shyly, Virgil looks up quickly hoping his tears will halt in their own. “My names Damian” He puts his hand out, watching as Thomas wraps his intrigued fingers around Damians. A sweet giggle as the pair interact. “Papi look” His eyes alight as Thomas only laughs further.

“Mmhm” He responds, Patton gives hims a soft squeeze on the shoulders, noting the glazed eyes Virgil retains. Remus tugs on his father, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“My turn papa! My turn!” Valerie whines, the group chuckles as a tender connection of mystery between Damian and the baby is broken. Remy nods content, taking Thomas from Damians hold. He and his father move away making room for Patton and the twins, both bouncing with excitement.

“Ok, remember what I told you, gentle right?” Patton tries once more, Remus and Valerie nod a sudden calm flooding them. Remy cradles Thomas into Patton's arms first, securing the child safely. “Remus, Valerie...this is Thomas” He introduces, Valerie leans over a bit, waving with delight as the baby giggles. Remus shys away, picking at the ends of his shirt. Logan cocks his head allowing Patton to meet his eyes. “Crabcake? Wanna say hi to Thomas?”

“I don't wanna” He mumbles, Patton looks to Logan a quick understanding as Thomas is placed in the lawyers arms. Valerie continues her meeting, trying and succeeding to make the baby laugh. Remus pouts hopping off the couch, retreating into his room. Emile and Remy share a glance, before Patton himself makes a quick exit.

“Mind if I join you?” He knocks, a sullen Remus sits on his bed, tracing the outlines of animals on his covers. He shrugs giving Patton permission. Patton takes his son, placing him on his lap sweetly, wrapping him up. “Penny for your thoughts?” He jokes, Remus fights a smile. Patton hums ever so gently, swaying his son slightly.

“I'm scared” Remus admits, his pout continues. Patton adjusts so he can see Remus’s face, brushing fallen hair away. He waits for more, knowing that he needn't push. “I don't wanna break him” The child's voice is so soft, barely audible as it's muffled by insecurity. “He's just a little baby” Remus cries, Patton wastes no time securing tighter, rubs of comfort are administered.

“Shh, Remus its ok…” Patton soothes, the boy shakes his head, crying into his dad. He watches as his son picks once more at the edges of his shirt, after a few tries he notices a forming routine. “Kiddo breathe” He shows Remus how to do so, a simple method. “You're not gonna break him, I promise” Patton takes a tissue, patting Remus’s face delicately, drying away his doubts. “Babies are strong, and even then I'm gonna be right there” Remus leans into Patton, sighing shakily, a blubber of tears swelling.

“P-promise?” Remus asks, Patton places a loving kiss through his hair, nodding as he returns a sweet embrace.

“Promise” He assures. With that, the pair give themselves a few moments to reboot, preparing for their re-entry into the living room. Logan still holds Thomas as Valerie plays excited with him, Damian watches from afar, the smallest of smiles. “Come on” Patton encourages, Remus takes his spot next to Logan, before a moment of hesitation, he holds Thomas in his arms. Logan and Patton on either side.

“He's smiling!” Remus laughs, a mischievous grin upon Thomas’s face as he pokes and prods at Remus. “He tickles” Remus giggles, Emile and Remy smile soon joined by the rest. Patton nods, another kiss to his son's forehead as he eases into Thomas. “You're my friend now” He proposes, Thomas claps ecstatic. Virgil replaces Logan and Patton, surrounded by eager children, the lawyers meet in the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” Logan wonders, filling the kettle with water, preparing two cups. Patton takes two packets from the cupboard, handing the tea to Logan as they dance around each other. “Fruit or chamomile?” Logan questions

“Fruit please” Patton replies, taking the honey from the shelf, barely reaching. An eruption of giggles and laughter from the room distracting them momentarily. “I'm not sure” Patton admits, watching the twins from the opening, leaning over a bit, resting himself. Remus switches through fast faces, as if Valerie were clicking away the channels. “I'm just worried about Remus” Patton laments, Logan finishes his duties, pouring an even amount into the prepared devices. Placing a cup in front of Patton, he places his free hand over Pattons, squeezing it.

“Anything I could do to assist you?” Logan offers, Patton lets out a weak chuckle. He turns to the lawyer, scanning his features, noting the emerging blush as it comes. A sudden impulse to go forward halted by his own resilience to shatter anything. Luckily, or not, his phone offers the perfect excuse. Returning the squeeze, he takes the call out of earshot.

“Patt-” He begins

“I think by now we’re well acquainted, would you agree mister Hart?” The voice, though crackled through the phone, leaves no tone of fear behind. Patton takes a quick glance behind him, steadying his heart at the sight of a calm Logan.

“Who are you?” He begs, a sharp whisper. A toxic laugh comes through, only more painful through the static. He feels the room around him slow as he fastens, every inch of his body vibrating quickly, what was going on.

“I truly recommend you dont waste any more moments mister Hart, it would be a shame to see you go without a proper send off” And soon the noise Patton had come to dread, the line goes out, as Patton's mind only runs further.

~~~

“Holy shit, Tolentinos a romantic” Virgil teases, Patton nudges him hiding his dusted cheeks. “Hey if it doesn't work, mind if I…” he raises an eyebrow “Ya know” Patton groans, rolling his playful eyes.

“Walking away now” he decides, Virgil cackles but catches up nonetheless. He links his arms with his friend, striding they fall into a gentle routine. “It was...sweet” Patton hazes, his mind returning to that fateful evening, the stars had never looked so prominent as they flashed only hope into him.

“I'm only teasing, but uh...I think Roman might have some competition” A shared laugh, Patton shakes his head. The leaving winds of January hit them as they walk through the courtyard, the fountains soft spritz as it tries to fight the cold. A tight flutter to the chest as Patton eyes fall on someone waiting by the coffee cart, standing idle as he observes the world. Virgil coughs noticing the clear distraction. “Come on” He drags Patton over, watching as both their faces light up.

“Patton, good morning” Logan greets, a gentle glance to Virgil before he places a soft kiss on Patton's cheek. A soothing touch to Pattons arms. Virgil nods, happy for the long hidden smile on Patton's face. “Virgil, how are you?” Looking between the pair the detective smirks.

“Better” He admits, Patton gives a light squeeze.

“A very good morning to you all!” Roman gallants, nudging each of them. Patton gives a confused greeting back, Logan simply grunts. Roman bobs his head, none of them dare amuse his excitements, too early for the judges typical performances. Not that they didn't enjoy it dearly, but there was a time and place for such things. An impatient Virgil cant take his incessant tappings, giving into the trap.

“What's got you so excited Ro?” Virgil groans, taking his coffee, paying the amount needed. Romans eyebrows bounce, an unamused Virgil flicks him. Patton feels his hands quickly warm, looking to a more than confident Logan as he interlaces their fingers. “Walk with me Ro” Virgil decides, hoping to give the flustered lawyers a moment.

“Ten bucks he looked up how to be a romantic and good boyfriend” Roman whispers once there is distance between them, Virgil laughs but takes Romans extended hand shaking it.

“You're so on Reial” Virgil agrees, the pair disappearing into the safe haven of the courthouse. Patton watches the pair wistfully, shaking his head at their antics whatever they may be. Logan finishes his beverage, handing a prepared one to Patton.

“Well thank you!” Patton takes a sip, an instant calm seeps into him. “Logan-” He begins, his tone changes, pivoting from his cheerful delight, looking forward to his day must come later.

“We should talk, about what exactly this relationship is” Logan deems, Patton bites his lower lip nodding. “Boyfriend feels too casual” Patton supposes he agrees, not sure where the conversation will take them. “Partner?”

“In crime?” Patton jokes, he shakes an apology “You know you're not just...getting me? You get into this, you get the twins too” Patton reminds, Logan remains unphased “It won't just be fun Logan coming over, getting to see them in their happiest of states”

“Give me a trial run” Logan blurts, Patton coughs on his drink. “You have the charity dinner tonight, I presume Virgil was going to watch the twins, let me” He rambles, excited, almost a spark surrounds his feet. “We both know how long those dinners go”

“Lo...are you sure?” Patton doesnt want something to change, a quick turn and Logan could be out of it his life for good, even the thought shakes Patton, consuming his dark mind.

“Positively” Logan stands firm, his fingers still in Pattons, his heart matching Patton's steady beat. Neither had been so sure of something. Patton leans over, a soft kiss to Logans cheek. “Is that a yes”

“You break em, you buy me new ones” he teases “But yes” Logan goes to speak but Pattons not finished, his quick eyes stopping the lawyer “Lo, those kids are my life. They are my first priority always, I love them so much…”

“I wouldn't want it any other way” Logan sighs, Pattons lips ease into a gentle smile. “Tonight, Ill pick them up from daycare and go from there” He hopes, Patton squeezes reassuringly, his own nerves washing away.  

“Mister Hart there you are!” The lawyers turn, a resumed Haley approaches. “Mister Tolentino” She greets, Logan nods back.

“Captain, is everything alright?” Patton inquires, watching as Remy and Virgil reappear closing in. “Guys?” Remy and Virgil share a worried glance, reading each other's expression. A tightened grip to Logans hand as Haley begins.

“The case is reopening” She breathes, Pattons eyes grow wide “George isn't guilty...you were right” She continues but Patton can't hear, the wind swirling around him as his body falls light. No roots planted, he could float away riding a stream of his thoughts and fears. His doubts capturing him as they consume, the only thing he can feel his Logans hand in his own.

Not guilty?

I was...right?

“Stop!” He exclaims, sporadically putting distance between him and the group. Logan instantly misses his hold, a chilling absent on his hand. Virgil and Remy remain grounded, both simply anticipating. “Enough, enough with the back and forth. This is not a TV drama, this is a courthouse, there are peoples lives at stake. Children and families are involved. This is not a game, you need to be sure that the words you speak at this moment are as true as gospel” Patton's voice is deep, completely even as it shoots at Haley. “So captain, what is it?” Logan turns expectant to Haley, extremely impressed with Patton.

“Mister Hart...I am completely sure” Haley confirms “Under accounts, undeniable evidnce and overwhelming arguments also compelling, George W. Hoff…” Patton sucks in sharply, the room awaits those simple words. “Is the furthest thing from guilty” a shaky breath and an attempt to stop his tears...Patton was back.

~~~

“I want a meeting with the client and his family, I want to speak to Carlton, retrieve any previous files from the case and the existing ones” A frantic assistant does her best to keep up, following Patton as they tread through the courthouse. Logan follows calmly, trying hard to hide his smirk. “Also get me any files on detective Carltons work at the precinct since he was hired. I want to know the man so well we might as well be married” A quick chuckle from Logan catching the lawyers attention, he blushes his returns but they share that moment.

“Is that all?” She breathes as they pause in front of Patton's office. He softens pulling out his wallet.

“No, go grab some food Willow” he requests, she smiles relieved. “Thank you for everything, truly” He gives her some cash, a prideful grin before she nods walking away. “Sweet kid” Patton watches her go, a familiar fondness for the young dreamer, even though she was twenty four. He walks into his office, promptly followed by Logan.

“In all honesty, that was very attractive” Logan sits, continuing his light skimming of files. Patton lets out a nervous laugh, hiding his reddened cheeks. “Apologies” Logan whispers, Patton shakes his head

“No no it's fine, I'm flattered just…” He tilts his head, he's not sure what really. “I don't know” He laughs, Logan gives an uneasy smile but shrugs. “Hmm...Diana Bernard?” Patton reads “She's playing the prosecution” He informs, Logan registers a thoughtful glance. He awes as he reads her transcript “Woah she's young, twenty five years old,  graduated- hey! Harvard law.” He beams, Logan finds himself intrigued. How different their reactions to the competition are. “Seems like it's going to be quite interesting!” He takes a second examining Logan's face “I'm sorry...I shouldn't be...rubbing this in your face”

“Patton, as I have told you a million times. I am fine, I chose not to rejoin the case, I don't believe in my argument anymore. It would be a waste of my time and a fight.” He lays it out, Patton moves to his side after straightening his files, a quick peck to Logans cheek before he leaves his office.

“You're never gonna get used to that” Virgil plops himself into Pattons chair, Logan leans forward, deciding to play along to the sentiment “The casual-ness of it all, soon enough it'll become routine. Hand holding, quick kisses, prolonged moments of touching, you'll literally just be inseparable”

“You make it sound like its a bad thing” Logan deciphers quickly, almost wanting Virgil to go on. Virgil chuckles through a scoff, tapping the desk, a melody emerging.

“So you're not rejoining the case?” Virgil questions, bored by the topic wishing for a pulse in his interest. Logan, bored by the same question, changes it himself.

“What do you think about James and Roman?” He pushes, Virgil sighs his memories quickly showing that of which he knows. “No I'm genuinely curious, they moved quite fast”

“Romans happy, and I think that's really all that's important” Virgl yawns, laying his head fully on the wooden desk, the cool touch calming him. “What about you and Patton? Things seem to be going really well” He mumbles, Logan almost has trouble hearing him. “He seems really happy, and you do too” Virgil notes

“I am, and I just hope tonight goes smoothly” He sighs, virgil sits up raising a frisky eyebrow “Virgil, no” Logan shuts it down instantly “Im taking the children tonight, and frankly I am quite nervous” He whispers to himself

“Hey L! Thats a big step, I know Patton he doesn't just leave his kid with anyone” Virgil nods, a gleam to his words

“Yes, and after tonight he wont be leaving me with them again” Logan laments, Virgil tilts his head. “He made a very good point, I don't know the first thing about raising children. Yes, Ive seen it done, Ive been a child and been around children. But he is correct, there is a difference between seeing them at their happiest as opposed to raising them” Logan inhales sharply, Virgil takes his hand squeezing.

“Come back to me Logan” Virgil requests, remembering Patton's own grounding methods. “Ill help you, grab a notepad, class is in session” Virgil quips, a smirk upon his determined face. After an unsure moment Logan nods, falling under the complete control of the detective. The evening goes by quickly, Virgil goes through everything he can. The basics first, then he specifies more towards his own experiences with the twins and what they need. “Ok ready? Your very first test” Logan swallows but allows Virgil to continue “First thing you do?”

“Check that the car seats are stable, then check in at the reception” He taps his foot, adjusting his tie, wanting room to breathe “Before we leave I need to make sure that they both have everything, not forgetting anything”

“You're in the car, now what?” Virgil presses, checking off a few things as Logan goes through everything.

“I secure both of them, Valerie will insist she knows how to do it but I have to check her seat” Logan chuckles, Virgil looks to his own notes, a pursed smile. I didn't tell him that… “Then we drive home, after a final check, especially Remus he gets nervous in cars” Virgil just listens, once he gets going Logans a natural

“Youve arrived home, its four pm” Virgil proposes

“Ill arrange them some healthy snacks while they watch cartoons” Logan tries not to smile, reminiscing on his cooking lesson with the pair. “Then I will help them with any work they have, Valerie will work alone and come to me if she has questions. I have to...work carefully with Remus, he gets frustrated easily” Logan rambles, Virgil barely keeps up

“L, you know these kids..” Virgil interjects, Logans eyes widen softly. “Whats next?”

“They will have around an hour of free playtime while I prepare supper, Remus will sometimes offer to help and Valerie will be outside” He rubs roughly against his forehead “Supper will commence and then I will help get them ready for the night. Remus insists on taking a bath, while Valerie enjoys a shower. They don't need help, unless specified?” He checks, Virgil nods

“Ok, everyones ready for bed, they've eaten and done their work, its six or seven...what now?” Virgil leans forward, knowing Patton has the same thing for Damian.

“They usually decide to do something fun, giving me a moment to work if I need to. Or they will want to do something with me- er Patton…” Logan rubs his tired eyes, his mind pulsing “At eight they must be in bed, they will receive a bedtime story and final requests such as water. Then by eight thirty its lights out, except their nightlight” He yawns, the idea of rest calling to him

“Everyones in bed, final steps” Virgil teases

“Well this is more loose, usually cleaning, work or relaxing time. But once I choose to retreat to my bed for the night I must check on the twins at least twice” Logan aces his final words, before Virgil can congratulate the lawyer, Logan gains a slow smile “Im ready...Im going to be ok”

~~~

“You're really ok with me doing the ‘Alphabet Murders’ case?” James inquires, stabbing his salad again. Roman swallows his own food, nodding annoyed.

“Yes, I'm totally okay with it” Roman repeats “As I have told you a million times” James chuckles, taking his hand across the desk.  “Sorry Im just...antsy” He rubs his hand back, finding comfort tracing the sweet pristine lines of James’s hand

“I heard, big meeting tomorrow” James smiles, Roman averts his gaze, feeling just slightly out of place. Here is someone who understands him, so well and yet… “You'll do great, just be you, you know what you're doing” James comforts, its true, Roman knows exactly what he’s doing. If anything, they should be nervous of him. “Wanna go over anything?”

“No I think Im good, just gotta...take a deep breath-”

“Take it all in, feel all those halogens warming your skin” Patton finishes creaking into the office. Roman laughs, James stands shaking Patton's hand. He moves to Romans side as Patton takes a seat. Soon after another body enters the room.

“Diana Bernard” She introduces, extending a hand towards Patton. He shakes it with a cheery smile. “Damn, you're nice, gonna be hard to hate you in court” She jokes, Patton chuckles sitting down as she does the same.

“Shame” He shakes his head, a playful sigh. “Patton Hart by the way” He adds, She smiles.

“Alright lets get started, you both know why you're here” Roman claps, James skims through some files, tuning himself out of the conversation. “As you know, you'll both be on the ‘Alphabet Murders’ case. Mister Sanders you will continue representing the defense” Patton nods in confirmation “And miss Bernard you will be representing the prosecution”

“That is correct” She smirks, Patton glances her way, a deep breath. “I believe you will be serving as the judge?” She asks, Roman raises his brows with a smile.

“No actually, thats why I called you in here” Roman gestures to James, the judge puts down his reading and faces the pair “James McCoy will be replacing me in this position” Patton coughs but scribbles down some things. “I assume that won't be...an issue?” He checks, Diana holds her head up high shaking it. Patton smiles, Roman snaps complete. “Great! James would like your evidence and anything from the previous case and new information by the end of tomorrow”

“Will do” Patton assures

“Perfect” Roman sighs “Youre both excused, thank you” With a quick dismissal, the pair make their way out of the office leaving a curt Roman. “Mm” He mumbles, James leans over taking his hand.

“You alright?” He wonders, Roman feels a rapid  heat to his face, his heart skips only a moment. He turns to James kissing his cheek softly.

“Yeah, I actually am” He releases an amused breath, another kiss to James “Thank you” James shrugs but stands, one final look at Roman before he leaves the judge to smile in his happy thoughts. This moment, unbeknownst to Roman, would soon be over with a short yet filled text.

~~~

“Are you sure you can do this Liam?” Patton questions rushing to pack his things, the sound of the twins calling to him plunging a deep pain into his heart. “Liam!” Patton exclaims, his partner looks from the couch grumbling.

“What?” He groans, Patton pouts but keeps his breathing steady.

“The kids cupcake” Patton reminds, Liam rolls his eyes waving him off. He bites his quivering lip as the children only continue their wails. He drops his things rushing to their cribs, holding them quickly in his arms. Bobbing softly, humming a gentle tune as they calm themselves. “Sh, its alright my little angels” He assures, kissing them each softly on the head

“Theres a-” Liam interjects, burping through his pause “Car waiting for you out front” He informs. Patton sighs nodding, one more check on his children before putting them back into their crib.

“Schedules on the fridge, just make sure they eat and drink, then just if they start to cry-” He snaps in front of Liams un-observant eyes “Read or sing to them, rock them back and forth, ok?” Liam yawns “Liam, I need you to pay attention ok?” He panics, his throat clawing desperately as it tries to keep stable

“Its not that hard, I can take care of two kids for the night” Liam's voice only deepens, his aggravation clear.”Just go..ugh. And pick up another case of beer on the way home” He requests, already retreating to the couch.

“Our kids!” He corrects, his brows furrowed, his eyes shine with tears.

“Don't get emotional Patton” Liam warns, turning to the lawyer. “We wouldn't want anything bad to happen now would we?” His thin lips scowl, Pattons anger quickly turns to fear as his eyes dart to the door. “You know, I think youve been a little bit bossy tonight” Liam taps a mocking finger to his chin

“I'm sorry, just...take care of them ok?” Patton barely whispers, his body recoiling. Liam grunts, nudging Patton back a bit. “Liam please, not tonight, I have to go” Patton begs, feeling small once more. Liam scoffs, pushing harder once more, clearly wanting to go further. But alas, a knock on the door, grasping both of their attention.

“Patton? Are you ready to go?” Logans voice breaches Patton's mind, the dark clears out as the room returns to normal. “Patton?” An involuntary squeal escapes, somehow Logan hears it “Are you alright? Is he hurting you?” Logan knocks again, Liam clutches his jaw together, forcing Patton to straighten his posture.

“Go get the door, say nothing, got it?” Liam commands, Patton nods rushing. Using the ends of his perfectly pampered suit to wipe away any remains of his tears.

“Heya Lo!” He greets, a genuine smile across his face as his eyes land on his fellow lawyer. Logan makes an uneasy glance towards Liam who turns towards the kitchen, a concerned hand is taken between the lawyers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers, Patton squeezes Logans careful hand. “Patton?” The lawyer nods, closing his eyes as he confirms his lie.

“We should go!” Patton resets, his entire body depleting any previous feelings. Logan, though still wary, felt it best to get Patton away. So they set off.

~~~

“Remus come on, its dinner time” Logan asks once more, the boy grumbles but kicks the ground as he stumbles towards the lawyer. He lifts him up, placing him delicately into his chair next to Valerie. Once they are settled he serves them his homemade meal. A delicious mac and cheese, a side of sauteed broccoli and fresh juice. Not that they would ever know what that meant.

“Mac and cheese!” They cheer together, delighted laughs, Logan takes this as his chefs praise.

“Bon appetit!” He gleams, shaking his head instantly.

“Bone apple teeth?” Valerie questions, Logan chuckles stroking her head. She cocks her head, Remus begins digging in.

“Close enough Val” He assures, as they eat away, talking through full mouths of gooey delight, Logan moves to t he kitchen. Washing away slowly at the dishes, watching the twins. The night moves on quickly, once their food is finished Logan assists the children get ready for the evening. A very messy bubble bath with Remus and a long shower for Valerie and the twins are cosy in their pajamas. Relaxing, cuddled onto Logan as they prepare to watch a fun movie.

“I wanna watch ‘Chowder’!” Remus insists, poking excited at Logans face. Valerie yawns leaning her head on Logans lap.

“Not a movie stupid” She comments, Logan situates them both carefully. “Sleepy” She pouts in his face, he kneels in front of them on the floor.

“No name calling Valerie” He reminds with a calm tone “And Remus, we should watch something everyone will enjoy ok?” He suggests, they share a glance but nod. Soon enough the trio decide to watch ‘Coco’ and settle in with some snacks. Though a very amazing movie, and enjoyable, the twins fall asleep fast. Valerie takes her stride moving to her room almost instantly. Wishing a sweet goodnight to Logan.

“Nighty night” She places a kiss on his cheek, standing on the soft couch as she clutches to her stuffed animal. After a quick hop, she disappears into her room. Remus fights a little longer, kicking and moaning everytime Logan offers he give in for the night. Alas, the small boy had a long day and couldn't hold out much longer, soon enough his head falls into Logan as he shuts off. Clearly dreaming away, the sweet adventure of his mind running. Logan finds his own self falling to the mercy of the night, his own mind resting. Even through some trial, Remus waking every so often, Logan finds a way.

“Thats wha- oh!” Patton quiets instantly as he steps into his warm home. He closes the door ever so softly behind him, holding the phone to his ear. “Virge I gotta go, ill talk to you later”

Patton tries not to ‘aw’ audibly as his breath disappears. His eyes falling onto a sleeping Logan, protecting Remus with his arms. He sets his things down, putting away all his necessary items before moving towards the couch. He strokes away Logans loose hair, kissing his forehead softly, Logan stirs awake. A confused blink of his eyes as he wakes to a smiling Patton.

“Oh” He yawns, adjusting so he can face Patton. “Guten morgen” He greets, his mind still fuzzled. Patton chuckles leaning himself on the couch. Logan leans in kissing him, pulling away with a sleepy smile.

“I think its time for you to sleep, come on” He gestures, Logan takes a still snoring Remus in his arms but follows Patton to the hallway. They stop in front of the twins room, Patton takes Logans yawning cheek. “Thank you Lo, for everything”

“No need to thank me, I love your children. They're wonderful and creative and kind and-” He pauses, stifling yet another yawn. Patton chuckles. “Oh, Remus was having trouble sleeping, so I suggest maybe he stay in your room for the evening” Logan proposes, Pattons heart takes control, breaking through any grounding he set up. He leans in kissing Logan, not wanting to pull away from the perfect fit.

“I love you” He promises, even after the silence, he still smiles. Whether or not the feeling was returned, he knew it was real, there, true and...happy.

“I love you too” Logan admits, even though a question in his mind, the answer fell out instead. Patton purses a squealing smile. Before they can make any sudden movements, Remus coughs on Logans shoulder, sitting up.

“I love you too!” He cheers before his head promptly falls asleep once more in the comfort of Logans arms. Shared laughter before the night concludes. Each person falling asleep with a complete sensation of joy. Even Patton forgets a threatening call he received earlier. 

[jane-the-zombie]

No Control || SOLO

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Jane’s Apartment PARTIES: Jane Wu & Guest  SUMMARY: After a long day, a person from Jane’s past comes to visit her, and doesn’t like what they find. CONTENT: Mass Poisoning TW (brief mention), Food Poisoning TW (brief mention), Gun Violence Mention

Exhaustion clung to Jane as she slumped against her motorbike, pulling into her parking space. First, it the poisoning at Pat's Place, where she spent a better part of the night administering the antidote and taking statements. And then there was Erin Nichols, the black market organ dealer. Jane peeled herself off her bike, shoving the helmet she didn't wear under her arm as she went to crawl up the stairs. She was going to get a few hours of hopefully peaceful sleep before crawling back to the precinct to deal with the Nichols situation. She had lawyered up immediately, and there was no way they were getting anything else tonight.

Kavanagh couldn't have picked another night to get evidence dropped on her doorstep? Of course, that was just a grumpy thought and not actually Regan's fault, but it was closing in at eleven o'clock at night, and she hadn't been home for more than two hours at a time.

"You look like shit."

Jane's head shot up. Her hand automatically flexed to her gun. The only people that hung around this time of day were people buying drugs off Felix, and the last time she ran into one of them, they pulled a knife on her. It wasn't a drug buyer, but as Jane recognized the man leaning against the railing, she sort of wished it was.

"Daniel?" Confusion colored Jane's voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't a man visit her old partner?"

The question was innocent enough, but the hardness in Daniel Jefferson's tone wasn't easy to miss. He was angry at her. Understandably, Jane reasoned, considering she got him shot in the shoulder. Nervousness crept into her knees, and sweat was starting to build upon the palms of her hands.

"Thought you would have called first. I don't have the guest room set up."

Daniel scowled at her. "I have a motel room."

"Oh?"

They stared at each other until an uncomfortable silence washed over them both. Jane knew him enough to know that he was doing it on purpose, to remind her of what she did. He used to do it whenever she fucked up when she was still a rookie detective. They'd been partners for years; they were supposed to have each other's backs. That meant calling each other out when they were stupid.

Then again, Jane hadn't really been a perfect partner these last few years had she? She hadn't been good for anyone. She did her job the best she could, and then spent her time chasing after her next high. First, it was skydiving, roller-coaster riding, bungee jumping. And then it turned into jaywalking without looking both ways, speeding far too fast, drinking far too much, sleeping with questionable people.

She lived her life the way she wanted to — gambling. Other people weren't included in that anymore. She couldn't even remember the last time she answered a text from her father. He was the only one that still tried anymore. Lucy, her best friend since she was thirteen, had given up sometime last winter, Lizzie and Steve only called whenever she had upset Dad. She certainly didn't talk to her old friends at the station anymore.

Getting her partner shot in a blown stakeout operation on and then not visiting in the hospital even after transferring stations didn't exactly make her the most popular back in Portland. Not that she minded.

Forever was a blink of an eye, none of them would really matter in the coming years, would it? 50? 100? 500?

Daniel folded his arms over his chest and shifted on his feet, pulling her from her thoughts. "I'm here for work. I have a gig. You would know that if you checked your fucking phone. I tried to call you. Your voicemail is full."

Yes, she knew that. She rarely answered her phone unless it was work, let alone listened to voicemails. "A… gig." Usually, she would ask if that some new slang for a case, but she had the sense not to be a smart-ass at the moment.

"I'm not a cop anymore. You would also know that if you had bothered to keep up with me. I retired after the gunshot wound healed up." Jane gaped at him.

Dan was getting old, Jane would joke whenever he would yawn too much. He had a wife and a couple of ankle-biters running around. Well, then again, his ankle-biters probably weren't that small anymore, were they? Jane tried to remember when the last time she had really even thought about Daniel. In her dreams, probably, when she remembered the EMTs carting him away, blood pooling in his shoulder. But she never thought she'd see the day where Detective Daniel Jefferson retired.

Something that felt suspiciously like guilt gnawed at her. Of course, she felt guilty — but Jane never really thought about it because she didn't need too. She was going to live forever. How was one mistake going to impact the rest of her life? The rest of her life was forever. Daniel was going to live until he was 97 - because he was stubborn. Daniel had always been stubborn — with his wife and millions of grandchildren from his ankle biters. Then he was going to die because that's what he got to do at the end of his life. Jane had to start her life anew. She had forever.

Her mouth had dried up, and she was stuck staring at Daniel like he had four heads. She was reminded when she had first been assigned as his partner. A few years older than her, she spent the first couple of her rookie years looking at him wide-eyed as he dragged her to her first homicide as a detective. Threw her straight into the fire — the best way to learn, he'd said.

Daniel decided to keep talking since she hadn't said anything yet. "Private security," he explained. "Not a bad gig, certainly safer than what we were doing before."

"Are you looking for an apology?" Jane cut him off shortly. "Is that why you're here at my doorstep at five in the morning? Jefferson, I took full responsibility for what happened that night. I'm sorry. I screwed up. I'm not pretending like I didn't -"

"I'm not here for you, Jane." Daniel cut her off.

"Really? Then why are you here?"

"Because I got a text early this morning from your brother saying your dad's worried sick. He asked me to check on you."

She stiffened. "I don't need to be checked on like I'm a teenager. I'm busy with work and life — in case you hadn't heard about the mass poisoning or half of the other crap that goes on in this town." The bitterness in her tone returned. This town. This terrible, awful town where nothing good ever happened. Jane wouldn't be here forever, though. She could be wherever she wanted soon enough. What was a year or two or ten or one hundred? "Look, Turner transferred me because I screwed up. I get it. And I'm —"

"No, Captain transferred you because you were out of control!" Daniel argued. He ran a hand through his sandy hair, and let out a low, agitated groan. "Are out of control."

Jane bristled. "Excuse me —"

"No, excuse me. I forgot — Everything here is all about you now, right?" She recoiled like she'd been slapped in the face.

"My business between my dad and me and my family —"

"Wrong answer, Wu. You don't get to talk right now because I'm the one that had to listen to your brother, begging me to come and make sure you're alright because your father is beside himself. You are thirty-five years old, Jane. I've been watching you go off the deep end for three years, even before whatever the fuck that was at the warehouse."

It was like she was being scolded. Jane vaguely expected to get sent to her room without supper. "Daniel, I don't know what —"

"You're going to die alone if you keep this up, Jane." Daniel was disgusted, and Jane's mouth snapped shut. She could see it — how angry he was at her. He was tense, brow furrowed, fists clenched until the skin stretched across his knuckles turned white. He wanted more, but Jane realized Daniel really wasn't here to get into it with her. "Whatever the hell you're doing — the extreme sports, the fucking motorcycle, staying here in White Crest — there's something wrong with this place. We both know that. And avoiding your family's call, your friends, me? You're going to die alone and sad and early, and that's the only thing anyone will ever remember you for, Jane. What the hell are you doing to yourself? This isn't you."

There was a long silence. "And if I like where I am right now?"

"Then you're an idiot, Wu." Daniel shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, wincing slightly. She caught it then, how he favored his right side. He was probably still in physical therapy after the bullet wound. Her eyes flickered back to his face. "You're going to fall. And no one will be here to catch you, and the only person you'll have to blame is yourself."

Jane said nothing, and Daniel shook his head, muttering something she couldn't hear under his breath. Just like that, he walked away, and Jane was left wondering how many years it would take to forget the pain in her chest.