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unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix · 4 years ago

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Maybe In Another Life...

Summary: JJ is jealous of Andrew Mendoza because he has Emily and she doesn’t. Loosely from 15x07 "Rusty". Major spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet.

Jemily fic, but it’s a little bit of a sad one. I apologize in advance for breaking any hearts :(

Also big thanks to @bridget19 for beta-reading this!!

Read on AO3

Emily walked into her office and saw a bouquet of flowers on her desk. She saw a little red card in the bouquet and looked at the writing on it.

Thinking of you. - Andrew

Reaching for her phone in her bag, she saw her boyfriend’s name on the screen. Of course. She contemplated answering after four rings and sighed before tapping on the red circle to reject his call.

Emily didn’t know exactly where her relationship with Andrew Mendoza stood. This was a whole new experience for her because, sure, he’s a good guy, but is he really the one for her? She never did well in long-term relationships because of her trust and commitment issues. Emily always felt like someone could never love her enough to stay with her in the long run.

She sat down in her chair and heard a light knock at her office door. It was JJ giving her a bright smile and walking towards her desk.

“Morning,” the blonde greeted. “Another day, another dollar,” she sat on the armrest of the chair in front of it.

“Yep. Good old fashioned government dollar,” Emily joked.

“I can see Garcia hit up her favorite coffee truck on her way to work.”

“I had to cut her off,” Emily said. Garcia was more energetic than usual talking about the show they both watched, something about a blonde agent getting injured and professing her undying love to her female boss.

JJ smiled and nodded. “Wait, don’t you have a budget meeting this morning?”

Emily checked her watch. “Uh, yes, I do.”

JJ nodded again and drawled out, “Emily…”

The unit chief looked up and raised her eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“You buried the lead. Flowers?”

Emily hesitantly nodded.

“That Andrew Mendoza’s a keeper…” JJ teased.

“Mhmm,” Emily forced out a response as she stood from her chair, grabbing her black binder and phone for the FBI budget meeting.

“Can’t be late for that meeting,” she told the blonde as she made her way out of her office, tapping her shoulder with the binder.

“Mhmm,” JJ responded with a closed-mouth smile, watching Emily leave. She looked back at the flowers Andrew sent to Emily and her smile quickly faded away. JJ observed them with narrowed eyes, gripping the back of the chair a little tighter and harder than normal.

For a group of profilers, rarely anyone noticed JJ’s jealousy towards Andrew. When it came to the team’s love lives, she’d always smirked because it was just too fun to tease them about.

She reminded herself on many occasions that she had Will and her boys. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her family and has always made them one of her biggest priorities in life. But JJ also knew she would be a lot happier, if she shared her life with Emily Prentiss.

God, to be married to Emily Prentiss.

JJ smiled wistfully at the thought of being married to her. She would be so good with her sons. JJ knew Emily wanted to provide the maternal care she never had growing up, and imagined her giving that to Henry and Michael. Emily was also very loving and always listened to JJ’s problems, every rant and issue she had.

JJ knew Mendoza was a good guy. He’s good for Emily. The blonde bit her lip and stood from the armrest she was sitting on. She looked at the flowers again when she neared the door and took a slow deep breath, sighing. After a few more seconds, JJ left Emily’s office in sadness.

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The next day, the team was on the jet, going over the case with Garcia on video chat. The BAU had been called on another case and they had an unsub decapitating male victims and collecting their heads. They looked through their file folders for more details on their unsub’s victims, and all of a sudden, the tech analyst chimed in with a comment.

“Shut the front door. Andrew Mendoza signed this report.” Everyone’s heads shot up at her remark. “Andrew Mendoza is Prentiss’s boyfriend. He’s the head of the Denver field office?”

“Uh, yes,” Emily reluctantly replied. “He has been for the past, uh, two months. Um, his daughter and ex-wife moved to Colorado a year ago, and he'd been waiting for a transfer so he could be closer to Keely. She starts high school soon, so…”

Emily felt like she had just divulged a little too much to the team, and kept her mouth shut after receiving the awkward silence from them. She knew the case was in Denver, which was where Andrew was, but she wanted to keep her personal and work lives separate.

“But you guys are, um, you’re good?” Luke’s voice broke through.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all good,” Emily nodded. Well, it was a half-lie because she didn't know.

Spencer looked at JJ, then Emily, then back to JJ. He studied her facial expression go from surprise, jealousy, amusement, to heartbreak. He didn’t know if the others noticed, but he trained his eyes on her when Penelope had mentioned Andrew.

JJ had been shot by Everett Lynch’s daughter, Grace, about a month ago. While in the hospital, she had told Spencer the truth about her confession she made to the unsub who made her play truth or dare the week before: that she was really in love with Emily. JJ thought if she was about to die in that situation, she had already trusted Spencer enough to keep that secret. The younger co-worker figured it wasn’t meant for him once he saw how she kept glancing over at Emily at Rossi's wedding, especially when JJ paid extra attention to her during the twin flames speech.

JJ had her head down as she quietly scanned through the file again the entire time. She frowned and her eyes were filled with sadness and a hint of regret, Spencer noted. Practically rolling her eyes, JJ didn't bother listening to the team talking about Mendoza.

“JJ, Reid, check out the latest crime scene. Tara, Luke, go to the M.E.’s office,” Emily ordered.

JJ nodded her head towards Spencer, who nodded back. He noticed she masked her pain behind her eyes with a smile when she did. Maybe they’ll talk about it later.

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

JJ and Spencer had just investigated the unsub’s latest victim’s house before concluding that they needed more evidence from eyewitnesses for information on his behavior. After asking a few people, the two drove their way back to the field office.

JJ was focused on the road in front of her and Spencer examined her body language. His friend was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. She bit the inside of her cheek, and her eyes narrowed while her brows furrowed.

“JJ,” Spencer broke the silence.

She turned her head to glance at him, “What?”

“Your grip on the steering wheel is tighter than normal and the tone of your voice sounded controlled when you answered me, like you were holding back on something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does this have to do with Emily and Mendoza?”

JJ rolled her eyes, still focused on the road. “If Emily’s with him, then good for her.”

“What about when Garcia brought him up when we were on the jet?”

The blonde agent had enough. She took a turn to the nearest vacant spot and parked the SUV near the curb. She turned the engine off and faced the younger man. JJ quickly clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Stop it, j- just stop. Please just… stop talking about Andrew, ok? I don’t want to talk about his relationship with Emily. I have to keep telling myself she’s happy with him and I have a life of my own now. So, I am begging you to stop,” JJ vented out to him. She felt tears pricking at her eyes towards the end of her rant.

“I was worried about you, JJ. I don’t like seeing my best friend hurt like this,” Spencer frowned as his eyes softened.

JJ shook her head to stop her tears from falling, but felt one single tear trail down. She bit her bottom lip, so she would not start sobbing.

“I- look, I’m sorry for snapping at you, Spence,” JJ sincerely apologized, rubbing her fingers in an attempt to soothe her worries. She knew he meant well and that he hates seeing her in pain, especially if it’s over the woman she loves. “It’s just that-”

JJ exhaled out another deep breath to compose herself. “There were flowers Andrew sent Emily, and I had to bring them over to her desk before she came in her office.”

The delivery man had arrived at the FBI building, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked around to see if there was anyone expecting them. He saw a blonde woman pass by and quickly caught her attention.

“Excuse me. Are you Emily Prentiss?” He read his clipboard to check the name.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I’m not her,” JJ shook her head and smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I got flowers for her from someone named Andrew Mendoza,” he gestured to the bouquet.

JJ froze for a second and she heard her heart shatter before responding with a polite smile, the one she used in her past liaison days. “I can leave them in her office, if that’s ok.”

“Thank you. Can you sign this for her?”

“Of course.”

After signing the clipboard and thanking the delivery man for Emily’s flowers, JJ took them and walked up to the brunette’s office. She held the flowers in her hands and frowned deeply. 'Things must be getting serious, then?' JJ wished she was the one bringing her flowers and not… him. She set the bouquet down on Emily's desk before leaving her office.

“What am I going to do?” JJ rested her forehead on the steering wheel, still gripping it. “Things seem to be going well with him and I don't think I'll ever make her that happy, not the way Andrew does. I really lost my chance with her 12 years ago,” she sighed in defeat.

“13 years, 1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, and 6 seconds, to be exact,” Spencer corrected her.

“Was I really that obvious?” JJ chuckled.

The doctor shrugged, “I’ve noticed you subconsciously having similar habits to Emily, like playing with your fingers and biting your lip when you’re nervous, or even dressing up similarly to her. You stare at her whenever she's not looking, for approximately 4.78 seconds. Your body seems less tense when you hear her voice, almost as if that’s the only thing that calms you down. Your pupils dilate and your cheeks turn red every time she gives you a compliment and-”

JJ cut him off with a laugh, "Ok, I think I get it."

"Oh," he quickly shut his mouth, not realizing he was rambling again.

“Spence?”

He looked at her.

“Thank you. For keeping this secret between us,” JJ said.

“It’s no problem. You are my best friend,” Spencer gave a small awkward nod.

JJ gratefully smiled at him and patted his shoulder before turning the engine on again to drive back to the field office.

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

“Coffee?” JJ announced her and Spencer’s presence, holding cups for Luke and Tara. They gathered evidence that the unsub was dealing with alternate realities, and found themselves getting a little closer to finding him and what his motives are.

“Look, guys, we are banging our heads against a wall here,” Tara said. “I mean, Denver is littered with colleges, and we’ve already worked our way through most of the academics and scientists.”

“Well, you know what? We just need to take a step back and look at things differently,” JJ said. “The Mandela effect is a unique psychological construct, right? I mean, there’s got to be a good reason why he latched onto it in particular.”

“Well, creation of dissociative realities can often be a crutch for people who’ve suffered extreme trauma,” Spencer started with a fact that may be a clue to the unsub’s motive.

After a beat, Tara nodded and considered his statement, “Ok, let’s run with that. We’re looking for a loss triggered by an event likely caused by the unsub himself, and then this inability to accept this reality would be a defense mechanism for a mind racked with guilt.”

“So, unable to face reality, our unsub has created his own,” Luke connected.

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s killing fathers, though,” Spencer said after taking a sip of his coffee.

Luke shook his head and elaborated on the theory, “Unless it does. Say his own guilt is a major factor in a break like this. That would mean that he's picking out dads out of some kind of self-loathing.”

“This isn’t hatred towards his own dad,” JJ realized. “These men are surrogates for him. He’s angry at himself. Our unsub’s the father here.”

JJ recalled her colleagues’ words. She thought about the idea of parallel universes in that moment. Was she relating to the unsub? Had she subconsciously made an alternate reality where she and Emily were together because of her own guilt? It wasn’t the appropriate time to dwell on that thought, then again, when has she ever found the right time?

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

The team had just finished solving the case, and were heading back to the hotel they were staying at. It was almost midnight and most of them were already in their hotel rooms. Emily had come back from visiting Mendoza and his daughter, Keely. JJ was in the hallway grabbing a small pack of Cheetos from a vending machine near her room.

Emily shook her head and smirked, Some things never change.

JJ was walking back to her room and smiled when she saw Emily, waving a hand at her. The younger woman decided it was the perfect time to talk to her since she wasn’t with Andrew.

She jogged up to the unit chief, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Uh, listen. I know it’s late right now, but… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Just you and me,” the blonde quietly offered, placing her free hand into her pocket.

Emily nodded, “I’d like that.”

JJ gave a soft nervous chuckle before the two women walked to the younger agent’s room. JJ opened the door and held it open for Emily to step inside.

She lightly scratched her head and pointed at a plastic bag on the table near the TV, “Um… the team went out for dinner and I might’ve saved you some food, since you weren’t there.”

“Heh, thanks,” Emily said, acknowledging JJ’s considerate action and sitting on her bed..

The younger woman sat next to her. It was an openly awkward silence between the two agents, which was rare because they usually found ways to entertain one another. After a little while, JJ broke the silence.

“So, parallel universes, huh?”

“Yep,” Emily chuckled.

“Do you believe in all that?”

“Hmm?”

JJ grew quiet, “That there are multiple universes that have several possibilities we don’t really think about often?”

The unit chief looked at her hands for a moment before responding, “Sometimes, yeah. Do you?”

JJ slowly nodded in agreement, “Sometimes.” She was wringing her hands, something she did when she was nervous and didn’t know how to put things into words. “You know when my mom came to town, she told me about imagined futures and projecting yourself in them. Like a movie about how your life would play out, if you had things your way and it got me thinking.”

“About?”

She contemplated on her next words and squinted her eyes at the floor, recalling a memory a little while back. “Emily, do you remember when you said something about twin flames at Krystall and Dave’s wedding? That sometimes, it takes a parallel universe for them to be together again?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you even remembered that,” Emily said.

JJ silently nodded and gently took Emily’s hand in hers, rubbing small circles with her thumb. The unit chief looked down at their hands and furrowed her brows in confusion.

JJ slowly licked her lips before making eye contact with her. It’s now or never. “Do you think maybe in another lifetime… you’d ever give us a shot? You know… together?”

Emily’s eyes widened, registering what she just heard, “JJ-“

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry I told you this, Emily,” JJ regretted and tried to stand up, but was stopped by a hand gently pulling her wrist.

“No, it’s not that. It’s-“ Emily gestured for her to sit down. “I just didn’t know you felt that way about me."

JJ shook her head, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know how to tell you this and I know it’s already too late.” She couldn’t stop the tears that were falling and she felt soft hands cup her face to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” the brunette soothed her nerves. “It’s ok, I got you.”

JJ leaned into Emily’s gentle caring touch. She raised her hands up to where Emily’s rested, and held onto them. “I- I talked to Spence the time I was shot and told him I was in love with you. I told him if things were different, I would have a chance with you. I sometimes think about how life would be if… we were together. I would’ve shared the boys with you, Emily. They love you and you love them. I would’ve loved being called your wife.”

JJ took a sharp intake of breath before letting out a bitter laugh and shaking her head, “You helped me through so much and came every time I needed you. You know, there were so many moments I kept wishing for something more, and it confused me because I didn’t realize how much happier I felt with you around.” She felt a salty tear trickle down her lips and sniffled, “I love you, Emily. And I’m sorry it took me years to say it out loud because I’m a coward.”

Emily listened to her and processed everything she just said. JJ really was in love with her all these years. It wasn’t just in her head. She was still silent and it made JJ want to run away in shame and guilt.

JJ’s eyes widened in fear as she rapidly blinked. She shook her head, mouth opening and closing as she tried to explain herself, “Emily, I- I-”

“Hey, breathe. Just breathe, ok, JJ?” Emily softened. She pressed their foreheads together to calm JJ’s nerves. “Just listen to my voice and look at me, ok? I’m here.”

JJ took deep breaths and listened to Emily while making eye contact with her through her eyelashes. The older woman wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders and pulled her close. “How about we lay down? Is that ok?” Emily suggested and JJ nodded.

The two scooted up to the pillows and Emily still held the younger woman close to her body. JJ felt herself relax in her warm and comforting embrace, eyes fluttering closed to take all of this in. Emily slowly rubbed big circles on JJ’s back and kissed her soft blonde hair.

After about two minutes, JJ lifted her head and blue eyes scanned Emily’s features. She raised her left hand to brush brown bangs away from her forehead. JJ silently asked Emily if it’s ok, and the unit chief nodded, knowing what her question was. The two always were best at silent communication with each other.

So, the blonde leaned closer and they both closed her eyes, listening to their nervous yet steady breaths. JJ closed the gap between them and their lips connected perfectly, like they were each other’s missing puzzle pieces the entire time. Emily tucked in a piece of hair behind JJ’s ear and brushed a thumb against her cheek.

Holding the back of her neck, JJ adjusted her body to straddle the brunette’s hips. Emily carefully sat up and cupped each side of her face. Both women thought the amount of passion in their kiss would make up for the time they’ve lost together. Tonight was the only time they really had the chance to be together, with no worry in the world. There was no Andrew, no Will, none of the members of the team or their troubled pasts. It was just JJ and Emily as lovers for tonight.

Emily reluctantly pulled away to rest their foreheads together, while JJ’s eyes were still closed and blindly chasing after her lips. The younger woman’s hand was still buried in dark hair as she slowly opened her eyes, licking her lips. She saw Emily’s pupils dilated from the almost heated kiss and chest heaving to regulate her breathing back to normal. Emily gave JJ a short and sweet kiss before JJ laid back down beside her.

“You know, I was kinda wishing we’d done more than just that,” Emily admitted quietly.

JJ nodded against her shoulder, “Me too. But we can’t.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” JJ said, her head now in the crook of Emily’s neck and sighing. “I wish I’d said something before.”

Emily bit her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling, “I wish I’d said something, too.”

“Maybe in another life…”

“Yeah," Emily softly said. She didn't need to hear the rest because she thought the same thing. Her hand made its way down to connect with JJ’s, squeezing it lightly to know that everything is going to be ok.

JJ glanced down at their joined hands and raised them up to her lips to kiss the older woman’s knuckles. “You know, I remember joking around with Spence one time that it was his and Penelope’s job to get Henry into Yale. I didn’t even realize you went to Yale. I guess I really was thinking about you the entire time, huh? I think I wanted Henry to follow in your footsteps.”

Emily raised her eyebrows in amusement, “Wow.” She blushed and looked down at their hands, hiding a small grin, “You really wanted Henry to be like me?”

“In a way, yeah,” the blonde agent nodded, running her thumb over Emily’s. “Well, maybe without the goth phase in high school…”

Emily playfully shoved her and JJ laughed. She cringed at that goddamn awful photo Garcia had pulled up once and teased her about, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

JJ shook her head, smiling, and Emily groaned.

“To be honest, I’ve always imagined us living in Charlottesville, for some reason,” JJ stared at the ceiling, getting lost in her thoughts. “Maybe when we retire, we’d find a nice, stable home for us and the kids, you know? I think I want a place to finally settle down and not worry so much about what we deal with on a daily basis. Maybe we’d actually see our kids grow up and not miss out on that. There’s some wineries and vineyards we could go to… and this really good restaurant I could show you sometime, if we ever have a day off. Some places we could hike, you know if you’re up for it…” she winked at her.

Emily nodded, “That sounds nice. As for the hiking, that’s a definite no.”

JJ softly laughed and kissed her cheek, sighing contentedly, “What about you? What’s your alternate reality?”

Emily smiled, “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather’s home in the French Alps? I always thought that once we retire from the BAU, we’d go up there after our kids graduate high school. I kinda thought about taking his place up there after he died. You know, just to get away from things. Maybe you could ski with the kids and I’d be inside making us some tea and hot chocolate. We’d gather around a little fire and, I don’t know, make some crafty things.”

JJ nodded and lifted her head to look at her, “You still haven’t answered my question earlier. Would you have considered it?”

Emily let out a chuckle and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, “I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“I love you, Emily. I want you to know that,” JJ whispered, leaning back up to kiss her again.

Emily smiled sadly as she responded with, “Always, blackbird. I will always love you, too.”

Tonight was just them, JJ and Emily, no one else. They can worry about the rest tomorrow. For now, this was their chance to be together. A thought crossed Emily’s mind as she remembered her own speech about twin flames:

Twin flames. Two souls that are always meant to be together. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something. But the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart. They are a magic unto themselves, and together, they light the way for all of us.

Now looking back at it, she remembered how her eyes kept darting back to JJ’s at the wedding. The way the ghost of a frown was on JJ’s face as she squeezed Will’s hand in reassurance, or how JJ snuck a little smile at Emily when she stood in between her husband and her long-lost lover. The following events when JJ was shot, Emily remembered how her heart rate increased on the monitor once she entered the hospital room to check up on her.

Was Emily so blind to realize that JJ loved her back? She had missed all those signs JJ had displayed over the years. They could have been together, if only both of them said something sooner.

This was their time, their time alone. This universe gave them this night together. Only in another life, would they be together for certain.

#jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic

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charlieslowartsies · 4 years ago

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Why do the bonnie models dislike eachother in your Au? And follow up question, do other animatronics have this sort of established relationship with other models of themselves?

Mentions of mental health, etc below

Bonnie models are heavily, HEAVILY influenced by actual rabbits. Rabbits are strange, fourth dimension little shits one moment and yet loyal and sweet-natured the next. They can hold grudges like a sponge holds water. I used to have a rabbit named Hiccup who would pee on my bed to ‘mix our scents’ and would revenge chew on a certain piece of furniture if I corrected him or WORSE: removed my sheets to wash them. Yet he knew that when he groomed me he could not nibble my ‘fur’ and so he would lick me, he also liked to make my bed every morning, patting it down so it was smoother, whereas most bunnies would make little tunnels and dig as is their instinct--not Hiccup, apparently, because he had watched me make my bed plenty of times. He was sassy, smart, shitty, and very loyal. You can see where the Bonnie model attitude came from in the knight guard au, which helped me grieve Hiccup’s loss when he died in 2018. Let’s move on to your question though:

Unfortunately, because the ‘first’ Bonnie model (Springbonnie/Springtrap) ended up being used as the killer’s suit, all Bonnie models thereafter (esp our purple boi) are very antagonistic because they feel let down and betrayed. Why didn’t Springtrap fight harder? Why did those kids have to die? How many lives would have been saved if Scraptrap had gone against his Suit more? Mike and Gold and the Marionette and the Crying Child argue sometimes, so what could be avoided? It’s sort of a comment on victim blaming and a discussion on why abusive relationships tend to go farther than they should and why others have a hard time understanding a dynamic. It is not healthy, Afton/Springtrap DO NOT have a healthy relationship and I do not condone their actions/Afton’s treatment of Springtrap.

It is not something Bonnie should do either, but he is hurting from their history and so he takes it out on the two he deems are the worst. He refuses to separate the two because his anger is clouding his better judgement. Bonnie is also programmed to mirror teenage behavior and relate with them, and he has also never lost his Freddy model, and one of the main themes for Last Shift (though it’s been mentioned before) is that “You can’t have a Bonnie without a Freddy!” The resulting combination of a teenagers cognitive response PLUS the reliance on a Freddy model PLUS the young girl that haunted Bonnie for years until Mike came around in Devil’s Spine means that Bonnie the bunny has made incorrect conclusions and has colored his relationship with Springtrap and other Bonnie models by association. (This is also not healthy, obv.)

In his mind, Springtrap is no better than William Afton. We have seen in a few flashbacks and sometimes from Mike’s words, that Springtrap is NOT very emotive and tends to lock down emotions to get through what he can--years of living with cruel, manipulative Afton has caused this. But the original Bonnie model is not a ‘villain’ in the sense that Afton is for you and I. Bonnie does not know what we know and until/if he learns more, he will continue to dislike Springtrap in the way that some siblings hate other siblings when they don’t protect them from past parental abuse. This hurt and past wounds are what mostly causes the problems among Bonnie models. Toy Bon was ‘programmed down cognitively’ and thus is not as mentally sound as what Bonnie is used to. To Bonnie, Toy Bon is annoying nuisance who won’t leave him alone. (Not unlike a teenager with a MUCH younger sibling.) For Mike, who knows he can’t force Bonnie to like Springtrap, and he can’t reprogram Toy Bon (Blue), he deems it better to just keep Bonnie models separate if possible. It can be hard to over come your own programming, and he also hasn’t had the chance, of course, to sit Bonnie and Springtrap down and make them work through things. Springtrap could not walk between Ghost Strings and Finding Freddy, and it is implied a few times in FF that any attempts to get the two to talk ended....poorly. Bonnie models are portrayed as jealous, or at the very least insecure which causes jealous responses. Nightmare Bonnie and Bonnie somewhat fixed this, during Ghost Strings when they both wanted to have Danny Fitzgerald’s attention but didn’t want to share.

Other model relationships:

Freddy models: Despite Freddy being the most possessive/protective over Mike, and despite his stubbornness on certain things, Freddy is mature enough to separate issues or at the very least, be civil. He has no problem with Fredbear/Golden Freddy--the old bear is, in Freddy’s mind, his only ‘boss’ and because Gold is essentially Mike, Freddy likes the ghostly fellow just fine. He has very little patience for Toy Fred, (Ted) and sees his love of video games as an immature trait when there are chores to be done first, but he doesn’t really care that much. He is not sure about Lefty, but is willing to allow the bear to be on stage if it will make Henry (and Mike) happy. He, as well as his band members, do not know about the Rockstars yet.

Chica models: Chica is liked by everyone, and this seems to make her like her sisters better. Toy Chica (Chi-chi) is very bubbly and despite her fear of the kitchens, (a fire alarm went off one time in the 80′s and scared her and Blue very bad, during Jeremy’s tenure.) she is willing to defer to her first model and serve food, so long as she doesn’t have to work in the kitchen. Nightmare Chica is the only model of the Chicas that doesn’t get along with anyone--but, c’mon. She’s a Nightmare. She likes Nightmare Bonnie and her Chompy-Cake, and that’s it.

Foxy models: Another mature and varied line that get along well. Foxy and Mangle are very close, and Foxy is very fond of his ‘first mate’ despite the fact Mike could never find coding that related the two. Foxy is Mangle’s security blanket, and she is the only Toy models aside from BB that the original four accepted into their ring/restaurant with little hesitation. (At some point, she gave Mike the scars he now carries, but she made up for her mistake by protecting Mike during Finding Freddy.) Nightmare Foxy, is has been established to be Alexander Afton, the older brother to the Crying Child/Circus Baby and younger brother to Michael Afton. He gets along well with his model copies, hence why he choose to be another Foxy even after he left the original one his father...stuffed him into.

Sorry this got rambly! I love the FNAF series, and I want my knight guard au always be horror. But I also want it to be found family and working through trauma etc, to keep it ‘realistic’ as I’d like. (Haunted animatronics and ghostly bears aside!)

#knight guard au #answered #mental health discussion #bonnie the bunny #bonnie models #ask to tag #Anonymous

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eiwenmaclor · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal minds fic: Emily Prentiss a.k.a. Aunty bear

Summary : Emily Prentiss is protective of children, that's a given. She would cross the world to come to JJ's help, that's a known fact. What would she do if JJ's children were threatened?

Category: hurt/comfort

Warning: canon typical violence

Word count: 8952

Tags: canon compliant, takes place after the ending of the series, BAU as family

A/N: It's the first time I share something other than ficlet and my first Criminal Minds fic. Thanks to @lea-audague for proof reading this.

_____________________________________

"JJ?"

"Emily, listen to me. I have to go home. They are coming for the boys."

Her focus sharpened. There was fear in her friend's voice and that alone was all she needed to act before discussing it any further. JJ was scared for her children and Emily channeled all of her assertiveness, hoping to be the rock her friend needed.

"I'm less than a mile from your house, I'll be there soon."

The unit chief didn't hesitate a second and pressed on the accelerator. She was coming back to Quantico from an interview. It was purely by chance that she was in the neighborhood but Emily wasn't going to let this luck be wasted.

"Brief me JJ."

She could feel at that moment how her colleague forced herself to be an efficient agent before being a frightened mother. From the sound of it, JJ was in a car too and Emily hoped that she wasn't the one driving. After a short inspiration, the flow of information came. That was linked to the case the BAU was consulting on for the MPD. Will was part of the raid on a location they had suspected to be a base of operation for the mob. The police were hot on their trail. Whoever was there left minutes only before the raid. The search of the place had yielded a piece of paper with several addresses. All of them of cops. Will and JJ's included. And the SSA added at that point that one of Will's most recent case was a murder that seemed to be linked to the mob.

"They want to pressure Will. The murder investigation is the most urgent of them all. I know they are planning to take our boys Emily."

The unit chief heard the voice crack at the end of the sentence and her grip on the wheel tightened in response. Her words were infused with as much strength as she could give.

"JJ, you know I will not let them do that. If I can't take the boys with me to the BAU, I'll buy time. Trust me."

The answer was swift and JJ seemed to have regained control of her voice. Oh, how Emily could feel for her friend. Nobody would have faulted her for stumbling in these circumstances. Nobody but herself. Of course.

"I know. I do. I'm on my way with Mat."

"Good. Who's with the kids?"

Emily was trying to keep her colleague on track, not giving her a second to pause and spiral. JJ had once told her how she felt herself freeze when she found her sister after her suicide and again during the case they had in her home town. She didn't want the blonde to freeze and feel guilty about it. So she did what JJ had asked her to do then, she gave her things to do.

"Sarah, the teenage daughter of our neighbors, is babysitting them. I'm calling her."

"I'll call Mat as soon as I know where we stand. It will be okay JJ."

"You don't know that."

"I know that we will do so that it will be okay. Call Sarah."

She hung up on that note. She was on the LaMontagne's residence street and needed all of her attention. Emily's eyes were scanning the neighborhood, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Maybe no one was coming to grab Henry and Michael, but a Prentiss was always prepared. In that case, Emily was preparing herself for the worst, and hoping for the best. She needed to be at the top of her game. She loved the two brothers, as much as she loved Hotch's son Jack. The unit chief was finding it both an incredible motivation and a paralyzing fear. Compartmentalizing would come in handy.

At first, the agent didn't see anything suspicious. She parked on the sidewalk near the house but not in a way that could reduce visibility on the street from the house. Prudent, she used the key JJ had once given her "just in case" rather than ring the doorbell. She knew they might not have a lot of time. Inside, the 16-something babysitter had sprung on her feet at the unexpected stranger but was immediately placated when both boys called the agent by name. The teenager still had her phone in her hand. If Michael was already coming happily toward "aunt Emily" for a hug, Henry seemed worried. The profiler knew him to be very attentive and intelligent. And, after all, he was the son of two law enforcement members... Obviously an unexpected visit from the colleague of one of them would be a major concern.

"Hi boys! Hi...Sarah, right?"

The agent had years of experience with young witnesses and victims, she knew how to project what children and teenagers craved in a crisis situation: the reassurance of a capable, trustworthy adult having things under relative control. For now, she would act as if it was only unusual but not as dangerous as it really was. The teenager nodded, visibly relieved but also kind of subdued, somehow feeling Henry's concern and understanding what it could mean. Emily took a second to look him in the eyes.

"Your parents are okay." She saw his relief as if it were a palpable entity. "But your mom asked me to take you to the office." Emily put her eyes on Sarah. "JJ called?"

"Yes Ma'am, the boys just need to put their shoes on."

The unit chief offered a warm smile to the babysitter. She was pretty level headed and it was a good thing. Her voice was clear. The profiler could see her apprehension but she was putting a pretty solid front for the children. Just as she was answering, they all could hear a vehicle park in the driveway leading to the garage. Emily felt Michael go for the door, probably thinking it was one of his parents and she tightened her arm around him.

"Wait a second buddy."

This time her voice was more strict as to make him feel that it was an important instruction to follow. Emily went to a window to check discreetly whose vehicle it was and couldn't help but let a small sigh go through her lips. God damn it. The next second, she had put back her collected mask on and was turning towards the children, nevermind her heart that was beating way too quickly suddenly.

"Change of plans. Listen to me, and listen carefully, it is very important. You are going to hide upstairs. Bad people are coming but you will be hidden."

The agent was looking to each of the three children, trying to convey some sense of security. She already knew she would die before letting any one of them be taken but the point was to make them trust her on this. Maybe not as dramatically, but still.

"I will not let them hurt you, okay? I just need you to stay hidden and be quiet."

Emily looked at Sarah, who was very pale but looked determined.

"Do not go out under any circumstances. Phone silent. You go out of hiding only if JJ or Will calls you. Got it?"

She quickly obtained the confirmation from each of the children, including Michael who visibly understood how serious all this was. That, more than anything else at that moment, was deeply comforting for her.

"Good. Now, go."

Emily sent a short message to Mat's cellphone while they climbed the stairs. From the window, she had seen an unknown van and three armed men. The agent knew she had only few seconds to spare before they reached the door. Her hand was on her weapon but she hesitated. She knew several children were playing outside in the neighboring front lawns and any shooting in the house could lead to a stray bullet hitting one of the children she had sworn to protect. There was also the fact that they were three and she was alone. She had seen automatic weapons and Emily was pretty sure a shooting wouldn't end well for her. That, in itself, was a risk she was willing to take but that meant letting the children without protection at all after that... Not a good plan either.

"Shit."

Her hand reluctantly let go of the handle of her gun. She looked at her phone where a new message from Mat was on screen. They were 10 minutes out. Ten minutes. Emily closed her eyes and called. During the brief moment it took for it to connect, her finger swiped to activate a recording app Penelope had installed on all their devices long ago. She wanted to keep a material evidence of what would happen, whatever was going to happen. Just in case... Before she could think about it, the call finally connected. She didn't let her colleagues talk and her voice was tense and clinical. For the next ten minutes, she wasn't allowed to make any mistake. The stakes were high.

"Mute on your side. Three men, automatic weapons. I stall. You listen. You'll know what happens."

She didn't even wait for any kind of answer, hid her microphone clipped at her bra, and put her phone behind a furniture, out of sight. The doorbell rang. Emily had to admit that it was wiser than just force the door. After all, it was a residential area, the police response was good and any suspect activity would certainly be flagged by a nosy neighbor. The agent took the opportunity to gain some more seconds and waited for another ring. Finally, even if she hated having to do that, Emily went to answer the door. The profiler didn't want to make them nervous if she had to manipulate them for several minutes. The door was barely open that the muzzle of a submachine gun was aimed at her chest. She froze her hand above her gun and feigned surprise.

"What..."

"Back inside, no sudden move."

There were simple enough instructions and Emily followed them, slowly, each move measured. What she didn't like was the calm and control imbued in this cold voice and the equally cold face of its owner. They weren't bothering hiding behind hoods or masks. That was a big bright red flag for her, but also for the children. They probably wouldn't let any witness behind, or they didn't care to be identified and had enough resources to be sure to be able to flee. The last man to enter closed the door behind him. The first one was keeping his eyes on her. She tried to install rapport.

"Who are you?"

"Shut up and keep your hands up."

The rebuttal was dry and clear. The profiler was studying them for now. The first one was keeping his gun on her, the second one was looking around and the third one was looking through the window. They were very organized and knew what they had to do.

"Where are the kids?"

"What?"

"Your kids!"

"I don't have any children."

The game was on and it was a fragile balance. She had to unsettle them but not too much. Each unexpected information, each unforeseen event would be a source of stress. Emily had to make them feel unprepared. Maybe then, they would hesitate. And hesitation would make them lose precious time.

"Do not lie to me!"

"I swear I'm not lying."

"Where are your children Jennifer?"

Emily feigned the realization.

"I'm not Jennifer. My name is Emily."

"Do not...!"

"I swear! You can check I have my badge in my pocket!"

A couple of seconds of silence passed, heavy with tension. Finally the second one let out a low "what the fuck", and Emily took it as a small victory. The same man was ordered to check her pockets, and take her gun while he was at it.

"She... she's telling the truth... And... She 's FBI."

"What?"

"Emily Prentiss, FBI. Look."

The profiler stayed silent and immobile. She could see the first man, visibly the undisputed leader, think. When he looked at her, his eyes were dangerous.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just passing by... I work with Jennifer and she needed a change of clothes..."

"You're telling me that you being here is a coincidence?"

"Yes."

His eyes searched hers, and then went to her badge. The agent knew that giving up some truths was a perfect way to make some lies believable.

"LaMontagne's wife is FBI?"

"Yes? Supervisory special agent Jennifer Jareau?"

Her tone was slightly questioning, as if they were testing her, when she knew, from their behavior, that they just didn't have any idea about JJ's occupation prior to this moment. This time it was the third one, still watching outside, who let out a swear. The man in front of her was still looking her eyes intently, searching.

"He's a cop. She's FBI."

"Yes."

"You are a colleague here by coincidence."

"Yes."

"You do know they have kids."

Emily felt it was time for her to be more open, maybe seeming more helpful. If he was resorting to sarcasm, it meant he was starting to let some frustration get to him.

"Yes, of course."

"So, where are they?"

"I don't know, not here."

He clicked his tongue.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I mean, I swear they aren't quiet ones, I would have heard them if they were here..."

She hoped her trembling voice and sudden rambling would be convincing evidences of the stress and sincerity she wanted to project. He took some more seconds to think and she tried again to return some questions.

"What... what do you want with them...?"

"Not your business."

"They're just children..."

"Tell that to their nosy dad."

"What does it.."

"No more questions."

The metal of the submachine gun made contact with her throat.

"Am I clear?"

"Crystal. Sorry."

He looked at her for a second before making a decision.

"Ok, we're going to sit and talk like civilized people. You are going to answer my questions."

Then he turned toward the second man and ordered him to bring a chair in the living room while he guided her there, gun on the small of her back. He made her wait for the chair and sat on the couch. The profiler saw how tense he was. The couch was comfortable. He had chosen it for that reason, because it was comforting. That was interesting. For her it would be the hard chair, a very classic setting for a more violent interrogation. He was trying to scare her. It might have worked with a civilian but he was underestimating her. Good for her.

The second man came back and put the chair behind her, guiding her roughly into a sitting position and staying behind her, out of sight but not of hearing. She could feel him, hear him breathe. She had to admit that it could be defined as unsettling, but the profiler knew they were the most unsettled at that moment.

"Where are the kids?"

"I don't know."

"Let's say I believe you. What do you know?"

"I don't... what do you mean?"

Playing dumb was always fun. In that case it was very risky but it still had some fun factor, and as always, Emily was properly amazed by how much she could be underestimated as a woman.

"Do you know if they have a sitter?"

"Probably..."

"Probably?"

"I mean yes. I think they do. They are too young to stay alone."

"Do you know where they could be?"

"No? I... I mean... There is a park nearby but I don't know if they go there often or not..."

"Did Jennifer mention anything?"

"I... Why would I tell you?"

She had to defy them, at least a little. He would have grown suspicious of too much cooperation from her. They were talking about children. Her colleague's children.

"Why? Because I will hurt you if you don't answer my questions."

"I... I'm a federal agent... you..."

"I nothing."

There was a brief silence and his face hardened.

"You seem like a reasonable person."

"I... think I am."

"I can deal with reasonable."

"How?"

"Proof."

That was the only warning she received before he stood up and hit her across the face with the butt of his weapon. She let out a short shout, half from surprise half from pain. Her hand went to the side of her face, she could feel the broken skin under her palm. He sat down as if it had been a perfectly neutral interaction.

"So... I will repeat myself just once: did Jennifer mention anything?"

"I..."

"Do you need more proof?"

"No!"

Emily let the pain shine through her voice, which she wouldn't have done usually. He had to think that she was terrified.

"She... I know the oldest was feeling ill those last days. She was upset that her husband couldn't stay at home... And she couldn't either."

"See? Progress. What would they do if one kid was unwell?"

"Sometimes she brings them at work..."

"Did she?"

"Not today..."

"So? Keep talking..."

"Maybe they left them with their godmother. I think she lives nearby..."

The man behind her let out a sigh. He then remarked that they couldn't barge into another house without preparation. Too many risks of complication. The leader seemed to think about it and finally nodded. The profiler noted that it was a dynamic relationship. He was making the decisions but he was also taking the advice and opinions of the two other. That was an interesting lever to play with.

"What do we do?"

"Let me think."

They stayed silent for a while. Emily could feel it, they were close to the breaking point. Soon, they would reconsider. Another problem would be what were they going to do with her, but that was a problem for future Emily. The profiler was rather proud of the turn of events. Another good thing was that time was passing and JJ and Mat probably were half way to the house.

The moment was broken by the unexpected ringtone of the landline phone. Emily cursed internally as the loud sound began to repeat itself. No more words were said among the henchmen and no one moved. Everything was suspended to this ringing. The unit chief knew the men were anxious. She had already pointed out to them every single detail that didn't go as planned and they were one more surprise away from bailing entirely. On the other hand, Emily was preparing herself for the storm. Whoever was calling wasn't aware of the situation and that was an unknown factor she didn't want to deal with. But she would have to. The seconds expanded the agonizing waiting. Finally, the electronic beep of the answering machine echoed in the silent house.

All of Emily's hopes that the caller would hang up were crushed by an unfamiliar female voice.

"Sarah, it's Mom. I tried to call you on your cell phone. I just wanted to remind you that we have a reservation tonight. I know you don't mind the extra sitting time but you can't stay too late today. Try to remember to plug your cell and call me back when you have this message. I know you're here, so stop avoiding me Sweetie."

The unit chief felt her veins freeze over and an uneasy chill go down her spine. One word resonated in her mind. Fuck. Her rigid posture and stony face had not changed since the beginning of the message, giving her a controlled appearance. Which was exactly that. A facade. Her eyes stayed fixed on the wall in front of her. She had to remain calm. But fuck.

A second passed. And then the weight of three sets of eyes fell on her head. If looks could kill... She forced herself to not show any reaction. They were waiting for one. That much was obvious.

"So... The kids aren't here...Right?"

That was a new tone from the head of the trio. She didn't like it. The sarcasm and the sneer weren't doing anything to hide the anger. He was furious. At herself, for lying. And probably even more so at himself for believing her. But Emily would bet that he wasn't going to beat himself too hard... yet. The auto flagellation would come later, maybe. For now, he could be angry at her and so he would be.

She took an inspiration and opened her mouth before closing it without a sound. She could try to convince him, or to defend herself but that would not be a smart move. Any trust they might have had had been shattered. They were going to search the house even if she tried to deny. And trying to deny anything to this particular guy right now could worsen his anger issue. Defending herself at that point would probably lead to similar results. And if Emily was honest, she was not sure to be able to say anything sarcasm-free right now. Silence, at least, would not antagonize him... too much.

A fist hit her left cheek. The impact threatened to send her to the floor but she managed to maintain her balance. Half her face was pulsing with pain as she recovered. She was back in her initial sitting position when he struck again. This time she fell off the chair to the ground and a metallic tasting liquid spilled in her mouth.

"Hold her."

His tone was sharp and the hands grabbing and hauling her on her feet were rough. Her arms were kept in her back, leaving her exposed. For the first time since the call, she looked at her interrogator in the eyes. His face was betraying his need to regain some control over the situation. By lying to him, she had stripped him of that.

"Where are they?"

No way she was going to tell him anything. She could see what he was going for. He was making excuses to let his anger translate to his fists. Was he really hoping to gain anything from beating her? She doubted it. After all, they only had to search the house now. But apparently, she was worth wasting time. Had she bruised his ego that much?

And then, some part of her brain, the masochist part, noted that every second he was putting into beating her were seconds he wasn't using to find Henry and Michael. Unfortunately, the masochist part was making a pragmatic point and Emily was nothing if not pragmatic. That's how she decided to play the game.

"I don't know."

The back of his hand whipped her face. She couldn't help but to have a sense of deja vu. Between her beating by Benjamin Cyrus and her reunion with Ian Doyle, she had her fair share of previous experiences. Strangely, she noted that this time, the mechanics behind the violence were somewhat half way between them. Making a point and punishing her like Cyrus, searching for answers and punishing her like Doyle.

"You lied to me Emily."

The profiler in her identified the use of her first name as a red flag. It was not humanizing. It was used to make it personal, intimate. He could have used "agent" but choose to go straight for what he thought to be the weak civilian behind the badge. She could play into that. He wanted a power trip, she could let him believe he had one.

"I really don't know where they are!"

She put some desperation in her voice to press his buttons. In response, he punched her in the guts, making her gasp. She would have curled up if it wasn't for the man holding her from behind.

"Liar. Do you think I'm stupid Emily? Why are you here?"

The profiler took her time to recover her breath, answering only when threatened to be hit again. Every second she could gain was a small victory.

"I told you... My colleague asked me to grab some stuff for her because it was on my way..."

His hand went to her throat and he squeezed. His face was inches away from hers. She couldn't breathe anymore and at that moment she wondered if she had completely misread this man. Would he strangle her to death? Would it sit well with the two others? She had filed him as a control freak and a narcissist of some sort but was he a sadist? No. She believed in her initial profile. This was a power move. He wanted to frighten her, to let her feel as if he not only could but would end her life anytime. His eyes were watching hers but she couldn't see any pleasure in them, any excitement. Just anger, frustration and a need for control.

"So it's a coincidence. You were passing by... and you have no idea where the kids and the sitter are... Come on! You want me to believe that?"

He maintained his grip several seconds before finally letting go way before the FBI agent could lose consciousness. The sensation wasn't pleasant in any way for Emily and the wheezy quality of her breathing was making here cringe internally. His hand roughly grabbed a fist of her hair to guide her face in his direction.

"So... What will it be?"

Thinking fast, the unit chief opted to let him think she was abandoning the fight. Her voice was strained, tired. Resigned.

"I'm just telling you facts. I don't have proof. You can believe whatever you want."

He watched her a couple of seconds before hitting her again in the stomach. As she gasped, the man behind her let her go and she stumbled. Between being strangled and having her breath pushed out of her lungs, she didn't have to overplay her struggle to recover.

"I believe you're a liar Emily, and I hate liars."

She had just the time to ready herself when a fist hit her face again, sending her half on a coffee table, half on the ground. The profiler knew she had to take some blows and try to "play dead", or at least knocked out. The bet was ridiculous but it was the only thing she had in her sleeve. If they thought she was not a threat anymore, she may be able to do something. Half stunned she initiated a move to straighten when a foot got her side. She hadn't seen that one coming and her legs stopped supporting her weight.

The following seconds were a blur of blows received and discrete self preservation moves applied with varying degrees of efficiency. Finally she laid on the floor among some disturbed furniture, bloodied face, immobile and, for all they knew, non responsive.

"Come on, stop it. She's done. We don't need a fed corpse."

"Yeah, you're right... Fucking bitch."

"So... The kids... Their mother is a fed. Are we... okay with that? Because... I mean, pressuring cops is one thing but, bringing the feds to the fight... What do we do?"

"We have to stop this cop in his tracks, we don't have a choice. This one lied. Search the house, I'm keeping an eye on the street... just in case."

Two sets of footfalls left the room and Emily could hear the third one get away from her. She opened her eyes cautiously. Or tried to. Her left eye was beginning to shut. No one was in sight. That was good. Now, all she had to do was to get up. Her body wasn't going to make it easy. Slowly, she moved. And everything hurt. The unit chief had to control her breathing to not let any sound betray her. She was convinced that her injuries were mainly superficial but they were painful nonetheless. However, Emily didn't have the luxury to wallow. She had few minutes at best before any of them hit the jackpot and found the children.

Now crouching, she saw her interrogator looking through the window of the living room, his back to her. He was keeping his focus on the street. They had already stayed too long in the house and any suspicious vehicle could be noticed easily in this kind of neighborhood. He knew they were running out of time and the pressure was becoming heavy. The fear was giving him tunnel vision. The FBI agent he had just beaten up was already a distant thing in his mind. The profiler internally rejoiced.

He was less than ten feet away. Between them, the soccer trophies of Henry and JJ were displayed on a shelve.

Emily remembered how proud the oldest son was to win this one. And she fondly remembered how emotional JJ got when he insisted on putting her trophy next to his because it was obvious for everyone except JJ till this point that he wasn't proud to win the soccer tournament, he was proud because he had won a soccer tournament "like Mom". The memory really was a precious one.

If Henry's middle school trophy might be fragile, Emily had faith in JJ's varsity team trophy's build. Its marble base would make a perfect blunt weapon. Without losing a second, the unit chief grabbed it and struck her interrogator on the side of his head. Both stunned and surprised, he turned around trying to regain a very compromised balance and Emily greeted him with a second strike to the chin before doing her best to muffle his fall. She found it strange to be the one delivering that kind of blow for once but that was a thought for later.

He was unresponsive, on the ground, blood beginning to form a small puddle under his head. She checked his pulse and found one. Despite the adrenaline coursing in her veins and everything that man had done, the profiler registered relief.

Quickly, she searched him for weapons, taking back her own gun and separating his submachine gun from its magazine. She didn't have time to find her handcuffs. She would trust his probable concussion to keep him quiet for some time. They were two henchmen left and she had to protect the kids.

Emily took a short moment to listen for any sound in the house. One of them seemed to be on the first floor and the other was on the second floor. Her priority would be the latter, because the children were upstairs.

Every step hurt.

Climbing the stairs wasn't an issue in itself. Climbing the stairs quickly while doing it stealthily, that, was a difficult task for her current body. She did the best she could. She wouldn't let three children at the mercy of an armed gangster.

When she arrived at the top of the stairs, crouched to mask her presence, she saw him in the hallway, trying to break down a door. At his first impact on it, she heard whimpers coming from this room. The children were there. Before he could try a second time, she raised her gun and stood up.

"Hey!"

Not too loud, but enough to catch his attention. She just waited for him to react and face her, to have a clean shot. She pressed the trigger twice. He was dead before he touched the ground. Emily didn't waste any second and covered the feet between them. From habit, she kicked his gun out of his hand before ordering the kids to stay hidden. As soon as the words left her mouth, the profiler heard someone quickly climbing the stairs. The last henchman. She ducked in the room opposite to the one hiding the kids.

As the footsteps closed in, Emily was deciding what she was going to do. Trying to gain a visual on him was taking a big risk of getting shot. Too big. And without visual, the unit chief wasn't going to use her gun. There were three children nearby and any missed shot could be a lost bullet for them. No gun policy meant she had to disarm the last aggressor. Her pounding headache and reluctant body weren't finding this plan promising. That wasn't going to be easy. But she didn't have a choice.

Time was up.

Two things happened at the same time.

He called out for his dead colleague, giving her his approximate position, which was at arm's length, just around the corner, and she heard several cars pulling up outside.

Reinforcements were here. But they would never reach him before he finished to smash the door in and find the LaMontagne brothers and their babysitter. She had to gain at least a little more time.

Time was up.

Emily jumped from the room and rammed into the henchman. They struggled messily for several seconds, the width of the hallway not giving them a lot of room. One push from the profiler was the final blow for the door-frame and the man fell into the children's hiding room. His gun gliding a few feet away from him. The unit chief saw him scramble, half standing, to reach the weapon. Behind him the large window was giving the scene an overexposed quality compared to the narrowness of the hallway. She couldn't let him grab that gun. Not now. Not with the children at risk.

She pushed on her legs with all her might. That was a messy move. A part of her brain told her it would have a very messy result too but it was irrelevant. He didn't register her movement before it was too late. She impacted him in a way that would have made Derek Morgan proud. A tackle worthy of the NFL.

She heard more than felt the glass of the window break.

The next thing she knew, they weren't in the room anymore. One thought was at the front of her mind: the kids would be all right.

She heard confusing cracking sounds.

She found fascinating that, even if at that exact moment she didn't have any idea of where, or in what situation she was, some part of her brain was able to clearly label those cracking sounds as bones. Were they hers? She had no clue.

Everything was bright. Then dark.

Pain.

She was outside.

"Emily!"

David Rossi's voice.

Some things stuck to her. She was at JJ's. The kids were safe. She had been inside and now she was on the grass, outside. Apparently on her back. How? ... Oh... Yeah. Messy results. Yeah. She had tackled him through the window. She remembered. Not her brightest idea. Definitely very messy.

"Emily."

Dave's voice was a lot closer than the first time she had heard it. He seemed worried. Like, a lot. Maybe because she wasn't answering and had yet to open her eyes? Come on Prentiss, don't let him hanging like that. Her first try at talking resulted in a wheezy garble. Very reassuring Emily, well done.

"It's okay, don't move."

Her second try went better and her eyes, well the one not shut by a massive black eye, opened.

"Dave..."

"There you are. Don't move. We called an ambulance."

She saw him straighten and instinctively made a move to grab him which was both moderately successful and downright painful. Hence another grunt. But she didn't want him to leave. His face above her was anchoring her. Her head was pounding and a lot of things were blurry both visually and metaphorically.

"Hey, what did I just say? Don't move."

There was both worry and a fatherly quality to his tone and his expression that warmed Emily's heart. She needed that right now.

"Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just answering to JJ. She's worried about you."

And now that he told her, among the blur, she could recognize clearly her friend's voice. It was coming from above but she was not close like Dave. Several other voices were blending together around her but it was as if instinctively, she knew they weren't addressing her, so her focus wasn't on them. The blonde called her name and she could hear what she was saying.

"Emily! Rossi, how is she?"

Half a chuckle fell from her lips and she looked at the senior of their team. She knew she wasn't fine, but she couldn't be that bad. She was responsive wasn't she? JJ didn't have to worry about her. Henry and Michael were probably frightened. They needed their mother. Emily was fine with Dave.

"Tell her... to stay... with the kids... and sorry... for the mess."

That made the Italian American laugh and he looked up to JJ who was talking from the now open second floor.

"She's joking."

"I'm not-"

The exclamation died in a painful whimper. How could he not know she was serious?

"Okay, okay, calm down. She's telling you to stay with the boys."

He seemed to relent but he was still not telling JJ was she had said. That frustrated her when at the same time, she couldn't exactly explain why that was so important... A pressure from Emily's hand on his made him sigh, resigned, and swear in Italian for good measure. To which she answered with a short "dille e basta"before he transmitted the second part of the message.

"Oh my God. Emily, you can't be serious right now!"

The tone was half disbelief, half wonder. The brunette felt divided about it. What was it about thinking about the damages she caused, the window she destroyed, that was that surprising? But some part of her mind kept telling her that it would be better to talk about it later. Emily knew that she was missing something important. God that headache was frustrating.

"Emily, it isn't important right now, believe me."

"Dave, please, humor me."

"Did you hit your head?"

"Why? It doesn't change... the fact that... I'm sorry... for the mess."

"Understood. Please, just... calm down. JJ, she's sorry for the mess, whatever that means."

"That's it! Mat, could you... Thanks."

Dave was looking at Emily with fond exasperation, mixed with now well hidden preoccupation. But even concussed, she knew him well. Was what she was missing that important? Wait... She did received blows to her head. That was it?

"You had to go and poke the bear."

The brunette knew JJ was the bear here but she couldn't understand what she had done to "poke" her.

"What?"

"Come on Emily, there are far more serious matters right now..."

"I don't... It's just what comes to mind..."

What was she missing? The frustration was increasing. Did something happen that she couldn't remember? Did something happen to the kids that she didn't catch?

"The kids are okay, right?"

She was absolutely convinced the kids were safe but at the same time, Emily's mind was particularly foggy. It reminded her of the car crash and the evasion years ago. She was definitely concussed. And she missed entirely the look of realization of David Rossi's face.

"Emily, calm down. The kids are okay, they're safe, they're fine. Trust me."

He was placating, smoothing. She was confused but she could trust Dave. He wouldn't lie to her nor sugarcoat things. That was good.

"Okay... Oh! There is a recording... My phone..."

Another random thought. Why was she thinking about this right now? She couldn't retrace her mental process, and maybe that was what she was missing. How Dave could follow her if she couldn't do it herself... Emily realized she probably was still somewhat disoriented or confused. Or both. And the headache wasn't helping.

"You used your phone to keep JJ informed."

"Yes..."

"And you recorded the call?"

"Yes..."

"I understand, it's okay."

Without discussing it any further he passed the information on to Luke. Was Luke there the whole time? She didn't register his presence. But Dave was compliant now. She counted it as a win and felt calmer. He was listening to her. Still.

"JJ, she's concussed and confused."

Dave's tone was both informative and a clear warning. He wasn't going to let anyone mess with Emily. Even the original Mama bear.

"I suspected it."

JJ's voice was softer than before and when she kneeled on the other side of Emily, her face was a mix of emotions. The blonde always acknowledged more her feelings. The unit chief found it way more sane than her extreme compartmentalizing. Tears were pooling in those blue eyes and Emily's first impulse was to comfort her friend. Then, she saw that they weren't negative tears. Blue eyes scanned her, brows frowning slightly, before stopping at the unit chief's eyes.

"Emily, I want you to listen to me carefully. I understand if it's a little hazy right now, but what I'm going to tell you is the most important thing you have to remember."

The brunette focused her attention on her friend. JJ was controlled and the tone was serious. She did as asked and tried to let go of all the current pieces of random thoughts going through her mind.

"Me. Listening."

"Emily, you saved my children. I cannot thank you enough. Without you we have no idea where they could be right now and..."

The blonde cut herself off before losing her thread to what ifs.

"Thank you. That's all I care about. I don't give a damn if I have to clean a little extra a couple of rooms or replace some things. I can't replace my children, and I can't replace you."

The unit chief might have been confused and in pain but she could see the great deal of vulnerability in her friend's eyes and all over her face. The last dozen of minutes were so tense and heavy from her perspective but Emily couldn't fathom what this lapse of time had felt from JJ's part. Not being able to do anything, all the time in the world to second-guess every move and decision of the day to find a better scenario... The brunette understood the weight of JJ's words but something wasn't quite right.

"You don't have to thank me JJ."

"I swear to God Emily..."

"That's what family do."

They were family. And Emily wouldn't hesitate doing it again. Even if it cost her more, she would do it again. The past showed how far the unit chief was willing to go to protect children, how much she cared. But that wasn't even considering that the BAU was her family, and that included their families.

Roughly ten years ago she had come close, two seconds close, to blow up because Will was family. She had jumped in a plane, leaving everything behind, to find a kidnapped JJ, and she had not slowed down for a second when assisting her in the rooftop showdown, never mind plunging to grab her friend at the edge of the building. When Hotch had called her back to help the team through a rough patch, she had let go of her Interpol position without much of a fuss. She had taken the lead, however uncomfortable she was with that at the time because the team needed it. In Mexico, she had crossed the line for Spencer, to save his chance for a fair treatment. That was without mentioning how she found him one of the best attorneys of the country, calling personal favors. She had resisted Mr. Scratch's mind games rather than giving him any piece of information regarding Hotch or Jack. She had tried to be the blown fuse to Barnes's enquiry. That had failed spectacularly but she had tried. Finally, the year before, she confronted Dave, their father figure, when he stumbled despite his initial rebuttal, and imposed the team's help on him until he accepted it.

Because they were family.

And JJ knew it. She understood that that particular thought wasn't born from a confused concussed mind. No, that was all Emily.

"I really could hug you."

"Please don't... That probably would be painful..."

That mention, however lightly said, brought back the blonde's focus on her state. That much was obvious from the way the blue eyes scanned her again. Emily also felt Dave's hand pressing hers to gain her attention.

"Speaking of... how are you feeling? You took quite a fall here."

His warm voice was cautious. As if he didn't want to upset her, or maybe because he, himself, was upset by the situation. For the first time since landing on the grass, Emily took a moment to try to gather some clues about her physical state.

She was in pain. That much she knew.

Left eye blackened. That was already filed too.

Her right hand could grip Dave's without any red flag. But she remembered that moving her arm was painful.

Her left hand... No. Nope. That hurt. Copy. Not moving that one. She couldn't see it but JJ simply confirmed her that her wrist was broken. For once, Emily couldn't decipher from her friend's tone and face if it was really bad or just really obvious.

Cautiously she moved one foot, then the other, with only moderate pain in one knee. Again, she couldn't see her own legs but Dave confirmed that she had moved. She suddenly felt relieved, even if she hadn't considered the possibility of nerve damage until that moment.

So far, the news weren't that bad. Again, the fall wasn't from a very high point and her opponent probably had taken the worst of it.

"I don't think I hurt my back... But breathing hurts."

"You may have cracked some ribs."

That was Dave's calm conclusion. He was simply putting her sensations into clear words without any obvious emotional reaction. She realized that she was calm and more compliant than in previous occurrences. The oldest member of their team really had a good effect on her.

"It already hurt... before the fall."

Dave simply nodded but JJ frowned, visibly understanding that he was missing something.

"They beat her up."

JJ's precision made Dave recoil and then sigh. The Italian was torn between anger and concern when the injured woman interjected from her prone position.

"You should see... the other guys."

"Emily please, could you drop the sarcasm?"

"Never."

That made all three of them chuckle. The brunette knew that displaying her usual wits was reassuring them and she was starting to regain some of her bearings.

"It's probably looking worse than it is."

"Good. Because you look like hell."

"Always the charmer David Rossi."

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

Emily was relaxing in a comfortable seat, enjoying the simple joy of being able to turn her head without having to rotate her entire body to follow the match of the century that was being played in front of her. A smile was gracing her lips. Team Jareau and team Simmons were trying to prove their superiority in the fine art of... Emily wasn't a specialist but it looked like something between football and soccer. Were they reinventing rugby? Either way it was really good to see all of them enjoying the late afternoon warmth. The air smelled of the flowers Krystall had put in Rossi's vast garden but it was slowly overpowered by the tasty smell of properly barbecued meat. The unit chief felt her mouth water. The senior of their team was once again showing off his cooking maestria. She wasn't going to complain about that.

The last two weeks had been hard for her, but for them too. It always was when one of them was down. Emily was wholly embracing being outside after the three-day stay at the hospital -God she hated hospitals- and the days being cooped up in her apartment, in pain and restrained by a neck brace in addition to her wrist plaster. Of course she had never been really alone. Each day a new member of the team had came, taking turns making sure she didn't need anything and didn't overexert herself. She would never admit that it would have probably -surely- been the case without supervision. If she had begrudgingly accepted at first, faced with a dead serious Tara who didn't let any crap faze her, she had come to embrace and enjoy it. Yes, she had tried to send JJ back to her boys but the blonde had just told her "no" and stayed. Well, after that, Emily didn't fight their care anymore.

Now, they were all at Rossi's. Emily had suggested it. They needed to make good memories after the difficult ones. The only tragedy for the convalescent unit chief was her still active ban from alcohol because of the drugs she was taking. All internal bleeding had subsided, her broken ribs were healing, her head wasn't killing her anymore, her wrist would heal in some weeks and the bruises were slowly fading. In a couple of days, she was to come back to work, on desk duty of course, and still not allowed any plane travel. But she would be okay. They all would.

She was letting her eyes take in every member of that makeshift family. On her second day at the hospital, Will, JJ and the boys had come to visit. JJ had explained to her that the boys were very worried about her and even if she "still looked like hell", seeing her would do them good. And it did, but not only to them. Their hugs and the drawings they both did helped the injured woman to stay sane in a hospital that was only reminding her of particularly darker times. Somehow, Emily knew without having to ask that JJ knew perfectly what she was doing that day.

Suddenly a loud victorious roar got her attention back to the game. Luke was lifting a particularly happy Michael above his head, the boy throwing his arms in the air as if he had just won the world championship. Emily chuckled. Team Jareau was leading. Of course it wasn't surprising knowing that team Simmons was composed of four children and an adult whereas the former included only the two LaMontagne brothers and three adults. Something was to be said about fairness when one of those adults was a former soccer champion... But well, Mat's children didn't seem upset at all, so it maybe wasn't that important after all.

A familiar colorful shape approached the brunette and Emily saw a glass of an as colorful liquid appear in front of her.

"Virgin, of course."

"Penelope Garcia, you're the best."

The ex analyst waited for Emily to have a good grip on the glass before letting it go. It was subtle but the agent felt it and thanked her friend with a smile.

"I know Brunette Goddess of Badassery, I know."

Penelope sat next to her. She and Luke had come together and Emily couldn't be happier for the hacker. She had a smile in her voice was she asked about it.

"So... You and Luke?"

"No dear friend, we're not doing that."

Taken aback by the seriousness of her friend's tone, Emily's head snapped toward her a little too quickly, making her wince for a brief instant.

"Em, you're okay?"

The tone was again very Penelope-like, and sorry, and the unit chief was having a new kind of whiplash that wasn't involving her cervical vertebrae. She reassured the blonde incarnation of a sunshine that she had just moved too fast and everything was okay.

"I feel like I should ask you that question PG..."

The pinch had come and gone and Emily was looking at her friend, concerned.

"Sorry... That was a little too abrupt but I didn't want to let you deflect..." A small nod from the unit chief encouraged her to keep going. "Emily Prentiss, you scared me."

"Oh... I'm sorry Pen. Truly. I know that is a serious crime, and no, I'm not really joking. I'm really sorry to have worried you."

Emily poured as much sincerity as you could both in her words and her eyes, trying to decipher what was happening in the head and beautiful heart of the blonde. Penelope held her gaze a moment before letting out a sigh.

"It's just... Could you please stay alive and well? Is it too much to ask my faithful-to-a-fault friend?"

The brunette smiled with understanding and offered a hug to the other woman. They all had scars from their numerous years working at the BAU, tracking the most violent people, seeing the worst of human behavior. There was no judgment to pass among them for sometimes needing a little more time to digest things. And Emily had learned, with them, how much a good hug could say and do. Penelope Garcia had dispensed her wisdom about it, again and again over the years, welcoming them with open arms each and every time they needed it. The unit chief was happy to give her friend what she needed to heal right now.

When they separated, the blonde quickly wiped a lonely tear from her eyes.

"I'm just wondering why sometimes... Why you always put yourself in harm's way..."

Emily smiled again, with warmth and tenderness. With a small move of her head she encouraged her friend to follow her gaze and let it wander to the two blond boys currently tackling their mother because, apparently Emily had missed a big change of rules in this game. They were laughing.

"You see that Pen? That's exactly why I did what I did and why I would absolutely do it again."

They both kept their eyes ahead, on the joyful display and Emily felt the head of her friend gently come to rest upon her shoulder.

"You, Emily Prentiss, are an Aunty Bear."

A big smile split the face of the ambassador's daughter.

"And don't you forget it."

#criminal minds #fanfiction #emily prentiss #BAU as family

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vnights · 4 years ago

Note

What was the reunion between Henry and Charlie like? When did they meet again?

It was really, really tough.

Once the Marionette had burned inside of Lefty, Charlie’s soul was finally able to part from the machine, meeting her father face to face for the first time in decades. It wasn’t the Marionette, it was her, and the raw, jagged heart and soul put into their meeting was traumatizing in itself. Henry had his baby back, but... He couldn’t feel her, he couldn’t hold her, so the anticipation to die was growing stronger, simply so they could be a family again.

They met at the end of Pizza Sim, when Henry and Michael stayed in the fires, dying out with the rest of their family. (Well, until Mikey becomes Golden Freddy 😔 sorry mike) As for Henry and Charlie? They’re finally, FINALLY together again, wherever they may go, or wherever they may be. Hen has his baby back, and Charlie has her papa back, no strings attached, and no more worrying about the other kids, the Aftons, and who knows, Irene may even be waiting there :)

……Things are a BIT different in the Doily-AU, however !!!!!

Charlie had other ideas.

Keep in mind, Remnant can do very powerful things, and watching him lie there and wither away was agonizing for her. A little girl with so much love and care in her heart, seeing her father in so much pain, she couldn’t stand it. She didn’t want him to die, she didn’t want him to go away, so in a quickly-thought panic, she, for lack of a better explanation, gave him her essence, turning him into Nightmarionne, and ridding all and any realities of herself, as she is now, in a way, inside of Nightmarionne. He is the monster, she is the muse, and together they share a mind and prepare for Williams eventual return.

#Muse:#📼henry emily #🎁charlotte emily #🎭marionette #👁‍🗨nightmarionne #//I’m sorry this took SO LONG to release #//I forGOT IT WAS IN MY DRAFTS #//BUT HEYYYY ITS HERE NOW ???#//ENJOY THE EMILYS BEING SWEET???

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 5 years ago

Text

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 4

I went back and edited/rewrote the previous chapters. I also accidently posted this with an old chapters warning so sorry.

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5(will be added when done)

Attending a witch burning was not high on your bucket list of experiences to have before you die. You weren’t forced to attend, no one but the council was but you chose to be there if not for you than for Cordelia. She’d most likely be upset about crime happening under were watchful eye. The warlocks’ goings weren’t the highest priority for the supreme, they had the chancellor for that. How was she supposed to know that the man was corrupt enough to kill his own for a taste of power. You hadn’t spoken to Cordelia since last night, she had to stop your brother warlocks then in the morning (with Coco’s help) hunt down the woman who killed John.

You would have thought she would have made some time to scold you for your selfish thinking, drinking late in the evening with classes the following day. She only had the initial complaint then left you to your own accord. It was different. You still needed time to think about how you felt.

Cordelia’s whole ‘gang’ attended including Coco who had come from helping the witches and Mallory who you assumed was there because of Coco. The two had been pals from the moment Mallory was asked to show Coco around the school. You were surprised the two so quickly worked a spot onto the close friends list of the Supreme. A list you barely made the cut for nowadays. Not to say you did not get along with Delia, she was your girlfriend after all, if you weren’t getting along then something was going terribly wrong. Things hadn’t been the same as they were years ago, her job weighing down on her and tearing her away from you. You’ve never really been the initiator of affection which allowed the tear in your friendship. The two of you rarely having time alone since she’s been having to go away for council meetings. If Myrtle and Zoe weren’t going with her, you’d assume she was cheating.

You still loved her, although it was different to the fantasy you’d dreamt up from years of anticipation. Maybe it was high expectations? Whatever it was if you didn’t work on it soon there might not be an ‘us’ but two single entities with tension among them.

You stood on Cordelia’s left, diagonally behind her. Your parasol shielded you from the blazing sun. Your girlfriend spoke to the men, calling them out on their crimes for the attendees to ear. Her voice blurred together in your ears, instead checking out your girlfriend. When was the last time you touched her? Seen her body unclothed? Was she as needy as you or did her hand to a better job these days? You found Cordelia sexy in a sick sort of way as she spoke about the murder of your brother warlock.

The woman, Miriam Mead, kept staring directly at you as your girlfriend explained how she didn’t plan on breaking with tradition. Subconsciously, you took a step forward, focusing all your power into figuring out why her gaze was fixated on you. She was dowsed in gasoline, she turned away at last giving you some relief. As the flames engulfed her, she indulged in it. Prayed for her God, praised him. Claimed that the work of her Lord work will proceed and that the witches were powerless to stop him.

A vision of the horned beast you saw in your nightmarish dream flashed before your eyes blinding you temporarily. You lost your balance, stumbling backwards and dropping your parasol in the process. You rested your eyes, your body suspended thanks to the help of two women holding you upright.

“She hangs among the ones of light, tell her who you are, and the worlds fate will be sealed.” A male’s voice echoed in your mind.

“Brother?” you uttered out.

Why did that face show up now? You reached out, getting a better grip in order to stand up correctly. Your fingertips grazed over Zoe’s hands as you supported yourself upright. Your head pointed to the ground, your mind in a haze not aware of the people surrounding. The woman refused to let go until they got a response from you. You latched on to Zoe’s hands, a name popping into your mind. Who’s Michael Langdon?

“Y/N?”

The group was hiding something. Someone.

“Y/N!”

The flaming bodies burned on filling the air with the stench of cooked flesh. It didn’t smell as good as cooked bacon. A face blocked your view of the stakes, blonde locks attached to that head. More faces popped into view but the first being the most prominent. You removed yourself from the holds of Zoe and Coco. “Sorry, I lost my footing.” You avoided all their eye-contact. “I’m fine.” Cordelia looked at you still worried. “I’m fine,” you mouthed. You didn’t believe the words yourself.

“Are we ready to go, this place is really dampening my spirits?” Coco asked.

“I wouldn’t mind going,” you said rubbing your arm over the sleeves of your thick coat. This is why Cordelia didn't want you there, she didn’t want you to have to see all this. “Hey, Coco. Can I talk to you for a moment?” You caught up with Coco. “Did that woman creep you out?”

“Totally.”

“I felt like she kept staring at me,” you shivered. “I can officially say, I don’t like witch burnings.” Coco agreed with you on that one.

On the car ride back to the academy, John Henry Moore spoke about how he was going to have to track down his car, since the gas station had no idea were the car had been taken and no care dealership the vincity had gotten an ownerless car that night. It gave you an idea to cover your behind slightly. All you had to do was get an unsuspecting Coco to lend you a hand. You shuffled through the medicine cabinet looking for your medicine when you heard a student enter the room. You groaned, it had to be somewhere. Where did you put it? Those were meant to last a month and you lost it already. You hadn’t taken them in weeks, having your time slip away from you. Maybe you should have told Cordelia that you took them sooner, maybe she could help remind you. No- that’s silly, you could do it yourself. You were out of your old ones, so you couldn’t even take a lower dosage. You swore, slamming the cabinet door. You turned around and ran your fingers through your hair not wanting to know what will happen in you don’t take them.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Coco asked.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I can’t find my medication.”

“Would you like some help?”

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed. “Wait- you can find things. I was thinking about that incident with John. I heard he was found at the gas station; wouldn’t he have a car?” You leaned against the bench, near your student as she poured herself a glass of water. Your body was relaxed. You were on the prowl, you had a mission

On the way back from the witch burning, Coco had been talking to Mallory when the man spoke to the others about his car. You were in the limo sat beside your girlfriend. Her hand on your thigh rubbing circles into your skin-tight jeans. She kept close since your incident at the witch-burning site. You were slouched, leaning into her body and resting your head onto her shoulder.

“What did you do before you were a teacher?” the man asked. You didn’t realise it at first but he was speaking to you.

“Uh~” Nothing, you didn’t do anything except lounge about in your apartment on the other side of the country- oh and there was that short time when you researched the wonderous magical world. “Nothing interesting, I did a pilgrimage of sorts. Why?”

“You looked familiar. I thought I might have saw you somewhere.”

“I guess I have one of those faces.”

“Yeah, he would.” Coco snapped you out of your thoughts of earlier that day.

“Do you think it would be nice if we found it for him? You know, for helping us out.” You said trying to persuade her to help you. You wanted to clear your conscience. “I’ll need your help finding it.”

You knew exactly where the car was, that wasn’t your problem. You needed to be able to explain away why your DNA was in it. If Coco found it and you drove it back, the DNA on the car would make sense. All you had to do was hope the man didn’t have divination.

Once she helped you find the car, the two of you got it cleaned up for the man and ended up having a day trip to drop off the keys to the man who was now at the boys school. He thanked you both for the surprise. The both of you ended up having dinner at the school as a gift for your kind doings.

“I’m surprise I didn’t get a call from Cordelia informing me you were coming.”

“She must have been busy,” you lied, taking a sip of the wine you were having with your dinner. Apparently, Cordelia was trying to hunt the vehicle down for him as an apology for him getting in the crossfire of this whole ordeal, but you beat her to the chase. You made it out that she knew about your trip, even Coco thought she you told her.

Was it wrong to use Coco’s power to cover your arse? Probably but if she didn’t know that she was helping you not get in trouble, was there any harm to it? The trip back was long. You called for a limo to drive you back home.

“Did you think when you first joined, you’d be able to do this?” You asked Coco.

“Honestly no.”

“You’ve come so far. You should be proud of yourself. I sure am.”

Meanwhile, Cordelia’s mind drifted back to the events of that day, thankful for Coco and Zoe’s quick reflexes. It was now nightfall, she found herself cocooned in one of your thick blankets. She had taken the day off work to focus on the pressing matter. Now complete she could dedicate her night to her love, that being said, you were nowhere to be found.

You claimed you lost your footing but when in all the time she had known you had never stumbled in those ridiculous shoes you insisted on wearing. She used to tease you for the fact that you managed to have the landing abilities of a cat, always landing on your feet.

The one word you muttered before they could gain your attention was ‘brother’, spoken as though you were questioning it. You’d never mentioned a brother unless you meant a brother warlock but still- the witches rarely used those terms- it made them seem like a religious order and it was already hard enough as it is to convey that you weren’t a cult. The words were more personal, she had experienced a similar state as you what you’d gone through when she had her visions, but you don’t get visions. At least you hadn’t before.

You’ve spoke of your family few times, to the point she believed you had never had one. You mentioned on occasion your mother had sent you a letter detailing your family’s history and connection to this coven and the Salem witches. Besides that, you couldn’t even give out her name. No love or admiration towards your parent nor resentment, it was as if they never existed at all. But that idea would be preposterous, how could she not exist if you were here with them?

So, who was your ‘brother’?

Cordelia had gone back to the site after the burning as she knew the young warlock would discover what happened to his parental figure, Merriam Mead. “It’s over. We know who you are. Your allies are all dead. You’ve failed,” she said to the boy. He glared daggers at her. He stayed back, recovering from the vision of the Satanists death. He pointed out that he had already proven his strength of defying death to which the Supreme had already taken into consideration and countermeasure any attempts he could well in advance. “You can certainly go to hell, but you won’t find her there.” She casted a spell to act as a veil over who soul. He could go to hell, but no one would find it, not even his father. Only Cordelia could undo the spell and she had no intention of doing so. “You’ll never see her again.” Michael’s knees collapse in on themselves. The mand lands on his hands sobbing at the permanent loss of the woman who helped him. “Your alone.”

“I’m never alone. I have my father.”

“Where is he now? Why did he let this happen? You don’t have to follow his path your father laid out for you. You can write your destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it. If you come with me… maybe, we can find it.” Cordelia offered out her had to the son of Satan. “Together.” Michael takes her and allowing the blonde to help him up. Before he yanked her close and threatens her.

“Somehow- someway, I am going to bring her back and then I am going to kill every last one of you.” Michael let the woman go and began to walk off. “And for one second don’t you dare think I’m alone. I’ve got family in all places.”

“Ghosts aren’t going to help you-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Angel. An angel on earth. A fallen angel? Living among her coven. Oh god, what if they worked for Michael. There is no guarantee that they are working for him, but they couldn’t risk it. Any possibility of the girl siding with boy is too high. Who then? Anyone could be a possibility. Cordelia’s mind thought of everyone, pulling points for and against them. It was something she might have to bring to the others attention, they might have a better clue.

Back to the burning, you had just lost your footing, that’s it, no need to over think it, Cordelia convinced herself. It doesn’t explain how you haven't aged a day since she’s known you, but she’d age several. At first, she didn't believe it was you, putting it down to being a sibling of yours or a close cousin, but your words were all too much like yours and your eyes- the unnatural eyes she grew to love bore back at her in the same way they did all those years ago. A touch of your skin and she could read you like a book, all the trauma you had been through, being hunted all these years only finding safety months before returning. You never mentioned it, acted like it never happened. It appeared that way a lot, the information she read off you seemed like a fantasy book instead of a biography from the nonfiction section of a library. She guessed that you didn’t wish to share those parts of your life with her, answering vaguely about how boring your life was until you came here, but from the little she saw, you lived the dream, the only thing you didn’t have was the girl.

Cordelia found your frozen state disconcerting to say the least but didn’t wish to bring it up as it didn’t bother you. You, barely looking 18 while her, in a few years nearing her fifties. You were older than her, but no one believed that she doubted her friends, Zoe and the rest thought she was being truthful if it weren’t for yours and Myrtle’s conformation.

She invited you back into her life and the rest was history.

You brushed it off every time someone was shocked that you two went to school together. Some joked that you were a vampire, always being locked up in your room, staying up til the late hours and barely eating with the others. The students got used to it, but Cordelia didn't. It always stuck with her at the back of her head.

The woman decided to go down to make a cup of tea, her walm of her bed not feeling the same as when you were there with her. She noticed the back door open. She headed to close it when she noticed you sitting outside.

“Love?” You spun around at the sound of her voice. You smiled sweetly as you wrapped the black dressing gown you wore tighter around your frame. “What are you doing out here?”

“Admiring the night sky,” you said, laying out your hand inviting her to join you. She took it, carefully allowing you to help her sit down. “I always loved a starry night.”

“I recall.”

“Once, I camped out just to see the northern lights and I’ve never missed a meteor shower.”

“You’ve had an amazing life.”

“Yeah~ Would have been better if you were there.”

“We all make mistakes.”

You laid down to get a better view of the sky, laying you head on your bent arm. She eased herself down, laying her head on your chest.

Cordelia had been away from you for awhile now, you both noticed. You’d become more drawn into your studies to which Cordelia had no idea what you were investigating. She would stop you immediately if she found out. With each day you were growing more paranoid- just another reason you stayed alone. She hadn’t caught on to your smoking habits which had only increased since she took away the first box from you. You had a fresh packet hidden away, covered by the fabric of your stolen nightgown.

Your body was tense under Cordelia. She kept silent hoping that you’d bring up your concerns without her having to dig them out. The blonde picked up the scent of smoke in the air, she assumed one of the girls came out to smoke before she joined you.

She understood why you liked the nights sky, the stars twinkled so bright form the spot you both laid. The stars were long dead and yet they live on as their lights can be seen for millennia.

"Delia?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'm broken?"

"What? Of course not honey." She sat up and turned around to face you. You didn’t bother to look her way. "Why would you ask that?"

"Something's wrong with me.” You turned and buried yourself into her side not wanting her to see your face. “Why aren’t I normal?"

"None of us are normal sweathear-"

"I'm forty-five and I still get age checked every time I get a drink."

"Honey-" She pulled you away from her. "Is this really bothering you?"

"Obviously."

"You've never shown concern before-"

"People keep calling me a gold digger. Saying bad things about you and me-"

"Who's saying that?"

"A couple of the girls, the public-"

"You don't have to deal with whatever anyone outside has to think, they don't know what we have, as for the girls I can deal with them."

"For a second it almost sounded like I wasn't your senior but what they see." You sighed. "I'm stressing too much."

“Is that all you're concerned about?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve never brought it up before,” Cordelia said. “You’re not deflecting your feelings, are you?”

“Of course not.” Of course, you were. If you worry about yourself, she won’t pick up your worried about her.

You convinced the doctor to schedule you a bunch of tests at the local hospital. You came in with the opposite problems most women your age did. Most people would love to be in the same situation as you. “I don't want to look young while my girlfriend grows old. Please, help a sister out.” She didn't know what answer you hoped to find but she wished you did. She knew you weren’t lying, she had been your doctor for years since you had been at the academy.

You didn’t tell Cordelia until she caught you packing to leave.

“You're doing what?”

You didn’t respond, too busy backing your belongings for the overnight stay. When she didn’t gain your attention, she used her magic to flick your duffle bag across the room. You growled in, clenching your fists to stop you from snapping at the supreme. You had no chance; she was the most powerful witch in the coven.

“I need to find out what's wrong with me.”

You turned to go and pick up your bag when you can’t move anymore. CORDELIA! Hands meet your upper arms and your frozen limbs thawed out as she eases you against a wall, to contain you.

“Honey, you’re fine. Nothing's wrong.”

“Everything is wrong Cordelia. I shouldn't be like this.”

“It’s not the best time to do this baby-”

“If not now Delia, when?”

“The school isn’t safe at the moment, if you leave the grounds, I can’t protect you.”

“The threat is gone; you stopped the warlocks-”

“It’s not the warlocks I’m worried about,” You waited for her to clarify. “It’s one.”

“Is that why you went to that school in the first place?” You asked. “Why didn’t you tell me if there was a threat? I could have done something-”

“And put yourself in danger? I couldn’t have that.” What could you have done? You weren’t like the rest of the staff; the craft wasn’t your strong suit. Cordelia was doing what she thought was best for you.

“Did you mention me at school?”

“No.”

“Then this Michael Langdon won’t know of me.”

“I never mentioned his name. How did you know that?”

“I-I’m more perceptive than you think,” You stuttered. “I figured it out through Divination or some crap like that. It’s beside the point. I’m still going, and you aren’t going to stop me.” You grabbed your bag and headed out of your shared bedroom.

“I’m going with you,” she said. “I’ll get the others to keep an eye on the girls.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I haven’t spent enough time with you as of late. It’s blatantly clear now, I didn’t even know you could- I want to make it up to you. I want to be there for you.”

Laying in hospital bed after some of your tests, you heard the hospital door’s room open. Cordelia only exited the room, so you thought it was one of the nurses. You were shocked to see a young man dressed in black. You sensed the power radiating off him, you had a feeling who this man was.

“Who are you?”

“Michael Langdon.” That was the name of the kid that was giving Cordelia trouble. “You have no need to fear me Y/N, I come here as a friend.”

“I am no friend of yours.” You sat yourself up in your hospital bed.

“Well, not of mine but my fathers.”

“I don’t understand.” His father, who was his father? You weren’t friends with many men or anyone for that matter outsides of the academy. “Your father?” He walked over and took residence in the spot that Cordelia was in moments prior. Speaking of which, she should be back soon.

“My father led me to you, indirectly of course but you would know that being acquaintances with him. Smart move tricking the witch into falling for you, with her wrapped around your finger you will make this whole thing easier.”

“I’m sorry Michael but I don’t know what your own about. Your father? Me being acquaintances with him. I think you got the wrong gal.”

“But you’re Y/N M/N L/N or at least that’s the name you go by on Earth.”

“That’s my name, but there’s nothing more to me.”

“Tell me what you know about yourself.”

“I don’t think that’s wise-”

“Where were you born?” Uh~ You didn’t know. “Who are your parents?”

“How am I meant to know? I’m an orphan.” But you had a letter from your mother sending you to the school, so how can you be an orphan?

“You never wondered who are? It could explain your mysterious age-defying.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I heard the doctor’s talking.”

“They think I’m looney, don’t they?”

“Incredibly.” You laughed. “But I don’t.”

“You need to go, my girlfriend will be back soon.”

“Protecting me, are you?”

“I’m saving myself the trouble of explaining why you’re here.”

“I’ll see you seen Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He said. “I’ll see you soon. Maybe you’ll have some more sense knocked into you.” The man walked out of the room. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It wasn’t long before Cordelia came back into the room placing down some snacks she snuck in for you. You thanked her, taking the fruit juice and taking a long sip. You looked over to her, when she noticed she gave you a quick smile before taking her seat.

“Are you going to fill me in on what’s been happening?” Cordelia went to brush it off, say nothing’s happened when you interjected, “You're telling me all of a sudden the warlocks decided to conspire against their own? That there wasn’t a threat to our students until this morning? At least explain to me the marking, how? Who gave you that? Was it Michael?”

“Wow~ calm down Y/N.”

“Well?”

“I was aware about the warlocks but not that they were against us, until Bubbles and Myrtle went to find out. That was long after John died. It wasn’t a threat to the girls, so we took care of it.”

That explained why Myrtle’s friend had been hanging around the school. She was a nice woman but you never understood her presence on school grounds.

“We? Who else knew?”

“Our main circle-”

“Your main circle,” you corrected.

You talked to them as much as you talked to most of the girls. You got along with them, but you wouldn’t classify them as your close circle, they tended to leave you out as of late due to you not knowing all this. You spoke to the teachers in the morning before classes and to make sure you aren’t reteaching the girls spells. The others were more random when you interacted with them, not having much free time due to the increased amount of work from the other staff going on council meetings. You spoke to Coco the most as she was a student in your classes. You spent any free time you had sitting outside and smoking, a habit that Cordelia being to busy to release you did. You learned how to not reek of smoke, managing to control the air around you so the students don’t have to breath it in. Mints and brushing your teeth covered the smell on your breath for the most part.

Cordelia never thought that you might have been pushing you away when she hadn’t told you what’s been happening. You tended to be too busy with work whenever they had any sort of meeting about these that you had been invited to, such as the dinner to celebrate Mallory being the next supreme. So busy that she didn’t even offer it- or tell you.

“Good to see I’m not a part of that-”

“No. Of course you are sweetheart, I- I was-” Too scared.

“What about that Michael Langdon? What’s his deal?”

“The warlocks thought him to be the next supreme.”

“The alpha. But you don’t believe that right, you’d have to be fading if that were the case.”

“I think it’s Mallory.”

“Wait? You think? Mallory? You're not saying-”

“I’m fading Y/N/N.” You shook your head, denying the information. You muttered out no, repeating it, praying that it would someone reverse what she said. She’s joking, she had to be. “I’m weak. I can feel my power slipping away. That’s why I have the markings-”

“Those aren’t from you fading Delia. There from prolonged exposure to a heavenly creature. I found it in one of my books while you were out. It might be from Michael, right?”

“Wouldn’t all the warlocks have it as well? Or Zoe and Myrtle? They’ve been around the boy as much as I have. I’m not cancelling it out Y/N, but it’s not likely, unless it’s affecting me quicker because I am weaker-”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s true. You wanted to know what was going on behind the scenes, you should have known it wasn’t going to be pretty.”

“No! You can’t die! I need you!”

“Y/N” She warned.

“NO!” The light fixtures exploded, all the machines you were attached to along with anything in your vicinity. Sparks of electricity shot out in all directions. “You will not leave me!” you cried. The hospital staff rushed around, yelling at each other about a power outage in the hospital. “I’ll figure something out. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You’ll have the girls, the school-”

“But they're not you.”

“Y/N, calm down.”

“Calm down? You got to be fucking kidding me, right?”

“We’re not going to do this now.”

“Just go, the school needs you more than I do right now.”

“Y/N-” Cordelia was cut off by her phone ringing. It was Zoe. She quickly answered it, “Zoe this is not a good time.” Cordelia listened to her friend explain why she called. “The power’s out?” Cordelia looked over to you, you paid her no mind. “Did you try the power box…The neighbours powers out too?... Okay hand some candles out to the girls and I’ll find out what’s going on… Yes we have candles other than the ritual ones, there in the garage- I’ll get back as fast as I can. Make sure the younger girls are calm. Bye.” She hung up the phone. How did you know that they would need her? You managed to not only knock out the hospital's power but the whole neighbourhood.

Back at school, you were known for being a book nerd. Having only mastered telekinesis and had been rumoured to have done Descensum (which you’d neither confirmed nor denied), you’d made up for it in your vast knowledge of the magical world. Your inability to perform most magic was what drew Cordelia to you originally. You were the outcasts, but you found a home there. In the beginning of your friendship you were made fun of by your peers, but you managed to befriend them by teaching them how to improve. Your magic had developed since you left but this was the next level for you. It scared her.

“How did you know-”

“The traffic lights are probably out, so drive safely -or better walk.”

You wouldn’t talk any more to her after the last comment.

When back at the school, Cordelia pulled out the candles from their hideaway in the garage. She gathered a group of girls to hand them out or place them in highly populated rooms. Zoe told her that she didn’t need to head back, that being there for you was more important than a power outage at the school.

“The school is more at risk with the power outage.” Cordelia handed Zoe a couple candles. “We had a fight.”

“Oh~ Did you tell her-”

“Everything.”

“How did she- well she didn’t take it well that was a stupid question.”

“She was fine until I brought up Mallory being-” she was wary of saying it aloud with the other students about. Zoe knew what she meant. “I knew she wasn’t going to take it well. I underestimated her power.”

“Her power?”

“The outage. It happened at the same.”

“It could be a coincidence.”

“The light in the room exploded.”

“And she couldn’t do that before?”

“I didn’t think so. I’ve only seen her use telekinesis and she mentioned transmutation,” Cordelia said. “I haven’t been paying her as much mind as I should be. I’ve been so caught up with the while Michael thing.”

“All I can say is ask around to see what people have seen her do to get a rough idea of what she’s capable of if it concerns you.”

“It’s not the power that concerns me-”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“It’s the sudden development of it…” Cordelia continued to tell her about the possibility of there being more than one powerful witch in the school that wasn’t Cordelia. That she had spoken to a powerful spirit (she left the rest of the details out of the story) and they mentioned that there could be a spiritual being among them. “If there is one, I don’t know what to do?” Peoples recebt comments have been making her believe the idea more every day.

“You think it is Y/N?”

Your comment today about her markings confirmed it in her head. All the placement of markings were only places you have come into close contact with. The only thing she couldn’t explain away was how it started before you showed up. Was it a long process or was it someone else and she’s using your strange genetics as an excuse?

“I only have two ideas and we still need a supreme.” Her other idea was Mallory but the supreme had to be younger than her. For all she knew, there could have been a third person. “You can’t tell either of them.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Cordelia heeded Zoe’s advice and asked about to see what people had seen you done to get a grasp on your magic level.

“I was going to ask her for help with a spell when I saw her reach into a mirror and pull out something. I didn’t know that was possible. Don’t tell her, she didn’t see that I saw.” One of your students told the blonde. Scrying and Conjuration. The abilities to see things such as messages, visions, and prophecies on a reflective surface and conjure objects and beings from nothing or another location.

“I don’t know, telekinesis,” a student unenthused by Cordelia's question droned on, “She always knows the right page in a book. That’s gotta involve Divination or some shit.”

“She smokes a lot and I’ve never seen her with a lighter,” a younger student said.

A lot has happened since she had been gone.

#cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years ago

Text

Frankenstein: Genre and Themes

It doesn’t seem possible that Frankenstein can be sorted into any genre except horror. A monster on a killing spree, a mad scientist in his lab, spooky shadows and an opening in a graveyard? It can’t be anything but horror, can it?

Turns out, it can.

Like we’ve discussed before, every story ever created, no matter how simple or complicated, has to fall into at least one genre. Genre is the sum of similarly themed parts that come together to give a style and theme to a story, a form of shorthand to give the audience an idea as to what kind of story they are about to see. And in almost every case, it’s never as simple as it seems.

Characters, stories, settings, and even themes often correspond to different genres As a result, it’s extremely useful as viewers to examine the categorization of films, as it not only sets up our own expectations for individual stories, it also helps us expand the boundaries of genres as their limits are tested.

Which is why Frankenstein is a bit of an odd duck.

I’ll show you what I mean.

Today, we’re going to be looking at the characteristics of the story of Frankenstein to determine what genres it is, what genres it is not, and the whys and wherefores behind them. Let’s take a look. Spoilers below!

An easy way to figure out the genre of any given film is to take a look at the setting of a story. Movies set in outer space tend to be blanketed in the genre of science fiction. Movies set in medieval times are often considered fantasy. Movies set in creepy castles or spooky swamps tend to be considered horror.

Which would seem to be the case with Frankenstein.

It seems obvious. Frankenstein, along with Dracula, The Wolf Man, The Invisible Man, and The Creature from the Black Lagoon created and codified the film genre of ‘classic horror’. These were the templates from which all future monsters would spring, werewolves, vampires, zombies and fish-creatures alike.

The spooky, Gothic shadows and creepy angles, the mad-scientist lab, the scenes in the graveyard, skeletons at the fringes of shots, and of course, the monster himself, would seem to speak to an incredibly obvious horror leaning. In fact, the story’s visual language was based on German Expressionism, which had been used in films like Nosferatu, a bonafide silent horror classic.

But…aren’t horror movies supposed to be scary?

There are no jump-scares in Frankenstein. Characters do not die in horrifying ways. They aren’t stalked, nor are they picked off in a way that’s traditional of horror films, and of the three characters who actually die, two were killed in what could be argued as self-defense by the monster.

Weirdest of all, except for possibly the initial scene of his creation, up until he breaks into Elizabeth’s room, the monster is not set up as being ‘scary’. He’s set up as being sympathetic.

From the first real scene we have of the monster, where he’s lifting his hands in fascination towards light and then cowering from Fritz’s brutality, this is a creature that the audience finds themselves sorry for. This is not typical of movie monsters. There was no pity for Dracula, no concern for The Invisible Man or The Mummy. They were truly monsters, who knew what they were doing.

The Frankenstein monster doesn’t. For a long time, the monster reacts, rather than acts. With that knowledge…he doesn’t really come out of this, at least, the first half, looking like a monster. He’s a scared creature, mistreated into becoming a twisted version of what he could have been, a blank template upon which cruelty has been imprinted.

After the change has occurred, after the monster turns into an active character and goes after Elizabeth and attacks Henry, after so much time of the audience’s built sympathy for this creature, then we feel scared of him. We realize that he is an incredibly threatening figure, that he can be dangerous, but we never truly let go of that sympathy. At the end of the film, we don’t necessarily feel victorious that he is trapped, burning to death in that mill. We feel sorry. As much of a threat as the monster became, he didn’t start out that way. It didn’t have to end like that. But it did.

Hence my case for a rather unconventional idea.

I hypothesize that Frankenstein is a tragedy.

Like I’ve said before, this is a sad story, and I think it was that way by design. I subscribe to the theory that you can best tell the genre of a film based on what kind of characters are in it, and that works especially well for Frankenstein.

You see, as I’ve said before, there is no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ side in this film. The monster is framed as both victim and threat.

And so is Henry Frankenstein.

As an audience, we are not encouraged to wholly dislike either character. (In fact, the only character I believe we are meant to truly hate and fear is Fritz, a character who manipulates his power to inflict cruelty on the monster.) We recognize Henry’s mistakes, we realize that he’s not making the best decisions and we want him to perhaps not reanimate the dead, or maybe at least once he does, treat his new undead son with some respect, but we don’t completely hate him, even as we accept that this whole thing is basically his fault.

Henry is framed as sympathetic. We understand why he feels the way he does, even if we don’t agree with it, and we can figure out why he’s acting the way he is. He has his redeeming moments: his relationship with Elizabeth, once he stops digging up graves is genuine, and the fact that he doesn’t want the creature destroyed could point to a sign of his caring about his creation, even if he sucks at showing it. Even if we don’t relate to Henry, exactly, we understand him, and we don’t necessarily want him to die. He’s a tragic character, a figurative Icarus who aimed too highly for a mortal.

Besides, he was so delightful in that whole ‘raising the dead’ scene. I mean, that’s movie history, right there.

As for the monster?

The monster is actually the most sympathetic character in the entire cast. (Except for maybe Elizabeth.) We get to see his entire lifespan, his birth, life, and death, (Until the sequel) and it’s not a pretty picture. He’s hurt, frightened, and alone, with no-one willing to actually help him function as a being, as a person, instead of as a successful scientific experiment. Henry doesn’t seem to know what to do with him once he proved that he could create life, and as a result, the monster is left alone, with no education in how the world works. He has to figure it out on his own, and the makeshift teachers don’t really help much, either. Fritz abuses him, Dr. Waldman tries to dissect him, and Henry doesn’t pay him much mind after showing him light. Even when the monster meets Maria, he doesn’t know enough about the world to understand that his actions would kill her.

Even further supporting my theory is the ending.

The end of the story, after Henry chases his creation down and faces off with him in the mill, eventually struggling and falling while the villagers burn the mill down, is not played as a victorious climax. This is not the end of a good vs. evil struggle, there is no breath of relief that an audience feels after the defeat of Dracula, Michael Myers, or Freddy Krueger, or even Norman Bates. The ending is solemn, if not sorrowful, as the audience is left with the death of a creature who had experienced misery for the few days that he had lived.

Both protagonist and antagonist share in what is, quite simply, a tragic ending. Henry isn’t even the one to right his own wrong. The monster is slaughtered by an angry mob. Henry never reconciles his mistake. People have died, senselessly, and it could have been avoided, and not in the no-don’t-split-up-you-idiots-there’s-a-killer-in-the-woods way.

The audience is not meant to feel happy or triumphant at the end of this film, in my opinion. In my opinion, we are to mourn both Henry’s arrogance, and the monster’s demise, representative of a life wasted.

Does this mean that Frankenstein is not a horror film? Absolutely not.

Frankenstein codified almost everything we know about classic horror to this day, potentially inspiring things like the zombie horror-genre and influencing Gothic horror in general. None of this to say is that Frankenstein is not meant to be a scary movie, because, in 1931, it certainly was. People were scared, and it was definitely the filmmakers goal to do so in some scenes. The scene where the monster stalks Elizabeth in her room is definitely scary, and the dark lighting adds to the unsettling look and feel of the entire film. The scene where Frankenstein creates the monster remains a staple of best horror scenes, and has influenced countless films since then.

No, Frankenstein is definitely a horror film, make no mistake about that. It’s delightfully scary, full of creepy visuals, unsettling imagery, and a genuinely frightening core story idea: humanity being just capable enough to create life, but not capable enough to see it through competently.

But, horror is not the only genre that Frankenstein demonstrates.

Mary Shelley’s original Frankenstein novel, despite being an excellent example of horror fiction, is also considered the first example of science fiction. If you’ve been following our ‘Legacy of Science Fiction’ series, you’ve probably noticed a few of the trends that tend to go along with science fiction.

A story doesn’t need to be set in the future for it to be a science-fiction story, nor does it have to have aliens or space-ships. All it has to do is be about something just beyond our current understanding, founded in science of a sort. With that understanding, it’s easy to see how Frankenstein fits that bill.

The very creation of the monster himself is the codifier of science-fiction. Although it’s different in the original novel, the fact is, the idea of a man creating life that turns into a monster is an idea thoroughly grounded in the realm of science-fiction, a story concept rooted in the idea of science. It’s also an example of speculative fiction: bringing the audience to contend with questions such as nature vs. nurture, man’s place in creation, and the dangers of not being aware of the limits of common sense and the laws of nature.

Mary Shelley’s original novel came at a time when technology was changing much of the landscape of the world as they knew it, and it makes sense that in her story, this strange, unnatural technology would create a monster to be feared and pitied. In Frankenstein, the methods of this new generation of scientists, presenting seemingly no limits, is as horrific as the monster itself, the power that mankind can access without necessarily the wisdom to do so.

To quote Jurassic Park, the basic premise of the horror and science-fiction of this story is:

“Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

And in the end, much like Jurassic Park, it works out terribly.

Like we’ve discussed in the ‘Legacy of Science Fiction’ series, Frankenstein practically invented the science-fiction theme of humanity’s creations inevitably leading to our own destruction, whether directly or indirectly. In the case of Frankenstein, it’s pretty direct. Henry’s creation turns on him, and although Henry survives, (and the monster seemingly does not) the premise is still there as a science-fiction device, twisted into a bit of a horror spin. The idea of human beings creating the things that will destroy them is legitimately frightening, especially when it’s played up as being ‘monstrous’.

But there’s a little more to Frankenstein than a tragic horror/sci-fi story. It’s also a drama.

A drama film is a serious story, one that presents us with situations that show us realistic characters struggling with themselves, others, or sometimes, nature itself. Drama usually doesn’t mix with horror, or science fiction for that matter, but it does here.

As I mentioned earlier, not only do we understand Henry and get where he’s coming from, we experience the exact same thing for the monster, if not more so. Unlike many examples of horror films, we’re half on the side of the creature, and get to know him as a character, rather than just a monster.

The conflict is simple, and fairly obvious. Henry’s created this being, and due to his own lack of care, is forced to ‘fix’ his mistake and go up against the monster himself. While the idea of the creation of life, and the character of the monster isn’t ‘realistic’ in traditional terms, the character is understandable and sympathetic to the audience. We understand him, and the conflict is made far more personal than it would be in a traditional ‘kill-em-all’ horror film.

In the end, that’s what sets Frankenstein apart.

Sure, the film is an excellent horror and science fiction film, but it’s not the scares or the sci-fi that we remember the most about this movie. It’s the heart of it, the sad, personal stakes of the movie that sticks with us as an audience, and a culture. There hasn’t really been another ‘Frankenstein’ type film, asking you to consider, not in a high-browed way, but in a simple, emotional way: who is the monster, and who is the man?

We don’t necessarily remember the ‘kills’ of this film. Maybe we forget things like Henry’s wedding, or the scenes with his father, but we do remember the monster lifting his hands up to try to touch the light, his dynamic creation, and the ending, far from a happy one.

We remember Frankenstein because, not only is it a good horror film, it’s also a good story that, unlike a lot of horror films, forces us to care, not only about the men, but the monsters as well. As long as we can still feel emotion for the ‘Other’, there will always be a place for Frankenstein, even almost ninety years later.

Thank you all so much for reading! Stay tuned for next time, when we’ll be discussing the characters of Frankenstein. I hope to see you all in the next article.

#Film #Movies #Frankenstein #Frankenstein 1931 #1931 #30s #Drama #Science Fiction #Sci-Fi #Horror #PG #Boris Karloff #Colin Clive #Mae Clarke #Dwight Frye #Edward Van Sloan #James Whale

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adobe-outdesign · 5 years ago

Photo

(High-res version here.)

Some concept art for my FFPS bad end AU, wherein Michael gets taken by Scraptrap and transferred into a robotic body.

Background info:

Because Michael can’t die, I like the idea of different AUs spawning from different animatronics getting into the office.

When William gets into the office, he first tries to convince Michael to come back to the family, and says he can give him a new body as his current one is quickly rotting away.

He offers because 1) it would make it much easier to control Michael that way, 2) he’s curious if what he’s thinking would even work, and 3) there’s a teeny tiny part of him that does genuinely care about him and would like to help him.

Michael still hates his father, but he’s also extremely tired and scared of what will happen if he decays completely, and given his father’s years of manipulation and abuse it’s pretty easy for him to agree.

William says that first Michael needs to come to the dining room with him. He wants his help to kill the kids (that aren’t actually there) in order to prove his loyalty, seeing as Michael’s done nothing but try to kill him so far.

Even though the kids aren’t actually real, Michael is repulsed and remembers how awful his father is, refusing.

Scrap Baby shows up and Scraptrap has Michael convince her that he is actually her father. William leaves to go kill the kids and leaves Baby with Michael.

Baby uses her claw to cut the back of Michael’s legs, which prevents him from being able to walk.

Molten Freddy shows up, wanting to take Michael back as their suit. Baby makes short work of them.

While Scraptrap quickly found out that there were no children, he found Henry and killed him instead. Lefty is preoccupied with her father and can’t attack William right now thanks to the suit, so he takes this opportunity to leave, taking Michael and Molten Freddy’s remains (good source of remnant) with him. Baby follows willingly.

They retreat back to CBEAR, which was never cleared out after closing. Michael is placed into a locked room, though some items from his house, like his TV and some magazines, are added later so he can keep himself amused.

Michael can’t stand anymore and therefore can’t escape, so he agrees to the transfer, figuring he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

Transfer

William makes a brand-new robot for Michael to possess.

The transfer works similar to what William was doing in TFC - heat a surface with Michael on it, heat the robot, then extract the remnant (and some blood) from Michael with a syringe and place it into the robot.

MIchael is bonded to the remnant and souls follow pain, so his consciousness slowly transfers into the new body. William has to do it little by little as he’s not sure how much Michael can handle.

Baby assists him with the procedure at times as well.

Michael gradually gains control over the robot - first being able to see out of its eyes, then speak from it, then being able to control some of its movements, etc.

The process of artificially splitting a soul like this is extremely painful for Michael (especially due the burns sustained during the process), and being able to feel two pairs of senses at once is overwhelming. He kind of starts to loose his mind after a while

As Michael starts to gain finer control, he begins to leave the room and explore the facility. William cane easily control the robotic body, so he allows it.

Michael can’t stray too far from his old body at this point as he’ll become disoriented and loose control.

After the transfer’s complete, William keeps the remains of his old body in a freezer (there’s still some usable remnant in it). He says that Michael shouldn’t be able to feel anything from that body anymore, but Michael’s swears he can still feel the pain from it.

Robot Info

It has no facial features, just a blank plastic mold with some loose impressions of a face.

Michael was trained to suppress his emotions by his father, so an emotionless mask fits him well.

Because the robot was built to be possessed, it didn’t need to have eyes or a voice box because Michael will be able to see and speak regardless.

It was never meant to be seen by an audience, so there’s no need for emotion like there was for the SL animatronics.

Most of the body is an endo, but there are plastic plates over the face, neck, hands, and feet, which provides protection for the more delicate areas of the body

Body is lined with coils that can be heated up to the exact temperature remnant is most effective at.

Small compartment at the back of the head allows remnant to be injected into it directly.

While William didn’t give it much AI as Michael would be controlling it, he did program it to be extremely obedient to him - as Michael’s consciousness fuses with it it becomes harder and harder for Michael to resist its programming

Has a built-in shock system that can be activated remotely via button - if Michael tries anything William doesn’t like, he can use that to deter him

System can also be shut down remotely if needed

Built to kill - the palm of his right hand emits chloroform, and the fingers of the left hand conceal needles that can inject poison. A joint at his left wrist conceals a knife blade.

Has the same chip technology present in the Twisted animatronics in TTO - most people tend to see him as looking human-ish/similar to the way he looked when he was alive when it’s active, making it easy for him to get close to unsuspecting targets.

William finally has a son he can be proud of.

#five nights at freddys #fnaf #freddy fazbear's pizzeria simulator #michael afton #william afton #scraptrap #scrap baby #AUs #outdesign posts things #outdesign attempts to art #outdesign has headcanons #and then you have the molten freddy and lefty endings #which are basically 'michael gets fucked but henry saves him and they have some good father son bonding time before everything burns'

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jaspitch · 4 years ago

Text

Five Nightguards At Freddys

Night 1- Storm's Archives

Somehow she knew she had to do it. Make it through the night running around the pizzeria, nobody with her, without any power, or a damn flashlight. Storm had never wanted to work at this shitty pizzeria. But oh no, "We gotta stay to keep Michael safe!" Since when had September ever actually cared about Mike anyways?!

So after surviving only three and a half hours on limited power because the generator wasn't worth crap, Storm found herself in complete darkness. When Freddy had started thumping his way towards the office, Storm knew she couldn't just die like this. So, what's the next best thing? Yep, running into party room four and hiding under a table. It was easy, especially considering she was a short stack, 5'4 to be exact.

However, her special uniform seemed to illuminate her. The jacket, which was oversized and a dark blue due to her ranked status by Henry (Executive manager's first aid), had kept her warm, sure. However, because of her small frame, it would hang right before her knees. Which not only meant it caught on things when she moved, but tripped her up, and the blue was somehow seeable in the pitch dark.

Longing for the original, but less warm, baby blue and gray uniform, seemed stupid. And it would be, if Freddy wasn't currently staring at her, his hand having moved the tablecloth up, and Storm trying her best to untangle the end of her jacket from some ribbons that had been swept under the table. As the brown bear reached over, Storm finally untangled the damn sweater and bolted from underneath the table, running for the entrance to the party room.

Man, weren’t Wednesdays just the best? She kept running down the hallway, hearing the metal of most likely Freddy follow her at a decently slow pace. She turned down another hallway, just to be met with a dead end: the janitor’s closet. Now sweating buckets, Storm started to frantically look around. Something caught her eye in the corner. Looking to it with her dark blue eyes, a small ray of hope blossomed in her chest. It was, by far, the most beautiful thing to be stowed upon her. A vent. A vent that could hold someone at least 6′6 with a weight of 350 lbs. Thank the Lord.

When her hand touched the metal, she drew it back. It was fucking burning hot! The heater was supposed to be off after hours! Her only guess was that Fritz left it on again. Regardless, Storm sucked in a deep breath, and then pulled on the metal, which surprisingly gave in and came off. Dropping the damned hatch, Storm jumped a bit and climbed into the large vent. At first, she felt as if she were burning alive, but that almost went away within ten seconds. Almsot as if on que, Freddy passed by, his eyes glowing a light white. They were pupil sized and had black floating around them. Since when had his eyes not been blue? That just fueled the thought of the pizzeria being haunted.

Eventually the mascot walked away, creaking and groaning as he did so. Sighing, she squinted at her black watch, which lit up with a green light when she tapped it twice. The bright light dialated her pupils and aggrivated her eyes, but she got over it. The time was 4:38. Great, it’s only been what, an hour or so? Staying in the vent wasn’t possible, along with her body heat and extra warm uniform, the heater was starting to overheat the nineteen year old. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Storm jumped out and placed the vent hatch back on. That, of course, took a good ten minutes because the thing kept turning sideways and not sitting straight.

Finally free from her heated domain, Storm went flying towards the office to try and find the flashlight she had dropped when Freddy had entered the room. After searching for a few minutes, she found the flashlight, noticing the glass had a small crack in it. Whatever, Henry could fix that after he found her dismembered body inside one of the mascot suits. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she didn’t see sunlight. Deciding that staying in the room would be smart, Storm sat under the table, dusting a few cobwebs from her jacket as she glanced from under her hiding spot. This place was the abolute worst, especilly in the dark. Fuck, forget the creepy atmosphere when the lights were on.

With plenty of time to think, Storm started to think of the people in her life. Tall, slender, September Charles. He was the best friend a person could ask for. Despite being self-centered and a total introvert, he did anything Storm asked him to do. Play video games all day despite both of them having work? Sure. Going to a party with only druggies, alchoholics, and underage kids? Yep, perfect. Aside from that, he was especially handsome. That thought made a light blush dust Storm’s cheeks. September had somewhat messy, yet silky, shoulder length ginger-brown hair and stunning bright orangish-brownish eyes. He had thin-framed green glasses that sat beautifully on his lightly tanned face. Everything about him was amazing.

Who else was there to think about? Mike, alright, her mind flew to Mike. He was her other best friend, who by the way, was in some sort of rivalry with September. Beautiful black hair that was shoulder length, matching his bright blue eyes. He was more of an outrovert, but still kept to himself because of how judgemental people were. Storm remembered the first time she saw him at college- struggling with a math course in the multipurpose room. She had been reading a baking guide for lullaberry pie when she had noticed the taller male run a hand through his silky black hair in frustration. Scooting closer, she noted the advanced algebra course he was taking. Which happened to be the same one she had taken last year. “Hey, need some help?” Storm finally asked, making the blue-eyed male look up. “What?”

“Do you need some help? I’d be happy to, that math course is a bit difficult, huh?” Although Mike had been hesitant at first, he eventually got used to her helping him every Monday and Friday. So when she had graduated after taking a one year Doctorate course, Mike had been left alone. That is, until he got her number and address and started doing zoom calls. Of course they sometimes showed up at each others places. Storm had been laughing her ass off when Mike stepped into her large house, his eyes had widened and jaw dropped. Due to her mother being insanely wealthy (and also gone all the time after divorcing Storm’s dad), she had left all of her assets to her after dying.

It was almost as funny when September and Mike had met. While chilling at a caffe, Mike walked in, catching the eyes of Storm. September noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking in his deep, monotone voice, “You know this guy?” She nodded and got up, skipping over to him. After inviting him to her table and paying for his carmel macchiato (He complained about her paying but she didn’t care), they both sat down. A flash of recognition crossed both men’s faces before they both gave eachother a glare. She found out that day that September had been one of the people who had completely ignored Mike all while making him look bad. They had both been in the library when they met, standing in line to check out science books. When somebody who had been goofing around behind Mike pushed him, he knocked into the brunette (who was part of the ‘popular clique’) and pushed the books out of his hands.

Turning around with a fierce glare, September recognised Mike from his science and law classes, then picked up his books, looked back to the black haired male and said, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, Retard? I don’t want to contract your disease. “ After that, whenever Mike tried to say anything, even ‘sorry’, September would only say one word. “Disease.” That eventually went away when they were forced to get along. Didn’t mean when she wasn’t around that they wouldn’t be at eachothers’ throats.

A creak forced Storm from her thoughts, making her look up. Two orange three-toed feet were walking past, the weird ‘ahHaRgHhA’ sound coming from withing the chiken’s beak. She no doubtly had her head to the side, twitching and spazzing out. Just as she thought her luck could get no worse, the bell rang and the lights flickered on. Storm, now sick and tired of this shit, scrambled from her hiding place, flipped off Chica, and ran towards the doors. William with his beautiful red bow that held his equally gorgeous purple hair was just unlcking the door as Storm rushed by. “Fucking fix this,” is all she said before handing the flashlight over.

After a one hour drive to her property in a brand new red comaro (Yeah, she’s rich and is only working for fun, duh. Jk, she’s just working there until Mike quits, which means she and September can quit, and then move onto software design.), the small female ran into her house, changed into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt, then fell into her silky soft bedsheets. As soon as her head hit the pillows, she fell asleep, snuggly and warm.

Storm’s Archive ends here.

#FNAF Archives1

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fairyhaven13 · 5 years ago

Photo

Here’s the next character profile for my FNAF Silent Hill AU described here. This one is for Michael Afton, with both his “human” version (left) and what Silent Hill turned his remnant into (right.) The left one is based on the Pizza Simulator ads with the guy in the purple suit, because I like to headcanon that Henry forced Michael to make those ads while he grinned like he was dying inside. Which I guess he was.

Like before, here’s the short summary: He let Millie work at the Simulator diner, was very weirded out by her attitude towards everything, died when the diner burned, woke up in Silent Hill, and now is trying to keep it together while he herds the crazy morons around to catch his father and Vanny. The longer summary is under the cut.

Michael and Henry worked in tandem to set up the diner in order to catch the last vestiges of William and his creations. They had it all planned out, and then Millie showed up, calling herself Ophelia. At first, they thought she was a media spy, or a law enforcement agent, or a conspiracy vlogger--any number of meddling could ruin the plan, and they tried to make her leave. When she told them her family history, they both sympathized. They’d both lost family members to the Afton madness, and every one of their family members was now one of the robots they were trying to capture.

Michael didn’t want Lia to end up like him, and still wanted her to leave. But, Henry was the boss, and Henry was more tired and apathetic with age; he wanted all the help they could get, and if the kid wanted to get herself killed to stop William, it was no hair off his chest. Michael didn’t like it, but had to listen.

He really didn’t like it when she started treating the robots like people. He warned her, he held her back, he even tried barring her from the security room completely. But, Helpy liked that she saw the others as more than just monsters, and helped her get around him. Michael kept coming into work to find one of the robots moved around or adjusted or otherwise doing something NOT IN THE PLAN and if he still had a beating heart, he would have definitely had a heart attack.

First she pried Puppet out of Lefty and put her in the Security Puppet box with a funny hat, and let her interact with the public! Michael wanted to put a stop to that, but Henry saw the ghost of his daughter being treated with kindness and let it go. Then Lia kept using Helpy and the audio lure to talk to Molten Freddy, like she knew him, like they were buddies, and what was up with that? He’d been burned before, when his sister tricked him into getting scooped, and he tried, he tried to warn Lia, but she just kept saying she was being careful, and Helpy kept helping her, and Henry didn’t care.

When Baby arrives, Michael is not happy about it, and tries harder than ever to keep Lia away. This time, she listens a little better, although she still uses the lure to have conversations with his robo-sister and that’s so stupid, it’s stupid, isn’t it? The way she keeps treating the monsters like people, like victims? The children inside were victims, but they weren’t the children, they were monsters. Only Springtrap is treated like a monster by Lia, but this is because the other robots have told her about what William did to them.

Then, then, then. She won’t leave. It’s the night of the explosion and she won’t go, she just keeps saying that she can’t leave her friends to die alone, and she’s including him in that, like he’s a friend, and then... and then she’s dead. They’re all dead.

And then they’re not.

Silent Hill is something of an awakening for him. They’re not in the real world anymore, they’re in another dimension. All of the Fazbear robots are, all of the monsters and the victims. There’s no more dodging the subject or avoiding the topic. There’s nothing left for him to do, to prove himself, to save the robots, to stop his father.

He really, really doesn’t want Lia to help Helpy and Funny save the other Funtimes, because he remembers being scooped. Now that he’s a purple ghoul, it’s hard not to. But, she does anyways, she always does. And, then she just kind of absorbs Ballora, and Helpy becomes Honey, and Looksy is revived, and Michael is at a loss. He goes with them through Lia’s memories and is just as shocked to see that Funny is Lia’s long-lost brother, and when they immediately try to become Best Buddy Siblings, it hurts.

Baby never did that. Baby knew that they were related, knew him, and still scooped him. She never said sorry, she never tried to be better, she never did what Funny did. All of Michael’s family is gone, and Lia has hers now, and it hurts. She tries to encourage Baby to be better, but she’s not really interested. However, Baby isn’t trying to kill any of them, which is... progress? He’s never actually held a conversation with her before, and he can now.

William’s disappearance revives him a bit. He has to stop his father, that’s something he knows how to do, knows how to focus on. Until he gets to where Vanny left Springtrap’s remnant behind, when she stole William’s body and left. All they find is Golden Freddy--his Cassie, his old friend--keeping William trapped in a pocket dimension of revenge (Ultimate Custom Night.) And William absolutely deserves it, Michael knows this better than anyone. But, Vanny is now out there, in the world, ready to restart all the torture and death.

For once, for once, Michael has to admit that Lia was right. The children are what’s important, their lives are more important than revenge. And so, he convinces Cassie to let go of being Golden Freddy, and let go of William, so that they can go after Vanny and save the world. He and Cassie know each other’s pain, and this ends up being closure for both of them. He still doesn’t love his father, but the hate doesn’t burn so bad, doesn’t make him sick inside. They tether William’s remnant to Plushtrap as Glitchtrap, and with the tether, they’re connected to his body and Vanny’s life.

Puppet, being the only sane and sensible one on the entire team, helps him focus on what they need to do to stop Vanny. Michael doesn’t trust himself not to rip Plushtrap apart, so he gives the toy to Lia and puts her in charge of Glitchtrap. They turn that section of Silent Hill in to their HQ, and start learning how to use Silent Hill’s connections to remnant to their advantage, and this is where FNAF Help Wanted and the upcoming games come in.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #micheal afton #au #silent hill #pizzeria simulator #he is sad and in pain #but with lia and the others' help #he is slowly getting better #and ironically #it's only when Silent Hill has turned him #completely zombified #that he starts feeling alive again

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snazzamazing · 6 years ago

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Stupid random theories, headcanons, and unpopular opinions of mine

Btw, these are all long so sit tight

My mangle theory :

I cant be the only one here who thinks that mangle was taken apart by little kids. It wouldn't make sense that little toddlers would be strong enough to pull apart a metal robot. That's because the kids didnt break her, william did. Mangle seems like he was an inspiration from funtime foxy because sister location happened before AND a lot of times, "toy foxy" is often referred to "funtime foxy". Due to this inspiration, mangle had the ability to record voices and things just like funtime foxy. Why am I pointing this out? Well, why would mangle randomly have static noises and a broken radio sound? It's her recorder, it's broken. He recorded many things and then recorded something that someone didnt want anyone to find out about. That someone would be William afton. William is always suspicious and doing evil things.Let's say that, oh idk, maybe William murdered someone, some person called the cops on him, (which explains the police messages n stuff in the radio) William killed that person and his the evidence of the murders. At least that's what he thought. Mangle was somehow recording the whole thing. William had no other choice but to take her apart and destroy him. But then William thought that it would to suspicious to have mangle be randomly broken the next day and so he fixed mangle up in way where it looks like shes fixed, but one tug hes broken and the kids are there to blame for. All of this might be a stretch I know, but apparently in one of the fnaf 2 minigames where theres a mangle Sprite, in the files or sources codes or WHATEVER IDK, there's a hidden message that says "he was here" or something like that. THAT CAN SUPPORT THIS THEORY errr headcanons? Idk I should go sleep lol

Micheal headcanon:

I always wanted to believe that Micheal was the older brother/Bully and that the bite victim was a different character. Why? Because I want more..character for Micheal. He went to sister location because he wants his torn apart family to be back together. He went to save Elizabeth and he never forgave himself for being the one to 'kill' his brother and all that failed. I wanted Michaels story to be exciting and emotional because of his past and the whole family thing

I also always liked to think that Micheal started working out to gain some strength before becoming a technician because he knows that the robots are strong and dangerous. That way things can be more action packed with Michael punching through pipes and walls, and holding back animatronics trying to grab him, and just...cool stuff

Fnaf headcanons:

Freddy has a nice deep voice and that's his real voice. When it comes to preforming during the day, he talks in his "family friendly" voice which is all goofy and fun (kinda like Patrick star's voice) The animatronics are a lot different on stage. It's as if they play as characters and they change their voices sometimes (like Freddy). Chica acts like this ditzy cute country gal, Bonnie is a laid back chill bon, foxy is just more ...pirate, and Freddy is a fun loving silly lead singer

Nightmarriones pupils change shape to Express his emotions. (Sad=tear drop pupils, sick=swirly pupils, angry=skull or fire pupils)

Lefty has his own voice instead of a whispery girly voice because he is his own character. He may look like the rockstars but he was made differently. The rockstars were built by some factory or company and they have advanced technology which gives em the ability to have emotions, personalities and to do tricks. Meanwhile lefty was built by henry in a shed or something. Henry only focused on programming him to find charlie and he had to make lefty look like the rockstars to blend in and not be suspicious. Other than that, lefty was a total rush job. Henry only wanted Charlie therefore, Henry didn't care to give lefty a personality, emotions, an EYE, or stablness.

In the afton family, the mother is sweet, kind, caring, and over protective while william is outgoing, silly, and isnt afraid to do anything (before he went insane). Usually kids have similar personalities to their parents soooo I like to think that Micheal is more like his mom but looks like his dad and that Elizabeth looks like her mom but acts like her dad. Why? Because I always saw Michael as a hero, he cares for others and he wants to save his family. He is sweet and protective like his mom. Elizabeth is rebellious and sassy. In the sister location mini cutscene with William and Elizabeth, she disobeys william to see baby and that's a rebellious move. Elizabeth likes adventure and crazy things so she wont follow the rules any time soon.

Funtime chica does all the rockstar's make up. When months pass by, the rockstar's paint would peel or chip and so ft. Chica would repaint their lipsticks, eye shadows, cheeks, etc. And they look fresh and new afterwards

Even though puppet and Goldie (and all the other animatronics) have been through so much shiz, they still try to keep their cool and enjoy life

In the rockstar crew r. Bonnie is the creepiest. Yeah, he seems chill and is self centered, he is the only rockstar who is most likely to murder someone if he's told to do so (this isn't counting ucn where they all kill). All on Bonnie's songs are so creepy and he sings about killing you in unique ways. Stuff like making slivers (or slippers) out of you, flaying your flesh, smashing your face into concrete, ending your life, and stabbing your heart with his guitar. He's definitely into gory stuff

Springtrap has two different personalities. Most of the time he's himself, spring bonnie. A kind fun loving bun who completely changed his personality after becoming springtrap. He is know constantly scared, upset, and afraid of Williams next move. He hates being an evil monster but it's not something he can control due to William still having control over him. When the slringbonnie side of springtrap gets mad or upset that's when hes weak and William takes control and becomes the evil side of springtrap. Springtrap is very aggressive and very strong. Slringbonnie tries to fight back Williams spirit, but as time went on and when the kids got sent free, spring bonnie got lonely and gave up which let William take full control over him. Sprjngbonnie is gone, its William now (which explains scraptrap)

Idk if this is a theory or headcanon but fnaf 1 bonnie is blue. Yes, he is known to be purple and everyone says and draws him purple but he's blue. Maybe it's the certain blue color he is but due to lightning it makes him look very purple. When he's in more darker areas, bonnie is very blue but when he's in the light areas, hes purple. Let's not forget how every single version on bonnie is blue (except for extras like spring springbon and bonnet etc.) Exept for fnaf 1 bonnie. That doesn't make sense if one of the originals would be purple but all the other versions are blue. One more thing, in the silver eyes, they mention that bonnie has blue fur ;) this was a dumb rant sorry

Shadow bon is evil and can shape shift cause hes a goopy shadow boy and shadow fred is his lil assistant

After fazbears fright burned down, William got to take control over springbonnie(trap) and roamed the streets at night. He roamed dark allies and probably killed whoever slighted him. It was a long walk but he was just trying to get to his destination, fred bears diner. Because of the fires, the springtrap suit was more ruined and unsturdy and so it was time for a change. Somehow William got out of the suit but he's weak without one so he picked an old spring bonnie suit, scraptrap. (According to the fnaf minigames there are multiple spring bonnie suits so that why spring trap looks different)

I got more headcanons but this post is already to long :p

My Unpopular opinions:

Am I the only one here who's not way into the whole Michael AI theory?? Like it kinda makes sense but at the same time, making a whole new robot son with advanced technology IN THE 80s does not give the fnaf-y feel?? Ya know what I mean? Like it doesn't fit the theme? Also the ai thing is in the books and the books are a different universe from the games sooo idk why matpat still connected them?? Hsjsbsjsjsn fnaf is just waaaaay to confusing. Also please dont get mad at me for this opinion cause matpats ai thing is just a theory, its not canon

Foxy isnt super great. Dont get me wrong, I love foxy and he's an amazing character but I don't get why he got so much attention and hype

Bonnet and lolbit should just be canon already. They're not canon characters but they're included in sooo many things in fnaf so might as well make em canon

Funko needs to make a fnaf 2 figure set where you collect t.chica,t.bonnie,t.freddy, puppet, one of the withereds or shadows and you collect them all to make a mangled mangle figure. I would DIE for a fully formed noodle fox figure, how cool would that be?

Scraptrap design is perfect. I know that we all make peanut and Jimmy neutron jokes but honestly I love his sharp teach, creepy eyes, AMazInG voice, and his stabby arm. Sometimes in some angles, he can look heck a creepy

SCRAP BABY LEGITIMATELY FREAKS ME OUT SHES SCARY

butter sock

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sister location #sister location #fnaf ucn #fnaf theories #fnaf headcanon #im sooooo tired #all of these are dumb but i just wanted to get em off my chest #not art #yay

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screamingatanemptyroom · 6 years ago

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The Super Villains’ Daughter Part 4

HERE IT IS GUYS! I ENDED THE STORY!!!! The last part to the story of Erica and Henry/Jarrod. I really hope you guys like it.

For those who haven’t read the earlier parts/need to refresh:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

ERICA

“Are you still bleeding?” My mother looked down at me with a disapproving expression.

I met her gaze without expression. I was only twelve but I knew what would happen if I spoke back. Seeming satisfied with my lack of reaction she dropped a package into my lap.

Confused, I opened it with one hand, the other clutching a rag against my thigh which had been slashed open during fighting practice. I knew that direct pressure was my only chance at slowing down the bleeding.

It wasn’t like they were going to take me to a hospital.

To my surprise the package contained a few objects: antiseptic, sutures, and a small book with pictures explaining how to close wounds. I looked back up at my mother, not wanting to voice the question I wanted to ask.

“You have thirty minutes to sew up your wounds before we move on to poisons.” Her voice was flat, her eyes making it clear what would happen if I didn’t.

I looked down again, my eyes watering at the size of the needle. This was going to hurt.

“You will not receive any local anesthetics or narcotics to numb the pain. “ My mother continued, noting my less than enthusiastic reaction. “Pain leads to strength, seeking relief from pain is weakness. Remember that.”

She walked away, leaving me to stare daggers into her back.

One day.

One day I would take her down. Take them both down.

Sighing quietly to myself, I grabbed the kit, and prepared to sew on my thigh.

I woke up gasping in a strange room, my hand automatically reaching for the gun under my pillow, and meeting nothing but air. I struck out, my hand hitting a chest that was more like a brick wall. Panicked, I reared back to attack again.

“It’s okay, Erica! It’s me!” A familiar voice settled me enough to pause, to study my surroundings. We were in a large, open apartment, brightly lit. I was on a couch with someone sitting beside me, grasping my ankle.

It was Henry. I let out a small sigh of relief.

“What are you doing?” He had a jar of ointment on the table beside him, was applying it to my leg.

“You had a burn from the trap that they… from the electrified floor. The captain said you wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, so when the field doctor cleared you I brought you back to my apartment.”

He seemed uncomfortable, letting go of my leg and gently placing it back on the couch.

“I would have brought you to your place so you could be in familiar surroundings but I obviously don’t know where you live and I didn’t know what else to do…Crap.” He hit his forehead. “I’m making a mess out of this.”

“What’s in the ointment.”

“It’s nothing dangerous!” He was quick to defend himself, although I really was only asking out of curiosity rather than suspicion. “It’s a pain relieving ointment for the light burns. I didn’t want you to be hurting when you woke up!”

His open face along with his simple explanation startled me. When was the last time someone had tried to keep me from hurting, tried to take pain away instead of causing it? It didn’t take long for me to remember. It was back when we were kids and still thought we were brother and sister.

Henry always did worry whenever I got hurt.

I sat up, testing my arms and legs, mildly surprised that I felt no discomfort with the movement despite the burns from my parents’ trap.

Pain leads to strength, seeking relief from pain is weakness.

My mother’s words mocked me, but they were quickly pushed to the back of my mind with his next question.

“They said you poisoned yourself?”

I sucked in a breath, only now remembering what my parents had said before I lost consciousness.

She shouldn’t have much longer.

“They were lying right?” Henry’s face was pale, his gaze nervously looking me over as if expecting me to fall over any minute. “You aren’t dying from a poison, that was just a trick, right?”

I stared down at my hands. “What else did they tell you?”

I couldn’t remember anything after telling them I would rather die. They wouldn’t have stopped there.

“Please, Erica, please tell me they were lying.” There were tears in his eyes, but I ignored them.

“What did they want in exchange for the antidote?”

“…” His face turned blank, he avoided my gaze.

“Hen…Jarrod. What. Did. They. Want?”

A long sigh escaped him. “I wish our lives had been different.” He reached out, grabbing my unresisting hands in his own, turning them over. His thumbs rubbed across my forearms, where multiple scars from years of fighting and torture crisscrossed. “I wish I had never left. Wish I had suffered with you sometimes.”

“Jarrod…”

“Wish I had taken you with me, more.” He looked up at the ceiling, and then closed his eyes, tears escaping from the shut lids. “Wish I hadn’t been a self-centered prick who wanted to be strong before I came back. Wish I had saved you, or died trying.”

“Jarrod…”

He let go of my hands, hid his face behind his own, but tears continued to fall. “No one deserves what you’ve gone through. No one deserves to live a long happy life more than you.”

My vision blurred. Was I crying too?

“Henry…”

“You were my sister, my protector, my other half. You meant everything… still mean everything to me.” He stood up, and walked towards the door. “I won’t let you die. Not while I’m still breathing.”

I tried to call out one last time, but he was already gone.

HENRY/JARROD

I left her behind, my mind racing, feeling strangely calm despite the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm me just moments before.

I wasn’t going to fail her again.

But to pull it off, I needed a few things.

The anti-super power technology her parents wanted. A location. And to see the Captain.

First, the anti-super weapon. I sighed quietly, turning towards the Hero Assistance Unit Headquarters.

Fortunately, being a hero had its perks. I knew a guy.

“Hey Jarrod!”

Greg was practically jumping up and down with excitement, his hands clutching a black briefcase. “I’m so glad you called, I was worried after that raid I did went south that you wouldn’t want my help ever again!”

The raid? My forehead wrinkled as I tried to puzzle that out briefly, before realizing that I had given him a location of a base as part of Erica’s plot to unmask the mole. I thought we had contacted everyone else the next morning to clarify that the “raid” was off… but I guessed we missed someone.

Had he gone to a supervillain base all by himself?

Shrugging mentally, I decided not to ask further.

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Of course, Jarrod! What else is the HAU for if not to assist heroes like yourself?” His groveling set my teeth on edge, made worse by what I knew he had tried to do to Erica. Of course, the moment he had tried to touch her she had put him in the ICU.

I smiled at the thought, and Greg beamed back at me, thinking I was happy about his words.

“Here it is!” He opened up the briefcase in his hands. “The Anti-super power gun! VSU had been working on the technology for a while now, but HAU took over since the VSU is just small time agents anyways.” He snorted loudly, apparently forgetting that he had once been part of the Villain Suppression Unit and had been kicked out for sexual harassment.

I checked the weapon, a sleek, silver appearing gun. The muzzle was oddly shaped. “Does it shoot bullets?”

“Nope! It shoots a dart, that injects the anti-super power serum.” He pointed to the small box of ammo. “It is made to look almost exactly like the HAU stun dart weapon, so you need to be careful..” He laughed loudly. “Don’t want to accidentally shoot someone with one of these puppies instead of a stun dart or something.”

I looked at the dart closely, with a morbid fascination. “Is there an antidote for the anti-super power serum?”

“They’ve been working on it, but no luck so far!” Greg paused, seeming slightly uncomfortable for the first time. “Hey, Jarrod? What are you going to use this for? I can take it out of the HAU because I’m on the security team, but it needs to be back in 24 hours.”

I snapped the briefcase closed, smiling brightly. “No worries. That’s plenty of time.”

Leaving him behind, my hand tightly clutching the handle of the briefcase, I moved on, a plan forming in my mind.

I had the weapon.

All I needed was a way to contact the Shadow Couple.

Which meant I needed to have a little talk with my younger brother.

“What do you want?”

My brother looked tired, as he eyed me with suspicion. We were in a private visiting room, another perk to being a super-hero. I guess even with Michael’s powers of invisibility and speed they didn’t think he could get past me to escape.

Which worked for me. I wanted the privacy.

“I’ve given up on asking you why you never helped Erica, a little girl who was suffering.” I sighed as I leaned back in my chair. “At first I thought maybe you were scared. You didn’t want to tell me my ‘sister’ was being hurt. I even thought that maybe the Shadow Couple captured you as a child and forced you to work on their side.”

“…” Michael warily said nothing. I continued on as if talking to myself.

“But then, I thought back to all our ‘training fights’ before I regained my powers. Back to how mom and dad treated you like glass once I was stronger than you. How I was ‘the weakling’ when I couldn’t beat you, but I was ‘a bully’ once I could… All of that started to make sense, and I came to a conclusion.”

I leaned forward, a slight smile on my face.

“You are a coward. A coward who enjoys watching people weaker than you suffer.”

“ You son of a…” Michael’s face contorted with rage, he reached towards me, only to break off on a squeal of pain as I grabbed his hand in my own. I squeezed until the bones started fracturing into multiple pieces.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? It hurt me when you broke my bones too. All those ‘training accidents’ when we were kids. You were quite a sadistic little bastard.”

Michael tried to pull his hand away, his face pale and sweating with the pain.

“I forgive you though. We were kids. Our parents enabled you, taught you to bully the weak and cower before the strong. A strange lesson for a super hero, but I don’t really think any of family qualify for a term like ‘hero.’”

“If you forgive me, then let go…” He forced the words out with a groan of agony.

I tightened my hand instead, feeling a few more satisfying cracks. “I forgive you for what you did to me. What you did to Erica on the other hand…”

“PLEASE!”

“I’ll stop when you tell me how to contact the Shadow Couple.” I grinned as he shook his head slightly and shifted my grip to hold more of his hand. “Otherwise I’ll break every bone in your hand one by one, and then move onto the next. You’re in with a hero, no one will even bother to check on you. We can be here for a very, very long time.”

My smile turned bitter as he quickly spit out a number that would reach them.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

I fired my weapon under the table.

He leaned forward with a groan as the dart struck Michael in the stomach.

“What did you…?”

I quickly put the weapon back in the hidden holster under my pant leg. Slightly dismayed but relieved at how easily I had snuck it past security, I leaned over the table, reaching out to remove the dart and stored that as well.

“That was the ‘anti-super power weapon’ the Shadow Couple is looking for.” I smiled. “I thought I would test it out before handing it over.

Michael shook his head. “ARE YOU CRAZY! You can’t give them technology like this! They’ll destroy everything!”

I raised an eyebrow. “So its okay for you to help them for money, but not okay for me to help them to save someone’s life?”

“Save… “ He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “You’re doing it for that bit…” I pushed the table lightly, and it flew into his stomach, cutting off his words.

“Don’t worry about the world, brother dearest. You have much bigger problems.” I stood up, straightening out my jacket with a casual motion.

“I’ve arranged for you to be transferred.”

Michael mouthed a single word. Where.

“Blood Row.” I smiled as his eyes grew wide.

Blood Row. The most notorious layer of prison for the worst kind of criminals. The kind that hated heroes the most.

“Don’t worry, they are well aware that you were working for the Shadow Couple… and betrayed them to get a better deal. You should fit in nicely there. Especially now that your powers are gone.”

I turned towards the door and knocked, waiting for it to open.

“Wait!” His voice cracked on the word. I turned back towards him with a small hint of curiosity.

“Blood row is… death sentence… please… I’m your brother.” He was struggling to talk after the blow from the table but he pushed on, his face desperate.

I watched him silently for a few moments. “Sorry, I’ve come to the realization that despite being a superhero, I’m not all powerful. I can only protect one person. And she deserves it a hell of a lot more than you.”

The door opened, and I walked out.

“WAAAIT!”

I didn’t turn back again.

ERICA

“Where is he?!” I slammed my fists on the Captain’s desk.

He raised an eyebrow, looking up at me with a sarcastic grin. “Hello to you too.”

“Cut the crap, Captain.” I was not in the mood to joke. “I’ve been following Hen… Jarrod’s tracks all day. He stopped by the HAU, picked something up. He stopped by the prison and saw his brother, and then he came here. What did he tell you?”

“Would you believe it if I said he didn’t tell me anything?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” He looked me in the eye. “He told me the truth. About the poison.”

I sank down into a nearby chair. “Crap.”

“Yeah.” He glared at me. “Were you ever going to tell me that you were dying?”

I shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Great.”

“At least I’m honest.”

“In some ways, I guess.” He leaned back, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “Is this why you’ve been so desperate to put away as many villains as possible these last few years?”

I waved a hand dismissively. “We can pick apart my psychological motivations at a later date. I want to know where he is right now.”

“I don’t know.” He held up a finger, stopping me before I could argue. “And that IS the truth. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going, wouldn’t risk his plan going off course.”

My stomach dropped. “What is his plan?”

“Here.” He handed me a letter. “Everything he told me should be in here.”

I opened it with trembling fingers, scanning over the contents quickly before tearing it in half.

“We have to stop him.”

“It’s too late.” The captain sighed. “By the time he had come to talk to me, he had already sealed his fate. There was nothing I could do but let him try to save you.”

I laughed, but it sounded more like a sob as it caught in my chest. “It won’t work. They’ll kill him.”

He nodded. “They might.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Because I couldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He shrugged. “Maybe so. He and I happen to agree on something, though.”

“What?”

“That you’re worth saving.”

I stood up, my feet unsteady. “And if I tell you I’m not going to let him die?”

He clapped my shoulder, handing me a tracking device. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I walked out of the office, one thought and one thought only dominating my mind.

I would save him.

HENRY/ JARROD

“That didn’t take long.” The woman I had once thought was my mother smiled with the slightest hint of exasperation.

I didn’t smile back. I simply clutched the black case tighter. “She doesn’t have long. I wouldn’t waste time.”

“Honestly,” The man sighed, turning to his wife. “If we’d known it was so easy to get a hold of this technology… I feel like we wasted years of planning.”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s fine dear, what matters is that we win in the end.”

Turning on a device in her hand, her smile widened when it beeped and flashed green. “You didn’t lie and came alone. I’m impressed.”

I shrugged. “I won’t risk her not getting the antidote.”

“Indeed. Then I assume you brought the anti-super power device?”

I nodded, holding up the briefcase. “Here.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You open it.”

I set the case on the ground, opening the lid to reveal the dart gun and ammo.

He smiled. “Looks good so far.” He sighed. “Take the gun out slowly and hand it to me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think I trapped the case?”

“I trust no one.”

“I won’t risk Erica not getting the antidote.”

“So you’ve said. Take out the weapon. Slowly.”

I lifted the weapon by the muzzle, pointing it at myself and handing it handle first to the man. He grasped it, his hand tightening around it with a satisfied expression.

“And the ammo next.”

I lifted the case of darts, handing it to the woman. She lifted one out, studying it closely. “Such a powerful little weapon, in such a little dart.”

“Will you give her the antidote now?” My voice sounded weak, defeated.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not so fast. How do we know you didn’t give us something fake?” She handed it to her husband who loaded the dart into the gun.

“I didn’t…”

“I know, I know… you wouldn’t risk her not getting the antidote, blah blah blah.” The man pointed the gun at me with a smile. “Only one way to find out.”

The dart hit my arm. I pulled it out with a groan. They both studied me a moment.

“Did it work?”

“How could we tell? It’s not like there would be a flash of light or something to say he’s lost his powers.”

The woman chuckled. “I have an idea.”

I fell to the ground, A knife in my left chest.

“Nice throw, Honey!”

“Thanks!” She stepped closer, looking at me closely. Reaching down, she slowly pulled the knife out. “It’s not specially coated like the anti-super darts. If he still had his powers it shouldn’t have penetrated his skin so easily.”

“He lost his powers?” The man whistled. “What a fool. He gave us exactly what we asked for.”

I curled up in a ball on the ground, my hands clutching the bleeding wound in my chest. I was having trouble breathing, was my lung collapsed?

“An-Antidote…”

The man rolled his eyes. “So persistent. But we did make a promise.” Pressing a button on his belt, a screen behind him turned on. It was live security camera footage, showing the front lobby of the VSU. A man dropped a package off at the front desk dressed as a courier, before turning and walking out with a quick wink to the camera. “There. The antidote is delivered to her doorstep. Beyond our reach.” He smiled. “Congratulations. You saved her. Just like you wanted.”

The woman leaned over me, using her foot to turn me onto my back. “Want to know a real kicker of a secret though?” Her grin was vicious. “We would have saved her either way.”

“Of course.”

“We love our daughter.”

“She’s to inherit the family business after all.”

“Hopefully she’ll be more inclined with you having betrayed her.”

“And dead.” The man laughed. “Don’t forget he’ll be very much dead by the time she finds him.”

They both pull out knives, one clean, one already slick with my blood, and moved forward.

“Fast or slow?”

“Better be fast, we have work to do with this special weapon.” He patted the dart gun at his side.

...

It was done.

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh, so hard that I started coughing up blood.

The woman paused, disconcerted. “What’s so funny?”

“You think you have the anti-super power weapon.” I chuckled, spitting to clear my mouth before continuing. “You think I would betray her?”

The man shook his head. “You’ve obviously lost your powers, don’t lie to us.”

I grinned, feeling a wet pool start to form beneath me. “Shot myself with the REAL anti-super weapon before I came. You only have blanks.”

The woman’s face contorted as she reared back, kicking me. “YOU’RE LYING!”

“Even an idiot like me knew you would test out the weapon. My bet was that your first target would be me.” I leaned back my head on the ground, exhausted. “Turns out I was right.”

“So we gave up the antidote for nothing?” The man sighed. “Well, we were going to cure her anyways.”

“How disappointing.”

“Let’s kill him anyways before we leave, so we haven’t wasted the trip.” She leaned over with her knife… I closed my eyes, resigned.

“HOLD IT!”

A loud voice called out. A familiar voice. My eyes shot open again.

“Erica…”“SWEETIE!”

The woman called out as the same time as me, opening her eyes wide. “How long have you been there?”

She stepped forward, her armor and weapons gleaming in the florescent lighting of the villains hideout. “Not long.”

“You missed it, dear. We mailed the antidote to the VSU! You’re saved!”

The man shook his head. “But your dear old brother betrayed you.” He lifted the dart gun in his hand. “Gave us anti-super technology.”

I looked over at Erica, wondering if she had seen my letter. She met my eyes briefly, and then looked up. “Is that so?”

“Yes of course. What a disappointment he is. So weak.” The woman reached out to touch her. “You should join us, dear. You belong with your family.”

Erica smiled. “You’re right. I do.”

With that, she kicked her mother across the room.

BAM! She hit a wall of computers, sliding to the floor with a groan.

The man sighed. “You never learn.”

“No.” Erica’s smile only grew wider. “You two are the ones who never learn. Falling for the same trick twice.”

“What do you...?” Mid-sentence, the two collapsed on the ground, unable to stand or move. I sighed with relief as Erica stepped closer, helping me to my feet.

“You’re an idiot.”

“That poison took longer than I thought.”

She glanced at her parents with a sigh. “The same poison I used all those years ago. I can’t believe the Captain let you have the only sample. Where did you put it? On the dart gun?”

I grinned. “No, on the darts. I didn’t want to touch it myself.”

“You would have died if I hadn’t made it on time.”

I started to laugh, and then groaned as the action aggravated the wound in my chest. “I guess I owe you another coffee for saving my life.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She walked towards the Shadow Couple, her feet slowing as she neared them. I wasn’t sure what she was about to do, but unsurprisingly, I found i didn’t care.

“I won’t say anything, no matter what.” I meant it. She could hurt them; kill them. After what they had done to her, I would look the other way.

She grinned at me. “Good to know I’m a bad influence on you.” Leaning over, she injected something in each of their arms.

“It’s a capsule.” She informed them seriously. “Contains a deadly poison. Set only to release if I press a button.”

“….” They stared at her in shock.

“Don’t worry, I won’t push it… as long as you stay nicely in prison where you belong. Understand what will happen if you escape again?”

She spread her hands helplessly, then turned to grab me as I swayed on my feet, almost falling.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“What about…” I tilted my head towards the temporarily paralyzed couple.

“My team’s got it. They’re just cleaning up the rest of the gang I took out on my way in.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re a total badass?”

She smiled. “Oh, don’t worry, I know.”

The VSU streamed in, packing away the shadow couple as the world started spinning around me.

“Could you stay awake, Henry?” Her voice was slightly panicked. “I can’t carry you alone.”

“Sorry I guess I’m a deadweight…” I started to apologize and then the world faded into darkness.

ERICA

“Why did you want to talk to me?” I asked, sipping on the office coffee and then setting it down, making a face at the bitter taste.

The captain sighed loudly. “For once in your life, would it kill you to treat me with the respect due a superior officer?”

I considered it carefully. “Yes. It might actually kill me.”

“I should fire you.” He grumbled.

“You won’t.”

“You’re right, I won’t. Dammit.”

Shaking his head slowly, he leaned back in his chair. “I called you in here because you’re being assigned a new partner.”

SLAM!

I had been in the process of putting my feet up on his desk, and they slammed down on the floor as I sat up in shock. “Wait! I’m working with the HAU liaison, remember?”

“I remember, even if you’ve conveniently forgotten that you were the one who protested loudly and frequently about ‘babysitting a tights-wearing goodie two shoes.’ As you so eloquently put it.”

“Still, you overruled my objections and teamed us up. So I can’t have a new partner.” I smirked.

“You have to, since the liaison position has been terminated. “

“No. No, Henry is the liaison.”

The Captain frowned. “Jarrod was the liaison. He has since resigned. You are working with VSU’s newest recruit.”

I blinked in shock. Why hadn’t he told me? I had been to the hospital every day while he recovered, but he had been discharged two weeks ago, and hadn’t contacted me since. Just as I was starting to plan all sorts of vaguely sinister plans for getting back at him for quitting being the liaison without telling me, a knock at the door caught my attention.

“That must be your new partner now.” The captain gestured towards the door. “Could you let him in? His hands are probably full.”

What did that mean? I groaned and stood up, making sure my face had been configured into my best glare before opening the door. But as i saw who stood behind it, my jaw dropped.

“Henry.”

He stood in the doorway, precariously balancing three coffees in his hands. “Erica” Henry grinned, the expression causing me to smile back unconsciously. “A little help?”

He handed me a cup, holding the other two more securely with a sigh of relief. “That one’s yours. Black, sugar, no cream.” He placed another one on the desk. “Captain. Triple espresso, and don’t you dare tell your wife I’m getting this for you. She’s terrifying.”

The captain drained the steaming hot coffee in one gulp, as if daring it to try to burn his mouth. “Almost strong enough.”

“And my perfectly normal drink.” He sipped at it quietly, I noticed he kept a lid on it.

“You ordered extra sprinkles again, didn’t you?”

“No comment.” We laughed.

As we all sat down, I studied him carefully. “So you’re the new recruit to the VSU?”

“That’s right.”

“What about hero work?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Well, for now, I’m powerless, thanks to the anti-super power serum. They’re working on an antidote, but who knows if or when I’ll get my powers back.”

I glared at him. “It’s all your fault you lost your powers.”

“Worth it.” He was unrepentant. “But until then, I’d like to work where I could do the most good.” He held out a hand. “As the partner of the best agent the VSU’s got.”

The captain snorted quietly, but I ignored him. Instead, I studied the hand in front of me, thinking back to a time he had made a similar gesture in this office and had been ignored.

I had grown up learning to never trust anyone, especially heroes.

But looking at the idiot who risked his life just to get an antidote for me, I thought that I might be ready for something new.

I might be ready to have someone watching my back.

I reached out, and took his hand, shaking it firmly. Henry’s face lit up with a bright happy smile.

“Let’s do it.”

“Good. Now sit down!” The captain yelled, obviously uncomfortable with the emotion in the room. “I have your next assignment, and I would appreciate it if you could do it without remodeling the villain lair using the unconscious bodies of the henchmen like last time… not that I’m naming names… Erica.”

Laughing, we took down the information, and headed out of the VSU headquarters, walking side by side.

Teammates.

Partners.

Family.

#writing #short story #superheroes #super villains #part 4 #end #hope you guys enjoyed #i love these characters #violence #abuse mention #poison

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