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creatingnikki · 4 years

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What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out.

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices.

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make.

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it!

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up.

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday.

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same.

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people.

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful.

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away.

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you.

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs.

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight.

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tinyshinysylveon · 4 years

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i suddenly got this idea where izuku is an anonymous famous editor for youtubers who hire him to edit their videos because he’s a professional at doing it, and katsuki is an upcoming youtube vlogger who travels around the world and yet doesn’t know how to edit his own videos to save his life, so no matter what he does, he always seem to mess up even the basics of editing (part 1/??)

“i think you need professional help” kirishima says as he watches katsuki trying to drag an edited cut on to his video for the umpteenth time that day “shut up, shitty hair just give me a minute-” an error popup. “did you just.. deleted the video?” “....”

katsuki keeps trying, he even watched tutorials on youtube (while skipping important segments ofc because he can totally do that all on his own!) but his patience is wearing thin until kirishima recommended him to someone who’s known in the youtube community for their famous editing skills

“..deku?” katsuki stares at his screen showing a youtube profile with the name deku as their username and an icon of all might with edited-in sunglasses “okay look, he may seem suspicious to you, but i gotta tell you bakugou, he’s legit, i’ve seen his videos and they look awesome!” well katsuki will be the judge of that despite this deku having 5 mil+ subscribers than him!

the blonde spent the whole day watching deku’s videos which mostly consists of amvs (anime music videos) and games, especially the ones that required a lot of effort to make, plus he even made tutorials! so he gotta give him credit for that, but alas, katsuki is still somehow having trouble following directions and gave up on the latest tutorial video on how to add an easy transition

when kirishima came to check in with katsuki, all he heard were multiple clicks and grumbled noises, he let out an exasperated sigh “i can’t believe you’re still trying..” “what the fuck do you want me to do kirishima?” katsuki was trying not to flip his table at this point. “hire him obviously!” the red head yells out as if that’s the answer to their problems “..and how do you suppose i do that?”

it actually took a lot of convincing in kirishima’s part, but katsuki finally threw away his pride and decided to send a message to deku’s business email that was left under his about page on youtube

“..i want you to become my editor and help me in becoming the #1 youtube travel vlogger in the community” kirishima reads the message out loud that’s displayed on the screen, “you sure you want to send it like this?” “i don’t see anything wrong with it?” “but don’t you think it’s too.. blunt? no formalities or anything like, hello i’ve seen your videos and i would be honored to have you as my editor, you know?” katsuki just shrugged, “it’s too late, i already sent it to him”

about half a day later, deku replied back, “Good afternoon Mr.Explosionmurder, I appreciate that you requested me to become your editor and would like to discuss further details about our agreement via discord. You can contact me by adding my username, deku#2463. I look forward to hearing from you.” to this day, kirishima still can’t believe his eyes when he read the message

“oi shitty hair, what’s a discord?”

it wasn’t katsuki’s fault that the majority of time he spent in high school was doing his best to stay on top of assignments and projects, plus being in the A honor roll, he didn’t really get to decide on his career until after he graduated, thanks to the courtesy of his parents owning their own modeling industry, he put the money he saved up to good use in traveling around the world and vlogging it for people to see with kirishima as his traveling partner

he explained all of this and his reasonings to deku on discord once he reached out to him and figured out how to use the platform, but katsuki was still suspicious regarding his video editing skills and wanted to see it firsthand on how his videos would look like as a finished product

deku: fair enough, send me your videos and i’ll see what i can do, until then, if you deem it satisfactory, which i’m confident that you will, i request a 50/50 payment on your revenue. take it or leave it.

for some reason, katsuki agreed to it without a second thought due to the challenging tone from the message; “i can’t believe you! i told you to trust him! why do you have to doubt him?! haven’t you already seen his videos?!” kirishima was full on panicking at this point, how were they going to make money?! “shut up, i know what i’m doing! i know what’s best for my videos!” it was a good chance too since they’re currently in hong kong and planning to shoot the top 10 tourist spots to visit as claimed by an article he found online

a few days later, katsuki finally got all the videos piled up in one folder and sent them all in a google drive to share with deku just as he requested, he even mentioned to him thru discord message to follow the cues he was giving him on his videos such as when he and kirishima took a stroll and tried foods in the temple street night market; “hey deku, i want you to do a close up of kirishima eating the curry fish ball with erotic music playing in the background” he smirks while focusing the camera on the red head eating without a care in the world and not noticing katsuki making the comment, “mmm dude, mmm you gotta try this, it’s so freakin’ good- wait bro, how long have you been pointing the camera at me?”

in less than a week, deku sent a reply back with the link to the fully edited video; deku: hmm, not gonna lie, but your cues were actually helpful and dare I say, creative? katsuki took it as a compliment and opened the link to the video file, it was about a few GB so it shouldn’t take a long time to upload on youtube, but.. was it ready? he called in kirishima to watch it with him and was actually prepared for it to look horrible despite deku’s obvious talent except.. it was actually pretty good?? better even?! “what did i tell ya katsuki? i told you he was legit,” his partner boasted, just earlier he was embarrassed when the part about him eating the curry fish ball with the “let’s get it on” music in the background showed up while the blonde just rolled his eyes.

explosionmurder: thanks, and i just saw it, consider yourself hired deku: happy to be of service! i’m looking forward to working with you, mr.explosionmurder! it would be helpful again if you provided the cues during your journey! :) explosionmurder: don’t mention it and also don’t call me that, call me katsuki deku: okay, mr.katsuki! [all might emoji]

kastuki found it odd that he became really eager during the exchange but thought nothing of it

a couple of months flew by and katsuki with kirishima in tow have already travelled in 4 other different countries, he even received about 500k+ subscribers, he’s almost to 1 million! as per agreement, he gives half of his revenue to deku which was okay with him since he still has a lot of saved up money in the bank including kirishima’s since they’re sharing it anyway, most of the time, his communication with deku have been entirely professional with a few emojis in between (usually deku’s part), until today that is

deku: it must be nice to travel 0: explosionmurder: pfft, what are you talking about? you now have over 7 mil+ subscribers in your channel since i met you, you can go traveling whenever or wherever you want deku: i can’t explosionmurder: what do you mean you can’t?

no reply

since then, katsuki didn’t want to think too much on what deku said and focused mostly on traveling, those videos won’t work themselves! after he finished, he sent over the videos of his recent trip from india over to deku and as usual, deku delivered it back beautifully edited along with a message

deku: that’s so cool! you guys went to india? *o* [link to video edit] explosionmurder: yeah, you should’ve seen shitty hair when he tried that really spicy curry, which reminds me, you did what i asked right? deku: of course mr. katsuki! as always, i’ve paid attention to every cue you asked for! [saluting pepe emoji] explosionmurder: good good, i didn’t just hire you to sit on your ass all day deku: haha you’re not my only contractor you know ^^” explosionmurder: is that what you meant when you said you couldn’t travel because you’ve been busy? way to be blunt katsuki, he mentally berated himself, but at least deku answered this time, although reluctantly deku: ...let’s just say im stuck at home in that very moment, is when everything changed between them explosionmurder: alright nerd, you sound depressed as hell so i’m going to give you the decision to decide on where we’re going to travel to next, think of it as a reward for all you’ve done for us deku: asdkjflas that’s too much! T_T are you sure mr. katsuki??? explosionmurder: i’m waiting, you got 3 seconds starting now, 3 deku: america! i’ve been wanting to go to america...

katsuki told kirishima his plans, then the spiky red head gave him a pat on the back and a thumbs up, “so you do have a sentimental bone in your body!” kirishima was almost close to being dead that very same day

when they arrived to america, he asked deku the list of things he wanted to see and most of them were, “all might amusement park, all might cafe, all might- is there anything else the nerd likes besides all might and superheroes?” katsuki says while viewing the list in the hotel they’re staying at. “give him a break, you said so yourself that he couldn’t leave his house, so this is the least we can do for him and for all the hard work he put in our videos,” kirishima reasoned with him

on the last day of their trip, katsuki did his routine in piling the videos together and sending them to deku with the attached message, “i actually bought you a souvenir if you want it, looked like the type of shit you would like, you’ll see what it is in the videos i’ve sent you” they’ve known each other long enough so he thought why the hell not, it’s just a matter of getting his PO address, and the response to this was immediate, “AAA I SAW IT! THANK YOU THANK YOU!” <3<3 <(^w^<)

it was an all might limited edition figurine only available in the US

for the first time, deku took two days longer to finish than katsuki expected him to since they’ve started because he always goes through them pretty quickly, maybe he’s too busy making them look up-to-par? whatever the case was, when katsuki received the video, it already had a title for it, “MY AWESOME TRIP TO AMERICA PLUS ULTRA!” kirishima just laughed and told him to keep it in honor of deku so he left it like that, “this better give me some views,” he grumbled and uploaded it the night before they went to bed, he wasn’t really worried in checking it out either because he has faith in deku’s abilities

the morning after was hectic, katsuki has been receiving notifications upon notifications on the “travel bros” (courtesy of kirishima) twitter since last night, one in particular caught his eye, “i can’t believe deku and katsuki are dating! who would’ve thought!” what?

a short video appeared underneath that came from the video he uploaded, and regretfully never took a look at, showing katsuki saying to the camera as he held the AM figurine, “deku, you should’ve been here, look at what i got you, nerd,” at first glance, it was supposed to look normal (from the original video!) except hearts and sparkles began appearing around katsuki as he smirks up at the camera, what the fuck? besides, deku was suppose to edit that all out! for every cue in every part where he says deku’s name, he was expected to delete them like he usually does! even though it was no secret that deku was his video editor, he distinctly remembers mentioning about him in a video they took way back when they first started out their contract agreement

meanwhile, kirishima was having a field day, he finally saw their video while katsuki kept on seeing other short videos of him on twitter from different segments of the trip in which he either had sparkles or hearts around him, especially when he mentions deku’s name; “bro you won’t believe this, our subscribers grew up to over 1 million last night!” kirishima yells enthusiastically, but when he noticed katsuki not paying attention to him, he looked over his shoulder to check what he was looking at. “oh that, you know those aren’t fanmade videos, right?” katsuki unblinkingly turned to look at him, “you mean..?” kirishima gave him a toothy grin, “yep!”

a video call from discord, “dekuuuu, what is the meaning of this?” a squeaky voice, “i-I’m so sorry i got carried away and i couldn’t help it! all might was too beautiful including you and-!” “..what did you just say?”

TBC maybe?

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk #ktdk #katsuki x izuku #my trashy writing #I REALLY DIDNT MEANT FOR THIS TO BE LONG #the last time ive wrote something this long was my assassin!au #but this is probably longer aa #the ideas were flowing inside me so i couldnt help myself asdfghjkl #i have it all planned out but it was getting too long and i'll probably write the rest if this gets enough attention #;;;#I swear this sounded better in my head #ill edit this later..

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lovemalecforever · 3 years

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Chapter 4

Confrontations and Truths

It was almost 5:30, the dusk was setting in as Alec walked out of his office, mumbling something under his breath. He looked around to find a taxi which he got after 5 minutes, then got in and left for Catarina's house.

*At Catarina's apartment*

Catarina was pacing in her living room, glancing at the clock again and again. Her worries were deepening with each passing second when her doorbell rang. Sighing, she waved her hands and opened the door.

Alec walked inside and gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Cat! I'm.... 15 minutes late." He said while hugging her gently.

"That's not what I'm concerned about Alec, you asked me to meet you urgently and not tell Magnus about our meeting at all, what's going on!?"

He was about to answer when a soft voice echoed the whole house.

"Aallleeecccc!"

Madzie came running down the hall and hugged Alec's leg who was around Alec's waist height now. She was growing faster and learned a lot in all these years. Catarina had officially adopted her, and they formed a really great bond over the course of years.

A wide smile appeared on Alec's face as he bent down to her height and gave her a tight hug. "Hey, sweet pea!"

"Magnus didn't come?" She asked in a sad voice.

"No, sweet pea, I had some important work with your mom, that's why I came. We'll surely come soon to meet you, okay?"

"Okay!" she said enthusiastically, her sadness completely gone.

"Hey Mads! Go to your room sweetheart, we have some important work to discuss." Catarina said to her softly but a slight tone of worry was visible in her voice.

"Okay mommy, bye Alecc!"

"Bye, sweet pea!"

After she left, Catarina sighed, crossed her arms above her chest, and glared at Alec. "Alec! Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Cat! Calm down, can we please sit and talk?"

Catarina sighed yet again. They walked towards her mini balcony where there was a coffee table with two wooden chairs placed around it. She waved her hands and summoned a hot coffee for herself and hot chocolate with marshmallows for Alec.

"Thank you!" Alec said as he sat down on the chair.

Catarina was still looking at him firmly.

"So, to answer your question, Magnus is not fine."

"What!? Alec! What happened to him, has his powers-"

"Cat! Cat! Calm down! There's nothing wrong with him. He's completely fine, he's just not fine emotionally."

"Emotionally!?"

"Look, Cat, it's our anniversary in 6 days, I want to do something for him for which I'll be needing the help of a warlock, and I obviously can't take Magnus' help, so that's why I wanted to meet you."

Catarina let out a breath of relief, which she didn't know was holding. "Alec, I'm still confused, how is Magnus' mental health and your surprise plan related?"

Alec took a deep breath and composed himself before speaking. "You're aware of the biggest attack that happened in Alicante about a month ago, which almost resulted in war?"

"Yes, Alec, I obviously am, that's the reason I'm in Alicante. They needed the powerful warlocks from around the globe to fix the broken wards, you know it really well those are no ordinary wards. But, what about it?" a frown appeared on her forehead, not understanding where this was headed.

"Well, in that attack, I was in the field and Magnus was also called. It was not a small attack so they called everyone that can fight that battle. We both were on the field fighting side by side, but..." Alec cleared his throat, his eyes starting to flood with tears with those memories.

"Alec?" Catarina asked softly.

Alec closed his eyes and a teardrop fell on his cheek. "I... I almost died in that battle."

"What!?" Catarina's eyes went wide. "Oh my god! Alec... why nobody told me about this!? Why am I hearing about it now?"

"You were at the Spiral Labyrinth, Cat. We wouldn't be able to contact you even if we wanted. And, you know Magnus, he hates talking about things like these."

Catarina sighed and gave a slow nod.

"Anyways, I was in a coma for 10 days. My recovery was really slow, but I recovered. I knew Magnus was by my side the whole time, I was able to hear him, hear everything happening beside me, I heard him crying, begging me to wake up, to not leave him this soon, that... he won't be able to live without me, he cried on my arms, didn't sleep for a day!" He paused as tears kept running down his face.

Catarina gently squeezed his arms.

"When I recovered and went back home, he didn't allow me to go back to work for days. I had to convince him, remind him that I'm an inquisitor, I don't have that much fieldwork now, but... he never was able to get over it." He took a deep breath and continued.

"He told me he was fine, but I know he's not Cat! He still cries at night, thinking I'm asleep and not hearing him. whenever I've come home early, I've heard him crying, saying things like... like I'll die someday in a battle or I'll grow old one day and die and leave him forever. But I've always ignored it, knowing that I won't be able to comfort him no matter how hard I try to. And also, because he thinks he's hiding from me. If I confront him, he'll become defensive and more secretive, he'll push me away."

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Catarina reached out and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. When he opened his eyes, tears were shining brightly in them.

"I... I can't see him like that, Cat! He had a past full of pain, he had been in and out of relationships, had bad ones like Camille. You know all about it better than me, I know he's scared that I'll grow old one day and die. My mortality is scaring him, I love him and I'm worried about him."

"Oh my! Alec... I can't believe Magnus didn't say a word to me. But how can I help you with this?"

"I... Is... I... I... Is...."

"Alec!?" Catarina frowned, her mind going only in one direction with Alec's confrontation.

"I want to become immortal!" He announced.

At first, Catarina's eyes went wide, but then a light smile appeared on her face. "Look, Alec, I'm happy to see the love you have for Magnus, but becoming immortal-"

"It's not just for Magnus, Cat! I'm doing it for myself as well. I want to be with Magnus forever. I can't think of being apart from him even for a day, and, about watching my whole family dying in front of my eyes, with Magnus being by my side, I know I'll handle it!"

Catarina was so awestruck by his determination. 'Magnus is really lucky to have Alec, I'm so happy for you Magnus Bane!' she thought. "But there's one more problem, Alec, you have pure angel blood running in your veins, if you want to become immortal-"

"You think I came without homework, Cat!?" He took out a piece of paper from his pants pocket and kept it on the table. She took it and carefully opened it but then her eyes went wide.

"Wha... Alec, from where did you get this?"

"I was looking through the history of Shadowhunters and Immortals when I got this. The only thing I got to know this far is that," he pointed at the sketch on paper, "his name was Kasper Windermere, the first Shadowhunter to become immortal, half angel and half Shadowhunter, he became half-angel through a spell, but I'm not able to find the rest of it."

Catarina's eyes were wide. Noticing that, Alec took her hand in his catching her attention.

"Look, Cat, I want to become immortal, but Shadowhunting is my life, my career, it's what I've taught since childhood, I can't just give up on it. And I know I'll regret if I become immortal by using demon blood, you all know me. So that's the only option I have. Please, help me Cat!"

She couldn't help but give a wide smile at Alec.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You know, Magnus has been my best friend for centuries, I've seen him falling in and out of love, being with people, caring for them, and getting heartbroken but I've never seen anyone caring for Magnus the way you do. Magnus is really lucky to have you in his life. I'm really happy for both of you."

Alec's cheeks flushed red at this. "Thank you, Cat!"

"But for what you want, we need to search in every place possible. We can start with Book of White; Magnus gave it to me to keep it safe, I'll bring it."

"Okay, let's do it."

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

* A Few hours later*

"There's only a small part of the spell mentioned in it, Alec." Catarina rubbed her temples as she turned the book towards Alec. They searched for hours but were only able to find a few details.

"Hmm... but that means it's possible right? We just need to find the rest of it." He was really happy with their findings.

"Alec, are you really sure? There's little mention of it, and... it's written there that it has consequences, that's why it's removed."

"What consequences?" He frowned.

"This spell is irreversible, so you can never turn back to mortal ever again and the only means that can kill you is.... is your own will, as an angel you'll only die when you desire to be."

"How is the other one a consequence?" He asked, confused.

"Alec, no one desires to die, and there's no mention whether Kasper Windermere is alive or dead."

"I don't see any problem with any of the above!"

Catarina sighed. "You are so determined, aren't you?"

"Cat, I can't see Magnus like this anymore. With our anniversary coming, I want to surprise him in the best way possible. I want our anniversary to be about him, his happiness, and I know he'll be happy, so yes, I'm determined to do anything which will make him happy. I'll look for more information tomorrow at Gard's library."

Catarina grinned then out of nowhere, giving him a tight hug. "Magnus Bane is a hell of a lucky man!"

Alec pulled out of the hug but then his eyes fell on his watch, it was 10:30. "Shit! Oh, no! Shit! Shit!"

"Alec, what happened?"

"We planned a dinner at 7 today and it's 10:30, Magnus is going to kill me, I need to run!" He said in a hurried tone.

Catarina laughed and shook her head. "Go, get your husband Alec!"

"Bye, Cat!" With that, Alec rushed out of Catarina's house.

__________________________

Magnus was pacing in their living room, eyeing the cold food kept at the kitchen counter and at the clock alternatively. It was almost 10:45. His eyes were filled with the pool of tears that were ready to shed at any moment.

'Where are you, Alexander? You promised you'd make it for dinner.' He sighed and started pacing again when a sudden thought struck him. 'Is... Is he all right? Did something happen to him? Did he go for the hunt? No, No! But he should be home by now then!'

He was about to change into his regular clothes to go out in search of him when he heard the jingle of keys and the door opened making him let out a breath of relief.

Alec walked in and noticed that Magnus was standing in the center of the living room with worry-filled eyes. 'Shit! I'm screwed' he thought then cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry, Magnus, I... Umm... I...." He kept shuffling in his place, unable to meet the eyes with his husband's.

"Where were you, Alexander?" Magnus almost choked on his words.

Alec noticed this, 'he was crying again, shit! I'm sorry Mags. Just a few more days and you never have to worry about it ever again' he thought.

"I... I was actually with Izzy; she was at the meeting too... I met her after a long time, so after we were both done with our work and meetings we decided to meet for a coffee. We met and started chatting and didn't realize the time. I'm sorry Mags! I should've texted you, I forgot, I'm really sorry." He said half truthfully, Izzy was at the meeting, but she was in a hurry so they only talked for 5 minutes, then she left but she's still in Alicante.

He then took out the flower bouquet he was hiding the whole time, with a sorry card placed on top of it. "I hope this will make up for it, I'm so sorry Magnus!"

Magnus was completely on the verge of crying right now, he was trying to hold his tears back, as he kept glancing between the bouquet and his husband. 'I missed my chance again, how am I supposed to say anything when you keep doing things like this' he thought, unable to keep his tears back he started crying.

"Magnus!?" Alec kept the bouquet on the couch then hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry Magnus, I'm sorry!" 'I know why you're crying Magnus, please don't be scared love, just a few more days!'

Magnus cried on Alec's shoulders, holding his jacket in his fists tightly. 'how am I supposed to tell you, Alexander, how am I supposed to tell you that... that I want to end our marriage, that I want to end us. I can't take it anymore, thinking that you'll be gone forever someday, and I, I'll have to live with those memories. I can't create more memories with you, Alexander. What happened a month ago had hurt me in ways you can't imagine. I can't do this anymore, the more I'll be with you, the more it'll hurt me when you'll be gone. I won't be able to bear that pain, I have to end us, I need to end us, but how am I even going to say it, when you keep showering me with your love' he cried harder on his shoulders.

#happily married #malec forever #malec fic #magnus bane #malec #asaab #angst with a happy ending #angst #fanfic authors #alec lightwood #fanfiction #fanfic #lightwood bane family #fantasy #wattpad writer #wattpad

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mywingsareonwheels · 3 years

Text

I posted 3,486 times in 2021

198 posts created (6%)

3288 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 16.6 posts.

I added 2,369 tags in 2021

#bucky barnes - 427 posts

#mcu - 307 posts

#steve rogers - 277 posts

#sam wilson - 253 posts

#fanart - 252 posts

#tfatws - 222 posts

#stucky - 203 posts

#gifset - 181 posts

#tfatws spoilers - 134 posts

#good omens - 113 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#as always police procedural dramas happen in an au where police are like jimmy and tosh and billy rather than like they are in reality *sigh

My Top Posts in 2021

There are many things I love about Night Watch (Terry Pratchett) but one of them is that when you read other Discworld novels in which Vetinari intimidates Lord Downey in the present day, you know that he’s doing it to his old school bully. Nothing so gauche or petty as revenge, of course not, but it’s... there. :-)

And that’s just... deeply satisfying.

187 notes • Posted 2021-12-04 15:28:16 GMT

Its not exactly Geraskier but I hc that at some point while travelling with Ciri, Geralt realises that Jaskier was only 4 years older than Ciri when then first met and has a full on crisis "oh my god I let a fucking child tag along with me, what the hell"

Aaaah yes, perfect! Thank you anon. :-)

190 notes • Posted 2021-10-12 18:31:34 GMT

For anyone who needs to hear this:-

Adults who for reasons of physical disability, mental illness, learning disability etc. cannot live independently, who need carers, who need a lot of therapy, rehabilitation, and/or or help with day-to-day life, who have emotional support needs, etc.... are still adults. Are as adult as any other adult. Capitalism and ableism continually insist that physical, economic, and emotional independence (and full-time work, etc.) are all essential for adulthood and that having support needs (physical, emotional, and/or cognitive) is somehow infantile, but it’s really never wise to listen to capitalism or ableism about anything. ;-)

(The assumption that all disabled adults have support needs is also ableist, obviously! Fundamentally: in nearly all cases just believe what we each say about what our needs and abilities are or are not. But this post is about those of us who can’t live independently and may never be able to.)

Fellow disabled adults who are in this kind of situation: we’re awesome. We’re real, we’re adult, we’re important. We deserve respect <3 Wishing you all awesome carers, sensible medical professionals, and just the best possible support network all round. <3

208 notes • Posted 2021-05-29 20:30:43 GMT

Hey fellow UK people: look out for the government using the likely media obsession with Philip’s passing over the next few days/weeks/months as an excuse to drop bad news, horrifying decisions, appalling behaviour etc. while they think no one’s paying attention to anything but the Royal Family. They will absolutely do at least some of this, and we need to make sure to disappoint them.

355 notes • Posted 2021-04-09 11:45:08 GMT

I just wish to note that Bucky is under a curse for 7 decades, and that he is awoken from it by a mixture of a) love, b) his true name, c) his own words of devotion spoken back to him, d) the hero being willing to sacrifice himself to bring him back.

The fairytale tropeyness of all of this is intense, and I love it. Serious Tam Lin resonances, among much else.

599 notes • Posted 2021-06-22 09:03:42 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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spidxysense · 4 years

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Back to You | 13

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

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

You were in the car with Troye, it had been a few months since you came back home from Italy, and by home you meant your shared apartment with Troye in LA. Now you were out looking for a dress to wear to the premiere for Celia. You’d tricked your manager to think that you’ve been sick the past week but it was like Troye had a no Bullshit radar. The second he stepped into your shared apartment last night from his trip to Australia he knew you were pretending to be sick so you could miss the premier.

Troye pulls down his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, giving you a side eye as you glared at him, “Sweetie, don’t give me that look.” he rolls his eyes, “I thought everything was going great? You agreed to release that album you’d been holding onto for who even knows how long anymore. You and Timothee kissed-” You wince at the sound of his name, “Troye…”

He groans, “No! Tell me you didn’t ghost Timothee Chalamet, you asshole!”

You put your hands up in defense, “In my defense, I did not ghost him. He’s filming a movie, he’s off his phone because he’s focusing on the movie and-adn well, he’s starring in the movie with Lily-Rose Depp, he’ll forget about me.” You try to reason, finally opening up your insecurity to your best friend who probably already knew from the beginning.

His grip on the steering wheel gets tighter, “So what? You tell me you let Tom go, a week later news breaks that’s he’s dating Zendaya which by the way makes him a fucking asshole. Now you’re back to being this insecure girl who thinks some pretty french girl can steal this guy who’s like practically head over heels for you?” He pauses from his rant, “What are you two even?”

You shrug, "Which is why this situation is perfect. I have a chance to think things over and so does he… in case he realizes he made a big mistake. I don't know what we are, I mean, we just kind of agreed that we both like each other."

He groans, parking the car, "You two are cute you know? Like I want to bash your heads together cute because nobody will take the first step."

You hop out the car, slamming the door as cameras rush to your presence. Troye's hand on your back guides you through as he insults the paparazzi for hounding celebrities as their day jobs.

He passes by the aisles of clother, already picking something out for himself while ylu see a few pretty numbers tp buy for everyday use, "You are perfect, Y/N. Just like fucking insecure." He trails behind you, which you don't need to be, might I mention." He hands you a dress, pushing you to the dressing room, "I thought you might want to emulate her character so I thought this would be perfect."

You rolled your eyes, "At least Timothee won't be at the premier tonight." You sigh in relief, "He would never abandon filming just to go to some premiere. So that's one less person I have to worry about."

Troye gapes at you, "Oh honey, if you were anyone but you, I would agree, but I already know you're worrying about the fact that he's off in some european country with Lily."

You bit off a dry piece off of your bottom lip, as you changed, keeping silent because both you and Troye knew that what he was saying was right.

He sighs, “Look Y/N, at the end of the day all that matters is, is he someone you see yourself with? And if he is, then why the hell would you throw that away? Or even let anyone take from you? You need to boss the fuck up and I’m sorry if I’m hurting your feelings but I am so done with you being and feeling so sorry for yourself when you know you deserve better but aren’t taking it when it’s being handed to you.”

You open the door with a heave, “Because it feels like I don’t deserve it!” You were already wearing the dress but you slump down on one of the couches, “How can you not understand that the guy I let go, who was my first love is dating the very person he cheated on me with? How can you not understand how absolutely soul wrenching that is? That even if I want to be with Timothee, I can’t because I don’t know how to be with him properly. Because he’ll know and feel all these thoughts in my head and all these terrible feelings I have after Tom replaced me with the person he was with when he hurt me?” The tears are pouring out as you feel the flashes from the cameras outside but you didn’t care. Let them see because you were so tired of not being allowed to hurt, “I don’t know how to do this Troye, not without hurting Timothee, and I don’t want to do that… not anymore, he deserves the absolute world and where I am now, I can’t give him mine because there’s almost nothing left of it.”

Troye looks shocked as he gets on his knees next to you, hugging you with all his might, “Alright, well I guess tough love was the wrong move to use on you.” He pulls apart from you, grabbing your arms at the side and looks in your eyes, “But Y/N, have you ever wondered what Timothee wants? Based from everything you’ve told me it seems like you guys haven’t even talked about whatever the two of you are and Timothee wouldn’t be the type of person who’d tell you what he wants because he just wants you to get what you want.” He smiles sadly at you.

You sigh, “Alright, I’ll talk with Timothee when he gets back.”

He gives you a pat on the back, “That won’t even be for until a few months so you have time to think for yourself.” He grabs you by the hand, pulling you up to stand, “And that dress definitely embodies Celia. You’re wearing that tonight.”

You laugh, “I look like I’m going to prom. Is it really alright for me to wear this?”

Troye rolls his eyes, “Sweetie, this is your movie, you can wear whatever the hell you want. You could even come in a sack and nobody would have the right to tell you not to wear what you want.”

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

The light flashes in your eyes when the car comes to a hald and you step out, blinding lights from cameras and the ones directly pointed at the red carpet and suddenly you can’t breathe.

Troye’s hand guides you through the walkway onto the carpet but you can’t seem to get a grip on the reality in front of you. It had been so long since you last did a red carpet which was from The Greatest Showman. This was an indie movie, but given the success of the first one, it had garnered a lot more fans. Luckily you’re stopped by an interviewer.

“Y/N! You look fabulous!”

You smile shyly, “Thank you so much, you look beautiful tonight as well.”

She laughs along with what you said as she proceeds to her question, “So, how much chemistry should we be expecting from you and Timothee in this movie? You’re known to be very electric with your onscreen partners in your scenes so there’s no doubt in me that the sparks between you two will go absolutely haywire.”

You laugh, “Well, you know we did our best so hopefully the scenes are captivating and we were able to capture Luca’s intended emotions for the scenes.”

She nods, almost seeming like she wasn’t even listening, “And how about Timothee? He isn’t here tonight, will you and Armie be fine without him?”

You look around, “Oh is Armie here now?” You spot him along the carpet right as he looks over at you, waving and running over.

“Y/N!” He hugs you, as the interviewer stares at the two of you.

You wrap an arm around his back, “To answer your question, we won’t be needing Timothee.” You laugh.

Armie grabs hold of the mic in the interviewer’s hand, “This is live right?” He looks over at the interviewer who nods, “Timmy if you’re watching this, I hope you know we’re having the time of our lives here.”

He gives you a big smooch on the cheek, ruffling your hair and going back to the carpet with his wife who gives you a wave and blows a kiss towards you.

“Alright, so a few weeks ago, your team released a statement that you’ll be releasing your new album which from what we all understand has been in the making for a very long time?”

You nod, already expecting the next question out of her mouth.

“So is it safe to say songs from these past months since you last released an album will be in there.” You smile, nodding, “Then is it safe to assume we’ll be hearing some songs inspired by Tom?”

And there it was, “Well, you know this album will be a double release so it comes from all these beautiful moments since my last album, whether that be me in love, me falling out of love, hurting, laughing. I just think it’s gonna be such an important album for me since it captures so many beautiful moments in my life that I’m just very glad to be treasuring and emulating in my songs.”

“And you aren’t nervous at all for any backlash? Since it has been a while since we last heard a song from you and since you last performed live, especially considering how your last tour ended up.”

You nod along, not taking offense to the questions, “Yeah, well you know, I have been writing songs and they’ve been given to other artists so there’s not too much worry in me that these songs won’t be well liked, and in terms of tour I just don’t think that’s something I can really handle still since the last one had me in a really bad place mentally, and this is something I really want my fans to understand, that mental illness isn’t something we can ignore until we pop. We have to handle it the best way we can and sometimes that just means we have to avoid things that might bring us bad feelings.”

Suddenly the crowd goes wild as a car comes to a stop, the person inside stepping out. You crane your neck trying to get a good look at who it was, but the amount of people was too much so you decide against it. It was probably a celebrity that wasn’t in the movie and is going to the premier or a close friend of Armie’s or Timothee’s, maybe it was Saoirse Ronan.

You look back at the interviewer who had spotted another up and coming celebrity, “And here we have George Mackay!” He waves towards the camera, giving you a grin and standing next to you after the interviewer called him over.

“I don’t quite know why I’m here for the interview seeing as it’s not my premier.” He laughs, “But I am very excited to watch this movie.” He gestured towards you, “This is our first time meeting but I am a very big fan.”

You cover your mouth, “You were so great in Marrowbone.”

“So, here we have another up and coming actor, George Mackay at the premier. Many of our viewers have said that you two should do a movie together soon.”

You giggle, “Well I don’t know, only if George is up for it.”

He laughs, “I’ll have my agent call yours.” He jokes, “I’m quite excited for this one, You don’t really star in too many movies anymore so seeing Y/N in a movie is quite a treat.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Aren’t these two just adorable?” The interviewer laughs.

Suddenly an arm snakes around your back, and you turn only to see brown curly hair.

“Oh my! What a surprise, Timothee Chalamet has just arrived at the premier!”

Somehow George had made his way back to the carpet, Timothee now moving over to where George stood just moments ago.

You laugh nervously, “We thought you were still in Europe.”

He looks at you, a light in his eyes, “I would never miss the premier for our movie, are you kidding me?!”

She gestured towards you, “What can you say about Y/N? How is she looking tonight?”

He takes a look at you up and down, “Well you know, that isn’t really in my line to say but she looks great, absolutely stunning. I think Y/N and I are the same in the regard that we pick our own clothes for these things, right?”

You nod, “Totally, and I only really wanted to look good because I knew if you somehow ended up here tonight you’d outshine me.”

He laughs, “No way! How could I outshine you, I mean come on!” He looks at the camera gesturing towards you, “Look how beautiful she looks!” You blush at that.

The interviewer laughs, “Well, we just got a first hand look at the chemistry we were just talking about, Y/N. You two look like you’re on a date night.” She pauses, “Now Timothee, now that you’re back how was Europe, what did you miss most in the States?”

He grins, “Well it’s pretty cold there, and what did I miss, well not really too much. Who I missed though is a whole different question.”

You laugh nervously, realizing you weren’t ready for the whole freaking world to know you and Timothee had confessed mutual attraction.

The interviewer points at Timothee’s arm around you, “Now that’s been going on for a while now, do you have anything to tell us?”

Timothee opens his mouth, but you beat him to it, “Well you know Timmy, always comfortable with everyone he meets. He’s just such a goofball that’s very easy to get comfortable with him.” You laugh.

He somehow gets the point and laughs along, “Yeah yeah, exactly. One night during the filming I hopped in bed with Armie and his wife.”

“So do you have any words for this movie, Timothee?”

He nods, “Of course, well Armie and I are just so lucky that Luca didn’t realize we were two of the biggest idiots he’s ever met, and I’m just so thankful that this movie brought me to Y/N here, who is just so lovely and was the only sensible one among Armie and I. I really hope we stay in touch since a lot of these movies you know, once the filming is done, the same goes for the relationships and friendships you build with everyone here.” He takes a breath, “I’m very proud of what we’ve made and I really hope nobody has any regrets with the movie.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you two get to it. Thanks for giving us your time guys.” You wave at the interviewer and spot Luca along the carpet who was giving you hand signals to stick by Timothee the whole night.

You stand next to Timothee as pictures of the two of you were taken, “We need to talk.” You look up at him, right as he looks down at you.

“Okay.”

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy #Selena Gomez #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #bty #back to you #i updated yay #i missed you guys #spidxysense

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itsmyfandomandilikeit · 5 years

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I'm 26 arcs into Worm: The Stick Up Brian's Butt

So I'm listening to the We've Got Worm podcast and they keep talking about KingBob, the guy on reddit who really related to Alec and ended up understanding him (and by extension Aisha) far better than most of the other readers.

I haven't really gone into this on this blog, I've been reading Worm for like six months now and I don't update that often, but throughout this read I've been the KingBob to Brian. It's gotten to the point where I actually took a few mental health breaks from reading Worm. I know a lot of people thought Brian was boring and dumb. I'm almost done with Worm now and I feel like the inclusion of Brian this story elevated it, for me, from a fun superhero story to something intensely personal, something that was almost a struggle to read. I know from spoilers that Brian's part in this story is almost over. He isn't my favorite character (Dragon) or even my favorite Undersider (Aisha) but I felt like I should write something before this is over. It wouldn't be an honest blog otherwise, as infrequently as I post.

But Kuno, you say. You're a 22-year-old white female engineering student. Why the hell is this the character you relate to?

For a collection of dumb reasons that add up to a large part of who I am. From the time I was eleven to the time I was about twenty-one, I had night terrors. Seven times a night sometimes, I dreamt vividly of the people I loved getting hurt, hurting me, getting killed, killing me. My students and pets melting in my hands. My mom and I clutching each other on the freeway as we're stopped in traffic, a terrorist approaching our vehicle with a shotgun. We don't make it. The dreams made life almost impossible. Seeing people during the day and being absolutely certain they would die before I saw them again. It didn't matter how many times I saw them come back okay. They never would.

I'm afraid of everything. Every missed phone call is a sudden death. Every text message brings terrible news. Every possible situation brings danger, but if my friends go, I can't let them go without me. Something could happen. They'd be safe as long as I could see them. If I was looking at them, everything would be okay. Some child psychologist I spoke to at a young age noted I was a "natural leader". To this day, I lead because I am a control freak. I am afraid of what would happen if I let someone else be in control.

Interlude 15 fucked me up.

My fatal flaw extends from this. I'm terrified that people will see me as weak. I dated a boy on my robotics team when I was in high school. I treated him like shit in public because I didn't want anyone to think I cared about him, even though he was my boyfriend. What would they think of me if they saw there was a person I treated as an equal? Horrible things. I became a better girlfriend to another boy, years later, because someone mentioned to me they thought I could be a good girlfriend, and that it was rough, calloused girls who were the weak ones. It was the perfect two sentences to convince me that for people to see me as strong, I had to be a good girlfriend.

In the We've Got Worm podcast, Scott and Matt always mention that each of the Undersiders brings the team down somehow, their inputs to every situation silly or stupid. I was confused. I always thought Grue's avoidance of conflict, always taking the slow, deliberate path, was the right way to go. Then I realized that, to many, this behavior indicates brokenness. Maybe they're right.

Yeah so I said I'd talk about the stick up Brian's butt in arcs 25 and 26. I don't think he has much to say for the rest of Worm so here we go. I'm building off a lot of what the WGW guys say, but I think I can take it a little farther.

So in arc 10 the WGW guys point out that Brian resists letting Taylor back on the team until the precise moment when it becomes apparent that everyone else wants her back, when he suddenly changes tactics to talking about how they "need her for offense". They make the imo correct deduction that this is because he's afraid of looking weak. Everyone knows Taylor likes him, so, logically, to be Stoic Leader Man he should want her to go away. He needs permission to want her back on the team. Once he has that permission, he is all for it.

I know that sounds convoluted but trust me as a person with exactly these issues this makes perfect sense.

Arc 11, Brian has still not decided to be Taylor's friend again. This is because she's on the team to be offense. Their friendship doesn't help nobody's offense. When Lisa calls him and tells him he needs to lay up on her, that to be her friend would be good, he goes directly to Taylor's house and declares them... best friends. Because Lisa has given him permission to do so.

I hope you're following because I'm aware this is stupid.

In arc 12, I'm gonna veer a little to the side. Let's talk about Brian's second trigger, just so that I can educate the public on exactly how this came around. Keep in mind that trigger events happen from a long period of a specific type of stress coming to a head. And that Brian's previous trigger happened from feeling like he maybe couldn't help Aisha for a long time, and then suddenly being hit with the fact that he definitely couldn't help her.

Arc 1: The Undersiders save Taylor who was saving them from Lung Arc 2: Brian punches Rachel for attacking Taylor Arc 4: Taylor gets blown up by Bakuda, Brian sits in her hospital room and stares at this for presumably a while Arc 5: Taylor looks like she's been hanged, having fought Lung again Arc 7: Taylor and Rachel are attacked by the ABB, Brian shows up late. Taylor is attacked later the same day by Sophia, Brian shows up pretty late. Taylor propositions the boy, he tells her he thinks of her like he thinks of his sister. I am 100% certain at this point, looking back, that this was an early indication that the second trigger process was starting towards a lack of ability to keep up with Taylor. He wasn't just saying he thought of her like he would think of her if they were related, he thinks of her like Aisha specifically, the one his power is attached to. His little brain is drawing the equivalences already. Arc 8: Broken spine, betrayal, yadda yadda Arc 9: Sophia attempts murder because it's Tuesday Arc 10: Brian pretends to not want Taylor to come back Arc 11: Brian does his now-classic "walks into room/why is Taylor injured/maybe she should not be doing this" routine Arc 12: Repeat of arc 11, except now he starts stumbling over her name. He tells her she should have let her people die. If there's a point onscreen when he realizes there might be something going on, this is it.

Point is, this has been stewing in the background since as early as arc 1 and as late as arc 7 but probably actually started in arc 4. It wasn't out of the blue, it was the logical culmination of the entire story's events thus far from Brian's perspective.

Arc 13: Yeah, you know what happens here. In the final chapter, he tells her he thinks about her too much, but even though he received a new set of superpowers and a vision from aliens telling him that he probably loves her, the vision is definitely wrong and he just feels like he can't keep up with her.

She's been attacked by everyone. Lung, Rachel, Bakuda, Sophia, Armsmaster, Leviathan, the Merchants, Mannequin. He doesn't want her to keep fighting, he feels he needs to be the one to do it. At the same time, he knows he's not powerful enough. No one power is enough to deal with all of these threats.

No single power.

But he doesn't love her. That would mean he was weak.

He doesn't even agree to have dinner with her in 15. He allows it to happen because Aisha set it up. She knows what's going on, and she has given him permission to have this.

Aisha had to be the one to give him permission because his previous powerset was for her, and now it doesn't work with her, either. At the same time as his second trigger was stewing under the surface for Taylor, he was losing his power's connection to Aisha because their powers didn't work together and he kept being forced to forget she exists. He had lived for her before, and being Super Big Brother was exactly what Brian wanted to be. Now, Aisha doesn't want to be lived for. She wants to be her own person.

Brian spends the next several arcs simply living for Taylor.

I strongly suspect that the side effect of Brian's power is that it makes him pathologically need to be 100% responsible for others. No matter how dumb everyone's plans are, he always has to be there. No matter how stupid it is, Coil told him being a villain will allow him to get his sister back. No matter how dumb it is, he tells Taylor she has to sit out running from the Nine in arc 13 because she might be tired. He pays for it.

Brian's powers will probably never actually allow him to get over Taylor Hebert. It's like Taylor and bullies. No amount of therapy or time will get Brian's shard to let the fuck go.

So when the girl whom you are physically incapable of not thinking about leaves and goes to prison and tells every single person on the planet exactly how weak you are, who goes to an even more dangerous situation where you cannot follow her, what can you do?

The only possible thing. Try your absolute damnedest to pretend you never knew her.

You walk out of that meeting with the most powerful people in the world because she is there. You go find yourself somebody else. Another girl. Taylor hated her little boobs? This girl has big boobs. Taylor can't stay away from violence? Cozen seriously appears to have never even seen a corpse.

When Taylor comes back, Brian greets her with the new girl on his arm. He tries to shake her hand. Time has passed. There's nothing between them any more.

The next day, Grue is presented with the choice of pushing back against Taylor and standing with the new girl, whoever she is, or supporting Taylor. He chooses Taylor.

Of course he does. The situation calls for it. The situation has given him permission.

#worm #parahumans #brian laborn #ward #kuno speaks #thanks for reading to the end #i know this was long and personal #talk to me about it if you want #please

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lizk77 · 5 years

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Ten Years

This was actually originally posted on facebook around the end of the year. It began with my need to share my experience with others. I saw a few of those ‘10 years ago’ posts where people post a pic from back then and a recent one side by side. I tried that and realized I don’t really look much different. But the last decade of my life has certainly been the most meaningful of my life. This is very personal and discusses physical, mental and emotional abuse so if that’s a sensitive subject for you please don’t read. This is why I’ve been absent from tumblr and writing for so long.

I would also say this is not appropriate for anyone under the age of 18 due to adult themes.

It’s been 10 years. A decade. The most difficult yet meaningful decade of my life. When I think back to the person I was 10 years ago, I am amazed by the woman I’ve become today. I stand here at the end of the most difficult decade of my life and I’m proud. Proud of what I’ve accomplished, my strength and everything I’ve learned.

I began this decade feeling nearly suffocated by grief. I was no stranger to grief, but the loss of my mother was like the spiritual and emotional equivalent of having the wind knocked out of you. Pure, utter devastation. I was overwhelmed by my feelings. The whole world felt like a strange, scary place without my mother in it. In the months preceding her death I had tunnel vision, I focused on taking care of her and Emily and didn’t allow myself time to feel anything. So even though I knew she was dying, it didn’t really hit home until after she was gone. I instantly regretted that I didn’t focus more on enjoying my mother’s last months on this earth. I carry that regret with me still today. I should’ve had her teach me how to make her spaghetti sauce. I should’ve written down the recipe for parsley potatoes that she showed me how to make once but I haven’t been able to duplicate since. I should’ve asked her questions. Questions about my grandparents, about my dad, about when I was a baby. I should’ve had her French braid my hair every night. I miss that the most. I should’ve asked her how to be a good mother. What to do when my child is up at 3am puking down the hallway, all over the bed and the carpet. If I should take my kid to the hospital when she has something stuck up her nose, or how high of a fever is cause for alarm. There have been countless instances over the past decade where I would have given anything to be able to call her for guidance and support.

Grief has been the overwhelming emotion guiding me the past 10 years. I’ve learned that grief never ends. It changes, at first the feeling of loss is so raw that you just don’t know how you’ll ever be the same again. Then, over time, it evolves into every emotion. Grief can be happiness, sadness, anger and frustration. It can encompass all emotions at once. There are times even now when I just feel the loss of her all over again and in that moment I’m devastated all over again. I struggled with a lot of things after my mother’s death. I am still struggling with my faith. I have been angry at God for the past decade, so angry that I have neglected the spiritual well-being of my children. I have yet to figure out how to let that go.

I’ve always considered myself to be a strong, independent person. Life made me that way. I’ve experienced enough death, enough pain, enough abuse. Not long after the death of my mother, I was lured into a relationship that provided security. Financial security, which I had never had before. But I lost my strength. For 7 years I allowed my strength and independence to be stripped away. I was broken, ashamed, nobody knew what I was going through. Hell, I didn’t even realize the full extent of it. I was blind to the damage being caused not just to me, but to my children. I told myself our security was more important than our happiness. I realized after a while that I was wrong, but by then I didn’t know how to get out. I was afraid of losing everything.

Then it happened. The one thing I always said I would never tolerate. And yet, I found myself wishing it would happen. Because then I would have a reason. I watched my mother suffer the effects of physical abuse many times while I was a teenager. I vowed that I’d never let that happen to me. But once I was tangled in the web of my own abusive relationship, I began to realize that there are types of abuse that far surpass the physical. Bruises, cuts, even broken bones eventually heal. And it’s so easy to say, “He hit her? What a monster!” The abuse is very evident. But when you’re subjected to the whims of a narcissist, it’s very different. Everybody thinks they’re such a nice guy. They project an image of being loving and caring and happy. But the truth is they are even more of a monster than the guy who beats his wife. For seven years, I merely existed in his world. I tried as hard as I could to give him what he wanted and make him happy. Nothing I did was ever good enough. My daughters and I walked around our house on eggshells, not wanting to poke the sleeping giant. I tried to be the peacekeeper. Tried my best to keep his anger focused on me and not my girls. I told myself I could take it as he backed me into the bathroom, up against the shower wall, screaming at me with his face inches from mine. Spit flying everywhere. He called me worthless, accused me of cheating, told me I didn’t care about my children or the home we built for them.

And I stayed. Because I didn’t know how to leave. I didn’t think I could take care of my home and children on my own. I wasn’t strong enough. I was weak. I wasn’t good enough. After all, that’s what he had told me for 7 years. The day after one of our fights was always surreal. He acted like it never happened. Told me he loved me and he just needed to get his anger out or he’d explode. Like berating me and breaking me down was no big deal. And I would stand there in front of him, bewildered. Amazed by how really fucked up he was. But I stayed. I kept the peace and I stayed.

Until that night. When he hit me, it was like he knocked some sense into me. I remember the look on my daughter’s face after it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as my baby looked at me with concern and asked if I was ok. I was not ok. Not at all. I saw myself in the face of my baby, saw the concern I felt for my mother all those years. And I drew strength from it. My mom would have been devastated to know what my life was like. I was her strong child, yet here I was broken and weak. I couldn’t let the same cycle repeat itself. I couldn’t let my kids grow up watching their mother being treated badly. I knew that if she were still alive, I would’ve gotten out sooner. She would’ve seen right through him. She would’ve known he was evil and I was miserable. She always did. She always knew. I used to hate that she was always right about my life and my feelings. But now that she’s gone, I truly miss her ability to tell me what’s wrong with my life. She always had a way of calling me out on my bad decisions. And she was the only one I listened too. The only opinion that really mattered.

So I decided to make a change. I called the cops and had him arrested. Then I went the very next day and filed an injunction for protection from abuse. He was gone. My oldest was already with her dad and my youngest went up north to stay with my aunt for awhile. I had two uninterrupted months to find myself again. I picked up the broken pieces of my life and focused on me. I spent time with friends. I went on dates. I lost a bunch of weight. I went out and experienced life beyond my couch. Gradually I began to feel like myself again. I regained my strength. But I also found myself grieving, once again. Despite everything I had been through, I missed my family. I worked hard for 7 years to build a life and it was gone. Of course I didn’t miss the abusive part of my relationship. But there were some things I missed. The feel of someone next to me in bed at night. Having someone to talk to about my day. Despite my decision to stay single and raise my daughters on my own, I found myself lonely at times. Sure I had been out on dates, but I told everyone up front that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I just wanted to keep things casual. Once you tell a guy that there’s really no way to take it back. Plus I had so much baggage. And I’m not talking about my kids. I’m talking about emotional baggage. I was a mess. I faked confidence that I didn’t have. Sure I was getting stronger, but healing takes time. How do you tell someone you just met that you just suffered through 7 years of narcissistic abuse? Without them thinking you’re totally crazy? You don’t. So I held it back. I tried to push it to the back of my mind and forget it was there.

It didn’t work. I decided to try something different. I talked about it. To everyone. Literally. Friends, co-workers, family, dates. Reactions were mixed. Most people were really supportive. Some were not. A lot of people just faded into the woodwork of my life at this point. They stopped texting me and returning my calls. I was upset by this at first, but soon discovered that letting it out was like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. It was helping me heal. I was growing stronger each day. I have to thank each and every person who listened, even if they had a negative reaction. My healing was much quicker because I let all those feelings go rather than bottle them up. I know, crazy, right? Here I am, the cold-hearted one who buries their feelings deep down, sharing all my feelings with pretty much anyone who would listen. And something amazing happened. I started to smile more. I opened up to people. I started being honest and upfront with people about my feelings. Sure, I’m still hurting and healing, but I really feel transformed. I struggle, I have stress and anxiety, mostly about my children and finances. But I am happy. I am confident again. I know I’m a good person and learning how to let go of all the bad feelings and negativity created by my situation. Some days are good, some days aren’t. Some days I feel strong and on top of the world. Others I feel weak and broken. But the most important thing I’ve learned in the past decade is how to pick myself back up, dust myself off and rise above.

I don’t know what the next decade has in store for me. I know I will continue to focus on my inner growth and raising my children. I will figure out how to be happy and how to struggle less. I will also focus on developing honest and loving relationships with the people I care about. Respect and loyalty and communication are my top priority. My focus has to be me and my children. We come first. I refuse to allow any of us to be mistreated or abused. I will settle for nothing less and surround my family with people who are genuine and who care. This is my goal for the next ten years.

It will be the best years of my life.

Tagging: @allaboutchoices @innerpostmentality @bobasheebaby @sirbeepsalot @darley1101 @desiree---1986

I’m tagging just a few people I know. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to read or reblog.

#not choices #personal #ten years #hiatus explained #long post

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Rising from the Ashes (17/?)

When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Remember that thing I said about a happy ending? They’re (and you guys) are getting one💜

Soon! I’m sorry to those I mislead! I didn’t realize that. Oops. They’re getting one when the story is over, I promise 😘

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @ultraluckycatnd @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64 @thejollyroger-writer @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells @blowmiakisscolin

“How does that make you feel?”

She cuts her head to look at Dr. Lawrence and the way she’s tapping her pencil against her notebook, the one where she most likely writes down “Emma Swan is crazy” over and over again. It’s what she would write down if she were her own therapist because damn, sometimes she is crazy.

“Isn’t that a little cliché to ask me how that makes me feel?”

She sighs, her shoulders heaving the slightest bit, and she rolls her eyes. She likes Dr. Lawrence. She really does, but sometimes all she wants to do is take that notebook and rip it into pieces. She’s been coming here for two months now, since late February, and April isn’t bringing her any new revelations. Not that she thought therapy would. She just wanted to talk to someone else who wasn’t so emotionally invested in her life, to talk to someone who won’t get hurt by the things she has to say. They’re not all great, and she’s only a little ashamed by that. That’s what she’s supposed to be working on though.

“It is, yes, but I think it’s a legitimate question to ask when you’ve been circling around saying that it bothers you that Killian hasn’t proposed yet.”

Her lips press together in a firm line, a sour feeling settling in her stomach and making it twist into something that has to be unnatural. Feeling this way has to be unnatural. “I did not say that.”

“Not in those words, but you did.”

She sighs again, unable not to, before falling back on the couch and rubbing at her eyes, most likely making her mascara run and create some kind of weird, smoky eye raccoon look. This is a really uncomfortable couch, the cushions almost like rocks. Shouldn’t the thing be more comfortable? Aren’t people supposed to feel comfortable in here? That’s a thing, right?

“I’m not,” she starts, not really sure where the words are going as she uncovers her eyes and looks up at the paneled ceiling. They should do that in the living room. It’d look nice. “I’m not upset that Killian hasn’t proposed. Us getting married has never been a top priority for us, you know? We love each other, and a piece of paper and a diamond ring isn’t going to make us love each other more.”

“But it is more of a commitment.”

“Technically, yeah. With the whole legal aspect and all. I don’t – I don’t know. I want to marry Killian. I really, really do. And I know he wants to marry me. He’s had a fucking ring for at least five months now, had to have had it for a few months before that, and he’s never asked me.”

“You’ve had a lot going on.”

She chuckles darkly, her stomach untwisting and sending that unpleasant feeling to her throat so that she feels like she could vomit all over the hardwood floor in here. That would probably be an extra fee that insurance doesn’t cover. “What? You mean like my dead ex-husband coming back from the dead, having to explain to him ‘hey honey, I moved on from you and am in love with your friend and can’t make you happy like that anymore. By the way, I realized most of our marriage was shit, but I can’t harbor any resentment toward you because you’re a hero and the father of our kid and have been through more bad things than I thought possible. Plus, you know, I did love you at one point and you’re a nicer guy now.’”

She finishes her words on a long breath, her shoulders releasing some of their tension, before she twists her head to the side and looks at Dr. Lawrence furiously scribbling notes down. Great, she’s probably going to get put into a mental institution now. Can her therapist do that?

Probably not.

God, she has got to get a grip.

And stop on the way home and get something for dinner so her mom isn’t forced to feed her when she picks Henry and Ada up from her house. Killian’s working late on some project with Robin that she cannot wait to be over. She swears that it’s aging him by ten years some days. He’s always so tired and stressed. Sometimes she wonders if he needs a new job, one that’s less stressful and reminds him less of his time in the Navy, but whenever she brings it up, he always says that he’s happy there and that the money is good. She believes him, but it doesn’t keep her from worrying about him and wanting to work on the stress that’s in his shoulders and between his brows.

Dr. Lawrence still doesn’t say anything, and for some reason this bothers her enough to make her keep going, to keep rambling.

“And I guess…things have calmed down now. It was like I was walking a tightrope for a long time, and I wasn’t allowed to trip or fall, you know? Because if I did, things fell apart. I had to be strong for Henry and for Ada. I had to be strong for Neal too. And Killian, even when we were going through that…even when we were going through that rough patch. But I failed, you know? I felt so lost and helpless. Sometimes I felt worthless, which is not an uncommon feeling for me but recently, it wasn’t a usual one. It took me a long time to get over Neal’s death, to get over being abandoned again, and Killian just made me feel so – he made me feel solid. Happy. Good. He was there for me when I felt like I had no one. He listened to me cry over my husband’s death. He listened to me cry over raising a baby alone. He listened to me. And he let me be me, which was something I didn’t have a lot.”

She smiles to herself thinking of it all, of all of the times Killian has been there with her and for her throughout the years, all the way back to them meeting in Oceania and him making her laugh. He’s always making her laugh.

“He’s my best friend on this planet. I can be myself when I’m with him, and he has held my hand through the shitstorm that have been parts of my life, even when I didn’t want to let him. I love him, you know? And I’m badass, by the way. Just thought that needed to be said. I’m badass and totally could have made it on my own, but Killian…with him I get to be strong and independent while also having that hand holding mine for comfort and support. He’s made my life so much better. He’s given me Ada, and really, he’s given me Henry too. So, yeah, I guess I am bothered by the fact that he hasn’t proposed yet. I’m worried that maybe he’s changed his mind again. I shouldn’t really. I know he loves me. He doesn’t let me doubt that. I just…I want to be with him fully. Hell, I want me to not have a different last name than both of my children. I want to marry him, and yeah, a part of me is worried that he doesn’t want to marry me, that everything with Neal has made our entire relationship be altered.”

Once the words are out, she knows that she can’t take them back. She doesn’t want to take them back. This is…this is her life and her emotions and she needs to feel them. It feels really good to say all of that, and honestly, she wants to say more. She wants to talk more about Killian and more about Neal. She wants to go back to what they were talking about last week and how Neal’s moving has affected everyone, especially Henry. She wants to talk about how terrified she is being a parent and putting her kids in such stressful, life changing situations.

She wants to talk.

But the clock on the wall says she only has ten minutes left, and she figures that Dr. Lawrence has to have something to say or else she’s been writing on that notepad for nothing.

She reaches up to wipe her eyes, to wipe away the tears that have been furiously falling without her permission before her hand lands on her pendant. She’s going to have to make herself look less puffy. She doesn’t even remember when she started crying.

“I think Neal coming back has altered your relationship,” Dr. Lawrence begins, and Emma sits up on the couch, straightening out her shirt and her back as she sniffles. “How could it not? Besides the emotional trauma and joy of having him be found alive, it’s completely changed your life. You and Killian are no longer parents to Henry alone. You share that responsibility even if the two of you carry the load. Your ex-husband is no longer a dead man. He’s a real human being with thoughts and feelings that aren’t always going to be perfect, so you have to adjust to that too. For as much change as you’ve been going through, Killian has been going through something too. You have to give him the emotional time to adjust as well because while I don’t know the man, I do know that he cares about you and is probably putting your feelings above his.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe Killian thinks that you’re not ready yet, that he thought you were still going through too much emotional upheaval until you two talked about it a bit – ” she looks down at her notebook, eyes seemingly searching for something “ – two weeks ago.”

Ah, so maybe she does actually pay attention.

“Does that really count as talking, though? I literally just hinted around at it.”

She smiles. “But it’s a start.”

-/-

“Henry, you have got to put your shin guards on so that we can go.”

“I can’t find them,” he shouts back over the railing.

“Of course you can’t,” she mutters to herself, rolling her eyes a bit as she looks down at Ada who is currently banging her hands against the wall and giggling to herself. Kids are so damn weird sometimes. She doesn’t understand what the purpose of banging her hands against the wall is, but if she’s about to have to go upstairs and help Henry find the rest of his soccer uniform, she can’t leave her down here by herself despite how much baby proofing they’ve done.

Her entire house is metaphorically wrapped in bubble wrap, and Ada still manages to find ways to nearly kill herself just by exploring.

This is terrifying.

How is Killian not back from his run and the grocery store yet? He’s already supposed to be here so they can go to the fields together like they’ve done every Saturday this spring. He already missed their usual breakfast, so he really needs to show up soon. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or there was some kind of freak watermelon accident and there are watermelon all over the road. Or maybe he ran into someone he knows. She doesn’t know, and even though she really shouldn’t be angry at him right now, she’s had a bad morning and needs him.

And she misses him. He’s here, always right here, but he’s felt so distant lately, so far away. She felt so good after her therapy appointment on Tuesday, like she was ready to talk to him and finally fix things and have all of her emotions centered, but she’s barely gotten a chance to talk to him in the three days since. Both of their jobs have been busy, the kids have been insane, and then she had to deal with Neal cancelling his trip into town this weekend. She understands, really, but Henry understanding is different. He misses his dad, and if the hour long phone call last night is any indication, Neal misses Henry too.

Her life is a constant ebb and flow of being all together and all falling apart.

No, her life is good. She’s just been stressed the past few days. That’s all.

“Come on, bug,” she sighs, stepping toward Ada and picking her up, wondering when in the world this kid got so heavy. Ada lets out what has to be an actual, blood curdling scream and starts thrashing around while Emma carries her up the stairs. “Ada, shhh, it’s okay. We’re just going upstairs. You don’t have to have a meltdown.”

That somehow only makes things worse, the cries going up another decibel, and she resigns herself to this as she walks down the hallway into Henry’s room. There are clothes scattered everywhere, his notebooks spread across the floor. When in the world did his room get to be such a mess? He has to clean that tonight or tomorrow. It cannot stay like this.

“I can’t find them,” he whines again, tossing a pair of shoes out of his closet, the pair of converses landing on one of his books.

“Have you checked in your bag?”

“That’s the first place I looked.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he shouts, coming out past the doorway and running his hands through his hair, yanking at the brown strands. “Why is Ada so loud? Make her stop.”

“I’m trying, kid.”

“Try harder.”

“Hey, no,” she says sternly, trying not to yell to escalate the situation, “you do not get to tell me what to do, especially not being loud and harsh like that. I understand that you are upset and can’t find your shin guards and that your sister is being really loud. I get that. I don’t like it either, but yelling isn’t going to solve any of our problems.”

“Ada is yelling.”

“Henry,” she sighs while Ada lets out another loud cry. Shit, this is not a good day. It’s not even ten in the morning yet. “Ada is a baby. She can’t really talk. You know this. I’m going to text your dad and ask if he knows where your stuff is.”

“How would my dad know if he doesn’t live here anymore?”

Her stomach drops for a moment before she realizes that she used the wrong term for Killian. It’s usually not confusing, but sometimes it’s so easy to slip up like that.

“Your daddy,” she corrects. “I’m going to text your daddy.”

“Killian is not my daddy. He’s my step dad.”

Her stomach really does drop then, a heavy anchor weighing her down and making it nearly impossible for her legs to stay steady and her arms to stay strong against a still wailing Ada, even if her cries are beginning to calm down. What did…what did Henry just say?

Why did he just say that Killian isn’t his daddy? She knew that sooner or later he’d feel too old to call Killian his daddy, that he wouldn’t always call him by the name he started calling him when he was five, but he’s not supposed to be calling Killian his step dad. Yeah, that’s pretty much what he is, technically, but that’s also not what he is. He’s his dad. He’s the man who raised him, and Henry should never think otherwise when that used to be all he knew.

“Where did you learn that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Henry.”

He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest while his lips curl downward. Does she have the most dramatic kid in the world? Probably not. But he seems to be going for that title today. She’s just waiting for him to start crying or throwing things. Or hopefully not throwing things. That would be a disaster.

This day is kind of a disaster.

At least she hasn’t gotten to the point where she has to take away Henry’s games yet.

“My dad told me that’s what Killian is.”

Motherfucking hell.

She’s going to start crying.

And throw something.

Maybe throw Neal. Definitely throw Neal. He’s bigger than her and hundreds of miles away, but she could get it done. She could. Absolutely. All of those stories about mothers raging to protect their children – one of those is going to come true after she figures out what the hell is going on. Neal wouldn’t have told Henry that. He wouldn’t have. But then why would Henry have said that? He obviously knew he wasn’t supposed to tell her before she pushed him into saying it, so he was probably trying to protect his dad.

But why would Neal have told Henry that in the first place when they explicitly told him over and over again that this is how their family situation works?

It must be some kind of misunderstanding. It has to be. Neal wouldn’t do that, and if he did, it has to be a mistake, a slip of the tongue. She’ll call him later and get it all straightened up. It’ll be fine. Right now she really just has to focus on Henry and this situation and getting him to his soccer game.

Swallowing the gulp caught in her throat, she puts Ada on the ground, figuring that’s probably all that she wants to stop this crying, and squats down so that she’s at eye level with Henry, reaching up to brush his hair off of his forehead while he stares at her with those watery chocolate brown eyes.

“Kid,” she whispers quietly, curving her lips into a small, hopefully reassuring smile while she keeps pushing his hair back, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Henry nods his head up and down, his little shoulders heaving while Ada has managed to make her way to Henry’s bed and is holding herself up on it. At least she’s not banging on the door.

“Killian is your daddy. You can call him Dad if you want to, if you feel too old to be calling him Daddy. That’s okay. You are a very special kid, and like I’ve told you before, you get to be lucky enough to have two dads who love you and care for you more than anything in the world. Not every kid gets that like you do.”

“But Dad told me when we were on the phone that Kil – that my daddy is my step dad. Like how Ella has a step mom.”

She doesn’t know how to explain this. It was easier when Neal was dead, which is a horrible thing to think. But Henry understood it much more easily then. He embraced it more. Now he’s older, though, and has an entirely different situation for his life.

She wishes Killian were here. He’d help and know what to do and know what to say despite the fact that this would break his heart even more than it’s breaking hers.

“It’s…it’s grown up things. I,” she sighs, running her free hand through her hair and trying to think while her thighs begin to ache from this position. “You know how when we told you about Ada being born, we told you it was because Mommy and Daddy loved each other and that helped to make her?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, back when your dad and I were married, we loved each other and made you so that we could love you.”

“I know.”

She smiles at him again, making sure that her eyes don’t leave his except to glance over to Ada as she plops down on the ground and starts messing with some of Henry’s books. Thank God she’s stopped crying. That was miserable. Her entire life was about to implode in the span of five minutes.

“But then your dad disappeared, and I didn’t have him to help me love you or me anymore. But your daddy came along and he fell in love with me and with you. And he was around to help you learn how to walk and talk, just like he is with Ada. He took you to the pool to go swimming and to the playground. He went to all of your school plays and all of your birthday parties. He tucked you into your bed at night and read you stories, and he’s spent so much time loving you and me and your sister that I don’t think we can even imagine how much he loves us.”

Henry nods his head, and she desperately hopes that he understands. She doesn’t understand how to explain this without scarring Henry for life about sex when he is so not ready for that. She knows that some parents are fully open with their kids about things like that, but it’s not her parenting style.

“So he and my dad are the same?”

“Y-yeah,” she sputters, knowing that she needs to attack this conversation with a better plan later but thankful that things have seemed to calm down. “They’re the same. They’re both your dads, and they both love you so much that I bet your arms don’t even stretch out that far.”

Henry sticks out his arms to test the theory out, and she can’t help but chuckle at that. He has such childlike innocence and faith for someone who keeps having his life changed and uprooted, and even though she still feels like a frayed wire right now, she knows that she has a set of good kids in her life.

Leaning forward, she wraps Henry up in a hug and holds him as tightly as she can without smothering him. He hugs her right back, and she feels a little of the lead that’s in her stomach dissipate.

“Come on,” she says as she pulls back, “we’ve got some shin guards to find and a soccer game to go to.”

They find the shin guards in the kitchen of all places, and even though they have to practically sprint across the fields to get to his match, they make it in time. She knows a lot of the other parents there, a lot of them have kids in Henry’s class, but she prefers to sit under this tree in the shade with Ada. It’s at the corner of the field, so she still has a clear shot of Henry and he does of them.

Emma: Where are you?

Emma: We’re already at the fields. Hope you get here soon!

Emma: We’ve had quite the morning. Can’t wait to tell you about it later.

She puts her phone down on the blanket and pulls Ada back to her so that she can adjust her hat on her head, making sure she’s totally shaded while she slathers more lotion on her.

“Mama,” Ada babbles, grabbing at her necklace with enough force that she could snap it. Emma has to immediately grab Ada’s hand and move it away before twisting the necklace around so that Ada can’t see the diamonds. “Mama. Mama. Mama.”

“What?” she laughs, scrunching her nose up when Ada tries to grab at it too. “Baby, you’re driving me crazy today. Nothing makes you happy, and you’re going to either rip my nose off or break the necklace your daddy gave me.”

Ada giggles at that, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and Emma can do nothing more than shake her head as she continues to get Ada’s arms with lotion. She’s wearing a United jersey with Jones written across it that Killian got her. He’s so extra sometimes, and this is a prime example of it.

She kind of loves that.

Plopping Ada down on the blanket in front of her, she snaps a picture of her back with the soccer field in front of her, and sends it off to Killian, hoping that he’ll answer this one since he hasn’t answered any of her other texts and calls. She’s trying to ignore that and convince herself that it’s fine, but there’s this weird, sinking feeling that’s stayed with her all day. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe it’s something else entirely.

Emma: Henry’s number one fan!

The rest of Henry’s game (or is it match? She’s really not sure.) goes by pretty quickly. He’s at the age where the kids are actually pretty competitive, so it’s not so much all of them running around and kicking balls in the wrong goal as it is them legitimately trying to win the game. Not quite as cute as it used to be, but Henry likes it. That’s all that really matters.

“Did you see me kick that goal?” Henry gasps when he runs over to her after the game, his hair covered in sweat and grass stains covering his knees. “It was awesome.”

“It was awesome,” she agrees, holding her hand up for him to high five him before holding Ada’s hand up so that she can do the same, even if it’s not with quite the same impact.

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He got called into work,” she lies, not too sure how to handle this situation. That seems to be happening a lot lately. “He’ll be home later, though.”

The smile that was on Henry’s face instantly fades, the upward curl twisting down. “He didn’t see my game?”

“No, kid. He didn’t. But he wanted to.”

“He promised that he’d come to all of my games.”

“I know,” she laments, bringing him into her side. Poor kid. Both of his dads have bailed on him this weekend, and she knows that if it’s just today, it won’t mess with him too badly. But if it’s…if it keeps happening, well, it can’t keep happening. She won’t let it keep happening. “But sometimes things happen that make us break our promises. I’m sure your daddy is so sad about not getting to see you score that goal.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighs, his shoulders sagging forward as she starts to pick up all of their stuff so they can walk to the car.

It doesn’t take long even navigating through all of the kids and parents, and soon enough she’s driving out of the soccer complex and on her way home with the kids so that Henry can get showered and Ada can take her early afternoon nap. The music cuts off in the car as a phone call comes in, and she hits the button on her steering wheel to accept Neal’s call, leaving it on speaker since he’s probably calling for Henry anyways. Good. If he can’t fly home this weekend because of work then at least Henry will have this.

“Hey, Neal,” she greets, pulling up to a stop light and inching closer to the car in front of her.

“Hey, Ems. How are you?”

“Good, good. We’re on our way home from Henry’s soccer game. Kid, why don’t you tell your dad what you did today?”

“I scored a goal,” Henry shouts from the backseat, his voice far too loud. “It was really cool. Avery kicked the ball to me, and I kicked it right past the Dragons’ goalie. She couldn’t stop me.”

“That’s awesome,” Neal laughs. She can practically imagine the smile on his face, and it makes something in her heart settle thinking of how much Neal is here for Henry even when he’s physically away.

-/-

“Come on, Emma, push.”

“I can’t,” she cries, holding onto the handrails over the bed while a contraction roars through her body, making all of her limbs shake as she feels herself shutting down, feels her will to keep going fading. “I can’t do this by myself.”

“I am right here, Hon,” one of her nurses soothes, holding onto her hand even though Emma doesn’t know her name. She should know her name. She’s the woman who is by her side while she delivers her son. If she’s the only one going to be here, Emma should know her name. It’s too painful to ask. “You’re doing just great. So is your baby. His heartbeat is so strong, yeah. He gets that from you.”

“He’s okay? He’s still doing okay? This isn’t – this isn’t hurting him, ah, too much?”

Her nurse squeezes her hand, holding on tightly as she watches people move between her legs. She’s officially had her vagina stared at by more people than she ever thought would stare at it, and even though she doesn’t want to think about that and what’s happening right now, it’s all that she can focus on.

If she doesn’t, she’ll think about Neal.

He should be here.

He should be here holding her hand and helping her through this.

He should be here to hold his son when he’s born.

He should be here.

But he’s not. He can’t help it. He’s training. This is what he has to do. This is his job. He’s helping so many other people, and that’s what she has to remind herself. That’s what she has to keep repeating over and over again as she suffers through labor. Why did no one tell her how much this hurts? They did, but it was in broad terms. It wasn’t like this. It was never described like this. Everyone always glossed over it and told her that it would be all over and she’d have her baby in her arms and that everything would be okay.

How is this okay?

How is any of this fucking okay?

She’s by herself.

She’s alone and has no one here but this nurse who she still doesn’t know the name of to help her. Neal isn’t here. Ruth isn’t here. Neither is David. Or Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret would be good at helping here. She’s been through this. She’s so soothing even when she’s annoying and pushing all of her opinions on Emma.

She doesn’t even have any friends here. All of her friends are mostly Neal’s friends, and she doesn’t know any of them well enough to ask them to be here.

Why didn’t she make more friends? Why didn’t she keep some of hers from freshman year? She had friends, didn’t she? She had people she talked to and got lunch with. She knows that she did. She had to.

She’s been alone for so much of her life, but right here, right now, is the last place she ever thought she would be alone.

She can’t do this. She can’t. It’s too much.

Maybe she’s not meant to be a mother.

She can’t be one.

How could she when she didn’t have one for most of her life?

“I can’t be a mother,” she cries, tears stinging hotly behind her eyes while her contraction begins to wane. She knows it’s only a brief moment of reprieve. Her son is almost here. She knows that he is, that has to be. She’s been suffering in here for too long for him not to be here soon. She needs him to be here. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, Sweetie,” the nurse promises her, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. Neal always does that, and it’s so damn soothing. She misses him. He should be here. She can’t stop thinking that. He should be here. “You can be a mother. It’s just scary right now, but you’re doing great trying so hard to help this boy come into the world.”

“But I’m alone,” she whispers, the words barely escaping her lips before they get captured by a sob, one that moves her shoulders and makes her vision completely blur.

She’s alone.

She thought she finally wouldn’t be, but she is. She’s alone and terrified.

But she’s been alone for most of her life, and the sad truth is that she knows how to deal with it. She knows how to deal with handling things by herself, how to deal with pain and happiness, with loss and with celebration.

She knows.

So she can do it. She can get through it. She has to.

She can be a mother.

She can be a mother for this kid. Maybe even for herself too.

Her eyes haven’t seen this kid outside of a black and white picture. Her hands haven’t felt him move except for the hard kicks to her ribs that have taken her breath away. Her arms haven’t held him except when she’s cradled her bump at night.

She doesn’t know anything about this kid, but she knows that she loves him. She knows that she wants to be his mom and to be there for him for every day of his life.

She knows.

This is her son, and she can do this.

And she does.

Even with the epidural, it’s possibly one of the most painful things she’s ever experienced, and she knows that doesn’t go away anytime soon. All of the books told her that about the recovery. But there was no way they could tell her the pure joy that she feels holding this red, squirmy baby in her arms. He’s beautiful. He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen in her life, and she made him with her body.

She and Neal made him.

They’re parents. They’re freaking parents.

She can’t wait to tell him, to let him know that his son is here, but right now all she wants is to spend time with her boy, to get to hold him and never let go.

She’s never letting go.

“Hey, Henry,” she sighs, rubbing her finger across his cheek while he looks up at her. He has Neal’s nose. She always thought people who could tell who a baby looked like when they’re born are crazy, but her kid has Neal’s nose. “I’m your momma. I am. You are so precious, and I love you so damn much. I’m pretty sure you don’t understand what I’m saying, so that curse is just between you and me, okay? Yeah? Just between you and me. Your daddy never has to know.”

“You did a great job,” her nurse sighs as she stands at the door. “That’s a good baby with a healthy mom.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, leaning her head back against the pillow. It feels so comfortable, but she’s not ready to go to sleep quite yet. “It really means so much to me to have had someone to hold my hand throughout all of that.”

“It’s certainly not a problem.”

“Hey, what’s your name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before. I was kind of busy.”

“Ingrid.”

“Thank you, Ingrid.”

Ingrid walks out of the room, and she turns all of her attention back to Henry and the roundness of his eyes, the dark lashes. He’s so bald, but he’s got this one little patch of dark hair. He’s beautiful. Just beautiful. And not crying, which she thinks she likes most of all.

“I think you and I are going to be good friends, kid,” she tells him, letting him grasp onto her finger. “Like, you eat food from my boob, so it’s pretty much a given that we’re going to be close. Just saying. My body has gone through a lot for your existence, and I expect some good mother’s day gifts someday. Your daddy knows what I like. Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet your dad. You’re going to love him. He’s so funny. I bet he’ll make you laugh all of the time, yeah? But not as much as me. Don’t tell your dad, but I’m so much funnier than him. He has no idea.”

Throughout the rest of the day, nurses and doctors come in and out to check on both she and Henry. She knows that she takes a lot of naps, but it’s all a bit of a blur for her as some of the pain starts to kick in and she struggles getting Henry to eat. Once he does, though, she feels like infinitely less of a failure. It’s a weird feeling, being so devastated by something that’s really not in her control, but she has to keep reminding herself that she’s not going to be perfect at this and that things are going to go wrong. Hell, so many have already.

But Henry is here and healthy, and that’s all that matters. That’s always been what matters.

“Thanks for making me not be alone anymore, kid.”

-/-

Neal and Henry talk for the rest of the ride home, but really, it’s mostly Henry going on and on about his game and saying the same things several times while Neal pretends it’s brand new information to him. When she pulls into the garage, the door shutting behind them, she switches the call to her phone so that she can talk to Neal for a little bit while she sends Henry inside to take his shower, hoping that he’s actually going to wash himself instead of simply standing under the water.

“Thanks for calling him today,” she tells him as she rocks Ada back and forth in her glider, hoping that she’ll fall asleep soon and not have another meltdown. “It was kind of a big day for him, and you have no idea how much that means to him.”

“Of course. He’s my kid. Just because I’m not at home anymore doesn’t mean I’m not going to be there for him.”

Her heart lurches, practically dropping to the pit of her stomach, and she has to hold back the tears that are threatening to push through. That’s literally all she’s ever wanted since the day Henry was born.

“That’s good,” she sniffles, adjusting Ada in her arms. “You’re a good dad. You’ve done such a good job adjusting to being a parent to an eight-year-old who likes to talk back and who you can’t just cuddle with to make them stop crying.”

Neal hums on the other end of the line. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You sound a little upset.”

“I – ” she begins, almost ready to spill all of her thoughts to Neal, but she bites her tongue to hold herself back. She’s not about to share how upset she is with Killian with Neal. That’s pretty much asking for disaster. She knows that they have a good relationship, a good friendship, but they’re not the kind of exes who talk about their love lives with each other. Not in graphic detail. They talk about Henry and the movies and old times. She doesn’t tell him her intimate thoughts, not anymore. “It’s been a long day. The kids had me about ready to pull my hair out.”

“Killian didn’t help?”

“He got called into work,” she lies, telling Neal the same one she told Henry earlier. Killian will call soon. He has to.

Neal clicks his tongue.

“What?” she asks, watching Ada’s eyes flutter closed.

“Nothing.”

“It’s obviously something, Neal. I know you. You click your tongue when you have something to say.”

“It’s just that, well, shouldn’t Killian be around for Henry’s soccer game?”

“Sometimes things come up.”

“That’s still a shitty thing to do.”

She huffs, all of that anger from this morning returning as the memories flood back to her brain. How in the world did she forget that she needed to talk to Neal? It’s like she got lulled into some kind of false sense of security and didn’t even realize it.

“You missed his game today too, Neal. For the exact same reason.” She doesn’t know if Killian is at work right now, but that’s what she’s going with. Something must have happened for him not to be here. “And we are far too old to be playing petty games over who is being a better parent to Henry. By the way, where the hell do you get off telling Henry that Killian is his step dad?”

She can feel her voice begin to raise, so she gets up from the chair and puts Ada in her crib, hoping that she’ll fall asleep quickly. When she exits the nursery, she can still hear the shower going, so she walks down the hall and into her bedroom, moving to the bathroom so Henry will be less likely to hear her talk. She can’t begin to count the number of arguments she and Killian have had in the bathroom. They don’t yell too often, but she doesn’t want Henry to hear any of it when they do argue.

Neal still hasn’t said anything, so she asks again. “Why did you say that?”

“I didn’t,” he finally says, his voice completely even.

“Henry told me that you did.”

“He’s a kid. He says crazy shit.”

“He’s a smart kid who only says things when he’s learned them somewhere else. Just admit to it so we can talk about it. It’s already a tricky situation, so we don’t need it to get worse.”

“What’s tricky about it? He’s my kid, and Killian is pretty much his step dad. I mean, you two aren’t married, so not really. But I figured that made it less complicated.”

Less complicated her ass. Why is he being such an ass about this? This is not him, not anymore.

“First of all, he is Killian’s kid too. I have never let Henry think that you’re not his dad. You are. That’s something I’ve made a priority for him to understand ever since he was old enough. But you cannot take away Killian’s right to him as well. Killian helped me raise him, Neal. For most of Henry’s life, Killian has been Henry’s dad too. That doesn’t just change.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that I wasn’t fucking around to raise him.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You might as well have, going on and on about Killian this, Killian that. Fuck, Ems. He’s not the greatest man in existence. You don’t have to put him on a pedestal.”

“I don’t.”

“Please,” he scoffs, and she feels acid swish in her stomach, twisting around as she settles down on the countertop next to the sink, her legs like jello beneath her. “You so do. Ever since I’ve come back it’s been all about Killian and the life you share and the daughter you have, like our marriage was absolutely nothing to you. I bet you didn’t even consider taking me back.”

“What the hell is your problem today? I’m trying to talk to you about our son to make sure that he doesn’t get confused, and you decide to be nasty to me? No, Neal, I didn’t really consider taking you back. Life moved on. It changed. But don’t you dare for a second think that I didn’t go through hell trying to figure out how to deal with things when you came home. I nearly lost my mind trying to handle everything. I care about you. You’re my friend, and I tried my best. But there’s no way you could have expected me to drop everything to be with you when I spent years grieving you.”

“I would have done it for you.”

“Bullshit. I loved you, but you never loved me in the same way. I didn’t realize it at the time, but now I know.”

“I think you’re making a mistake being with Killian.”

“I think you’re making a mistake trying to talk to me about this when it’s really none of your business.”

“If it affects my son, it is my business.”

She scoffs, bewilderment inching its way over all of her skin, gooseflesh rising. How fucking dare he try to turn this on her, try to gaslight her. This is what he’s always done. He’s always tried to steamroll her like this. She thought he’d changed, that he’s tried to be better, so why is he being like this? He shouldn’t be like this anymore.

“You know what affects your son, Neal?” she asks, her voice cold even to her own ears. “His dad fucking with how he thinks of one of his other parents. No part of that is okay, nor will it ever be okay. Don’t do it again.”

She hears him say her name on the other end of the phone, but she hangs up before he can say anything else. He’ll call back. She knows that he will, but she’s done with that conversation. It was ridiculous, in every single way. She knew it wouldn’t be comfortable bringing up the whole step parent thing, but she didn’t think it would ever turn into…that.

What the hell was that?

Neal hasn’t talked to her like that since he found out that she and Killian were together. It was harsh, but she understood in a way. Now though, she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand why he would be rude to her life that, why he would try to make her think that she’s doing something wrong by being with Killian, to make her think that she’s a bad mother. It’s how he used to talk to her, but it’s not how the man she’s known as talked to her ever since he came back.

It’s not supposed to happen like that anymore.

All she wants to do is cry, but she’s too tired to cry. If she starts, she may not be able to stop. It’s all too much. Today has been too much for her, and she still doesn’t know where Killian is, what’s going on with him. In the back of her mind she thinks that maybe she should be calling hospitals to make sure that he’s not in one, but something in her gut keeps her from doing that. She does text Mary Margaret and David, however, hoping that maybe one of them will have the answer.

She needs to know, and worry is slowly covering each inch of her skin.

“Mom,” Henry calls, stepping into her bathroom.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Can you make me a hot dog?”

“Sure,” she sighs, giving him a watery smile and wiping away at her eyes. “Let’s go do that.”

The rest of her day is spent with her kids, trying to entertain the both of them with games and movies, even going outside to play on the play set for awhile. She never hears from Killian, and only Mary Margaret texts her back to say that she hasn’t heard from him and that David’s got a busy day at work and probably won’t get back to her until his shift is over. It bothers her, makes her practically sick to her stomach, but she can’t focus on it as she focuses on making sure Ada and Henry have a good day.

It’s what she has to do if she’s doing this alone today.

That night, after she’s got Ada in her crib, she walks to the next room over and into Henry’s. They both cleaned up in here a bit today, so she doesn’t step over any legos or sharp objects as she crawls into his bed behind him, wrapping her arm around his waist and holding onto her son like her life depends on it.

Maybe sometimes it does.

“What are you doing?” he mumbles, still flipping through one of his books.

“Cuddling with you because I love you so much.”

He squirms, but he still settles into her. “I love you too.”

“What are you reading?”

“Matilda.”

“That’s a good one.”

“I know. I like it. She has magic.”

She nods her head and settles it down onto Henry’s shoulder, reading behind him while he mumbles some of the words out loud. She doesn’t know how she got a kid who loves to read when she remembers hating it at his age, but she’s really thankful for that.

She’s thankful for Henry and how he changed her entire life for the better on the day he was born, how he brought magic into her life in a time that was so dark that even the stars seemed to disappear, blinking out one by one until there was no light left.

Except for Henry. He has always been the light.

“Did you know I love you?” she whispers to him.

“Yeah, you already said that.”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek and holds him a little closer. “It’s just that I love you and Ada so much that sometimes my heart can’t contain it, and I have to keep telling you so that you know how much I love you, how much I’ll always love you forever.”

“I love you and Ada too,” he says simply. She knows that he means the words, but they don’t have the same emotional depth that her words do. Good. He doesn’t need to feel how she’s feeling, like her heart is threatening to break into pieces over how much she loves him.

“And your dad and your daddy love you too. So much more than you even know.”

“I know. Mom, you’re making it hard to read my book.”

Emma chuckles, kissing his cheek again before she shifts out of the bed, figuring that she’s smothered him enough for tonight. Just because she needs to time with him doesn’t mean that he wants it. “In thirty minutes your light needs to be off and you need to be asleep, okay?”

“Whatever.”

“Henry.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Night, kid. Thanks for making me feel like I have real magic in my life.”

“Goodnight, Mom.”

She closes his door behind her and makes her way downstairs, quickly checking on Ada on her way. The house is quiet, only the sounds of the air conditioner running and the refrigerator making ice filling the space. Usually she’d crave something like this. She’d crave having peace and quiet and not having to worry about anything for a little while. She can fix herself a cup of hot chocolate and settle down in front of the television to watch whatever she wants. Those are the nights she craves sometimes, but now that she has one of those, she wants none of it.

All she wants is for this day to be over, possibly for this day not to exist. Frankly, it sucked, and she knows that not everything will be fixed when she wakes up in the morning. She’s still pissed at Neal. Like, if he were home she would probably have the urge to punch him pissed. She’s worried about Henry and how everything is impacting him. She’s already emailed Dr. Hopper today, but sometimes she’s worried that him going to therapy and them trying so much to give him a good life is not enough.

Sometimes she worries that she is not enough.

That she’s not enough for her children.

That she’s not enough for Killian.

He has only made her feel that way once in all of their time together, and she doesn’t hold it against him, not anymore. She understands everything that he was going through. But right now, today, she needs him, and he’s not here.

She falls asleep on the couch, and when she wakes, it’s to a twist in her neck and a twist of the front door handle, Killian coming inside as quietly as possible. At first, she’s relieved that he’s okay, that he’s home, but then she remembers the absolute hell that she’s been through all day without him by her side, without him answering any of her calls.

“Where have you been?” she whispers. She thought the words would be louder, harsher, but she finds that she can barely get them past her lips.

Right now she’s just relieved that he’s okay, that his heart is still beating within his chest.

“Why aren’t you asleep, love?” Killian asks her, stepping into the bright light of the living room so that she can see the red rim around his eyes. “You should go to bed.”

“I’d really rather know why you ignored all of my calls all day long.”

“I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Damn it, no,” she yells, this time the words coming out as she sits up further on the couch, “tell me now. I’m done being pushed around today. You have been gone. I have been worried. Henry has been worried, and you walk in here at two in the morning telling me that we’ll talk later. No, that’s not how this works.”

Killian nods his head while his lips press together in a firm line. He looks exhausted and like he’s been crying, and beneath all of her anger, she feels the worry for him that she’s felt all day. “You’re right,” he sighs, his lashes landing against his cheeks as he looks at the ceiling before his gaze finally finds hers. “I’ve got some things to talk to you about.”

#rising from the ashes #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fic

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initcne-arch · 4 years

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@consequntial asked : all of them :)

1. how does your character think of their father?? what do they hate and love about him?? what influence - literal or imagined - did the father have??

Darlene’s feelings towards her father are incredibly complicated. We all know that Edward Alderson is the scum of the earth, but pre-canon and during the timeline of the series, Darlene has no clue what he was doing to Elliot. She was four fucking years old when he died. So let’s start with her feelings towards Edward Alderson pre and during canon, yeah??

She has few memories of him, but they’re mostly positive memories. Darlene mentions a few times throughout the show that she misses him, she wishes she had gotten to know him better, “what happened to Dad fucked me up too”, etc. I’ve discussed this before--I think growing up Darlene really idolized her father. Again, because the few memories that she has of him are positive, she wasn’t aware of what he was doing to Elliot, and her mother was blatantly neglecting her and berating her and occasionally beating the shit out of her. In Darlene’s mind, Edward could have protected them from Magda. I don’t know if Darlene ever really loved her dad. I think she had an idealized image of him because her mother’s abuse was so much more apparent.

Which leads us into post canon, whenever Elliot decides to tell Darlene about the sexual abuse. Again, incredibly complicated. It doesn’t change the fact that for twenty-five years, Darlene wanted nothing more than for her father to be there protecting them, that for twenty-five years she had this idea that if he were still around, things would have been better. Not great, but maybe he could have saved them from Magda, who’s abuse is much rawer in her mind.

She’s furious with Edward. She hates the man. Despises him. She feels a tremendous amount of guilt for wanting him to be there. Realistically, she knows that she wasn’t aware of the abuse he was inflicting on Elliot, but she still feels guilty for wishing that he hadn’t died. She hates that their whole revolution was in his name. That they started all this to get back at the people who killed him. And those people needed to be taken down, just not for Edward Alderson’s sake. She hates that he had that influence on her. She wants nothing more than to beat him to death again with his own bones.

2. their mother?? how do they think of her?? what do they hate?? love?? what influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have??

Darlene hates Magda!! Hates the woman!! For all the shit Darlene has been through, she doesn’t think anything was worse than being in that house alone with Magda between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. She is, however, the only mother figure Darlene knows, and so she does regard Magda as her mother. Never mind the fact that Magda didn’t actually regard Darlene as her daughter. She loved to remind Darlene that they shared zero actual relation and the only reason Magda even “parents” Darlene is because she signed some paperwork claiming Darlene as her daughter. Darlene hates Magda for treating her and Elliot the way she did. She felt no guilt, no remorse over Magda’s death. It’s unclear exactly when Magda’s health started to deteriorate but Darlene sure as shit didn’t help out with getting her into memory care. Zero relation, remember, Magda??

As far as her biological mother goes, whoever she is, Darlene’s feelings about her are at a zero. Darlene doesn’t even know the woman’s name. Darlene was only a few months old when she dipped out of Darlene’s life. She does think about it from time to time--what is she like, what would have been different if she hadn’t left, does Darlene get her fire and anger from her or does nurture conquer nature??

3. brothers, sisters?? who do they like?? why?? what do they despise about their siblings??

Elliot!! Ultimately, Darlene loves him. They’ve been through thick and thin together. They work very well together. Both of them have a lot of their own unresolved shit that gets in the way of their relationship. Post canon they have a lot of work to do, both individually and between the two of them. Their relationship has ebbed and flowed over their lifetimes. Despite what canon says about them never being terribly close, I think they were close when they were younger, at least until Elliot was an older teenager. I seriously doubt that siblings who weren’t close would share the same bed or spend all day at the movies and arcade together or have goddamn code words with each other. Darlene was the only person who knew someone else was fronting from 2014-2015, the only person who knew her Elliot was gone. But they “were never close.” Bullshit.

I get the impression that Darlene used to take it upon herself to take care of Elliot, when she was younger. Make sure he was getting out of bed in the morning, making both of them breakfast, packing both of them lunches.

They grew up in an incredibly abusive and tumultuous household, each of them with their own unaddressed mental health concerns, and it doesn’t surprise me that they drifted apart as they grew older. Clearly, there was a period of time where Darlene attempted to rekindle their relationship, but it was too difficult and she ran away. It’s...a little more difficult to say if this rings true for Elliot as well, but Sam / the Mastermind blatantly admits that he’s treated Darlene like shit, that he’s been a shitty brother. I don’t think Darlene has always been the best sister, either. They’re never outright cruel to each other but again, lots of unresolved and unaddressed issues on individual levels. They aren’t always kind to each other. I do think Darlene idolizes Elliot to an extent as well, but considering he was the only person in their household who wasn’t absolutely awful, I can’t say that I blame her.

4. what type of discipline was your character subjected to at home?? strict?? lenient??

Inconsistent discipline. Depended on whether or not Magda wanted to deal with her on any given day. On Monday Darlene could get away with murder without Magda so much as glancing in her direction and by Tuesday, Magda would be slapping her for putting her dishes in the sink instead of the dishwasher. I’ve said before that based on Darlene’s behaviors as an adult, I’m pretty sure Magda was more emotionally / verbally / psychologically abusive and negligent towards Darlene than she was physically abusive but that didn’t stop Magda from smacking Darlene around from time to time. There was also a lot of restriction going on, like food restriction and medical restriction. For the most part, Magda just didn’t pay much attention to Darlene, and therefore, Darlene was not a well-disciplined child ( or adult, for that matter ).

5. were they overprotected as a child?? sheltered??

No. Again, Magda paid no mind to Darlene. She practically raised herself. Magda likely tried to shelter Darlene from things, given the woman was pretty staunchly religious, but since she didn’t want to be bothered with Darlene most days of the week, Darlene was free to do whatever she damn well pleased ( until those rare days Magda did pay attention. then there was hell to pay ).

6. did they feel rejection or affection as a child??

Big time rejection!! Starting with her biological mother leaving, someone who was supposedly genetically programmed to give a damn about Darlene. Then the woman who willingly married Darlene’s father and willingly adopted Darlene rejected her. Darlene was always kind of that weird, loud kid who no one really knew how to deal with, so a lot of her peers kind of left her alone, too. The only people Darlene really had were Elliot and Angela. They eventually had to grow up and start leading their own lives. As a young teenager, this certainly felt like they were cutting Darlene out of their lives. It was when those two went off to college that Darlene went really far off the deep end.

7. what was the economic status of their family??

Given the cozy little house the Aldersons lived in, they seemed to be upper-middle class. Edward obviously worked for e-corp for a time and I assume the pay there was decent. There’s no indication that the Aldersons moved somewhere else after he passed away. Perhaps the mortgage was already paid off. Who’s to say. Upper-middle class.

8. how does your character feel about religion??

Darlene hates religion as an organization--Magda was an Evangelical Christian and loved to shove that down her children's throats. Above all, religion was used to shame Darlene, and thus, she despises it, despises that people will blindly follow some invisible being in the sky and be so cruel to others on the basis of what their invisible friend in the sky allegedly tells them. Spiritulaity, she believes, is very individualized, and if people get some comfort from it, then good for them.

9. what about political beliefs??

Tag walls, punch fascists, eat the rich, fuck the GOP, ACAB, BLM, etc. etc. Money is the invisible hand puppeteering all of our politicians and influences just about everything. She’s one whole entire lef.tist-social.ist-anarchist. Next question.

10. is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted??

Darlene is definitely street-smart. She has to be, given her lifestyle. She’s a hacker and a con-artist--she has to be a smooth talker and she has to know her way around. She’s a pick-pocket, a lock picker, a smooth talker. She’s incredibly intelligent and quick-witted. Look at everything she’s accomplished!! She took down the most powerful people in the world!! Good for her!! I think Darlene could be book smart if she wanted to be, and I think she is to an extent. She talks about politics freely and clearly knows what she’s talking about when she does discuss them. There’s a certain amount of math involved with coding but she’s definitely not the scholarly type.

11. how do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated??

“I happen to be really smart and good at things.” Yes you are, baby.

12. how does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations??

Darlene speaks very casually. She’s not peppering all these flowy, prosy words into her daily vocabulary, and god knows this woman has some colorful language and is an artist in profanity. She doesn’t speak like someone who’s uneducated nor someone who is educated. She says what’s on her mind. She is quite articulate and she can have quite the silver tongue when the situation calls for it. She scripted a handful of fsociety’s videos and completely adlibbed one in the span of ten minutes, for fucks sake.

13. did they like school?? teachers?? schoolmates??

Darlene only enjoyed school when it was an excuse to get out her house. As I previously mentioned, Darlene was always kind of the loud, weird kid that no one really knew what to do with. She liked to be around her schoolmates but she didn’t like to get too close to them. Her teachers were fine. Her schoolmates were fine. None of them were influential enough for her to remember particularly well.

14. were they involved at school?? sports?? clubs?? debate?? were they unconnected??

Darlene was largely disconnected from school. She showed up often enough to pass her classes and graduate. Her after school activities consisted of ballet and getting high with others.

15. did they graduate?? high-school?? college?? do they have a PHD?? a GED??

She did graduate from high school. She completed exactly one semester of community college when she was nineteen, decided academia was absolutely not calling her name, and promptly dropped out.

16. what does your character do for a living?? how do they see their profession?? what do they like about it?? dislike??

Hacking and con-work. Darlene likes it well enough. She’s dead set on sticking it to the man. It’s also what she’s comfortable with. Darlene doesn’t like staying in one spot or doing one thing for too long. Maybe one day she’ll settle down and do some sort of freelance work--she did have a brief stint with freelance graphic design and she did enjoy doing that. She does desire some sort of stability. WIth how turbulent her life has been thus far, stability isn’t something she’s familiar with or comfortable with. So be gay, do crime.

17. did they travel?? where?? why?? when??

She skipped around the east coast when she was with [ REDACTED ]. That was mostly their decision, though. Running from whoever or whatever. Darlene won’t get into it.

18. what did they find abroad, and what did they remember??

If you ask her, she’ll say nothing. Darlene doesn’t run for the sight seeing. She remembers many nights in shady motel rooms and countless fights with her own personal Humbert followed by her running away from them again until they either found her or she either came back because she had no where else to go. Rinse, lather, repeat. That’s what Darlene saw while she was “abroad.”

19. what were your character’s deepest disillusions?? in life?? what are they now??

That everything would magically be better once she turned eighteen. Darlene was fourteen years old when Elliot and Angela exited stage left. At that point, she had this fantasy that when she turned eighteen, she too would go to college, maybe live with Elliot or Angela again, and everything would go back to the way things were when they were kids. Her brother would be okay. There would be zero strain on their relationship. Elliot would be the same person he was in when he was fourteen / when he was fifteen / when he was sixteen / before he quietly started to remove himself from the home more often and gently distanced himself from Darlene, perhaps for his own sake, because he couldn’t take her with him. That she would be the same person, that she wouldn’t be this jaded, cynical adult who quakes at the thought of someone getting to know her too personally. That Angela would be the same person.

Darlene is pretty grounded in reality. She fantasizes of a better world, certainly, but she did create some change in the world. Is that really disillusionment??

20. what were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced??

Repping the entire millennial generation here--Darlene has lived through a number of political catastrophes. 9/11, pandemics, the 2008 recession, and then she helped drive one of the biggest economic downfalls of them all with 5/9.

21. what are your character’s manners like?? what is their type of hero?? whom do they hate??

Darlene is like...make rude gestures at authority figures but tip your barista 20% every time and it’s not the end of the world if you have to wait 10 minutes for your food to come out. That pretty much sums up how she treats other people.

As for the second part of this question...it’s hard to say. She didn’t have a lot of great influences in her life. Her brother, certainly. Pre-canon and during canon, her father, but he has absolutely zero rights now. People who can look injustice in the eye and do something about it. The anarchists and the socialists. She definitely opposes celebrity culture and putting strangers on pedestals based on a public persona. So it’s hard to say.

22. who are their friends?? lovers?? ‘type’ or ‘ideal’ partner??

So Darlene very much needs people around her, because focusing on others is easier than focusing on herself, but when they get too close, she pushes them away. She doesn’t have many “friends”. She has acquaintances. She has people she sees from time to time in the same spaces. I think about the girls at the party she threw at Angela’s old place in 4x1. They’re not really friends, they clearly don’t know each other very well, but they know of each other and seem to hang out with the same circles.

And she doesn’t have the most stable romantic relationships, either. Canonically we see her with Cisco. We know she breaks up with him when he makes her mad and then she goes back to him. She hit him with a fucking baseball bat when he was sending her photos to Dark Army. Before Cisco there was humbert, an awful and traumatic endeavor for her. I adore dom.lene but that wasn’t a relationship, and they both have a lot of their own personal shit to work on before they could even play with the idea of a relationship.

I think Darlene’s ideal partner is someone who can match her intensity but has the ability to bring her down when she’s too intense. Someone who will call her out on her bullshit, but do it gently. Someone who brings out the best sides of her while also embracing her bad sides. Someone patient but firm. That’s a lot to ask for but Darlene is complicated and deeply flawed. At the present time, what Darlene really needs is to take a step back from everyone and focus on herself, because she is incredibly unstable in relationships and that’s simply not fair to the other person.

23. what do they want from a partner?? what do they think and feel of sex??

Again, Darlene doesn’t have the healthiest romantic relationships. She thinks she needs someone to take care of her so that’s what romantic partners are at her beck and call for. She wants someone around but only on her terms. As previously mentioned, what she really needs to do right now is take a step back and focus on herself. Go to therapy and what have you.

She enjoys sex for the most part, though obviously, that’s partner dependent. Her relationship with sex isn’t the healthiest either. It’s often used as a distraction or as a means to get her way.

24. what social groups and activities does your character attend?? what role do they like to play?? what role do they actually play, usually??

For the lack of close friends, Darlene is a social butterfly. She enjoys clubs, parties, hackerspaces, etc. She can often be found in the center of the room dancing with a drink in hand, until she’s completely overwhelmed and screaming at everyone to get out or hiding in an empty room until she calms down. Aside from these spaces, Darlene doesn’t really have any other social groups.

As a sidenote, I thoroughly enjoy that mid-credit scene during the season 3 finale where she apparently just strikes up a conversation with a random sex worker and they have a full blown conversation about politics and money while walking back to Elliot’s apartment. Darlene is very social, she does enjoy talking to people. She simply is not comfortable with people Knowing her.

25. what are their hobbies and interests??

I was joking the other day about how Darlene needs to get more hobbies and I still stand by that. She has ballet, and she still greatly enjoys that. It’s very controlled. It forces her to focus on one thing at a time. She likes that. She’s good at it. She does enjoy gaming to an extent, though she mostly sticks to Nintendo and portable gaming because she’s constantly on the move and simply cannot be expected to carry a PlayStation in her backpack. She would probably jive with some multiplayer online games. She had a brief stint with freelance graphic design and she still enjoys graphic design.

Darlene is big on the classic horror and sci-fi films and media. I do not think she has seen a single movie that has come out since 2005. She likes going to the movies, though. The movie theater was a comfort zone for her at one point and it still is.

26. what does your character’s home look like?? personal taste?? clothing?? hair?? appearance??

Darlene does not have a steady place to live. She couch surfs and crashes at different friend’s places. Thinking about her apartment that she was staying in during season 3 when the FBI had eyes on her, it was...deeply depersonalized. There were no touches of Darlene in there. Even with a semi-stable place to stay, she couldn’t be bothered to decorate the place, add some of her own touches. She left Angela’s apartment as is in season 4. She has zero attachment to the spaces she stays in and treats them as temporary, just like she treats most things in life.

Darlene’s sense of style, though?? Absolutely impeccable. There is so much of Darlene in her clothing, hair, and makeup. She’s got the cool grunge look going on for her. Thrifted clothes that she alters and upcycles, boots for stomping, tastefully wild hair, and dark makeup. Darlene takes great care of her appearance. It’s the one thing she does have, the one aspect of her life that she can control. When everything else is out of her hands, at least she can have kickass winged eyeliner.

27. how do they relate to their appearance?? how do they wear their clothing?? style?? quality??

Literally just said it--Darlene’s appearance is one thing she can control and she puts quite a bit of effort into her appearance. She’s very eclectic with her clothing!! She pulls off so many looks!! I love in 1x2 where she makes a whole outfit out of clothes from Elliot’s closet and it’s probably her most iconic look to date. She rocks that old, musty looking jacket that belonged to Magda. Darlene’s clothing is largely thrifted, partly because fuck fast fashion, partly because she doesn’t have a ton of money, partly because she tends to leave clothes behind when she moves and doesn’t want to waste money on anything crazy expensive when she knows it will likely get lost in one of her many moves. She largely wears dark and neutral colors but we see her in a few bright colors. I, for one, adore that cozy looking colorful sweater she wears after the heist episode. Goes to show how she can pull off pretty much any look.

28. who is your character’s mate?? how do they relate to him or her?? how did they make their choice??

She doesn’t have one. Maybe one day Darlene will settle down but I’ve said it several times already and I will say it many more times, she is taking the time now to focus on herself. She needs to.

29. what is your character’s weaknesses?? hubris?? pride?? controlling??

Yes.

Darlene has a weird dichotomy going on, where she’s both very confident in herself while also constantly seeking validation from others. She knows what she’s doing, she knows what she needs to do, but she thinks she needs approval from others before going forward with it. She is prideful. She is controlling. She desperately needs someone else to tell her it’s okay before she will do something.

30. are they holding on to something in the past?? can he or she forgive??

The great thing about Mr. Robot (2015-2019) is that it says you don’t have to forgive your abusers. You do not owe them shit. Darlene holds onto a ton of resentment for her mother, for humbert, for her father, for many other people who have wronged her. Maybe one day she’ll be able to let go, but she sure as hell doesn’t have to forgive them for what they did and how they treated her.

31. does your character have children?? how do they feel about their parental role?? about the children?? how do the children relate??

Nope, nope, nope, nope.

32. how does your character react to stress situations?? defensively?? aggressively?? evasively??

All of the above. It depends on the situation, who’s involved, and she tends to cycle through all three. In 4x6, I think, whenever Dom has Darlene at gunpoint in the bathtub, I think about how Darlene kind of cycles through defense and aggression and evasion. She screams at Dom, tells her where to stick it, but then she cowers and cries and says, “you don’t have to do this, it’s okay, you don’t have to do this, it’s okay, it’s okay, Dom.” It’s an incredibly interesting cycle to watch. Hell, even clear back in season one, when Vera’s brother and his other goon have Darlene in their clutches. She’s very loud and aggressive until they actually have her, at which point she falls silent. Yet when Janice has her and Dom, she’s pretty openly defiant. Calls Janice a cuntstick and, once again, tells her where to stick it.

33. do they drink?? take drugs?? what about their health??

Haha yeah!! As far as drinking goes, she’s more of a social drinker than anything ( although her little flask in season one absolutely kills me, what a legend--we don’t see her drink in private after that, though ). She does use party drugs ( ecstasy, acid, etc. ) but again, only socially. I don’t think she’s dependent on cocaine in the same way Sam / the Mastermind was dependent on opiates, but it seems to be her drug of choice. She’s strung out on it a few times through the series. She likes to smoke weed, and she’s a heavy cigarette smoker.

Despite all this, Darlene’s health is weirdly pretty stable. She has awful sleeping habits and nutritional habits. She smokes cigarettes like her life depends on it. She’s definitely at least a little underweight and could stand to gain a few pounds. She catches an occasional cold and she’s maybe had the flu two or three times during her life. She doesn’t have any chronic conditions though.

34. does your character feel self-righteous?? revengeful?? contemptuous??

She sure does!! When Trenton said, “You want momentary anarchy,” she was 100% correct. Darlene is incredibly vengeful and contemptuous. Her entire reason behind fsociety and 5/9 was to get revenge on the people who killed her dad and therefore made her life a living hell. She specifically sought out Susan Jacobs’ home because Susan Jacobs was the lawyer who destroyed her family’s case against e-corp. There’s another meta here somewhere about the absolute whirlwind of emotions Darlene goes through when she learns about what an absolute scumball Edward Alderson actually was but the fact of the matter is, it was retribution for his death that she initially wanted and that’s what drove initially drove her.

35. do they always rationalize errors?? how do they accept disasters and failures??

Yes. For her sake, I think she has to. She would absolutely spiral if she couldn’t rationalize errors. Again, Darlene doesn’t have a ton of control in the things in her life, and she has to be able to rationalize that.

When thinking about the second part of this question, I think about the buildings blowing up, and I think about Elliot’s reaction to that vs. Angela’s reaction to that vs. Darlene’s reaction, or rather her lack of reaction, to that. Elliot and Angela were absolutely broken up over it and Darlene was...not. This is a revolution and sometimes people die and it’s for the greater good. It’s not ideal, but shit happens.

36. do they like to suffer?? like to see other people suffering??

Hell no, but she doesn’t really know any other way of living. She’s not always having fun but she doesn’t know what else to do with herself.

Darlene does not like to see other people suffer. That’s precisely why she brought down ecorp, Whiterose, and the Deus group. Humanity doesn’t deserve to live in the shadows of evil rich corporations and to be controlled by a handful of the most powerful people alive. Darlene enjoys seeing those people suffer. Lowkey she had a blast fucking over Susan Jacobs the way she did. She straight up said so to Susan Jacobs’ face.

37. how is your character’s imagination?? daydreaming a lot?? worried most of the time?? living in memories??

Darlene is clearly very creative and quick-witted, which leads me to believe she does do a lot of daydreaming. She has the drive to make those daydreams a reality, though. She desires a better world for herself and for other people, so what does she do?? Co-founds a hacktivist group, crashes the economy, and then doxxes and redistributes the wealth of the most powerful people on the planet. With that being said, she is very grounded and present. She does have one foot in the past, but most of her energy is in the now.

38. are they basically negative when facing new things?? suspicious?? hostile?? scared?? enthusiastic??

Once again, for her own sake, she has to be enthusiastic about change. Darlene’s life is constantly in motion. She’s constantly on the move, jumping from one thing to the next. Things aren’t working in the world, things need to change with the world. For as cynical as she is, Darlene does enjoy experiencing new things and she is often hopeful that things will be better this time around.

39. what do they like to ridicule?? what do they find stupid??

Anything, everything, most things. She’s mean. Big April Ludgate energy over here, honestly. Darlene never hesitates at the opportunity to absolutely decimate someone or something.

40. how is their sense of humor?? do they have one??

Very dry and deadpan and sarcastic. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when she’s joking or being serious. She’s always saying something about eating the rich and guillotining the president and she’s both joking and being very serious. I have absolutely referenced this tik tok before, spammed everyone I know with it, and I will post it again because it is pretty much PEAK Darlene’s sense of humor. She absolutely has a spoof twitter account where she just @ Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Zuckie 24/7, I do not make the rules.

41. is your character aware of who they are?? strengths?? weaknesses?? idiosyncrasies?? capable of self-irony??

Darlene has a lot of self-awareness but she lacks the ability to make much change. She knows what her strengths are and she knows what her weaknesses are. She’s confident, but she’s prideful. She’s very sure of herself, but she craves validation from others. She makes jokes about all of her psychological dysfunction but she has very little insight into how off the rails she actually is. She knows she’s a bitch but she doesn’t care and she will remain that way, thank you very much.

42. what does your character want most?? what do they need really badly, compulsively?? what are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain??

It’s hard to say what she wants most. I do think Darlene craves stability. She’s not a stable person in really any sense of the word. At the same time, she enjoys the freedom of drifting from one place to the next. I think she wants a balance of that. The ability to do as she pleases while maintaining relationships with the people she loves. She’s only barely figuring out what she needs to do to obtain that. Therapy, for one, and actively working on her own shit, actively utilizing whatever coping mechanisms she’s taught, actively making changes to her lifestyle. She’ll eventually fall back into her ways of petty crime because she enjoys it and would rather perish than work for the man. But she wants to be able to do so without compromising her relationships anymore.

43. does your character have any secrets?? if so, are they holding them back??

Darlene keeps most things in her life a secret from others. You don’t ask, she doesn’t tell. Even if you do ask, she might not tell. It might not be as surfaced as Elliot, but Darlene is fairly paranoid herself and reveals very little about herself to others. She doesn’t own any credit cards and aside from her SSN and a driver's license, there’s little documented information on Darlene. Lord knows she’ll try and wipe her information from whatever database the FBI has.

44. how badly do they want to obtain their life objectives?? how do they pursue them??

She doesn’t have any life objectives, really. Traumatized individuals have difficulty comprehending the future and Darlene is certainly one of those people. She can’t make herself see anything more than a few weeks into the future because who knows where she’ll be in the next hour?? She very much lives in the present and takes things one day at a time. She doesn’t plan for the future, she doesn’t have any life objectives. Whatever happens happens and she doesn’t necessarily like that but again, she can’t make herself future trip.

45. is your character pragmatic?? think first?? responsible?? all action?? a visionary?? passionate?? quixotic??

Pragmatic, visionary, and passionate, yes, very much so. Think first, sometimes--there is a lot of thought, tact, and planning that has to go into programming and con work, but one has to be prepared for everything to wrong at the same time. All action?? Absolutely!! Responsible?? Fuck no. Quixotic, from time to time. Darlene’s a thinker and then she runs with what she has.

46. is your character tall?? short?? what about size?? weight?? posture?? how do they feel about their physical body??

Darlene is 5′5″ and weighs in at about 125 lbs. Average height but somewhat underweight. She’s quite petite and thin--if she wraps her hand around her wrist, she can touch her thumb to her pinky. She doesn’t have a lot of curves. She definitely has the posture of a ballerina. She holds herself very upright and the way she walks is very calculated. Her feet turn outwards slightly when she’s standing and when she walks, her steps are nearly parallel to each other.

47. do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person?? does they want to be visible or invisible??

I wouldn’t say Darlene wants to project an image as being younger or older or more important. She definitely wants to come off as powerful and intelligent. Frankly, she achieves that. But she does like to remain anonymous. She doesn’t need people knowing what she’s all about. She’s fine with being underestimated because it means people are in for an even ruder surprise when she completely destroys them, and she gets a lot of satisfaction from that.

48. how are your character’s gestures?? vigorous?? weak?? controlled?? compulsive?? energetic?? sluggish?

Definitely very energetic and grand, often times erring on the side of aggressive. That’s simply a condition of Darlene’s existence.

49. what about voice?? pitch?? strength?? tempo and rhythm of speech?? pronunciation?? accent??

Darlene is loud as fuck and good for her, honestly. She has very little volume control. Her voice can be shrill and it has the tendency to break when she’s overwhelmed or excited. She has a bit of that smoker's rasp, too. Her tempo is very controlled, though. She speaks at a pretty average pace, though she slows her speech when she’s being deliberate. There isn’t much to say in terms of an accent, though I still think it would be hilarious if she had a strong Jersey accent. There’s a lot of emotion in her voice and it fluctuates greatly.

50. what are the prevailing facial expressions?? sour?? cheerful?? dominating??

For as much as she emotes in the way she speaks, Darlene’s facial expressions are rather constricted, which is very interesting. She has a chronic case of resting bitch face and her facial expressions are rather subtle.

#Good GOD #┆❛ OUTGOING. / answered.rar #┆❛ SHE SAYS YOU DON’T WANT TO BE LIKE ME. / abt.doc #consequntial #y'all better read every single one of these this took forever #also u can tell i said massive 'fuck it' around question 45 and gave up

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yaachtynoboat711 · 5 years

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Fonder 5.1

A/N: I AM SOOO SORRY FOR THE HIATUS! I missed you guys. The secret’s finally out! The mystery of Mr. Gatsby’s identity is being revealed! There may be smut included in this chapter also. Thanks @babygirlofwakanda for helping me out with that! Lastly, the italics (besides the sounds) are Yaa’s inner thoughts. 😬😬😬😬😬 Reblog and like!

Word Count: Get your popcorn ready (~3.5k)

Warning(s): SMUT, slow burn, plot progression, introduction of a new character, few errors/typos

NEW YEAR’S EVE 10:34 p.m.

“I-I-...I don’t understand. It was you all along...but you’d just hopped in my DM’s right before I got here!”, Yaa attempted to collect the thoughts that had scattered on the floor.

Gatsby chuckled, “ Yeah, I know. It’s ok to be confused. I’m the last person you’d expect it to be, I’m sure.”

“So why me? All these fine Hollywood jawns and wannabe socialites rippin their own panties off just to get to you...and you choose the one non-celebrity on the other side of the country?”

Gatsby sipped some champagne as he listened to Yaa, nodding his head as he began mentally creating his response to her outlandish claim. He finally sat his fluted glass down on the desk.

“Not to sound like a creep, but ever since Tanisha told me about her bomb ass lawyer friend, I’ve had my eyes on you. Don’t worry; I haven’t been that close. I learned enough about you to still have many questions left over to ask you. You’re a complex and multi-faceted woman that deserves to be exalted. Plus, from what I’ve also heard, you’ve been eyeing me too. Why’d you think the riddles and passwords were how they were?”

He was right: she’d had her eyes, heart, and womanhood set on him for years. It began way back in the summer of 2002. Her almost 12-year-old self had no business watching anything graphic and raw, yet alone watching The Wire. Her parents encouraged to watch it surprisingly. Then it happened—he came on the TV. Though she hated cornrows, even in the early 2000s, she found herself head over heels for the peanut head with the cornrows—Wallace. She hated the fact that he was a teenage drug dealer but hell, that was life in the Pit. The season finale left her distraught, crying for days as though he’d broken up with her or something. She followed his work and had proclaimed her love for him for 12 years and now here he was—Michael B. Jordan—standing before her explaining how he wanted her. Funny how life works.

She burst into a fit of nervous laughter; he joined.

“What’s so funny, Yaa?”, Michael asked.

She subdued her laughter as much as she could. “I’m laughing because I know this has to be a drawn-out prank or some shit. The man I’ve been mentally dating half of my life isn’t in front of me right now, and he damn sure ain’t telling me he finna risk it all for me. Not against his own will at least.”, she stammered.

He raised an eyebrow at her disbelief. His shoulders bounced as his cocky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, you think this is a game? Hmm?” He kneeled down and lifted her chin for her honey brown eyes to meet his calming dark brown eyes. “Talk to me.”

She nodded her head yes. “Show me this isn’t a game.”, she challenged.

“Say less.”

He lifted her chin some more. He went in for the kiss—an offer easily accepted. Jackpot. There was a jolt of electricity between their lips. As their kiss deepened, his hands held gently her neck, lightly brushing against her coarse honey blonde locs. Her arms linked tightly around his neck. His hands scooped under her large ass, picking her up and causing her to break the kiss. Her eyes flew open as she began looking down at the floor. The second time she’d been picked up and the skinny nigga was the one on the cusp of changing her life. Her embrace around Michael’s neck tightened significantly as she braced for an abrupt drop.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, Michael teased.

“Last time I was picked up, I couldn’t dance for a month. You’re scaring the shit outta me.”, she sputtered.

There went that cocky,raspy laugh. Michael dropped her down and quickly caught her before she could get anywhere near the ground. “Oh, so you scared the skinny nigga can’t hang? C’mon now. You should know I’ve been waiting on you for a minute. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, baby girl. Best believe that.”, he reassured. With that being said, he walked confidently across the room to the couch with his scared thick lawyer in tow, carrying her 200+ pound frame like she was a bag of nothing. That Creed training made him a monster.

He stared into her eyes once again in awe. In such a simple expression, there was enough fire and passion in her eyes to light up the fireplace across the room. He slowly gave her lips more kisses, savoring them like the last of a 5-star meal.

“You got all of these sweet kisses, girl.”, he groaned, “Must’ve been saving them for a special reason or someone.” Not by choice, baby boy.

“I’ve waited for a long time for this”, she chuckled into his lips. Knock knock knock.

Michael’s head dropped and Yaa looked up into the dimmed lights palming her face, both clearly frustrated with the mood-killing visitor at the door.

“Who is it?”, Michael yelled as he re-adjusted his black double-breasted tux and bow tie. He walked towards the door, still awaiting a response.

“Me, nigga!”, the nearly hoarse voice replied defensively.

Michael smacked his teeth and opened the door. “The fuck you want, Steelo?”

“Mannnnn, it’s almost 2015! Folks lookin’ for you an- oh, heyyyyy how you doin’? I’m Steelo.”, he slurred. His attention was suddenly brought to the clearly annoyed Yaa.

“I know who you are. Nice to finally meet you.”, Yaa said.

He redirected his intoxicated “focus” back to his best friend. He’d recognized Yaa. “Hold up, that’s her?”

“Yeah, that’s Khalida, the lawyer. We’ll be out in a sec—”

“—YOOOOOO! She bad as fuck,bruh. Thick too? Niggggggaaaaaaa...I heard them fat jawns be changin’ liv—”

Without saying a word, Michael pushed his drunk best friend out the door like a dolly and locked the door. “Look, he’s drunk as fuck and I’m sorry that h—”, Michael apologized.

Khalida placed two fingers over his lips. “Fat isn’t a bad word. No need to apologize. Now, come on— we have a new year to celebrate.”, she replied.

Michael’s deep dimples and smile stretched across his face as he watched Khalida walk out of the door. “You comin’ or not, Gatsby?”, she teased.

11:09 p.m.

By the time Yaa returned to the action, there were more faces—famous faces—in the crowd. All in attendance were dressed to the nines with their CRISP finger waves, feathers, furs, pearls, and enough cigarette holders for an old Hollywood film. Yaa walked to her VIP section to find her best friend Tanisha lit off of her spirit of choice—Bombay Sapphire gin. Steelo and some of Michael’s other friends had joined her in the booth. Tanisha sashayed to her friend to greet her.

“BIIIIIIITCCCCCCCCHHH! Where the FUCK have you been?”, an impaired Neesh questioned.

“I was talking to Gatsby. You literally saw me leave. Second, I’m finna beat yo ass.”, Khalida yelled over the music.

Tanisha stepped back and put her hands up. “What for?”

“You know why. Gatsby ends up being my childhood crush?! Howwwww in the hell were you able to pull that off?”

“Sis...just know that I got the connect. Now shut up and drink--we gotta New Year to ring in.”

Without further protest, Yaa opened the new bottle of D’usse and poured it into her glass. A few glasses and three tequila shots later, she was feeling nice. Not drunk, but nice, tipsy at most. She’d stepped out of her shell of skepticism and began socializing a lot more.

During the course of the night, Michael and Yaa had been getting cozy with each other. They never left each other’s side. They exchanged flirty looks and “you goods?” When they weren’t refilling cups in the VIP section, they were deep in conversation, topics varied as their sobriety faded away. Then, it happened: his curious hand trailed northbound on her leg. Usually, Yaa would smack the taste out of any man’s mouth for feeling up on her, sober or drunk. But let’s face it: she was feeling him and it was obvious the feeling was mutual. She bit her lip and winked at him in response.

“So we just gon’ pretend like yo whole hand ain’t up my dress?”, Yaa playfully questioned.

“Yup.”, Michael replied with a grin. He was so proud of himself. “Finally able to get my hands on you.”

Yaa rolled her eyes. “Don’t getcha skinny ass hurt fuckin around.”

She got up, leaving him awestruck at her model-like walk.

“10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Gold and silver confetti and balloons fell from the sky. Cheers from every corner of the room paired with the popping of champagne corks. Yaa hugged Tanisha and kissed cheeks in celebration of the New Year. Yaa felt two taps to the right shoulder. Ready to curse, Yaa whipped her body around to see that the tapper was none other than Michael. He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed his smile, revealing his pair of ridiculously adorable deep dimples.

“I-uh...know we kinda just met like an hour and a half ago...but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind having the honor of sharing this New Year’s ki—”. Yaa grabbed him up by his lapel and kissed him passionately, yet drunkenly. She laughed.

“Happy New Year to you too, Kari. Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to call you that.”, she laughed.

1:47 a.m.

Thud. For all it’s worth, Yaa’s back as going to be sore for the next couple of days from the impact of hitting her back against her chest of drawers. She also couldn’t have given half a fuck about her neck or her back. Hell, sis was finally getting dick. The more violent her and Michael’s tongues were becoming in each other’s mouths, the more familiar their hands were becoming with each other’s clothes and bodies. Still focused on his Dom Perignon-flavored kisses, her hands anxiously searched for his belt. But before she could unbuckle his pants, the D’usse demon jumped out. She smirked seductively as she boldly grabbed his print and freed herself from his arms.

“Oh shit.”, he mumbled, “So, you nasty nasty.”

The devilish smirk she gave was all the response he needed. She slowly got on her knees and freed his dick from the constraints of his pants, licking its length on both sides. Her head bobbed to the beat of the music playing in her head. Watching her bob on his dick, he began undoing the bottom of her chignon so that the rest of her hair wouldn’t get in the way of his undoing.

Thud. His head went against the wall as his undoing was becoming apparent. He cursed under his breath and kept his bottom row of teeth tucked underneath his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. Yaa would have cared less for his current state. She continued to slurp and coat his rock-hard member with spit. Keeping eye contact, Yaa continued licking him like a melting popsicle. He growled to keep from moaning, along with a chorus of “Shit” being recited under his breath.

Forever came to an end as Yaa slowly got off of her knees. He helped her up, only to be blindsided by her sloppy kisses. She began walking backwards with him towards the king-sized bed but stopped at the edge of the bed.

He placed her on the edge of the bed. Michael kissed her lips gently and slowly began to make his way to her promised land. His kisses became wet as he made his way down to her neck—her spot. He kissed her collarbone tattoo, licked his way down to her large breasts, and paused at her nipples. With his hands now caressing her breast, he wrapped his tongue around her nipple and began sucking with enough pressure to make her moan. While he sucked on her nipple like a pacifier, Michael dropped his hand from hoisting up her other breast and began to timidly creep his fingers down her baby-soft skin and the scrunched fabric of her dress. Feeling his hand touch over her thigh, he began to aggressively pull up the bottom of her dress. There was a slight discoloration created on her skin from the irritation from the material being forced against it, but Michael didn’t stop until the bottom of her dress pooled around her stomach. Once he realized where the material had settled, he pulled his lips from around Yaa’s areola, fixating his eyes on her lower half. Quickly noticing that she was panty-less, he felt a smirk tug at his lips--better--he peered up at his flushed lover. “So that’s how you rollin’, huh?”, he questioned as he slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth before winking up at Yaa and sinking to his knees. Staring at the awe-striking sight of her glistening folds, Michael admired the intimate view as he could replay the numerous times he tried to capture this very image many a late night.

He pushed her legs further apart until her kneecaps were damn near touching the mattress before trailing his way up her inner thighs. Placing soft, gentle kisses and occasional nibbles against her hot skin, he increased his pressure, making her feel the individual pricks of his coarse facial hair making Yaa a squirmy, wet mess. Timidly reaching her glory, Michael brought his hands up and steadily separated her lower lips with both of his thumbs before pressing his mouth forward. “Looks like someone’s been waiting on me.”, he said with a cocky confidence.

Chest rapidly rising and falling, Yaa couldn’t form a coherent word, phrase, or sentence. She gulped heavily before rolling her head back as Michael’s lips connected to her folds. She gripped the sheets up as his tongue controlled her every move. He finally licked her wet opening with a flat tongue going from the bottom to the top. His tongue was a weapon— it was both long and thick. He licked his name on her bud—slowly torturing her it with every dip, twist, turn, curve, and dot of each letter in his name. He then inserted two of his thick fingers into her opening as he licked the letter "C" and began pumping his fingers at a moderate pace. Desperately panting from his actions, Yaa began to shriek once she felt Gatsby toy with her clit. This raggedy ass nigga finna suck you dry and ain’t shit you can do about it at this point.

His fingers picked up the pace the moment he noticed her unraveling, his tongue explored deeper into her womanhood. She struggled to feel for the nearest pillow, but when she found it, she quasi-covered her mouth to subdue her moans of pleasure.

The sounds of Yaa’s hitched breathing and impending sexual eruption ricocheted throughout the master bedroom. Her back was arched completely off of the bed and she held a firm grasp of his head. If it wasn’t a moan or gasp, Yaa let out a “fuck”, “shit”, or an “Oh Lorddddddd.” Hearing Yaa unravel brought Michael much pleasure—the match to his sexual fire. He occasionally laughed at her undoing; he finally had the object of his affection under his mercy, quivering at his touch. Right as he could feel the pressure change for her release, he pulled his fingers and tongue away from her now swollen bud. She quickly leaned up on her elbows to see why he was stupid enough to pull out right as she was about to release. He smiled maliciously as his soaked fingers neared his mouth. “Nuh-uh. I gotta taste this first, it makes the kisses taste sweeter.”, Michael explained as he slapped her hand away from his. Bitch, no the fuck he didn’t! The two locked eyes as he sucked his two drenched fingers like he’d just ate the last extra wet lemon pepper wing.

He motioned for her to sit up. Before he could even ask, Yaa leaned in to taste her sweet essence on his tongue. A shiver shot down his spine as her candy apple colored nail gently traveled down his back. Their kiss led to Yaa laying on her back once again. Michael bit his lip as he hovered over her. He snatched her by her ankle to the edge of the bed, sliding himself between her legs. “Missionary’s a bold first choice, don’t you think?”, Yaa asked as she handed him a condom. He chuckled, “Nah. I’m just tryna see sumn, that’s all.”

His thumb rubbed against her wet clit as his girthy member slowly entered her tight, slippery entrance. Yaa inhaled sharply as she felt her body tremble and his thick length push against her tight bounds. “Fuck!” She cursed, as she felt him move slow trying to feel each and every ridge of her plush opening. Their fingers intertwined within each other as he went further into her. The lustful gaze into her honey eyes only intensified the overwhelming sensation of euphoria emanating from her core. With her back now arched completely off the bed, her new position gave him more room to dig deeper into her guts. Her mouth was agape as she tried to breathe through her stimulation. His rhythm steadily increased with every stroke.

Watching Yaa’s scrunched facial expression, Michael moved his hands to grip her waist as he quickened his pace. Taking his off of her face for a second to peek at their connection as he smirked at the sticky surface of his and hers wet organs. With the erotic scene unfolding before him, Michael slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth once the sounds of their moist skin slapping against each other reached his ears. She was helpless—her eyes burned from the tears of pleasure and she struggled to grip onto the gold link chain that dangled from his neck. Her moans and whimpers continued to fuel his drive. Chuckling darkly at her body’s responsiveness he said, “Yea, this is that shit I was talking bout. Just listen to that shit speaking out to me, fuck.” before fluttering his eyes closed and pounding into her.

3:34 a.m.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of the headboard repeatedly being knocked against the wall served as a light sound buffer to Michael and Yaa’s moaning. Michael’s thick hand applied the perfect amount of pressure around her neck as he continued to deliver those dangerous strokes. Just as they were able to sync their rhythms, he pulled out. This nigga done lost his Black ass mind. She opened her mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by the sudden shift from her back to her tummy. “On your knees. Now.”, he commanded as he smacked her ass. She as she was told—only to be rewarded with the reunion of his lips to her lower lips. No, he didn’t, bitch! The byke?! He eatin’ it from the muhfuckin’ byke?! This is Daddy!! Fuck a Winston,chile. His alternating kissing and sucking on her swollen bud caused her to fall flat on her stomach from the overstimulation. His hand went underneath her to lift her back up. He centered himself before sliding his member back into her. He slowly increased his tempo as he twisted her locs into his fist.

Yaa’s voice was hoarse. Had been hoarse half an hour ago. She had been depleted of any common sense she’d thought she had and was running on adrenaline. Michael, though appearing to be the victor of the night’s bout, was still at odds with his challenger. She was tired but still fighting like hell. He sweated profusely—like a champ battling it out in the 11th round. She wasn’t going down with a fight. He flipped her around one last time. This time, he pinned her legs past her ears—a position that both were surprised by.

“You ain’t tappin’ out?”, he asked between pumps

“Why and you about to tap out yourself? Let’s tap out at the same time since you so damn excited.”, the raspy-voiced Yaa boldly replied.

“Aight, say less.”

He went into overdrive. He quickly moved her legs from near her ears to around his waist. Not even two minutes later, the pair released within seconds of each other,his body collapsing onto hers.

“Don’t move.”, Michael whispered in Yaa’s ear as he tried to get himself together.

She shook her head. “Bitch, I don’t wanna move.” She paused, “Actually, I need to finish wash my face. Move.”

The moment both feet landed on the ground, gravity betrayed her. Her knee gave out, causing to limp and almost fall. Thankfully, Michael’s body was turned away from her. After returning from the bathroom, she limped to the bed. Oh, heating pads are the move all day today. This was the beginning of something different, and what a way to begin a new beginning than on New Year’s Day?

A/N: Yeah, sorry for the trash ending. I got too impatient.

I’m in the kitchen, TAGS ERRYWHERE!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @ljstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @thememoireeofme @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston x yaa #winston duke x oc #destinedtobeduke #dukeandthedoctor

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 5 years

Text

Blood in the Water (Sequel to Such a Softer Sin) Chapter 16

(Chapter 1)

(Chapter 2)

(Chapter 3)

(Chapter 4)

(Chapter 5)

(Chapter 6)

(Chapter 7)

(Chapter 8)

(Chapter 9)

(Chapter 10)

(Chapter 11)

(Chapter 12)

(Chapter 13)

(Chapter 14)

(Chapter 15)

Just fair warning, the next chapter might take a few days to get up since I'm still in the middle of writing it, then I have to edit it. I'm also still sick and dealing with a bunch of other stuff. In other news, I have another Boondock Saints story in the works which has a supernatural twist and after this story, I'll start posting my multi-chapter Daryl Dixon ones. Lots of stuff coming up guys, you just might need to be a little patient for me to finish them up.

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A month went by pretty quickly as they all settled into their new life in Ireland. They got some sheep which helped earn them money from the wool and the boys still had a lot of cash from the hits they had done that would last them. Lila worked at The Anvil, the boys had insisted she didn't have to, but she wanted to work, she wanted to feel like life was normal and forget everything that happened in Boston. The twins had very stern words with their uncle Sibeal and Lila was more than amused that the man seemed scared to even look at her now, she didn't mind though, he seemed like a bit of a perv. Things seemed to be settling down and it was getting easier for her to push the past to the back of her mind. It was peaceful here and the boys were no longer going out and taking bad men out, she didn't have to worry about their safety anymore or worry they would up and leave her once again.

She sat in the bathroom, her lower lip between her teeth as she looked at the pregnancy test. It was positive, and she honestly didn't know how she felt about it. She thought she would be excited, especially now things had calmed down and they could actually have a life here, but all she felt was dread. She had gotten so attached to the first baby, and now she was scared this one would be taken from her too. She knew she couldn't go through that again, it would kill her. She heaved a sigh, trying to calm herself, she knew she would have to tell the boys. She stood up and walked out, walking into the living room where the boys were watching tv. She was grasping at the stick in her hand and both of them looked to her as she just stood there, their eyes being drawn to the test.

“Is...Is it?” Murphy whispered hopefully, looking at her with his bright blue eyes, it made her heart ache. Connor was watching her carefully. Part of him though she would say negative since she didn't look excited at all. She didn't speak, just nodded as she handed Connor the test since he was closest to her. The boys looked at it, beaming grins splitting their faces as Murphy let out an incredulous laugh. He jumped up, bounding over to her as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He was too consumed by his excitement to notice how tense she felt when she carefully wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Fuckin’ hell Murph, let go and let me hug her too.” Connor grumbled from behind him, making Murphy snort into her hair, giving her one last squeeze as he moved away, he noticed then, as his brother wrapped her up in his arms, that she looked less than happy about the whole thing and it made him frown a little.

“What's wrong?” He asked warily, pinning his gaze on her as Connor moved away.

“Nothing.” She lied, giving him a fake smile avoiding his eyes. It made him squint a little and his brother sent him a mental nudge to drop it. He wasn't sure just why she was acting this way but he knew it probably had something to do with everything that had gone on. She didn't want to talk about it and they both needed to respect that, when she was ready she would talk to them. Murphy huffed but dropped it anyway, knowing his brother was right.

“So, who should we tell first? Ma, Da or Rocco?” Connor asked with a grin, trying to steer the mood back into good rather than sour.

“Ah fuckin’ Christ, let's tell Ma! She’ll have a fuckin’ heart attack.” Murphy laughed gleefully.

“No! We...we shouldn't tell people yet.” Lila protested, looking from Murphy to Connor with wide eyes. They glanced to each other before back at her.

“Why not?” Murphy frowned, he was far too excited, they were going to have a baby, he would shout it from the rooftops if he could.

“It's just too soon. We should wait.” She muttered, wringing her hands a little. Connors line of thought was confirmed then, that she was worried because of what happened last time, and once again the guilt swelled up inside of them.

“Alright sweetheart, we’ll wait.” Connor smiled softly at her, taking her hand reassuringly. She relaxed then, nodding gratefully and Murphy leant in, kissing the side of her head sweetly. He wasn't happy with having to wait but he knew why she wanted to. After all they had put her through he would do anything she would ask of him just to help her feel better.

A few days later and Lila found herself kneeling in front of the toilet, head resting on her arms pitifully. She had stopped throwing up about five minutes ago but she was too scared to move in fear it would start all over again. Connor was out helping his Da with the sheep and Murphy was sat by her side, rubbing her back soothingly. He hated seeing her so sick and miserable but at the same time, it was a sign that their baby was in her belly and that made him the happiest fucker alive. He had dutifully held her hair from her face as she threw up violently and then rubbed her back whilst she sat their miserable and fed up. He hadn't exactly been through this before with a girl and he had no idea just how rough pregnancy could be on a lass, he really felt for her.

“Did ye go through all this...last time?” He asked hesitantly, breaking the silence. She didn't move though, the weight settling heavy in her chest at his words.

“Yeah. Remember all the times I was sick and we thought it was because of everything that was going on?” She asked softly, not moving from her spot on the floor, head still resting on her arms lest her stomach turn on her once more, the traitorous bastard. Murphy licked his lip as he nodded, he did remember. She threw up after Connor set the Russians ass on fire, when the boys came back injured and had to sort their own wounds out. Back then he had thought it was the stress. He almost threw up himself when he had his wound cauterised and he had to help with Connors. Now he knew better and it hurt him.

“I know...I know yer worried love, scared even, and I cannae exactly promise ye things will be fine this time. But...I do believe God’s lookin’ out for us and it’ll be okay.” He said carefully, watching as she sat up, glaring at him.

“Really Murph? God? Where the fuck was he when I needed him, or our first baby?” She sneered at him, making him wince a little at the harshness of her words, her tone was cutting and he regretted opening his mouth, but he wanted her to hear this.

“I know it seems like he wasn't there, but things happen for a reason Lila, even bad things. We don’t know the reason but it doesn't mean there isn't one.” He replied warily, watching as she clenched her jaw. He felt like he was digging his own grave with these words at the look she was giving him.

“Enlighten me Murphy just what the reasons were for having me beat within an inch of life and our baby dying, because I’d love to fucking know.” She bit out, making him swallow thickly and lower his eyes. It was still painful to talk about.

“Lila...I don’t…” He started softly.

“No. I swear if you start with the ‘God works in mysterious ways’ bullshit, I’ll drown you in the fucking toilet.” She squinted, he heaved a sigh, knowing this was a losing battle. He just wanted her to know God was there, that he loved her like all of his children but he knew it probably wasn't the right time.

“I’m not, alright? Ye know it hurt me what happened, and I was angry meself, but I know there was a fuckin’ reason love. God’s still there, it might not feel like it and ye have every right te be angry at him, no one will hold it against ye, but he’s still there.” He stated firmly, levelling his gaze onto hers.

“Then where was he every time I’ve needed him Murphy?” She lamented, her voice cracking as tears stung her eyes. She had been over emotional the last few days due to hormones but that wasn't why she wanted to cry. She had been through so much in her life; her father being murdered, her grandfather dying, the car accident, Murphy dying briefly, the fucking thing with the Russians and then the baby. She was sure God hated her by this point. Murphy's heart squeezed painfully in his chest at her words and the look on her face, it hurt him so much to know she was in pain, he just wanted to take it all away. He knew she had been through too much in her life, he knew she had every right not to believe in God after this and he wouldn't ever hold it against her, she wasn't devout like he and his brother were. He wrapped his arms around her and was pleased to feel her melting into him, not mad at him for bringing all of this up. He stroked her hair affectionately as he just soaked her in.

“I love ye m’girl.” He mumbled into her hair, inhaling her sweet cinnamon scent that she always seemed to have, he was glad it never changed, he wasn't sure how she managed it. She moved away from him and smiled up at him, making his breathing hitch at the sight. Her smile always floored him, from the very first time he had seen it on her beautiful face. It felt like a lifetime ago and now they were having a baby and were getting married. He couldn't believe just how lucky he and his brother were, she was an angel.

“I love you too Murphy.” She said softly. He leant in to kiss her and she turned her face, making him scoff and look at her offended.

“Murph...I’ve just been throwing up.” She snorted, making his eyes widen as he realised, the tips of his ears turned pink and she almost outright laughed at him.

“Guess I should fuckin’ thank ye then. Hurry up and brush yer teeth so I can kiss ye.” He smirked, making her flick his nose playfully. He laughed as he captured her hand, bringing it up to his lips as he kissed her knuckles sweetly.

There was a knock at the door and they both turned to look at it, still sat on the floor as it opened and Connor poked his head through. He came in, shutting the door behind him and she noticed the glass of water in his hand.

“Thought ye might need this.” He smiled as he handed it to her, she grinned gratefully as she sipped it, watching as he crouched next to her, feeling her head. He had been a little overbearing with his mothering since they found out, every time she was sick he would smother her. He would only try to help but it was too much, it was why she had sent him out to help his father instead of Murphy. Connor was usually really good at reading her and respecting when she needed space, but it seemed the fact she was carrying their child kicked his overprotectiveness into overdrive and he was clucking around her like a mother hen.

“How ye feelin’? Ye need anythin’? Maybe ye should lay down aye?” He asked concerned as he continued feeling her face. She squinted and swatted his hand away, causing Murphy to snort from next to her. Connor glared at him for a minute before looking back at the girl with a huff.

“I just wanna make sure yer alright sweetheart.” He sighed, almost pouting and she felt a little bad. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“I know, but I’ll be okay. You don't need to be so…” She struggled to find the words without offending him.

“Overbearin’, that's what she’s tryin’ te tell ye brother. Yer smotherin’ the poor girl.” Murphy smirked smugly, making her narrow her eyes at him as she reached out and pinched his nipple. He squeaked and held his sore nipple as he glowered at her.

“Is he right? Am I bein’ too much?” Connor asked, looking so sad she had to resist the urge to squeeze him.

“Maybe...just a little. I like that you care, it’s sweet. But it’s just morning sickness Connor, I’m not dying.” She said carefully, feeling so guilty. He nodded, relenting as he realised he was indeed being too much and it only made her feel even more guilty. She couldn't describe the look on his face, almost like he was disappointed in himself.

“Was the water alright or was that too much too?” He asked confused, he had no idea how to do this, this was so new to him and he was out of his depth, and where he thought he had been caring for her, he had been annoying her instead.

His confused face and his words made her heart flutter and she knew right then she didn't care if he mothered her, its what he wanted to do, to make himself feel useful and if that's what he needed, she would put up with it. He cared, and that's what mattered.

“The water was fine Connor, don’t worry about it okay? I like you looking after me.” She smiled, it widening when a beaming grin split his face like he’d just received the best news of his life, it was endearing. His brother didn't even make any snarky comments, seeing and feeling how at a loss his brother had been. He knew this was his way of trying to take charge of the situation and to care for her. Just like Murphy had, he leant in to kiss her and she only just managed to dodge his lips, they landed on her cheek instead. He moved away looking at her the same way Murphy had, so fucking offended, and Murphy burst out laughing.

“She’s been sick ye wee twit.” He snorted at Connor. Connor blanched and looked to her as she bit her lip so she didn't laugh at him, they’d both probably think twice before kissing her now, it was amusing.

Connor dipped his fingers in her glass of water and flicked the water at Murphy, making his laughter die on his lips as he squinted at him.

“I’ll fuckin’ get ye for that one ye gobshite.” He scowled, leaning over to thwack his brother across his head. Lila grabbed his wrist though and gave him a pointed look. They’d had a talk about not fighting near her, even just playfully, she didn't want them to hit her accidentally and hurt her or the baby. They had been good for the most part, but it didn't mean the temptation wasn't still there. Murphy huffed at the look she gave him and lowered his hand, and when she turned to look at Connor, she saw him smirk smugly at his brother. Lila leant over and smacked him around the head, making him cry out in shock as Murphy erupted in laughter.

“The fuck was that for?!” Connor grumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he pouted at her.

“Don't goad your brother.” She scolded playfully, making Murphy grin widely.

“Yeah Connor, don’t goad me.” He smirked, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Connor narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don't push your luck Murphy or you’ll get one too.” She snorted, making his smile vanish off his face as he looked at her.

“Fuckin’ hell, she’s worse than Ma.” Murphy stated warily.

“Ye said that before. That time ye got drunk off yer face. Do ye remember that? When ye kept orderin’ drinks on Lilas first day just so she would come back and talk te ye?” Connor sniggered, making Murphy's eyes widen as he blushed furiously. Lila looked at him, watching in fascination as he blushed brighter than she had ever seen him blush.

“Wait, that's why you were so drunk? I thought you'd had a bad day at work or something.” She said softly, making Murphy look down and toy with his hands. He wanted to throttle his brother for letting out that piece of information and the smug look on his face made it obvious he had said it on purpose.

“Aye. Ye were just so busy and we didn't get te talk te ye much, so I thought...if I ordered a drink ye had te come back, so I kept orderin’ drinks.” He muttered, still blushing like a tomato. He finally looked at her, blinking slowly as she took his hand with a beaming grin, it made him relax a little.

“That's really sweet Murphy.” She smiled, kissing his hand much like he had done to her earlier. Her bright smile made his heart still in his chest for a moment.

“Oh come on, it was a stupid plan! Don’t be coddlin’ him.” Connor whined, clearly not impressed that his plan to embarrass his brother had backfired, now she seemed to think it was so sweet and fucking adorable. Murphy shot him a smug look and he squinted.

“Wasn’t a stupid plan, worked didn't it?” Murphy asked with a smirk.

“Aye but then ye were too sloshed te fuckin’ spend time wit’ her and she had te help me home wit’ ye. And then she spent the night wit’ me.” Connor grinned, making Murphy huff in response.

“Well that's a lie. I stayed until the cab came and then I went home.” Lila snorted, Murphy laughed at her words and Connor threw his hands up in defeat.

“It doesn't even matter anyway, because we’re here now together, and that's what matters.” She said softly, taking Connors hand too so the three of them were linked together, both boys smiling at her like lovesick fools.

“Aye, and we’re havin’ a wee babe.” Murphy grinned excitedly.

“And we’re gettin’ married. This Saturday, by the way, Ma arranged it.” Connor added casually, making Lilas' eyes widen.

“This weekend?! Why didn't you tell me?! I need a dress! I need to call Aileen to see if she can come, oh God I need to call my Ma…” She looked spooked almost and Murphy bit his lip so he didn't laugh at her.

“Ma already called yer Ma and Aileen, they’ll both be here. Everythin’s arranged, all ye need is a dress and there's a shop in town ye can go te.” Connor supplied, clearly having the plan worked out as always.

“Do you think Rocco would come with me to shop for the dress?” She asked, glancing from one boy to the other.

“Why can't we come?” Murphy frowned, making Connor roll his eyes.

“We’re not supposed te see the bride in the dress before the weddin’ ye fuckin’ dope, its bad luck.” Connor snorted.

“Wait, what about the legal one, me and Murphy, does your Ma know about that?” She asked carefully. She wasn't really sure if the boys had disclosed that part of the plan and she still felt wary about it since it was only to one twin, she knew why they wanted her to do it, to be legally linked to them and to take their last name, but she still felt like she was walking the fine line of playing favourites. She wasn't sure how their Ma would take it.

“She does, its booked in for Friday. Me and Roc will go as witnesses, ye just go in, sign the shit, and it's done.” Connor grinned proudly, happy he had it all worked out. She was relieved Annabel knew about it and she was fine with it, but it still felt weird. She wouldn't have gone for it at all if it hadn't been Connor himself that had suggested she legally marry Murphy.

“Okay, I guess we’re getting married this weekend then.” She said like she was in awe about the whole thing.

“Aye, soon ye’ll be Mrs MacManus.” Murphy beamed at her, making her snort a little.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag

#boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus fanfic #connor macmanus #connor macmanus fanfic

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phanfictrashalex · 5 years

Text

01:00

The day finally came that Dan was waking up to an alarm again. It was his first day back to school since winter break. Going back was something that he hadn't been looking forward to since he got out.

He knew that he could probably get a better job with a school degree, but sometimes he was to the point where he wanted to completely drop out of school and find some shit job.

Dan liked to learn, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the people in his school the teachers and the students. He liked school up until high school started.

He always had people that he could talk to and hang out with, but when high school started that all changed. People started to change they began finding new friend groups and altogether ditched Dan. They probably had something going on in their lives, or that's what he told himself not wanting to dwell on it too much.

Dan wasn't too introverted. He didn't have to always be alone, but to mentally be able to handle a large crowd of people he had to have space for a few days so he didn't go completely insane.

High school became one of his worst nightmares whenever his dad left, he felt as if it was his fault.

It was 7 that morning, and his mother was yelling at him to get out of bed reminding him that he had school.

He finally got out of bed after 5 minutes of her poking at him to get up. He finds what clothes he is going to wear, a white t-shirt, black skinny jeans, his black converse, and a leather jacket to go over his shirt.

Dan gets out of the house by 7:30. He had to walk to school, but he wouldn't count it as the worst part of his day. Getting there was. Having to hear whatever drama went on over winter break, and their teachers yelling at them for whatever reason they can think of. It was the worst at times, and this is the reason that Dan didn't want to go back.

He puts on music as he tries to drown out the world around him for as long as he can before getting to school. After a 10 minute walk, he finally gets there.

It wasn't the fact that he was popular he wouldn't change that for the world. It was the fact that he didn't have any real friends. Most people came and stayed for his fame and popularity.

He was glad that it wasn't like his elementary school days. Those were the days when he got bullied the most. Anymore he was the one who was known to kick someone's ass if they tried to pick on him. People would make fun of his height, his hair, and his dimples. Anything they could think of they would use as an insult. It was quite tiring so he was glad when he did move.

The goal when he did move was to get on everyone's good side, the teacher's, the kid's, and become the popular kid. At this point, Dan started to straighten his hair because he didn't like his naturally curly hair.

This was another reason he didn't like going to school. He had to put on a character, be someone that he wasn't. He had to always get good grades, dress nice, straighten his hair, be this person who did all of these things. When in reality, all he wanted to do was go home and look on tumblr and stop having to put on an act for people to like him.

If putting on an act meant that he didn't get called a faggot every day, he was okay with it. The thing was, he wasn't even gay! He had never had a homosexual thought in his life. He didn't know where people were ever getting the assumption that he was gay to begin with.

It was time for class to start. Everyone gathered into a room and got taught the same thing one class after the other. It wasn't that he didn't like learning, it was the fact that he didn't like learning the same thing over and over again.

The teacher started speaking, Dan not really paying attention, all he wanted to know is what they were doing so he could get it over with. He didn't care that it was the day after winter break and everyone was probably exhausted.

Finally, after 20 minutes of lecturing them about getting more sleep and behaving, they got their assignments. This happened in every class that day, even getting lectured before lunch and reminded the rules.

"Hey what's up?" Chris turned to Dan and asked him.

It was currently lunch, everyone was talking at the top of their lungs to hear one another.

He shrugged at Chris, "Nothing much, would rather be at home though,"

Everyone in their group laughed at that and agreed. "I'm sure everyone wants to go home right now. The amount of times they've repeated the same thing over and over again is getting annoying."

Someone new caught Dan's eye, they were a boy with blue eyes, black hair, very pale skin, and about the same height as Dan. He had to be new, Dan had never seen him before in his life.

"Do you know who that is?" Dan said, pointing in the boy's direction.

Chris and Pj turned around to look at him. "Yeah, he's in my English class," Pj said. "His name is Phil."

"He looks like he belongs in a garden or something; not in this hell hole," Louise replied with. Dan knew that she wasn't wrong, there was no way that he was going to last a day without getting attacked.

"Yeah, I think he'll find his way around though," Dan sighs, "He seems to be getting along with a few people anyway."

It was nearing the end of lunch, preparing to go to his last few classes of the day.

He got to his sixth-period class, and Phil was one of his classmates in that class. Their teacher gave them another lecture and told them that tomorrow they would be paired up for a project that they'd have to do.

Dan always hated projects like these, he was the one who did all of the work for the person to still get full credit for it when they did nothing to help. This was something that he was going to have to mentally prepare for all night, doing a whole project by himself that was probably going to be due at the end of the week on top of whatever other bullshit the teachers gave him.

By the end of that class period, he decided that Phil was too innocent to be in this school with these people. He was a grade ahead of Dan, taking some classes that he didn't take at his old school so he could get caught up and graduate.

When Dan got out of class, he was heading to his locker when someone stopped him.

Dan turned around to see that it was Phil, who might as well be called plant boy, standing in front of him.

"Hi- sorry, do you know where the health room is?" Phil nervously asked.

"Yeah, it's down the hall third door on your right." Dan thought he might as well be nice to him, he didn't seem like a complete dick.

After stopping at his locker; he made his way to his last class of the day, which was math. This was the only class that he had with Chris and Louise.

He saw them as soon as he stepped foot into the classroom. They were lucky enough to be able to sit by each other because they never would talk when the teacher was trying to talk.

They got yet another lecture, he was sick of them after the first two he got at the start of the day. He knew enough about the rules to not have to hear this for the seventh time that day.

When they finally got dismissed from class, he talked to Chris, Pj, Louise, and Cat for a little bit before waving his goodbyes and saying that he'd see them tomorrow. Dan then began his walk home. This was the time when he could breathe and think about everything that had gone on in school the previous few hours.

He finally got home, looking out of the window for a bit before starting on his homework that he had to do for the night. When he was looking out of his window, he saw that plant boy was walking into the house next door. So, they were neighbours, he knew that the house was for sale but didn't expect for anyone with kids around Dan's age to move into it.

This was going to be a fun few months, Dan thought. From that second on, it became Dan's task to avoid Phil as much as he could.

He sent a message in the group chat that he and his friends were in, 'You will never believe who my new neighbour is,'

'omg who is it?' Chis replied.

'You know plant boy or whatever his name is?'

'... You can't be serious'

'I, unfortunately, am being serious,'

Dan fell onto his bed, he knew that he had to get up in a little bit and do some of his homework, but the realisation that this boy is his neighbour for some reason scared him more than anything.

His mother came up, telling him that the food was ready. After eating, he went back upstairs and started on his hours of homework that he had to do. This was something that he was sadly used to, being in advanced classes was the worst at times.

Dan put some music on and started right away on his work. After about three hours he finally finished it and decided that it was time for him to get some sleep.

He looked out of the window for a little bit, looking at the stars and the moon. This was one of the things that really interested him, space. Everyone knew that he was like a genius when it came to be anything space-related.

These types of things normally relaxed him, taking his mind off of the world and everything going on around him. He could sit and just relax, not have to worry about homework or people at school.

He then finally laid down and went to sleep after a few hours of twisting and turning, even if he seemed like he was always hyper and had enough sleep, most of the time he never got enough sleep unless he was on break. Dan was always studying and trying to figure out his life, that's why on break he didn't want to see anyone for a few days. Needing the time to mentally recover from everything.

It was the next day, getting up and doing the same thing that morning as he did the last. Today he was finding out who his partner was for the project, Dan could only hope for someone who would actually help him work on it rather than sit around and do literally none of it.

He got to school and went on with his day as normal. What was unusual is, he saw Phil staring at him whenever he got the chance. It wasn't like they had many classes together, but whenever they passed by each other or saw each other in the halls he always caught him staring.

Dan found it rather intimidating, he wasn't gay. He wouldn't understand why anyone who is anything but straight would like him, a heterosexual, boy.

Even if Dan was gay no one would know that, but he's not. He had a record for sleeping around with girls before his ex-girlfriend. There were a few boys that he found kind of cute, but no one that he would date or sleep around with.

Although there was nothing wrong with being gay, he really didn't want Phil to be staring at him the way he did.

Phil just looked kind of.. soft. Dan knew that he was going to be screwed over for the rest of the school year, and he was going to have to talk to someone about it. For all of his upper elementary and middle school years he was always called "gay" and "fag," This was something that he was glad that changed when he moved schools at the start of high school.

He knew the person he could go to is Louise, she was always like a sibling or mother to him, and she always knew how to handle these types of situations. Dan messaged her to meet up at lunch, somewhere they wouldn't be overheard.

At lunch Dan was so happy to see Louise, this was something that was eating at him since he saw Phil the day prior.

Plus, it wasn't even like he knew Phil that well, he could be a serial killer for all he knew. He really just wanted to be friends with him, nothing else, that was something that he was positive of.

"What's wrong? You seem worried about something," Louise asked Dan when she saw him.

"We have to go somewhere else to talk about this, I'm not talking about it where other people can hear,"

They walk outside, to the side of the building where no one goes to. This is a place that they agreed would be the safest.

"I don't know what these feelings are," Dan sighed, starting to explaining everything. "It's almost like I want to smile every time I see this plant boy, and there's always this weird feeling in my stomach?"

"Dan, could you possibly have a crush on him?"

"No," Dan said, anger starting to boil up. "There's no way because I'm not gay," He knew that he shouldn't lash out at Louise, she's always so supportive of him and helps with anything she can.

"Alright, do you think you want to try and get to know him a bit better, and maybe be his friend?"

Dan nodded, "I think that might be for the best."

They went back inside before the lunch period ended to find Pj, Chris, and Cat at the table they normally sat at.

"Where were you two? We thought you were skipping the rest of the school day or something." Cat said, concern filling her voice.

Dan looked over at Louise and back at Cat, "We had to talk about something, I was having a bit of a crisis as usual."

She nodded, "Right," She didn't want to take that as an excuse, but she didn't want to bother him over it.

The next period was the one he had with Phil, and the one he was getting assigned partners with for a project.

"Right, so I've picked your partners for you." The teacher began to speak, most of the time Dan would ignore her but he didn't want to be paired up with some rude kid this time.

The last time he was paired up with someone he had to do all of the work himself and the kid never even showed up to help with any of it.

"Phil, you're paired up with Dan," He heard and looked over at Phil. Great, this next week or two was going to be wonderful for Dan.

Even if he wanted to get to know Phil, he didn't want it to be because they had to do some stupid project together. Plus, when it came to school work, Dan was an overachiever. Always wanting everything to go his way and he wanted everything to be perfect.

After the class ended, Phil found Dan and they started to plan out when they wanted to start on it.

"Right, here's my mobile number we can figure out times to do it after school or whenever if you want." Phil softly said to Dan.

Dan nodded and walked on to his next class, trying to get Phil out of his mind. He was straight for god's sake, for all he knew Phil could want to kill him.

#phanfiction #phanfic #highschool phan #highschool au #highschool!au

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jishyucks · 6 years

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Better Late than Never | Lee Jeno

[The title lowkey goes with the story but not really lmao]

Summary: The reader is late for a school field trip. Once getting on the bus, they have no choice but to sit in the last seat available, next to ‘No-fun’ Jeno

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: a bit of swearing

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of running. It was literally too much effort just to get to a place quicker than usual. For that reason, you always planned everything beforehand and got used to getting places earlier. It was a simple solution. Today was a different story.

Usually, getting to school wasn’t a huge problem. Your body clock always woke you up on time and you had your phone’s alarm just in case but for some reason, on this day of all days, your body somehow ignored both your mental and real alarm and decided to sleep in for two extra hours. Now you were running around the house stressed about fixing yourself and your lunch. Today was the day of a very relevant field trip that your teacher had constantly reminded your class even two months before date, and now you were running late. You mentally smacked yourself as you hurriedly got ready. The walk to your school was about 10 minutes, so that could easily turn into a 5 minute sprint.

Turning your head towards a clock in your kitchen, your eyes widened at the time. The bus for the trip would leave at 7 and it was 6:50. A string of swears left your mouth as you stuck on whatever pair of shoes was sitting outside of the closet, grabbed your house keys and practically flew through the door. There was no time to waste.

The beat of your heart started to pick up in pace just as your feet did. Your bag bounced up and down as you briskly passed every house on your block. Turning left, you tightened your grip on your phone and checked the time on it for reassurance. 6:55. Shit. For some damn reason, your legs automatically started quickening as if they knew that you were in need for the speed. You felt like fucking Dash from the Incredibles.

In a matter of minutes, you began to see a clear view of your school and the travel bus sitting by the front steps. Your biology teacher waited at the front of the bus staring you down as if she knew which direction you lived. On her face was a blunt expressions of you’re fucking late and you returned it with the look that said I know I’m sorry.

When you finally got to the bus, you hopped on and quickly apologized to your entire class for running late when you all could’ve left earlier for the 2 hour bus ride. No one really cared though. They just continued their conversations with the people around them.

Your eyes wandered around the bus in search for your friends. A small appeared on your lips before pressing them into a thin line. There were no seats anywhere near your friends. There were barely any seats. The only one left that was not beside the teacher was beside Lee Jeno.

A sigh escaped your lips. Great, you thought, The only seat left is beside ‘no fun’ Jeno. Two hours of pure nothing. And you sure didn’t want to sit near your teacher either. The soles of your shoes squeaked as you approached the seat which was near the back. Jeno hadn’t noticed you approaching yet as he was immersed with something on his phone.

“Mind if I sit here?” You questioned quietly, “There aren’t any seats left.” The tips of your fingers ran over the rough straps of your backpack multiple times. You seriously did not want to sit beside the teacher for two hours.

“Sure I don’t mind,” he answered dully. His eyes didn’t even leave the screen so you were sure he had no idea who he was even speaking to.

You let out another huff and tossed your bag into the storage on top. The seat sunk as you plopped down into it, phone and earphones in hand. Almost as soon as you sat, the bus driver had started the vehicle and immediately began driving. There was many conversations going on, basically one happening in each row of seats, all except for yours and Jeno’s. You didn’t mean it but you gritted your teeth angrily. Sure, you and Jeno weren’t close friends or have you guys even spoken outside of school, but small talk wouldn’t hurt at all.

You found your eyes drifting towards his direction and found him just listening to his music as he stared out the window. You figured his friends weren’t in this class because literally no one had tried to speak to him yet or had tried to communicate with him unlike your friends who had made a few hand signals at you a few minutes before. Biting your bottom lip, you decided to follow him and listen to your own music. It will probably help the time pass a bit.

Choosing a slow song playlist, you rested your head against the seat’s headrest and closed your eyes.

If it weren’t for your one earbud falling out of your ear, you wouldn’t have woken up in a confused and exhausted state. Your head was comfortably on Jeno’s shoulder and you found that he had laid your sweater over your shoulders and arms so you hadn’t gotten cold.

Startled, you jolted and sat up, “Shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” You felt your cheeks warm up from embarrassment as you couldn’t bring yourself to making straight eye contact with him.

He smiled widely, his eyes turning into crescents. You felt yourself blush even harder. What the hell this isn’t like you stop blushing. He took out one of his earbuds and spoke, “It’s okay, I promise. I would’ve shaken your head off of my shoulder if I didn’t like it, you know.” He let out a small laugh and held a thumbs up.

“Wait what time is it? How long ’til we get to the destination?” You looked around still trying to take in what had just happened.

“It’s only eight o’ three so about fifty more minutes,” he replied. You groaned and sat back. Are you fucking serious?

“I feel you,” he chuckled. He paused his music and wrapped his earphones around his phone, “Do you want to play a game for the rest of the ride? I’m getting bored of listening to music.” You looked at him surprised, hopefully not noticing how shocked you were.

“Sure what game? I have nothing planned,” you answered, wrapping your own earphones around your phone.

“How about would you rather? I always play it with my friends,” he suggested, “If not, I have nothing else.”

“Sure, but you start,” you turned your body so that you were cross legged in your seat and facing him.

He raised an eyebrow and let out small hum, almost deep in thought. Jeno’s face relaxed as he finally thought of one.

“Would you rather end every sentence with ‘just joking’ or start every sentence with ‘hey idiot’?”

There was a short silence between the two of you as you fell deep in thought.

“The first one, no one would take me seriously if I said just joking after everything,” you replied, “And what if somebody failed a test or something and you’re trying to comfort them? You’d be like, ‘yo it’s alright, you can do better next time, just joking.’”

Jeno bursted out laughing, covering his mouth at the realization at how loud he suddenly was, “You wouldn’t be able to compliment someone either… How about the ‘hey idiot’ one?”

“I don’t know, I mean, ‘Hey idiot, you can do better next time,’ sounds a lot more better than the other one,” you laughed.

The game continued, occasionally falling into a different topic after each decision that had to be made. Near the end of the bus ride, you seriously asked yourself why everyone called him ‘no fun’ Jeno when he was the seriously complete opposite. It could be a nickname from those who hadn’t taken time to get to know him. Any reason, they were wrong.

“Here.” You found his phone being shoved into your hands. It was already unlocked and the messages app was open.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?” You looked up at him still confused but he looked back at you with the same smile almost an hour earlier.

“O-oh, I was wondering if you could give me your number… I had fun during the ride,” he lowered his head shyly and kept his attention on his phone, “And if you wanted to play a different game back, maybe like 20 questions or chopsticks.”

You almost gasped out loud before nodding, “Of course.” Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you inputted your number. You sent yourself a smiley face and handed the phone back to Jeno. You hadn’t thought that being late would benefit you at all.

#my nct writings #my writings #nctwriters #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 2018 #neo culture technology #lee jeno #jeno #nct jeno #nct imagines #nct scenarios #Kpop imagines #kpop #Imagines #nct u #jeno reactions #jeno scenarios

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redfoxwritesstuff · 6 years

Text

Silent Song, Chapter 24

Hi. Grab some tissues, hop in the blanket fort because this one is going to hurt. The therapist (imaginary) should be here within the next few hours. We’ve got cocoa and vodka. Sooth your soul however you need to. I promise, I will fix this. Warning: Major character death.

Masterlist Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23

The team was gathered in a large conference room. It was late and many were tired. Some had just come back from raiding yet another base but it didn’t matter. None would rather be anywhere else but here at that moment. It was finally happening.

They had a lead. A solid concrete lead. For a moment no one said anything as they all looked to the red dot on the holographic map. Each feared that if they made a noise everything would shatter and they’d wake to find it was all a dream.

“You’re sure?” Clint finally asked, voice soft.

“About 95% sure, yes.” Strange answered. “I’ve never worked this spell before so there is always a margin of error however… I’m fairly confident.”

“She’s there.” Loki confirmed, standing tall in his leather armor. He was still pale, he still looked ill and half mad but with something to focus on he was mentally more present than he had been in weeks.

“What’s the plan?” Natasha asked. “We need to get Svetlana out of there alive.”

“We go in. Kick ass. Bring Hotaru home.” Tony answered.

“We need an actual plan.” Steve pointed out and they began planning.

Things felt better, just knowing where she was. Having the confirmation that she was alive pulled a weight off of all their shoulders. It was as if a switch was flipped and they could face the world again. They could say her name again.

In less than twelve hours, the team was collecting their gear and boarding a jet. It would be four hours until they landed in the general location. They would find her and god help anyone who dared to stand in their way. They would bring her home and rain hell down on those who dared take what was theirs to protect. There would be a line of those waiting to extract vengeance for the harm that had come to her.

Loki would be first in that line.

Subject 132 knew something was shifting but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The burn in her eyes and the fog from lack of restful sleep made it hard to think much about anything. Sometimes, she would cry though she didn’t really understand why.

The tears were a waste of water and she wished they would stop. It happened when the ache in her chest was at its worst. She wished she knew why she hurt so much. It had to do with those people she saw in her dreams. She knew that much even if she wasn’t sure who they were any longer.

Did she ever know who they were?

They visited her dreams every night with their blurred faces and harsh words. It was their words that often brought on the ache in her chest and the tears. She was worthless. She was unwanted. She was thrown away. They would tell her those things each and every night with distorted voices without fail and she would awake feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all.

The only peace she had was sometimes when she would drift to sleep, before the nightmares started, the Dark Prince would visit her. During the nightmares he was different, his face unclear and his voice just as distorted as the others but during these times she could see him clearly. She could hear his voice as she knew it was, though she couldn’t say how she knew it.

Each time the Dark Prince visited her they would be sitting on a couch in an open room. He always smelled the same and she could never pinpoint what it was his smell reminded her of. Dew and forests at night, though she wasn’t sure how she could find comfort in that but she did. The scent of him had a chill to it that she didn’t find in the forests when their cages were moved through.

How could she be sure when this was the only life she knew Everything else was an illusion, she knew. They had sent her away to make her think she was free all for their entertainment. It was a game. Always a game. Only a game.

Yet she held onto these moments with her Dark Prince, whoever he may be. It was the only peace she had and though she didn’t know why he came to her, how he knew of her or why she dreamed of him she would hold onto him. She knew he wasn’t real. Perhaps a figment of her imagination.

Was that so outlandish? She knew her sanity was slowly fading, finally. The embrace of madness would be welcomed by her when it finally came for her. Until then, she would hold onto her Dark Prince and his soft words of love for so long as she could. He’d promise to find her, to come for her and rescue her but she knew he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t real. His love wasn’t real. Perhaps his peaceful visits before the nightmares started was all a part of their game as well. It didn’t matter. She’d hold onto them just the same. What was real didn’t matter anymore.

“Tonight the game ends.” The woman with the bright eyes sneered through the bars.

Subject 132 didn’t offer much in the way of a reaction. Just a look in the woman’s direction and nothing more. Not to her eyes, not to her face. Making eye contact was dangerous. It was a good way to get struck hard. There was no reason to bring more pain.

The motel offered little to no amenities and Tony hadn’t stopped complaining about it since the door closed behind them. Loki wasn’t much better, sneering at the lumpy couch and the whole of the room smelled foul. Both men’s complaints were halfhearted, only spoken because it was expected of them. Neither would admit it.

“What now?” Clint sat down as the team crowded into the too small room.

“Now we pinpoint their location.” Strange spoke as he cleared the table top. “Shall we?”

Loki came to stand across from him, setting the necklace- her necklace in the center. Strange held his hands out over the necklace and Loki mirrored him. The room grew silent as the team observed.

It was minor magic they were weaving but delicate work just the same. Should they push too much or pull too hard they would risk snapping the tether. If that were to happen they would have to search for her the old fashioned way. That method had already resulted in them taking far too long to find her.

Green shimmered around the stone held in snake jaws in the necklace for a moment before it began to lift up and hover in a slowly expanding ball of thread. Loki slowly extracted his power from the stone as Strange worked to keep the blue thread of her soul stable.

Behind him, Clint whistled- it was rare that anyone ever saw magic being worked by one of the sorcerers. To see them both work magic together was a rare sight still. Yet over the last few months it had become increasingly common, though no less impressive.

With the threads of Loki’s power out of the stone they were able to focus on that one solitary thread that belonged to her. It wasn’t a lot to work with at all. It was no wonder why Loki hadn’t noticed the thread for so long. It was thin as a thread of spider silk but it was there just the same.

“A map would be most useful, Stark.” Strange didn’t even look to him as he spoke.

“J, you heard the man.” Tony set his phone down, screen up on the table.

“Yes, Sir.” the AI spoke as a holograph of the area lit up the table.

Together the two sorcerers worked their power through the thread of her soul slowly. It felt like it took a lifetime to work it and spread it, building their own power around it to stabilize it and magnify it as they worked.

Sweat gathered on Strange’s brow as the first hour began to pass into the second. The team milled about the room in near perfect silence. This was their chance. It could be their only chance. No one wanted to be the one that caused it to fail.

“There.” Loki said simply as the third hour came to a close.

“We’ve got her.” Strange added as he let his hands fall. The tremble in them was more pronounced with the expended energy but he schooled the shaking to a minimum quickly.

“Let’s go.” Tony urged.

“No.” Loki let the strands of his power lower and settle into the stone again. He’d still not take them back into himself.

“No?” Clint asked.

“Why the hell not?” Tony’s face was red but he took a deep breath to calm himself as best he could.

“If we rush in she could die.” Loki didn’t even bother to look at Tony as he spoke.

“And if we wait, she could die.” Tony’s rush across the small room was stopped by Thor stepping in between them.

“And if we rush in with a flawed plan, she could die as a result.” Steve pointed out.

“He’s right. We need to a plan.” Natasha pushed herself off the dresser she had been leaning against. “They’ve been killing captives as soon as we move in. We can’t risk them killing her.”

A plan needed to be formulated. They couldn’t go in blind and it took every ounce of reason and self control to keep themselves in check. They would come for her. They would save her. Even if everyone else died, they would leave that building with her alive.

Subject 132 was pulled from her nightmare as the guards went about the large room lighting torches. If it was day or night, she couldn’t tell. It had been a long time since such things mattered. She slept when she slept, she was awake when she was awake.

The light flickered and danced on the concrete walls. Passively, she thought it was pretty. The torches were burning and that meant that today someone would die. They would be the lucky one. For them the pain was going to be over.

Vincent stood tall at the top of the stairs. This place wasn’t perfect but it would do. He’d take his pleasure from her one last time, he decided as he looked down at her curled into herself in her cage. Dear Subject 132, she would be the key. Once he had his fill of her he would gift her to the Gods. What better gift to give than the toy he was personally so fond of?

A smile cut its way across his face as he began to descend the stairs. With each step the sound echoed through the room. The guards lit the touches as he made his way down to the first landing.

“Today we give a gift to the Gods.”

With his arms spread wide and sleeves hanging down, he made his announcement. The robed figures below dropped to their knees and their voices cried out to him in agreement. It was music to his ears even as the guards carried on as if nothing had happened.

The ringing of his phone cut into his moment.

“This is Vincent.” It had better be important.

“They are coming for you.”

“It is unimportant.” He started down the stairs again. “I’ll have a god to destroy our enemies. He will destroy them all and turn this world into paradise.”

The team moved through the woods. It took self control not to rush in. Each of them would prefer to be there sooner rather than later. Each of them wanted to see her and know that she was alright. Each of them needed to have the light back in their lives.

Each of them needed her but Loki knew none needed her as much as he. She was his everything. She was his light. He needed her. He needed her to be safe. Loki knew she wasn’t ready to be his but unless he knew she was safe, unless she was safe enough to heal and grow he could never have her. Now that he knew he wanted her, he would have her.

“The building is up ahead.” Tony’s voice came through the communication devices. “Let’s get this over and done with. After, dinner’s on me.”

Subject 132 watched as a boy was pulled from his cage. It was hard to say how old he was. Age was so hard to tell and in the end it didn’t matter. He was just a thing to be used, just as she was. It didn’t matter how old he was. Nothing about him mattered. Just as nothing about her mattered. He was just a Subject, just a number no different than she was.

Absently she watched as the boy was marched to the alter. It would be over for him soon. He was lucky, his pain was coming to an end. Subject 132 wondered if her pain would ever end. Would she ever be allowed the release of death?

The woman with the bright eyes stepped aside. The movement drew Subject 132’s eyes away from where the boy was being placed on the alter and to the man with silk robes approaching her. He was different and she knew him on sight. She would always know him on sight, though she didn’t know a name for him.

The others were keepers, masters and guards. Some wore combat gear and guns, others wore heavy cotton robes. This man however wasn’t just a master, he was The Master. He wore robes of silk that moved around him as he walked with his head held high.

“Come, let us enjoy ourselves.” The man held out his hand to her as the woman with the too bright eyes opened the cage.

If she grabbed the hand and it was a trick, she’d be beaten. If she ignored the kindness and it wasn’t a trick, she’d be beaten. There was no way to know what the right answer was with Master. She knew however that her legs were weak and so she took his hand as she climbed out of the cage.

That was the wrong answer however. When she was leaning most of her weight on him and trying to get her legs to work under her, he yanked his hand away. The loss of support sent her crashing to the ground. Scrapes opened on her knees and blood smeared with dirt to color her skin.

“Crawl.” Master ordered and so she did.

She crawled after him as best she could on her hands and knees. She knew the dress she wore was short. That was likely part of the point. He wanted everyone to see her. Blood and dirt caked on her legs but did nothing to protect her modesty.

When they reached a padded bench the Master reached down and hauled her over it by her hair, making sure she could see the boy. It hurt but she did not cry. The pain the Master would give her as she was forced to watch the boy end his life to bring a monster into the world was nothing compared to the pain she felt nightly in her heart.

As the Master worked her body to bring himself pleasure, she didn’t react. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t fight. Fighting made it worse. In front of her she watched the boy end his pain and she smiled. For him, it was over.

The team made quick work of infiltrating the building. Every single person they ran into, Zealot or Hydra- it didn’t matter- was killed on sight. It was messy and harsh. It was out of character. It spoke to how desperate they were to have her back. It was rationalized by the more morally bound members of the team in that they had to prevent any sort of alarm being raised.

They however were functioning on emotion and adrenaline, though they tried to contain it. They were sleep deprived. They made mistakes.

First they took on too many at a time, causing some members of the team to be held behind. Contain the mess, contain the issue so as no one finds out. Easier said than done. Yet Loki and Tony raced through the rest of the building, dispatching targets as quickly as possible. It would be one of the few times they would work together as a unit, not needing much in the way of communication.

Strange was closest behind them with Thor not far behind. He would do what had to be done to protect the world regardless of the cost. Both Tony and Loki knew that and ultimately the difference in priority made them both hesitate to allow the wizard to catch up to them and join them on the front lines. Loki didn’t trust Thor’s judgment and so his brother was also pushed behind.

Stairs took them down into a basement where they found a system of tunnels. They swiftly navigated the tunnels, following the sound of chanting. As much as they wanted to rush, to run they could not. The sound of their steps already echoed down the hall. The sound of running would just tip them off.

Strange managed to catch up to them just as a large beast of a creature smashed into them. The battle was on. If the Zealots didn’t know they were coming, they did now. No one dared allow themselves to question who had died to bring this beast into existence. It was too painful to think that just maybe this beast was all that was left of her.

Subject 132 watched as the alter was rinsed of blood. Her cheek rested against the plush cushion of the bench. She made no effort to move as the sound of her blood dripping to the ground was drown out by the water running off the alter.

The guards were talking in hushed voices as loud banging came from the hall. She didn’t pay the noise much attention. It was just a game. It was just another trick. She wondered if the trick was for her or the others. Was she worth tricking like this anymore?

“Come.” Master ordered.

When she struggled to stand, struggled to move fast enough he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked. As he was dragging her behind him, she saw the portion of wall at the top of the stairs explode into fragments.

Up on the stairwell she saw them. It felt like he world came crashing down around her. The pain in her heart was again fresh and tears she didn’t know she still had gathered in her eyes.

“Hotaru!” The man in a metal suit yelled and she knew the voice.

“My Light!” Her Dark prince cut a deep gash into the beast that had been summoned from the sacrificed boy but it was not enough to down the creature. Rather than defeat it the gash seemed to only enrage it more.

Thor slammed into the beast with his hammer, driving him back into the hall. It was disturbing how the beast held up to blow after blow. Nothing seemed to do more than just knock him back.

“I’ll keep this one busy. Loki, get to her!” Another mighty swing of the hammer sent the beast back a few more steps.

Who was Hotaru? What did the Dark Prince mean by ‘his light’? Why did they bring the Dark Prince here? Why did the metal man have the voice of her brother? How did she know she had a brother? Who was her brother? Who was the prince?

“Get up here.”

Master yanked her hair again, pulling her up the stairs of the alter and toward the table as fighting continued. More people entered the room but the beast kept them all busy. Guards were cut down in the fighting along side the robed men.

Subject 132 couldn't find it in her heart to care what was happening to her. She couldn’t find it in her heart to care that the Master was pushing her against the table. It was cold and wet against her hands and knees as she pushed herself up.

“Hotaru!” Again the voice of her brother called out from across the room only to be followed up with a bang.

She looked at him. For a moment their eyes locked and Tony did the stupidest thing he could have- he took his helmet off and screamed for her again. He was distracted and one blow hit him, reminding him of the fight at hand as Thor tried to regain the attention of the beast.

Loki intercepted a blow that would have surely crushed in his unprotected skull. For a moment his eyes locked with the ocean blue of Loki’s and a silent ‘thank you’ was passed and accepted with a curt node.

They tried to focus on the beast. They tired to focus on the battle. They had to. They must. To get distracted could mean death. But none could put out of their mind that she was getting on the table, that she was laid out on the alter. They had to hurry. They had to save her. They had to make it. They had to make it in time. They had to.

Subject 132 watched as a flash of power washed over the beast. A shimmer of green and it was over. She knew however that the beast was dying before the battle had even begun. Their time was limited, they always died out on their own.

The team was battered and broken, spread thin across the large room. There were so many guards and they had to act fast. Already they had begun dispatching the captives. There was only one captive that mattered to Loki and Tony however. Only one they cared to look at.

“Let her go.” Loki’s voice carried the air of authority and a snarl of danger both through the room yet he did not yell as he walked. There was a slight hitch in his step and blood ran down his leg.

“I’d listen to him.” Tony answered, allowing the suit to support him. “We’re taking her home now.”

“Look who’s here.” Master leaned down toward her as if he was speaking a secret. “They’ve come to watch you do the only useful thing in your measly life.”

Guards surrounded them. They were tired and sore. They were injured and nothing seemed to be going right. They couldn’t get to her fast enough. They had to get to her.

Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of her for more than a moment to cut down the next guard. She was dirty. She was hurt. She was bleeding. The more he looked, the angrier he was. His power bubbled and surged within him as he let it lash out at the handful of guards surrounding him.

It wasn’t enough. He’d allowed himself to become too weak over the last few months. It was a mistake he couldn’t take back. He wasn’t strong enough after fighting the beast. He was running on empty and to continue to use his power would be drawing on the energy that kept him alive.

He’d do it. He’d give his life to save her.

He could see the fresh blood on her thighs, even from the distance they were at. It was maddening to know what they had done to her.

“They’ve come to watch you die and celebrate your death.” The man they knew as Vincent from the files spoke, his voice carrying easily over the fighting and through the room.

“Get away from her!” Tony yelled spinning to face the alter after blasting away yet another guard. His flight system was damaged by the beast. Iron Man was grounded.

“I will kill you.” Loki snarled, feeling all of the rage and pain from that fated moment in the tower so long ago up until this moment surge through him. “I will rip open your chest and crush your beating heart for what you’ve done to her.”

“Look how angry they are.” Vincent leaned down and spoke over her. “Look how much your being alive is hurting them.”

She knew what she had to do. Tears slipped from her eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the could hilt of the dagger. Not once did she think about plunging it into Master. Not once did she think about striking back. Not once did she think of spilling the blood of another.

Around the room, those in Robes who were able to began chanting anew. Their voices swelled and surged as she lifted the knife in one hand. All eyes were on her causing Loki to take a harsh blow to the head that left him disoriented for a short moment.

Loki wasted no time in killing the man that had struck him and turned his eyes back to her. He was tired. He was weak and it angered him to know he allowed himself to be. This was his fault. She was on the alter and it was his fault.

His light was on her back on an alter with a knife in her hand. He had to get to her. There was no other choice. She needed him. He needed her. She had to live. Even if he had to wait for her, even if she never wanted him again he needed her to live. She had to live.

With a roar of rage, Loki’s power lashed out around him. It was inelegant but effective in how it cut down the guards and Zealots alike. It wasn’t enough however and the enemy was still thick in the room.

Subject 132 looked back at the fighting in the room. With sadness in her heart she watched as her Dark prince took a harsh blow to the side. Blood gushed from the wound. Even from her place, she could see the pain wash across his face.

He was in pain because of her. The Dark Prince came for her. They all had come for her. Looking around, she took the room in with new eyes. They were there. All of them and they were all hurt.

Clint and Natasha were taking out guards at the top of the stairs. They both looked battle worn and bloody. It hurt to see them like that. They came for her. Or at least, maybe they did. She’d not remembered them right until now but that was okay. Now she knew who they were.

Those doubts came into her head. They always came into her head. What if this was a trick? What if it was just a game to hurt her more? What if it didn’t matter? Did it matter if it was a trick or not? If she closed her eyes and trusted, could that be all that mattered?

When she opened her eyes again she trained them on Tony. His name came to her again. She could picture his warm brown eyes smiling at her. He was battered but his suit looked to be holding up just the same. Damage had been taken because of her. Pain was felt because of her.

With tears in her eyes, she looked to the Doctor. He was the one who first offered her comfort all that time ago. It was with him she first found some semblance of safety. He stood behind her Dark Prince and Tony. Strange, she knew that was his name now. With each breath she took, she remembered more and more.

Her eyes moved on and settled on him. Her Dark Prince, Loki. She remembered their times together. With a shaking breath, she remembered the feel of his lips against hers. If it had all been a game, it was worth losing. The memories were worth the pain. As tears slipped from her eyes, she decided she would always remember.

‘I forgive you.’ With no voice, she could only mouth the words and hope that they would understand. ‘I love you all. I love you, Loki.’

Time seemed to stand still for Loki he watched her speak the words. No sound was needed. Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. The words she mouthed sounded far too much like ‘goodbye’ for his taste.

Tony had the same idea and pushed forward recklessly as Thor came to his side only to be ordered to get to Hotaru. Time was running out. Whatever was about to happen, it had to be stopped.

Time marched on at an unforgiving pace however. Loki was so close, close enough that he could see the tears she cried as she plunged the dagger into her soft belly. Blood welled up from the wound as she pulled the blade up. It sliced her open easily and only stopped when the blade hit her sternum.

“Hotaru!”

The world stopped around him as he called her name. Tony’s voice echoed his call but he did not hear it. He did not hear the chanting of the Zealots. All he knew, all he saw was the red of her blood pouring out of her. It spilled down her sides and pooled on the table before dripping onto the ground.

That dripping was the only thing Loki could hear. The well of his power was nearly dry yet he reached out to her with what he had left. With all the power he had left he listened to the steady beating of her heart for a brief moment and then a silence that let the world back in.

“No.” Tony choked on the word somewhere behind him.

Around him, the last of his power flared out and cut down not nearly enough of the robed men to make him feel better. A rage and hurt bloomed in his chest that rivaled the pain he felt when his mother died.

“Hotaru.” Loki’s voice cracked even as he stalked forward, “I will make you pay for this. It will be slow. You will beg for death.”

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