#mockingbird au!

[jackhues]

how'd you make it? - mockingbird! au (platonic! hughes)

requested by: @toasttt11 , anon :)) - combined two bcz they fit rlly well

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3 this ones got a focus on luke, but there's a cute quinn moment! ALSO, there's a cute surprise in this one, hope you guys like it (takes place in summer '24)

likes are good, reblogs are better <33

mockingbird! au request rules!|| mockingbird au! masterlist

gif not mine

"go back outside," you laughed, shoving jack's face away from yours.

you were at the hughes' lake house for the summer, spending most of your time wakesurfing, swimming, and hanging out on the boat. today was the one day you wanted to stay inside on the couch and finish the book you'd bought while the boys had the day to themselves.

of course, jack had other plans.

"i don't wanna," he groaned, plopping down on top of you.

"jack!" you laughed, trying to shove him off of you. finally, you gave up, putting your book to the side to let jack lay on top of you.

"why don't you wanna go outside?" you asked him softly.

"because i wanna spend time with you," he answered simply. "quinn went out with his girlfriend to that chinese place for lunch, and it's awkward being the only one with luke and his girlfriend. they're like... weird hormonal teenagers."

"oh, so it's because your brothers are gone that you're spending time with me," you rolled your eyes, laughing a bit.

"even without that, i'd still wanna be with you," he answered in a matter-of-fact voice. "it's why i'm gonna marry you."

"jack, stop making me blush," you hit his shoulder lightly.

"what," he laughed, pulling away. "there's a ring on your finger for a reason."

you smiled, admiring the way he looked at you with such adoration in his eyes. he acted like it was so simple. like he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and that was that. in some case, you supposed it was simple.

before meeting jack, you wouldn't have been able to imagine something like that, let alone believe someone could love you that much. but he changed that.

and you loved him so much for it.

"you're thinking," he said, getting up off of you and helping you sit up. "is it good or bad?"

"it's good," you promised. "i'm just thinking about how much i love you."

he grinned stupidly at that answer, "well of course you do. with these killer looks, how could you not?"

"you're such an-"

"luke! luke, what's wrong?"

your laughter was cut off as luke marched angrily past you and up the stairs and towards his room. behind him, ellen followed.

"i don't wanna talk," luke called, causing ellen to stop.

you and jack got up from the couch, making your way to the base of the stairs by ellen.

"what's wrong?" you asked. "why'd he storm up to his room?"

"i have no idea," ellen sighed tiredly. "he just came inside looking all mad, and then ran up."

jack furrowed his brows, "i thought he was outside with his girlfriend."

"did something happen with them, maybe?" you asked.

"i don't know," ellen muttered. she looked up the stairs, where luke had headed. "i'm going to go check on him. you two don't worry about him, i'll make sure he's okay."

you and jack nodded, letting ellen check on luke.

"are we sure it's not something bad?" jack asked you. "what if he's really upset over something?"

"ellen went to check on him," you reminded him. "it's better not to overwhelm him right now. we can go check on him afterwards if you want."

jack nodded, agreeing. "yeah, you're right."

the two of you headed towards the kitchen to take out your lunch. you and jack took a seat on the table, across of jim.

"did you finish your book yet?" he asked you.

"i would've, but someone didn't let me," you sent jack a look.

he held his hands up, a guilty look on his face.

jim looked up as ellen made her way back down. "any luck with luke?"

"he's asking for y/n," she said, looking at you. "honey, could you go upstairs and see what's going on?"

"yeah, of course," you answered, a little shocked.

jack squeezed your hand as you walked by, heading up to luke's room. you knocked on the door, waiting for an answer.

"go away," he muttered from the other side.

"luke, it's me," you called. "ellen said you wanted to talk to me."

you heard some shuffling, before luke said softly, "you can come in."

you opened the door, finding luke sitting on the floor next to his bed. he sat against the wall, his knees folded up to his chest and his head down. he didn't even look up as you entered.

"hi lukey," you said softly, sitting next to him. "you okay?"

luke sniffed, looking up at you with red rimmed eyes. "not really."

"c'mere," you muttered, pulling his head into your lap.

luke lay his head down, allowing you to softly run your fingers through his curls. his tears slowly subsided, and you waited calmly as he built up the courage to talk.

"how'd you stay with jack?" he asked finally. "like, it's been five years, and you guys are getting married in a few months, and not once have you guys even thought about breaking up. how?"

you pursed your lips, pondering the question. truth was, it took a long time for you to be this open and accepting to jack's love. you'd never received that same love as a kid, and never imagined to receive it as an adult.

"it's not easy," you answered him finally. "we were young, eighteen year olds when we met. i never even had a boyfriend before him. and then jack was some famous nhl player, and everyone knew him, and everyone hated that i was with him. but... honestly, we grew up together. we matured together. we made mistakes, but we learned to communicate and understand each other. it takes a lot, but we managed somehow."

you ran a hand through luke's curls, "i'm gonna take a wild guess and say something happened with you and your girlfriend. am i right?"

luke nodded sadly. "she-- she cheated on me. and then, and then she just said it like it was nothing. and then she started talking bad about you and jack, about how you guys probably aren't even a real couple, and i just-- i got mad. i told her she can go and do whatever she wants because i'm done." he looked up at you, "did i make a mistake?"

"no, no, you didn't," you assured him. "cheating's a choice, one that she made. when i said jack and i didn't have it easy, that's not what i meant. i meant that we both had things to work on in the start of our relationship. he was dealing with a lot of stuff with his rookie year, and i was still learning what a healthy relationship looks like. we worked on our relationship together."

"thanks, y/n," he smiled, closing his eyes a little. "that helps."

"anytime lukey," you smiled. "anytime."

--

outside the door, quinn smiled to himself.

he was walking past the room after his date, hearing your and luke's conversation. he'd spent the last four years doing everything to show you that you were family, that you were part of the hughes.

he was happy to see that you were believing it.

---

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv ,  @hockeyboysarehot , @jimothystu, @mysticaldonkey ,  @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91  , @moldenhauers, @hischierdevils, @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes ,  @mitchymainer ,  @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002  ,  @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj , @fandom-oneshots-etc , @ajbird18 , @cherrysodadevils , @cixrosie , @iikximii , @xcicix , @wbkz3gras , @cole-mcward48 , @starjoyyy , @eagerkya , @idontlikelizards , @trevzeags11 , @al-lie-cat , @kjohnson-91 , @bitchy55 , @privatemythss

join my taglist!

[doctorsiren]

Part 6

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[disastrousduckss]

To make up for not updating, here ya go!! Branch use to call his dad "Blaze" when he was younger dbsnsn

(click for better quality)

And angst for the au

Mockingbird AU x Parent! John Dory

(I tried to match his emotion with making JDs sketch messy but idk if I did him justice snsnsn)

[jackhues]

PART ONE OF THE NEW AU IS HERE!!

begging someone to write a Jack Hughes imagine but it’s more so focused on y/n’s relationship with Quinn and how he’s become a close big brother figure for y/n.

i got this idea from the edit audio going around on tiktok of the eminem song with “if you ask me to, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, i’mma give you the world. i’mma buy a diamond ring for you, i’mma sing for you, i’ll do anything for you to see you smile”

like maybe y/n had a shitty relationship with their dad growing up and now that y/n is dating Jack, despite the only a few year age difference, Quinn has kinda stepped in as kind of like a protective parental figure who just cares about y/n so much that he’s willing to do anything to make sure y/n knows they’re cared for and loved?

idk maybe it’s my daddy issues popping out but i need this and i don’t have the energy to write it myself 😭

[definitely-a-vampire]

Happy November 1st to all who celebrate :)

[rainforestakiie]

Some people play with the idea that Angels have something acute to bird dances to those they court. Something like hummingbirds, they have certain feathers that give a semblance of a sound depending on how they move them with the wind. Literally making a song through dancing, it’s beauty depending on skill and practice. And Lucifer has six. Of course, Adam would have no idea about this nor have the state of mind to gasp its meaning. But, wouldn’t it be cute, after helping Lucifer clean his wings, he takes all the lose feathers and tires braiding it into his own hair. And tries innocently mimicking the dance back to Lucifer.

awww that would be so cute~

i love the thought of it! ahhh!

Adam was gently stirred from his slumber by the most exquisite melody he had ever encountered. The sound danced through the sweet air of Eden, caressing his senses and painting a blush across his cheeks. He blinked his emerald eyes open, sitting up from where he had been nestled among the soft, newly blossomed carnations. Their delicate red petals, like whispers against his skin, had lulled him into sleep.

But now, something far more enchanting had awakened him, a sound that drifted through the trees, making the leaves sway in a joyful, glorious dance. Adam yawned softly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes as he gazed around in wonder. No bird in Eden had ever sung such a captivating song. It was as curious as it was beautiful.

With careful, almost reverent movements, Adam extricated himself from the bed of carnations and stood on his wobbly feet. He squinted at the bright, cloudless sky, where the sun bathed everything in a golden, otherworldly glow. The day was as perfect as any in Eden, yet something extraordinary was calling to him.

With a puzzled hum, Adam began to follow the sound. It was sweet and tender, a melody that seemed to weave through the trees like a delicate thread, drawing him closer. As he walked, he passed the animals of Eden, each one serene and at peace. He paused to gently stroke the head of a mother deer, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he admired her three spotted fawns, nestled close to her side. All the creatures had gathered, captivated by the same lovely sound.

What could it be?

The sound was like a magnet, irresistibly pulling him from his secret sanctuary among the carnations. Even the Angels never found him there, hidden deep within the bed of red flowers. Yet now, he moved through the herds of peaceful animals, his skin tingling as he drew nearer to the source of the mysterious melody. A flush spread over his body, deepening as he finally reached a towering tree.

Adam's heart was pounding, its rhythm echoing in his ears and filling his chest with a sweet ache. He couldn’t fathom why he felt so nervous, so anxious. His hands trembled as he reached out to touch the warm bark of the tree, the sound growing even sweeter, as if beckoning him to step out from his hiding place.

A shiver traced its way up his spine, as if the melody itself was caressing him, its notes brushing against his skin like the softest of touches. Adam almost curled up beneath the tree, overwhelmed by the sensation. But gathering his courage, he inched to the side and peeked around the tree trunk. His breath caught in his throat, his apple-green eyes widening in awe.

The sight before him was breathtaking, more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.

The enchanting melody was coming from his angel, his guardian Archangel, Lucifer. Perched gracefully high up in the tree, the angel looked utterly divine. His soft blue cheeks glowed as he sang, the sound pouring from his cherry-red lips. All six of his wings were spread wide, their iridescent feathers shimmering with the sunlight, casting a dazzling array of colours throughout the small clearing in Eden. Adam had never seen Lucifer's wings shine so brilliantly, each feather like a tiny prism of light.

But Lucifer wasn't alone. A small gathering of birds surrounded him, their wings fluttering in harmony with his, adding their own sweet notes to the symphony. Adam gasped softly, his heart swelling with emotion as Lucifer's sparkling sapphire eyes opened and locked onto his own, as if the angel had known he was there all along.

Startled, Adam ducked back behind the tree, his pulse racing. Yet the divine melody didn't falter; it only grew louder and more insistent, urging him to look again. And when their eyes met once more, Lucifer slipped from the branch with a graceful ease, his glowing wings twinkling like the stars in the night sky.

Lucifer, with an impish glint in his sapphire eyes, began to glide effortlessly through the air, imitating the courtship dance of the birds around him. He dipped and swooped with breathtaking grace, his movements so fluid they seemed to merge with the melody that still filled the air. Each dive was a display of elegance, his wings shimmering with an ethereal light as they caught the sun’s rays. He twisted in the air, performing acrobatics that defied gravity, his every motion a flawless blend of power and beauty.

Adam watched, utterly enchanted. His breath hitched each time Lucifer ascended into the sky, only to plummet with a swift, controlled descent, the arch of his wings catching him just before he reached the ground. The archangel’s performance was hypnotic, a mesmerising dance that seemed to be crafted just for him. 

Every so often, Adam would find himself overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he would duck back behind the tree, his heart pounding in his chest, only to hear Lucifer's melodic voice calling to him once more, coaxing him out of hiding.

The angel's song, sweeter than any earthly tune, floated through the air like a tender caress, its notes wrapping around Adam and pulling him back into the open. Lucifer was patient, his voice a gentle lure, each phrase of the song like a delicate thread weaving its way into Adam's heart. He would peek out again, unable to resist the pull, and each time he did, Lucifer would flash him a playful smile, his wings flickering like a thousand tiny stars.

Lucifer’s pendulum flight was the most captivating of all. He soared high above, then allowed himself to swing back and forth in a graceful arc, as if he were the pendulum of some grand celestial clock, marking the passage of time with each elegant swing. The way his wings caught the light, refracting it into a kaleidoscope of colours, left Adam breathless. It was as if the entire sky had been painted with the hues of Lucifer’s feathers, creating a dazzling display that filled Eden with a radiant glow.

Every movement Lucifer made was a silent invitation, a beckoning for Adam to come closer, to share in this moment of divine beauty. Adam felt his heart swell with an emotion he couldn’t name, a mixture of awe, longing, and something sweeter, deeper. Each time he retreated behind the tree, it was with a pounding heart and flushed cheeks, only to be drawn out again by the angel’s persistent song.

Finally, as Lucifer performed another series of spiralling dives, his laughter—light and musical—rippled through the air, mingling with the songbirds that had gathered to join in his performance. Adam’s eyes widened as Lucifer soared straight up, only to dive with breathtaking speed, pulling up just before touching the earth, his wings spreading wide to catch the air in a final, triumphant arc.

Adam’s heart raced as he shifted once more behind the tree, his cheeks aflame with a warmth that only intensified with each passing moment. He watched as the birds that had danced alongside Lucifer fluttered away, drawn toward smaller, more delicate companions of their own kind. Their playful courtship made Adam’s heart flutter, a strange shyness settling over him as he observed their tender interactions.

“Adam?” Lucifer’s voice, soft and melodic, called out to him, his tone a gentle chirp that mimicked the birds. The sound was impossible to resist.

Peeking out from behind the tree at the call of his name, Adam startled, a soft yelp escaping his lips as he found Lucifer suddenly on the other side. The Archangel was hovering effortlessly, his back arched as his hands lightly touched the bark of the tree, his fingers mere inches from Adam’s. Their closeness sent Adam’s pulse into overdrive, his breath catching as Lucifer’s glowing eyes locked onto his own. The angel’s cherry-red lips curled into a sweet, wide smile that made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

The air between them was thick with an unspoken connection, a bond that had been woven through the dance, the song, and the sheer, overwhelming beauty of the moment. Lucifer tilted his head slightly, that knowing smile deepening as he inched closer, his voice a soft melody that wrapped around Adam like a warm embrace.

“Why do you hide from me?” Lucifer asked, his tone teasing yet filled with a deep affection that made Adam’s heart race even faster.

“I—I…” Adam stammered, his words failing him as he struggled to find a response. The angel’s presence was overwhelming, a mixture of awe and comfort that left him breathless. Finally, he managed to whisper, “I—I couldn’t help it. You’re… so beautiful.”

Lucifer’s smile broadened, his expression tender as he reached out, cupping Adam’s cheek with a soft, warm hand. The touch sent a delightful shiver down Adam’s spine, and he instinctively leaned into it, his eyes fluttering closed as he exhaled a shaky breath.

“You’re so cute,” Lucifer murmured, his voice laced with amusement as his wings continued to shimmer in the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors around them. “Did you enjoy my song and dance?”

Adam’s eyes flew open, surprise coloring his voice as he gasped, “That’s what it was? A song and dance?”

“Yep,” Lucifer chuckled, stepping back slightly as his feet touched the ground, his six wings ruffling and stretching wide. He ran his hands over his iridescent feathers, his blue eyes glancing down at them with a fond smile. “I was singing and dancing to impress you.”

“Impress me?” Adam echoed, his gaze fixated on Lucifer as the angel’s fingers brushed through his feathers with such care. “Why?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Lucifer teased, his voice playful as he chirped once more like the birds around them. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he took in Adam’s captivated expression, a grin spreading across his face as he stepped forward, gently curling his hand around Adam’s wrist. With a gentle tug, he guided Adam down to their knees on the soft grass of Eden.

“Would you be kind enough to help me with my wings?” Lucifer asked sweetly, his tone dripping with charm. He knew what he was doing. “I need to groom them, and with so many feathers, it’ll be a real pain to do it all by myself.”

“Yes!” Adam exclaimed eagerly, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lucifer, his heart swelling with the desire to help.

Lucifer laughed softly, a sound like the tinkling of bells, before leaning in to nuzzle his cheek against Adam’s. The gesture was affectionate, almost intimate, and it sent a wave of warmth flooding through Adam. “Aw, you’re so sweet and kind, Adam,” Lucifer purred, his voice filled with genuine affection. “Always so willing to help the little old me.”

Adam’s heart soared at the angel’s words, his hand reaching out to gently touch the soft, iridescent feathers of Lucifer’s wings. He felt as though he was floating in a dream, the world around them fading away. He adored Lucifer’s wings, finding them so soft under his hands. 

“Adam~” Lucifer chuckled, his voice a melodic tease as he reached up to Adam’s hair, gently plucking a red petal nestled among the soft curls.

Adam gasped, his eyes widening as he watched Lucifer bring the petal to his lips, the angel’s tongue flicking out to taste it. A blush bloomed across Adam’s cheeks, his breath hitching at the sight. “Um, well, they’re—from my… carnations,” he stammered, his voice trembling with shyness. “I-I have a carnation bed now…”

“Oh, do you?” Lucifer purred, his voice smooth and filled with a sweet, almost playful curiosity. His fingers traced delicately along Adam’s skin, following the soft blue veins that pulsed beneath the surface, each touch purposeful and electric. Lucifer’s gaze drifted to the red petals woven throughout Adam’s hair, his pretty blue eyes sparkling with admiration. The sight was so endearing, so utterly charming, that Lucifer found himself wishing the petals could stay forever nestled in Adam’s hair.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding?” Lucifer’s tone was laced with amusement, yet there was a gentle affection behind his words, as if he already knew the answer.

“Um, not hiding, j-just…” Adam’s voice faltered, his words trailing off as the warmth in his cheeks deepened. His entire face was a vibrant shade of red, especially as Lucifer released a series of those endearing bird-like chirps, the sound playful and sweet.

Lucifer’s laughter bubbled up again, light and musical as he leaned in closer. “You’re even more adorable when you blush,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, sending a shiver down Adam’s spine. Lucifer’s fingers continued their gentle exploration, tracing patterns along Adam’s skin as if committing every detail to memory.

Adam’s heart raced, his thoughts a jumbled mess as he tried to find the words to respond. But all he could manage was a shy smile, his eyes flickering up to meet Lucifer’s as he felt the angel’s warmth enveloping him, both in body and spirit. Every touch, every word, every glance between them was filled with a tenderness that left Adam feeling as if he were floating, lost in the overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

"Hmm," Lucifer sang out, his voice a soft, melodious hum that sent another familiar shudder down Adam's spine. The sound wrapped around him, making his heart flutter in his chest. Lucifer’s gaze lifted to the red petal in his hand, holding it with delicate fingers before finally releasing it to the wind. They both watched as it was whisked away, dancing through the air like a tiny flame. "I bet the petals would look lovely with my wings."

Adam blinked, his mind immediately conjuring the image. He could see it so clearly—Lucifer’s shimmering wings adorned with the vibrant red petals, each one adding a touch of fiery beauty to the angel's already breathtaking form. His hands trembled slightly as he continued to clean the wing closest to him, his fingers moving through the soft feathers just as Lucifer had taught him. The task was soothing, almost meditative, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Lucifer’s words, to the way his heart raced at the mere idea.

As he worked, Adam noticed the loose feathers that effortlessly fell away, their beauty still intact despite their shedding. They were perfectly healthy, each one a masterpiece of nature’s design. Adam had never quite understood why Lucifer’s wings shed them; they appeared flawless. It always seemed such a waste when Lucifer simply discarded them.

"Can I have these?" Adam asked quietly, gathering the feathers into his hands, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucifer hummed sweetly, the sound much too close for comfort, and Adam felt the angel’s warm breath tickling his cheek. His cheeks flushed with heat, and his heart stuttered as Lucifer gazed down at the feathers, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "Sure. You can keep whatever you want, Addie."

"O-Oh," Adam stammered, the affectionate nickname sending a jolt of warmth through him. He shuddered again, instinctively shuffling forward in a vain attempt to create some distance between them. But it was no use. Lucifer simply shifted his wing, the one Adam had been cleaning, blocking any chance of escape. The human found himself trapped in the most tender of cages, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "T-Thank you."

Lucifer’s smile broadened into a radiant beam as he let out a low, satisfied purr. Before Adam could react, the angel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his lap with effortless grace. Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he found himself enveloped by Lucifer’s warmth, the angel’s soft feathers brushing against his skin like the gentlest of caresses.

Adam could barely think, his mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being so close to Lucifer. The steady beat of the angel’s heart beneath his ear was a lullaby, soothing and rhythmic, grounding him even as his emotions threatened to spiral out of control. He was lost in the moment, in the feel of Lucifer’s arms around him, the sweet scent of the angel’s skin, and the comforting weight of his wings wrapped protectively around them both.

~#~

A full week had passed since Lucifer had given Adam the feathers, and now, Adam found himself with a collection of beautiful, iridescent treasures. He held one between his fingers, tilting it in the sunlight, gasping as it shimmered like a rainbow. As he marvelled at its beauty, a soft hum emanated from the feather, a sound so reminiscent of Lucifer's enchanting song that it sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.

Adam didn’t understand the things Lucifer did, and it often left him bewildered. The Archangel seemed to take great joy in Adam’s confusion, and though it puzzled him, it also caused his heart to race in a rhythm that sometimes made him pause, pressing a hand to his chest to calm the flurry of emotions within. The memory of Lucifer’s captivating dance lingered in his mind, refusing to fade, no matter how hard he tried to focus on other things. It had become such an obsession that he found himself watching the birds—Mockingbirds, he had recently named them—performing the same dance for their partners. He didn’t understand the significance of it at the time, but later, he would wonder how he could have been so blind.

Now, as he gazed at the feathers laid out before him, Adam shuffled his hair and settled onto his knees. He began to braid the feathers into his hair with gentle hands, working quietly and with focused determination. He wasn’t intending for anyone, least of all Lucifer, to see him. Lucifer had told him just yesterday that he would be away for a few days, as Heaven had grown much too busy with the birth of the first woman. Lucifer hadn’t seemed too pleased with the development but had appeared relieved when Adam showed no interest in the thought of the woman.

Adam didn’t know where the idea had come from, but it had appeared in his mind as soon as he woke up that morning, squirming in his bed of carnations. The thought was persistent, refusing to leave him until he acted on it. So he continued threading the feathers through his hair with as much care and gentleness as possible. Once he was sure he was done, he crawled toward the lake bank, peeking at his reflection in the water, and giggled. The sunlight shone over him, catching the feathers and creating a small, sparkling rainbow around him.

Adam giggled even more as the Mockingbirds seemed to take notice. A few landed on the branches above him, perching together and peeking down at him with curious eyes. Immediately, they released a chorus of chirps and calls of delight. Adam smiled up at them, pushing himself to his feet before twirling around with joyful abandon, spreading his arms wide and bowing in their direction.

“What do you all think?” he called out innocently, his voice light and carefree.

The Mockingbirds responded with another chorus of sweet calls, beginning to hum together in an adorable tune that made Adam’s heart swell with happiness. He grinned widely, twirling around once more as the Mockingbirds leapt off the branches to dance around him. Their wings caught the sunlight, reflecting the same colourful patterns that adorned Adam’s hair, and together, they created a dazzling display of light and colour that filled the air with a joyful, harmonious energy.

Adam’s heart raced with excitement as he watched the Mockingbirds dance around him, their wings flashing in the sunlight like tiny rainbows. The memory of Lucifer’s enchanting performance played vividly in his mind, and an idea began to take shape—a desire to mimic the beautiful, fluid movements he had seen, to feel the same joy that had radiated from Lucifer and the birds.

Taking a deep breath, Adam spread his arms wide, imagining them as wings, and began to move. He twirled on the balls of his feet, trying to replicate the graceful dives and acrobatics that Lucifer had performed so effortlessly in the air. Without wings, he had to stay grounded, but that didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. He leaped and spun, his feet barely touching the ground as he attempted to mimic the pendulum flight, swinging his body in a rhythmic motion that made him feel as if he were flying, if only for a moment.

The Mockingbirds, sensing his intent, joined in with exuberant chirps and trills. They swooped and soared around him, weaving through the air in intricate patterns that mirrored the very dance Lucifer had taught them. Their song was the same one Lucifer had sung—a melodious, enchanting tune that filled the garden with warmth and light. 

Adam moved to the rhythm, his heart swelling with a joy so pure it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

He was so caught up in the moment, so lost in the dance, that he didn’t notice the presence that had quietly returned to the garden. Lucifer, having descended from Heaven earlier than expected, let out a gasp of wonder as he caught the sight. The Archangel moved high up into the trees, gazing down at Adam with a mixture of amusement and deep affection.

Adam’s movements were clumsy compared to the Archangel’s, but there was something endearing about the way he tried so earnestly to recreate the dance. He leaped and spun with all the grace he could muster, his laughter mingling with the Mockingbirds’ song. The feathers in his hair shimmered in the sunlight, catching the same rainbow hues as the birds’ wings, making him look like a part of the vibrant, living tapestry of Eden.

Lucifer’s heart swelled with love as he watched, a soft smile curving his lips. There was something almost magical about seeing Adam, the first human, so full of life and wonder, moving with such joy in the garden they both cherished. The Archangel had always found delight in Adam’s innocence, but this—seeing him dance, hearing his laughter—this was something else entirely. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered beauty, and Lucifer found himself utterly captivated.

As Adam continued to twirl and leap, completely unaware of his audience, Lucifer felt a wave of warmth wash over him. The human’s delight was infectious, and soon, without thinking, Lucifer began to hum along with the Mockingbirds’ song, his voice blending seamlessly with theirs, adding a richness to the tune that made Adam pause mid-twirl.

Breathless and flushed, Adam froze in place, his eyes wide as the familiar sound reached his ears. Slowly, he turned toward the source, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Lucifer perched high in the trees again, watching him with a gaze so full of love it made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

“Lucifer!” Adam exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He immediately stopped his clumsy dance, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as he realised he had been caught.

With a clap of his hands, Lucifer grinned. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re finished? Don’t stop on my account, Addie~”

“Um…” Adam blushed even brighter than before. 

Lucifer slipped off the branch and approached Adam with a playful glint in his eyes. “You were doing wonderfully.”

Adam’s embarrassment melted away at Lucifer’s words, replaced by a shy smile. “I was just… trying to do what you and the Mockingbirds did,” he admitted, his voice soft. “But I don’t have wings, so…”

Lucifer’s smile widened, and he reached out, gently brushing a stray feather from Adam’s hair. 

“You don’t need wings to dance, Adam. Your heart is what makes it beautiful.” He glanced at the Mockingbirds still circling above, their song continuing in harmony with the garden around them. “And it seems they agree.”

Adam’s heart swelled with happiness at Lucifer’s praise, and without thinking, he moved closer, his hand slipping into Lucifer’s. 

“Would you dance with me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but full of hopeful anticipation.

Lucifer’s eyes softened, and with a tender smile, he nodded. “Of course,” he whispered back, his voice carrying the same enchanting melody that had first drawn Adam to him.

Together, hand in hand, they danced beneath the dappled light of Eden’s trees, surrounded by the vibrant chorus of Mockingbirds. Though Adam remained on the ground, and Lucifer’s wings spread in elegant arcs around them, it felt as though they were both soaring through the air, caught up in a moment of pure, unbridled joy that would linger in Adam’s heart forever.

[iamumbra195]

I was thinking about alternate vigilante names for little Jason and I feel like Mockingbird just fits perfectly.

Mockingbirds are intelligent birds that can mimic and imitate the calls and sounds of various animals (which goes with that one post I saw about little Jason learning to mimic Nightwing and Batman's voices so criminals would be caught off guard when they got their ass kicked by Robin or Red Hood, later on). Mockingbirds are also great at hiding and can easily be overlooked, unlike let's say, a Robin. :)

A big part of little Jason's character was also family and wild Mockingbirds are some of the most vicious when it comes to safeguarding their family, symbolizing safety, family unity, and firm boundaries.

In To Kill a Mockingbird the death of a Mockingbird is a representation of the loss of innocence, specifically by coming into contact with evil.

Jason being killed by the Joker after doing his best to protect Sheila, destroying Bruce and their family unit in a way that they never fully recovered from, coming back with none of the hope and innocence he had once had.

Is that not perfect or am I just crazy?

I know the mysterious leader of the Secret Six is called Mockingbird in DC but I love this so much.

Also, the name Robin remaining a sole part of Dick's identity and him deciding to give that piece of himself to Damian rather than it being forcibly taken away like in canon makes me ridiculously happy

[wyrmswears]

OBSESSED with your Mockingbird AU, take some head canons (you can discard if they don't align /gen)

Something something Cole sensing something is wrong but not knowing what because he was a ghost for a bit and is more attuned to that now (but is too distracted by the screaming earth to realize exactly what he's feeling)

Something something Jay's only context for ghosts being cursed like his best friend Cole and an angry painful possession of Lloyd via a vengeful Morro so of course he's going to freak out about Libber regardless of who it is

Something something the element of lightning revolting against Libber because it's Jay's now and wants to defend him

GRAHHH I LOVE PEOPLE COMING UP WITH HEADCANONS FOR MY AUS<3333 OGH AUGH OK OK

(This is for my Mockingbird AU)

This first one I fuck with so much. Cole just knowing that something’s wrong. There’s an unsettling familiarity to Jay, one that reminds Cole of himself (or who he was), but he can’t determine the actual cause. I’m eating that up and hitting it with the ‘canon’ hammer. Bam bam bam. It’s so good especially because that familiarity then contrasts how unfamiliar this Jay is in every other way.

The second one is absolutely true, Jay’s never exactly had a pleasant encounter with a ghost, but I will say that I’m not sure Jay is even aware he’s being possessed in this AU. His experience of possession isn’t the same as Lloyd’s where he was aware of everything that was happening - Jay is unconscious for the most part (because he and Libber are genetically similar, his body is much more happy to relinquish control to her). He struggles initially, and possibly in future circumstances, but that’s less a battle against Libber for control and more against unconsciousness, and what he probably perceives in the moment to be death. When Libber possesses him in a desperate attempt to regain life, Jay thinks that he might be dying.

The element of lightning revolting against Libber?? Canon!! I actually drew that as one of the first sketches I did of this AU but it’s the only one I didn’t post. Have it now to make up for my foolishness.

She doesn’t wield lightning as fluently as Jay does (or as she used to) while in his body, making her attacks dangerously powerful and much more indiscriminate.

Thank you so so much for this ask it was so fun GRAHHH<333

[rainintheevening]

🍁🍁Comfy-vember 🍁🍁

Day 9: Scars

Grant Ward & Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD, Saving Grant Ward AU, aftermath of torture, non-sexualized bathing/washing, the author does not recommend postponing medical care for a shower

---------

The first thing Grant demanded was a shower.

"It's been three weeks, okay? You don't want me in your medbay like this."

Simmons stood with her arms crossed over her chest, frowning down at him where he sat on the Quinjet, which had just touched down in the Playground's hanger. "Just because Trip splinted your leg and I gave you some anesthetic, doesn't mean it isn't serious. You need to get the bone set, and I'm worried about infection. Never mind your shoulder—heaven only knows what those x-rays are going to look like."

Phil stayed seated, feeling Grant's weight leaning into him, though it was less than it had been before. Before Garrett, before HYDRA, before he'd been on the run. There was no denying Grant was a mess—greasy hair grown too long and falling in his eyes, ragged jacket and jeans bearing mud and tree sap smears, a fading black eye, and that nasty red scar in front of one ear that ran down to his neck. But he was here! He was safe, he was home, he was back where he belonged. Phil's kid was home again, and the joy of that overwhelmed any grief or fear for now.

"Medbay is built for messes, man." Trip grinned down at his old buddy. "Think about how many people puke in there."

"I'm with Ward," Fitz put in, hovering over Jemma's shoulder. "He should- um- er–"

"Shower." Jemma's whisper was barely audible.

"–shower if he wa-would like to."

"Thank you, Fitz." Grant opened his eyes to smile at the younger agent. "I'm taking a shower," he said again to Simmons. "I'll get back to you in an hour. In the medbay."

Phil knew that tone, and smiled up at the agents clustered in front of them, now including May; Skye lingered warily in the cockpit. It hit him suddenly that they were all here. Grant, May, Fitzsimmons, Skye, Trip. The whole team, reunited.

But he shook off the warm surge of emotion. Grant had to be cared for. "You're not budging him, guys, sorry."

"And what if you fall and break something else?" Simmons argued. "Splitting your skull open in the shower isn't exactly unheard of, and you're not exactly stable."

Grant sighed, sitting straighter so he could turn his head to look at Phil. "Dad?"

That tired little murmur had Phil swallowing hard, nodding before he answered: "Of course. Don't worry," to Simmons. "I'll go with him."

Grant shifted his weight to stand, and Phil moved quickly, ducking under the good right arm, as he levered himself up on the good left leg.

"At least let us get you a stretcher or a wheelchair." Simmons's hands fluttered out in a helpless gesture.

Stiffly, Grant patted her arm with his free hand, made more awkward by the damaged shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, Jemma. But I'm walking in there."

"He's not unconscious," Trip shrugged, moving to Grant's other side, but Fitz had beat him to it.

"Alright, we've got you," Fitz said, his arm joining Coulson's around Grant's waist.

Grant's smile was soft, and he nudged his chin against the curly hair at his shoulder. "Thanks, Leo."

The pure love and hero worship in Fitz's answering look would have melted anyone's heart.

By the time they made it to the bottom of the ramp, though, Phil was wishing Grant had taken Jemma's offer. Even with the local anesthetic in his leg, and the age of his shoulder wound, he moved slow and painful, only the hiss of his breathing betraying what must have been agony. He'd lost enough weight that Phil could have comfortably carried him, but he doubted Grant would agree to that with such an entourage.

That thought was cemented when the second set of heavy doors slid open to the main hall, and instantly a wave of applause washed over them.

Dozens of agents of all ranks and duties lined both sides of the hall, clapping and cheering as Grant stood frozen. Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw him go first white, then red under the dirt and sweat.

"They're all the ones you saved," came May's calm voice behind them. "At Rabbit's Run and Carlton Place and Foxhole. They know what you did for them."

Most of them were hostages released in the wake of Grant's silent but deadly run on the HYDRA ranks. He'd assassinated almost a hundred HYDRA agents and operatives in the US and Europe, all in the span of two months, and while carrying a bullet in his shoulder. Not even Natasha could match that, Phil thought, pride welling in his chest.

As they came down into the hall, Agent Morse stepped forward, a genuine smile tugging at her lips.

"Baby Bird." Grant nodded at her.

"Baby Hawk." She grinned. "Welcome back."

Phil wanted to chuckle at the normalcy of their friendly banter, but he could feel Grant's arm trembling around his neck, Grant using all his strength to stand tall in front of the crowd.

"I suppose I have you to blame for this circus."

"Nah, it was Mack's idea."

"Mack." Grant smiled faintly over toward the big man. "Now if you'll excuse me, Birdy, I need a shower."

"And then medical attention," Simmons piped up rather crossly.

"Yeah, that's obvious." Concern creased Bobbi's forehead as she took in his current state. "Well, I certainly won't stand in your way." She stepped back into the line of agents on the left.

"Showers are down two levels with the bunks," Phil said softly, as they stepped forward again. "We'll take the elevator. Straight ahead, then to the right."

Grant did not reply, he was exerting every effort to limp as strongly and steadily as possible down that hall. Some of the agents they passed stood to attention and saluted, some just nodded or tapped a fist over their heart.

What a contrast to the outrage and anger that had gripped the surviving SHIELD members after they saw the footage from the Treehouse massacre—Grant Ward following John Garrett as obediently as a leashed dog. Phil, had been one of his only defenders, along with Fitzsimmons. Even when Grant had betrayed Providence, Phil had clung to his belief that his kid was just playing the game, keeping his cover by giving information that may or may not result in deaths. It was a far better idea than the alternative.

And Phil's belief had been vindicated.

Just Phil, Grant, Fitz, and Trip stepped into the elevator, and the second the doors closed, Grant sagged heavily into Phil, almost falling.

"Steady, steady!" Fitz exclaimed, then froze as his frantic tug on Grant's injured arm elicited a deep groan from him.

"Just– gimme a minute," Grant squeezed out.

"It's okay, Fitz," Phil said, hooking his fingers under Grant's belt to support him better.

It was... different sticking with an injured member of his team this far. Usually by now he'd stepped back, taking the team leader's long view, taking stock and planning what to do next, while other more qualified people did their jobs. Especially now that he was Director Coulson, and not just another agent. But this was Grant, this was his son. Grant trusted him like no one else. And Phil was more than grateful to have this time with Grant, after so long.

"I wanna sleep for a week," Grant whispered, somewhere around Phil's collar.

"That can be arranged." Trip looked both concerned and amused. "Are you sure you're up to this, man?"

Grant did not lift his head from Phil's shoulder, even as the elevator halted, and Phil barely caught his whisper: "I just want to get him off me."

Phil stiffened, and Grant straightened hastily, shaking his head. "No, no! That's not what I– I just–" He made a frustrated sound. "I smell like HYDRA," he said at last.

"You smell like shit," Trip said dryly.

"Exactly."

Phil had been blocking it out best he could, but in the narrow space of the elevator, it was impossible not to notice the reek of sweat and blood and something rotten that clung to Grant. Phil did not blame him at all for wanting that shower.

It took them another ten minutes to reach the men's showers; a long narrow space, with benches along one wall facing a row of shower heads, half enclosed, half not.

Fitz was sent for a chair, while Trip helped Phil remove the splint from Grant's leg and cut the bottom of his pant leg off so it could be put back on over bare skin.

"Are you sure you don't want me to-?" Trip held up a hand against Grant's glare. "Nah, it's okay, man. I'll leave you two to it." He glanced at Phil. "Want me and Fitz to stand guard outside?"

"One of you at least, if you wouldn't mind." He was about to ask if Trip could fetch something clean for Grant to wear, when Fitz came in, carrying the chair, and a handful of clothes.

"Agent May brought these." He held out the clothing: Grant's old Seahawks sweatshirt, a SHIELD-issue t-shirt and underwear, and a pair of flannels Phil didn't recognize. "Agent MacKenzie, er, gave the trousers."

Phil smiled, noting how Fitz's transitions from a word he couldn't remember to one he did were getting smoother. "Tell them both thanks."

"Clearing out now, sir." Trip patted Fitz's shoulder in a way that served to steer him back toward the door. "Holler if you need anything."

The clank of the door shutting echoed in the sparsely outfitted room, and then there was silence, except for a pipe gurgling, and the harsh sound of Grant's breathing.

Phil knelt beside him, involuntarily reaching to push back the shaggy hair from his forehead. They'd laid him flat on the floor for stability while they moved the splint around, but Phil couldn't help thinking he looked nearly dead, stretched out like that.

Grant opened his eyes, squinted up at him.

"You ready?" Phil asked softly.

"Think the granola bars are kicking in." Grant sighed, sat up carefully. "Let's get this over with."

They started with peeling off Grant's jacket, and two button-down shirts. "Haven't worn a t-shirt since Anchorage," he muttered, letting his left arm fall back into his lap.

Phil nodded silently. He remembered the shock of Grant's body hitting his, in time with the crack of Garrett's gun. That bullet had ended up in Grant's shoulder, rather than Phil's brain.

He frowned at Grant's torso, counting three puckered spots of skin, obvious gunshot scars. "Where'd you get those?"

Grant had already started to shiver slightly, and sat forward instead of back against the cold cinderblock wall. He took a moment to reply. "Garrett. On the Bus. Trying to get Fitzsimmons."

Phil was kneeling in front of him where he sat on the bench, so he could look up into Grant's face. There was a distance in Grant's gaze he understood, but didn't like. "Jemma was sure you were dead. She said you got shot at least six times. Fitz was heartbroken."

A spark in the dark brown eyes, a twitch of the lips. "He's a good kid. Leo the lion, bravest of them all."

"But Garrett kept you alive."

A nod, and Grant looked away.

Phil took a deep breath, quelling the anger and sadness that welled in him, and reached slowly to cup Grant's cheek, press his fingers to sweat-sticky too-warm skin.

"I'm glad you're alive."

A glance at him, before Grant's eyes welled up, and he covered them with one hand. Phil's heart cracked a little; four hours since rescue and this was the first time he’d seen tears from from Grant.

Grant slid his hand over on top of Phil's, now hiding his face behind both of them, but he gripped Phil's fingers painfully tight. He said nothing, but a few deep breaths later, he let go, sat straighter, rubbed his eyes.

"Okay, let's move."

They had to cut the waistbands of his jeans and underwear above the injured leg to get those off anywhere close to comfortably, and then Phil turned on the water, giving it time to warm. Grant would need that; Phil hated hearing the little teeth chatters and quick breaths behind him as he collected the company-issue soap and shampoo from a shelf, along with washcloths and a clean towel. Koenig deserved a raise for keeping this place so well-stocked, Phil thought.

At last he helped Grant gently to his feet, and half-carried him into the now-steaming shower, lowering him to sit in the chair Fitz had brought.

A little gasp escaped Grant as the warm water hit him, before he relaxed, tilted his head back to let it wash over his face. Phil moved back to the curtained entrance, awkward and uncertain now. He'd set the soap and things within Grant's reach, but it wouldn't be easy for him to wash himself in his current state. He decided to wait for Grant to ask before he tried to help any further.

He had a sudden sharp recollection of being a child in the bathroom doorway, watching his mother help his father bathe, near the end when the cancer had robbed him of his strength. It was the same mixture of embarrassment, helplessness, and love that filled Phil now.

Sweat beaded on his brow, and he became aware of his heavy jacket and boots, and the water splashing on the cement floor. He left the coat, socks, and boots on the bench, along with his watch, rolling up his sleeves as he walked back to the shower stall.

That was when Phil finally saw the bullet scar clearly, stark on Grant's flushed skin. A dent the size of a quarter in his left shoulder, red and purple lines radiating outward in a strange sort of shatter pattern.

In the narrow space, Grant's back was only an arm's length away, but Phil hesitated to touch him, afraid to startle him. He'd carried that wound for two months– How had he ever survived? How had he kept going? Kept spying and shooting and moving.

"Coulson," Grant was saying. "Dad!"

He blinked, shook his head, cleared his throat. "Yes?"

Grant had his head down, turned, but not quite looking back at him. His hand holding the shampoo bottle was trembling. "Can you-?"

"Of course."

Water droplets pattered against his arms, darkened his sleeves as he worked a lather into Grant's hair, careful and awkward at first, before settling down to the job. He could feel Grant relaxing under his hands, and bit back a smile.

"Feeling better?" he murmured, as soapy grey water slid down the drain.

Grant's only reply was a grunt.

"Just don't fall asleep," Phil warned. "You can do that when they knock you out in the med bay."

"Won't need to knock me out," Grant mumbled.

No, they probably wouldn't, Phil thought. At this rate, he'd be carrying Grant down to the med bay.

"Anything else I can do?" he asked aloud, dropping his right hand to Grant's shoulder.

Grant said nothing, just held up a washcloth, and Phil silently took it.

He eased back a step, as Grant leaned forward, and was thinking of how gentle he'd have to be when he paused, staring at Grant's back.

The bullet hole wasn't the only scar there. There were other, older lines, cuts, burns that almost looked like finger prints, and... was that-?

"Grant. What is this?" He could barely hear his own whisper over the running water.

"What-?" Grant started, before he froze under Phil's touch.

Phil's stomach churned as he traced the raised flesh, the hollow-eyed skull and the eight curling tentacles. Bile rose in his throat, hot and scalding, but he swallowed it back. "Who did this to you?" He hated how his voice broke, how tears burned behind his eyes.

"Sorry, Garrett's already dead."

With a curse, Phil turned away, slammed a fist into the metal wall, but Grant's flinch yanked him back from the anger better than the pain in his knuckles did.

A deep breath, before he found a word. "Why?"

Grant seemed to shrink under his gaze, curling under the weight of that awful brand. But his words came as steadily as they would in any debriefing. "He said I was his. After I– I tried to escape. They tortured me, but he wouldn't let me die. And then he had me branded. To make sure everyone knew which master to send the mutt back to.

"Did you know?" He sat straighter, as if the bitter words gave him strength, glanced over his shoulder up at Phil. "Did he tell you he came to recruit me? In juvie? He got to the detention centre ten minutes after we left. He wanted me for HYDRA. But you beat him to it." A rusty laugh. "The way he harped on that, you would have thought you'd done it on purpose." He sighed, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "After- after I broke, after I shot Firenze... he said he won. He said he got me in the end."

The warmth on Phil's cheeks was not water; it stung in his eyes, burned in his throat. Words, where were they? What was he supposed to say?

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We should have searched harder, we should have found you, I should have saved you. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came.

Blinking away tears, he looked down to where his hands rested on Grant's shoulders, water pattering over his fingers and dripping steadily down from his wrists... washing over those scars. On the right, the brand of HYDRA. On the left, the shattered mark earned from saving Coulson. He wished suddenly that the brand could have been on the left, could have been punched through by that bullet. Because which one had been Grant's choice?

"He didn't."

It came out in a croak, and Phil cleared his throat.

"He didn't get you in the end. You were willing to die to save me. The whole time he thought he had you, you were waiting to turn it back on him. He might have had your hands tied, but he didn't have you."

Grant sat quite still in front of him, head bowed, and suddenly Phil needed to see his face, to make sure Grant understood the truth. He ignored how water soaked his shirt as he stepped around to turn the shower off, and in the ringing hush, sank into a crouch in front of Grant.

Naked, dripping, hungry, exhausted, scarred, and in pain—this was Grant Ward at his most vulnerable. Phil only hoped he could get it right, could say and be whatever it was Grant needed most right now.

"Grant," he murmured.

A sniff, a shaky exhale, a hand rubbed across his face, but Grant did not look up.

Phil shifted to one knee, reaching up to cup the back of Grant's neck, rest their heads together. "You did what you had to do to survive."

Grant shook his head, drew back. When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed and wet. "You taught me a long time ago there was more to life than survival."

"I trust your judgement on the cost. You're a good man, Grant. Making the hard choices doesn't change that."

Tears brimmed over, and he turned his face away again.

"You stayed alive," Phil whispered. "And I'm grateful."

A shudder under Phil's hand, and then a sob broke out, Grant shaking his head hard. "But I didn't! I didn't try to survive! He wouldn't let me die."

How could his heart hurt anymore? Phil wondered. Not that he could really pretend surprise. Torture could push people in all kinds of directions. But he needed to keep Grant talking, dig out whatever was festering in his heart.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

"This scar," Grant gulped, lifted a shaking hand to the pink line running down from in front of his right ear to under his jaw. "That wasn't Garrett. That was me."

And now he was sobbing, slumping forward against Phil's chest. As gently as he could, Phil wrapped an arm over Grant's back, their positions making it awkward to offer more physical comfort.

He wished he had a towel to wrap around Grant's shoulders, knowing the chill would get to him sooner or later. Cool water was dripping down inside his collar, and the hard floor was hurting his knee, but Grant had a fistful of his shirt, and Phil would not have pulled away for the world. He pressed his cheek against wet hair, and closed his eyes.

"What happened, Grant? Talk to me. This is our debriefing. Just us. Talk to me."

"He told me they were dead," Grant choked out. "Fitzsimmons. But he kept me alive. Tortured me. No food. No water. Alone. In the dark. For weeks." A last sob shuddered through him, and he subsided to ragged breathing. He was collecting himself, trying to explain coherently. "Garrett wanted to break me. I tried to escape, but–" a deep shaky inhale "–they caught me. Beat me. When I woke up... he branded me. And I..." His voice caught, and he shook his head, shivered.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry."

That tearful whisper tore at Phil's heart, and a couple warm drops slipped down his own cheeks.

"For what?" Even though he knew the answer.

"I was supposed to die bravely. But I couldn't. I wanted it to end! I just wanted... it to stop, so I tried. I stole a knife, went for the carotid. When I woke up... Garrett said I wouldn't get away that easy.

"I gave in, Dad." Another round of sobs threatened, but he fought them back. "I wasn't trying to be a double agent, I just... wanted to eat every day. I wanted to wake up and not hurt. I don't even remember the Treehouse. Because he was right. I was no better than a dog."

"Grant Douglas Ward." His voice came out too loud, and he tried to soften it with a hand on Grant's cheek. "Look at me." He stared into bloodshot brown eyes, gripped Grant's face gently. "Sometimes heroes have to start by saving their own lives. And yours is worth it." A thumb stroked deliberately down the knife's old path. "So thank you. Thank you for surviving. I'm proud of you, son."

More tears, but quieter now, both of them worn and chilled.

Phil leaned in to press a warm kiss to Grant's forehead. "Come on," he murmured. "We better finish up and get you in some dry clothes."

"Okay."

As he stood though, Grant caught his hand, squeezed it. "I love you, Dad." His tiny tired smile was like the sun breaking through clouds.

It took a moment before Phil could answer.

"I love you, son."

He tried to move quickly, cleaning Grant's back, and helping him wash around the splint. The little gasps from Grant at any movement of his leg, told him the anesthetic had run his course, and his kid belonged in the med bay ten minutes ago.

But at the same time there seemed to be something lighter in Grant's eyes, in his air, and Phil was certain their conversation had been a good thing. What was that saying? The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable? Well, they'd gotten some of the misery out of the way.

Getting Grant dry and dressed was an arduous process, but at last he sat on the bench, clad in the borrowed flannels and Phil's jacket, preferable because of its zipper. Phil discarded his soaked button down, and took the t-shirt and sweater. May had forgotten socks, so he gave Grant his own, kneeling in front of him to gently ease on one and then the other, at least as far as it could go on the wounded leg.

As Phil hastily laced his boots, he glanced sideways at Grant's pale face, and closed eyes, the way he slumped back against the wall, still shivering.

"I'm carrying you." Not a question, a decision.

"You always carry me."

The words were barely audible, and he wondered if Grant had meant to say that aloud. But he clearly meant for Phil to hear him as he was set gently on the elevator floor, Fitz and Trip fussing around his leg. As Phil made to stand, Grant caught his sleeve, spoke soft but steady. "I'm glad I'm alive too."

Phil could only nod and smile.

Grant was asleep on his shoulder by the time the elevator stopped.

[geddy-leesbian]

in the past few days I've written two very different scenarios in which Leon loses consciousness due to being a moron and wakes up to Luis healing him not sure what this says about who I am as a person

[jackhues]

the group chat? - mockingbird! au (platonic! hughes)

requested by: anon :))

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting &lt;3

likes are good, reblogs are better &lt;3

mockingbird! au request rules! || mockingbird au! masterlist

gif not mine

"oh, i love this song!" your friend, em, shouted over the music.

downing her drink, she grabbed another friend of yours, raya, and pulled her to the dance floor. you and talia, another friend of yours, laughed as you watched the two stumble to the dance floor.

it was girls' night, the first one ever since you all graduated. it'd been a tough few months, all of you busy with new jobs and trying to navigate this new life. but it was worth it. because of nights like these.

"five dollars em comes here to throw her shoes off," talia nudged you, nursing her drink.

you took a sip of your own drink, laughing. "oh, you're on! she's gonna either throw them in the garbage, or at some man."

talia laughed loudly, spilling some of her drink. that made the two of you laugh some more.

"come on," talia said, finishing off her drink. "let's join those idiots."

you downed your drink, "let's go!"

the two of you stumbled across the dance floor, laughing to yourselves as you danced your way to your friends.

em was currently drunk as hell, and her shoes were missing.

"told you!" you elbowed talia, laughing at the face she made.

in your tipsy state, everything was hilarious to you. from the way em danced without shoes, to the way raya danced with talia, to the way the world felt fuzzy around the edges.

the only thing that wasn't funny was the guy staring at you.

he stood near the bar, sleeves rolled up and his bald head reflecting the lights of the bar. he nursed a drink in hand, but kept his eyes trained on you.

you made a face at him, moving out of his line of vision. he craned his neck, before switching seats to keep watching you. you furrowed your brows.

by now, he knew that you knew that he was watching him. but he still made no effort to try and hide what he was doing.

with a start, you realized that you'd seen him at a few other bars and restaurants before. and he was always staring at you.

"yeah, i'm not doing this tonight," you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone.

you pulled out your last chat, jack, and texted him.

'theres sume werd guy straring atme ie sen him at otger plasces and hes crepy come pick mup plx?'

your phone buzzed with a positive response, followed by many more notifications. you ignored them all, just ready to go home and fall asleep in jack's arms.

"creepo behind me," you whispered to em. "i'm heading home. don't wanna die before seeing quinn play the boys tomorrow."

"jack's picking you up?" she asked.

you nodded.

em yawned, reaching out to grab raya and talia (who were still dancing together). "come on. we'll go wait for him. i think i'm gonna head home too."

"thanks."

em linked her arms through yours, the four of you making your way outside to wait for jack. behind you, the creepy guy was beginning to make his way to his feet.

"oh, we're going to die," you muttered. "he's coming."

"no we won't," raya assured you. she tapped one of the bouncers, "hi. there's that guy inside being a creep, and messing with my friends," she pointed at the person in the bar. "we're heading home because he's making us uncomfortable. if you don't mind, could you keep an eye on him so he doesn't follow us?"

the bouncer nodded, "don't worry. that's my job."

raya grinned as she turned back to the rest of them. "see? all handled. besides, jack's only a few minutes away from here."

"i just texted my brother," talia said. "he'll come pick the rest of us up."

you took a deep breath, feeling the tears building up. maybe it was your tipsy state, but you were feeling more emotional than usual. "i'm so sorry guys. this was supposed to be a fun girls' night and i ruined it."

"not you, it was that creepo dingbat," em assured you. "besides, it was fun. we had lots of fun. and none of us can handle hangovers, so it's best we didn't stay out any longer."

the four of you laughed quietly, remembering your university days. none of you were good at handling alcohol or hangovers.

you looked up as a familiar car pulled up, followed immediately by jack running out the back door and pulling you into his arms.

"you're okay? were you followed? did he hurt you?"

"you're shaking," you whispered, hugging him back.

jack took a deep breath to calm himself, still holding you close. "i was freaking terrified. i couldn't even drive because i was losing it."

"you made luke drive?" you asked, pulling away a little. you held his face in your hands, knowing the touch was the only thing keeping jack calm.

"are you alright?" luke asked, coming out of the passenger seat as the car parked. "that guy didn't come after you, right?"

"no, we left," you answered, giving luke a hug as well. "the bouncer's keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn't follow us."

"that was smart of you guys, telling the bouncer," quinn added, stepping out of the driver's side.

you stared for a moment, before remembering quinn was in town for the game.

"raya's idea," you motioned towards your friend.

she sent a two fingered salute, before hugging you and following em and talia into talia's brother's car.

"alright, let's head home now," quinn said, pulling out one of jack's hoodies from the car and passing it to you. "it's best not to stay here any longer than we have to."

you thanked him, following jack into the car. the ride home was silent, but peaceful. all of you were shaken up a bit, but you were okay. that was the big thing.

making your way into jack's apartment, quinn locked the door behind you guys while luke brought a glass of water over to you.

"thanks kid," you smiled, finishing off the glass. you looked at quinn and jack as well, "thank you. all three of you."

"you don't have to thank us," quinn reminded you. "you texted the group chat, and all three of us came over immediately. we're family, y/n. we're gonna come for you no matter what."

you smiled at the three boys around you. you loved them so much, and times like this was when you realized they loved you too. you were family.

"i texted the group chat?" you repeated. "i thought i texted jack."

quinn laughed, "it was the group chat. and good thing, because jack was freaking out and didn't know what to do."

the three of you laughed a bit, grateful that the stress was gone.

now that the night was over, and you were finally home, the high of the alcohol was fading. your head was starting to hurt, and so were your feet. jack helped you change into some pajamas and wipe your makeup off.

the two of you headed back to the living room, where luke and quinn were fighting over what to watch on netflix.

"finding nemo," luke said.

"no, we're watching moana," quinn argued.

"you're both wrong. we're watching despicable me," you told them, lying down on the couch.

jack flopped down next to you, "oh, i like that movie!"

quinn and luke got excited as well, searching for the movie and pressing play. you cuddled into jack as luke and quinn camped out on the floor.

one by one, the boys fell asleep, the movie playing softly on the t.v. you smiled to yourself as you lay in jack's arms. this was what your childhood should've looked liked. a loving family, ready to do anything for you.

even though you didn't have it then, you were happy to have found it now.

---

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[ask-missparker]

—Mockingbird -> Looking Too Closely

- In the universes where she never got her powers and needed to do something to make herself stronger, she didn’t just become The Tempest…but underwent her mentorship of aunt Bobbi Morse—Mockingbird…

-> Amelia ‘Mia’ Morse (Parker)

~~

Instead of facing up to the bad she seen—the betrayal, heartbreak and humiliation—she ran away from them and drowned herself in other water. Drinking, driving and other activities to avoid the storm she was experiencing.

~~~

She reached a point where she realized the booze and heat wasn’t enough. She wanted to do better and fight back, hurting the criminals in the city and fire growing to guard the flames, protecting people from harmful circumstances.

~~~~

And when Bobbi decided to step back for a while, she decided to take the plunge and start a new path.

She did not just being The Tempest.

Becoming a half-time student and working as Mockingbird now.

~~~

“You have a light inside of you, similar to your aunt and a ranging nature that I always had..but at the end of the day, just be yourself.” Arron replied holding her in place.

~~~~~

“If you’re gonna stand there and tell me that I’m not strong enough or tough enough, then please don’t.” Mia added pausing in front of the punching bag.

~~~~~~~

“I was swinging around in the back and saw the spirt you have, this kindness—you use against your foes.” She said looking at Luna as she sat on the couch drinking a cold beer.

~~~~~~~~

Dressed in a skin tight suit and mask if needed on the field. However, black jeans, boots and a gray tight shirt while wearing her classic rings. That’s her go-to outfit of choice. Of course, her earrings and necklaces are a must.

~~~~

This toughness, kindness and compassion behind the facade she built upon her journey. A fierce sweetness and determination towards her loved ones no matters what the outcome.

~~~

“It doesn’t matter how many time you fall on the mat, it matters whether you get up.” Mia replies to Liane with an encouraging gentle smile.

~~~~~

“Sometimes you have to learn to control that anger and suspicion towards a certain point…instead surrender to letting others helping you or them taking the lead…weather you like it or not.” She says to Rick during a group conversation.

~~~

“Look, baby, you convinced yourself that everything you been through took away your humanity.” Mia said looking at Nikolai softly, “But I think because of humanity you made it through.”

Nikolai shook his head gently, “Love, not right now…I already feel bad about myself…”

“You wouldn’t have survived, much less come out the other end a good man, somebody who wants to do good…if you didn’t have a light inside of you.” She replied continuing her words kindly.

He paused hearing that as his expression softened. His light.

~~~~~

Research, weaponry and acrobatics. The basics, as she argues in using her smarts and voice before ever using her fists.

~~~~

When it comes down to it, her family and friends always come first. No matter the cost, she will try and make do with what she’s got to offer a better deal. As long as they’re okay at the end of the day, she’s fine.

~~~~~~~

She’s not afraid to admit when someone is better at something than her and more than willing to allow them to take the lead.

~~~~~

“I’m a hot mess..” She said looking at herself in the mirror.

~~~

Mia will make mistakes, misjudgments, misfires and other things along the way. So you can scream, yell at her and or fight the girl all you want—she will take it with a grain of salt.

Even manipulated into thinking she is making the right decision here.

But do note that she is kicking herself for it, even if it wasn’t her fault.

~~~

At the end of the day she will always be there.

~~

~~~

~~~~

Let me know what you think! Maybe our universe that she doesn’t have her powers or maybe she does? Your choice! 🫵

- @gcthvile @meiramel l l @aidanxsophxoxo @blueboirick @wizzzardofoz z z @finlayholmes @ethan-lensherr @elzabeth-stark k @marvelsfavoriteuncle @sci-fi-lexcon @ask-starrk @therealdaydreamstark @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @the-x-ladiesofnyc @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre

[disastrousduckss]

Posting this right now because everyone is asleep and these guys are just goobers

(at this point the fcking Mockingbird AU is just a Branch harem💀💀💀)

[cryptidclaw]

So what was the relationship that Blinding Moon had with her kits? What about one another? Did the other siblings care that Mocking Bird was sent into the Dark Forest or?

I think it’d be an interesting look tbh to see the differing actions or similar actions the siblings have compared to their reincarnated versions

Ok! So Mockingbird and the 3 ideas/ answers to these questions:

This is so long im putting it under the cut

I defo want the 4 of them to get separated between the orders as well. This is part of Blinding Moon's plans for gaining power, backed by the Stars she is able to spread her bloodline to all 4 other Orders giving her a stronger hold on them. She is also able to use her kits as extensions of her, having them meddle with their Orders for her gain.

I think Blinding received some kind of prophecy to motivate her to do this, but she embellished it and twisted it for her gain.

...

I'm tempted to have it so Mockingbird was from a litter separate from the 3. This would explain some of her separation from them and would give her a more isolated childhood.

I think that Blinding specifically had Mockingbird to fulfill her prophecy, she needed another kit to complete her plans... maybe she has her when the 3 are apprentices (were they called that back then??)

...

Blinding has her plans for her kits pretty much from their birth (especially for Mockingbird). She has an extremely manipulative relationship with them, and purposefully insured that they depend on/are desperate for her approval and attention. They are also made to believe that their mother is basically God (practice for the Stars ig) so they follow her plans.

Each of the 3 play a role that aline with their powers...

Jay's Wing became a healer like his mother due to others believing that he was the one who most inherented his mother's abilities, and also because of his blindness (they weren't woke in the olden cats times). Jay is manipulated to aid his mother in guiding the orders spiritually, even if they must twist the Star's words. Because of this his reincarnation's power has more to to with spirituality and the mind.

Falcon's Strike (or whatever i name him) becomes Blinding's power through brute force. She uses his strength and anger issues to her advantage, having him be the one to do any dirty work, and using him to scare others into submission. It is because of this that Falcon's power is to do with endless power and energy in battle... along with a boiling anger.

Dove's Song was Blinding Moon's ears and eyes in the Orders, she stayed unassuming, quiet and in the shadows. Most over looked her and because of this she was able to collect intel that no one else could get. Basically she was Blinding's spy.... because of this her power is enhanced senses, hearing, sight, even taste.

Mockingbird was the forth child who could not live up to the expectations that her mother had for her... she was constantly desperate for her mother's approval and attention like she gave to her older siblings. She also deeply loved and looked up to her siblings and was devastated when she and them were separated. She never fully found her use to her mother and she was always the most separated from her kin as the youngest. She has no power in her reincarnation.

...

I am unsure how I want Mockingbird to die and end up in the Dark Forest.... I think my best idea so far is that over time Mockingbird grows resentful of her mother, and begins to realize her manipulations. Maybe she starts to question her mother's plans, maybe she learns of a new part to her mother's plans which would put her siblings in extreme danger.

Mockingbird could have tried to stop this event and stop her mother. She ends up killing Blinding Moon and getting herself killed as well.

Maybe she causes Blinding to fall over a cliff and she falls too...

Blinding Moon becomes a super powerful spirit and in her rage she banishes Mockingbird to the Dark Forest.

I feel like Mockingbird is left to think about her regrets and hatred for generations after this... she has a complicated relationship with her mother, she still has that remaining love and admiration for her, but she is also extremely hurt and hateful towards her...

When she is reincarnated, Hollyleaf grows up with this desperation to serve her order the best she can, and also an extreme attachment to the code as her subconscious' way of trying to correct their mistakes and not go down the same path...

...

Oh also,

All 4 reincarnations' arcs are ment to surround them breaking free from their past life's mistakes/ the roles they had to play in their past lives. Jay gets to be a warrior, Falcon rejects being a warrior and becomes a healer, Dove is not someone spoken over and ignored, she speaks up for herself and makes her own decisions to better HER life. Hollyleaf is able to become the leader of her Order, she is able to make her own path, she is her own prophecy.

[dragynkeep]

Sansa and Petyr playing the game up North and slowly retaking it out from under the Bolton's an Sansa embracing a darker side of herself under Petys's tutelage would have been hype if the writers weren't both incompetent and cowards. Sansa teaming with and learning from the same man who had a large hand in causing the downfall of her family but having nobody else to turn too all by his design.

[accuratetokillamockingbirdquotes]

[Finch Family groupchat]

Scout: HDOSHWIWB

Atticus: What is that?

Scout: a keyboard smash

Atticus: And how do I do that?

Jem: Just press any button lol

Atticus: 7