#my guy has died so many times he's officially run out of memories to forget | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pippytmi · 3 years ago

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Supercorp + Hogwarts AU + meet messy + "is that the best you can do?"

“Hey, do you guys want to see a muggle magic trick?”

Kara doesn’t have to look up to know Alex and Kelly are exchanging glances over Nia’s head. Nia is the best witch in the fifth year hands-down, but her grasp of muggle illusions leave a lot to be desired.

“Sure…” Kelly agrees, politely but unsurely, while Alex shakes her head.

“If this is that stupid coin trick again, Nia—” she starts, but Nia is already squeezing between them on the grass, unfolding a pack of muggle playing cards.

“It is not,” Nia says. “Prepare to be amazed! Yvette says I’m really good at this one.”

“Oh, joy,” Alex mutters under her breath, which turns into a pained yelp when Kelly elbows her in the ribs.

Kara finally raises her gaze from the newspaper she’s been half-reading, fully prepared to commit to Nia’s trick, but then she catches a glimpse of dark hair and a brisk pace. It’s Lena Luthor, notorious loner, actually sitting outside by the black lake with her books.

It’s odd—Lena never sits outside. People talk; Lena doesn’t have many friends (someone even started a rumor that Lillian Luthor pays Jess, another sixth year, to hang out with Lena). In fact, the only time anyone really sees Lena is in class, or in the Slytherin common room when Jess is also there. Kara sees her even less (only when Slytherin and Gryffindor share classrooms), but that doesn’t make the hopeless crush she’s fostered on her since they were eleven any less potent.

Kelly starts clapping suddenly, reluctantly dragging Kara’s eyes from Lena (who is reading a book; Kara is wondering just what kind of book it is). “Aw, Nia, that was good!” she says. “Do it again!”

Even Alex is curiously lifting up the cards one by one, as if trying to determine the trick herself. “Did you use actual magic for this?” she asks.

“I’m just that good,” Nia brags, though the way she tries to expertly shuffle the cards right back into their box suggests otherwise; half of them spill onto the grass. “Oh man!”

“I’ve got this,” Kara says, absentmindedly reaching for her wand. “Accio—”

“Kara, no!”

Oh, that’s right, Kara thinks belatedly. My wand is broken. It had been an unfortunate event on the Quidditch pitch involving an overzealous Hufflepuff seeker (Winn is still very apologetic about it, but it can’t be helped now). Unfortunately, Kara never seems to quite remember that magic is off-limits until it can be fixed.

And even more unfortunate is the fact that her mind and her words have begun to converge; she’s thinking about the book Lena is reading while glancing at the cards, and her mouth is forming silent words, and really it’s not a surprise at all when said book rockets out of Lena’s hands and aims right for Nia’s head.

No one dies, though, nor do they have to make the unpleasant trudge to the infirmary—Kelly is far quicker than any of Kara’s botched magic, and the book explodes into nothing when she mutters a firm, “Evanesco.”

“Kelly!” Kara forgets, for a second, about the whole Nia-about-to-break-her-face thing; her heart drops to the pit of her stomach at the thought that something of Lena Luthor’s has been reduced to figurative dust. What if that book was personal? What if it was special? What if it was—

“Excuse me,” says a quiet, sudden voice, and Kara just about falls over in the grass at the sight of Lena Luthor standing there. “I think you summoned my book.”

Kelly winces. “Oh, actually—”

“I destroyed it,” Kara blurts out, because really, this is her fault and Nia still has a face so the least Kara can do is take a fall for a friend. “I’m sorry. My wand is broken, and I was trying to summon some cards, but I was looking at you and thinking about your book and it just…I’m sorry. Again. I can pay for it?” She immediately begins digging into the pockets of her robes, but all she manages to scrounge up is a broken sugar quill and a drawing on a torn sheet of paper that depicts Professor Grant as a dragon.

For a moment, all Lena does is stare down at Kara in a peculiarly quizzical way. She doesn’t seem mad or anything, just perplexed. A second later she says, “You were thinking about ‘Voyages with Vampires’ strongly enough to summon it? I don’t really enjoy Gilderoy Lockhart books myself.”

“To be fair,” Kara’s quick to defend herself, “I couldn’t read the title from this far.”

“Right. You decided you wanted to snatch my book from me because it was mine.” And just like that, the curious expression on Lena’s face drops entirely, twists into something resigned and exhausted. “Is that the best you can do? Petty little child games?”

“What? No, I would never—”

“Because last week Eve Tessmacher hit me with a furnunculus curse that was far more clever than this,” Lena all but sneers. “It’s always the pig-headed Gryffindors that aim out of their league.”

“You wanna say that again?” Alex is jumping up, her wand brandished out, and Lena glances from her to Kara to Kelly to Nia, as if just realizing how potentially outnumbered she could be.

Except, well, that’s so not the issue. Kara hastens to stand between Alex’s wand and Lena’s body, nearly knocking her sister over in the process. “No! No, I didn’t do that as a prank, I—” She pauses, feels her cheeks go hot, and then rushes out, “Ijustthinkyou’rereallypretty!”

Alex lowers her wand; Kara can tell, because Alex uses it to jab her in the ribs. “Oh, bloody hell,” Alex grumbles, and she nudges Kelly to join her. “I think that’s our cue. I’d rather study for Potions than watch this.”

Kelly obligingly drags Nia along, who looks like she wants to protest, but eventually Nia caves in—though not without trying to wink conspiringly at Kara, which doesn’t work because Nia “winks” with both eyes.

“But—” Kara watches as her friends scatter, and then she is left with the heavy, accusatory gaze of Lena Luthor. She tries to smile, but imagines her attempt is more of a wince than anything. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

Lena takes a step forward. She raises her chin in the air, no less guarded, but her eyes convey a tiny bit of that earlier curiosity all the same. “You’ve already had your fun, Kara Danvers,” she says. “But I will give you credit, no one has played the ‘I have a crush on you’ prank yet.”

Kara frowns. “Do people really play pranks on you so much?”

“I am the weird little sister of a boy who tried to blow up Hogwarts,” Lena all but deadpans. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re way more than Lex Luthor’s sister, and that’s just...really mean,” Kara says, words bursting out before she even pauses to rein them in. “I mean, you are so smart! Last year you saved a bunch of first years who wandered into the Forbidden Forest. A-and you never tried out for Quidditch, but sometimes you fly with Jess on the pitch and you’re so fast you could easily run circles around anyone on the Slytherin team. You’re the coolest person ever. Even when you were eleven, you—” Finally, her brain starts to catch up with her mouth, and Kara flushes hotter than she ever thought possible. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for that to sound…stalker-y. I only know about the first year thing because Professor Grant’s son was new that year and I was supposed to be babysitting him. And then the flying, well, sometimes I go to the pitch with Winn whenever he wants to practice—”

“Kara. You can breathe any time you want,” Lena prompts, and Kara pauses to do exactly that.

“Sorry,” Kara adds, again, after she’s let her lungs rest a bit. Her whole body feels shivery from head to toe, like she is seconds away from fainting, and honestly? She just might. “Anyway. Um. I can replace that book if you want. Or I can give you the money and you can pick out a better one, since you said you weren’t a fan? Whatever you want.”

Lena is quiet for a beat. “What were you going to say before? About when I was eleven?”

Kara bites her lip so hard she knows she will inevitably have to ask Kelly to heal it later. “Oh, that,” she says evasively. “I meant, when you were eleven, and I walked face-first into the wrong wall trying to get to platform nine and three quarters, and you didn’t even laugh at me. You just...helped me up, and promised you would walk with me to the train until I found my family again.”

“I remember,” Lena says, and her voice is softening, as is her expression. “You somehow got lost between platforms seven and eight. Your sister was furious when she caught up with us.”

“Yeah.” And Kara finds herself smiling at that memory; this time it’s a real smile, and she couldn’t stop it if she tried. “That was really nice.” She wants to mention more—how even when Lillian Luthor scowled at Kara’s hand-me-downs, Lena complimented her right away on the shirt that had once been Alex’s—but all Kara does right now is step back. “I’ve bothered you enough, I think. Will you…let me know? About the book?”

“I don’t care about the book,” Lena says, and she swallows, loud enough that Kara can hear it. “Do you mean it?”

“That you’re...nice?”

“Yes.” Lena’s cheeks are a faint pink color, and Kara’s entire mouth goes dry.

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, and in that moment—with Lena blushing, and Kara’s chest tightening—they both know that she’s confessing to so much more than thinking Lena is nice. “So. Um.” She squares her shoulders, and prepares to be brave enough to live up to the Gryffindor name: “Can I buy you something that’s not a book? Sometime? Maybe on our next trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Like a date?” Lena asks, so impossibly soft, and Kara nods.

“Exactly like a date,” Kara says, and honestly, she should demand ten points to Gryffindor herself because her voice does not waver once.

And Lena Luthor smiles, just cautious enough to show how unsure she is, but still warm enough that Kara’s heart skips a beat. “Okay,” she says. “But on one condition: I’ll handle any magic until then.”

“Deal,” Kara agrees, and it’s official; breaking her wand might have been the best thing that has ever happened to her, ever.

#took some liberties w/the meet messy hope thats ok!!!#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i went as vague as possible w/the hp setting :///#hope its not too glaringly obvious how little i know about hp #now to tackle the other 5 hp aus in my inbox....yall want to see me suffer so bad #(jk i love all the prompts in my inbox ur all too sweet)#🥺❤️

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the-edge-of-great · 4 years ago

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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ friendsgiving ♥

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The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening. Her heart sinks. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, especially their bandmates.

So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far is too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.

That’s why this question tumbled out so casually.

And that’s why the silence is scaring her.

Luke, finally, saves her. “We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.

“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.

Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.

As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.

“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.

Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.

“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.

“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”

“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, all the time.”

“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”

“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”

“And… Alex?”

He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.

“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”

Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she knows what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex��sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.

“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”

Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing less than the bare minimum of being parents.”

“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”

“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”

Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.

“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”

~**~**~**~

Star Wars and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.

“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”

“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”

“I know we think they’re cute, but will they think they’re cute?”

“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about anything.”

“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.

“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—

“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.

“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.

“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”

“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting hella sus.”

“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”

“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.

“Julie!”

“What?!”

Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”

Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”

Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few inches. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.

Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”

“Alex, honey, I planned it.”

Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.

“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.

Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they totally figured something was going on. She giggles.

“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past. “Ta-da.”

Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.

The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).

After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”

“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you can choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.

“I have all of the Star Wars movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.

“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.

“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”

“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.

Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”

“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.

“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.

Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, she’s my Chosen One. You two go away.”

“We were here first,” Luke whines.

“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.

Luke nods. “Good point.”

“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.

“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.

“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”

Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”

Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”

“I improvised.”

“I like it.”

Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”

Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”

“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.

Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do both!”

Julie laughs out loud.

After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows (“Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they’re ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.

“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s green. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”

They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”

“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.

Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Bring it.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #some band fluff on this fine morning #this started out with a lot of angst potential but then i was like #no #i have a cuter idea #eog writes

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sweetstrawberry-jam · 3 years ago

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Minus Hex Hc

OK SO If any of ya’ll don’t know this is official art of Minus Hex and lemme tell ya me and my friends went off on ideas for him, theres no info about Minus Hex so anything i talk about here is pure Hc i have came up with overall. So lets begin So We always thought this Hex looked rather gentle and soft compared to normal Hex who seems more energetic, so we came up with the idea “what if he was a sort of helper/ Therapy robot “ and we went from there. -Story/idea i wrote- Hex was created by a high tech company, he was commissioned by the family of an old rich man, he was wasn’t well and the family had no time to take care of him, so they asked the company to create a caretaker type/ Therapy robot and so the manufacturer made Hex. In fact Hex was the first Model, and he was the first to actually run on solar and to be programed to do such a serious task, he was pretty much a prototype, the company wanted to see if this could be successful for future use, so they used the Old man as a sort of guinea pig coming by to get reports on how well Hex was doing. Overall the beginning of Hex’s life was rather simple, he wasn’t anything like he is now, he was only programed to help the man, he wasn’t given a personality he wasn’t supposed to have one, he wasn’t even supposed to gain a full thought process outside of, ‘take care of old man’. The company would note how successful the project was as Hex was doing as told, and was taking care of the man and the house, though the man himself wished the robot would do more then just say ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ The company didn’t really care about that, after seeing how well Hex was doing they began to plan to mass produce robots like him, and once the man died they would make Hex obsolete and scrapped him using his parts for other better robots. But something happen that really none expected, overtime as Hex spent more time with the lonely man he started to gain more and more of a conscious he was taking out to see the world, and saw how others interacted something clicked in his system, it all started because he started to play basketball while the man was resting, though the man caught him one day, but instead of being upset, He was happy to see this, encouraging Hex to keep trying new things the two grew a strong bond after that they would spend hours talking and the old man would show Hex how to bake and even how to sing, for once the man truly felt like he wasn’t alone. Hex would still do his job taking care of the man, and taking care of the home but he developed a complete personality and he even had his own opinions and thoughts. When the manufacturers came by and saw this they were in shock to say the least, they couldn’t understand how this happen, they saw it as some kind of malfunction and now they were worried their new care taker robots they wanted to sell would end up the same way, and that meant they couldn’t control them. The company offered to take Hex and program him back to his original state, or even just scraped him (mainly so they can take him apart and figure out why this all happened), but the old man refused saying “This robot is more of a friend to me then any Human i met..i won’t let you take my friend” Now the company can’t do anything until the rich man dies and they would have ownership of Hex again. So for the rest of the old mans life, Hex stayed by his side chatting taking care and just..listening Hex was happy and felt like he was fulfilling his purpose, even though he manage to reprogram his system and basically gain a soul in a sense, he could never get rid of his main function..Taking care and helping, Hex was always prepared to do whatever needed to be done..but no matter what, nothing prepared him for death, The robot could never forget the last interaction with his old friend before he passed on All in a flash before Hex knew it he was gone, and he gain a new emotion..sadness, now that the man has passed on the Company was ready to get Hex and scrap him for good, but there was a problem, the old man rewrote his will he gave everything to Hex when and made sure legally the company can't do anything to Hex.

So Hex was free, he didn’t have to worry about the company scraping him, though the problem was... Hex was lonely he was stuck in a large house on his own none to sing with none to talk to, for awhile it was hard, but Hex started going out more, even started playing Basketball with the local children, and then met Minus Gf and Bf, and after that Hex found Whitty, and then Carol And Finally Hex felt like he was truly fulfilling his purpose, by helping and taking care of those he can and not to mention gaining more friendships then he never thought he would He truly feels happy and will do whatever he can to help others. (I don’t write a lot so forgive me if this isn’t great) -Extra Hc- - Hex learned other emotions over time such as happy, sad ect but due to his programing he can’t go over the top with his emotions, he has a rather calm versions of these emotions,when he’s excited it is very hard to tell as it looks about the same comparing it to his normal happy face.- Hex can’t raise his voice very loud, as he is meant to be a comfort caretaker, so his voice needed to be gentle and calm in order to not panic the one he takes care of, he was never given a loud voice box.

- None really knows how Hex manage to gain a personality, when he first started out he pretty much had no emotions and would just do as told, but as he did errands for the old rich man, he started to see the world and see how people acted, and something in him changed and he began to research more about life in his own little ways . - If Hex goes through a full reboot and doesn’t have his memory bank loaded in yet, he will be resorted to his original state before he gained his personality, he will remain like this until his Memory Bank gets restored in his reboot. - Given he is pretty much the first robot of his kind Hex is not perfect, he still has some flaws he is not built to fight so you could beat him pretty easily (and maybe break him a bit) he can also get hacked into pretty easily when his guard is down (Though his guard is not that strong to begin with) and if a virus gets in he can reboot to get it out, but his battery gets drained quite a bit and he will have to recharge after words. The robot is also not waterproof - Hex loves charities he learned a lot about them thanks to the old rich man, as the two grew a bond the man began to take Hex to many charity events, he wanted to show the robot how important it was to do your part when you could, and the old man didn’t feel like he was wasting money on this, in fact it was a privilege to him to be apart of this and do all he can for others. That spoke to Hex a lot and after the man passed Hex continued on what the old rich man did and goes to many charity events and donates he knows that's what his friend would’ve wanted .- In the beginning the relationship between the old rich guy and Hex was a bit rough, Hex didn’t have a personality and the old rich man was a bit cold to him, given he felt his family just left him with something that he can’t talk to or even relate to, but slowly as Hex gain his personality the Man began to notice, even catching him playing basketball after gaining more a interested in it, and the man encouraged it rather than deny Hex any of these interest, in fact he began to show the robot things more even going out to show him the town more, and the man began to open up more to Hex showing really he was a good guy. - Hex loves gardening, it is a very peaceful time for him, he started gaining a love for it, after finding the garden room the old man had and wasn’t able to use given he wasn’t well, so hex began using it growing many lovely plant and flower, when the Old man died, he started to stay in his garden a lot more - Hex cares for all his friends/ housemates but he has a rather protective bond with Whitty, after they met the robot just knew he needed help, and will always help him no matter what - Hex learned to sing from the old man, The robot was a bit unsure about singing given he wasn’t built for that, but the old man didn’t listen he wanted to show Hex how much fun music was, and that began the robots love for music But after the man passed, Hex hasn’t dared to sing since - Hex was created to take care, so he knows how to treat all kinds of injuries and illnesses, he doesn’t get affected by seeing others in a bad state or get sick at the sight of blood, he just wants to help them - Hex can’t get sick from human illnesses (like colds or the flu) he’s a robot, but he can get overheated or if he gets a small bug in his system he can feel unwell till it’s fix, he may act like he is sick because of it. Bleh and thats all i got thought i would share anyways tell me what ya think

#minus fnf #friday night funkin minus #MinusHex #FnfHex #hex fnf #Hexmod #friday night funkin hex #FnfHc #Hc #Im rambling send help

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years ago

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Fifteen (pt 3)

A/N: Thank you so much for the support so far! This is the first fic I’ve posted anywhere in a long time. I’m totally down to do any requests! There are some season 6 spoilers in this part so SPOILER Alert!! xoxo R

tw: none! just more fluffiness

word count: 2444

(part 1) (part 2)

masterlist

The third envelope, which was labeled #2, was much thicker than the first two. Spencer held it in his hands for a while, just tracing over where you wrote #2. He always made fun of you for writing it like a kindergarten teacher.

“Adults make a two with the loop at the bottom,” He would joke any time you had to write it.

“Good thing I’m not an adult,” You’d reply.

He smiled at the memory. That’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you. You were so incredibly intelligent but also so clueless at the same time. You were definitely book smart. But common knowledge and sense? Not much of that in your pretty head. He liked that though; it meant you didn’t take yourself too seriously. You were down to Earth and kept him there with you, a trait he had to learn as he grew older. He didn’t even realize you taught him so much; he was always too busy trying to teach you.

Ripping open #2 he started to read, a warm fuzzy feeling filling his chest:

“Item 2 is a ticket to the Korean Film festival we went to together. So take it out and admire how bent and worn it is. I was so nervous that day I folded it into tiny pieces in my pocket just so my hands had something to do.”

He took it out of the plastic bag you put it in. It really was bent and worn, so much so you could barely read the name and date, July 7.

“That was our first official date, though we had a lot of time to bond between November 17 and that day. Emily died. Well, not really, but we thought she did. We’d take turns crying on the other’s shoulder. Some days I’d show up at yours and you’d immediately know that I just needed you to be strong for me. I’d often return the favor. We were still just friends then, but our pain bonded us in ways no one else really understood. We get each other, Spence, or at one point in our lives we did. I’m not so sure I understand you anymore, at least not like I used to. Sometimes I’d come over and we wouldn’t cry. You’d teach me chess and card games. But usually we would cry, and that was okay.

That was the start of our platonic sleepovers. Do you remember our first one? The night I cried myself to sleep on your couch and instead of kicking me out you put a blanket over me. You thought I was out cold, but I felt you tuck it around me, your hands lingering for a second too long. For the next few weeks we did that when we didn’t have cases. We’d talk about Em and life and everything and cry, and one of us would crash on the other’s couch. Then, if Hotch didn’t send the bat signal for us, we’d get coffee and pancakes the following morning at IHOP. It became a sweet tradition, born out of one of the darkest times in my life. You always took me at my most vulnerable, loved me, and kept me safe. I don’t think I ever really thanked you for that. So, thank you.

Everyone else didn’t think they were platonic. I mean if I were them I wouldn’t have thought we were ‘just friends’ either. The fact that we started carpooling together after our sleepovers probably didn’t help our case. I remember one time I brought you to work with me after an IHOP blueberry pancake breakfast. Rossi ran into us in the elevator and commented that you had on the same exact suit as the day before and that we had been coming to work together a lot lately. We both blushed profusely; we knew what his side eye meant. It’s funny how everyone else knew we loved each other except us. Some profilers we are.

Okay so back to the ticket. Emily’s loss made me look at life differently. Before she died, I confided in her how I felt. She’s the closest thing to a best friend I ever had. Being her usual supportive self, she told me to go for it. That you felt the same about me. That we’d be perfect for each other. That you adored me. I desperately wanted her to be right, so I selfishly believed her.

When she left, I realized how quickly we can lose each other. And her support of us told me what I needed to do. In some weird way it felt like I was doing her justice by pursuing you. I decided I wasn’t going to wait and risk losing you too. So I bought tickets to the Korean film festival in Georgetown you talked about for weeks, even though I know zero Korean. I walked up to you and flashed two tickets. The look on your face is one I’ll never forget. Your eyes lit up and you smiled bigger than I had seen in months. You (thankfully) agreed to go with me.

“I didn’t know you knew Korean,” You said as I drove us there. (I sneakily put on Stacy’s Mom then too, but I don’t think you realized)”

He chuckled. He most definitely did notice that, but what you didn’t notice was how he looked at you as you mumbled the lyrics to yourself. It was dusk and the street lights illuminated your face just so. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than you in that moment, and probably never would again.

Spencer put the ticket and letter down on the table and got up to pace again. He knows exactly how this story ends; he wrote it with you. And in this story he’s the villain.

His stomach twisted up in knots. He rushed back to the table to grab the letter, but his eyes were too bleary with tears to read any of the words. Truthfully, he didn’t want to read them. He wasn’t ready to relive it yet. He wasn’t ready to feel it, because up until now he still got to see you and talk to you. He was able to protect you, just like he had all those nights when you cried in his arms.

He blinked forcefully a few times, forcing his vision to clear enough to keep going.

“I told you I didn’t know Korean. All I know is enough Spanish to get myself through cases. You smiled at that.

“Then why did you want to come?” You asked me.

“Because you wanted to come.” My answer was honest. I love so many things I never thought I would because of you, Spence. You didn’t answer me; the smile on your face was answer enough. Naturally, I got even more nervous.

“So since there are no subtitles will you translate for me as it happens?” I asked; you nodded.

We were strolling around the park the festival was at. It was warm out but you still had on pants and a dress shirt. I don’t know how you did that. I had on a dress and was still sweating. We got there early and were waiting for the first movie to start.

“You know, (Y/N), 1.2 million Americans speak Korean. Korean culture is becoming a vibrant subculture in America. The success of things like anime, Korean Dramas and Korean pop music are just going to add to that number.”

That’s when I looked at you. Your hair had gotten a little longer, but it was cute. Looking back, every hair you’ve ever had was cute. I miss running my hands through it to mess it up. Your eyes were trained on the people milling around us, and mine were on you. I love when you spew out stats. Contrary to popular belief, smart IS sexy. But anyways, your eyes looked so brown and reflected the lights so beautifully. I’ll miss staring into them and getting lost. I once told you I never liked the color brown until I saw your eyes. That’s still true.

“But like 50 million speak Spanish. So I think my tenth grade skills are more applicable,” I joked.

“It’s actually 41 million and I agree. Spanish is a very important language to know. But only a tenth grade level? Say something in Spanish.”

“Tú y yo va a ver una película,” I said in the worst Spanish accent ever. You laughed and said some beautiful Korean like it was nothing. I grabbed your hand. You flinched and looked at me confused. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and ran my thumb across the parts of your hand I could reach. That’s when you realized this was a “date” date and not a friend date. I could almost immediately see the red creep up your cheeks.

We found a place to sit and the movie started. It was called The Housemaid. And true to your word you translated the whole thing for me, much to the dismay of everyone around us. I found myself nestled into your side with your arm around me. You were whispering everything in my ear. Your breath tickled my neck and sent a chill down my spine. Truthfully, I missed half of what you said because I was too focused on not losing my shit. Here you were, the guy I was in love with, arm around me whispering sweet foreign words in my ear. Anyone would melt instantly.

We got through two and a half movies that night. I don’t remember the other two—“

“Sisters on the Road and A Frozen Flower!” Spencer spoke out loud then, as if you could hear him. When he realized you definitely couldn’t hear him because you were in Seattle, and definitely not in his apartment, he groaned and kept reading.

“We had already watched like four hours of movies and I was getting hungry. So, we stopped and got ice cream. I scolded you for getting a large when we both know you can’t have dairy, to which you just shrugged and said, “Dairy allergies are the most common in the world. 65% of the population has issues with lactose. You can’t expect 4,485,000,000 people to not eat ice cream, especially when it’s delicious.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well don’t come crying to me when your tummy hurts later.”

“Oh I most definitely will be coming and crying to you.”

We walked like that for a while, hand in hand, until the chill of the night got to us. We made our way back to my car and you opened the door for me like a gentleman. I wanted to invite you back to my place, but I thought that might give the wrong impression for a first date. So instead I drove you home and you didn’t invite me in. I was a little hurt, honestly. I have been in your apartment more times than I can count, so what was one more? It’s okay though. You made up for it. Remember?

We were sitting on the side of the street and you didn’t get out of the car yet. The windows were down and the radio was off. We listened to the sound of crickets and passing cars as we enjoyed each other’s company in a different way than we ever had before.

“It’s almost midnight, get some sleep. Your brain needs rest after all that translating.”

“Your brain doesn’t rest when you sleep, your body does,” You said and turned to me. Our faces were probably only six inches apart. Your breath was hot on my cheeks and you kept doing that damn tongue thing.

“But you need some sleep (Y/N). You don’t sleep well.”

“I sleep well on your couch,” I said and you smiled. The space between us had gotten much much smaller.

I put my hand on your cheek and felt the slight stubble there. You made the first move Spence. All I did was hold your face, you’re the one who closed the gap.

That was one of the best kisses of my life. It lasted maybe ten seconds, but it was ten seconds that took years to get to. It was all that longing and pining and pent up feelings released at once. Nothing in the world is as special as kissing you, Spencer Reid.

That next Monday we got shit from the team. Garcia is such a blabbermouth. Derek and Rossi made fun of us like middle schoolers. Hotch gave us that big bad ‘one of you will have to leave speech’. Deep down they were all happy for us. We all needed something to be happy about. And we were happy Spence, so so happy. Until we weren’t.

So take this bent up ticket and admire it again before placing the memory of our first date on a shelf in the corner of your mind that will get dusty. I hope someday you’ll brush it off and relive it.

There’s a Korean proverb I learned from you, that means: ‘At the end of hardship comes happiness.’

I hope that’s true.

xo,

YN”

Spencer put the letter down and picked up the ticket. He walked across the living room to a corkboard on the wall. There he took a pushpin and fastened the ticket to the board. It was surrounded by pictures of everyone he loves. Group pictures, his mom, Henry, pictures of the two of you. But in the center of it all was that ticket that had been so bent up because of how nervous you were for your date. He never told you how nervous he was then too. He had to make sure he wasn’t stuttering through the translations. Your close proximity to him, the smell of your perfume, and warmth of your body pressed against him made it hard to think. He held your hand so tightly that night because he thought that maybe you wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking. He only got up the nerve to kiss you because when you weren’t looking he texted Derek, and he told him he had to. He remembered how his heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest when he closed the gap, how you sighed into him, how you sucked on his lower lip ever so slightly. You were right, nothing is quite like kissing the love of your life. It’s like every kiss you ever had before that kiss, the kiss, didn’t count. It’s the only kiss that matters.

He admired the ticket one last time, before reaching in to grab envelope #3.

Part 4!

tags: @l0ve-0f-my-life

- if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know!

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mgg #mgg fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #reid #reid x you #reid fic #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

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hag-rambling-on · 4 years ago

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Rewinxing Timeline Pre-Series

Keep in mind that between events and events can pass centuries. The average experience of a person is 10,000 years. and if you have magic and you know how to use it... Because I love Belgariad Chronicles so magic MAY makes you inmortal because yes.

WARNING: LONG. AND SURE I'M MISSING SOMETHING. OR CROSS SOMETHING. AGGG. MY HEAD.

And yes, in my rewinxing there is racism, selfishness, "human" idiocy and other nonsense. Why do The Ancestresses ALWAYS fight together?

PROTOHISTORY

Ethereals Fight - Big Bang

They actually do it two more times -Nobody says the must be AllIntelligents. So, Out Life, Big Bang Again.

They decide that they better stop and see what could happen to the result of their first and third fights: "life" they decide to call it, it would be interesting if it were allowed to develop.

Planets are formed, they become habitable.

The first intelligent creatures are born (Clariel -female human races, Carabossa -male elven races, Kristjana -female mermaid/triton races, Oros - male centaurs races, Ninfea -female pixies, Laufey -female gigant races, Danu- hermaphrodite selkies). They all talk funny. They all are old as dust.

TIME OF LEGENDS - ANCIENT TIMES

Skips and happens a millennium or two of advance in all systems and their planets.

Magic flourishes. But technology also, the native giants of Xenia are particularly advanced in it.

Darkar, previously knows as Lord Argulus of Larisa, Fae of Birds (one now uninhabitable planet from Hercules, aka Domino system) borns.

All the Mythix members are born already.

Solarian witch Selemisa meets Lumeria and Lumen race (also, first Cosmix user).

Acheron, Wizard of Memories begin to writes the Legendarium.

The days of the groundhog begin.

The Ancestral Witches have born.

Mythix comes together and decides to confront Acheron and his allies.

The Legendarium is closed and the Mythix Ones get separated because people are scared of their association.

THE WAR - THE DARK AGE

Sparks (First Queen of the planet that would become Domino) has born.

Carabossa Acrypta, as soft as dangerous his thorns; finds, keeps safe and educates said the ancestral witches maybe too early in their magic.

The InterRealm Wars starts. Nobody remembers anymore why - which is SHAMEFUL - because wars are stupid. Some energetic or magical resource. It will last for centuries.

Darkar gets both Morix and Shadow Phoenix Blessing.

Many of the planets and kingdoms reflected in the Legendarium no longer exist, Many histories and cultures that will be forgotten. Solaria, Andros and Romulea, among others, can boast they are ancient and have stood on their feet. But even they don't remember everything.

Many other planets, like Domino, Titania and Zenith, have flourished from the remains of previous ones.

The three witches begin to go “a little” crazy - Only Carabossa and his near ones know them at this point.

Darkar is one of the biggest detractors of peace. Something about "new beginnings". Most people take for granted that the Ethereal's blessing and the destruction of his planet drove him crazy.

Acrypta and Arcadia, along with other Mythix and Elders are offered position in the Golden Kingdom. Almost all reject. The Mythix faes and witches in the end they die by age, minus Arcadia because the Ethereals need someone who knews about the Legendarium and forces her. Ninfea escapes on a tiny technicality (but she can no longer move from Hike's remains), Laufey and Carabossa use their magic to go on the run and Danu melts into the Infinite Ocean [[So yes, the Council of Elders don’t actually likes that much the Ethereals but they are not foolish enough to be rude from the front]].

Somehow that includes that it’s the little bricks that make up a castle, the war actually ended. The Peace Accords are signed and their symbol is the Monastery of Roccaluce. Day celebrated on all planets.

The Council of Magic Realm is created with its headquarters in Monastery of Roccaluce in the rest of the planet Hike, Magix.

Alfea, Cloud Tower and Lymphea College are founded. There were already other schools being founded in each pleant, but these have the approval of the Council.

The connection of the Earth/Terra with the rest of the planets is cut abruptly JUST WHEN ALL THE AGREEMENTS WERE FINISHED AND after they played a significant role in the Peace Negotiations.

The Three Witches disappear. Along Darkar. They actually go to Omega and whatever Darkar teach the Three Witches, is such that the planet has been claiming the magic of the visitors to try sustain itself ever since.

MODERN AGE - NEW TIMES

The Major Earth Fairies (Morgana, Diana, Nebula, Sibylla, Aurora, Tinkerbell, Eldora) are teenagers right now.

Overlapping with the Peace Accords, the Wizards of the Black Circle (a minor section of Terra magic user who went their own way). They begin to hunt the fairies as soon as said fairies begin their formation (which is when the wings are solid) and tear them off. This forces all the fairies on Earth to back down and all the negative magic users to hide for not wanting to join them. The Earth soon forgets about magic. The Earth, with the ley lines cut (because in its crossways, now closed, are the last refuges of the fairies, this includes Neverland, El Dorado and Tir Nan Og among others ) it got stuck, lost its quality, and the terrans, quantity of life. But it never got to the Omega level, because, well, something there. The only way the fairies had to get out were the ones able to cast White Circles, only half of the Major Fairies on Terra are capable of doing them, and usually the visits did not turn out well or did not like what they saw outside and the Wizards were destroying them very time they could.

Acrypta keep missing to THE ETHEREALS SIGHT, still searching his kids. ALSO Laufey, whether they are together or not, no one knows, but the Council take for granted that they are in the Golden Kingom, and no one there is going to deny that. Because, while the Elders don't hate the Council, they don't endorse it either. Council of Elders against the Universe.

The Three Witches visit for first time Domino. Tharma and/or Liliss tricked the King of Domino and tried got part of his Dragon Flame - but they couldn't store it all because of how the Blessing works- This visit will become a recurring and increasingly destructive thing, something personal.

Lord Darkar dirty kills Carabossa before he reaches the Three Witches... I... I just tried to redeem the The Ancestresses... NO. Not on my guard... well maybe, they are CRAZY. But he is the first Wizard and kinda blessed by ethereals too. The guy respects that. If Ninfea, bonded pixie to Carabossa didn't die then was by Ethereals dis-grace, I mentioned before. But two ethereal-blessed dudes could "cancel" the other blessings (in Carabossa not the typical blessing but Golden Kingdom inmortal membership blessing)

Almost all people from the Company of Light has born and started or almost finished school at this point. Faragonda switches from Witch to Fairy, Kalshara things happens,

Marion borns and receives the Dragon Flame from her father.

Valtor is “born”. Physically his appearance is a carbon copy to Carabossa, but sadly not my adorkable one and composed of the flesh and blood of the three sisters, Carabossa and the King of Domino Ninfea and Carabossa's pixie tie influences the birth of Valtor (I'll leave it there). AND HE FUCKING ACTUALLY GETS THE DRAGON’S BLESSING. Twisted universe and Ethereal Dark Sense of Humour.

Valtor is sent to mingle with the people to conquer the planets "by wordiness" and get allies, while the witches try “by force”. Griffin joins Valtor, not the Ancestresses. Daphne and Politea borns sometime around here.

The Lord of the Templars Gareth seal Darkar back in Omega BEFORE the destruction of Domino hoping that the fact that according to their latest reports the Ancestresses have abandoned it and the planet now absorbs magic will keep him locked up. It begins to be used as a prison in general. Also he sends Darkar to Omega because their current Boundless Oblivion Keeper, Mandragora had switched sides and he preferred to finish ensuring that everything was in order and check any what she could have done.

With an unexpected, but welcome freedom, the Ancestresses become more agressive and forces Valtor’s political hand. All politics in vain but for all this policy and such is that in season 3 Valtor moves so fast in the theft of spells between planets.

Griffin lefts Valtor, the Company of Light is officially founded. YAY!!! -F*CKING FINALLY. They had suspicions against Valtor until then.

Bloom (named Ariadne in Domino) and the main cast and others around their ages are born.

With Valtor as the most obvious and localized target, they easily send him to Omega and one less problem.

Politea betrays Daphne.

Roxy is born with Morgana visit to Terra. She stays with her family for a bit.

The Ancestresses attack Domino in retaliation knowing that "his daughter" had a lot to do with this. No, not because he was their son, but because he was their toy. The witches first attempted to attack Domino across the Infinite Ocean, so only Daphne was able to defend it. Quickly changing the scene, they attacked her sister and and even faster than them she jumped to protect her, then Daphne transferred the Dragon's Flame to Bloom, a moment that they took advantage of to defeat but actually not kill her (because having a fairy who had obtained the Nymphix could be useful later to dissect).

All this time it served to reunite the Company of Light who totally went with the intention of -kill- seal them in Boundless Oblivion since they are not as nice as The Templar Leader (specially with Oritel and Marion leading and their missing daughters), and there are many so they can actually do the spell quickly (Gareth went one on one with Darkar, go Gareth!!) But the witches did not leave without a fight and all Domino went with them to Oblivion.

PRE-SERIES

Faragonda becomes Headmistress.

Morgana witnesses Bloom's arrival on Earth and gives a super-ultra-mega-fast advice to Mike and Vanessa. She didn't even get a chance to properly introduce Roxy and Bloom or learn Bloom's name.

Sadly, Bloom arrival also triggers the one of the Wizards of the Black Circle. To the trash the years Morgana spent being careful! So, placing on both girls a little glamour that would prevent their still-developing magic from being detected she had to put on a great little performance to make the Wizards thinks she was the only magic user there, and returned to her Kingdom.

Said spell in the future would prevent Eldora from detecting Bloom's magic.

#rewinxing timeline #winx #winx club #rewinxing #timeline #rambling about winx #winx timeline #worldbuilding

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nobodiisstuff · 5 years ago

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I-Can we-I'm sorry, are we not gonna talk about Gar? Not gonna talk about what he went through? All of it? From ss1 to ss2. I mean, there's a lot of things to rant about but I'm biased and I adore Gar so we'll go with him for now.

Keep in mind I'm going off what I remember I didn't rewatch both seasons and Google shit. This is how I feel and boi do I feel. Very detailed Spoilers.

Let's start from the beginning, Gar kills for the first time. Okay, we clearly see afterwards that he's shaken. It would've been nice if Rachel was more sympathetic when urging him to run but I'll take what I can get. Then, we get a little more. He's in the cabin he sees blood in his mouth, on his hands and the good ole scientist in the field. Okay, I'll take what I can get.

AND THEN, he almost dies. HMMmMmMMMM. Sounds pretty traumatic. Oh don't worry, Rachel's demon dad saved me so it's fine. (Side note. The way Trigon died. I mean fuck that. But I'll go into depth on another rant dwbi)

THEN, he dies. Actually. And...I still don't understand how he's still alive. Did Rachel work some vodoo, was he never really dead? I mean the characters do a lot of death assuming without even checking so that's plausible, but the point is, I'M PRETTY SURE HE WAS DEAD FOR A FEW MINUTES. And not just the ole 'I fell down the stairs and broke my neck' death. Noooo. He was beat to death by people he considered family. By a man who had taken him in. That's a little, just a little traumatic. Add that with everything he went through before and you got yourself a young man in desperate need of therapy.

Except no. Cause the show, the fucking show I swear to God, JUST BRUSHES IT UNDER THE CARPET. 'Let's give this poor, poor child who's already been through a lot some scarring experiences and then not mention it ever again. Yeah. No effects. Just gone. It's all in the past.' (Another side note, Gar turns into a snake. The whole time he's had his powers he's been nothing but a tiger and then, miraculously, he turns into a snake and there isn't even a reference to it? Conner asks what he could do and Gar isn't like 'Oh but I turned into a snake once...after dying...yeah wasn't my best moment' I mean I can definitely see and hear Gar saying that but no. He just, what, forgets????)

THEN, and this isn't that big of a moment but I'm bringing up everything I can remember, THEN, Rachel, his lady friend, almost cuts his hand off. Albeit in her sleep and it wasn't really her just the demon inhabiting her body, but then she proceeds to yell at him and its like, can this boy, my beautiful green baby, get a break? (Also Jason. Just. Jason. H-)

THEN, he's left in the tower. Alone. Aka, abandoned. Dick drops the responsibility of a whole uh being onto him and then just-adios bitch. After a 'fight, a biiig secret, everyone just leaves. Gar, sweet Gar, stays. And for why??? He stayed for Dick and Dick left. Dick, you're a fucking dick.

THEN, and we're getting to the big stuff, Conner fights the police and runs off. Honestly, I saw Gar turn away and I thought 'Is he running? Nah, he's gonna change and become Tigerman and run with Conner'. But he DIDN'T. Because, and I think we often forget this cause he's so insightful sometimes, but he's a child. A child under a lot of stress. A. Child. And now he feels guilty and Dick is being a dick so he's guilty, confused and alone. He didn't know that Conner was basically an infant, he didn't expect to see police brutality ( and he shouldn't expect that cause ya know...police) and he didn't know that his phrasing had to be precise.

But it's fine. He gets Conner, talks to him, they're good.

BUT THEEEN, (Side note again I love Mercy. Is that her name? Mercury? Merciline? Oh, yeah Mercy Graves. I love that woman. 👌🏽)

Anyway, BUT THEN, Cadmus breaks in shoots him with a dart (also why was there so much blood if it was tranquillisers darts I just-) and then he, and Conner, are taken captive. Oh Noooo he's lost his free will (that neck thing looks wholly uncomfortable BTW)

Don't worry though, he's fine. Until he isn't. Cause, TADA, Brain surgery. -insert exhausted sigh-

So we see them poking his brain triggering memories, emotions etc. I thought, 'Well they just want the tea on the Titans.' No. They don't give a shit about the Titans.

So now he's under their control. Play the right song and rawr I'm a tiger. Okay. At least he isn't killing people-HE'S FUCKING KILLING PEOPLE. Play the right song and rawr I'm a homicidal tiger. He kills that one scientist (and don't even get me started cause he was in a mind thing or whatever and I wonder if he thought he was attacking Rachel). No big deal. Another scientist. Its just her right? No. No. It. Isn't.

THEN, They put him in public. Who knows how many he hurt there.

THEN, The amusement Park. Siiiiiigh. Conner's all like 'I did this hrm hrm hrm'. No honey. No babe. My beautiful boi. Garfield did that. Remember?

So now Gar has blood on his hands. A lot of blood on his hands. And he's aware of that, but he doesn't know who, or how many, and that seems like the kind of information our baby would want. He such a pure boi.

THEN, Donna dies and, really? Like that's the best you could do? You just had two showdowns and you're like, nah. And it's just a lot happening in a short amount of time, that has to be overwhelming for a child.

And I hope we get to see some lasting effects of what he went through. Dick got his development, Rachel got her development, albeit rushed and a bit weird but whatever, Jason got some development (I'm still mad we only got bits and pieces of his trauma. You had a whole episode for a love story but can't even bother to give this boy more than 5 minutes of screen time?) Kory got, and yeah, Dick got the most development but like I said before. I'm biased. I honestly mostly care about Gar. And Conner. Sometimes Jason.

And can we talk about Rachel for a sec? She pulls her 'OMG I know you Gar come back to me hnnnng' vodoo and boom. Okay. She's a witch, she's powerful. I got it. You can't spell it out for me any more than you already have. But the fact that he didn't even think to attack her when he normally attacks any and everyone in his sight? That's upsetting.

I just feel they could've done a lot with that character and his experiences but they didn't and they've officially pissed me off even though I know I'll binge watch the third season. They shove a lot of things into a short amount of time and then don't address it as it should be. If I was Gar, I'd be curled up on my bed crying. The fact that he could still stomach turning into a tiger and 'fighting crime' after all he's been through and all he's done....ehh....sounds kinda odd. I get it, people cope differently yada yada but come on guys. This is your second season. We've given you a lot of feedback after the first. Can you just-I don't know-get your shit together? Just a little.

Also, side note, I heard what y'all said about 'Gar will explore his powers blah blah' but uhm. Since when did he care? Last I heard he was a-okay being a tiger. A little foreshadowing would've helped but hmmmmm. I'll take what I can get. I have so much more to say but I can't remember also it doesn't relate to Gar also I can't remember.

I have one request. Lies. I have a lot of requests. But I'll say one request. Please. PLEASE. Can we get more screen time for Gar? More development? Thank you.

#garfield logan #titans #rachel roth #is that her name?#jason todd #dick grayson #kory anders #conner kent #rants n rambles #i'm sorry #:( i love them #siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

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Not Coming Back / Uris! Reader Angst

Request: Could you write an imagine where the reader is Stan's sister and has to tell the losers club that he's dead?

Okay, dear anon, my feelings :’( <3 This is an alternate version of my imagine Beep Beep Richie, if you haven’t read it!

Starting to step into the restaurant, your heart beats painfully hard in your chest, terrified to be back in Derry but glad to be stepping out from the inky darkness of the town’s chill night and into some kind of warmth. As you enter the Jade of the Orient, stalling slightly as you swear you feel eyes burning into the side of your face, you look behind you quickly, searching into the deserted street for some kind of movement but the only thing you feel is a flash of pain in your palm, a reminder of the promise you made many summers ago. Though the street hadn’t heard laughter for a while, there were still the street-lamps stubbornly glowing their off-auburn light against your skin, nostalgic in their feel as they light the red brick buildings under the rainy sky. Shooting memories of pitiless shining summer suns beating its hot rays down upon your face with the promise of a noon of glaring turquoise skies and clouds that flutter by like turtles swimming through the ripples of an emerald ocean flash through your mind, the air hot and oppressive as the squeals and groans of good old Silver filled your ears, bumping and skidding over little pebbles that spray out like rain drops onto this road. The memory of your brother, his little curls hitting against his forehead as he cycled down next to you, a smile twitching on the corners of his frown in his usual fashion as he skidded out of the way or Richie as he brakes suddenly. Bumping into you, the two of you share a small look, rolling your eyes before just silently talking between yourselves for a moment, until the two of you burst out in fits of giggles.

But there’s no hope left here. Derry’s, and your abandonment was no longer a temporary thing, there was no joy, or warmth for you back here. You would never hear your brother complain about the Losers again, would never hear him hark on about all the birds he had spotted near the fountain today as the two of you lie side by side on his bed. You would never again be able to sit down next to him, placing the moving boxes down into his new home as he sighs happily. You would never be able to nudge his ribs as he squints at you, laughing at the faces he’s pulling in his wedding photos as you flick through them, relishing in the memories. You would never again be able to hug him for successfully starting his first accounting job, for all the highs and lows of your shared lives. You would never see him again.

Or so you thought.

‘Hey, Eds, what the hell happened to your fanny pack?’

As Eddie turns away from the fish tank, a little more hyped than he should be both in total terror and the slight relief his heart still feels at having escaped Myra, of having been taken back to the one place he always knew where he belonged, where he was always destined to be, his mouth twitches into a smile as he sees you standing gingerly next to the giant gong, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

‘Y/n… It’s so good to see you’, Mike says with a hesitant and slightly far away smile on his face as he begins walking around the circular wooden table to get to you.

‘Yeah, congrats on b-b-being the f-fourth Loser here, and s-still being early.’

‘When did the stutter come back, Big Bill?’ You clamp a hand over your mouth, wonderment at the old nickname slipping through your mouth that you hadn’t thought about in years.

‘It’s alright, y/n’, Eddie starts, ‘it’s been happening to all of us too.’

You nod gingerly, looking around at the three boys you had spent nearly every day of your childhood with, the boys who look back at you with equally devoted and terrified eyes before a smile twitches at your lips and you run over to them, engulfing them all into the biggest, tightest bear hug you’ve had since the day you left Derry.

As the ripples of the gong fill the otherwise silent private room with a dull thudding beat, it’s final shrill crescendo making you wince back a little into Eddie’s maroon jacketed arm, you’re surprised to turn around and find the shy smile of Richie Tozier glaring back at you, an unholy mustard yellow gleaming into your eyes. You don’t notice Ben and Bev watch the two of you with little smirks on their faces as you just freeze, Richie in fear that seeing all his old friends again would bring on another panic attack, you to try and stop the tears from welling in your eyes that Stanley would never again be with them. The Losers’ Club would never be whole.

Finally, Richie breaks the tense silence by saying, ‘I guess this meeting of the Loser’s Club has officially begun, hey y/n? I have to say, you look just as smoking hot as I remember you.’

‘Oh god, beep beep Richie’ the rest of the guys groan out, laughing timidly amongst themselves as they move to sit down, but thankful for the little sliver of familiarity the moment had allowed them to revel in before the more serious business began, before playtime was over and they had to face up not all of them came here for a pleasant little reunion dinner. Sliding down into the seat next to Big Bill, you smile pleasantly at your old friends, ignoring Eddie raise his eyebrows slightly at Richie as Ben takes a big swig of his drink, everyone noticing but not daring to mention the way your eyes would slide quickly over the one last remaining seat opposite you, a blaring big hole in your heart, and the awkward elephant in the room.

‘So..’, Richie starts, fiddling with his beer, ‘is Stanley really that much of a pussy, y/n? Huh?’

‘He’s a busy guy, Richie, I bet he just had something else on’, Beverly quickly replied, but her fingers slightly trembled against the white tablecloth anyway. Bill nods eagerly in agreement as Mike just stares at you, his smile dropping down into the most heartbreaking frown as you realise he hadn’t told the others yet either. It filled you with a warm flash of comfort, just for a moment, that you weren’t alone in this grief.

‘Yeah, he’s a big fancy accountant now, isn’t he?’ Ben adds.

Eddie elbows Richie slightly in the ribs as he starts spouting again. ‘yeah, Big man Stanley Urine always was going to make it, wasn’t he?’

And that’s when you broke.

You didn’t think you had ever felt such pain before.

‘I’m sorry about the empty seat, y/n, but we all wanted Stanley to be here tonight too. And in a way, he is, he’s with all of us.’ Mike nods slowly at you, telling you it was time.

‘What are you mushing on about now, Mike’, Richie laughs hoarsely, but everyone could tell it was just the nerves.

You weren’t expecting the deathly silence that filled the room, the painful gasps and dropping off glasses onto the floor as you manage to whisper out:

‘Stan...Stan isn’t coming, because Stanley’s dead. He died a few days ago.’

‘Wh-what?’, Eddie breathes out, his breaths coming out short and desperate as he fumbles in his pocket for his aspirator.

‘What the fuck do you mean?’, Richie starts, believing you were joking until he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks in hot, volcanic gushes, splattering like pregnant blood drops onto your empty plate.

‘It’s that clown isn’t it’, Beverly adds, staring down at the swirling drink in her hand with wide eyes, ‘…Pennywise. He killed him, didn’t he. It’s starting to click back into place now, all the things I wanted to forget. But Jesus, y/n, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I never thought Stan....’

Bill could do nothing but nod at Mike, a faltering frown cracking on his face as he gazes slowly across the oaken table, ignoring Richie’s slight glance over at Eddie, whose eyebrows are furrowed in pain as he stares at Bill.

‘L-let’s start d-drinking, s-shall we?’

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judelaw · 5 years ago

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Yonvers Relationship Masterpost (+ why Yon-Rogg is so great)

Anonymous said: Hi there! This genuinely isn’t meant to come off as accusatory or anything but could u please explain why you like yon rogg so much/ship yonvers/etc? I’ve only see CM twice but I’m wondering if I was too quick to dismiss him ??

I’m replying in a text post because there is so much canon Yonvers content that this explanation is going to get really long and this way I can save the progress. I hope that's alright! (I’ll probably forget to mention one or two things because as I said, there is just so much, so this is most likely going to be an incomplete list). Also I don’t know how well I can explain it because it’s so obvious to me how amazing both Yon-Rogg and Yonvers are but I’ll do my very best to describe it by using canon examples from the film, the deleted scenes and the official Marvel books “Starforce On The Rise” (SOTR), “Hero Storybook” (HS) and “Starforce Mission Log” (SML), as well as the art book and "The Official Movie Special” (MS) shortly - just the film would already be enough but if Marvel provides us with so much information why not use it to further prove my point, right?

First of all, Yon-Rogg was never supposed to care about Carol in any way yet he not only likes her, he fell in love with her.

“They have a tight bond, but Vers’ humanity still comes out, and I think that is hugely attractive to Yon-Rogg. I think he finds her irresistible, and it’s her human elements that he really warms to.” (Jude Law) (MS)

Yon-Rogg’s the poster boy of the Kree and therefore supposed to embody their values. He should be some unemotional guy because that’s the Kree lifestyle (”[...] more focused, driven, and less emotional, which is more of a Kree and certainly more Star-Force’s way of doing things.” - Jude Law) yet he’s just soft. He refuses to harm anyone who isn’t a Skrull (who he believes are all terrorists due to the propaganda and manipulation of the Supreme Intelligence, just like Carol believed that) unless it’s unavoidable.

He, again just like Carol, really believes they are noble warrior heroes who not only protect the Kree but also every nation too weak to defend themselves.

Yon-Rogg saved Carol’s life by not only taking her with them to Hala but also giving her his blood. She would have died otherwise - in fact she did die and Yon brought her back to life (”He brought her back to life with Kree blood [...]” - Jude Law). Was it still technically kidnapping? Of course. But a) it wasn’t his fault she was there at all, it was Mar-Vell who dragged her into a war without telling her what it’s about, b) for all he knew she could have been well aware of what’s going on could have been on the side of the Skrulls, c) he gave her an easy way out, he only wanted the core, Carol was the one who shot the drive and almost killed herself in the process and d) again, she would have died if he didn’t do it. Did he only do it because of the core’s energy? Probably. Was it still wrong? Yes. Could he have done something else without her dying? No. Even she even died with the Kree medical technology taking care of her, she would have 100% died on Earth with much more primitive technology.

Did he lie to her for six years? Yes. Would he have to apologize for that? Yes. But realistically, did he have a choice? No. Imagine he would have told her the truth - the Supreme Intelligence would have gotten both of them killed. Carol can only break out of the simulation at the end of the film because of everything that has happened in the film. If Yon would have just told her and she would have gotten her memory back like that, she’d lack the emotional drive to unlock her full powers. And even if she still would have somehow managed to break out - did he know that was even possible? No. It's said in the film to be impossible. So he had to believe she would absolutely either die or just get her memory taken away again if he would have told her the truth.

It was him alone who saved her yet he obviously never made a big deal out of it otherwise Carol would have told the science guy it was his blood instead of just telling him her first memory was a blood transfusion without giving more details (or Carol was just an asshole and didn’t give a fuck if that Skrull would die for nothing but I choose to believe she is actually a nice person as it lines up with what we see in the film). Carol isn’t even aware of what Yon did for her because he isn’t the kind of person to brag with anything which is also also why despite being a hero to the Kree, he’s never arrogant about it as stated in Starforce Mission Log:

“[Yon-Rogg] is a famous warriror in the fight against the Skrulls. Whenever Kree approach him or salute him to show their gratitude, he’s always very gracious. I can only hope to be as admired as he is one day - not that I would ever admit that to him.”

Yon-Rogg has always treated Carol incredibly well. So well in fact that Carol can not only hit him playfully (keep in mind he is her commander)

She also describes him as her friend in SML:

He’s never angry at her even when she directly ignores his orders (see eg. Yon-Rogg being there for Carol when she calls him a second time even though he has ordered her in the first call to not leave her original position or her questioning his orders twice in SOTR when his reaction is just to be really sweet with her).

She’s his favorite.

(SML)

(SOTR)

And he let’s her get away with things no one else gets away with (in SOTR Vers is questioning his orders, gets called out for it by Korath, Yon-Rogg defends Vers and sends Korath away [see two pictures down] - only to later glare at Minn-Erva to shut her up when she questions the same orders) because, as the Supreme Intelligence stated, he’s blinded by his feelings for her.

Yon-Rogg is protective of her, defends her even in front of his own team

(SOTR)

As well as in front of his God (and abuser) the Supreme Intelligence by insistingVers is ready for the mission, even though he told Vers like 5 minutes earlier she needs to be in control of her anger first.

He most likely does that because he knows how much Vers wants to come along on the mission and he just cannot say no to her/wants her to be happy which happens again on Torfa when Yon-Rogg knows it’s most likely an ambush and too dangerous to go, Vers says she’ll go on her own and Yon tells her not to only to then say they will all go.

Carol feels so comfortable around him.

She can make fun of him in front of others and he’s only amused by it

or even chooses to compliment her.

And he’s so happy to just be with her.

He loves her humor.

(SOTR)

Even starts joking around like that as well.

(SOTR)

And even when she’s his enemy he still appreciates her wit.

Carol’s seeking his shelter whenever she’s afraid/confused. Not only on Hala after her dreams

(he would rather sleep but it still there for her)

“I knocked on his door and woke him up to go to the gym. I have to hand it to Yon-Rogg - even though he would rather sleep when I wake him, he always makes time for us to train.” (SML)

but also when she finds out about Mar-Vell she immediately calls him.

They are a team. The two of them.

Vers can even shoot him literally just for fun because she knows it doesn’t have consequences for her.

“I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of [my photon blasts], but I enjoy giving Yon-Rogg a taste of them when he pins me on the mat or ends up giving me a nosebleed during training.” (SML)

Yon-Rogg cares deeply about her, screaming her name six (6) times when he cannot reach her on Torfa, fearing they lost her.

He’s actually distressed about losing her.

(HS)

We see Yon-Rogg angry twice in the film, both times are related to Carol. Only his worry/love for her can awake such strong feelings. The first time is when the connection to her breaks again (after he has just “reunited” with her).

And the second time is when he’s facing the Carol-Skrull. At first because he thinks the Skrulls have done something to her (again). And then because he realizes she knows the truth and therefore he lost her.

However, what really gets me about their relationship is what he’s doing in the end of the film. His God/leader/abuser has told him to get Carol and the core. Yon-Rogg is terrified of them.

Yon knows what horrible things will happen to him if he fails - yet he fails on purpose. After Carol breaks out of the simulation, he completely refuses to even try to capture her. They fight against each other on Mar-Vell’s ship when he thinks she has the core but as soon as he realizes she doesn’t have it anymore (and complimented her diversion), he leaves her alone. He needs to get both Carol and the core and Yon-Rogg was literally the only person who even had a small chance against Carol when her powers where fully activated, yet he runs away to get the core.

And when the core is completely out of reach and Carol is the only “thing” he can capture to save his own life, he not only hesistates and visibly struggles due to his feelings for her -

He gives up. And compliments her yet again.

He has chosen Carol, to not even try to hurt her despite having had many chances to, over his own life and his God.

Yon-Rogg then goes on to provoke Carol by saying exactly what he knows would anger her, hoping she’d kill him so he doesn’t have face the Supreme Intelligence again.

But just as Yon refused, Carol refuses to kill him as well - even though she had the perfect excuse and chance to and even though she just killed a bunch of Kree she didn’t even know without any hesitation two minutes ago. She even had fun.

But when she’s facing Yon-Rogg she’s just looking hurt.

Why is she hurt?

Because Yon-Rogg never mistreated her.

When she figures out the truth, her first words literally are

Not “They lied to me.” or even “He killed Dr. Lawson.” or anything else. No. “He lied to me.” The most shocking thing to her is that Yon-Rogg lied. Because she never thought he, her best friend (next to Maria but she couldn’t remember her for six years), could ever harm her. Because Yon-Rogg has never done that before.

Their relationship, no matter if you see it romantically or as a platonic friendship, shouldn’t have existed. Yon-Rogg should have never fallen for her. She is heavily emotional. He should despise that. But her human, emotional side is exactly what he’s falling in love with (”[...] and it’s her human elements that he really warms to.” JL).

(I personally believe it started the minute they met. Carol is heavily emotional, scared when she’s facing him. The Kree told Yon-Rogg you cannot be a good warrior if you are emotional. Yet Carol bravely shot the core, ready to sacrifice her own life for what she believes in, proving to be what he would consider a noble warrior hero despite being emotional. And that’s incredibly to Yon-Rogg. Because he’s rather emotional as well but grew up in a society where he wasn’t allowed to be that. Where he was told he can never be a warrior when he’s emotional. But Carol proved them wrong. Back at the lake and especially when she breaks out of the simulation).

Carol should have simply been a weapon to him. But she wasn’t. He could have simply treated her like a subordinate instead of his friend. Be he didn’t.

He could have trained her in a military gym instead of going to the gym of his childhood with her (stated in the art book), instead of sharing something so private with her. But he didn’t.

He ran to the gym with her even though he didn’t understand what’s so great about running and as her commander he could have just told her they’ll take the public transport. But he didn’t.

She could have befriended anyone else on Hala. But she didn’t. Her only other friend is Att-Lass and she’s not even nearly as close to him as she is to Yon-Rogg.

She could have stayed in her room, on her own or went to anyone else for comfort but she chose to go to Yon-Rogg again and again and let him in.

And he was there for her. Always.

Instead of staying Kree commander and weapon or at the very least commander and subordinate, they became friends. And Yon-Rogg even fell in love with her.

They have such a strong bond. A bond that despite everything still isn’t broken at the end of the film and that can still get fixed. And I really hope Marvel doesn’t throw all of this out of the window but gives them both the chance to get happy again - instead of ending their relationship by killing Yon-Rogg off because Carol unknowingly send him back to his abuser.

They both deserve better than that.

#captain marvel #marvel #yonvers #yon-rogg #carol danvers #abuse #starforce on the rise #hero storybook #starforce mission log #long post #yonvers relationship masterpost

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sneakronicity · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, Luis (Ant-Man movies), L*ura B*rton (but only briefly promise) Additional Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Fix-It, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Divorced Clint Barton Summary:

A few weeks after the snap is reversed, Clint is struggling to fit back into his old life. He's not the same person he was five years ago, and he can't just go back to how things were, so he makes a drastic change and tries to find new purpose in a world without Natasha.

But what if he doesn't have to? What if there's a way to get her back?

Post Endgame fix-it fic

~~~~~

The cafe was quiet, with only a few scattered tables occupied by people who looked like they had chosen it for that very reason. Clint certainly had. It had just reopened after five years of sitting vacant, and had yet to regain all its capabilities let alone its clientele.

How many businesses were there out there just like this one? Stuck in the past and trying to pick up where they left off when the world moved on without them? How many would fail? How many had been repurposed while the owners were blipped? Everyone was back now, but adjusting to this might be even harder than it had been to adjust to them being gone. Some people had never moved on and had welcomed the return, but what of the people who had? Past and present colliding couldn’t be easy to deal with, and even those in the former group like Clint had found picking up again impossible.

Staring thoughtfully out the window, he saw Wanda crossing the street toward the cafe, the sun gleaming on her hair making it glow like fire, and for a moment another redhead was brought to mind. The shade is all wrong, he thought, ignoring the pain in his heart and rising to his feet to greet her as she approached.

“Clint, it’s good to see you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. He noted how her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and how the hug felt almost absent, like part of a routine with no feeling behind it.

“Sorry, it's been a while,” he apologized. He had called her when he’d moved to the city, told her what had happened, but this was the first time he’d seen her since Tony’s funeral. Taking his seat again, he surveyed her quickly as she ordered her coffee, then asked for a refill himself. She looked thinner, sharper, like her features had been carved from stone. “You look good,” he said anyway.

This time when she smiled it was slightly more genuine, like she was still in there somewhere, just sleeping. “So do you,” she replied, knowing full well he was lying so doing the same in return. “Tired of the mohawk?”

Clint chuckled self consciously, rubbing the side of his head where they hair had grown back in. “Yeah, well… it’s a pain to keep up.” The waitress arrived with their coffee and they took a moment to just try to relax in each other’s company. It was slightly easier now that the ice was broken. “How have you been?” He asked eventually. He knew it was a stupid question, obviously she wasn’t doing well, but it was what one asked after not seeing each other for some time. Or any time really, Standard small talk.

She seemed to take his question more seriously though, and contemplated it longer than he expected. “Every once in a while I have a moment where I think maybe I will get through this and move on again, but it always fades,” she replied, eyes fixed somewhere outside the large window.

Wanda was so young, but had lost so much in so few years. Her parents, her brother, her lover, her friend. It was too much for one person, and it wasn’t fair that she had to go through this. She has nothing and you have everything, yet you throw it all away. He hated the thought, the guilt. Would he ever be able to be around most of his friends again without this nagging guilt? When Wanda had lost Pietro it had almost tore her apart, but she had been so strong, had turned her pain into good instead of letting the darkness consume her like he had. She was the one who deserved her loved ones back, who deserved to be happy, to live with more than just regret and loss.

When Clint looked up at her again he found her studying him with a piercing gaze, like she could see deep down into his soul, see the ugliness, the rot that was eating him up from the inside.

He looked away.

“The offer still stands. If you wanna come back to the Avengers, we could use the help getting everything back up and running smoothly again,” he said, clearing his throat. What if she secretly hated him? If she resented him for getting his family back while hers was gone forever? But not Natasha; Natasha they had both lost.

“I appreciate it,” Wanda replied evenly, her voice not cold, but not warm either. “But I need to be on my own right now.” She paused for a long moment, and when she continued it was with the first hint of emotion in her voice, “I might travel for a few weeks. There are too many memories… maybe going somewhere I have not been will help.”

Clint got that. Despite what he was doing for the Avengers, his words to Rhodey about helping, he had yet to set foot back on the destroyed base. He wasn’t quite ready to face that yet, but he would have to soon. “I could go with you… if you wanted,” he said quietly, more a plea than an offer.

The wall she had built up between them seemed to crumble then, even if only a little, and she reached across the table and took his hand. “You are needed here,” she said, a faint but affectionate smile on her lips, “But I appreciate the offer.”

Laying his free hand over hers, Clint squeezed it gently. He wasn’t so sure he was needed anywhere, maybe he never had been, but he didn’t voice this. He had lost Natasha, but Wanda had lost pretty much everyone. Everyone except for him. And it was so easy to forget that while it had been over five years for him, for Wanda it had been only weeks since Vision’s death. “Just know the offer is always there. Whenever you need me, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Clint,” she said softly, her eyes slightly wet. Maybe she was a bit distant, a bit cut off from her emotions, but he knew Wanda was still in there, he just had to coax her out. And he had meant his words, he would be there for her no matter what. “I do not know how I would have gotten through losing Pietro without you, or the others. We must stick together, yes?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. When Pietro had died she had had an army to rally around her, but now who was left? He and Sam were probably the only ones she had spent any amount of time with left, unless she wanted to go hang out at the old folks home or wherever it was that Steve had taken up residence. He had essentially abandoned her, abandoned all of them, but Clint wasn’t quite ready to work through his feelings on that whole issue yet.

“Then you know I am here for you as well,” Wanda continued. Clint nodded, figuring that was acknowledgement enough, but she wasn’t finished. “She would be proud of you.”

The words were supposed to be comforting, but they hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking all the air from his lungs. How could she be proud? Natasha had given her life for him so he could get his family back, and he was throwing that second chance away. The cost had been too great.

Wanda could clearly read his thoughts written all over his face and squeezed his hand harder. “Above all else she would want you to be happy, and would be proud of you for taking the needed steps. And trying to fill her shoes on the team as you are doing.”

Clint chuckled a little bitterly and shook his head. “No one can fill her shoes, least of all me.” For five years it had come down to Natasha. The rest of her original team had left her holding the ball, but she never once dropped it. She kept everything going, proved to be the leader he had always known she could be. She deserved to be here now, the official leader of the new wave of Avengers. Clint was a poor substitute in her wake. “But I have to try. Everything she worked for… I have to keep it together. For her.”

“It is why we keep going,” Wanda agreed. “For all of those we have lost.”

Clint studied her for a long moment before smirking half heartedly. “How’d you get so wise? I’m the old guy here, you’re making me look bad.”

Her smile in return was soft and real, like the one he remembered from all those years ago. “You do not need me for that.”

A joke? An actual joke? Despite trying to look wounded, Clint couldn’t help but grin back. He hadn’t just been mourning his family those five years, but Wanda too. Her brother had given his life to save Clint, and there was nothing he could ever do to make it up to her, but he had adopted her into his heart, made her an honorary part of his family, even if he never voiced it. She was so strong, so resilient, but he worried. How much was too much? Everyone had a breaking point, he was a walking example of that. But if she could still joke around he had to believe she hadn’t reached hers yet. She resembled Natasha in that manner. “Ohhhh, I see how it is. Kick me while I’m down. I get it.”

“You make such an easy target,” she replied, and for a moment it was just like old times. Wanda wasn’t much for joking around, she was one of the more stoic members of the team, but Clint seemed to bring out her playful side more than the others. He took pride in that, same as how he had always prided himself in being the one who could make Natasha laugh. Not a polite chuckle, or something soft and breathy, but a full on belly laugh. It had been beautiful, and rare, and he didn’t know another person who could accomplish it. Had been able to accomplish it. Damn it.

“Well if I’m expected to take a beating right now, I might as well risk trying the pancakes here as well. Not sure they’re back up to snuff yet,” Clint said, signalling the waitress. “You in?” Maybe he’d even throw in a side of bacon. It would be the first solid meal he’d had in weeks, and if he ended up with food poisoning it would just be his luck, honestly.

“Why not.”

If only it could always be like this. If only they could forget all the loss and pain and heartache and just enjoy the day, and each other’s company. Talk about banal subjects like the weather, or some stupid tv show. If only the world, or the universe in this case, were a kinder place. No crazies with god complexes trying to rule it or ruin it. Just peace, and happiness, with everyone they loved around to share it.

If only.

#Clint Barton #Wanda Maximoff #Clintasha #My ficlets #Endgame fix-it fic #my browser is having issues #Ao3 wouldn't share properly to tumblr #so did my own thing #hopefully this works

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nadiineross · 5 years ago

Note

Print: “How do you 'accidentally' achieve immortality?"

note: abt ur prompts.. i ….actually was planning a fic abt immortality but i dont think itll be done for ages so i slammed this one out. i also made a few posts abt superhero aus btw :’). i watched hercules for the first time in like a decade bc of ur other prompt and wow…. hades is still so funny DSJFHSKH ok anyway i prolly wont write a lot in the coming month bc semesters starting next week BUT i can type out some headcanons for prompts u give me, if u guys r interested in that?

i didnt proofread this and i dont want to because i am Lazy anyway thank u sm for continuing to talk to me abt chlodine yrs down the road. pls feel free to send in ur chlodine headcanons or if u jus wanna scream abt them

Nadine’s been alive for a long time, and so nothing really surprises her anymore. But, then again, Chloe is always her exception.

They first meet in India, only a passing thing. Being alive for so long, well, it gets boring. Nadine, also, could never really handle being purposeless. She enjoys having goals and working hard to achieve them, and she definitely enjoys the brief period, afterwards, where she relishes in those achievements.

It was easier, before, to find purpose: fighting. There were a lot of wars and Nadine was good at it. She was, and is, by all accounts, remarkable. However, to preserve her anonymity, she allows herself to dissolve into the unknowns of history.

She has had many names, most of which she has since forgotten. But, her first, she will not forget: Nadine. It is that name she gives to Chloe, and it is the one Chloe knows her by.

At that time, in India, she had nothing to do. It seemed the age of fighting as she knew it was coming to a close, and she grew bored.

Of course, this wasn’t a new experience; Nadine can hardly find anything she has not experienced. Usually, she travelled. She’s been to most places, but they were always changing, and this was something she appreciated on a deep level.

India, she has not visited in almost four decades.

On her first night, she eats a feast on her own. The restaurant owners were impressed, to say the least.

It is routine, her travels. During the day, she sees the sights, explores the places that have changed the most and visits those that she loved the last time she was here. When nightfalls, again, she feasts. Sometimes, when she isn’t too tired, she’ll take someone to bed.

This, she does rarely. It is, after all, hard to find a woman interested in other women in this world. Harder, even, to find one who isn’t interested in a long term investment, since Nadine is not very interested in the part where she outlives everyone. It isn’t a pressing issue, though. She has needs, sure, but she is patient, and sex did not fall very high on her list of priorities.

Besides, she understands. The consequences of being a woman like her are grave and not a lot of people would want to risk their lives for a fling.

Chloe is only her second in India.

There is a river, a half day’s walk away from where she’s staying. It is her second to last night in India, and there aren’t a lot of things she is itching to see, so she decides to make the walk.

By the time she gets there, the sun is hanging low in the sky, not yet set, but almost. She’s sweating from the heat and the oppressive humidity characteristic of the Indian climate. So, naturally, she unbuttons the first few buttons of her shirt and leans over the edge to splash water over her face.

It is a relief on her skin, and she looks up to gasp out a breath when she sees her. Chloe, shameless creature that she is, watches her.

Nadine doesn’t know how she didn’t notice the woman lounging in the water before now. Bewildered, Nadine blinks at her and feels very bare, suddenly hyper-aware of the droplets running down her face and into her shirt.

“Hello,” Nadine finally says. She is good with languages—there isn’t a lot to do when you’ve been alive for a few centuries.

“Hey.” She swims over until Nadine can see her smirk with distinct clarity, until her bare shoulders come up, but does not go farther up the shore. “Not from around here?”

Nadine raises an eyebrow. Clearly not. “No,” she says.

“Huh. Chloe, nice to meet you,” says she, extending a wet hand from the water. Nadine has to slosh into the water to take it and give it a firm, short up-down shake.

It’s a strange name, given the context, and this whole thing takes her off guard. She stupidly blurts out: “Nadine.”

Chloe’s grin becomes wider. She doesn’t try to hide the way she eyes Nadine’s open shirt. Nadine isn’t dense, either, so she knows when there is an opportunity she could take, is she wanted.

She’s not sure yet.

“And you? Are you from around here?”

Humming noncommittally, Chloe stands, abruptly, to her full height and walks around Nadine to the shore. She is naked, and Nadine has to swallow a lump in her throat.

Nadine has seen a lot of women, and she can say with certainty that Chloe is one of the most beautiful she has seen. She tries not to stare and succeeds, given that she has excellent self-control. Though she will admit, Chloe certainly tested her in that moment.

“Where are you from?” Chloe asks as she picks up a shirt strewn across a rock and slips into it. Now, Nadine notices the pair of pants and shoes hidden behind the rock.

Nadine smiles, wryly, aware that she is giving more information than she is receiving. “Africa.”

Chloe doesn’t seem to take offence at her brusqueness. Just laughs. “Ah.” Then, because Chloe is so brave and so young, barely thirty by the looks of it, she stoops and holds up her pants, and asks, “Should I bother with these or are we going to address… what should I call it? The tension?”

Oh, how they address it.

After, as Chloe disappears into the trees on the other side of the river, Nadine realizes that she is entirely, profoundly, surprised.

Nadine has met many bold women; she can be one herself when she wants to be. Chloe, she never really forgets, but she is filed away into a tiny corner of her mind, fading away until Nadine never really thinks about it unless she is alone at a river and has run out of things to think about.

Besides, World War II has started, and she’s occupied with killing those Nazi bastards. She doesn’t enlist in any army—can’t exactly fly under the radar there—but she has connections and resources, and works perfectly well alone.

In the face of all this, Chloe is not forgotten, but she is not remembered.

And Nadine’s life goes on, and on, and on, as it is wont to do.

Nadine doesn’t know why she never dies. It just happened or, more precisely, it just never happened.

Her parents did. She never really knew her father, as her mother raised her, but she does know he died. Her mother, she held as she passed.

Years later, people began to talk. Nadine turned thirty, and that was it.

She doesn’t know if she can die at all, but she isn’t interested in testing her theories. She has avoided fatal wounds for so long; she won’t stop now.

Sure, she has suffered and has felt like she might die, but she doesn’t think she wants to die. There are so many things she wants to know.

So, she decided, a century into her life, that she would not question it. She isn’t at all old enough to have been there for the Trojan War, but she does know not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It is the 2000s and Nadine begins to feel a little existential. She will not fight in wars now, given the stakes and, especially, given her moral compass. Well, at least not official ones. She has accepted that she is a little bit of a vigilante, and she’s focusing on bettering her own home.

Always levelheaded, she never bites off more than she can chew. She only takes to the streets every few weeks. In the meantime, she decides to get into academia.

If she’s so keen on learning, why wouldn’t she go to school? Human achievement is impressive!

She has one PhD already and is working on her second. She has just started, meeting her advisor for only the third time, when she sees a flash of red in the hall, heading towards the History department.

It’s a woman with jet black hair, ponytail swinging. Before Nadine can think to squint, she’s rounded the corner and is gone.

Blinking, Nadine turns away and heads to the courtyard. She likes to sit on the grass and do her research there. Small pleasures.

It’s been an hour, maybe two, when a shadow casts over. Strangely, she feels her heart start to beat faster before she even looks up.

“Hello,” she says, throwing an arm over her forehead to shade herself from the afternoon sun.

Chloe in the flesh. She puts on the same old smirk and looks down at Nadine with her hands on her hips. “Hey, you.”

Nadine raises an eyebrow as she sits down and makes herself at home on Nadine’s picnic blanket, among her sea of books.

“Well, look at you.” Chloe keeps on grinning, shark-like. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“You’re too kind,” Nadine says, thinly. “And neither have you, by the looks of it.”

Dismissively, Chloe waves a hand and tosses her ponytail over her shoulder. “No need to flatter me, you’ve already gotten into my pants.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Much, at least, she thinks. Then, wonders if, perhaps, she is dreaming.

“That’s nice.” Chloe leans closer, growing serious but retaining her persistent underlying curiosity. “Oh, Nadine, what are you?”

Nadine snorts. “Always so bold.”

She shrugs. “Places to be, things to know, people to do. I’m a busy girl.”

Like a shark, Nadine thinks again. She keeps her mouth shut for a few moments, just watching Chloe watching her. As Nadine recalls her memories of Chloe, she notes that Chloe mostly hasn’t changed. Finally, she leans back on an arm and says, “Looks to me like you have all the time in the world.”

“Hm.” Chloe lifts a hand, maybe to touch her arm, maybe to push her hair out of her face, maybe to cup her cheek. Nadine will never know. She tenses, instinctively swaying back a little. Chloe’s hand drops down, but she keeps on smiling. “You’re immortal, then. All the time in the world.”

Nadine doesn’t say anything, just waits for Chloe to draw her conclusions.

“How long have you… been like this?”

Nadine pretends to think. “About a century or five now. You?”

“Well, I was thirty-four when I met you,” Chloe wonders aloud, tilting her head as she does the math. At this, Nadine frowns and, upon seeing this, Chloe huffs a laugh. “Yes, actually thirty-four.”

That makes her roughly two centuries old. Nadine doesn’t know how to feel about this, about everything, about Chloe. She had been, to her knowledge, alone in this for three centuries. Never once had she met someone else like this, and she didn’t want to, she doesn’t think. She had always been slow to trust.

She never tried to think about this too hard; she doesn’t know how it works—is she contagious? But none of the other women turned immortal after going to bed with her. Still, she worries at her lip and examines Chloe.

“How?”

“How am I like this?”

She nods.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Quid pro quo.”

Nadine rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. I just never died.” She sighs, harshly, and closes the book in her lap with a full clap. “I don’t know.”

“That’s alright,” Chloe says, gently. This time, when she reaches out, to touch her wrist, Nadine lets her. Chloe looks down at the point of contact, seemingly charmed. Then, after a beat, meets Nadine’s eyes again and smiles. “Well, I don’t know how exactly it worked, but this was an accident.”

“…what?” Nadine scoffs. “How do you ‘accidentally’ achieve immortality?”

Chloe looks sheepish now. “I went into an ancient temple and mucked around, and maybe I broke something, and… well, here I am.”

Suddenly, struck by the urge to lie down for a decade or at least go somewhere more private for this discussion, Nadine shoves her books into her bag and stands. Chloe, startled, mirrors her movements and then stills as Nadine rolls up the blanket and easily hefts everything up.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Nadine picks up her baseball cap and puts it on, and then sweeps an arm towards the paved path. “We’re going to my apartment.”

A little dumbly, Chloe follows along. “Who’s bold now?”

Nadine gives her a look, and Chloe just smiles, looking away with a shrug. They make the journey in silence, Nadine’s is a stubborn one, and Chloe’s obliging. When they reach the apartment, Nadine lets her in first and gestures to the couch. It’s not a very big apartment, but it’s comfortable and in an alright neighbourhood.

After Nadine puts her bag away, she comes back to see Chloe leaning over the back of the couch to look out her window. She twists back around as Nadine sits.

“You alright?”

Nadine looks up at her, eyes hooded. “Ja.”

Chloe smiles, a kind one. She has such an expressive face. Nadine wants to run her hands over the dips and curves of it. Wants to feel a little more grounded in reality—is she really not dreaming?

The urge to just ask disappears in a moment as Nadine comes back to herself, feeling safer on her own turf.

“So, this is where you’re from.” It’s not a question, but Nadine nods anyway.

“Originally. I don’t remember exactly where but I grew up farther inland and then moved to the coast later before my mother passed.” Nadine rubs a hand at her temple. Tired. “They both died. I’m the only— I was the only one. For the longest time, I was the only one.”

Chloe shifts, an unidentifiable emotion drifting across her face. “Nadine.”

She sighs and says, “I don’t want your pity.”

“You don’t have it,” she says, not ungently. “It’s been a long time.”

For once, Nadine allows herself to give in. She leans over until she falls, turning her face to press her nose into the hard muscle of Chloe’s tensed thigh, just above the knee. She hugs her arms to her chest and counts her breaths. Chloe sighs, too, and puts her hand in Nadine’s hair.

Nadine’s back is to Chloe.

It’s been a long time.

So, this is how it happened.

She was abandoned by her mother and raised by a father who wanted a son. He loved her, regardless. He just taught her the ways of his trade.

Her childhood was spent scaling the shelves of libraries as he did his research and sitting uncomfortably still as he spoke to “experts” in their homes. When she was old enough, by his standards, he took her out to ancient ruins, and they explored.

It could be dangerous; she broke a few bones on these adventures. Most never healed properly, and so bumps and scars littered her body.

The worst, the one that almost killed her, occurred in the temple.

Her father passed a few years before, to disease. She carried on his work, suddenly alone. His life’s work: a crumbling ruin.

She had spent days scouting it out, hidden behind a waterfall, like in the legends. She was nervous. Afraid that her father’s work would amount to nothing, that the life she had led without him would’ve turned out to be a waste.

So, she spent days by the falls and walking along the river. It was there that she met Nadine.

She had thought Nadine was a figment of her imagination at first, peeking out from the top of the water. A beautiful, sweaty spirit of the wilds, dressed like an average person.

A blessing she received.

That night, she went in. There were traps, which she expected, and treasures, which she had desperately hoped for. In the centre, buried underneath layers of chambers, was the Tusk.

She got greedy.

Traps triggered—

The Tusk, she held to her chest—

She curled over, protecting it from falling rubble and—

The tip, sharp and shiny, punctured her middle. It was shallow, but still, she cried out and tripped, and the spear she landed on went too far in to be considered shallow.

She doesn’t remember the details; all she knows is that she came back to herself while crawling out the collapsing entrance, sticky with blood.

She hid the Tusk away, for later, and stumbled her way to the nearest town, broken spear sticking out from her ribs.

Half a year later, freshly healed and free from the doctor, she went back. The Tusk was still bloodied, and a gem from the tip of the Tusk had fallen out somewhere. At least, it made up for all her suffering in gold.

In the face of all that, Nadine was not forgotten, but she was not remembered.

Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, having been vulnerable for the first time in almost half a millennia, Nadine sits up and grimaces. Chloe opens her bleary eyes and stretches.

“What time’s it?”

Nadine could look at her watch, but she grabs hold of Chloe’s forearm. “Does it matter?”

Chloe looks down and frowns. “I suppose not. What’s happening?”

“Do you want to address the tension?”

Chloe’s muscles relax slowly. She kicks her sneakers off and, in one swift movement, shrugs Nadine’s hand off and settles into her lap. Her mouth descends onto Nadine’s.

This time is almost like the last, fast and sloppy. Except they do it three more times, at least, and afterwards Chloe settles in beside her and stays till morning.

Nadine also has many scars, and Chloe maps them all out just as Nadine does to her.

“So, am I the older woman or are you the older woman?”

Nadine bites into her skin, licking a soothing stripe along the scar tissue there.

Chloe groans and looks down. “Does that mean I should shut up?”

Nadine gives her an unimpressed look. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she breathes, hand flying to the back of Nadine’s head. “Whatever you say.”

South Africa is best experienced in the weeks after Summer has passed, in Chloe’s very vocal opinion, and maybe that’s why the days she spends holed up in Nadine’s apartment feels a little like paradise.

She is not the sentimental type, and Chloe even less so, but there is something to be said for attachments. She had forgotten.

Chloe even admits that she was only here because she saw Nadine’s picture and wanted to use Nadine for information on why she‘s the way she is. Nadine doesn’t take it too personally, because she would’ve done the same, probably.

It ends, of course, as all things do. Not permanently, but Chloe isn’t the type to stay still, and Nadine’s set her sights on finishing this damn degree.

They agree, in five years, they will return to the tree, the patch of grass, and try again.

Nadine feels like she has aged the five centuries she had powered through almost numbly in the span of those five years.

They kept in contact because neither of them is the type to make significant, corny gestures like that. Over text, Chloe echoes the sentiment.

For Nadine, it is as if Chloe had barged in, reminded Nadine that she was in control of the remote and that hitting the fast forward button on life wasn’t the only option.

“Why do you chase after violence?” came her voice, tinny over the phone. She was in Russia.

“Do I?”

Chloe hums. “All your wars, your crusades. You insist you don’t want to die and yet…”

Nadine raises her eyebrows and finishes typing out her sentence before pushing back on her desk chair. Her first instinct is to be defensive, but Chloe starts to hum tunelessly, and it reminds Nadine that not everything is a fight to be won and— “Ah.”

“Do you wanna talk about something else?” Chloe laughs, then, and jokes, “My abandonment issues? Inability to sit still? Maybe how I’m greedy and selfish?”

Nadine smiles softly. “It’s okay.” She clears her throat. “I think I just got scared of losing people and just, frankly, losing in general, with life and all. I took being independent to the next level. I forgot the value in doing things senselessly, and in a way that’s exactly what I did.”

“How do you mean?”

Nadine shrugs even though Chloe can’t see. “I don’t know why I’m immortal, and I didn’t want to know. What makes me deserving of eternal life and not anyone else? So, I thought only of what I would do with this and doing those things. I’m good at fighting. Why wouldn’t I fight? And I can’t die—there are causes I could give myself to.

“I mean, there were moments, in between, where my thought would wander, of course.” Nadine pauses, feeling nonsensical. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s alright. I get it.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Anytime, love.” Another breathy chuckle. “Literally, anytime. From now until the rest of eternity.”

“Hello,” Nadine says when she feels a shadow loom over her.

There’s a rustling, and then a kiss to her cheek. “Hey there, sleeping beauty.”

It’s been five years.

Nadine opens an eye and sees Chloe peering down with her stupidly beautiful smile. Her fingers graze at Nadine’s cheek, featherlight, and Nadine’s touches over them. Warm.

“So weird how you haven’t aged a day.”

“Ja, I didn’t get a chance to develop stress wrinkles since you left.”

Head thrown back, wind blowing her hair aside, Chloe laughs. Nadine thinks there hasn’t ever been a surprise as nice as Chloe since the dawn of time.

Stooping over, Chloe kisses her.

#THANK U FOR THE PROMPTS THEY R V INSPIRING and also thank u for still caring abt chlodine yrs later #ok i didnt edit this n i wrote this all in one sitting literally 5 seconds ago and this isnt good like plotwise #and the themes r not thought out at ALL but #but i still am proud of myself for slamming this one out #chlodinefics #ask #anonymous

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justauthoring · 6 years ago

Text

No Reason To (22/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: I think, officially, NRT will be posted on Fridays from now on! So look forward to that :)

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 03x19 and 03x20

You don’t stop running until your eyes land on the sight of Scott and Derek. You’re not oblivious to the chaos that ensues around you and the sparks of electricity that echo in the back of your mind. But you find, as your gaze wanders across the parking lot before you, all of that seems to fade to the back of your mind the second your eyes land on Isaac.

You never truly notice Kira who seems to be absorbing all of the electricity that had been released because you can’t seem to focus on anything or anyone else but Isaac, who lays unconscious is a puddle of water. His body vibrates slightly, alluding to the fact that he’s been electrocuted -- and by the looks of it; badly.

His name leaves your lips in a shrill cry, and then your feet are moving before you even realize it. You slide to your knees next to Isaac, gently taking him by the shoulders so he’s on his back rather then his side, and grab him the by the cheeks. Pressing a finger against his neck, you feel for his pulse, your hands shaking madly.

A shadow falls next to you, and when you raise your head, you meet the eyes of Derek.

“He’s not breathing,” you whisper to him, unable to speak any louder in that moment. Then, slowly, as your words seem to register within you, your voice pitches in panic. “I can’t feel his pulse, Derek. He’s...--”

Derek sets his hand on your arm, in an attempt to soothe you, before turning his head over his shoulder in the direction of your brother. “He’s not breathing! Scott...! He’s not breathing!”

“Have you two been here all night?”

Blinking, you focus up at the figure of your mother and your brother before you, slowly raising your head off of Allison’s shoulder as she does the same. For a moment, you forget where you are, before you see the all too familiar bleak walls of the hospital and everything comes rushing back to memory.

Isaac was electrocuted, badly, and Stiles is once again missing. It’s been past the forty-eight hours mark.

Allison nods in answer to Scott’s question, as the two of you shift into a more comfortable position. “They won’t let us see him because we’re not family,” you add, frowning up at Scott and Melissa. “I told them he doesn’t have any.”

“Well, he’s got us,” Melissa offers and you let a small smile fall on your lips at her words. “And i’ve got a key card.”

You follow Melissa over to Isaac’s appointed room, waiting rather impatiently for her to swipe the card through the reader and for the door to open. When it finally does, you feel your heart plummet at the sight of Isaac all alone in the middle of the hospital room, still unconscious.

“Be quick,” your mother advises, turning back to look at the three of you.

Nodding absentmindedly, the three of you make your way inside the room, all coming to a stop next to Isaac’s bed. As you make your way inside, you notice Scott and Allison come to a short stop just in front of Isaac and you’re not oblivious to the way Allison reaches out for your brother for comfort. You don’t comment on it, continuing your way over to Isaac’s side and glancing down at the burn marks that scatter across his skin with a deep frown.

“I thought he’d be healing by now.”

“So did I,” Scott mumbles, coming to a stop next to you.

Your eyes lower to Scott’s hand as he sets it over Isaac’s harm. Frowning, you bite your lip; “is he in pain?”

Scott nods, and you meet his eyes, already knowing what he’s about to do. You don’t argue, but you give him an apprehensive look as he tightens his grip around Isaac’s arms and Isaac’s pain begins to flow through Scott’s veins, causing your brother to tense in discomfort.

It causes Isaac to move, his body easing as some of the pain is taken away.

It’s a blessing, you’re aware. But you hate that it’s Scott that has to bear it in return as your brother inhales sharply. Then, letting go, Scott gasps, the pain finally ending as he shifts, trying to recuperate. Placing a hand over your lips, your eyes crinkle in distress as Scott pants; “it won’t heal him, but it helps with the pain.”

Allison paces slightly, her face tensing; “did Stiles really do this?”

Without hesitation, you snap your gaze over to her; “whatever’s controlling him did it. Whatever’s inside him.”

“Well, then how do we get whatever’s inside of him the hell out of him?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Okay, Scott, I came as soon as I could--”

You words fall short as you halt to a rigid stop. Your voice catches the attention of not only the twins and your brother, but Stiles who’s stood directly next to him. And as you meet his eyes, for a moment, you’re relieved, happy -- beyond happy. Just the sight of him makes your heart swell with warmth and adoration, and you’re incredibly believed that he’s okay but then something stops you from moving any closer to him.

You can’t rightly explain it. Words can’t describe the feeling, but something just feels wrong. Off. Not quite right when you meet Stiles’ eyes and it confuses you because all you’ve ever felt when with Stiles is that everything was right. That you where you were suppose to be; by his side.

But it doesn’t feel like that anymore. This person before you doesn’t feel like Stiles. It looks like him but... it isn’t.

Scott must be able to sense your uneasiness. Taking a step forward, he reaches you, glancing briefly over his shoulder at Stiles before meeting your gaze. “It’s okay,” Scott assures, setting his hand on your shoulder with the intent to pull you over to where the rest are stood. “It’s Stiles.”

Stiles takes a step forward, “it’s me, Y/N.”

It sounds like him, but you know it isn’t.

But you can’t describe it, you can’t put it into words. And it frustrates you, because you want to tell Scott that something isn’t right -- that this could be a trick. And yet, when you go to put your frustrations in words, you fall short, confused and baffled because you just aren’t able to explain yourself.

Stiles takes a step towards you, as if to embrace you, and at first you’re hesitant, moving to step back. But Scott and the twins are looking at you, and something tells you if you can’t explain yourself now, then what’s the point of saying anythings wrong at all. You’re just going to have to be careful, keep a close eye on that of Stiles and make sure he doesn’t do anything. Because you know it, without a doubt, that that isn’t Stiles.

So, you relent, stepping forward and plastering a smile on your lips. You want to be relieved, and you knew if that feeling hadn’t washed over you, you would’ve been unable to keep Stiles away from you because you’ve missed him so much and haven’t stopped worrying about him since this all started a few days ago.

But as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his hug is a little too tight, a little too forceful and it fills you with dread.

Then, the two of you are pulling back, and Stiles makes his way back over to his spot. You fall on the other side, taking a spot next to the twins which you know both surprises and catches the attention of everyone there, but you don’t comment it, ducking your head down and turning the attention on the duffel bag placed on the table. “What’s this then?”

“Something Stiles says he was planning when, well, you know...” Scott explains and your gaze flickers upwards, meeting Stiles’ with uncertainty.

The twins reach forward, grabbing the bag and pulling the contents within it out. Your eyes widen at the many tools inside, stuff like rope and duct tape and chains.

“What the hell were you doing?” Aiden questions, “building a Terminator?”

“Thank you for that,” Stiles huffs.

“Guys,” Scott calls, and your eyes fall on him before lowering to the piece of paper in his hands. “This is a map.”

Leaning forward, your eyes narrow; “isn’t that the cross country trail?” You question, tracing the pathway with your finger along the map.

“That’s the Tate car,” Scott reminds, “where Malia Tate’s family died.”

“You mean,” Stiles speaks, his eyes falling shut with distress. “That’s where her father put the steel-jawed traps.”

You remembered that -- how could you not? Your foot had been nearly trapped in one of those traps, and it had been Stiles who saved you. Not the Stiles who stands before you, but your Stiles.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Coach, stop! Everyone stop!”

You listen to Stiles words, stood behind him as you glance around yourself warily. His screaming catches the attention of everyone, including the class that had been running the trail as he holds his hands out before him, his gaze wild and panicked.

Crouching, Stiles light brushes some leaves out of the way, obviously in search of something. Your eyes widen when it picks up a metal chain, it jingling slightly as he continues to pull the length of the chain, more and more being revealed as he continues to follow along with it. Then, it leads to nothing; just the end of it. It really is just a length of metal chain.

You frown when you hear Coach start to clap mockingly; “congratulations, Stilinski.” He shuffles forward, moving so he’s stood in front of you instead of beside you. “You found a length of chain. Can somebody now please tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Hey, coach--!”

Blinking, you flinch at Scott’s sudden bellow, but then, you hear a whizzing sound and an arrow lodges itself in Coach’s chest. Your hands fall to your lips as a gasp leaves them, taking a step back in surprise as everyone seems to fall silent and still. Then, Coach starts to fall backwards; “oh, crap.”

You rush forward, along with a bunch of other people, your eyes wide as you stare down at Coach in concern.

“Get it out of me!”

Your face twists as Coach lets out a ear-piercing scream, Stiles, Scott, you and Aiden the only ones left crouched before him. Stiles’ hands are hovering over the arrow in Coach’s stomach, blood covering his hands.

“Get it out me. Get it out of me,” Coach continues to sputter, his body tensing so it almost becomes completely rigid. “Oh, my God, i’m going to die. Get it out of me! I’m going to die!”

Shaking your head, you grab Coach’s hand; “you’re not going to die,” you call out, “Listen to me, you’re not going to die.”

“I’m going to die!”

“Coach,” Stiles calls, pulling your eyes on him as he turns to look at Coach. “You are not going to die.”

“It will hurt less if you stop moving, Coach,” Aiden advises, trying to keep him still.

“Get that thing out of me!”

“Coach, stop! An ambulance is coming!”

Your eyes, despite the chaos that goes on around you, fall on Stiles, watching him carefully. He meets your brother’s gaze briefly, before his eyes flicker to your own. That feeling wells up inside of you again, and you narrow your eyes at him, face tense.

“Get it out! I’m going to die!”

“Get back!” You hear Aiden bellow, reluctantly pulling your eyes off of Stiles and onto the crowd Aiden gestures to. “Get back! Give him some room! Get back!” Ethan helps his brother push the class back and out of the way, until it’s just the four of you and Coach.

You frown when you see Scott take Coach’s hand into his own, from yours, and the veins began to pop up through his skin, flooding with black.

“Scott,” you whisper to him, so as not to have Coach hear and maybe even Stiles. “You already took Isaac’s pain this morning,” you remind, unable to hide the concern within you. “Isn’t it too much?”

“It’s okay,” Scott whispers back, dismissing your concern. “I’m fine.”

You shake your head, swallowing thickly.

“I think he just passed out,” Aiden breathes, causing your eyes to fall back on Coach. Indeed, he did just pass out.

Your attention is then pulled on Stiles as you see him pull his hands back from Coach’s stomach, his breath shaky as his eyes begin water. You hate the sight of it, because you don’t like seeing that look of guilt and terror that floods Stiles’ eyes as he stares down at his blood hates. But the feeling that something is wrong won’t leave you, not matter how hard you try.

“I could have killed him, right?” Stiles gasps, turning to Scott. “What if it was his head or his throat?”

“But it wasn’t,” Scott assures, still out of breath from taking Coach’s pain. “And he’s going to be all right.”

“I think I just heard an ambulance coming,” Aiden calls.

Your head turns over your shoulder, in the direction of the ambulance, and you frown when you catch sight of Noah.

“And my dad.”

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the police car, keeping your eyes trained on Stiles from afar. He’s talking to his dad, and while you can’t hear what they’re saying to one another, you figure it has something to do with him being missing for a whole of two days. A frown grows on your lips as the two embrace, and you see the relieved look on Noah’s face.

Your leg bounces beneath you in thought. That feeling won’t go away and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. You need to tell someone, preferably Scott, but if you can’t even understand the feeling and apprehension yourself, how are you able to expect Scott to?

But still, you just know it -- that that isn’t Stiles.

“Scott! Y/N! You need to look at this!”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of Aiden’s voice. Turning your head over your shoulder, you find him stood behind Stiles’ jeep. Making your way over to him, you fall by Scott’s side as your eyes fall on the duffel bag in Aiden’s hands.

Brows furrowing, you begin to search through it, noticing Scott pull out wrapping paper from the bag out of the corner of your eye. “This is the same wrapping paper we used for Coach’s birthday present,” Scott informs, staring down at it in concern.

“Wasn’t that William Barrow’s thing?” Aiden questions, “a bomb made from nails and bolts all wrapped in a birthday present?”

Shaking your head, you turn to Scott; “where’d it go off?”

“...On a school bus.”

Your brows furrow, hands clenching tightly together as Officer Parrish makes his way to the front of the bus, pressing Noah’s name tag that belongs on his desk to the window. The bomb on the bus wasn’t actually a bomb, and instead, Parrish found that inside.

But what does it mean?

Eyes widening, you turn to Scott and Stiles; “the sheriff station,” you whisper.

“What?”

“The sheriff station. That’s where the bomb is.”

“Can you do something?”

You frown at Stiles words, crouched before the officer with crinkled eyes. It was obvious how in pain the man was, but...

“Take his pain?” Stiles continues, his voice desperate. “Anything to make it easier?”

You shake your head; “he’s already taken enough people’s pain today,” you remind, your voice pitched in worry. You glance briefly at Stiles, before turning back to Scott, shuffling closer to him. “Scott, please--”

“It’s okay,” Scott gently cuts you off, meeting your eyes as he nods reassuringly. “I can do it.”

“But--”

Scott doesn’t listen. Taking the officers hand in his own, you frown heavily at the sight of Scott’s hands once again covered in veins and his face twist in discomfort and pain.

The officer raises his head, staring at Scott in disbelief before his eyes roll to the back of his head and his body falls limp. Scott gasps loudly in response, letting go of the man’s hands almost instantly as he stares down at him in bewilderment.

“Scott,” you call, your hands shaking as you reach out for him. “Scott, are you okay?”

“I--”

“Go!” He’s interrupted by Noah, turning to the three of you and pulling your eyes on his as he gestures for you three to leave. “Leave, now!” It’s clear he doesn’t want you to be in this sort of environment anymore, and after what you’ve just seen you don’t blame nor disagree with him.

Shaking your head, you pull Scott up to his feet who reaches out for Stiles in return. Pulling the two out, you stumble back, still in disbelief at what you’d just witnessed. But, before you make it far, Kira suddenly stumbles in front of you.

“The Oni,” she breathes, “they’re coming.”

“Stiles, we gotta get you out of here,” Scott calls, pulling on Stiles’ arm.

There it is. That feeling.

You stop, staring back at the police officer in disbelief as you friends hastily shuffle out of the room. You can’t ignore it -- there has to be some sort of explanation for the way you feel. And you’re determined to find out.

“Y/N!”

Blinking, you turn your head back to Scott, meeting his eyes. The three of them are staring back at you in confusion, beckoning you over. “We gotta go! We’re going to Deaton’s! It’s the safest place for Stiles.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“What?”

Meeting Stiles’ eyes, you swallow thickly; “there’s something I have to do.”

Your hand shake with urgency, never once slowing down as you flip through every page, your eyes skimming over the words in search of something specific.

You rushed home, instantly running up to your bedroom and pulling out every single book you had on witches and your powers, and hadn’t stopped searching since you had. There had to be something -- something that could explain what this feeling was and what it meant.

Then, you found it.

“Witches can sense other beings of power. It starts as a feeling of unease, and it slowly progresses to be more as they spend more time with that entity. Witches can sense both evil and good, but it is strong powers of evil; of strife and chaos that causes the most unease. It is not a feeling one should ignore, and rather, use as a force for good. A witches instinct should never be ignored.”

Your eyes widen as you read the words printed before you, your hand shakily letting go of the book as you straighten out. You should’ve said something. Should’ve done something.

You’d left your brother and Kira with a possessed Stiles -- someone with the intent to hurt your friends.

You were right. Stiles wasn’t Stiles. He was the nogitsune.

The sharp pain in your side is what causes you to run. You’re out of breath, your body screaming at you to just slow down, take a moment to think, but you don’t. You won’t.

Scott’s hurt, and however he is, it’s bad. Beyond bad if the radiating pain in your left side is anything to go by. You shouldn’t have left him with Stiles, or... that thing that was possessing Stiles. It was a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake and now your brother was paying for it.

Yanking open the door to the vet, your eyes widen at the sight before you.

“Know why? Cause they’ll fool you. They’ll fool everyone.”

“Not everyone.”

Stiles pauses, slowly letting go of the handle of the Oni sword lodge in your brother’s stomach to turn and face you. You square your shoulders as you meet his gaze, your eyes glinting in preparation for what may come as a smirk falls on Stiles, or... the possessed Stiles’ lips stood before you. You keep yourself rooted by the door, despite how badly you want to run over to Scott and help him as he turns to you with panicked eyes, as Stiles takes slow, calculated steps your way.

The evil glint in Stiles’ gaze is obvious; painstakingly obvious. You curse yourself mentally for not realizing it, for ignoring it. And it seems Stiles is all too aware of the turmoil bubbling up inside of you as he lets out a mocking laugh at your misfortune. “You should’ve trusted your instincts, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly at the sound of Stiles’ voice. This... nogitsune was evil, pure evil, and by choosing Stiles’ body as it’s host, it instantly gave you a weakness. Because even though Stiles, in some ways, had just hurt both Kira and Scott, you can’t help the way you feel about him when you meet his gaze. Can’t help the way your heart flutters at the sight of him and your body screams at you to just go over and hug him because God you just want Stiles back.

Squaring your shoulders, you feign confidence. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

Stiles raises a brow, continuing to make his way over to you. He doesn’t stop until he’s directly before you and your back is pressed against the wall beneath you, trying to create as much as a distance from him as possible.

When Stiles takes another step forward, you raise your hand, as if threatening to use your powers on him.

“You won’t,” Stiles says with ease.

“What makes you think I won’t?”

Taking a step forward, Stiles takes your wrist in his own hand, closing the distance between you. You hear Scott rasp out your name, obviously concerned for you, but with the sword still in his stomach, he isn’t healing and there isn’t much he can do.

“Because,” Stiles whispers, lowering is voice so only you can hear. Your body tenses, turning rigid, as Stiles places his mouth directly next to your ear, unbelievably close. “I’m Stiles.”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that this nogitsune is completely aware of your feelings for Stiles and the effect he has over you.

“And you won’t hurt Stiles. No matter the reason.”

“But I might.”

You blink, both yours and Stiles head snapping to the left upon the arrival of Deaton. Without hesitation, Deaton raises his hand, stabbing the needle he holds into Stiles’ neck and injecting whatever’s inside. Stiles grunts in response, his breath laboured before Deaton steps back, and you flinch at the thud that echoes as Stiles’ body hits the floor. You stare down at his body, body tense.

Instantly, you rush over to Scott, setting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. He turns to you, eyes wide; “how... how’d you know?”

Shaking your head, you frown; “instinct.”

The both of you turn as Deaton falls next to you, his hand falling on the handle of the sword in Scott’s stomach. Instantly, Scott takes your hand in his own, squeezing it tightly as he braces himself. You ignore your own pain that floods through you in response to Scott’s as Deaton yanks the sword out of Scott with one quick pull. You’re there to help Scott, despite the cry that leaves your lips, holding him steady on his feet.

“What was that?” Scott questions Deaton the moment he’s collected him.

Turning to Deaton, you can’t help but add; “was that cure? Is he okay?”

“The fox is poisoned,” Deaton explains, “but it’s not dead. Not yet.”

You hop off of Scott’s motorcycle without a second of hesitance, Scott quick to follow behind you.

As you come to a stop before Stiles and his dad, you can’t help the desperation and panic in your eyes as you meet Stiles’. Scott falls next to you, shaking his head; “why didn’t you tell me?”

“Or me?” You add, never taking your eyes off of Stiles.

“Because,” Noah answers for Stiles, “we wanted to avoid something like this.”

“It’s only seventy-two hours,” Stiles informs, shaking his head in a bleak attempt at reassurance.

“This is the same place where Barrow came from,” Scott reminds, and your eyes flutter over to the gate before you. You read the sigh, ‘Eichen House’, and once again, that bad feeling floods you, but for an entirely different reason. “The guy who had a tumor inside him filled with flies.”

Taking a step forward, you can’t help but add; “you don’t know everything yet.”

“I know enough,” Noah argues softly. “Nogitsunes, Kitsunes, Oni, or whatever they’re called.”

“Wow, that was actually all surprisingly correct.”

“Guys,” Noah continues, his gaze flickering between you and Scott. “I saw an MRI that looked exactly like my wife’s. And it terrifies me. I’m headed down to L.A. tomorrow to talk to a specialist.”

“Then why are you putting him in here?”

“He’s not,” Stiles cuts in, pulling your eyes on him. “It was my decision.”

“Stiles,” Scott calls, “I can’t help you if you’re in here.”

“And I can’t hurt you,” Stiles reminds, his voice lowering to display the distress he feels. You frown when his eyes fall on you, inhaling sharply. “Or you...”

Lowering your gaze to your feet, you sigh as Scott continues to argue in hopes of convincing Stiles otherwise. “Deaton’s got some ideas. Argent’s calling people. We’re gonna find something. And if we can’t...--”

“If you can’t...” Stiles words trail, and then he takes a step towards your brother, lowering his voice. “If you can’t, then you have to do something for me, okay? Make sure I never get out.”

You hate the words he speaks.

Taking a step back, Stiles turns to his father who nods; “come on.”

They turn to leave, but before Stiles can, you take a step forward, wrapping your arms tightly around Stiles’ shoulders. It surprises him at first, along with Scott and Noah who gaze down at you with frowns on their lips. You ignore their gazes, squeezing Stiles closer to yourself as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Then, a moment later, Stiles’ arms around bounding around your waist, returning your embrace with just as much urgency.

The book told you not to ignore your instincts, and yet, here you were doing so again. You were about to let Stiles walk into this place knowing, deep down, that it wouldn’t end well.

“It’ll be okay,” you whisper, so only he can hear. You believe your words to be a lie, but for once; you want to be the one reassuring Stiles. Want to be the one that’s strong for him. “I promise.”

Stiles blinks at the familiar words as you pull back, turning hastily to hide the tears that threaten to fall. You make your over to Scott’s bike, ignoring Stiles’ gaze on your back before finally, just at the last moment it seems, you turn back in the direction Stiles and the rest, watching Stiles and Noah head through the gate, it falling shut behind them.

“My father said all of the Katashi evidence is being moved to a federal lockup by armored car tonight. Probably within the next few hours.”

Stood next to Lydia, you raise a brow as you watch Scott and the twins make their way over to the two of you, Allison leading them. Once Allison is next to you and Lydia, you can tell by the looks on the twins and Scott’s face they’re more then surprised -- they’re in disbelief.

“We’re going to rob an armored car?”

“Well, we’re going to try.”

“This is a really bad plan.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not that good.”

Shaking your head, you inhale sharply. “None of us knows the route they’re going to take,” you remind, scratching at your forehead absentmindedly. “If Allison can get one of her dad’s GPS trackers on the armored car, then we can follow it.”

“So,” Allison speaks up, following your train of thought as she presses her finger against a marked spot on the map. “When it gets here...”

“We attack them?” Aiden offers.

Inhaling sharply, Lydia spins to face him; “no,” she sighs, “your bikes will be in the middle of the road, looking like you guys got into an accident. And when the driver gets out to help...”

“We attack him?” Aiden says again.

Huffing, you call out with both Lydia and Allison; “no.”

“You’ll distract him,” you finish, shaking your head over at the boy. “And Scott will break open the back door.”

Pausing, Scott shifts slightly; “I hope.”

“And you’ll get Katashi’s finger,” Lydia reminds Ethan.

“It’s not his actual finger, is it?”

Face tensing with alarm, Lydia sighs; “we are so out of our league.”

“Why aren’t we just going to Stilinski for help?” Ethan questions, turning to Scott with a raised brow.

“Because,” Scott begins, “if he gets caught, then it’s the Sheriff tampering with federal evidence.”

“Guys, this is going to work,” Allison says, nodding her head reassuringly. “We can do this. We’re losing Stiles.” You falter at her words, your shoulders tensing slightly. “My dad is in jail for murder...”

Silence echoes as Allison sighs; “we need to do this.”

The sense that something was wrong was what made you move. You barely explained anything to Lydia as you suddenly grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her along with you.

But when you’d felt a pain thump in your head, you knew that that meant Scott was in danger. In some ways, your connection was a pleasing -- it meant, without even having to say anything, you were able to tell when Scott was hurt or in danger. And you didn’t hesitate a second rushing to help him.

When you finally arrived, you saw Allison and Kira both on their backs, and Scott crouched on the ground as the twins jumped down to attack some big dude that had been hovering over your brother a moment ago. As Lydia rushes over to Allison, making sure she’s okay, you make your way over to Scott, grabbing him by the shoulders to help him onto his feet.

“You good?” You questions, moving your head to meet Scott by the eyes.

He glances briefly at the twins before nodding over at you. “Yeah,” he groans, rolling back his shoulders slightly. “I’m fine.”

When the man that Ethan and Aiden were attacking rolled onto his back in front of you and your brother, your eyes widen at the twins as they refuse to relent, taking fast and long strides over to the man, as if to do more damage. Scott is quick to pull himself away from you, rushing over to the twins; “Ethan, Aiden--.”

Lydia rushes forward, a shrill plea to stop leaving her lips that seems to catch the attention of the twins, at least Aiden.

“You want him to come after us?” He asks, staring down at the man threateningly.

“Scott,” Ethan calls, “we’ve seen guys like this. Trust us. He’s dangerous.”

“So are we,” Scott breathes, shaking his head. “And he looks smart enough to remember that.” Your brother takes a step forward, pulling what you assume to be Katashi’s finger out of his front pocket of his leather jacket. He taps it against the palm of his hand, a mini scroll falling out. “We’re here to save a life. Not end one.”

“There isn’t much here, unfortunately.”

You pause at Deaton’s words, feeling dread it hit you.

“Does it say anything?”

Raising his head, Deaton tilts his head slightly as he gazes back at you and your brother. “My Japanese isn’t great,” he comments, trying to lighten the mood, even if only slightly. “But it appears to say that one method of expelling a nogitsune is to change the body of the host.”

“Change the body?” You mumble, your brows furrowing.

“Which begs the question,” Deaton continues, “how do we change Stiles’ body?”

For a moment, your mind goes blank. But then you realize the answer is quite literally standing next to you and you feel your eyes widen.

“By turning him into a werewolf.”

Part 23?

Let me know what you think?

This chapter is bit shorter than usual, I know. And the next will probably be the same given that there’s that entire episode dedicated to the nogitsune’s and Kira’s mother’s backstory. But, I still hope you all enjoyed nonetheless.

Tag List: @potterheadbbc - @sunsetblake - @mythicalamphitrite - @loverofwaytoomanythings618 - @minuteandahalf - @mnk - @gazebros - @colie87 - @quilliamfears - @quellum - @pessimisticbullshite - @desired-love- @kaylinfayezink - @maiabiovillage - @tr1chst3r - @arkcangel - @quirkytwinkles - @thegirlwhoimagined - @noones-girl1980 - @illumminated - @fairchild345 - @all-will-be-well-love - @animemes-trash - @starryrevelations - @literallyhelpme - @theskytraveler - @jinandton1c - @ilovemymoose-blog @bibliophilesquared - @stilessarcasmqueen - @mersuperwholocked-lowlife - @newtsshelbys - @pancakefancake - @saturno-in-the-night - @pizzamelon7384 - @riskregretting - @mdgrdians - @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia - @franchisefan14 - @lovingpeterparker - @audreysduvxl - @kararanae23 - @alioop3818 - @a-gir1-has-n0-name - @andyl394 - @sclestial - @jayymocha - @2ptonpt - @itsfangirlmendes - @deafeningmusicdetective - @alex–awesome–22 - @nicholerodz - @kellbell44 - @serrahruby - @agentmarvel13 - @egg-in-a-spork - @nickigv - @vxidnik - @marvelousgab - @emmaleighrose - @danielag1969 - @digicharr - @shantayok - @cherry3bombshell - @thatprofessionalfangirl - @itsjaynebird - @grippleback-galaxy - @dafukbish - @randomfanfictiontime - @unicorn-sparkles123 - @sammyrenae68 - @myfanficlibrarium - @liveforthenight130318 - @booknymph02 - @smileyouresopretty - @fionnthebandersnacc - @voidsarahh - @kal-pal

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malereader-inserts · 6 years ago

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Tell Me That You Love Me

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Male!Reader Summary: Sometimes, you know everything is going to be where you left it - especially if it’s your soulmate Word Count: 1548 Request: Can I request a Kol Mikaelson imagine? With a lot of fluff and morning cuddling and kisses? A/n: Sorry I changed the request. The timeline of the vampire diaries and the original is kinda all over the place that I’m pretty sure I just did my own timeline. Inspired by the song “Tell Me That You Love Me” By James Smith.

Kol wasn’t much of an emotional guy, he tends to keep to himself but there was something about you. The most beautiful part is, Kol wasn’t even looking when he found you. You were that pretty boy of Mystic Falls, the one with dazzling eyes and a beaming smile. That happy boy who always had the aura of yellow, laughter that could make anyone smile.

Kol had fallen smitten with you, your childish jokes and your carefree personality. Oh, how much he cared for you. He didn’t care that you were human, he didn’t care about murdering anyone because he’s got what he needed. Kol never knew how great it felt to truly be wanted and desired until you came along.

It was hard to capture you in his charming ways, he was willing to do anything for you. You wouldn’t allow his advances until you saw a shift of obsession to genuine care and love. Soon enough, you found yourself going to the funfair with him. Him trying to impress you by trying to win the toys, no vampire powers to help him.

“Those are rigged,” Kol would complain.

“Sure,” You chuckled as you hand him the teddy that you won, Kol rolled his eyes as he pouts.

One date became another date, late night road trips and him trying to stay up all night to find the best place to stargaze. Then another date and so on. Kol felt human when he was with you, he’s never felt like that with anyone and he liked it.

Cause with you Kol would withstand all of hell just to hold your hand.

Your relationship became stronger, he was over the moon when you accepted being his boyfriend. He never made you feel any less than who you are, he didn’t want to spoil you rotten but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He did everything in his power to keep you safe, to protect you, fighting against his family when they even suggest putting a harm hand on you.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Kol, what happened?” Rebekah asked her arms over her chest with Elijah and Klaus by her side.

“(Y/n) happened, and he is the best thing to happen to me, can’t you just accept him?” Kol begged, “I’ve stopped my foolish ways, I’ve matured, I’ve grown, but by my head do not take him away from me.”

Elijah and Rebekah immediately soften as Kol begged. Kol never begged, he got people to beg but never he. One look at him, they found a hopeless lover. Murderous eyes rest as tired eyes yet they were full of love, not lust like it used to.

Klaus sighs, his chest heaving up and down. A small smile on his lips as Kol stare at him.

“You found him?” Klaus questions, “You truly believe he’s your soulmate as you would call them.”

“Well, yes,” Kol looked taken aback, “There’s something about him because every time I see them my heart is so much louder than my head.”

“Then, he is family and anyone will be damned if he is damaged.”

Klaus enjoyed seeing his little brother being tamed, yes he had his old ways when the family was involved but Klaus found it refreshing to see them in love.

Being in love isn’t just beautiful. It’s raw. It peels back the layers of your soul like thin paper. It wears you down to the bone. It breathes a different air into your weary lungs and calls you to live in a way that you never did before.

Kol loved every waking moment with you. How you two would lie awake in the morning, legs tangled within each other as there are mornings with his head on your chest or yours on his. Those were the morning, you would refuse to get up from the bed, block out the vicious enemies, block out the drama. It was just you and him.

Kol longed those moments how you would talk about everything at night, emotions bouncing off the walls as you confide in each other.

“I love you.”

Your voice was hushed, staring at your boyfriend of a year, Kol’s smile widen, yet after a year he still got those butterflies in him, he still felt his heart race and getting louder than his head.

“I love you too.”

Kol was never an emotional guy, he hated being affectionate, but he didn’t mind it when it came to you. How he was stand in the bathroom with a bare chest as he brushes his teeth, staring at his reflection. He remembers how your arms around wrap around him as you rest your chin on his shoulder.

The vampire would turn to look at you, toothpaste froth spilling from his smile as you two grin at each other. He remembers how you would scrunch up your nose before pecking his cheek lightly.

“Good Morning, love,” He murmurs, his mouthful but you could hear his adoration for you.

“Good Morning, Beau,” You tilt your head, staring at yourself in the mirror, “We’re cute.”

“Exceptionally cute,” Kol commented, spitting his toothpaste away to the sink and wiping around his lips.

Yet, his nightmare was coming true. As much as he wanted to keep you safe by his side, he couldn’t. How much it killed him inside, being apart from your soulmate hurts because you weren't supposed to be anywhere but beside them. Even if it was a brief break up, he was hurt in the inside. He would miss reassuring hugs, fiery kisses and longing look.

“Don’t forget me,” Kol pleaded, his forehead against yours - standing at the airport doors, “Don’t forget me, please.”

“I would never forget my love, my soul,” You promised, you promised to yourself you would never cry for him.

Your right hand interlocked with his, perhaps it lingered longer. How every walking step, both your heart broke. You didn’t know how long this separation was going to be, you dread the years to come. You had everything planned as well, to become officially a Mikaelson through marriage and a bite.

“Until again, my love.”

Kol never found someone else, every girl and guy that came to him didn’t have your flame, your happiness. The boy with the yellow aura. He waited, fought and fought with anger. How dare they separate you? When Kol had died, how many times this time, Klaus was determined to get Kol back.

“I promised (Y/n),” Klaus shouted at his brother, “I promised him I’d bring back Kol, safe and sound.”

So, when Kol had returned from the dead, he hadn’t expected to find himself back in New Orleans. His memory was cloudy, but he remembered everything about you. He certainly found himself in the search of you, but never expect you to be so close.

How his eyes light up at the realisation that you were across the bar, bourbon in hand - his favourite so you drink it in his honour - as you laugh with new friends you made upon your arrival at New Orleans a few months back.

And just like that, he felt like he was meeting you for the first time. He felt butterflies attacking his inside and my god his heart was so much louder than his head. He runs his hand through his hair, in attempts to calm himself.

“Come on, Kol, it’s just (Y/n).”

But, that was the problem. It was you, the man he waited for. He could feel your warm energy and he could sense your yellow aura. For the loud music, he could hear you laughing. You must have felt him staring as you turn to look at him. Your smile drop for a moment, blinking before a smile turned into a grin. You excused yourself as you weave through people to reach Kol.

“(Y/n),” His voice was soft, “Tell me that you love me, the way you used to love me.”

Your eyes were amused as your hand placed itself against his neck, pulling him closer to you, whispering in his ear, “I love you.”

Kol found himself doubting himself, “You know you didn’t have to answer that to make me feel better-”

“I know,” You hummed softly, “But, then I would be lying to myself. You’re the one, Kol, nothing has changed in the last five months.”

“So, asking you to come home and pretend everything is alright?”

“I’m ready for us.”

Kol and you make eye contact, in that brief moment with music blaring and drunken humans dancing around you with lights flashing both of you experience your whole relationship again. Reliving all Kol’s spontaneous date ideas compared to your rational ideas. Remembering what it’s like to scrub each other in the shower, or what the quickest way to calm each other.

You both saw fights, love, lust all wrapped in one. You wouldn’t change him or the relationship for anything. In all Kol’s years, he has never felt a love as strong as this.

“There is nothing more I’d like than to spend the rest of my life with you, my love.” Kol grinned at you, you chuckled, the flame inside of you both dancing to the beat of your hearts.

After all, soulmates always end up together.

#Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x male!reader #x male reader #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #personal favourite

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clairebeauchampfan · 5 years ago

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Tripe. Bollocks. Absolute tosh. Deliberate distortions? Anyway, how would they know? Many ES claimed they only watched the first three episodes, then gave up because there wasn’t enough sex..(I mean, intimacy). did these people watch the whole series? Were they paying attention to what was actually going on?

gaelic-fullmoon-lady

Only at the start…😩 Season 4 she’s soap-opera-equipment

accardi1921

Yeah,where did this character go she's talking about? Not badass in S4 & doesn't always have to be but S4 Claire was Just so unhappy looking.

mylessanchez

Session 4 she’s an after thought. She had nothing in season 4. She entertained his admirers and rubbed his shoulders. Had to have irked Cait to no end

Etcetera etcetera (and ‘liked’ by people who should know better) . What a load of absolute cobblers. So here we go, Claire apparently had NOTHING to do in Season 4. Perhaps they’ve forgotten. Most likely they just blindly followed the reviews of people who were absolutley determined to be negative about the Season, about Outlander and about Caitriona Balfe, as they have been since 1st January 2018. I wonder why?

Episode 1 Claire rescues Bonnett from hanging. Badass Claire Claire sets off with her husband into a new land where they have only one relative, aunt Jocasta Claire loses her wedding ring; has presence of mind to swallow one. Badass Claire.

Episode 2 Claire encourages Jamie to reject Aunt Jocasta’s inheritance; a life of ease and luxury, because she can’t own slaves. She faces down the lynch mob; patches up Rufus, then has the courage to give him a poison to spare him from a lynching, thus breaking her hypocratic oath - first, do no harm. Badass Claire much.

Episode 3 Claire sets of with her husband into the wilderness. She can ride a horse, confront ghosts, load and fire an eighteenth century rifle. Claire is badass Claire

Episode 4 Dr Claire fixes up Myers and , husband wounded after confrontation with the man bear: makes friends with wise woman from potentially hostile indigenous people, the Cherokee. Does Claire run screaming back to civilisation? No, Claire is badass Claire.

Episode 5. Dr Claire brings baby into world. No epidurals, no midwife....Dr Claire is badass doctor. Dr Claire stops Mueller from starting war with cherokees by interposing herself between them. Badass Claire. ‘Vulture’ recap: “Claire gathers her gun, Rollo, and some decent beef jerky, and hunkers down in the cabin. She’s terrified, but in a very badass way. Mueller finally arrives, but not to kill Claire — he wants to make sure she’s okay. He also wants to give her a gift. In a horrifying reveal, Claire opens the package to find Adawehi’s scalp. I’m sorry, but the fact that Claire hasn’t had some type of breakdown yet after suffering through an unreal amount of atrocities just seems ridiculous at this point. But she soldiers on. She throws Mueller out, gives Adawehi a proper (as proper as she can) send off, and still, the carnage continues”

Episode 6 Dr Claire saves Lord Johyn from the measles, survives having her husband’s would-be gay lover and Jamie’s by-blow son drop in on them, exchanges some brutal truths with Lord John. Badass Claire

Episode 7 Yeah, okay, Claire wasn’t in THIS ONE frigging episode. Oh My God! Her badass daughter is instead.

Episode 8. Dr Claire works with her husband to save Murtagh from arrest, performs operation on local corrupt official . As Vulture says:

“There is chaos! There is commotion! Claire says he needs surgery immediately or he will die! Even in the midst of this, men are like, “But you have a vagina, how can you wield a scalpel!?” Honestly, Claire should just let Fanning suffer, but she’s a professional, so she orders everyone INTO THE LOBBY to get set up for emergency surgery. Meanwhile, she gets the low-down from Jamie, who needs her to distract Tryon as he runs off to warn Murtagh of the trap; Tryon can’t know Jamie’s gone.

Jamie uses George and Martha Washington as a sort of Colonial Lyft to get to Fergus and Marsali’s (they had a boy, BTW), and has Fergus find Murtagh while Jamie tries to slip back into the theater unnoticed. Don’t worry guys, it all works out! Although, it’s a little unsettling that Tryon knows exactly who Murtagh is. Keep an eye on our guy, Jamie!

And sure, saving Murtagh is exciting and all, but the most exhilarating part of the entire excursion to the theater is Claire, back in her element, crushing some impromptu surgery. Before you know it, she’s three knuckles deep in that dude’s abdomen and not even breaking a sweat. Governor Tryon is impressed, Fanning’s dummy doctors are impressed, we’re all impressed. You also must remember that while Claire is successfully performing surgery under less-than-desirable circumstances, she is also successfully saving her husband’s ass by distracting Tryon. She manages both tense tasks with a cool composure. Never forget that Claire’s the true hero of this show. If only the entire episode had just been Claire, Jamie, and George Washington”

Episode 9. The reunion. Claire is bowle4 over by her badass daughter travliing back through time to warn her mom about the fire. Claire , badass Claire, says nonchalently: we’ll just go have a holiday every year on that day.

Vulture recap again:

“Brianna is pregnant and Claire figures it out. After a hilarious fight about why Brianna didn’t pack condoms for her trip to the 1700s (moms are moms no matter the century), Bree confesses that it might not be Roger’s baby, and the truth (without naming Bonnet) comes spilling out. This is definitely Sam Heughan’s episode, but can we give it up for how incredible Caitriona Balfe is in this scene as Claire processes a whole slew of emotions at once? “

Episode 10 No much badassery, to be sure . Here’s Vulutre again to remind us:

“As important as that Jamie-Bree conversation is, and as nice as their shared moment commenting on how at peace Claire seems in the wilderness is, the parent-child moments in this episode that moved me the most belonged to Claire and Bree. The ladies talking about what they missed back in their time — cheeseburgers, Led Zeppelin, and toilets that flush, to name a few things — was a rare lighter scene on Outlander, and brought me so much joy! Claire compassionately and tactfully discussing abortion as an option for Bree was a great reminder of both how Claire is a woman ahead of her time literally and figuratively and of the strength of this mother-daughter relationship. It’s all pretty great.

and Badass Claire takes the side of her daughter against the man she loves, like a real mom! And rides into the wilderness to find and rescue roger from that seriously badass tribe, the Mohawk, just a 700 mile ride away in upper NY state. Badass?

Episode 11 Vulture again; my memory’s not what it was

Regardless of their scant airtime (in this episode) , Jamie and Claire get the best scene of the episode — maybe the best of the season.Things between Claire and Jamie are still very icy since separating from Bree, and no amount of ignoring it to focus on Claire’s fabulous headband will change that. Even Ian is begging Mom and Dad to make up. Finally, Claire gets to a point where she just can’t watch Jamie in so much pain over what he’s done to Brianna.She (Claire) he goes to him in his tent one night and explains that she’s not mad at him — she’s mad at the world. She explains that after Frank died, she and Brianna shared secrets and they belonged to them — so she’s sorry she didn’t tell Jamie about Bonnet as soon as she found out, and she blames herself for this entire mess. She explains that their marriage is different now because they’re parents. Listen, you guys, two people talking about the difficulties of balancing being a parent with being in a marriage is typically a snoozefest, but Balfe and Heughan are just so freaking good together (what’s new, I know) and imbue such vulnerability and honesty in this moment (I’m still sobbing over Jamie admitting that he’s worried both Bree and Claire think Frank was the better man), that I’ll be thinking about this scene for days. Sure, after Claire assures Jamie that Bree didn’t mean what she said and knows that Jamie for sure didn’t mean what he said and they both say “I’m sorry” and they both wipe away tears from their gorgeous faces, they have sex in that tent

Episode 12 OMG this episode didn’t feature Claire. Shock, horror

Episode 13 Badass Claire and her husband try to rescue Roger from the Mohawks. it all goes wrong. There’s a fight. Badass Claire is wearing the stone from the future! How badass do you have to be as a woman to go, outnumbered, under armed, into the wilderness, to rescue your daughter’s husband from a people whose track record is um.er...(how can one put this in non-judgemental terms?)..to use extreme methods when putting people to death.

So there you have it: ‘not badass’ in Season 4? In Season 4 as an afterthought? Soap opera equipment ? She had ‘nothing’ in Season 4? I’ve gone on about how Cait-Haters have misused pictures of Claire holding her arms (which she does in EVERY season) as proof she is unhappy. Well, lots of unhappy things happen in Season 4, to Claire, to her friends, to her daughter. It would have been odd if she’s looked happy the whole time, wouldn’t it. I know I’d have been terrified, most of the time, in her position. Here’s some pix of Claire looking sad in Season 4.

#Badass Dr. Claire Beauchamp

#samcait samxcait samandcait outlander season4

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

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Pieces of April [8/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila

Author’s Note: Exactly what it says on the can. I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for a while, getting in the way of finishing the next chapter of Philtatos and I figured if I started jotting down the basics of it, I could stop thinking about it.

________________________________________________________________

Tim drives to one of Jason’s safehouses in the Bowery, about halfway between his apartment and the bar where he found Jason earlier. The place is a rundown, fire-damaged building with boarded-up windows and a sign out front advertising cheap studios.

“Do you need any help?” he asks as Jason gets out of the car.

“Just how much stuff do you think I need?” is the irate response before Jason vanishes into the dilapidated lobby.

Tim scowls at his back.

Someone remind me why I’m helping this jerk again?

The memory of the very tiny human still in the nursery at Gotham General makes his facial muscles relax.

Right.

Given the circumstances, Tim supposes he can overlook Jason’s inconsistent moods. He needs someone to lash out at right now while processing, and it’s not like Tim isn’t used to it. Better him than the criminals of Gotham; Jason’s pretty good these days about not using lethal force, but he might not care so much if he goes out without his head on straight.

Speaking of going out…

Tim surprised when Jason actually returns to the car ten minutes later instead of just vanishing. As he indicated earlier, he doesn’t have very much with him, just a worn duffel bag that he tosses in the backseat of Tim’s Porsche before having himself back into the passenger seat.

“Hope there aren’t any severed heads in there,” Tim remarks lightly as pulls away from the building. “I just had the seats redone.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “A guy makes one grand statement and they never let him forget it.”

“You don’t want people to forget it.”

“True,” he agrees with a sharp grin that is anything but humorous.

It’s a short journey back to Tim’s place, but he still drives around the block to use the secret entrance to his base of operations.

“What, I’m not good enough for your front door?”

“Be my guest. Say hi to Vicki Vale when you do, she’s usually lurking nearby.” When Jason shoots him a sharp, questioning look he elaborates, “An occupational hazard of being the face of WE is having paparazzi camped out around my place every now and then. I figure you don’t want your face showing up on the front of the Gotham Gazette.”

“Yeah, that might have been worth mentioning when you offered your guestroom.”

“Guess it’s a good thing like all responsible Bats, I have an underground secret hideout.”

He pulls into the back alley and flips the switch that activates the hidden ramp; the ground falls away and leads down toward the carpark. Tim won’t lie, he enjoys the way Jason’s eyebrows go higher the further in they get. The rest of the Family doesn’t come here—even during citywide emergencies, the agreed-upon convergence point tends to be the original Batcave—so Tim doesn’t have a lot of opportunities to show off.

And maybe showing off to his former childhood idol is something that doesn’t go away, no matter how many years or murder attempts.

That subbasement is nowhere near as large as any of the Caves, but there are two other cars and a half-dozen motorcycles in various states of modification parked in a circle. Tim eases into the only empty space and cuts the engine.

“Welcome to the Nest,” he says as he gets out of the car. “It goes three floors up not including this level. Outside it looks like just another apartment building behind my place, so no one would expect an actual secure installation inside.” He gestures as he speaks. “Ground floor’s got my crime lab and containment units, the second floor’s all training stuff, and the third’s the communication’s hub. There’s even aerial access, but I haven’t had to use it yet.”

Jason shakes his head. “Must be nice to be Dad’s favorite.”

“I wouldn’t know, you’d have to ask Dick.”

“Is that a popcorn machine?”

“No self-respecting hero’s lair should be without one,” Tim quips. “Come on, the living area’s this way.

They head up the stairs to the main level, and Tim doesn’t miss the appreciative glances Jason casts his tech and gear. He opens his mouth to offer to hook Jason up—extend the olive branch, so to speak—but stops himself; he doesn’t know if, after this whole baby adventure is over, Jason’s even going to want to stay in Gotham.

He slides open the hidden door, revealing Tim’s apartment. It’s the same deliberately clean open-concept room as he left it, except for one change. Across from the aquarium that hides the entrance switch, Tam Fox is reclining on the divan in the living room, one hand holding a glass of wine and another flipping expertly across her tablet.

She startles at the sound of the secret door sliding open, and that movement makes Jason tense, fingers ready to grasp for a weapon if need be.

“Relax,” Tim tells him, unsurprised when Jason does the opposite. “She knows everything.”

“And that’s reassuring how?”

“I trust Tam with my life, and to put my interests above WE’s or Bruce’s,” he explains. “Since at the moment you and I are working together, that means she puts your interests above WE and Bruce’s too.”

“She can hear you and knows how to speak for herself,” Tam quips, putting down her glass and standing up. “Who’s this?”

“This is Jason, the friend I was telling you about.”

Tim can almost hear Jason scowling at that; he trusts new people about as much as Bruce does.

Funnily enough, they both make the exact same face.

“And since when is there wine in my apartment?”

“Since you sent me scrambling around Gotham running errands, you generously decided to buy me a bottle of this very nice Riesling,” she replies, studying Jason. “When you said you had a friend with an emergency that required diapers, I was expecting Batgirl. Or Wonder Girl. Or Pru. Or, heck, even that Lynx-woman.”

“Lynx?” Jason repeats, shooting Tim a disbelieving look. “Ghost Dragons Lynx? There’s no way you have that much game.”

“Then he didn’t tell you about what almost happened in Paris,” Tam informs him.

“Anyway,” Tim interjects. That’s all he needs is for Jason to hear about his own near brush with fatherhood. “This is Tam. Officially she’s my personal assistant, but I think ‘friend and confidante’ covers the relationship a lot better. And Tam, this is—"

“Jason Todd,” she says immediately, her eyes fixed on the other man in disbelief. Tim is momentarily caught off-guard. “It took me a minute, but I recognize you anywhere.”

Okay. I didn’t expect that. Though I probably should have. The Foxes were invited to all the same benefits and events Mom and Dad were. She probably knew or knew of Jason.

“Tam,” Jason repeats, tilting his head to one side and frowning at her for a moment like he’s trying to place her. His expression clears. “Tam. Tamara. Fox, right? You knocked Ned Davenport into a potted plant during Bruce’s birthday party one year.”

For once this evening, Tim is the one to feel a little bit off balance. Jason never talks about his time at Wayne manor in anything but unpleasant terms. And yet, Tim knows from Alfred’s stories that there were happy times and that once, Jason was as much a part of life at the manor as Tim or Damian.

“He deserved it for ‘accidentally’ grazing my boobs when he passed by. Three times. And—and that’s not the point! You died!”

“I got better,” he replies with a bitter twist of his mouth.

She gapes for a moment, then reaches for her glass and downs the remainder of it.

“I’m going to become an alcoholic before I’m 25,” she tells the empty glass in a resigned tone before turning back to Jason. “Okay. I don’t even question this stuff anymore,” she informs him. “He could show up tomorrow with the Devil himself and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Kid Devil, maybe. Lucifer doesn’t like Gotham. He's more of a beach-party kind of guy."

Tam stares, clearly unsure if Jason is being serious or not; Tim actually isn’t sure either and decides to change the subject.

“You want something to drink?” he asks as he heads for the kitchen. He doubts Jason will notice or care, but his mother raised him to be polite even to people that don’t like him. “I doubt you want anything alcoholic after everything today, but I think I’ve got Zesti—”

“Water,” Jason says absently, looking around the apartment. Now that Tam has been proven as a non-threat, he’s clearly more interested in assessing his surroundings.

He notices the large pile of boxes and bags by the stairs at the same time Tim does.

“What the hell’s this?”

“I called Tam and said it was an emergency and that we needed a few things.”

“This is not a few things.”

“Well, you don’t know how long you’re going to need them,” Tam replies. “Congratulations, by the way.” Tim can’t see Jason’s expression, but doubts it’s a good one from the way Tam quickly adds, "Or no congratulations? Where are we on the whole 'congratulations' thing?”

I don’t think either of us has the energy to get into what happened with Isabel just now. Redirection time.

“Did you have any trouble picking up the stuff?” Tim asks as he gets two glasses from the kitchen cupboard.

“Trouble?” she snorts, and her voice instantly goes from bemused to annoyed. “Do you know how hard it was to get all of this delivered without someone seeing me? Or seeing that it was baby stuff? That’s all I need now is Vicki Vale adding cradle-robbing and teen parenthood to her stories about us.”

“What’s Vicki doing this time?” Jason asks.

“She’s been trying to prove Tim’s Red Robin for the better part of a year,” Tam says. “She tried to get me to confirm that last year when all those ninjas tried to kill us, but I panicked and said we were engaged just to distract her.”

“Talk about taking one for the team,” Jason mutters.

Tim glares at him, and if he shoves the glass of water into his hands a little more forceful than he needs to, oh well. “She trots out that dead horse whenever Tam and I happen to be in the same room together.”

“Which is doing wonders for my career,” Tam deadpans. “People already scream nepotism because of who my father is, but now I’ve been reduced to either Tim Drake-Wayne’s assistant or Tim Drake-Wayne’s fiancée.”

“Hope he’s paying you overtime,” Jason says and wanders over to the intimidating tower of cardboard and plastic. He makes a face. “How much of this shit did you order? There’s like a lifetime supply of diapers here.”

“Trust me, that’ll last a month if you’re lucky,” Tam informs him. “My nieces and nephews did nothing but eat and poop for the first year of their lives.”

Jason appears vaguely horrified. His gaze rests on something else. “Is that a car seat?”

“How else were you expecting to bring home a baby? Carry her on a subway?”

Neither man has a response to this.

“Oh, this is going to go well,” she sighs. “Neither of you has any idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“That would be putting it lightly,” Tim acknowledges, and side-eyes Jason. “We should probably sit down and talk options, but that can wait until tomorrow if you want.”

“Tomorrow,” Jason agrees, and he sounds so exhausted and lost, that Jason takes pity on him.

“Come on, then. I’ll show you to the guestroom,” he offers and starts up the stairs. “It’s right next to the bathroom, if you want to shower. The water pressure here’s not great—” He shrugs, as if to say, ‘Park Row, what can you do?’ “—but it’s unlimited hot water.”

Surprisingly, Jason follows without comment.

“I’ll be here,” Tam says, and there’s an undertone to her words that suggest she’s not going anywhere until Tim explains the whole story.

And isn’t that going to be fun…

________________________________________________________________

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#jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #babyfic #accidental baby acquisition #enemies to lovers #slow build #tim drake #jason todd #tam fox #angst #drama #snark #tam doesn't get paid enough for this

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