#and in his own way he was a hero because the possibility of losing him is what finally made Nathan choose the hand over the fist
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got any founding of Auradon and the rescuing of Lampwick, Alexander and the other stupid little boys hc?
no one EVER talks about the founding of Auradon!
Ohhhhhh this has opened a flood gate. This might go long.
Okay, so, initially the realms merging was slow? A couple places connected like Hercules and Aladdin's. Bits and pieces from different worlds and timeframes. It was not a big all at once thing until towards the end. That was a matter of fate and was not caused by any one individual. This DID however help with things like communication barriers and adjusting to differing circumstances.
There was something odd going on though. Several people who, by varying belief systems, should have ended up in other afterlives that were ending up in the Greek underworld. This WAS caused by an individual - the Evil Fairy Godfather. He thought that getting certain villain together would make things more 'fun'. Maleficent didn't disappoint. She, using her own creativity for magic and some 'visit the land of the living' assists from Hades, convinced a group of villains to form an alliance (temporarily! Villains don't share well, she knows that) to take their revenge on those who had defeated them. Hades thought this was HOT AS HELL by the way.
The heroes, however, teamed up to stop them because....yes? Duh? They were gonna do that? And unlike villains and their giant egos and selfish, cruel natures, they actually are pretty good at teamwork. So the alliance was defeated and in order to establish some...well, order, in the chaos of a merge, different kings/queens/heads of state ran for a sort of 'high king' position to make final executive decisions for this new giant landmass. Adam won, because he had some strong ideas for leading Auradon into a golden age.
So. First they had to deal with the villains. Now, Adam wasn't totally happy with how things went with Gaston. Yes, he was happy things worked out and he and Belle had their happy ending, but it stuck with him that Gaston wormed out of facing any kind of justice because he died. He tried to put it out of his mind because, well, he was DEAD, he couldn't hurt anyone anymore. The alliance blew that out of the water. Suddenly they weren't safe even WITH their villains dead. They'd proven that they could and WOULD keep coming back to haunt them. So he decided the safest thing to do would be to put them on an Isle. It would be surrounded by a barrier, breakable only by the most powerful magical objects. No evil magic would be able to work there and they wouldn't be allowed any technology at the level of wi-fi or more advanced than that. That way, they could just...live their lives and be each other's problem instead of everyone else's.
I truly feel that the sheer and utter awfulness of the Isle was born more out of apathy than any strong intent to make the Isle as miserable as possible - at least on Adam's part. I mean, he's angry with them for sure and he maaaaay have learned that sometimes being harsh gets the job done for convincing people to try to be better (worked for him), but I don't think either is what he's thinking of. I think he just didn't care. Supplying the Isle with items that don't sell in Auradon just seemed like a practical way to get rid of stuff that people didn't want. And frankly, Adam doesn't care enough about the villains to make sure that the Bureau is conducting proper inspections to make sure that the stuff they send isn't spoiled or broken to the point of being unusable. The kids are a mix of the same apathy, a sort of 'they surely wouldn't be so awful to their own flesh and blood kids, right?' and just generally not wanting to keep dealing with these people who've tried to ruin his life twice now because just thinking about them makes him angry and contrary to popular belief he does not ENJOY losing his temper (even though it's definitely still there sometimes). Is that an excuse? Of course not. Adam SHOULD have cared. He SHOULD have made sure the Isle wasn't being turned into a dump. He SHOULD have made sure the Bureau cared. He SHOULD have been making sure the Isle's conditions were humane. He SHOULD have taken these kids away because WE DON'T LET KIDS GROW UP IN JAILS. That's not so much an excuse for Adam as it is a clarifying of motives.
Back to the founding though - so uh. There were a LOT of trials. Some of the ones about more controversial people on the Isle are below. Adam was not the judge in all of these. There were other judges who oversaw different cases. The judge who did the majority of the convictions for abuse of anthropomorphized animals was noted as being PARTICULARLY strict.
- Aunt Sarah: Aunt Sarah was never actually convicted of anything. She's LEGALLY speaking free to go and can leave the Isle whenever she wants. She CHOSE to go to the Isle to take care of her cats, who WERE to be sent to the Isle because they were part of the villains alliance (which isn't surprising because they love destroying things and causing general mayhem).
- Anastasia: Got suckered into helping with Lady Tremaine's part in all this (plus Drizella). So she got convicted with them. She is INCREDIBLY bitter about it and Cinderella wasn't happy about this.
- Iago: Iago...never really stopped stealing stuff. He was doing a lot of that during the chaos of the battle and so well. Yeah. Aladdin ain't happy either.
- The Ringmaster: According to some of the comics and games (which Descendants has used for material before) he IS significantly more abusive to his animals than in the movie. Which makes it easier to understand why he is on the Isle.
- Amos Slade: Amos Slade's trial is mostly noteworthy for establishing an early precedent in crimes against anthropomorphized animals (which Auradon now knows is a thing). He tried to appeal his sentence on the grounds that he couldn't possibly have known Tod was anthropomorphized at the time he committed his crimes. The judge applied a new variant of something called the thin skull rule - basically if you are legally at fault for something, you can't avoid the penalty because the harm done was unexpectedly and unforeseeably severe. In this case, the judge ruled that while Amos couldn't have known Tod was anthropomorphized, he DID know he had NO business being illegally on that nature preserve and he most CERTAINLY knew he was not to hunt there. Therefore, he had to 'take his victim as they came' and the fact Tod happened to be anthropomorphized meant he was still guilty. And therefore still to be sent to the Isle of the Lost.
- Hades: Zeus had Hades (and other greek gods and monsters involved in this alliance like the fates, Hecate, Circe, the Titans) tried in god court. This was the second time that they had tried to destroy Olympus and Hades particularly had done so to try to take the world for himself. So he sentenced them to be given a partial dose of the potion Hades gave Hercules to make them more mortal. Their magic could now be affected by the barrier, and they were a lot more vulnerable. Hades was HUMILIATED and was known to vacillate between 'I am a god, you can't do this to me' and 'I used to be a god, leave me alone'. Zeus had them stored in the Isle for safekeeping. As long as the mortals don't mess with them, he doesn't really care who the High King for mortal politics is.
The resurrected villains have no memory of dying, though they remember the battle.
The idea of the Isle of the Lost was controversial in some circles (Aladdin has never liked it, the Court of Miracles have never trusted it), while others had varying levels of trust in the idea (as presented. I don't think any would approve of how it turned out).
Since you brought up the Coachman - yeah, there was a LOT of testimony in bringing him in. Pinocchio, Jiminy Cricket, and the Blue Fairy (who'd been keeping an eye on him) all testified. So did Honest John and Gideon, because they were afraid of the GRIZZLY death that awaited anyone involved in Pleasure Island. Adam reduced their sentence from death to being placed on the Isle of the Lost - BEFORE the Coachman. Therefore, he wouldn't be able to retaliate without his magic.
The Coachman himself was totally unrepentant. He stood there grinning that horrible grin when Adam was going over his crimes. He wasn't at all afraid of the Isle or the possibility of death. And he flat out refused to help Adam find any of the kids. Adam just about lost his mind. He managed to deep breathe though and then told the Coachman, very firmly, that if he didn't help find the kids within a year or if god forbid one had died, then he would have Fairy Godmother turn him into a donkey. And then he'd be sold to one of the places he sold the kids to, where he would be worked to death. And then he'd be brought back and sold to the next place, and over and over again. And finally, when he'd worked on every place he'd sold a kid to, he'd be sent to the Isle of the Lost to live the rest of his life there as a donkey. While getting angrier, louder and more bestial the longer he went on. Wiped the grin right off the Coachman's face. He agreed to find the kids.
The boys being rescued was done in a variety of places. A LOT of owners were HORRIFIED - they had no clue what they'd bought. Adam sent busses and ordered they be promptly returned home to their parents, who were notified of the good news. Adam had the Coachman accompanied by a hero at all times (often someone like Hercules who could literally turn him into a smear in an instant) and he went to a handful of places personally to make sure the kids were turned back. He also sent the Blue Fairy or Fairy Godmother to ensure there was no funny business in him turning the boys back. Although I think the Coachman knew he was in deep at that point and knew better than to play games.
The boys stopped a couple places on their way back. One of them was the encanto, where the Madrigals let them stay a couple days while they resupplied and planned the rest of the trip (because like hell were the Madrigals gonna look at these little boys who've gone through a nightmare and kicked them out). Mostly though, I think they were glad to go home. Their parents basically threw a big block party when they got home. There were lots of happy tears.
Blue Fairy PERSONALLY dropped off the Coachman on the Isle. Which was...dangerous since she didn't bring her wand (she didn't want it stolen) but she insisted.
After everything that happened with the battle, it was clear that, while magic is a very powerful resource, it also has serious issues. It can be abused against people who have no real way to fight back. So Adam has 1) STRICTLY forbidden the use of evil magic. 2) While good or neutral magic isn't illegal, his government officially encourages people to try other means to solve their problems, like knowledge. 3) Use of magic by members of the council (like Fairy Godmother) must be APPROVED by the Council, for that reason. Hence why FG needs council permission to use her wand, even though nobody else seems all that troubled by the magic ban.
Most of the rest of the first year was focused on building infrastructure, opening Auradon Prep, and establishing the new government. As for the sidekicks? While Adam didn't force people to pay them, he has also created infrastructure that means there's large swathes of time they're not working, among other things. I guess he thought that'd balance out. It does not. "Not working" is not the same as PTO, benefits or wages. But well.
Overall? It was a pretty good start to a reign that DID create a golden age, but it also planted the seeds for rotten fruit, namely the Isle and the sidekicks issue. It added up to a complicated legacy where he did do genuinely impressive things - but also awful and flat out monstrous things.
I know that was more about the founding than the Coachman and co. but I tried to include that story here!
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More favorite shots from Army of the Doomstar!
Post below the cut because it’s long and it goes without saying: Major spoilers for Army of the Doomstar! Note: I did increase the exposure on a few of these because there were a few very dark scenes.
I love how they showed so effectively how isolated and depressed Murderface was becoming. He doesn’t even have his usual sneer, he just looks so defeated which is especially sad; Murderface’s character was always able to complain and moan but his spirit is so broken that there’s nothing to even say, all he can do is look down.
The fist or the hand?
Murderface looking trapped here always gets to me. The more times I watch this, the more feelings I have about Murderface and how beautifully they portrayed his arc. This is another of my favorite shots in the whole movie.
This one really hurt my heart - Nathan seeing Magnus at the very end, and Magnus looks so kind and soft. This is how Nathan thinks of and remembers him, despite everything that happened. Nathan loved his brother so much and Magnus didn’t realize it (at least not until it was too late and taking himself out of the picture was the only option he saw).
Comparing that to how he recalled Magnus at the beginning when he collapsed at the concert shows that what he saw at the end were his true feelings - he forgave Magnus and was able to remember him with love again. (I actually think Magnus is still alive but that’s another post.)
This shot of the Whale Goddess really took my breath away.
Same for this shot, gorgeous.
Something I’ve always really appreciated about Metalocalypse is how they draw the regular jackoffs. They always represent lots of diversity in the crowds without making normal people into caricatures. Every one of us can see ourselves out there in the crowds of the Army of the Doomstar.
Do you have a request for a screenshot or gif you want? Feel free to let me know and I will do my best. :) I can also do adjustments and edits to optimize color.
#Metalocalypse#dethklok#aotd#army of the Doomstar#aotd spoilers#army of the Doomstar spoilers#funny how Murderface has always been the most forgotten character since the beginning of the series#and in this last movie they completely fixed that and brought him into the fold with full importance#like yeah I would have loved to have seen this character development over more time#but ya know what#I am extremely happy with it at least happening at all#Murderface finally got the attention he deserves#and in his own way he was a hero because the possibility of losing him is what finally made Nathan choose the hand over the fist#so really Murderface had so much to do with the movie ending the way it did#Nathan had to find the inspiration to understand why he needed to choose the hand over the fist finally#I have a lot of feelings okay
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Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.
Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.
His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.
He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.
In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.
His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.
And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.
Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.
He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).
Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.
Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.
Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.
Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)
No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.
Tim was a villain!
At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.
Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.
#dpxdc#prompts#fanfiction prompts#brain dead#deadtired#danny phantom#danny fenton#tim drake#red robin#yum#red robin dc#danny: i love my villian boyfriend#imagine when tim finds out#imagine when tims FRIENDS find out they'll never stop teasing him#batman#does danny assume the reast of the waynes are villians too?#danny tells Tim about Phantom after they had been dating for a few months and they've said thier first I Love Yous#sorry ive been gone for like a week ive been having A Time#stressed#some people find cloning immoral even if its just body parts so idk#tim is probably hiding danny from the bats in this lmao#i got a new phone#and it has spell check! can you tell? lmao
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KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR ─── jonathan crane ✧♤
ೃ⁀➷ “Finally, a sin worth hurting for, a fervor, a sweet--you are mine.” — ‘Postcolonial Love Poem’, Natalie Diaz.
pairing. yandere!jonathan crane x reader
summary. a few months ago, you found out about your close friend’s… habit, of “cleaning up” creeps who hung around you. you use this to your advantage, but can you deal with the repercussions when your words backfire?
warnings. swearing, stalking, jonathan being creepy & delusional, manipulative but naive reader, mention of murder, p in v, creampie, breeding kink/forced breeding/babytrapping, unprotected sex, mild somno, oral sex (f), panty kink, forced cockwarming, drugging, heavy dubcon/noncon, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 6.1k
a/n. this is definitely the darkest thing ive ever written. pls read w caution everyone!!! this is also inspired by these headcanons by @babybluebex and this alphabet by @scorpiussage !!
i.
You covered your face with your palms, sniffling. “Maybe I’m just being overdramatic. I was always too nice to him, y’know? Maybe I did lead him on.”
Jonathan’s head snapped to you, swiftly stepping toward the couch and kneeling down in front of you. “No, no, that’s what he wants you to think. You did nothing wrong,” he assured, pulling your hands away from your face and wiping a sneaky, non-existent tear from the corner of your eye.
You pouted at Jonathan, big doe eyes glistening with grief. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow… and everyday after that,” you lamented, “because it’ll be so - upsetting, seeing him.”
Jonathan’s large hands clasped around your own, delicate and warm. “Does it scare you? Him being there?” he murmured softly, peering deeply into you with an indecipherable look.
You nodded pitifully, looking down at his hands wrapped in yours so your hair would fall in front of your face, hopefully shielding the glee sparkling in your eyes. Thank god Jonathan had taken the bait -- it was only a matter of time before your dear, obsessive friend would get rid of your competitor for you.
It was late evening, and you’d called Jonathan, pretending to rant about a coworker who confessed and got slightly violent at the fact you did not reciprocate his feelings. In truth, none of that had happened at all— said coworker was vying for the same promotion opportunity as you were, and it was just your luck that a few months ago you discovered your sweet friend from college had made it a habit to “clean up” any creeps and freaks hanging around you.
What kind of ambitious career-woman would you be if you didn’t take advantage of that, huh? So there you were, crying on the phone so devastatingly that Jonathan would have no choice but to come over, comfort you, and later, be your knight in shining armor and kill, kidnap or maim your coworker.
You didn’t think it immoral to do so, y’know, even though it clearly was. To you, it was just… indulging his little hero-fantasy, while also making your life just that much easier. It made you happy, and it made Jonathan happy.
It was all harmless (to you, anyway), because you knew how reserved Jonathan was… how logical he was. You were positive he’d never cross that line, go too far; stray out of the shadows with that possibility of losing you still hanging over him like a cloud.
You wrapped your arms around Jonathan’s thin neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you for coming tonight,” you murmured, your lips ghosting the shell of his ear. He shuddered under your touch, and you knew you had him whipped; probably already so deep within a plan to kill your coworker nothing could stop him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said, pulling away and letting his hand come up to the hand-print sized bruises on your shoulder. “I can’t believe that - that monster hurt you.” Jonathan shook his head aghast, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes moved from your bruised shoulder to the strap of your lacy bra, trailing down your breasts before snapping back up to your face.
Your coworker hadn’t actually hurt you, obviously, but you had asked him to knead out a knot in your shoulder at lunch, and made him pinch harder ‘till you knew it would bruise. You’d known him for a couple of years now, coming from the same training batch, and had been involved in plenty of tit-for-tat exchanges, “scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” type of deals.
So you were close enough to be comfortable massaging the other-- but you’d be fucking damned if he got the promotion and you didn’t.
“It’s not that bad,” you murmured, ducking your head like you were ashamed.
“You don’t need to downplay it -- least of all to me,” Jonathan tutted softly, two fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, brows knitting. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…” you blinked rapidly, as if you were trying to do away with on-coming tears, “I thought you wouldn’t believe me. He said… he said that nobody would believe me.”
And just like that, it was like a shadow had passed over him. Jonathan’s expression contorted almost frighteningly quickly, and gone were the delicate, comforting sweetness of his sharp features; thus came the darkened eyes, clenched jaw, frown digging into his cheeks.
“…He said that?” Jonathan whispered, voice low, barely containing the rage seeping into his words.
“He said that - he could do… do whatever he wanted to me, and I’d never convince a soul.” You confided, letting your face get weepy, tear tracks running along the curve of your cheeks.
At that, you suddenly pulled Jonathan close to you, pressing your face to his chest and making anguished cries leave your throat. His hands shakily came up to pet your hair, and you could hear his heartbeat; skipping beats and growing faster the longer you clutched onto him.
“I believe you,” Jonathan insisted, and went from petting you to holding you so tight you could barely breathe, “I believe you.”
ii.
You never saw your coworker again. He’d sent in a notice of “vacation” that nobody could really object to… considering he also informed your boss he’d already gone, and was sending said notice from his hotel.
Sure, that was incredibly suspicious anywhere else, but that’s the thing— you weren’t “anywhere else”, you were in Gotham. If your coworker had actually gone on a split-second vacation, nobody would blame him; everyone you knew who lived in Gotham had snapped, at least once, and had to get away. Most temporarily, some permanently -- in which, chalking his fate up to Jonathan, your coworker was definitely the latter.
Honestly, you weren’t very surprised when you found out Jonathan was, for lack of better word, murdering people. Specifically, people he deemed a “threat” to you.
Jonathan had always been… a touch too overprotective. Territorial, even. It was far subtler in college, but you supposed that was because you’d seen him everyday; with both of you trekking through your hellish career aspirations, you couldn’t see each other as often as you had back in school. It was like that saying-- absence makes the heart grow fonder.
You’d first met Jonathan in GSU’s large community library, after you dropped a book on his head. You were on one side of the bookshelf, he on the other, and you were trying to grab a book on a too-tall ledge. Instead of getting your measly grip on it, it went backwards and smacked Jonathan right in the rimless frames. It was a meet-cute, sort of, with you apologizing profusely, him brushing your worries off with that irritatingly charming smile of his, and then helping you with any books you needed (a clear advantage of his height) for the rest of the day.
From there you became close friends. He always knew the right things to say, had various fascinating interests (half of them coinciding with your own), and was always, without fail nor doubt, an absolute darling. He never poked or prodded into information you didn’t want to tell him (at least not yet), constantly staying polite, respectful, eloquent, and patient.
You knew now why and how your relationship had escalated like so: you suspected he’d been one of those “creeps” hanging around you, long before the library incident in your early college days. You first began adoring him for the most part because it felt like he understood you perfectly, unknowingly adhering to all your creature habits, liking all your hobbies, and knowing every word that could make you let your guard down like you’d been friends for years. It all made sense now-- he’d collected said information just from watching you for so long.
Thus the “meet cute, sort of”; Jonathan had probably been planning the moment for months. Polite, respectful, eloquent, patient.
Why you? Well, you didn’t know either. Getting psychological about this, you probably reminded him of a relative he adored - some Freudian aspect coming into play, y’know? But it all boiled down to one constant fact: he was obsessed with you.
It should’ve scared you, and it probably would’ve, back in college, but it didn’t now. His type was a dime a dozen, incredibly hard to come by; the kind of guy who you know you can trust, rely on, know without a doubt he will never leave.
Even if you and Jonathan were just friends, you suspected in his sweet, beautiful, sick and twisted mind he’d long since considered you his — and, similarly, since finding out his secret, you began thinking of him as yours. Perhaps not yours romantically, but more like you owned him. He was the ever-present lucky charm in your pocket, the one who reminded you that you’d been loved before so you’ll be loved again, your constant support.
“How’re you feeling?” Jonathan’s worried voice crackled out of your beat-up phone, startling you back to reality. You were hiding in your car while on break, not keen on talking to any of your coworkers or bosses in the cafeteria, when you’d gotten a call from him.
“A lot better, actually.” You said, taking a bite of your lunch and trying to sound relieved rather than giddy. “…He went on vacation.”
Jonathan hummed on the other end of the line. You could hear the grin in his tone, but he quickly coughed, smoothing out the cheerful jitters in his voice. “Really? That’s rather… well-timed.”
You shrugged, as if Jonathan could see you, “Whether it’s about me, or not, I’m just… glad I don’t have to see him.”
“Know that I agree wholeheartedly– the thought of him being near you made my stomach turn.” He let out a sigh, like his nerves were finally relaxing, “How about you come over tonight? I can make us a nice dinner, you can stay over if you want-- I regret leaving you alone last night… you were terrified.”
You bit your lip. When it came to Jonathan actually getting, well, romantic, you hesitated. Did he really want you, or was it his obsession kicking in? You knew he loved who he thought you were: a frail girl he needed to protect, not knowing you’d been using him to your heart's content since you found out his dirty little secret.
You were running out of fingers on your hands to count how many people you’d directed him to… clean up. First it was little targets, like the barista at your usual coffee place who’d flirt and always take too long making your drink, causing several lates at work. More recently it was the landlord of your apartment, who’d raised the rent three times in one month; after she died, the ownership went to her absent-minded son who reset the prices to the original, more-than-comfortable regular rate.
But… you supposed you could humor him. A reward of some sorts; an unknowing treat to your obedient, sweetheart guard dog. “I’ll stop by, then,” you responded delicately. “I… didn't want you to leave either, Jon,” you murmured, before quickly hanging up.
Later, after work, you’re driving to Jonathan’s with a bottle of white wine. You did these kinds of things for eachother -- little gifts, you mean -- often. Yesterday, he visited your flat with pastries from a bakery you liked all the way down in Old Gotham.
“Chardonnay,” Jonathan commented when you arrived, ushering you through the front door with a squeeze to the thigh and gently inspecting the bottle. “You know me so well.”
“Dare I say the best,” you grinned, pressing a friendly peck to his cheek and handing him your evening coat before traversing into his house’s large kitchen, swiping a finger-dip into the various dishes he had laid out in the middle of cooking.
“At least don’t touch dessert,” he pouted, quickly hanging your coat in his entry closet and trailing behind you. But his expression still cracked into a loving smile when he saw you sneak your pinkie-finger into a chocolate custard.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be patient,” you backed off with a cheeky smile, arms up in the air and opting to hoist yourself on an empty counter and watch him resume cooking.
“How thoughtful of you,” he responded sarcastically.
It didn’t take him long at all to finish up, and your eyes were trained on his sinewy figure the whole way through; the careful way he cooked, the absolute attention to every detail.
Sure, you could say that was because Jonathan was a detail-oriented person (because he was), but you also knew it was because he was nervous, fumbling to impress you-- you noticed these kinds of things a whole lot more after finding out. Like how he gave you his coat when you went out together late at night and it was cold, how he often kept you close with a hand to the small of your back, how intently he listened to your every word, like it was the last thing he’d ever hear.
“Like what you see?” Jonathan joked when he was done, urging you to sit down across from him and handing you the chardonnay poured in one of his wine glasses.
“M’just admiring your cooking skills,” you explained sweetly, taking the glass and sipping it mildly.
Jonathan’s eyes crinkled, lips curling into a sheepish smile. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to: he radiated delight. You swore you could see pink dusting his high cheekbones, a feverish blush burning from his ears to his pale neck.
From there, dinner went on with some friendly chatter, his skillful dishes, and several more glasses of chardonnay. Nothing ever got old with Jonathan-- he listened well and he spoke gently and he revered your every word; you felt important just by being near him, he was so devoted.
By the end of the night, however, you were feeling rather light-headed- veering on the edge of unconsciousness: “I think I’ll - take you up on that offer, Jon…” you murmured, trailing off and getting up from your seat. It was odd, surely, how quickly a mere white wine had gotten you drunk, but then again you’d been housing a nearly-full glass every few minutes. You lost your drink count ages ago.
Jonathan, ever the gentleman, stopped tidying up immediately. “Good judgment,” he nodded agreeably, coming to your aid and picking you up bridal style. Your head swam at the sudden movement, his feet swiftly heading down the hallway, but his gentle voice quickly aided the dizziness: “Don’t force yourself and don’t worry, just sleep…”
“M’sorry,” you whispered, holding him tightly by the lapel, more words on the tip of your tongue, but he just shushed you, “didn’t help.”
“That’s quite alright, my love,” he replied lowly, entering his bedroom. He pressed an uncharacteristic kiss to your forehead and let you down onto his cushy mattress, watching how quickly your eyes dropped. You were certainly feeling the effects of the glass he laced now-- and then you were out.
Jonathan needed to have you now, under his protection, and he’d achieve that through any means necessary, be it liquid melatonin or anything else…
“You’ll have plenty of time to help later. You’re home now.”
iii.
“Sorry about… last night,” you said the next morning when you got up, rubbing your eyes sleepily and padding into Jonathan’s kitchen.
You found him leaning against his marble countertops, gently sipping down a mug of black coffee within his calloused grip, and he raised a brow amusedly. “You said the same thing in your sleep.”
Your gaze darted away from his own at the sudden embarrasssment. “Nonetheless… thanks, Jon. I’ll be out of your hair immediately-- I’m actually rather late for work. I kept a dress here last time, right?”
He set down his mug with a dull clink, and in your rambling, he’d made his way right in front of you. “No need,” he murmured, to which you tilted your head in confusion.
“I already called in for you. You’re not going to work today.” He explained, a thin smile coming up to his face, eyes gleaming.
You laughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling trapped at the way he took slow steps forward, making you backtrack into the wall. “What are -- Jonathan, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t, in good conscience, let you leave.” Jonathan insisted with a nod, expression knitted in a way you knew he thought he was doing the right thing.
‘“Let me’ leave? Is- is this a joke? Because it’s… it’s not a funny one,” you stuttered, heart beginning to hammer in your chest at the way he looked down at you. It was like he was watching a wounded animal-- in a way, you felt like it… and Jonathan was clearly your predator.
“It’s not a joke, dear. Gotham’s gotten too dangerous for you,” he informed you softly, hands coming up to hold your face lovingly. His steps stopped, and you felt it: he’d finally pinned you against the wall, and there was no escape. “That coworker of yours was the last straw. My heart aches at the thought of what he could’ve done to you.”
“I - that wasn’t…” You trailed off, cringing at the way he leaned in further, his hot breath fanning on your cheeks -- how helpless you were against his advances.
You knew something was going to happen when Jonathan couldn’t just stay on the sidelines anymore, but you didn’t think it’d happen like this. You thought it might end with him professing his love to you, pleading and begging you to indulge him fully. That he’d fume and sob at rejection… that he’d let you go.
But Jonathan was like a ticking time bomb: with every victim you gave him, moments were ticked off his clock. It seemed that your coworker was the last second… and that he’d had enough of his frail darling being surrounded left and right by threats to take care of. He knew it’d all be so much easier if he could keep you safe in one spot, a place only he could enter.
“That wasn’t what? My god, I knew I couldn’t leave you all alone like that anymore… you’re too sweet, too innocent to know what’s gone too far,” he shook his head pityingly, unaware how hypocritical his words were.
“Jonathan,” you looked up at him, breath catching at the way his fingers dug into your neck, “what are -- what are you going to do to me?”
He let out a sharp laugh, “Do to you? Oh… no, my love, I won’t be doing anything to you… no, I’ll be keeping you safe.”
“Safe?” you repeated incredulously, “but what about - my life? My friends? My family? My job?”
He shushed you, not unlike he had done just the other night, or the night before that, “You don’t need to worry about any of those trivial things anymore. You have me. I’ll give you anything -- no, everything you want.”
Your lips parted and closed, unable to come up with a response that may cause him to realize the sheer insanity of what he was saying. He’d gone too far… had slipped too deep into the infatuation while you weren’t looking.
Then, Jonathan wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and immediately invading your nostrils with the scent of his cologne. It had been nice, once, but now it sickened you: how quickly that scent made your head swirl and your stomach clench… how quickly Jonathan had went from a darling pet of yours to a terror of unimaginable size.
Fuck, you thought, fuck, you’d been playing with fire this whole time-- you had been playing with fire while being naive and underestimating and wholly stupid.
You’d completely underestimated the depth of his commitment; how Jonathan was the kind of man who loved one and only one, and that there was no letting go with him. That once he had his claws in your skin, there was nothing that could stop him.
But then, you remembered your thoughts from just two days prior-- you had him whipped. It was like a lightbulb went off; you knew you could use that, use his mindless, adoring obsession to you…
“Jonathan,” you murmured under your breath, too quiet for him to hear as he hummed lovingly above you. “Jonathan,” you repeated, louder this time, pushing him away and startling him.
He blinked rapidly, fixing his glasses that had gone askew in your sudden movement. “What is it, my love?”
“You -- you love me, do you not?” you asked, swallowing the cowardly dryness in your throat.
Jonathan nodded vehemently, inching closer, desperate to have you in his arms again. “Nothing in the world could compete with my love for you. Nothing.”
You exhaled shakily, putting your hands out in a poor way of creating more distance between you two. “I - I love you, too. I love you.”
You saw Jonathan’s face light up at your sudden confession, saw how his demeanor changed from hesitant to beaming. “You love me?”
“Yes, yes, I do,” you insisted, panting as beads of sweat rolled down your back, “and I’m telling you… I won’t anymore, not if you keep me here. If you truly love me, you won’t trap me here.”
“It’s because I love you that I plan to keep you here,” he frowned, before grabbing you by the extended wrist, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you in a deathgrip.
“But you love me,” he repeated in amazement, pressing rough kisses along the side of your neck that had you whimpering, “so you’ll understand. God, how I’ve longed to hear those words leave your mouth.”
Jonathan had gotten tunnel vision at this point, barely registering your pleas, and when he began pawing at your clothes, apparently in some kind of delusion that your “confession” was a lustful one… you jumped ship.
He thought your confession meant he had permission to have a taste of you, and while it made your knees buckle and your throat burn, if it meant he might finally fucking listen, let you convince him to let you leave… so fucking be it.
The two of you then stumbled back down his hallway to the bedroom, tugging at each other’s garments while pressing hungry kisses on one another. You played along dutifully, trailing your hands along his back while tugging off his jacket, and other articles of clothing.
Entering the bedroom at last, Jonathan gently pushed you down onto the springy bed, having long since undone you-- you were left in your lacy underwear from the night before: black bra, black stockings, lacy thong hidden beneath it.
You wore thongs because they didn’t leave any panty lines under your thin pencil skirts, but you were quickly regretting the choice when Jonathan crawled onto the bed and roughly tugged down your stockings, surely leaving holes and runs in them, and let out a lecherous groan at the sight.
“God, I love your body,” he purred, hands hungrily groping your thighs and throwing your ruined stockings off to the side. “Can’t believe how long I waited for this.”
You closed your legs on instinct shyly, but he just as quickly pried your legs apart, leaning in and pressing sweet kisses along the soft flesh. “Jonathan…” you whimpered, trying to act needy, like you wanted him so bad-- in reality, you wanted to get this over with.
You reckoned if you let him fuck you, get him pussywhipped, you could promise you’d adore him wholeheartedly if he just fucking let you leave his house. You couldn’t deny how his ministrations made you feel, though; his plush lips brushing along your clothed cunt made tingles run up your spine, made your heart beat in a way that was anticipatory rather than terrified.
“Let me take care of you,” he promised, slipping off your panties and leaving your lips bare. You would’ve hissed at the cold, but the noise died in your throat as you saw Jonathan ball up the lace and press it to his face, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” Jonathan groaned, and you almost gagged. “Wonder how good you’ll taste…” With that, he pressed his face between your legs and began lapping up your wetness, and you felt a gleeful smile tug at his face.
You gasped at the sudden action, bucking up into him on instinct. Your cheeks burned with shame, but you still choked on an unwarranted mewl when Jonathan’s tongue slipped inside your sticky hole and felt along your velvet walls.
He couldn’t exactly speak, with his mouth trained artfully on your cunt, but he let out an unintelligible noise of approval. All of this made you nauseous, your insides twisting in disgust, but your body reacted the opposite, pussy pulsing and clenching around him.
It was just -- fucking criminal how skillful he was with that long tongue of his, licking long stripes up and down, suckling on your clit, searching for the spongy spot in your cunt that he knew he couldn’t find without his cock, but wanted to make you squirm anyway.
You felt that familiar pressure building within you, his tongue going down on you faster, making shameful squelching noises echo around the room. He was hitting every pressure point, something you hadn’t felt in… well, honestly, you weren’t sure you’d been eaten out like this ever…
The thought you were enjoying this, that he might actually make you come made you queasy, and your hands tangled through his locks, pulling him away. “Want - want your… your cock,” you panted, shaking your head when he tried to bury himself in your sex again.
Jonathan frowned, going from all fours to sitting on the backs of his heels. “Baby…” he said, hesitant. You knew he wanted to take his time, worship you, treat you lovingly, but you were getting confused… losing yourself to the pleasure, forgetting you were doing this to stop him from holding you captive, not because you actually wanted it.
You pouted, and, to prove your point further, you pressed one of your feet onto his extremely noticeable bulge, fondling it softly. He nearly doubled over at the much needed friction to his neglected cock, and then Jonathan finally let go of all his inhibitions, giving into his primal needs.
He quickly undid his belt buckle and fly, slipping out of his suit trousers. Your heart sank at the reveal of his size; the imprint of his cock looked extremely intimidating, and that was beneath his boxer shorts.
It seemed your thoughts showed on your face, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, leaving an embarrassing amount of your wetness on the skin. “It’s okay, my love,” he reassured, “your pretty pussy can take me.”
You nodded hesitantly, your teeth capturing your bottom lip and nipping at it nervously as you watched him completely undress… his cock wasn’t very thick, but boy, was it long, coloured a delicate pink hue that was pretty and aching, but you knew he wouldn’t be using it delicately at all.
The way he looked at you, almost feral, eyes dragging over every curve and practically melting at how your hole gaped for him had you wanting to cover up, run away-- but you held still and forced yourself to brave through it.
You only need to do this once, you repeat mentally, only once, and you can convince him to let you go.
Jonathan didn’t waste any time touching himself or anything like that, he merely crawled atop of you and slotted himself between your shuddering lips. “So wet,” he grunted, slowly pushing his cockhead in.
Despite his words, and the terrifyingly glaring feeling of your wetness, you still winced at the stretch; your back arched at the intrusion, your arms wrapping around his neck and digging your fingernails into his back just from the pain of his tip at your entrance.
He slid the rest of the way in jiltedly, and you let out a pained gasp, then a helpless whimper, and finally, his name, your voice weak and raspy as he laid his weight on your torso, panting at how you soaked him. His unruly length was going deeper than you thought possible, and your mind went fuzzy with fear at how it’d feel when he actually started thrusting in and out. You could only pray he didn’t break you.
“You did it, dear,” Jonathan announced proudly, pressing a kiss to your lips this time. You shuddered at the intimate gesture, but he didn’t seem to notice, and slowly pulled out, before slamming back in.
You swore you saw stars, tears welling in your eyes at the rough action, and Jonathan placed his hands on your hips to soothe you by rubbing circles into the skin. “Full,” you choked out simply.
Apparently, he thought that was praise, and he repeated the action, falling into a steady rhythm of slow but brutal thrusts. It had you gasping for air each time, the sting in your lower-half almost unbearable, but you suddenly felt yourself falling into a morally muddled, puzzling state of mind: he was practically torturing you with his length, but he was also whispering sweet nothings in your ear, gently massaging your rear.
“You’re so -- fuck, thats a tight pussy -- beautiful,” he’d murmur, hanging his head low into the dip of your collarbone, “so beautiful.”
But, as you had to keep reminding yourself, you didn’t want this-- this was just the only way you’d escape. You didn’t want to be fucked by him, and most of all, you didn’t want him.
That train of thought was thrown out the window, however, when Jonathan’s hands suddenly hooked under your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. You were pulled further beneath him, and his cock went even deeper, punching up against the spongy spot in your pussy.
You moaned; feverish, loud, wanton, and Jonathan drank it in fiendishly. From there, he knew where to thrust, pounding in and out of your cunt and hitting that spot everytime. The pain fell away into a sickly pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at how deliciously he was fucking you.
“Jonathan!” You mewled, digging your heels into the small of his back. He was relentless, ruthlessly rutting his hips into yours and gripping your thighs so tight there’d be hand-shape sized bruises littering your body later.
“You like that, darling?” he groaned proudly, pushing your hips further down his cock. “God, you love it, don’t you? I can feel you squeezing me…”
Your fucked out mind couldn’t discern between your lustful thoughts and your logical ones; you couldn’t help how you nodded, how you pleaded for more, despite the terror swimming in your gut -- despite how the sober part of yourself weeped.
Then, it was like a tight rubber band around your stomach snapped; the pleasure that had been building in your gut burst, sending electric shocks of ecstasy running through your entire body. You saw white for a moment, your toes curling along his back as your thighs shook, your moan coming out terribly loud and sounding every bit his name. You didn’t mean to, of course, not again, but your mind filled in the gaps: Jonathan was fucking you, so Jonathan deserved the praise.
“Fuck!” Jonathan growled, “You came so hard… all because of this cock, all because of me.” Then, he began slamming his cock into your quivering hole quicker, desperately chasing his orgasm.
It was only then in your foggy, post-high mind did you realize he’d never used a condom… you weren’t on anything, you hadn’t been for years, and the way Jonathan was fucking into you gave no indication he was stopping. The thought of him coming inside made your blood run cold; there’d be no escape, you’d be fucking finished—
“Jon-- Jon, pull out,” you instructed weakly, trying to push him off you and watching how his focussed face tensed and tightened with the oncoming orgasm.
“Sweetheart,” he panted with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”
“Please,” you whimpered helplessly, “just - just please pull out… don’t come inside, please!”
“I’m afraid not, my love,” He grunted, baring his teeth and hammering into you faster, “m’gonna paint your walls white… get you nice and pregnant, fuck, no-one’ll have to question who you belong to…”
“Don’t, no, no -- Jon, please,” you begged, struggling to get away from his assault on your cunt as he pressed his weight further onto you, pinning you down against the bed.
But Jonathan wasn’t listening to you, not anymore. “Gon’ come, fuck, gon’ come,” he repeated, his thrusts stuttering, and you could only let out a grievous cry when you felt his cock twitch, hot spend spilling deep within you.
Jonathan laid on top of you for a moment, pressing his forehead against your sweaty chest, before leaning back and pulling out of you. The painful stretch was reawakened, and your tears really came this time, large sobs exiting your mouth as you crumpled into a ball on the mattress.
“Oh, my love,” he called your pet name with a furrowed brow, crawling closer to you, “what’s wrong? Was it too much? I know how delicate you can be…”
God, you could’ve screamed. He was still treating you like his little lamb… but you were beginning to feel that way, too; feeling like someone helpless he needed to protect. With the way you bunched up devastatedly beside him, it felt like Jonathan had fucking broken you, and then put you back together again with that doll image in mind. Not all the pieces fit the way he wanted them to, but Jonathan had time and brute force to fix all that…
“You -- you… I’m ruined,” you weeped, unable to explain properly with how terrified you felt, bringing your hands up to your face to shield yourself from him.
Your plan had no future of fruition, not anymore… you’d fucked him so you could convince him you were trustful enough to leave and still be his, but you’d fallen into his trap; fucking him was the way he attached a ball and chain to your ankle.
His hand curled around your wrist roughly, pinning it to the bed and letting his other brush a tear from your eye. “No, no, you’ll be the most gorgeous mother I know… your tits and your stomach all swollen like that? I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
Jonathan said that like you wanted him to be all over you, and it only made your cries wrack through your body harder. He then pulled you close to him, pressing your tear-stained face to his chest, letting you sob into him like he brought any comfort at all.
You suddenly felt him press up to your entrance and your tears stopped momentarily, a fearful whine exiting your mouth instead.
At your noise, he pet you gently, reassuringly, “Don’t worry… I’m just keeping us warm… keeping my come inside, my love.” With that, Jonathan slowly slid his length past your aching lips, until he was seated so deep within you his cockhead brushed up against your cervix.
His cream squelched within you and coated himself, feeling terribly slick and sticky between your thighs; you wanted to throw up there was such a large amount of it marking you from the inside.
“God, how d’you already feel brand new… need to do this more often….” he grunted the praise, and you felt shame colour you entirely.
But despite that shame and the terror swelling in your chest, the fact him within you was a surefire way none of his seed went anywhere but inside, his cock resting there did feel nice, like his rough fuck molded your pussy to fit him perfectly.
It was confusing… all of it very mind-boggling; how his actions petrified you while still making you feel nice and appreciated and loved… how his obsession was possessive and toxic but all at once delicate and thoughtful… how you felt yourself cry because he’d come inside you but was slowly succumbing to a sweet and comfortable sleep within his wiry arms.
There was much time to make sense of your amalgamated terror and love later, however. Nine-months long, to be exact: you later woke up to Jomathan pummeling his leaking, hard cock back into you. All you did was whimper, keep limp as he used you-- there was no choice fighting back, not anymore; not since he’d fully marked you… impregnated you… made it so there was no way you were ever leaving him.
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#batman begins#does anyone see the parallel between the first part and the last part#scarecrow x reader#dc scarecrow
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it's a story about hands (reprise)
Yeah, okay, today's the day.
I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.
Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.
Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.
I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.
The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.
It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…
…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.
Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:
Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.
Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound.
The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:
As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,
…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?
This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.
It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.
Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.
As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.
I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.
#lin speaks#bnha meta#bnha manga#bnha 419#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#bakudeku#bkdk#dekubaku#dkbk
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ೀ how they hug you
rewritten and reposted of my hc set from my old blog @/star-puff! thank you to all my old dedications as well as my new ones @kurooppi @wyllsravengard for making my return to this fandom possible <3
feedback is very appreciated!
ft. yuuji, megumi, gojo, getou, nanami
itadori yuuji embraces you warmly, fondly, sunlight streaming through the window and scattering over your bare skin. it's someplace safe and comforting, enveloped in his arms like he's taken it upon himself to protect you from everything horrible in the world; he is your knight, he is your shield, your safe haven to escape to, no matter how many wounds he will endure in the process. ("yuuji," you whisper, a hand coming up to rest gently on his arm. he bleeds desperation. "i'm okay, i promise." yuuji squeezes you tighter, trembling, and you wonder what you can do to make it true for him, too.) he holds you for far too long for it to be anything casual, but you can't really complain about it anyway—it's better this than to witness the alternative. after all, what is the sun without a place to hold its warmth; what becomes of a hero when they fail to protect the things that matter most?
fushigurou megumi comes to you slow, steady, a ripple of water in the pond. you coax him out gently, holding your arms out before wrapping them around him. his breath hitches (always, no matter how many times he tries to hide it) and his body stiffens, arms frozen at his sides. but slowly, surely, your head buried in his chest, megumi's arms begin to wrap around you in a manner you can only describe as tender—as if you could break if he held onto you too tight. (truthfully, megumi thinks he's just afraid. the jujutsu world is a dangerous one, after all, even to those who only know of it by name. megumi has lost too many people, and you're the one person he can't afford to lose.) he flinches at the thought, pulling away. you draw yourself closer in him, instead. moonlight behind the clouds, you'd gladly hold onto this night forever if it meant megumi was by your side.
gojo satoru is known as many things—a child prodigy, the strongest, a boy-god making his presence known on the lowly earth, but to you, he is simply just obnoxious. satoru makes it a spectacle each time he sees you: hollering, gallivanting, draping himself over you with his long limbs and impossible-to-miss frame. you huff and complain and uselessly try to drag yourself away from him each time, but satoru hooks onto you and refuses to let you go, nuzzling his face into yours. (they're mine, the action screams, a blaring warning to anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in the collateral. you've been too caught up in your irritation of him to notice this, of course, and you're certainly not someone who would take the explicit meaning of it kindly, but satoru finds that he doesn't really care. not when he has more important things to attend to.) gojo satoru is many things, but the one thing he absolutely isn't is someone who can share.
getou suguru smells of sandalwood incense, a musky amber you think you could identify blind. sometimes, you think you remember a different suguru, a kinder suguru, one that had easier things to worry about, a brighter look in his eyes, an easier weight to his gait. if you think back far enough, you suppose it might have been because he had somebody else by his side to keep it that way, a brighter light shining next to him to keep the darkness at bay. (but that was a long time ago. now, suguru is the one left to be lit by the fire, stuck in the ashes of his own kin for a future little understand. you're not sure who is to blame for that anymore.) you're not the light that can save him—no one can be, not anymore. when suguru reaches out to you, rare vulnerability bubbling over in a way you can only describe as drowning—as crumbling—the only thing you can do is curl yourself next to him in the incense burner, smearing yourself in the ash.
nanami kento thinks you need this, especially after a long, hard day. the melting comes slow: his hands on your back, gentle pats and quiet whispers of comfort as he rests his chin on your head. and then comes everything else. his hands slot perfectly into the dip of your back, the small of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles over the fabric of your clothes, and in the eyes of no one but yourselves, the two of you begin to sway back and forth to a quiet melody nanami begins to hum. you cling onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to memorie the smell of his cologne, the rumble of his voice, the warmth of his arms. (it's too much, to have a memory of a future that will inevitably happen. you almost want to cry. don't go, you want to say, a lump in your throat, wishing for the impossible. don't go.) and still, selfish as you are, nanami hugs you like you're slow dancing in the dark.
#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#itadori x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#getou x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#yuuji x reader#yuji x reader
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Ok. Ok. HEAR ME OUT. Miguel hanging out with reader (shes chained to the chair) and feeding her (shoving food down her throat) bc she mentioned she hadn't eaten anything while Miguel was out handling business (beating up a child)
Ommg yess but like imagine reader being a spider person and unbeknownst to her, Miguel has grown really fond of her, seeing her as his own daughter and so he... dotes on you. Look, his family loss is still fresh, so he has this abundance of platonic love that he just needs to pour and you are luckily (or not) that person.
And papa Miguel is like trying so hard not to show that he cares about your well being, but HE DOES and he's always worried about you and he just wants to pull u out of the field and tell u its too dangerous for u to be spiderman, but he doesn't wanna say it because then he'll have to explain his concern for u and I've already told u guys that he's an emotionally crippled father who cant say "I love you" but their actions always scream out the words.
So, he thinks its best to just take care of you as best as he can without arousing suspicion from you or pulling u out of the field (cause he knows u love being a hero). He makes you food(mostly mexican because everything else doesn't have enough spice and it doesnt matter if u cant handle spice, you will LEARN to), okay? I mean good, homecooked meals, 3 times a day and he expects you to eat breakfast and dinner(ofcourse u have a curfew) with him. But lunches? well, since you're always on missions during lunch time, he packs u up some food for u to take and he always checks your bento box (ALSO SPIDERMAN THEMED OBV) but perhaps this one day, you forgot to or didnt want to take your lunch along (a very tasty burrito) and when Miguel sees your lunch in his kitchen, he is LOSING it all. My man here is making himself go crazy(ier) by overthinking the worst possible scenarios (because this is unusual behavior in his textbook) and he sends a sort of AMBER alert on your ass because you're not answering his calls/texts(cause ur busy fighting bad guys) and Miguel just sends the ENTIRE spider society to find where you are and bring you home ASAP. Obv the spider society follows his orders to bring you because he's boss man and he probably has some important reason to drag ur ass home and not because papa's heart cant handle that his baby missed lunch???
Omg can you imagine reader finally finishing tying up the bad guys and now stops by a pizza place to grab a slice and girl looks outside to see 100 spidermans swinging around, all coming her way. These guys all shoot enough webs until you were practically cocooned in them and perfectly immobilised, and then they all open up the portal to deliver u to Miguel.
And Miguel just shoos them all away before he begins to free u from the webs and asks where u were, what happened, did the bad guys hurt u, were u kidnapped.
"Yeah-" you pulled the webs out of your hair. "-by your men!" And Miguel explains that he sent them after you because he thought something bad happened to u.
"Why would you think that?"you inquired.
Because you forgot your lunch at home. No, he cant say that.
"I- my spider senses were telling me to. I guess they were wrong." Now before you could ask more questions, he changes the topic. "Anyways, you must be hungry. Lets eat lunch-"
"No, I actually ate a slice of pizza before I was brought here-" you start but Miguel glares at you as he pulls out a dish of enchiladas from the oven, placing it in front of you.
"You will eat. You're hungry."
"I'm actually not. Like I was saying-" but he glares at you again, piling up your plate with enchilidas.
"I wasn't asking, mija." He hands you the utensils, red eyes piercing you. "You are hungry, and you will eat. Now."
#yandere miguel o'hara#yandere miguel x reader#yandere atsv#yandere platonic#platonic yandere#platonic#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spiderman atsv
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"For your mother's sake."
It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.
Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."
Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.
In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.
#dracula daily#re: dracula#dracula daily spoilers#crucifix lady#jonathan harker#dracula meta#my meta
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Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.
See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.
And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.
These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.
An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.
Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.
The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.
What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.
Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.
He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.
That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.
So that didn't work.
Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.
But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.
So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.
Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.
And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.
Mizora created solidarity. Oops.
Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.
But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.
But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.
The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.
But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.
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Even if it hurts <3
Note: this is hot garbage I wrote half asleep listening to cigarettes after sex. I never wrote angst b4 so thought I’d give it a try. (I never read it back either, heeelp 😭)
Summary: katsuki bakugou has to end things with his gf of two years.
Warnings: none I can think of¿
Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem reader
"Listen, I love you, I really do, but with the way my grades are slipping, I need to focus on my hero work now more than ever. I just want you to understand that," his voice is calmer than usual. You feel tears drip on your clothing and look down at that.
You didn't even notice you were crying.
"But I don't want to lose you," biting at your lip to hold back a sob bubbling up your throat, you watch Katsuki through blurred vision as he shifts uncomfortably on his bed, Now avoiding eye contact with you.
When he texted you to come to his dorm room, this was the last thing you'd ever expected. But deep down, never wanting to admit it, you saw it coming, just not so soon.
"Y/n…" his voice trails off, fearing that if he looks at you crying, he might breakdown himself. "I don't wanna do this either, I'm not tryna be a jerk, but right now it's for the best. You'll thank me in the future when we're both top her-" cutting himself off when he hears you stifling, he closes his eyes tightly.
This hurts him just as much. It's impossible to hide it, yet trying to keep composed, he continues. "You're not losing me, I'm right here and I'll always be here for you. After graduation, if things go how I hope, I'll take you back in a heartbeat. I can guarantee that much." These words echo in your mind as the room falls into silence, the only sound being your hiccups and soft sniffles. It remains that way for a minute or so.
"Y/n," his voice croaks as he turns his attention to you, but the sight brings such a violent pain in his chest he didn't know was possible, almost like there was a knife twisting that he couldn't remove. He has to tear his eyes away once more, looking at anything else but you. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
"Two years... we've been together for two years, Suki," the sound of his name falling from your trembling lips burns his ears, and he knows whatever you say next will haunt him after.
"But I'll never call it a waste because loving you was the best thing I've ever done," you sobbed. Your throat feels swollen and stuttered as you try to speak the words in your head. "I'll respect your choice, even if it hurts. As long as you're happy and fine with this decision, then I'll be happy and fine with it. And that's all I ever wanted for you after all, to be happy." Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to put on a smile.
Katsuki's stomach turns as you finish. Everything in his being is yelling at him to take it all back, to tell you 'it doesn't have to end like this, we can work through it together.' However, he knows that's not true. He wishes it was, but he can't take on this relationship and his career at once. He tried to make ends meet, but it didn't work. He knows this is what has to happen. It has to be one or the other, and you know that as well. And god, does it hurt. His head is spinning and he feels sick. Katsuki never knew he could feel physical pain from something like this before, up until now.
A soft hand brushing against his cheeks reels him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he sees your puffy eyes and tear-stained face wiping away at his own. "We're gonna be okay, Bakugou."
You press a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away slightly and whispering against them. "Promise." His hand goes up to wipe away your own tears, and you let him. You both sit in silence, crying and basking in each other's touch one last time before you move away.
Making your way off his bed and to the door, you grab the handle hesitantly for a second before leaving.
As soon as you do, he quickly buries his head into his pillow, letting out an uncontrollable sob, finally breaking down. You hear it in the hallway, only making you cry harder as you walk further.
Both of you are heavy-hearted.
#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#mha#bnha#bakugo x y/n#katsuki x you#bakugou angst#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#this is hot garbage#idk what else to tag#fem reader#breakup angst¿
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Eucatastrophe isn't just a nice little plot device in The Lord of the Rings. It isn't just a nod to his worldview. It's absolutely vital to the specific story Tolkien's telling.
The Ring's main temptation is that it offers control. It offers you enough power to defeat all your enemies, to make sure the story ends the way you want. The heroes have to avoid that temptation at every turn, because taking up that power would make them no better than the villain. They have to move forward against impossible odds, knowing that they don't have the power to win, yet hoping that somehow, there's some greater power that will turn the story in their favor.
That's why the enemy's main weapon is despair. He tries to keep their eyes on the logical possibilities of this world, try to make them believe there's no hope of outside help, to think the only things they can rely on are their own power or his own dominance. If the heroes lose hope, they'll either submit to his power, or be tempted to take up power that will still make them slaves to the Dark Lord. Only with that hope can they withstand him.
It's not just hope that Tolkien's heroes need--it's hope unlooked-for. When, based on the knowledge they have and the resources they hold, they can't see any hope of success, they have to move forward in anticipation of a hope that they can't see. A hope that goes beyond the bounds of what they can logically expect. A hope in something greater than the petty powers of this world, in a power that can't be wielded but can only be trusted to turn all things toward a greater good.
And that hope is not in vain. The Dark Lord, for all his pride, all his grasping for power, is still bounded by the limitations of this world. He can't hope to overcome powers from outside the world. His plans can be foiled by a change in the wind, by the arrival of unexpected allies, by a withered, grasping creature taking one wrong step at the edge of a volcano, by air support that shows up at the last minute to save the heroes from death. These turns of fortune aren't just convenient escapes for the heroes--they directly tie to the theme at the heart of the work. In the context of the main conflict of the story, a eucatastrophe is the only way it could end.
#lord of the rings#tolkien#the return of the king#this has probably been said a thousand times but it just struck me yesterday#i knew it was central to the worldview but i hadn't quite grasped how central it was to the plot and themes
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I might make some people mad, but I'm gonna say it, anyway.
So, Ceroba's reason for choosing Chujin over Star was because she wanted someone more mature. At least, that's my understanding. Star was playing cowboy and role-playing with his friends while she wanted to settle down and raise a family.
And... yeah, Star had a lot of growing up to do. And he did almost none of it until Ceroba stopped him from shooting us.
Star's main character flaw is his ego, but it's even worse than just an ego. Half the reason he set up the Wild East was to help everyone else. He wanted to bring in money to help his family when the Swelterstone's effects caused a drought; he wanted monsters to get a taste of what the surface is like so they don't drown in despair; and he wanted to make Ceroba happy after she lost both her husband and her child. All of this on top of feeling like he was a "nobody farmer" that couldn't do anything or help anyone.
So Star's primary character flaw isn't as simple as just having a big ego. His primary character flaw is trying to fix others as a way of fixing himself.
Sometimes this is a good thing, tho. I often think of Star as the "papa" of the Feisty Five. He's the protective one, he's the one teaching them ethics (reminding Mooch that they're not supposed to be bandits, playing dead to teach Clover about the responsibility of potentially hurting someone), he takes care of the town, he's made ALL his own money from this town that he built himself (enough that Mooch wants his inheritance, so it's a sizeable amount), he even gave his posse a designated nap time, gave Ceroba a home (and possibly gave her his bed while he crashes on the couch), sews his own clothes, set up all the rules and regulations... and I could go on, but I think I've made my point. Star is not wholly irresponsible. He's not perfectly responsible- he, and the rest of the posse, have a habit of breaking and losing Blackjack's weapons, they're all loud and rowdy, and they have a tendency to forget to turn off their boulder machines out in the Dunes.
So, yeah, Star does still have some growing up to do. But he's got a good start.
As for... everything that went wrong... That was entirely due to Star's worship of humanity. Star fell in love with westerns and with the justice and overall sense of romance that they portrayed, so much so that he not only tried to make himself into one of his western heroes, but he then extended this worship to the first human to ever set foot in the Dunes- namely, Clover. And because of this, Star completely threw everything that was good about himself out the window. He sees a human an immediately decides "this is my deputy," without even really giving Clover a fair chance to see if they even are deputy material. He forgot the safety glasses, got so worked up he forgot how to pronounce "duel," became extremely temperamental, apparently forgot that Vengeful Virgil was scheduled for the train mission that day, locked up a Royal Guard against her will (arguably committing treason in doing so, I might add), and just generally began running over everyone's words and emotions, including Ceroba's.
So when it came down to the Showdown... Star blamed Clover. Star's not an idiot. He knows good and well it's not Clover's fault. It's Star's fault- or more precisely, it's his worship of humanity that is to blame. But the problem is, he's taken it upon himself to guard the feelings of other monsters, to make them feel hope and joy. And he just screwed up and stole all that from them. So he's conflicted, not willing to admit that he has done the exact opposite of everything he set out to do. And since it's his worship of humans that led him to this point, he decides to blame the human.
Hence, the Showdown.
But he doesn't want to do it. He says himself, "Monsterkind's Hero is a title soaked in blood." He loves humans. And he sees Clover as a friend. He doesn't want to kill them. He's not a killer, and he doesn't want to be one. He doesn't believe in it. Justice is one thing, but... how is it just to kill someone that did nothing wrong?
So. Here's where Ceroba comes in. Telling Star he needs to calm down and go back to who he used to be. And Star points out that she's changed, too. Even Ceroba says, before taking Clover to the Steamworks, that she doesn't know if she has room to tell Star to go back to the Starlo she used to know.
Ceroba, tho, is no different than Star (this is the part that I said might make some people mad). Ceroba worships Chujin just as much as Star worships humans.
Ok, look. Chujin was a great craftsman. He built so much- furniture for Dalv, his and Ceroba's house, the space heater at the Honeydew Resort, many other items in use throughout the Underground, Kanako's toys (even programmed a video game for her), and so much more. So much that even Star respects him for all that he did for everyone.
However, there is also much that indicates that Chujin wasn't the best at his job. His only award is "You Tried at Engineering," and it took 14 tries for him to build a working robot. In Chujin's defense, I will say that it is impressive that he did build a working, sentient robot without the use of a SOUL, which is how Alphys made both Mettaton and Mew Mew; however, if Chujin is really such a genius, why did it take 14 tries to get Axis to work, when it apparently only took 1 try for Guardener?
And then Chujin didn't just stop with robotics, but went on to SOUL research. Two completely different fields. (And before anyone starts commenting on Alphys, I just want to point out, yet again, that both of the robots she built did use SOUL power; so, realistically, Alphys never was a great robotics genius, but rather, everything she did was a part of SOUL research- hence, the reason Asgore hired her as the Royal Scientist). But Chujin decided to press on with his SOUL research, despite there being no indication anywhere that he had ever done any such research before.
Now, I'm not trying to say that Chujin wasn't remarkable or a genius. I'm just pointing out some things that indicate that maybe he wasn't quite the genius that Ceroba wanted to make him out to be. And... Ceroba's reaction to his "You Tried" award. She's proud of him. More pride than what is warranted by such an award.
Ceroba said she met Chujin when he pretty much rescued her after she twisted her ankle, fell into a ditch, and laid there for several hours, unable to move. She also said that she had considered dating Starlo before meeting Chujin. So... hate me for this if you want to, but I feel like she may not have the best judgement when it comes to guys. Now, that's not to say she picked losers or creeps. Both Chujin and Starlo were/are sweethearts that care deeply about everyone around them. But the fact remains that Ceroba left behind the guy that she'd known all her life for a guy she just met, just because he rescued her from a bad situation.
And I'm not even saying she made a bad choice! By all accounts- including Ceroba's, Martlet's, and even Starlo's- Chujin was a good, kind-hearted, hard-working monster, and a wonderful husband and father. But... he wasn't perfect. And I think Ceroba, even though they had to have been married at least 10 years, just always had stars in her eyes where he was concerned. He was her everything. She believed he could do no wrong. She believed it so strongly, she was willing to do... many horrible things.
Ceroba's drive to kill Clover started with her love for Chujin. She wanted to do anything to keep him alive in her own heart. And when their child begged and pleaded for a chance to help, Ceroba agreed, because Kanako woshipped her father, too. Ceroba's misguided belief in her husband guided her to do things she would never have done otherwise.
Thus the reason for her guilt. It's not just guilt over killing her own child. It's also guilt over knowing that it was her own misguided worship of a monster that wasn't as perfect as she thought he was, that this was what led her to kill, and to kill again.
Ceroba worshipped Chujin. Just as Starlo worshipped the ground Clover walked on, Ceroba worshipped the ground Chujin walked on.
So when people point to Ceroba's comment that Starlo didn't grow up... yeah. She's right. Starlo needed to grow up.
But so did Ceroba.
One of the hardest parts of growing up is realizing that the people you worship are just people. They make mistakes, and you, yourself, are mistaken for believing they can do no wrong.
So, anyway. There's as much Staroba (Starfox, I call them) hatred as there is love for the ship. I've seen both sides of the argument: Starlo isn't mature enough; Ceroba is insane. Yeah. You're both right. And that's why they're perfect for each other. They both made the mistake of changing everything they were in an effort to continue worshipping their idols. They both went nuts. They were both driven to kill. This is the inherent danger of idolatry, believing so much in something that isn't real, that you will do anything to make it stay real to you.
#undertale yellow#starlo#ceroba#clover#my analysis#character analysis#starfox uty#chujin ketsukane#kanako ketsukane
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Mike was saying "I love you" to Will
Most people see Mike's monologue and think of it as "proof" that he and El are an endgame couple, but it's actually one of the strongest hints of a Byler conclusion.
Because Mike was saying "I love you" to Will.
Sounds crazy? Of course! He was speaking directly to El, after all. What the hell am I talking about?
Some have focused on contradictions and other issues with what Mike says, including listing El's superpowers instead of the full person she wants to be loved for being. Plus he had to do it (and was pushed by Will), or else El and their friends in Hawkins might have died. It does seem like El sensed something off in what he said, which would explain why she hardly talked to him afterward.
But I actually disagree about Mike's "I love you" being a total lie. In the official script it's written that it had a positive effect on El (although the way it was ultimately shot and edited made it more ambiguous). (I got this screencap from a TikTok video):
And so, in the van, Will DID make Mike love El. Mike MIGHT have wondered whether Will was talking about himself too, but one thing he was convinced of was that that El loved him because "he's the heart." Feeling like she loved him for who he was made him love her. I think it's more accurate to say that, while Mike's monologue may have had issues, he DID feel something genuine... BUT the logic of events leads more toward a BYLER conclusion than away from one.
The problem for Mike and El is that Mike was saying "I love you" to the idea of El that WILL put in his head:
Will said that El felt like a mistake, and that Mike made her feel like she was better for being different. She was terrified of losing him and so that's why she pushed him away.
So Mike came out of that conversation with new feelings for El: he thought that SHE needed HIM to love her, not because of "dumb luck," but because of his unique qualities. Who HE is helps her be a superhero.
But El's journey in Season 4 was to LEAVE Mike to "be a superhero." When she left a note for Mike, she tellingly signed it "From El." When she realized he couldn't say he loved her, she chose to let go of their romantic relationship. Her journey in Season 4 was about finding who she was independently from others in her life (most importantly her "papa" Dr. Brenner). El went through her own journey that REQUIRED separating from Mike.
By the time they reunite, she has grown. Instead of Mike coming up with the plan (like so many times before), EL came up with the piggyback plan. While she was piggybacking, Mike said "I love you" -- but having her self-image rely on how Mike sees her was something she was moving away from.
She had felt like a monster. What liberated her from feeling that was NOT Mike and not an elusive "normal life" (with a relationship). She had to realize this on her own:
There were clues in Mike's monologue for her to pick up on that he wasn't fully telling the truth, first and foremost him saying that he "knew, in that moment, that I loved you." (He couldn't have, when he was openly scheming in s1 to get her sent away, possibly to a mental hospital, loud enough for her to hear.)
But Mike DID love El when he said "I love you." Mike saw someone who desperately needed him, someone whom MIKE was a hero to and not just the other away around.
That person he was thinking of, of course, was WILL.
It wasn't like it was news to Mike that El needed his love: El confronted him earlier in the season for not saying he loved her. We all saw that El's heartbreak didn't convince Mike that he loved El.
Ironically, it was WILL'S heartbreak, HIS emotions, and HIS words that did. And Mike felt something real this time, because it came from WILL.
Will's words affected Mike deeply. Deep down, Mike wants to be someone's hero. He's the leader; he's "the heart." When dealing with a superhero like El, he can admire and love her, sure... but does it make MIKE feel loved for who HE is? Does a romantic relationship with El COMPLETE him? Mike doesn't want to be a discount Lois Lane. He wants be loved because who HE is makes him THEIR hero, too.
Mike has always been bullied, misunderstood, and angry. He rambled just before Will's speech about being "some random nerd" and feeling like he didn't deserve El. He felt inadequate, and this affected him ("leader Mike" recedes when he's in a relationship with El, and comes forward when someone -- usually Will -- needs him). Will's point "You make them feel better because they're different" doesn't just describe El + Will; this is what Mike is looking for, too.
Being "some random nerd" is part of why Will loves him so much. Will's painting was the perfect gift; Will knows and understands his best friend better than anyone. The D&D theme was a tribute to Mike the nerd -- he sees everything he is, the "good" and the "bad" -- AND he sees the hero and the leader. WILL's love for WHO MIKE IS made him feel like he's a good person.
(Here's an angelwithnightmares video that shows this about Mike exactly)
Mike's journey in s4 was him rediscovering that he is a hero. And this required separating from El and hearing this from Will. Will said that he's the leader of the group: "You keep the party together." And earlier in the season he reminded Mike "you guys saved me" (with a proud "I did, didn't I" reaction from Mike that was super cute lol).
Will's love gave Mike the strength to be a hero again. Mike pretty much used Will's words in his monologue to El. Two scenes at the end of Season 4 foreshadowed "leader Mike" coming back; his speech to El, and his "We will" shoulder grab with Will. Whatever issues there were in his monologue, this was THE callback to "leader Mike" of s1 and s2. He didn't help El beat Vecna, but he helped them survive. Mike spoke of his genuine platonic love for El, while thinking it was romantic love. And it was WILL's romantic love that helped him be this hero, to say "I love you" to the person he thought made him feel that way, who as it turns out was WILL.
So we'll have a final season where there is this hugest of loose ends when it comes to Byler: Mike will somehow realize that Will in the van was describing himself and not El. Mike will realize that the first time he felt romantic love, was because of Will, and that Will more than anyone helps him be the hero he wants to be. (It's the perfect formula, writing-wise, to make a person confused about his romantic feelings!)
AND Mike will learn that Will sacrificed his own happiness for him and El. How does that NOT lead to Mike loving Will even more than he already does?
Finn Wolfhard himself said about the van scene:
How is he this clueless right now? What with the Will scene... I remember asking the Duffers, "Why would he not know all this?" And they were like, "Don't worry, kid, it'll pay off in the end."
I think it will.
-teambyler
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i'm gonna be real idk if your the right person to go for young justice core four headcanons but you give the best replies by far so heres my own idea idea
I was listening to the Roblox Soundfont remix and now the og Gone Angels and now I'm thinking . . .
Tim became Robin to prevent Batman from ceasing to be the symbol of heroism and good he started off as
The symbol that spiraled into destruction of even the self with Jason Todd's death
imagine a world where Red Robin becomes the very thing he swore to destroy with his own death
he dies along with Bart and Kon. Cassie due to this and maybe other factors fucking looses it, Batman post-Jason's death but pre-Tim becoming Robin style
or maybe instead he dies but the rest of the core four lives. either way Cassie still looses it, by herself or with her other teammates
And maybe, just maybe, they get nobody to be the Third Robin to their Batman, no Third Robin to Tim's Second Robin
likely improbably in canon but the idea of Cassie and maybe even Bart and Kon having a villain arc (maybe Black Silence style) is too good of an idea not to share
(Side note; imagine a Gone Angels cover where the survivor(s) sing and for the itallian lyrics in the midway point the deceased sing)
((extra side note: imagine this is what gets Batman and maybe the other Bats to reflect on the time before and after Tim become robin, post Jason's death; seeing their history repeat with Young Justice))
((hell maybe the Justice League realizes as wells))
"you give the best replies by far." Thank you. Sometimes, it takes a bit to reply to asks cause I'm taking a few hours to really answer the prompts/ideas/questions people pose. I also sleep at random times, so apologizes in advance to any asks that take a while!
My image of YJ is a codependent platonic polycule. They are Young Just Us because they didn't receive proper support from their mentors. This is part of why Cassie and Tim fell apart after Kon and Bart died. This is why, in their own weird ways, both of them tried to get a form of Kon back. Tim tried the scientist cloning avenue, and Cassie tried the cult.
If you want Tim's death to inspire Cassie and YJ to go evil, might I suggest Tim sending proof of Bruce being alive in the timestream and then succumbing to his spleen injury (perhaps an infection)? This would create a delicious amount of angst, anger, and mental breakdowns.
Cassie, the only nonretired YJ member alive at the time, didn't believe Tim about Bruce being alive. This was in part due to the cloning stuff but also in part to trusting Nightwing (or Batman at the time). If Tim didn't make it out of that alive, Cassie may be desperate to find anyone to blame but herself for that. She was a kid, she was lost in her own grief, and Tim should have had the support of literally any other hero.
The entire hero community turned against a teenager in his time of need that he resorted to conspiring with the LoA and ended up losing his life. Whether she chooses to be mad about nobody believing him (Tim's possibly a better detective than Bruce and people have revived before, but his evidence at the time was flimsy), she can be very pissed that not a single hero offered to help him. They didn't even need to trust in Tim's decision. They could have just accompanied Tim until the teen gave up or proved himself right. They could have treated it as a grief road trip while Tim found himself.
Anyways, losing the last nonretired YJ member that way may cause her to just snap. The JL was already on thin ice with the YJ for their lack of support to her generation of heroes. Them failing YJ enough that two children died in the field and one died as a direct result of their actions? She would, rightfully, loathe the JL. On top of that, she does already not trust the government for what they did to Secret. If she can't prosecute the JL, she'll become their enemy.
Cassie lost all of her main polycule. She wants revenge.
After Bart and Kon come back, they see how JL left Cassie and what they did to Tim. Cassie is part of their ride or die, and she has been treated so horribly. Tim has died. They obviously join her.
Now, with Bart there to give evil ideas (Bart is the scariest member of YJ and you can't convince me otherwise), YJ is a force to be reckoned with. Maybe some of the other members come out of retirement, maybe not. They would be unstoppable with Tim helping them, but that's the problem. They don't have Tim. Tim isn't there to help them nor hold them back. That's why they became "evil" anyway.
I like to imagine someone, probably Nightwing, screaming at them from across the battlefield. "This isn't what he would have wanted! He became Robin to stop Batman from destroying everything. This is the antithesis of why he became a hero!"
For a split second, YJ would pause. There's merit in those words, after all. Cassie would recover first as she shakes her head. "He became a hero to be the leash to Batman's rage. He's not here now. He's not here to temper our rage, and you did that. You abandoned a child." She plants her feet more firmly and points her sword at Nightwing. "We won't let you do that again."
It's dealers choice on whether YJ win the battle or not. Also, I do believe YJ would be obsessed with trying to bring Tim back. Perhaps some of their evil deeds truly stem from them trying to find ways to bring back Tim. They are incomplete without him just as they were incomplete without Kon or Bart and would be without Cassie.
Now, is Tim actually alive or does he stay dead? Did Ra's revive him using the Pit? Did Ra's lie or misguide the Bats while keeping Tim hostage? Will Tim come back, either after being brainwashed by Ra's or escaping, to find his platonic polycule has officially lost it and turned evil?
#cassie sandsmark#dc comics#dc universe#young justice#young just us#let yj be evil#tim drake#bart allen#kon el superboy#thank you for the ask!!!!#yj can and should take over the world for the greater good
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I'm glad we can all agree that Twilight hearing Time say he's proud of him and deciding, apropos of nothing, that Time can't POSSIBLY be proud of him because the Hero's Shade was pissed at 16 year old him for doing the exact same thing he did here and WORSE except with ZERO TRAINING OR EXPERIENCE OR WEAPONRY OR KNOWLEDGE TO SPEAK OF is the shittiest most faulty un-logical leap to have ever been made.
Sweet bleeding mercy, dude.
Dead Time, having seen Twilight pull this, double down on his stupidity, ignore his advice then, had to watch teenager Twi several hundreds of years after his death proceed to do ALL of the following:
Attack huge unknown monster unprepared, charge into battle with only a sword (barely knowing how to do more than slash with it), get fucking knocked on the head, lose track of his brother and best friend in the process, nearly drown, almost lose an arm, get fucking yanked into the Twilight, GET KIDNAPPED AND CHAINED UP IN THE DUNGEONS, nearly get his shit rocked again by his adoptive father and half of the village by running in casually As A Wolf
WHILE knowing full well that Twilight in his own future will do half of this AGAIN, SHOWING HE LEARNED *NOTHING.*
Frankly the Hero's Shade was lenient and could have beat his ass harder than he did, but the breathtaking stupidity in Twilight's conclusion that Time isn't truly proud of him is. Something else. This man has not matured in the slightest. Props to Hero's Shade Time for restraining himself.
By the way I made a meme about this here look
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#Paloma Talks#Lmao#Like#My dude#Be less of a dumbass#lu twilight#lu time#lu update#lu spoilers#If you thought for even a second you could see that your ass deserved to be beaten so hard#Of course Time is proud of you#Future him was just trying to prevent teenager you from running into a damn brick wall headfirst
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No hero, just me
Captain John Price x (f!)reader
Summary: You got abducted and John, along with his team is sent to rescue you. When the get-away vehicle is sabotaged, you have to walk the rest of the way to safety. John seems unusually worried and caring towards you. Are you actually just a military higher ups daughter or something more to him?
Warnings: Abduction, canon typical violence, injuries, pining, longing, slow burn, angst, kissing, parental issues(!)
A/N: Hi everyone. This idea has been brewing for a while and upon popular demand I created the story around the lovely Captain. Please note that I not only discuss your relationship with Price but also with your family. So for those who have parental issues, please read with caution. Otherwise please enjoy :)
Words: 11.976 (Yeah, that might have escalated a little)
It was cold. So fucking cold. Your aching back was leaned against an icy brick wall, your knees pulled up to your chest. With shallow breaths you tried to stay as warm as possible but it seemed like with every day that passed, your hope of rescue dwindled. At least that´s what you were sure off. You scoffed at your abductors stupidity. Had they not done their research?
Lieutenant General August _____ was everything but a devoted father. Maybe he once was when you were a child but as soon as you became older it became clear as day to you that his priorities had shifted. It was devastating to watch your brother completely lose himself in trying to impress his father. With flying success though. He was on his way on becoming a Colonel and your father paraded him around at functions like he was his most priced possession. But Alexander himself…he was a mere shadow of a person with character, edges or a mind of his own. It infuriated you. Your mother was the same. Only worse. She clung to the respect, grace and riches your fathers position came with, with such force, that every smile of hers since you were ten years old had only been a forced grimace. The only genuine thing about her? Every proud look she gave her son, every devoted gaze she gave to her husband…and every ounce of disappointment and caution she gave you.
It wasn´t like you rebelled against your family. You weren´t involved in any sex scandals, drug problems or any other affairs. Quite the opposite. You tried your hardest to stay away from those things. But that also meant staying away from your families affairs. You didn’t want anything to do with anything. You hated the fancy dinners and balls. You hated the pretentious smiles, conversation and frankly boring as fuck people your parents surrounded themselves with. And how much they played into their cards to hold up the good family reputation. So it was no wonder that your parents became more and more irritated with you when they saw your blatant disinterest in the military, politics or any of it. How you showed up at parties and dinners, not talking much, not engaging and just waiting for the time to pass you by. It wasn’t what they were used to from your brother.
Needless to say your relationship with your parents didn’t exactly improve from then on. You´d moved out as soon as your mother didn’t throw a fit anymore and within a week, you found a flat way outside London in a quiet village. You were thankful to the great education you´d received however. It allowed you to work from home and you only had to come into the office about twice a month. You loved it. Alexander had helped you move and when it was just the two of you, you could see the very sharp and quite witty brother you had shine through. He and you have had several conversations about your respective situations and there was a mutual acceptance that the other sibling just wanted to have everything or nothing to do with it.
So why not Alec? Why wasn’t Alec sitting here, wondering what had gone wrong? Well, that was actually an easy question to answer. Because he was overseas. You groaned and hugged your knees closer. Of course your parents would receive a ransom demand for you. But how quickly would they react? It had been days. Days and you were sure that you weren´t even in the UK anymore. The ride in the van had been hours long. And the helicopter flight had been even longer.
You heard the shackles outside the door rattle once again and the panic crept into your veins as it had been each time it happened. The door opened but you couldn’t lift your head. A tray was placed in front of you and a deep chuckle reached your ears. It was cold and condescending. “Really” the voice snarled with a thick accent you couldn´t place. “I would´ve guessed your father to have reacted by now. What a shame.” The man stood up again and before closing the door again said with a much more sinister voice, “If he don’t react soon, holding you will not have much benefit, will it?”
You knew what he was trying to say with that. And even though you were somewhat estranged from your family, you´d never guessed they´d let you die like this. It hurt. It hurt fucking bad. It shouldn´t have been a problem to meet their demands with the social status and power your father held. What in the world were they asking for, for your father to wait so long to react?
Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short by a loud bang and then….shots. Shots? What the hell was going on?! You were on your feet as quickly as you could and winced from the pain your stiff legs and numb feet were in. You hears voices shout. They were coming closer. In a panic you remembered something your father had thought you. As quickly as you could you wobbled over to the door and stood in a way that would conceal you for a split second once the door was opened. A split second that could give you an advantage. You readied yourself, pounding onto your thighs with your fists to warm up your muscles and praying they wouldn’t give up on you.
A moment later it was quiet behind the door and you almost thought whoever was in front of it had left. Then, with a bang that nearly toppled you over it swung open and you pounced. Your fists made contact with a solid body and only your momentum made the man stumble a little to the side before another one grabbed your shoulders. Yelling from the top of your lungs you fought as if your life depended on it until you heard it. “Calm down, Ms.___. We´re here for you! Your father sent us. Calm down!” You halted your movements and looked around. A massive man stood in the doorway, almost cutting off all light from the corridor. Another one stood to the side and it seemed like he was the one you pounced on first. Both men were clad in heavy armour and facemasks. The one holding your arms however was only slightly taller than you. Same facemask and armour though.
You were panting and looking around wildly until the man spoke again. “Are you all right, Ms.___? Can you walk?” His voice was stern, deep and only slightly hurried. You looked at him again as a little bit of relief washed over you. You nodded slightly before you spoke. “I think so” you rasped. The man lowered your arms and gave you a once over. Seeing your whole body shiver violently he sucked on his teeth and bellowed “Soap, Ghost, make sure the path´s clear. She´s not well on her feet.” With that he quickly but surprisingly gently wound an arm around your waist and guided one of yours over his shoulder, supporting you as you began to move. He might as well have been carrying you. The way all three of them moved was nothing short of deadly precision. It seemed though they had successfully killed everyone that was inside the run down building. The scene you where stumbling through looked like a badly orchestrated film set.
Several times you´d stopped behind the men named Ghost and Soap while they checked if the way was clear. When the man next to you dragged you outside it was pitch black. You couldn’t see for a second but trusted the man who was guiding you. It felt like an eternity that you stumbled, ran and slit through the night. Only your own panting and an occasional, softly grumbled warning from the man beside you. “To your left, Ms.___. Careful” “There´s a small hill up ahead” “Hold onto me” “Don´t let go, you´re doing great”
The moment you felt like your feet couldn’t go no further you heard Ghost and Soap opening car doors in front of you. Finally, with the prospect of sitting in a safe vehicle with people that were there to rescue you, you collapsed onto the bench in the back and began hysterically crying. Sobbing, you curled up onto the seat, yet again realising that your limbs were cold as ice and aching. As the vehicle began to move you felt the soldier that had been jumping into the back with you move. A moment later a heavy warm blanket was thrown over your shoulders. Grabbing onto it like a life line you scrambled to throw it around your feet.
“Hold on” the man said gruffly and took your hands in his. “Shit” he grumbled and kneeled down in front of you. Almost hectic he pulled the blanket over you more tightly before removing your shoes. You were whimpering in protest but he just looked up at you. Pleadingly. You stopped struggling immediately. Why was he looking at you like that? Your vision blurred as you tried to make out his features. He´d removed the facemask.
A full beard, moustache and mutton chops, a full lower lip, piercing blue eyes. Blue, so blue. His hands were still moving until your feet were out of your shoes and soaked socks. Compared to your feet, his hands were scolding hot as he began rubbing your feet with them, all the while not breaking eye contact. “We need to warm them up” he whispered. You simply nodded and another tear rolled down your cheek. “I know” he said and held your feet. “I know. It´s over,___. It´s over.”
It took you a moment to realise that he´d just used your first name. You nodded your head. “Over” you whispered and began silently crying again. For another few minutes, the soldier constantly rubbed your feet as fatigue clouded your mind. You felt your body fall forward. Another moment later the soldier caught your falling and guided it onto the seat again. He gently pushed a little further so you lay down on the seats. With the last remains of your strength you felt him wrapping you up in the blanket, a little feeling returning to your feet.
“What´s your name?” You thought he hadn´t heard you because it was a mere whisper that left your lips. Then you saw those eyes again, right in front of your face as a gentle warm hand removed a strand of hair from your forehead. “John Price” he said in a calm tone. “My name is Captain John Price.”
Dull voices reached your ears and slowly you came to. “…do you mean, dead?” “It´s dead, what can I tell you?” “Bastards! They sabotaged the gas tank. There´s a hole in it.”
Holding your head you sat up realising that the car had stopped. The captains head moved towards you. Quickly he moved to your side. “I´m afraid we´re broken down. We need to walk the rest of the way to the evac-point.” He looked at you apologetically. “How are your feet?” His hand moved underneath the blanket and gently stroked your feet, checking their temperature. “I´ll be fine” you said, moving your toes. “They´ve warmed up quite well.” The captain nodded. He only seemed half optimistic.
“Here” he handed you something from his duffle bag. “Your shoes are dry now but your socks are a mess. Wear those. They…might me a bit big.” If the situation hadn’t been any different you would have laughed at the way he said it. As you moved your still aching muscles and pulled on the socks and your shoes you looked at him and asked “How long do we have to walk?” His shoulders sacked for a moment and dread filled your veins. He opened the doors in the back, threw out his duffle bag and jumped out. Turning towards you he held out his hand to help you get out of the car. When your hand moved into his, you were again astounded by its warmth. “I´m afraid it´s quite a walk” he said as you jumped and stood in front of him.
Looking up slightly into his face you were able to make out more in the pale light of dawn. His mutton chops accentuated slight chubby cheeks and a freckle dusted nose. Damn. He was handsome. You were pretty sure that his stature was not only this bulky because of the gear he was wearing. His shoulders stood out in relation to his narrow waist and big thighs. You swallowed hard when you realised that his hand still held yours. “We´ll take one day at a time. You´re safe” he repeated with conviction to make you believe.
“Price.” The massive man you´d seen before called out to him. The captains hand let go of yours and a shiver ran down your back. All three men stood in front of you, ready to leave. “It´s a three day hike. We have to cross a border for them to pick us up otherwise there´s going to be a problem. Officially-” John Price looked at you with a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We´re not even here.”
You again nodded and prepared for a long walk. John stepped in front of you for a moment and as to reassure himself that you were ready, tucked the blanket you were still wearing tighter around your shoulders before leaning his head to the side for a moment. Looking up at him you tried to smile reassuringly. He didn’t seem quite convinced but nodded his head once before gesturing you to move in front of him. You followed the other men that waited a bit down the road.
Soon however you made a right and left the deserted road. The sun began to rise and you could see that the man named Ghost lead you towards a mountain range. You gulped. You weren’t nearly as fit as these three men and frankly felt bad for them as they marched on in their armour, holding their weapons and duffle bags. The paths you took gradually became more narrow and more steep. Your feet began to hurt again but not because of the cold this time. You´ve walked quite a way in a tempo that you weren’t used to and a terrain that was less than forgiving.
When you reached some sort of level ground you were panting and sweating. Trying not to make it obvious that you were out of shape compared to your rescuers, you tried to gulp down the pants and discreetly wiped the droplets of sweat from your forehead. To your left and your right, massive walls of stone reached up into the sky, making the path in front of you quite dark although it must have been midday by now. It seemed like Ghost lead you down a huge gash right between the mountain when the path suddenly fell into a steep decline. With an agile elegance that you wouldn’t have guessed coming from a man like him, Ghost began climbing down.
“Soap.” You turned around to the commanding voice and the man with the mohawk turned around right on the edge of the decline. “Switch places with me. I need your eyes in the back.” Soap nodded immediately and walked passed you. He sent you a friendly little smirk just as John Price came to a halt next to you. “You´ll need your hands for this, there´s loose rubble all along this path” he said and took the blanket from your shoulders. The look in his eyes was almost pained. “Sorry” he said as he rolled up the blanket and stuffed it in his bag. “Here, this´ll help for now. Uhm…” he rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a long sleeve, olive green shirt. Holding it out to you he looked quite sheepish. “I´m sorry I…I had to use it before we got to you so…it´s not fresh or anything, but It´ll have to-“ You grabbed it immediately and gave him a grateful smile. “It´ll do just fine, thank you, Captain.” You pulled it over your head immediately, so you didn’t see John blink several times or the curious look Soap shot his Captain.
When you emerged from the too big shirt you nervously looked at the pathway before you. “Don´t worry” John said and gently touched your shoulder. “Ghost will be scouting, I´ll be right in front of you and Soap behind. Nothing´s going to happen.” His raspy voice and still scorching warmth gave you a funny yet very pleasant feeling in your guts. “Okey” you said and took a breath. “Okey.”
So, with the captains huge back in front of you, you started climbing down. You were slow. Many times you needed the help of either John or Soap. Soap gave you a hand in climbing up and John was there to either pull you up or help you jump down, always there to catch you. Every time, you noticed your temperature rise and you felt like it had nothing to do with the workout. The callouses of his hands felt better and more comforting than any soft, warm comforter you´ve ever owned. You really needed to keep it together.
Just when you were close to asking for a break you saw the path opening onto a small platform. With a gulp you saw that it was the edge of a cliff. Several hundred feet it fell down granting you a stunning yet frightening few of a sunset over a dusty, rocky landscape only ever so often interrupted with patches of green. Ghost was standing to your right were the platform thankfully expanded. When Soap landed next to you, he lead you over to were Ghost and Price were unpacking a few items from their bags. “We´ll have to stay here tonight. Giving there´s only two ways onto this platform it´s the safest we can be tonight” Price said as he handed you your blanket. “Safest?” you asked carefully. “I thought…but, they were all dead.” Your voice panicked slightly as the three men exchanged dark looks. “At least one of them must have gotten out” Soap grunted. “Otherwise they wouldn´t have had the time to sabotage out gas tank.”
“If they decided to come after us, we´ll be prepared” Ghost said in a level voice. Your heart was thumping in your chest and an overwhelming feeling of guilt filled your every cell. You hung your head as you carefully sat down, hissing slightly. “Your feet?” John immediately asked, kneeling in front of you. You shook your head not being able to look at him. “Muscle ache” you mumbled. John grunted and moved to hand you a water bottle. “I´m afraid I have to ask you not to drink the whole bottle at once. We´ll have to watch out for another water source.” John again sounded like he was about to punch himself. Maybe because you wouldn’t look at him? Aaaand there went another wave of guilt so you lifted your head and tried to smile. John sighed and his eyes took on a much warmer look. “There´s no need to put on a brave face,___.” Your name on his lips again sent a shiver through your body. “You can sleep. I´ll watch over you.”
Your eyes widened at his phrasing but he didn’t look away from you. Somehow his face seemed so familiar, you could look at him forever and never get enough. “Thank you, Captain” you whispered lamely because your brain wasn’t able to conjure up anything else. To your surprise John began to chuckle for a second and again looked you deeply in the eyes. With the setting sun in his back and the light blitz of his teeth you could almost forget the situation you all were in. He looked maddeningly handsome. The sheen of red in his hair coloured it almost auburn.
Along with his beard and cerulean eyes you were so, so tempted to lean forward but then John spoke again in a low, quiet voice. “John” he said and chuckled again when you looked at him questioningly. “Call me John. No need to use my title.” Your mouth opened slightly. “I can´t possibly-“ He shook his head and gave you a playfully stern look. “I´m afraid I must insist.” With these words he handed you a protein bar and pulled his duffle bag closer. “Use this as a pillow. We can´t make a fire but with the blanket, I think you´ll be alright.” He gave you a small smile that this time actually reached his eyes and you liked that one much, much more before he stood up and walked over to Ghost.
How am I supposed to sleep with his image in my head? You wondered before you tried to make the piece of rock as comfortable as possible. Your concern was futile however. As soon as your body somewhat relaxed it shut down. With your eyes on John´s back you felt them drooping quickly and exhaustion finally caught up with you.
You awoke what it felt like hours later. Not having slept longer than an hour at a time while being imprisoned, the knowledge of three soldier watching over you let your body and mind finally get the rest it needed. Still, when you opened your eyes, your back hurt slightly from the hard ground and your feet still ached from the march. Blinking you realised that the sun wasn´t quite up yet. Only a slight blue fog hung low over the land you were overlooking. Turning your head to the side you saw Ghost´s massive back standing close to the pathway you´d came down just hours before. His weapon in his arms, breathing evenly. You groaned quietly when you sat up and rubbed your neck. Soap was leaning on the stone wall to your right, his head bobbing up and down while he slept. A little further ahead you saw John. He was standing in front of the beginning of what seemed like the pathway down. You gulped. The path was quite broad for what it was but to the left it fell several hundred feet. No railing or security.
You stood and walked over to the Captain. When you were only a few steps away from him he turned his head to the side and watched you as you came to a halt beside him. “Did you sleep at all?” you asked quietly in a whisper. He hummed as he smiled to himself, adjusting his weapon in front of his chest. “ I slept enough.” It was your turn to hum, although yours sounded more disbelieving. John had to bite back a grin. “Are you rested enough? We´ll have to walk quite a way today.” He sounded concerned. You sighed. “I´m sorry” you said. John´s eyes took on an almost pleading look as he shook his head. “I must be such a millstone around your neck. I´m…I´m slow-“
“___” John said your name sternly. You didn’t dare look at him so you stared ahead while tears welled up in your eyes. When John spoke again, his voice had taken on a much gentler tone. “___. We don´t care about your level of fitness or whether you´re fast or not. We came to get you back home safe. That´s our mission. And if it takes us longer or one of us has to carry you the whole way, we don´t care. We care that we found you alive, first an foremost.”
You nodded and wiped away a stray tear. “You´re doing your job” you said and shrugged but somehow that sentence stung like hell. A flash of the same hurt crossed John´s face at the same moment but none of you saw the other. “It´s not just that” he mumbled into his beard without you hearing it.
Then he continued slowly. “We were deployed under the strict command of your father. He might…not show it much but, he´s quite worried about you.” You couldn’t help it. You scoffed pretty loudly and gave John a look that spoke volumes. “I believe he sent you. But you don’t have to say things that just aren’t true to make me feel better. I highly doubt he´s worried about me. He´s more likely to be worried about what this whole situation is doing to his reputation.” John was quiet for a while, then he said in a level voice. “I won´t presume to know what the relationship with your father is like. All I´m saying is that I saw his face during the briefing. It didn’t seem to be the face of a man that didn’t care about his child.”
You felt bad all of a sudden. Your father and you might have grown apart and distant, but did that mean that the love was actually gone? When shit hit the fan would you still be there for your parents? The answer was simple. Yes. And that made you feel even worse. You sniffled again when you thought about how low you´ve thought of your father. His role wasn’t an easy one and he sacrificed a lot for his career. You were still convinced that neglecting his family or becoming a cold and distant person was not the way to go but who were you to judge? You took the easy way out as well.
“Damn” you mumbled and wiped at your eyes. That seemed to only make it worse and the full extent of what had happened to you hit you full force. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” You started crying. In front of the most handsome man you had ever met. Perfect. You didn’t hear him move over your sniffling and your whimpers. All of it seized at once when you felt two huge arms around your shoulders. You were gently being pulled into a massive chest. The gear vest he was wearing was definitely not comfortable but you couldn’t have cared less at this point. You buried your face in it and held onto his waist with both hands, fisting his shirt. “It´s okey” you heard his low vibrato voice above you. “It´s okey. You´re safe. You´re safe” he was saying it as if to reassure himself of the fact that you actually were.
He held you against him for as long as you were still hiccupping and your forehead was pressed to his chest. He didn’t let go even the slightest.
John´s POV
Fuckin´ hell, he thought. If it weren´t for his vest you´d probably hear and feel his heart going ballistic in his chest. He didn’t blame you. How could he? You weren’t military and all that had happened to you must have been the happenings of nightmares. And still you allowed yourself only to break down now. He admired you for that.
He also didn’t blame you for not remembering him. Your meeting had been only the briefest of moments and you hadn’t really looked at him at all that night when you were introduced to him, but John? He couldn’t move his eyes away from you all throughout the festivities. He wasn’t used to nor did he like these functions much either so he very much understood your demeanour, whishing he would be allowed to show the same kind of disinterest in the glitz and glam.
The night had been dull until you were introduced to him. The moment his eyes locked briefly with yours, it felt like his world was turned upside down. He knew your disinterest wasn’t directed at him, he could feel it. John wanted so desperately to talk to you, get to know a bit more about you. He wanted to pick your brain about everything. To him you were electric, thrumming with honesty and simply radiant. So very different from himself.
And then, he´d lost sight of you. He was moving around the ground floor of the house with searching eyes trying to get one more glimpse. Just one more and he´d be happy. But he couldn’t find you again. Not in the living room, not in the tea room, not in the kitchen. His heart heavy with disappointment he bid his goodbye and left. He lay awake that night longer than usual. Your face, your grace and your dress in front of his inner eye for hours, days on end. He hadn’t seen you since then.
When he was called in for a hostage situation he thought he was prepared. The moment his eyes fell upon your father he knew he wasn’t. At first he begged the heavens that it was your brother that had been taken. It was so wrong of him, he knew that, but at least Alexander knew how to react in these situations. And then your name fell and so did his whole heart. Panic and worry flooded his system along with immeasurable anger and determination. He couldn’t let anybody know so he steeled himself and put on his mask. Your father directed some words at him in particular without knowing that John was internally roaring at him for not looking out for you. For just letting you out of his sight.
His tongue was glued to his palate so he only gave a short nod and a grunt before he turned around to collect his best men for the job. He had to collect himself. It wasn’t your fathers fault. No one could have thought that with your brother out there you´d be a high value target. You were a civilian. But then again that was probably why they chose to take you and not your brother. His blood began to boil and he knew if they found you injured or hell forbid, dead, he would wreak havoc among the bastards that dared lay a hand on you.
When they´d found you, alive and quite literally kicking, his chest had expanded with pride, relief and unbelievable affection. He was grateful that he´d had the chance to quench his bloodthirst when they´d started shooting first.
Now, here you were. Safe with them. And even though the danger wasn’t quite over yet, holding you and you letting him, made him feel more human than he´d had in years. He wanted to shield you from everything that scared you, made you uncomfortable or worried. He wanted to be your source of happiness more than anything. You might´ve been crying into his chest but he knew that some of those tears were relief. The feeling of your hands holding onto him almost desperately made his temperature rise and his determination to see you to safety tenfold.
His arms pulled you in a little tighter, hoping you wouldn’t move back. To his delight, you didn’t. On the contrary. You slowly stopped sniffling before you detached your forehead from him and turned your head, pressing the side of your head to his chest, still holding onto him. One of his hands moved on its own accord, just because it felt so natural holding you. He lay it gently on top of your head, moving his fingers over your hair. He heard you sigh and it was the most beautiful melody he´d ever heard.
As soon as you were safe and sound, he´d make sure….sure that what? He saw you again? He´d ask you out? His insides twisted painfully when he thought about it all. How was this ever supposed to work? You were a civilian. He was a Captain in the military. There were people, civilians in his everyday life that didn’t even know his actual name. Another life had never been in the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t imagine another, could he? The moment they´d all jump out of the heli and you´d fall into your family´s arms, would that be the last time he ever saw you? His heart hurt at that. It hurt.
______´s POV
His warmth. His incredible warmth, the gentleness of his hand on the top of your head and his manly, earthy scent made you feel safer than you´d had in at least a decade. A feeling of content overcame you and you wondered why it was that you could feel something like attraction and excitement in a situation like this. Maybe you shouldn’t care, maybe you should just go with it and let yourself be swapped away for once. You had a feeling that with John, you´d actually make a great choice this time. He was a man of his word, one with the ability to calm and excite you at the same time.
You didn’t want to let go. He was cozy, strong and easily made you feel like everything would be okey. Your heart was doing somersaults when you decided to get just a tad closer. Your hands that were fisted in his shirt by his waist wandered around it now. His chest slightly expanded with a sigh when you settled your arms around his middle comfortably. Something touched the top of your head and you felt like crying all of a sudden. With a feeling of monstrous affection you realised that the Captain had rested his cheek on your head. Breathing in sync you tried to calm your racing pulse and the rushing in your ears.
You stood there for another few moments before John lifted his head. You moved yours as well to look at him. Both your arms around each other not moving an inch. John was smiling but his eyes held and expression you couldn’t quite place. He looked almost….sad. When you looked at him questioningly he schooled his expression, shook his head slightly and smiled a bit wider. Ever so gently he moved one hand and softly touched your cheek. You were just about to explode, forgetting everything. A spell. It had to be a spell he´d cast on you.
“The moment you need a break, you tell me” he whispered. “No feeling bad, a´right?” The rumble in his chest vibrated through you. The corner of your mouth twitched as you nodded once gently. “Thank you” John let go of you, again with that sadness in his eyes and you were quite sure that this time you reflected that same expression.
The day was long and quiet. You made your way down the mountain and going downward turned out to be even more a strain on your muscles than upward. Ghost and John were still in front of you, Soap behind. At one point he stuck up a conversation with you. It turns out the Scotsman was incredibly funny and quite capable to distract your mind from the pain in your muscles. Still, your vision more often than not stuck to John´s back while you got distracted.
Of course Soap noticed and bumped his elbow into your shoulder playfully. “Ya kno´, I´ve never seen the Captain so focused when it comes to a hostage situation” he said with a grin. You looked at him confused. “Usually we take everything seriously of course but a hostage is usually easier to get back than let´s say…a missile.” He shrugged, still grinning. “I-I guess?” you said slowly. Soap´s gaze landed on the Captain as well before he spoke again. “On our way here, he was as focused as he would be on missions way more dangerous than this. If I didn’t know any better, I´d say he was…rigid. Nervous” he gave you a sideways look. “He´s never, never nervous.”
It couldn’t be helped, you whole body flooded with hope. It made you lightheaded. Or maybe it was dehydration, you didn’t know yet. Soap sighed dramatically and gave your already speeding heart another kickstart. “He even bobbed his knee. Never seen him do that either. You sure you don’t know each other from somewhere?” Humming you raked your brain. Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his. That ruggedly handsome face, the stern but laid back attitude. His whole being didn’t really seem to fit into any of the functions you would usually be introduced to people. But then again he was a Captain. And aside from what his rank was and that he was gentle, caring and frankly fucking hot, you didn’t know much about the man. It could be possible.
“I-I really don’t know” you answered truthfully. “It could be possible we´ve been introduced but…” you sighed and felt your face heat up. Soap chuckled next to you with a light “Aha”.
The closer you got to the base of the mountain, the hotter it got. At this point you couldn´t even remember ever having cold feet. Sweat was rolling down your back and temples and the light-headedness slowly became a problem. With the still quite steep cliff next to everyone, it worried you. When you turned what seemed like the last corner, you lifted your head from the path in front of you to look at John and Ghost. They were waiting a few meters ahead but they seemed to sway side to side. You reached out your hand to the right to stabilise yourself as your vision began to swim and nausea rose in your guts. Faintly you heard John call out your name and the next moment Soaps arm was around you. Your legs gave out and you sunk to the ground slowly. Not a second later John was kneeling at your side touching your face worriedly. His blue eyes open wide.
“Damn it, sweetheart. You promised” he said not caring about who heard him. “Ghost! Water.” Ghost handed him a full bottle and without hesitating he opened it and poured half of it down the back of your neck and over your head. It felt incredible and you let out a huge sigh. Next, John took your chin into his calloused fingers and lifted your face towards him. “Open” he grumbled. If you weren’t still slightly delirious it would have turned you on like nobodies business how he said it. You opened your mouth obediently while John held the bottle to your lips. Taking big gulps you felt the nausea fade little by little. Johns gaze was fixed on your lips while addressing the other two men.
“We´ll take a break here. Move into the shade over there. Soap, try to reach Gaz and Nick and see where they are. We´re about to reach the evac point early tomorrow morning.” The moment you were done drinking, John released the breath he was holding quietly and carefully wiped away a stray droplet of water from your chin. The gesture so fond your mouth twitched into a smile.
He moved slightly so you could look at him better and gave you a stern look. Before being able to apologise however he spoke. “Why didn’t you ask for a break? Dehydration isn't something you just walk off.” Again his hand moved to the side of your face and cradled it, his eyes swimming with worry. “I know. I´m sorry. I was about to ask…it overcame me quicker than I thought.”
Without thinking about it you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. You heard him take in a deep breath as he moved his thumb gently over your cheek. “Alright. We´ll take a break here. Come on, let´s get you into the shade.” He leaned over and pulled you upright. Just like the night they rescued you, he practically carried you over to where Ghost and Soap sat before letting you down, sitting next to you. “Sleep a little if you´re tired. We´ve almost got it.” You felt your limbs relax and groaned slightly. Before you knew it, John guided your drooping head onto his shoulder where it rested comfortably as you slept.
The next time you opened your eyes it was already dark. You jolted upright which made your head pound and looked around wildly. “___, calm down. It´s alright.” John was still next to you handing you some more water. “It´s dark already” you groaned. He nodded and gestured for you to drink. “We´re walking the rest of the way tonight. It´s only another four hours. Can you make it?” Dragging in air after you sat the bottle down you looked at him stubbornly. “Yes” you said simply. Looking around you realised you were alone. “Where are Ghost and Soap?”
“We spotted a stream further down. They are down there filling the water bottles. They´ll be waiting for us.” Your face fell again. “We´ve lost so much time” you whispered and leaned back into the stone. John shook his head. His face partially illuminated by the bright moon. “I´d much rather lose time than risk your wellbeing on the last stretch” he said earnestly. You looked at him again. Really looked at him. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper in this light, the edges of his face sharper and the light streaks of grey in his beard standing out more prominently. Neither of you spoke as a kind of understanding dawned in your eyes. His eyebrows rose slightly when he noticed your face getting closer and closer.
John´s POV
It was almost painful to look at the natural beauty the moonlight emphasized on your face. His breath caught in his lungs, his heart a single clump of worry and affection. He wanted to touch your face again, let his fingers feel the soft skin he feared he´d never get to touch again. Unknowingly his head moved forwards as well until your foreheads met and his nose slightly bumped yours. You closed your eyes and John swore for as long as he´d live, he´d remember this feeling. He´d treasure it in his heart until it gave out. He felt your hand on his and took it immediately. Squeezing it tightly he blew all caution to the wind and lifted it to his lips. When he brushed your knuckles he felt you take in a quick breath and saw you open your eyes again. Glittering and solely trained on him he waited with baited breath.
“You know me. Don´t you?” you whispered to him. He grasped your hand tighter again and nodded against your forehead. “Your parents´ spring party two years ago” he whispered. “You wore a pale blue summer dress” he took a deep breath and continued in a playful accusatory tone. “And you ignored me.”
Hearing you giggle made his whole world spin slightly faster. “I ignored everyone at that party” you said gently, your eyes boring into his. “Kind of whish I hadn´t now.” John´s heart nearly gave out at your confession. “I can´t believe I don´t remember you” you whined and again closed your eyes. “Will you stop putting yourself down, darling?” he asked and because he just couldn’t help himself, kissed the back of your hand again.
_____´s POV
The endearment he used made your whole body quiver. What was it about this man? It took every ounce of willpower in you not to move into him and close the gap.
“I´m just saying,” you said and slightly detached from him to look at him more earnestly. “If I´d paid more attention-“ “It doesn´t matter now,___” John said and squeezed your hand. “Besides” he bunched his eyebrows together. “I almost didn’t go to the thing. Those fancy gatherings…they´re not for me.” He smiled at you. The lines around his eyes again so prominent. You reached out and gently let your fingers glide over them. “Yeah” you said with a smile of your own. “I know the feeling.”
A few minutes later, John and you made your way down the rest of the way. To make sure you were okey, he didn’t let go of your hand until the dark shadows of his two team mates appeared. “___” Soap said quietly as you came into view. “You a´right?” You nodded and smiled at him. “I´m good, Soap. Thanks”
Without another word you started you started the last few hours of your journey. You followed Soap while John took his place behind you as you marched on. The moon was just bright enough to let you see where you were going but not much else. Which was ideal since you couldn’t use flashlights. Now that you reached level ground the last few hours went by without a hitch for you.
Eventually you heard John sigh behind you. “That´s it, we just crossed the border. If we were being followed, they wouldn’t be so stupid as to attack here.” Relief flooded your system and your pace picked up. Another half hour later and you could see a huge dark mass in the distance. Something was moving around it. John put his fingers to his ear. “Gaz, we´re 5 minutes out. Ready the heli.”
A few moments later the massive corpus of a helicopter came into view. It sat disguised by the dark and some rogue boulders far off the road. You noticed two other men waiting by the heli. A strapping young fellow jogged over to you. “Glad to see you all in one piece, Captain” he said as he got closer. “Gaz” John said and gave the man a hefty clap on the shoulder. “Well done.” The man named Gaz looked at you with a proud expression. “You too Ms.___. Your parents will be happy to see you unharmed.” You nodded weakly, the end of this nightmare making your legs shake.
John walked over to a second man that was casually leaning against the helicopter, you following him. “Nick” he said with a grateful tone. “Thanks for helping us out. Again.” The men shook hands in a way that you were sure would have crushed not only your entire hand but your forearm as well. “Anytime, Captain” the deep, dark voice of Nick answered with a thick Russian accent.
Suddenly, the mood shifted. You didn’t quite know what happened but all five men at the same time turned their heads towards the horizon behind the casually strewn boulders. Within seconds, Nick jumped into the open helicopter, Soap and Ghost ran over to the boulders, weapons drawn and aiming them at the horizon and John whirled you around to face him. “I need you to do exactly as I tell you.” His tone of voice changing dramatically with no room for disobedience. Fear paralysed you, so you just nodded. He shook his head. “Words.”
“Yes, I will.”
With a roar the helicopter came to life and John´s face was illuminated. An ice bold bucket emptied its contents into your innards. John had a look of fear in his eyes. His face was stone hard, his jaw set but his eyes wouldn’t leave yours. And then, in the distance you saw what they´d heard way before you did. Vehicles. Making their way quickly over to your location. Your eyes snapped back to John´s but before you could say anything, the hands that were holding your shoulders pulled you in as he crashed his lips onto yours.
Shock, warmth and even more panic rushed through your veins as the rotators of the helicopter began to turn faster and faster. John´s lips were insistent for as long as they were on yours. The moment he let go, he looked at you with a guilt. Over the gradually louder becoming sounds of the heli he almost had to yell at you. Regret and something determined in his eyes.
“Two years. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you!”
One more time he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you. You, in all the panic and happiness that you felt kissed him back with all your might.
That was until he let go, looked over your head at Gaz and roared “Get her home, Seargent!” Confusion and hurt were the things you felt most when two strong arms grabbed you from behind and all you saw was John´s retreating back. Readying his weapon and joining Soap and Ghost.
“No! No, what are you doing?! Gaz, let go!! Wait…JOHN!!” Gaz, without even having to struggle hauled you up into the helicopter. You were about to jump out again but the determined soldier held your fighting body back with one arm before the other one hammered against the door to the cockpit three times. “Take-off, Nick!” he yelled into the radio.
“NO! NO TAKE-OFF!” you screamed as loud as you could as tears ran down your face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? THEY´RE STILL DOWN THERE!! YOU CAN´T LEAVE THEM HERE!!” The moment the helicopter left the ground the first few bullets soared through the air, at least five of them hitting it in rapid motions. Gaz pushed you down quickly, laying on top of you until you were high enough in the air and turning direction.
You couldn’t even hear what you were screaming anymore. All you heard were shots from both sides, scattering tires and then…an ear shattering explosion. Heat and the glowing of fire in the distance illuminating your face. It couldn’t be. It was not supposed to end this way!
“JOOOOOOOOOHN!!!”
___________________________________________________________
Sometime into the flight home, your body gave up on staying conscious. Your vocal cords hurting, your chest burning and no more tears to shed, you slipped under.
You only came to when the helicopter touched ground again and the flashing lights of an ambulance illuminated your face. It all happened very quickly. You were hauled onto a stretcher, lights were shone into your eyes and irritation flooded your body. So many voices…one in particular. “___” you heard the deep rumble of your father. He sounded relieved, almost choked up. “___, darling, can you hear me?” You opened your eyes and the memories came flooding back. Adrenalin surged through your body and with surprising strength you grasped onto your fathers wrist. “It´s okey, darling. It´s okey. You´re home. You´re safe” your father said and took your hand. You shook your head trying to speak.
“Stop” your father bellowed to the paramedics that were pushing your stretcher, leaning over you. “What is it, love?” You had some difficulty finding your voice. “John” you whispered. “Ghost, Soap. They´re still…They´re still…” tears ran down the side of your face and something dawned on your fathers face. Still holding your hand reassuringly he yelled for Gaz who came running over, saluting your father.
“Seargent” your father said in an irritated tone. “What happened?” Gaz took a deep breath. “Ambush, Sir. The Captain gave the order to leave them. We were only able to escape because they stayed.” Your father looked at your devastated, pleading face and then over to the Helicopter. Propped up as you were, you saw Nick standing next to it, lighting a cigarette. Your fathers eyebrows narrowed. “Do I even want to know who that is?” he asked sternly. Again, Gaz saluted. “With all due respect, Sir. No, you do not.” Your father nodded once and again looked at you, his expression softening.
“Seargent Garrick” he addressed Gaz who still stood there with an intact salute. “I sent four of my best men on this mission” His eyes narrowed as he gritted out his next sentence. “I expect four of them back!” Gaz swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
Seemingly satisfied with this answer your father jerked his head towards the helicopter and Gaz took off running. You saw how Nick stubbed out his cigarette and jumped back inside. A few moments later, they were off again. A little spark of hope settled in your aching chest. Your father leaned over you again, gently stroking your cheek. “Now” he said in a voice you hadn´t heard from him since you were a small child. “Let´s get you taken care of. Your mother is beside herself with worry.”
It was all bitter sweet. When you arrived at the hospital and wheeled into a fancy one patient only room, you mother jumped from the chair she was sitting in with a wail you´d never heard from her and threw herself onto you. Clawing at your dirty clothes and kissing your dirt smudged forehead you suddenly realised how old she looked. No makeup, hair haphazardly thrown into a bun on top of her head, she looked ages older and somehow more human than she had in a long, long time. Not being able to hold back anymore, you clung to her like a child and cried into her chest.
When your father entered the room all he saw was his wife and daughter in the same bed, cuddling and sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help the smile on his face, took a picture with his phone and sent it to his son. “Call me now” his message read underneath.
The next time you woke up, your mother was gone but in the chair beside your bed sat your father. When you stirred, he immediately perked up and took your hand. “Hey, sweety. How´re you feeling?” he said in a low voice. You smiled slightly. “Thirsty” you rasped. He nodded and got up to pour you a glass of water while you pushed the button on your bed to sit up. You took the glass from him and downed it quickly. “They´ve put an IV in you but I guess more water can´t possibly hurt” he said when he took the glass back from you. You nodded, staring at the IV in your hand.
So many things rushed through your head all at once and you didn’t know how to even begin. Apparently neither did your father. The silence stretched but then, your father spoke in a small voice that you´d never heard from him.
“I´m so sorry, sweetheart. This is all my fault.”
Hot tears welled in your eyes again as you shook your head. “It´s not” you said weakly but he shook his head. “The only reason you were taken is me and my position. I should have looked out for you! I´m so sorry.” You took his hand and squeezed it.
“I didn’t exactly let you” you said sniffling. “I basically ran away, remember?” He nodded, looking at your crumbled sheets. “I always thought my position and the hard work I put behind it would somehow make your and your brothers life easier.” He sighed. “You know, with the reputation and the benefits that came with it. I wanted to open all doors for you.” You nodded. “Along the way however, I didn’t even realise that I closed some of these doors again myself. Because they wouldn’t fit into said reputation.” He again shook his head in disbelieve. “How foolish.”
“Please look at me” you said. Your fathers eyes met yours and something raw catapulted itself out of your chest when you saw his eyes. “Please don’t ever think that neither Alexander nor I don’t know what you´ve sacrificed. We just couldn’t understand it when we got older. You became…distant. And Mum…downright obsessed with perfection. It was hard, especially for Alexander to understand what was asked of us. And, I´m so sorry to say but in my opinion, Alec took the blow.” Your father nodded and looked more ashamed than you´d ever seen him. “He took the blow so I could be myself. So I could rebel. He took on the work, I took on the disappointment.”
“Neither of you have ever been a disappointment” came a small voice from the door. Turning your head you saw your mother walking over to you with tears in her eyes. “It all got out of hand so quickly. Your father climbing the ranks, the social responsibility that came with it. The constant questions and comparisons” she wiped at her eyes. “At one point we thought what society expected of our children, we should expect from out children. We were wrong. So wrong.” She shook her head, her mouth in a straight line. “I think none of us ever forgot the love we have for one another but…priorities shifted and we all got frustrated at some point and we all showed that. All except Alec, of course. He always just tried to…keep it all together” a sob escaped her and she shook her head vehemently.
“No more, I say” she said resolutely and looked at your father challengingly, who nodded with wide eyes, staring at her like he´d just seen her for the first time. “No more of this nonsense. I love throwing parties. But not when the people attending are trying to tell me what to expect from my family. You-” she looked at your father, “have worked yourself to the bone and it paid off. You deserve to rest on your laurels.”
Your father smiled at her fondly. “And frankly” she inhaled a deep breath while you stared at her with an open mouth. “I don’t give a damn if Bernadett What´sHerFace-worthy doesn’t approve of it. She can stick it up her-“
“OKEY, Mum. I think we get it” you said loudly. Little red flecks of rage had formed on your mothers face before she took one look at your dumbfounded face and started giggling. It felt like something huge lifted itself off of your chest. The next moment you dissolved into tears while your parents either kissed your temple or hand. “I wish Alec was here” you hiccupped a few moments later.
“He´ll be here within the next hour” your father said with a look at his watch. You looked at him confused. “I-I thought he was deployed.”
“He was” your mother said with a careful tone. “Oh, darling. You were so exhausted. You-You were out for a while.” Your heart beat faster. “How long?” you asked.
“Two whole days.”
Alexander arrived about an hour later like your father had said. Throwing down his bag he hurried over to you and hugged you close for several minutes. His black hair seemed dull and greasy and his eyes were sunken in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in several days. “You look awful” you said in a light tone. Chuckling he leaned back and nodded. “I know, I know.” He heaved a sigh through his nose. “I haven’t slept much. I was bloody worried about you. Just sitting somewhere, not being able to help. I was so glad when Dad said he sent Captain Price. That man-“ he stopped talking when you started whimpering. “___?” he asked carefully.
“There was an ambush at the evac point” you stuttered out through your sobs. “Gaz and Nick brought me back but John” you took a shaking breath. “John and the others stayed to make sure we could escape.” Alex looked at you and tried to console you. “Oh,___, I´m so sorry you had to see that. The Captain surely didn’t make this decision lightly. But trust me, he´s one of the most capable men I´ve ever-“ “There was an explosion” you whispered and looked at your brother with wet eyes. His face fell and there was nothing more he could say. Instead he took you into his arms again and let you cry into his shoulder.
“By the way” Alexander eventually said to try and take your mind off of the Captain and his fate. “What the heck did you say to Dad? He wrote me a message to call him and didn’t use any exclamation marks.” You rubbed at your eyes and looked at his face. “Told him the hard truth. How it was growing up with him and Mum. We´ve had some…conversations.” Alexander nodded and smiled brightly at you. “It was about time they heard it.” He looked grateful. “Thank you for doing the hard part. I can´t remember the last time Dad pulled me in for a hug.” You shook your head. “You´ve don’t the hard part for years. It was nothing.” Alexander gave you a stern look, almost scolding.
“I don’t want to be that person,___, but I´m not sure you realise. You almost died a few days back. The chances of getting you back were slimmer than you might imagine.”
A cold feeling ran down your back and again you were reminded of the heroes that saved your life. And quite possible sacrificed theirs to do so. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you.
“They can´t be gone” you said with a think voice. “He can´t be gone” You shook your head in defiance. Your phrasing let your brother perk up and sincerely he hoped, that he didn’t give Captain Price too much credit.
You were released quite quickly after you woke up. Other than being exhausted and your feet having seen better days, your body was fine. Your parents brought you home with them for a few days so you wouldn’t be alone. It was a little strange to be in your spotless childhood home that hadn’t exactly invoked the best of feelings in you for the last couple of years.
Now however, your family sat at the ginormous kitchen island together, drinking wine, you mother cooking her favourite Italian dish and no one caring about whether a stray spaghetti fell onto the marble countertop or you father laughed so hard at something Alec said that he spilled wine everywhere before being able to set his glass down.
You looked around the faces of the people you loved. Noticing how your brother started to look like your father more and more and for one, that thought didn’t make you sad or mad. You saw your mother smiling and giggling like she used to and not looking like she constantly smelled something bad. Why hadn’t this been possible before you almost lost your life.
“Promise me something, all of you” you said and looked at all of them. Their attention was on you instantly. “Please let´s not forget that this,” you gestured around your family and yourself. “Could have been us all along. We can´t get back to old patterns.” You looked at your mother who smiled with wet eyes. “I´m not saying I particularly enjoyed being abducted but-“ you had to grin a little. “It showed us all very clearly what was important in the end. Really important. I won´t run anymore.” Pointing at you father you said “You will stop being distant and show us that you love us, damnit.” Your father nodded his head strongly and whispered a ´promise´.
“You” you pointed at your brother. “You will stop trying to be Dad all the time. You´ve already accomplished so much! Slow down.” Alexander gave you a mock salute. “And you” you moved your head towards your mother. “Please for the love of all that is holy, take that stick out of your arse and be your own person. Have your own mind and opinions.” Your mother looked at you proudly before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you close to her chest, kissing your head several times.
That night you lay in bed, body not hurting much anymore, slightly drunk on wine and happiness that your family found each other again. And yet, deep, deep hurt settled in your guts. You had your family back and lost the man you were falling in love with. You knew it the moment he said it. His image and touch never left your mind and you worried and cried each night, wondering if he was alive. If Gaz and Nick had reached him, Ghost and Soap. It had almost been a week since the moment he´d kissed you and you were nowhere near ready to accept that his demise was an option. It scared you more than anything. You decided to ask your father to get some inside information on the matter in the morning.
A knock on your door woke you up. “___” your mothers voice came through the door before it opened and she stuck her head in. “___, darling, please get up. Breakfast is ready.” She was grinning ear to ear and somehow that made you nervous. “What´s going on?” you asked as you got out of bed. “Nothing” you mother sang before she moved away from the door. “Hurry, though” she added before walking down the stairs. You shook your head before getting dressed, checking on your hair and brushing your teeth.
Halfway down the stairs you heard the voices of several men and halted immediately. Your heart was jumping around your ribcage as you tried to make out what they were saying. You heard a Scottish lilt and immediately started thundering down the last steps and ran into the living room. Almost running into the couch you scattered to a halt as soon as you saw the bulking mass of Ghost standing at the bay window and Soap, who had been talking to your brother before you came in. Now, he regarded you with a brilliant smirk and a wink.
Before you could do much else, you sprinted forward and hugged Soap quickly, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. “Aww, no need for tears, now” he said and patted your back affectionately. “You´re okey” you whispered as you let go of him and regarded both soldiers with a tearful laugh. “You´re both alright” you wiped at your eyes. Soap chuckled. “Yep.”
But that would mean…You turned and scanned the room. Through the open French doors you could see into the kitchen but there was only your mother. Your brother, Soap and Ghost were all in the living room with you. Soap seemed to know who you were looking for and pointed his eyes over to the door that lead into your fathers office.
Said door opened right then and there. Your father walked out with a satisfied look on his face. Behind him, the man that had been hunting your good and bad dreams emerged. Time seemed to stand still.
You were only used to seeing him in his gear, tactical vest and all. This version of him wore washed out jeans, boots, a black V-neck sweater and a navy blue beanie. He´d never looked more attractive. His eyes found yours immediately and his first action was to take his beanie off his head before he took several long strides towards you. His arms held you the moment your knees gave out and you started sobbing into his strong chest. Finally being able to fully feel his body underneath your palms you weren’t that surprised to see that the man was actually built like a tank.
Your arms wound around his waist, palms spread across his back while you shook in his arms. “Shhh” he whispered into your hair. “It´s okey, darling. I´m here.” Your sobs became momentarily more intense before slowly dying down. Now, just sniffling, your face was still resting on one of his pecks, you felt his heartbeat strong and quick against your skin and it calmed you down like nothing else. You lifted your head and looked at him. It felt like seeing him again after years of yearning and missing him. Oh, did you miss him.
His eyes were slightly wet and swimming with happiness as he took your face in his hands. “I was so worried about you, are you broken?” he asked in a quiet voice and looked you up and down. You huffed incredulously. “Me, John? Me? You were the one we left there. Being shot at…Are you alright?” He nodded his head gently and leaned his forehead against yours again. It was a feeling like coming home. “I had to make sure you got out of there. That was my first priority. I´m sorry I put you through all that.”
Your hands moved from fisting his sweater, to gently palming his chest and finally snaking your arms around his neck. He smiled lovingly at you and pulled you closer by your waist. “Listen” he said hesitantly before he rushed out “I know this is your parents house and I really don’t want to piss off your father but damn it, my love, I missed you so much I-“
“Kiss me already, you big oaf” you said with a smile before finally pulling him down towards you.
His lips connected with yours in a much gentler way than the first time. Everything seemed better. His lips softer, the air sweeter, the day brighter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his breath on your lips, his beard slightly scratching your skin and his earthy scent in your nose. Playfully he nipped on your lower lip before you giggled and opened your mouth.
Groaning he moved a hand into your hair and let his tongue glide over yours once, slowly, sensually before moving back slightly and panting.
“Fucking hell, baby. There´ll be time for that. I´ll make time for that but maybe not here, yeah?” Your head was spinning but you nodded deliriously and with a dopey smile on your face. It felt like walking on clouds being in his arms. He hugged you close again and you melded into him for what felt like hours. One of his big hands cradled your head, the other one gently raking over your back. John´s nose buried in your hair.
From the corner of your eye you could see your family and friends sending you smiles and some thumbs up. Grinning again you detached from John to tell him what´s been burning on your tongue for days.
“I'm falling for you” you whispered.
John´s eyes went wide and his chest expanded quickly. “You are?” he asked as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
You nodded and stroked his cheek. “I am. I was so scared. I saw the explosion and I thought-I thought-” John looked at you apologetically. “You saw it?” he asked and rubbed your back soothingly. “I´m sorry, darling. That was Soap actually. He´s pretty good at making things go ´KA-BOOM´. Saved our arses.” He kissed your forehead. “We got out. We´re alright. I´m here and you´re with me.” Happily you nodded your head and looked at him with all the love and admiration you felt.
“My hero” you said with a grin. John pulled a face before kissing your lips once more.
“No hero, baby. Just me. Just yours.”
____________________________________________________-
Thank you very much for reading such a long oneshot :D You guys are amazing. Please consider interacting with this post. What helps most is feedback. So comments and reblogs are hugely apreciated.
Thank you all very much <3
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