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#but I'm always a little offended when people say that we can assume his parents were abusive purely because granddad was a caregiver lol
mitskijamie · 6 months
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I'd love to hear more of your thoughts about Roy's family, if you have any.
Honestly, I imagine Roy's parents were okay. Not good but not awful. Sort of bare minimum. I think their household was stable (no abuse or explosive fighting or anything like that) and his parents provided for their children materially, but they were emotionally distant and withheld affection from their children and from each other. They probably should've gotten divorced some time ago, because they clearly don't actually love each other, but it's not like they're getting in screaming matches or anything, so you feel bad saying it. They were never the sort of parents who would cuddle you when you were upset and ask you what was bothering you (which is why Jamie and Georgie freaked Roy out so much), you'd just bottle it up and pretend you were fine until you started to trick yourself into feeling better. Yk
I know most people take his granddad being so heavily involved in his upbringing as a sign that his parents were all over the place and didn't take care of him, but I won't lie, I don't love that assumption. Intergenerational households and grandparents doing childcare are very very common worldwide, especially among families who don't have a ton of money, and we know the Kents were working class, so I always figured Roy's granddad was his daytime caregiver when he was little because his parents had to work and granddad was retired + would take care of him for free. I think his granddad was a lot more emotionally open and affectionate with him than his parents, though, and that's part of why Roy remembers him so so so fondly :(
As an adult, I think Roy has a somewhat functional relationship with his parents, but they're not close and don't see eye to eye on like. Anything. They're conservative and passive-aggressive (because the golden rule of the Kent household is to never address anything! you always bottle it up!) and Roy and Rachel (which is his sister's name. do NOT @ me) can't be in a room with them for more than like 2 hours without going insane.
They're constantly making backhanded comments about Rachel being a single mom, and then they piss and moan about how they never get to see Phoebe, like they have no clue why that would be. They don't approve of Keeley because she's a titty model, but then Roy starts bringing Jamie around and all they can talk about is how much they loved Keeley. They're "heartbroken" that Phoebe doesn't have any cousins and want to know when Roy is going to get married, but not to Jamie, because they think he's just looking for a "sugar daddy." Exhausting
Roy talks to them on the phone once every couple of months and sees them only on holidays. Holiday dinners are always followed by a 4 hour debrief with Rachel and like 3 bottles of wine
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cressthebest · 2 months
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 21
chapter 36:
1. “It's been so long. Oh, there you are, here you are, hi,” *deep breath* AHHHHHHHHH
2. 😭😭😭 “Remus keeps a firm grip on him and turns around to promptly leave, which is probably a little rude, considering that the others are here and may wish to greet him, but he honestly can't bring himself to care about that right now” i would expect nothing less
3. WOLFSTAR REUNION!!!! I AM IN SHAMBLES!
4. “On the way, James glances back with a grin, internally wishing Sirius all the good things, because no one deserves them more.”
oh. wow. that’s such a soft line. it’s literally making me melt
5. “Remus could not be more in love if he tried.” shit shit shit shit sobbing. wolfstar deserves the world
6. “He does love Sirius, though. Loves him dearly, with every defiant bone in his body. This man, who doesn't even realize the importance of what he's just done by giving Remus an unopened envelope. Remus, who owns nothing. Remus, who has nothing. Remus, who is not granted privacy or freedom for anything like this, for anything at all.”
i am on PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION and i am BAWLING my eyes out as silently as i possibly can. y’all don’t understand the restraint i have right now to not loudly sob
7. the LETTER has me CRYING
8. THE SECRET MESSAGE
9. oh, okay. remus killed an auror/greyback. it’s honestly not as bad as i thought it would be. also, i love the lily and remus duo. they’re so iconic
10. i LOVE LOVE LOVE that zar made a point for sirius to have the discussion that his demisexuality is NOT because of trauma and he’s always been that way. it’s beautiful <3
11. “”You can ask Regulus and James; I walked around for a solid month making everyone call me Mr. Sirius Macdonald."” STOP PLSS THATS SO FUNNY
12. SIRIUS JUST TOLD REMUS HE LOVED HIM!!! this is literally so sweet
13. andjskjdksksjsms the authors note:
“sirius, internally: a guillotine could not sever the head im about to give this man. good for them 😌”
chapter 37:
1. i’m starting a gofundme to get regulus a balcony
2. "”Sirius doesn't let me drink," James replies flatly.
"Well, don't say it like that, James. You make it sound like I'm a strict parent, or a controlling spouse," Sirius grumbles. "And I do let you drink, in moderation, when you're in a safe environment and in a good mental state. Don't forget to mention that you only let me drink within those same rules."”
i bet james is upset with the rules he made for sirius so long ago. came back to bite him in the ass
3. describing sirius as “ruffled like an offended bird” has done wonders for my mental health
4. james, remus, and sirius are all hanging out and i am beyond angry that peter doesn’t get to share this moment
5. pandora is such an angel and doesn’t deserve this pain
6. pandora and reg friendship >>>>>>>>>
7. their outfits for the night!! every last one of them is slaying so hard
8. “There's a tense moment where a group of murderers all stare around at each other, not opposed to adding a few more names to their lists. Oh, and Pandora is there, too, startlingly calm despite this.”
yaxley needs to shut his fucking mouth and stop implying that sirius will fuck his way through issues
9. “"You know what they'll assume we're doing."
"Running away," Regulus mutters.
James sighs in exasperation and fond amusement. "No, Reg. Fucking. They'll assume we've snuck off to find a corner to go fuck in."”
😭😭😭😭😭 i love reg. he’s so ready to leave
10. jegulus is getting their shit together and improving. i’m so glad
11. “James swallows. "They're—they destroy things now, when they never did before. They're rough sometimes. Bloody."
"Warm," Regulus counters, pressing another kiss to James' shaking fingers. "Steady. Strong. These hands hold the people you love. These hands care for them. They're gentle. Tender."”
this is love. what they have is love. it’s messy and broken and so difficult, but they’re trying and it’s love
12. and once again we have wolfstar my true loves ☺️☺️
i feel like nows a good time to add to respect bizzarestars’ wishes to not have the fic reposted or reuploaded a different site. i can’t remember his wishes about bookbinding, but respect those as well.
thank you, lovely people
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donnerpartyofone · 11 months
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When I read the Marie Kondo book, I was struck by her remark that people who cannot keep their dwellings tidy have often lacked a strong sense of ownership in their lives, of their own places and possessions. This made perfect sense to me; I mean to some degree she's talking about people whose parents always cleaned up after them, which is certainly not my case, but it's definitely true that I have never had a well-developed sense of anything being mine. Even when I was little I was intensely aware that all material things were just breaking down and slipping through my fingers, and maybe I shouldn't get too attached to anything because the heartbreak would kill me. Also I never felt like a real authority in my own life, as if my only importance was relative to other people (specifically, whether I was annoying or inconveniencing or even disgusting someone like, say, my mother). Also the world simply seemed overwhelming and like a place where I would never have authorial power of any kind.
Keeping my room clean was a relentless and unresolved problem until I finally left home for college. In college (a place I really didn't belong) I was neat to the degree that I didn't want to offend my roommates, although I sometimes had roommates who were just as depressed and disorganized as I was, then I was really out of hand. When things got seriously bad for me mentally, I took a semester off in Portland, Maine. There I kept my room like a monk's cell, sweeping the floor every day, making my bed, and generally showing a lot of respect for my surroundings. I loved Portland and although I didn't live alone, it often felt like I did, and I also didn't have any real friends, which may have given me a rare feeling of sovereignty that resulted in my increased organization and cleanliness. When my family visited, they expressed so much astonishment at the state of things that it made me feel embarrassed and angry. It's not great to be told so emphatically that no one can even imagine you taking care of anything, and that it seems like some sort of absurd miracle when you do.
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I was pretty messy again when I moved to New York City. Renting crummy apartments all the time doesn't really inspire feelings of respectful stewardship, although I did vacillate between extreme disorder and urgent cleaning episodes. I had never imagined myself in NYC, but I didn't know what else to do with myself besides move in with my dad for a while and try to figure things out. At least I hadn't gone home to my grimy, weird upstate home town, somewhere I never quite belonged; of course I'm marked deeply by the place just because I grew up there, but even among friends I could never really be myself without people assuming I was "just kidding" or something. Some people were very upset that I drifted off on my own, even years later, which I could find complimentary, but the message I got was that I must have thought I was too good for the town and everyone in it and so I went to "live my dreams" in the big city, which is really not a fair or accurate description of what happened to me at all. I never developed a feeling of patriotism for my home, and I also never felt patriotic about New York City; it was just easier for me to be there, at least in some dimensions.
A guy I'll call my ex-boyfriend for convenience, even though it's not a very good description of the relationship (one of my best friends in high school who I tried, disastrously, to date during college before we inevitably drifted apart), was always passionate about our home. I think when you have had a reasonably happy childhood and your teenage years were an exciting daily adventure, then it's easy to love where you grew up. I recently saw a Facebook post from him describing a big civic event (festival? with maybe a political angle?) with the most profound affection for all of the townsfolk, it was beautiful to see the place through his eyes for a moment even though I never experienced what he felt the whole time I lived there. On the other hand, I still keep in touch with one like-minded friend from high school, and although she also moved away she often sends me news items from our home about, like, bullies we used to know who became local politicians and are now in hot water for corruption, or like the major crisis that struck when a gigantic murder of crows came to roost and painted the entire town in bird shit for months on end (I actually don't even know whether this is over or not). Now THAT'S the place I know.
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One day I was saying something to my father about my chronic sense of placelessness, and he said, "I know, you'd probably be happy just living in a bucket." I had repeated this to the ex-boyfriend, and he laughed out loud and made a physical gesture that suggested me coiled up in the bottom of a bucket like a snake, glaring up defensively. STAY OUT OF MY BUCKET! I just remembered this and repeated it to my husband, who also laughed out loud at the accuracy of this assessment. It's nice to feel understood, to know that multiple generations of men in my life automatically understand my bucket-dwelling quality.
My husband also moved to the city after school, and he is immensely proud of his many years in Brooklyn. He has a big map of the borough covering one thigh. He knows lots of different neighborhoods well, votes religiously, respects the older generations of our neighbors, cares what happens to the people here. I admire his depth of feeling, even though I can only relate to the part about respecting your surroundings and the people who were there first. The only time I was struck with a powerful sense of belonging was when we moved in together on the border of Red Hook, and began to explore that neighborhood. Red Hook is unusual because it is inaccessible by subway, which is surely part of why it has such a distinct personality. It's basically a tough, gritty little port town, shady and overgrown, with an extremely diverse population that intermingles working class families with rugged artist types. The first time I ever saw it, I was taking a bus at night to some other unfamiliar part of town, and I could see into the open doors of bars and restaurants on the main drag; it looked so beautiful to me, like some forgotten little burgh somewhere that could not possibly have been part of Brooklyn. I probably knew right then, more than a decade ago, that I wanted to live there. When my husband and I moved in next door (around ten years ago in April), I'll never forget the first day we decided to explore the place. We found ourselves sitting in a bar converted from an old bait shop (I once saw someone reach into the mouth of a mounted bass and pull out a cigarette; he explained that it was like a take-a-penny leave-a-penny community thing, and "You never know what brand you're gonna get!") that was covered from floor to ceiling in taxidermy and obscene tchotchkes. I remember sitting by the window staring out at the dusty main drag and passively thinking, "I'm home. I belong here." We eventually had our wedding reception there, having been given brilliant advice on where to have it by the owner of that same bar.
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I know that part of the reason I like it so much is that it does actually remind me of my home town, which is extremely perverse of me. The grit, the pleasant shabbiness, the mix of blue collar stoicism and starving artist-ness. It's all so familiar, and sometimes you can become attached to things that are familiar even if they are not connected originally to happiness. They're part of what you know, what you're an expert of, what made you into yourself. I would never move back home (I just told my husband that if I had to for some dire reason I would immediately turn into a scary witch on the outskirts of town), I don't think it was a "great place to grow up" based on my own experience, but now that I have the distance I appreciate it in some way, a way I can only call "perverse". Apparently it has begun to turn into a chic, arty getaway for NYC expats, and every time I run into someone in the city who explains to me how "cool" the place is, I want to turn inside out. It's untrue! Becoming "cool" to those people is the least cool thing that could possibly happen to it! Suddenly I want to rush to its defense and shout down all these accusations of boho hepness. If you think that town is "cool" you're wrong, and you don't belong there, and you should STAY THE FUCK OUT. (I mean don't actually stay out, I'm sure you're great for the local economy, but you're still WRONG)
Anyway. Finally Red Hook is about to become my home for-real. Ever since we signed the lease, it has been calling to me, I want to go there every day even though I don't have anything to do and I'll soon be there all the time. I think I'll live pretty differently once I'm there, with my newfound feeling of ownership. Now I just have to figure out where I can get one of the bumper stickers that we saw the first time we visited, at the famous key lime pie place that was covered in signs and stickers featuring ornery slogans such as:
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WELCOME TO RED HOOK
YOU MADE IT. NOW--GIT!
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Hi! I came across your blog a couple of days back when I was going through the rwrb tag on tumblr and the perspectives you're sharing were new to me. I have a couple of questions and I promise I'm coming from a place of genuine curiosity and desire to learn, and not to attack you. There's a good chance I might inadvertently say something offensive because, tbh because of the places I've lived in, I have not had a chance to interact personally with any Jewish people. So my ignorance is probably, I admit, shamefully high. For eg, till I read your posts, I did not know about the existence of 'ethnic religions'. So a) sorry in advance if I offend you, b) I hope it's okay that I'm asking these questions. I did some reading over the past few days about Judaism and ethnoreligious groups. My understanding so far is - 1) Judaism accepts conversions 2) Children of mixed marriages can be considered Jewish, based on different rules for different denominations 3) Jewish people can have different racial and ethnic backgrounds (I assume this is a result of mixed heritages, conversions, non-traditional family structures, etc.) After I learnt all this, I'm a bit confused about the following - 1) Why is the assumption that the character Nora's ethnicity/appearance is what would 'traditionally' be associated with Judaism? Is there some mention in the book that she doesn't have African-American heritage? It's been a while since I did a thorough reading so it's very possible I've forgotten such a detail. 2) Do we know that the actor playing Nora is definitely Christian? Has she publicly stated any religious beliefs? Or is it an assumption? I'm wondering if there's a chance that one or both of the actor's parents are Jewish? Or maybe she's Jewish by descent but maybe doesn't practice the religion (my understanding is such people are still accepted as Jewish)? 3) Unless the actor has definitely stated that she practices another religion and is not Jewish by birth, is the expectation that a person has to be publicly open about their religious beliefs or ethnicity (since that's not always obvious by appearance)? If yes, I'm wondering if that sort of expectation is fair? Is it not the right of each person to share that information if and when they want to? I know there are plenty of people who do acknowledge this publicly, and then proceed to champion others of similar backgrounds, but maybe not everyone is in a position to be open about such information when they could be discriminated against, especially at a younger age/level of experience? Is it not unfair to expect them to speak publicly about this? (I have to admit that for this point, I'm thinking mainly from the perspective of sexuality and recent events like the pressure on Kit Connor, but I feel being open about religion/ethnicity is on the same level as sexuality - it's upto each individual). I'd love to know your thoughts about all this, and sorry again if I've said something ignorant/offensive. I promise I'm just trying to educate myself.
Hi!! Thank you so much for your ask! It’s always interesting to me to hear from people who don’t know about Jewish stuff or have never met many Jews, so welcome to the blog! I’m so glad I was able to spark some intrigue.
First, you educated yourself because you were curious. That’s awesome and not many people would do the same. So you deserve credit for that. Researching and asking questions to learn stuff is what I’m all about.
I’m gonna touch on what you said first and then move onto your questions. You are totally right with everything you researched. I just wanna elaborate on them a little more because they’ll help with answering your questions.
1. We do totally accept converts. I don’t actually know much about it besides it being a long/hard process because I’m Jewish from birth, but I know I have some followers who are converts who can talk more about that if you’d want them to. When someone converts in they become (in the eyes of many branches of Judaism) as Jewish as any other. Their kids would be Jewish by birth and they themselves would be seen as having joined the tribe.
2. Children from a marriage when one parent is Jewish and the other isn’t depends on a few factors. I’ll run through each. If the child’s mom is Jewish, the child is Jewish. The Jewishness is passed from mom to baby (take that patriarchy). If that child’s father is the Jewish one, then in the eyes of Reform (the only branch I can personally speak on, but also the one that’s the most chill and progressive so this is likely the bare minimum), the kid is Jewish as long as they’re raised exclusively (or nowadays at least very firmly) Jewish. Meaning, the family isn’t totally ignoring the Jewish side. In theory, the child would be raised 100% Jewish by said family to be seen as Jewish, but in practice a mixed-family would have Christmas and stuff, which is normal. But the key point is that the Jewishness is not ignored or avoided. It’s acted on. It’s not just shelved away. Like the kid wasn’t Baptized, they attend Friday night services, or the kid went to Hebrew school. It’s an active involvement. TLDR: Dad is Jewish, kid has to be raised Jewish.
3. Yes. Jews can be of any race. There is such a wide diversity and it’s honestly one of the things I really like about being Jewish. And it’s because you can have a race and an ethnicity at the same time. Someone can be Black and Jewish, or Asian and Jewish. One doesn’t take away from the other. It adds on. I mean, you could have multiple of each I guess. You could be the child of an Afro-Latino and Asian couple who’s Jewish, that’s like a whole bunch. And it’s awesome. It’s welcomed.
Okay question time. This is already so long haha sorry about that.
1. Nora’s “appearance” and if there was anything said about her being/not being African-American. In the book CMQ did use more stereotypical descriptions of Nora, and in an image she drew of Nora, she did have more stereotypical Jewish attributes. I’ll say this is due to Casey, probably much like yourself, not having much exposure to the wide world of Jews. They come from a highly religious background where on the daily, likely, they weren’t exposed to many if any Jews. So, any Jew to Casey would’ve been seen on TV or online or talked about, and for the most part, people tend to describe or show Jews more stereotypically (either kindly or… not). So Casey used what they knew when creating Nora. To Casey, Nora had paler skin, dark curly hair. She was Jewish because Casey wrote that she was. Literally “Nora is Jewish” was what they wrote. So, the answer to your question is that the appearance was written in by Casey, but that doesn’t mean in the movie she couldn’t be African-American. Like I said, you can 100% be Black and Jewish (that would’ve been some great rep for the very underrepped part of the Jewish community) the only issue with that for RWRB, is that they forgot that second part.
2. How do we know Rachel isn’t Jewish? We know with 100% certainty that Rachel isn’t Jewish. I have previous posts about this, but I’ll try to give you a very short rundown.
- In an interview her mom said she (Rachel) was volunteering a lot with their church.
- They are an active church going family. I’ve been told by someone who attended the same church that the family would go often. This is supported with the fact that: Mom worked for the church. Sister worked for the church. Grandparents worked for the church. Aunt on father’s side works for another church. (All this was found online by googling combinations of Rachel’s name and church, Christian, etc. All on the first page when looking.)
- Instagram: Picture of young RH (Rachel Hilson) at a Christmas Eve dance and then a lot more of her and the fam celebrating all the Christian holidays.
- During the peak of the Kanye stuff, RH posted an “I support my Jewish friends” story, but didn’t say anything else on that post. Basically saying she isn’t Jewish but supports them, and the caption on that actual post itself that she reposted said “If you don’t know what to say, say this.” She still never said a word herself about stopping antisemitism.
- Rachel has tweeted and Instagramed stuff that was very obviously Christian focused. Such as talk about the holidays, the Lord’s Prayer, etc.
That’s not all, but it’s all I can remember off the top of my head. I have a longer post where I say all this and more. But it’s clear that Rachel wasn’t raised Jewish religiously since her family isn’t, and she’s not Jewish ethnically since, again, her family isn’t. I don’t think she actively practices any religion now, but that doesn’t take away that she’s not Jewish. As far as her being of Jewish descent, if she does have any sort of ancestry, it’s not in her immediate history. Both sides of grandparents raised their families non-Jewish. I’ve researched this topic of Jewish descent myself, because I was curious what the thoughts were from others. I asked if people considered someone Jewish, if they were actively not Jewish and it hadn’t been that way in at least the better part of a century. The very conservative Jews think you’re never not a Jew, if your relative was Jewish in the 1300s but converted and nobody practiced or related to being Jewish ever again, you’re still a Jew. Most people believe that if you’re actively not Jewish, and from an actively non-Jewish family, and in no way/shape/form consider yourself Jewish… Then you’re not. It depends on how much of the Jewish laws you want to consider, but for a lot of people, having a Jewish relative from a century ago, but never actively being Jewish since and instead being a part of another religion who believes Jew are “unsaved”… You’re just not Jewish. You can convert back and you may have an easier time because you have some Jewish heritage. But again, just having some Jewish heritage doesn’t make you Jewish. It would be the same way if I said that I’m Portuguese. My family hasn’t lived in Portugal since the 1500s, but it’s my ancestry. Does that make sense? God that was long, sorry.
3. Rachel has explicitly said and shown she’s not Jewish. And I guess technically her mom did too in Rachel’s interview. It’s clearly known that she isn’t, and she doesn’t pretend to not be. So for the Rachel part of the question, she was already openly non-Jewish. For the second part, I don’t think an actor has to express religious beliefs. Religion is a personal thing, yet just about every single actor in the 21st century anyway is pretty open about it. And I mean, just by way of social media, they’re not going on talk shows to discuss it, but they’ll post a holiday picture or they’ll thank Jesus in an award speech or they’ll post something along those lines. And since the majority of people tend to belong to Christianity (it’s the global big one, not a surprise), things like that are pretty normal. There are plenty of articles online that talk about the religions and ethnicities of actors. Articles from reputable places not the dailymail type of ones. An actor is never forced to admit anything about their religion, but they’ll do it on their own. Ethnicity a lot of the time is visible— NOT all of the time, of course, but for many, they can’t not reveal that. Or it’s on their Wiki somehow. Actors doesn’t have to reveal their ethnicity either, but, and here’s a trade secret between you and me, actors who are open with their ethnicities get more roles. This is because when casting something a casting director might be like “I want someone of ******” and if an actor has that background, they can have that role. Keeping things a secret means less work. I’m not talking about sexuality, that’s a different story. Sexuality is inherently personal. Ethnicity is something people can either see, or it’s on public paperwork like the census, or it’s tied to your religion, or you have no reason to not say it. Discrimination for ethnicities exists, but for actors specifically, it’s a plus not a minus, especially for the already famous ones, because then they can be used even more and bring more money to your production. So, again, sexuality is different. Actors will already be open about their religions or ethnicities without even really thinking about it, it’s not as personal as sexuality. Especially for famous actors like Natalie Portman or Joey King or Lisa Edelstein, who if they say they’re Jewish and they then face discrimination, they’d be proof of that, which there isn’t. There is for non-famous ones, but that’s when your ethnicity shows and people don’t want that, but you can’t hide that.
- religion, people post and talk about like it’s no big deal.
- ethnicities are either visible or people use them for their own gain, or they don’t mind sharing.
Okay that was all really long. Comment, DM, or send another ask if you need anything clarified or you have any more questions. And don’t worry, nothing you said was offensive lol There’s a big difference between someone learning and possibly saying something untoward (which you didn’t) and someone being actively offensive. So you’re all good there!
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deathwishy · 3 years
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x MARVEL CROSSOVER x
Marinette knew that Tom Dupain wasn't her biological father. Nonetheless, she loved him and he loved her. He married her mother when she was two and have been inseparable ever since.
On the other side, her biological father was a prick.
He first came to visit her after she developed a ... rather interesting set of abilities. She was five when that happened. Her mother had somehow contacted him and, even though he doubted it, he came.
It is safe to say that he was beyond shocked when he saw that Marinette was his spitting image, not counting the blue eyes. She had a mischievous smile and sharp eyes, carrying herself like royalty, worthy of the title of the daughter of the god of mischief.
That day, Loki found out he had a demigoddess daughter.
While he was reluctant at first, the little girl grew on him. He visited at least twice a month, mainly to help her control her powers but also to let her know that he actually cared about her, to ensure that he wasn't with her like his father was with him. No other Asgardian knew about Marinette and he would like to keep it that way. There was no need for his brother of father to swoop in and ruin everything.
As the years passed their bond became unbreakable. Marinette still thought that Loki was a prick and an idiot at times but she wouldn't have it any other way. Life was boring anyway, why not sprinkle it with a little bit of mischief?
When she became Ladybug, he knew. He called out Tikki as soon as he stepped in her room and her parents were out of hearing range.
"Tikki, you can come out. You should know better by now."
Marinette was dumbfounded when the goddess came out from behind some books, with a pout and with her arms crossed.
"I knew it. Trixx did say that you came to Midgard and Marinette looks like a miniature female version of yourself."
"I'm actually surprised the guardian gave her the Ladybug miraculous. I would've guessed she would have been a better fox."
"She is a very good match for me too. Her soul is a creative one, but yes, she would be a perfect fox."
"Um... Can I get in the loop too?"
The two gods turned to her. Marinette had her arms crossed, tapping her foot on the floor. Loki gave her a sheepish smile.
"I am a God, Marigold, I do know the other gods too."
The day passed talking with the two deities about all sorts of things, Tikki especially scolding him for the New York disaster, Marinette joining her. It happened before she was born so even if he changed it was still a horrible thing
"Look, daddy issues are a pain to deal with. I was very angry."
"Dad, it's no excuse to be an asshole."
"I know." Loki rolled his eyes then grinned. "But what's this I'm hearing about from Tikki about a boy?"
Marinette flushed, glaring at the offender, now munching on a cookie, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She was shaking her head and vigorously gesturing with her hands.
"Nope. I'm not talking with you about this and, Odin forbid, if I see you around him I'll cut your macaron supply."
Loki only raised his hands in surrender, laughing heartedly. He wouldn't dare cross his daughter, so he swore, between tears of laughter, that he would keep his distance.
"But if he breaks your heart I'll throw him in Jotunheim."
                                                         ...
A few years later, when Lila came around he knew. There was no mistaking the dimming of the fire in her soul. He could see that she didn't want to talk about it by the way she was dodging the subject so he had to take the matter in his own hands.
He shapeshifted into a horsefly and flew after her when she went to school. It took a lot of his power to hide from Marinette's sight but if was worth it. Now he knew why she started closing in on herself.
Loki could admire a good lie. After all he was the god of trickery, lies and deceit. But this girl spouting off the worst lies he ever heard. Not only were they ridiculous, they were also completely devoid of any drop of truth. That was the base of any good lie, and she was lacking it entirely. What confused him more what that some of her classmates believed her. Only a handful others didn't seem to believe her, one of which was a blond boy that looked at the leech, glued to his hand, with disgust. By his aura Loki assumed he was the holder of the Black Cat.
He confronted Marinette when she came back from school. Some of the lies were concerning, they were hurting his daughter and he couldn't let it fly. He assumed the harpy was set on Marinette because she wouldn't buy her lies. That was not surprising, she could see even though his best lies.
"I know, Marigold."
Marinette knew what he meant. She inhaled deeply and looked around.
"Can we go somewhere else, outside of Paris?"
The furrowed his brows, getting more concerned by the second. He couldn't read her in that moment. He could read most people like an open book, but that was his daughter. She knew how to hide things from him.
"Yes. Tell your parents, we don't want to concern them."
After she told her parents that she would go with Loki on a short trip, he opened a portal to a high rooftop over a city. She could feel the darkness of it, potent and corrupting. She figured that was why her father would bring her there, no one would notice them. As soon as the portal closed, she broke down. She hugged him, crying into his chest.
"I'm so tired, dad. The responsibility of Ladybug, Lila and her lies, half of my class turned against me, Hawkmoth just sending out akuma after akuma, it's just so much."
He let her cry, hugging her closely and patting her head. Even after all these years he didn't know how to properly comfort his daughter but it was something he actively was working for.
"But I assume you still don't want me to help?"
"The Avengers or The Justice League would notice if you do something. I managed to keep them away, for the time being, but I doubt they would hesitate coming if they heard that you came into a highschool, knives flying after a teenage girl or if you burnt down half of Paris searching for Hawkmoth."
She sighed, sitting on the edge of roof.
"I can handle it, I think. It's hard but I can manage it. I have Chat Noir and the others, we will succeed."
"You know that I will always be by your side if you need me, right?"
"Of course, dad." She hugged him once more, not letting go for some time.
When she calmed down, she asked him to get them to Paris.
"Dad, where was that? I've never felt a more malicious feeling to a place in my entire life."
"Gotham City. That place holds a centuries long curse."
Marinette nodded then hugged her father one more time before he left. She then went on her balcony, sketchbook and laptop in her hands. The afternoon sun was providing perfect lighting for sketching. She set aside the sketchbook for the moment, opening the laptop. She heard about Gotham from Alya when she was gushing about the vigilantes. She wasn't especially interested about them so she listened politely but forgot everything the next day.
Gotham was dubbed the Crime Capital, which was not surprising. The maliciousness surrounding the city was overwhelming, even if she was there for only a few minutes short of an hour. She could only imagine what that could do to the locals. A meeting with Fu after her patrol that night was mandatory.
Apparently he knew about the situation in Gotham. An old friend kept him updated. He confessed that he wanted to talk with her about it but decided to tell her when she was prepared. Fighting that kind of corruption would be hard and it would take years. They decided to put a pin in it and deal with it after they defeated Hawkmoth. Marinette did NOT need this on her plate now.
                                                          ...
Things got a little complicated when Wonder Woman decided to drop by. It was night, just a few hours after an akuma attack. Ladybug had to patrol on her own, Chat Noir was held back in his civilian life. She caught Ladybug on the Eiffel Tower, just when she was finishing her round.
"Ladybug."
"Wonder Woman. I wasn't aware that you would be coming by."
"I apologize, but this is important. Your presence is required at a summit between The Avengers and The Justice League. Some discussions will be about the situation in Paris and as the city is in your jurisdiction, you are invited to attend."
Marinette felt like she didn't tell the whole truth but agreed, under the condition to bring Chat Noir too. They were a team.
Loki wanted to come along but Marinette shot the idea down quickly. The was a chance that Thor would notice and everything would go south very quickly. She didn't need an international incident on her hands. The others didn't trust Loki but they were civil with each other after the brothers made amends and he helped them a couple of times. Still, she didn't think they would appreciate Marinette bringing an unauthorized guest.
                                                           ...
A few weeks later they were in a secret base in the Alps. After she got the coordinates of the location she used the horse miraculous to get there. They were fairly early, only a few members of both teams being present. Batman with his team, Thor, Wonder Woman, Black Widow, Winter Soldier and Green Arrow.
Batman was the first one to greet her, soon after she closed the portal.
"Tikki, Kaalki, divide."
The horse kwami landed in her hand, where a sugar cube was waiting for her. She then nestled on top of her head. She slid the glasses there too, for easy access, just in case.
"Ladybug, glad you could come." Batman greeted her cordially. She shook his outstretched hand.
"Of course. After all, I was said this was concerning us."
Before Batman could say anything, a man dressed in black, with a blue bird symbol on his chest jumped in front of her, grinning like a child.
"I can't believe it, you are a real magical girl!"
Ladybug took a step back, blinking, a little shocked by the grown man's reaction.
"Tt. Nightwing, be professional."
"Yeah Wingman, you're going to scare the little Pixie."
"Ignore them, they are idiots." Said one of them, coming beside her. She identified him as Red Robin, one of Batman's... Associates? It felt wrong to call him a sidekick. That would be Robin.
"Red Robin. The idiots there are Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin."
"Pleasure meeting you." She smiled to them warmly. Robin narrowed his eyes, looking at her head.
"What is that?" He asked, taking a step closer to take a better look. Kaalki flew in his face, indignated.
"I'm a goddess, you oaf." Robin took a step back, hands on his katana, shocked by the little goddesses reaction. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly tamer. "Are you famous?" Robin was sputtering, clearly not prepared for the change in her demeanor.
Red Hood burst out laughing.
"Fucking hell, his face. I've never been more grateful for the camera in my helmet."
"Kwami don't show up on camera, but his face definitely will." Chat Noir pointed out. He went beside Ladybug, up until then scanning the compound. "I'm Chat Noir, the fabulous purr-tner of Ladybug, at your service." He made a mock bow, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Ladybug, Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin groaned.
"Not ANOTHER ONE!"
"Tt. I can't handle two of them. I'll inevitably going to break the no killing rule."
"Um, what's going on?" Ladybug turned to Red Robin, who was grimacing.
"Nightwing." He said, giving her a pitying look.
"Oh, come on, it can't be that claw-ful." Retorted Nightwing. Chat Noir lit up like a Christmas tree.
"My lady, see. I was sure I was feline a fellow paw-nner nearby."
"Kill me." Ladybug and Red Robin said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.
As more heroes were arriving, Ladybug introduced herself to each of them. She tensed a bit when Thor came beaming at her.
"Ah! I haven't seen the miraculous for centuries! I am not really that familiar with the Chinese Miracle Box but I did encounter a wielder of Trixx."
She smiled tightly listening to his encounter with Fylja. She knows from her father about her, a trickster just like him, who managed to seduce Thor and steal Mjolnir and hide it. Thor decided to omit that detail. He liked the young hero but something seemed oddly familiar about her.
When Aquaman came, he looked very uncomfortable with his proximity to Chat Noir. He was cordial but kept his distance after finishing introductions. Chat Noir did tell her once that Plagg said that he was the one who sank Atlantis. It was a real story, apparently.
Ladybug preferred the company of Red Robin. They had a lot of things in common, from mutual interests to similar experiences as heroes. He asked a lot of questions without being invasive or trying to find out things about her civilian life and actually seemed interested about her answers. She actually blushed when Nightwing called them cute. She could see with the corner of her eyes how Chat Noir was wiggling his eyebrows but swooped up the other boys when they started teasing them.
"Everyone is here. Only the official members of the Justice League and the Avengers are allowed, as well as Ladybug and Chat Noir. The rest will stay here." Wonder Woman announced, leaving the rest of the young heroes pouting and protesting.
Ladybug turned to Red Robin and gave him a wave.
"See you after."
"Definitely." He grinned, making her blush.
Chat Noir came beside her, smiling knowingly.
"At least you're not a stuttering mess this time."
"Shut up you alley cat, that was four years ago."
"So you do like him." He smiled even wider. Ladybug blushed furiously, punching him in the ribs. He only giggled.
"Nightwing and Red Hood owe me 50 dollars."
"You're unbelievable."
All the heroes were seated at a circular table, everyone having an assigned seat. Even Ladybug and Chat Noir, their symbols gleaming brand new on the backs of the black chairs.
"The summit begins. We are now gathered here to discuss the Paris situation." Superman began, opening a slide on the projector.
Ladybug narrowed her eyes. It became obvious that they called the summit just for this. They were trying to take control. She clenched her fists, but didn't say anything. She hoped this wasn't what it looked like. She put her hand on Chat Noir's shoulder when he looked like he wanted to say something. She squeezed twice. ' I got this.'
"Ladybug, Chat Noir, it's been four and a half years since Hawkmoth has been active and so far we haven't seen much progress. The akumas seem to become more powerful and aggressive and the damage to Paris greater each time. We think you might be over your heads."
"What we are trying to say," Batman stood up, glaring at Superman for his lack of tact, "is that the situation is becoming increasingly difficult and we feel the need to intervene. We know that you are young, let us help you."
"You are kids, we can tell. We thought that because of the nature of the miraculous you will be able to neutralize the threat in due time, seeing as it's the same type of magic." Added Captain America.
"We trusted that you could handle it, as you said, but some of us already have doubts." Iron Man said, crossing his arms.
"Your miraculous might not be enough this time. But that's ok. We want this to end as much as you do." Professor Banner added, looking at them like he was explaining to children why they couldn't cross the street when the traffic light was red.
Most of the heroes didn't notice the way the two young heroes narrowed their eyes, faces darkening, but some, mostly those who knew the power of the miraculous, did. Aquaman was uneasy, a sense of foreboding dawning over him, Wonder Woman looked like she didn't know what her peers were going to say. She stood still, but tense, like preparing for an attack. She knew they were somewhat right, but that wasn't the way to help them. Green Lantern was leaning in his seat like he wanted it to eat him. Thor looked around the table, damning every one of them present. They were going to get them killed. Black Widow was glaring at Banner, knowing what his words did to the Parisians by their increasing straining to say nothing and stay in place. Batman was following them carefully. Something about the two of them screamed danger.
Then Superman dropped the bomb.
"So, effective immediately, we take jurisdiction of the city of..."
He was cut off by a sudden boom reverberating through the room. All heroes jumped in a battle stance. When there was no threat in sight, they looked at Ladybug, who had made a dent in the table with her fist. Her eyes were entirely blue. But it was not her usual color, it was an icy blue, that could freeze the fires of hell. Thor held his breath. They looked exactly like frost giant eyes. And familiar ones.
"How. Dare. You."
She didn't yell but the heroes could feel the ice in their veins.
"For four years we've been tirelessly fighting an emotional prying bastard, while controlling our own to the point where it seems that we have none, handling our civilian lives at the same time, trying to minimize the destruction of Paris even though we new the cure with bring everything back to normal, tending to our citizens after they've been akumatized, ensuring they would get therapy and support, even stopping minor crimes around the city and you have the balls to say that we are in over our heads?! We may be but we are handling it way better than any of you do! You are not one to speak, Superman. Metropolis gets trashed every other week with you're messy fights, and there is no cure. You obviously have no regard of the destruction or the victims most of the time. The rest of you are mostly the same. But there is no one getting in your way saying that you're doing a horrible job and trying to replace you. And if there is, gods forbid, you just send them to prison or in a mental asylum. You have NO right to criticize our ways when yours are statistically worse!"
Both the Justice League and the Avengers were silent and wide eyed. Thor was the first to recover. Her eyes went back to normal after she finished but there was no mistake. The girl wasn't human.
"Who are you?" He pointed his hammer at Ladybug. She rolled her eyes.
"Put that down, you're not intimidating anyone."
"Those were frost giant eyes. Answer me or perish."
"Dad would not appreciate the perish part, you know."
The Avengers and the Leaguers were now exchanging confused looks. What were they supposed to do? What was that about? After exchanging glances, they remained silent, watching the exchange curiously.
"What are you talking about?" Thor retorted, now gripping Mjolnir tighter.
"I guess this is as a bad time as any but... Hello uncle."
It wasn't ideal but she couldn't have both the Justice League and the Avengers trying to arrest her. She took the yo-yo from her hip and slid it open. She scrolled through her contacts and tapped the one named 'The God of Bullshit'. After a few beeps, during which the heroes were recovering from their stupor, Loki's face appeared on the screen.
"Daughter dearest. What's the matter, are the others bothering you?" He said in a sarcastic sweet voice. She rolled her eyes then pointed the screen towards Thor.
"L'Oréal blond knows."
After a few seconds Loki starts laughing like a maniac.
"This is the best way they could've found out. This is PERFECT."
Thor walks in wide strides to an unimpressed Ladybug and takes the yo-yo from her hand.
"I have a niece and you didn't TELL ME!"
"Of course not. You pieces of shit are not worthy of the presence of my daughter. I don't know why she even agreed to come to the meeting. She is doing a wonderful job in Paris and does not need any interference. Beware, brother, if you upset her I'll come for your heads. I have to go now, see you soon, daughter."
Ladybug closed her yo-yo and looked around the room.
"I don't care what you decided. Paris is my city. You don't come barging just because you think you can do a better job. And yes, I'm the daughter of Loki but that doesn't mean that I have bad intentions. I'm a hero as much as you are. Now, have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, Ladybug." Wonder Woman was the first to respond. Even if she was a daughter of Loki, the young hero earned her respect. She stood her ground against them and made her point crystal clear.
The rest of the heroes agree, though some reluctantly.
"Now, I agreed to come here mainly because I wanted to say that I have a strong lead. Hawkmoth may soon fall."
After some other arguments with some of the reluctant heroes and a few protests that were quickly shot down by Ladybug and her supporters, the heroes dispersed. She and Chat Noir were between the last ones to leave, having a shushed conversation while the others left.
"We will discuss it back in Paris. But yes, it's true."
"So you're a half goddess?"
"Demigoddess, but yes."
"That is awesome."
When they entered the hall, they saw it was almost empty. She was disappointed that maybe Red Robin left until he was in front of her. He gripped her shoulders and looked in her eyes.
"I think I'm in love with you. That was the greatest hero smack down in history."
She was a blushing mess by the time the other boys and Batman came around. They were all snickering, even Batman and Robin.
"How did you..."
"Father turned his com on when he saw that you looked like you were ready to kill someone."
"B, you are not allowed to adopt her under any circumstances, do you understand me? We do not need another sister."
"Yeah Bats, don't ruin your only chance at grandkids."
Now Red Robin was blushing too.
"So... You don't care about the Loki thing?"
"We noticed that he toned down a few years ago. We didn't know why. Now it makes sense."
"Yeah, trust me, you're not the only one with a villainous parent 'round here." Red Rood pointed, putting his elbow on Robin's shoulder. The latter looked like he wanted to rip it off.
"And you are clearly taking your job seriously. Even father respects your efforts."
"I didn't intend to make you feel like you are not good enough. We wanted to help you, but it got out of hand. I apologize."
"Apology accepted. I understand where you're coming from, but trust me. This is coming to an end. Soon."
When the Bats were going to the zeta tubes and Ladybug was merging the horse miraculous with her own, Red Robin stayed behind. He handed her a phone.
"It's a non traceable phone. Of you ever want to talk, my number is programmed in there. I really enjoyed our conversation"
She took the phone, smiling brightly.
"I did too. Thank you."
She pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, kissing her on the cheek then running to the zeta tubes. Her cheeks were as red as her suit. She touched the place where he kissed her, smiling like an idiot.
"Aww, I'm going to die of fluff. I ship it."
"Shut up." She grumbled but still smiling.
                                                           ...
A few months later Hawkmoth’s reign of terror came to an end. It was messy and heartbreaking but they were finally free. Adrien was exonerated by both the Justice League and the Avengers when accusations started to appear in the media. Not wanting to live with the Graham de Vanily’s, Adrien was taken in by Selina Kyle a.k.a Catwoman. It was quite fitting.
They have revealed their identities during the battle when they had to recharge and barely found one place to detransform. When they had the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous secured and Gabriel and Nathalie in police custody, they swung to the Eiffel Tower and collapsed there on each other, crying their hearts out for the first time in five years. Loki got there at some point but he kept his distance, understanding that it was their time. That was how they were found by the Justice League and the Avengers. Huddled together on the railing, not talking, with Loki next to them, smiling serenely. Thor almost had a heart attack. When she noticed that Red Robin came too, she ran to him and kissed him like the world almost ended, which almost actually did.
Fu passed guardianship to Marinette not long after, deeming her ready.
After everything was solved in Paris and the trials of Gabriel, Nathalie and Lila, for her aiding Hawkmoth, were done, Marinette began her first mission as Guardian. Cleanse Gotham.
Soon, a new vigilante, with a black fox theme, swung through Gotham with the Bats and Tim Drake appeared in public with his new girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
When I first saw what the prompt for today was I had no idea what to write. I didn’t want to do the class trip to New York so I took my favorite character, Loki obviously, and brainstormed. This came out. I don’t know if this has been done before but I love biodad!Loki.
So this is approximately 4326 words (I added and edited things on here so I don't know for sure) which is a new record. I did enjoy writing this. Maybe I will do something biodad!Loki again in the future, it's fun to write.
And as a sidenote, Marinette can lift Mjolnir.
@timari-month-event​
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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years
Note
Prompts no 25, 27, 31 angst and non happy ending because I'm a little sad
The affair
Dialogue prompt 31- I want you to list every lie you ever told me.. then I'll forgive you | I hope whoever you are, you're doing better now. My apologies for bringing it out pretty late.
TW- ANGST | Harry loved him, only till fire burned.
Prompt 25 | prompt 27
It could have been love.
Or perhaps it was love until the arson had lasted and the land got buried in the ashes. Maybe it was love, until the fire remained burning, and the air had stated vanishing and soon it died.
He always knew he thought love was a transaction, to get something back in return for what you deposit in, he never believed in it but was Draco swooned. He let himself take the fall hoping that maybe harry would save him. He knew what he was getting into but too fooled was he to believe that love changes people, he held onto the false hope. He assumed, he believed in himself that maybe, just maybe after everything Harry had been through, after everything he fought for, maybe he'd like to not face change anymore. That maybe after everything, he deserved to be loved and deserve to love. That maybe he too felt that there was none who understood him better than Draco like he did, only he should've known.
But once learnt the hard way, draco didn't know how many loses more could he take. Maybe he felt as though he owed it to harry, that perhaps harry was his last shot at love, no matter what happened. Even with the ever consuming lies building up in the relationship that had been going on for 3 years. But Draco would lie to himself if he said he was happy anymore. He used to be, but he hadn't felt the little comfort in the physical affection or more than a chaste kiss in the past few months and he was afraid. Afraid that his inner voice was right.
" I think he's cheating on me " Draco numbly spoke to pansy as he drank his cold coffee
" oh hone-"
" I knew it " Draco interjected.
Pansy gave him a pity look but oh she knew too. She knew he was cheating. The lies Harry had fed only worked a little.
" how do you know ?" Pansy asked, holding a little of Draco's hand in a comforting touch over the table.
" he told me he'd be at the office yesterday. I went to drop him something but he wasn't there. He had left hours ago " Draco replied blankly stating at pansy drawing circles on the upper side of his hand
" but you can't be sure " pansy sighed.
Draco hummed, deciding to not further talk about it.
Perhaps days went by, Draco had stopped counting, he has stopped looking at the calender when their anniversary passed as a forgotten date. Perhaps weeks since Harry tried to come home and cuddle with Draco. And maybe month too when they last went on a date.
Why was Draco doing this to himself? Fear.
He watched as the light, the spark, the fire diminish in Harry's eyes for Draco but a new one was born each day he left for work, like he had something to look forward to. He felt it in Harry's soft light chaste touches that they weren't a secret, private anymore, they were of Someone else too. He even smelled the perfume of another one on Harry's shirt. Yet he rested in fear, fear he'd never be loved again. Because even if everything, harry still was his boyfriend, by tag but he was.. it was all in the labels. But He didn't even come to Draco's work party.
" why don't you leave him ?" Blaise had asked. Draco only shrugged, yawning.
" do you even sleep anymore?" Blaise tried asking again. Draco shrugged once again. He had lost count of hours he slept too.
But alone in the night, sitting on a bed in loneliness even with the body next to him, he cried relentlessly in silent sobs. He would bite his palm to keep the muffles inside as he'd stare at the man he'd once loved, become Lost. He missed the harry who'd kiss him before sleeping or who'd whisper good night or the one's who dragged draco to shower with him or the harry who'd visit between works to take him out for lunch.. he missed the harry that was only his own and not shared as a public property.
________________________
He sat alone on the table of a family dinner as his father for first In a while looked at Draco in pity sitting next to an empty chair, reserved for his love who never showed up.
" we should start. He must be stuck with something " Draco Whispered.
Narcissa hesitantly nodded, helping serve the dinner and the family ate in low Whispers and soft chews.
And then perhaps as if an old friend has knocked his door, Draco was met with the young boy who loved Harry in his rivalry,who stood for what was right, for what wasn't just to him, one who believed that if love existed he'd never settle for less. Slamming the door shut, Draco instead of disapparating, stumbled back home with one bottle of whiskey he couldn't even drink because of the drowning heart that yearned sobriety.
" where were you ?" Harry has asked sitting on the sofa, watching TV at midnight when draco had stumbled back home.
But draco didn't respond, placed the bottle on the counter top, only little drunk, unknown tears smeared across his face.
" I asked you a question Draco, where were you ?" Harry sternly asked as he turned around to watch Draco
" are you fucking drunk ?' harry was perhaps disgusted but it only made Draco laugh. A mock.
" do you ask your other boy that too ?"
" what- what other boy ?" But harry was a bad liar.
Draco sniffed in as he walked forwards, collapsed on the couch next to Harry's and stared blankly out of the window, tears immediately blurring his vision.
" it was my parents anniversary today? Do you remember ? I told you a day before yesterday to be there, even sent a memo ? Did you receive ?" Draco asked, his legs shaking.
" oh- see I kept thinking I was forgetting something. I'm so sorry babe-"
" don't-call-me-that" Draco sneered
" what is the matter with you ?" Harry asked thoroughly offended
But Draco only exhaled a shaky breath, his hands contributing to the shakiness and he finally landed his eyes upon the man he had lost.
" was I not enough ?" His voice broke as he asked, staring into Harry's lost face
" what are you even on about-"
" your affair harry. Your bloody affair " Draco raised his voice so as to be stern, confident that be wasn't lying.
" what ? I don't have any affair. I'm offended that you even think that Draco. After everything we've been through-"
"bullshit " Draco snapped
" you think I can't see it Harry ? I can sense it across an entire room if you're there or not, don't you think I wouldn't know that the man I loved is not just Mine anymore ?"
" you're being ridiculous " harry rolled his eyes.
Draco gave Harry a weak smile before he went on " do you remember the last time you told me you loved me ?"
Harry frowned as he thought upon until the realisation hit " i- I didn't realize -"
" I don't blame you " Draco shook his head " I can't even if I Want to. Perhaps I am infact not enough.. perhaps I've failed to be who you wanted me to be. I don't blame you harry, I don't-"
" Draco, there's nothing going-"
" what's his name ?" Draco interjected
" there's no one "
" does he make you happy ?" Draco asked weakly
" Draco, there isn't-"
" does he kiss better than I do ?" Draco asked, his voice breaking.
Harry sighed " I'm not cheating Draco "
" then when did you fall out of love with me ?" Draco asked
Harry stared at Draco long enough to see the pain turning to mocking numbness " I never did "
" liar " Draco sneered as he looked away, not even bringing his hands up to wipe his tears.
" I love you Draco-"
" liar " Draco suddenly raised his voice " you're a pathetic liar " he sobbed
" all this time I tried to forgive you in my head but I only need to ask one thing, what did I do to deserve this ?" Draco sobbed
Harry's face filled with pity as he closed distance between them to wipe Draco's tears away but he jerked his hands away.
" I didn't mean for it to happen " harry finally said as he looked down at his feets, as though he was disgusted in himself.
Draco looked at harry attentively " how long ?"
" Draco-"
" how long harry ?" Draco asked sniffing
" 5 months " harry replied. It should not have been a blow, not have hurt this bad, because Draco already knew but he did. Tears rapidly burning his face as pathetic sobs left his lips and he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at harry.
" it meant nothing to me Draco-"
" it doesn't matter " Draco interjected, heaving for a long breath
" no I mean it Draco, it didn't mean anything "
" if it didn't mean anything then why were you with him tonight instead of me ?"
But in hopes of trying to fix things, harry couldn't formulate an answer without hurting Draco.
" I really loved you harry, I still do and I hate myself for it but I will let you go "
" Draco Don't-"
" I have loved you enough but in hopes of trying to keep you close, I have made you runaway from me and that's no one's but my own fault. Perhaps I loved you too much or too little but neither of it was enough to make you stay " Draco cried in silent tears.
" don't say that Draco. Please. I still love you. I never stopped. I'll leave him for you. I only love you. It was a mistake Draco. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry Draco, please, please forgive me " harry begged
Draco offered Harry a little smile before he took Harry's hands in how own, locking their finger's together and kissing his knuckles.
" I Want you to list every lie you ever told. Then maybe I'll forgive you "
And in that sweetness Draco left Harry more broken than he had ever felt. Filled with regret he had never felt. Pain he had long forgotten. Misery and sorrow he had said good-bye too. But it was in his sweetness harry had loved him and it was in his sweetness he had lost him. That night when Draco went away, with no response, he never came back again and harry was left alone.
It could have been love, or perhaps it was, only until the night was young and the sun had not risen.
Till the mortal fire had burnt.
It's basically midnight thoughts.
300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open.
( ps. I reached 400 tho )
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systematic-advice · 2 years
Note
Hi there ! You seem to be very well informed on DID and I was wondering if I could request some advice, if you're willing and able to give it. My cousin is claiming to have DID, I don't like to fake claim people however she has no history of trauma at all and switched through about 12 doctors to get the diagnosis and no ones really sure if she's actually diagnosed or not. I really want to help her get better but I'm not sure how to bc I don't want to just go up to her and tell her I think she's faking, she needs help with something obviously and I know this would be a sensitive topic to bring up however I do have trauma and mental illnesses (not DID tho) and I find the whole thing she's doing a little offensive and I believe it's doing a lot of harm to her instead of anything good. Would you happen to have any advice on how I can approach the convo ? Or how to sorta steer her towards being open with her therapist and doctors instead of hopping to a new one when she doesn't get the answer she's looking for ? I understand this situation can seem a lil confusing I would just appreciate any input, I'm at a loss for how to help her and I can see her heading down a dark path with no actual help for it. If you feel uncomfortable answering please dont push yourself to :)
Hi there Anon.
I think the best advice I can give you is to leave her be. I understand wanting to help and to steer her in the right direction, but this is not the way to do it. It's always important to remember you are not your cousin, and therefore can't know what's happening in her mind.
It rubs me the wrong way, your statement of 'she has no history of trauma'. That's not a statement you could accurately make as someone outside their body. Consider that what you consider traumatic and what she considered traumatic may be very different and that you have likely not been present for every day of her young life. No matter what you think you know about your cousin, there is always a chance she is hiding things from you or herself. The nature of DID/OSDD is to hide trauma from ourselves so we can better cope with living passed the things that have occurred.
There are many reasons why someone might bounce between therapists, and many of them are not related to not getting the diagnosis you want. Every therapist has a different approach and finding what works for you can take a long time. Not to mention that if your cousin DOES have DID/OSDD, she might have been referred to several specialists to confirm it. Moving between care providers is not in and of itself a sign of faking.
If your cousin is young, you're welcomed to direct them to resources concerning DID/OSDD, or even to have a conversation with her parents to better understand the situation. If you are offended, that later option might be the better one. But either way it is not your place to tell her she doesn't have DID/OSDD and it is even less so anyone's place to tell someone they don't have trauma.
Fake Claiming doesn't help anyone and DID/OSDD are not as rare as people like to claim, so it's not farfetched to assume they 'could' be a System. I don't know the full context of the situation so I'll say that there might be other things playing in that I don't know about, but in general it is just a better idea to keep to your own mental growth.
Additional Words from Another System ( @goldenspirits) 
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thewidowsghost · 3 years
Text
The Temple - Pt. 2 (Skye x Coulson!Reader)
Main Masterlist
Part 1: The Temple (Skye x Avenger!Coulson!Reader)
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Previously on The Temple:
The elder Coulson reaches up, brushing a piece of hair behind Skye's ear in a fatherly fashion.
"I'm so sorry. I'm gonna make it right. I'm gonna find the Obelisk."
"No," Coulson murmurs hoarsely.
"I'm gonna stop the drill. I'm gonna make it right," Skye continues, bolting from the room before (Y/n) can even think.
"Skye, no," Coulson calls. "Don't go down there."
"Dad, I have -" (Y/n) begins.
"Go! Go after her!" the elder Coulson says and (Y/n) jumps to her feet, glancing between the doorway Skye had gone through, and her father lying on the ground. "Go!" he yells again, and (Y/n) wipes away her tears, sprinting after Skye.
. . .
There's a metallic grinding nose, and Skye, Trip, (Y/n), and Raina focus on the Obelisk on the pedestal. It opens, revealing crystals and (Y/n) tenses.
"How do we stop it?" Trip asks.
"I don't think we can," (Y/n) says. She turns to Skye, tears welling in her eyes.
Skye grabs the front of (Y/n)'s shirt, pulling (Y/n) closer and kissing her.
"I love you," both young women whisper at the same time; the two focus back on the Obelisk.
Skye exhales heavily as the chamber trembles.
. . .
"And Skye and (Y/n) barely made it out alive! (Y/n) hasn't even woken up yet!" Mack shouts.
"Thanks to Trip! He sacrificed his life, Mack!" May counters.
"No, he traded his life for theirs!" Mack yells. "And then he was shattered into a thousand pieces!"
"That's enough!" the Elder Coulson yells. "If Trip was here, he wouldn't be arguing. He would't be bitching. He would be gearing up to do what needs to be done." Skye looks horrified at the can that had been trembling, and looking around, she sees her girlfriend curled up in the floor in a corner, her hands pressed over her ears. Skye crosses the containment module and sits down next to where is sitting on the other side of the glass. "Yes, we're dealing with forces we don't understand, but HYDRA I do understand. I want everyone ready when the sun comes up - end of discussion."
Everyone else leaves the room and Skye murmurs, loud enough for (Y/n) to hear. "(Y/n), what's happening to us?"
. . .
"The Avengers wouldn't have been necessary if we hadn't unleashed alien horrors," Simmons cuts Skye off again.
(Y/n)'s eyes had gone cold. "Go," she says bitterly, turning away from the scientist.
"But -" Simmons tries but (Y/n) turns back to her.
"There's always danger, Simmons," (Y/n) snaps, the stirring feeling rising up in her again. "Not everything is something that has to be destroyed or -" (Y/n) stops, turning her head away. "Go."
. . .
There are metallic crashes as pots and pan fall onto the ground and into the sink.
"Skye, (Y/n)? You want to talk to us?" May asks, and the two lover exchange horrified glances.
"Skye, what's doing this?" Coulson asks, his eyes widening.
"I am," Skye admits shakily.
Lady Sif goes to grab Skye's arm, and Skye flinches away, "No." Skye pulls (Y/n) along slightly, removing her hand from (Y/n)'s as she claps them to her forehead.
Skye's fist clenches and the glass behind (Y/n) and Skye explodes.
And, as if in slow motion, (Y/n)'s frame grows larger, towering over Skye.
The grizzly bear wraps it's arms around Skye, protecting the brunette from the shattered glass.
"Hand them over," Lady Sif orders and the elder Coulson and May pull out their hand guns, moving in front of the two younger women. "It will be safer for all of you."
. . .
A sword tip is stabbed through the wall.
"Agent May, release the girls!" Lady Sif orders.
"May, she'll get through," Skye whispers.
"Ignore it. Remember - focus," May says.
"I can't," Skye breathes as Lady Sif breaks the barrier.
May steps back and Skye grabs the agent's ICER, shooting herself with the gun. The rumbling stops and (Y/n) turns to her unconscious girlfriend.
"Skye," (Y/n) whispers, fear spiking through her. "Skye!"
"She harmed herself," Lady Sif says, staring at (Y/n) and Skye, her eyes wide.
(Y/n) pulls her unconscious girlfriend closer to her, her eyes wide.
. . .
"A right to know," Fitz echoes. "What - is that the same way that Sif and the Kree had a right to know?"
"I think this situation's a little bit different, mate," Hunter responds.
"No, you would have done to them exactly what Sif and the Kree wanted to," Fitz argues.
"You don't know that," Simmons says.
"Yes, I do know that!" Fitz yells. "They would - You would - You'd 'handle them'! Mack just said it! Like, uh - Skye and (Y/n) are something to be locked away in a cage somewhere. We should be protecting them."
"No, Fitz," Mack interupts. "We're the ones that need protection from them." Then Mack goes silent, looking over Simmons's shoulder.
Fitz and Simmons turns around, and five SHIELD agents catch sight of (Y/n) and Skye - (Y/n) supporting Skye's weight.
Skye looks into the room, looks away, and then she and (Y/n) start back down the hallway, a disgusted look on (Y/n)'s face, and a large dufflebag thrown over (Y/n)'s other shoulder.
Fitz looks between the other for SHIELD agents, and then follows (Y/n) and Skye.
"Skye. (Y/n)," Fitz calls down the hall, but the two women keep making their way down the hallway.
The two make their way into the BUS, entering the containment module.
"You don't have to stay," Skye tells (Y/n).
"You know I'm not going anywhere, love," (Y/n) murmurs, sitting down beside Skye on the small bed. "Please, rest," (Y/n) says softly lying down on her side and lifting an arm so Skye can cuddle up to her. "We'll figure out something," (Y/n) murmurs. I hope . . .
3rd Person POV
Skye leans over a bowl, dipping a piece of her grilled cheese into her tomato soup.
"I got to say, Director, no doubt, this is the best grilled cheese I've ever had," Skye says, humming in contentment.
"Other times, I'd be offended, but I agree," (Y/n) says, looking appreciatively at her father as she stuffs another mouthful of grilled cheese in her mouth. "Isth really gud," (Y/n) says, her mouth full and Skye looks slightly disgusted.
"Secret ingredient," the Elder Coulson asks.
"Ooh, what is it?" (Y/n) asks, having swallowed her mouthful.
"I will not disclose," (Y/n)'s dad replies, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Skye laughs and her spoon lets out a little chime against her bowl, setting it aside before nestling herself into (Y/n)'s side.
(Y/n) hums contentedly, shoving more grilled cheese in her mouth.
"How are you doing with all the monitoring?" Coulson asks gently.
"I barely notice it," Skye lies.
"We wouldn't subject you to it if it wasn't absolutely necessary," Coulson tells her.
"I assume you're putting us on the gifted index," (Y/n) guesses.
"We are," Coulson the Elder nods.
Skye sighs, looking slightly regretful. "I've been doing some monitoring of my own," she says. "Check this out," she shows the older Coulson her bio-meter watch which shows her heart rate at sixty-five beats per minute. "My entire life, I've been searching for my parents and my search ended with answers that are so much worse than I could've imagined," Skye admits and (Y/n)'s gaze softens and she sets down her grilled cheese, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend. "Sad, twitchy, not-all-there Dad, a dead Mom, alien mist that turned me into a walking natural disaster, a friend dead -"
(Y/n)'s eyes cloud with pain. The Avenger had always been close to Trip, and his death made that so, so much worse.
"Hey," the Elder Coulson says softly, coming over to sit beside (Y/n) and Skye on the small bed. "Trip was not your fault."
"My point is, I'm steady. Nothing is shaking," Skye tells Coulson, looking slightly proud of herself. "I'm stopping them before they start."
"That's good," Coulson replies, looking happier than he just had.
"If I keep working on this, I can be back in the field in no time," Skye says excitedly.
(Y/n) squeezes Skye, happy for her girlfriend's excitement.
. . .
"She's acting like everything will go back to normal," Coulson tells May a little later, pulling Skye's and (Y/n)'s files to add them to the SHIELD Gifted Index.
"That's what Skye does," May says. "Do they know they're being put on the Index?" May asks.
"They do," Coulson replies. "They both do seem to be getting control of their powers."
"That's good," May admits. "But we barely understand them - other than they're strong."
"Catastrophically so," Coulson agrees, referring to Skye's powers.
"Protocol is, anyone on the Index undergoes a full psych eval and a treat assessment," May reminds Coulson.
"We'd need to bring in someone from outside," Coulson remarks.
"Someone we can trust," May agrees.
. . .
"I think it's so cool," Skye remarks, looking at (Y/n) the Husky admiringly, "that you can turn into animals."
"Are you kidding me?" (Y/n) asks, shifting back into herself, her eyes gleaming lovingly. "What about your powers?"
Skye smiles at her girlfriend, cuddling into her side, listening to the radio. (Y/n) wraps her arms around Skye's waist.
youtube
"Hey, look what a hello from a stranger turned into / Caught up in a moment like it's just us in this room / All the right words at the right time and you know 'em 'cause you know me / Better than anyone else, we don't need anyone else / There's a couple billion people in the word / And a million other places we could be, but you're here with me / Take a moment just to take it in / 'Cause every high and every low led to this / I'm just so glad you exist / Don't you ever go, don't you ever go, don't you ever go changin' / Never let me go, never let me go, never let me go, baby / Don't you ever to, don't you ever go, don't you ever go changin' / Never let me go, never leg me go, never let me go, baby," (Y/n) sings softly along to the song, swaying her and Skye slightly. "I'm just so glad you exist," (Y/n) murmurs in Skye's ear.
Skye looks up into (Y/n)'s gentle (E/c) eyes.
"I love you," Skye murmurs, pressing her cheek against (Y/n)'s.
"I love you too," (Y/n) replies, her eyes closing in contentment.
"You remember our first mission together?" Skye asks and (Y/n) fixes her gaze on Skye's chocolate brown eyes.
"I do," (Y/n) answers, her eye sparkling
"Yep, you were kicking ass and looking hot while doing it." Skye asks and (Y/n) throws back her head with a laugh. "You were so sweet, too."
Skye is sitting in her bunk on the bus, typing on her laptop.
"Mission brief in five," Coulson says, knocking on the door.
"Okay," Skye mumbles.
"Katherine Shane?" Coulson asks, reading the file off of Skye's laptop.
"Do you know her?" Skye asks, looking interested.
"We ran a few OPs together in the '90s," Coulson tells Skye. "Smart, resourceful. Had a soft spot for Truffaut movies."
"Easy there, charm school," Skye says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "According to these files, Agent Shane could be my mom," Skye suddenly looks excited.
"Even if Shane was the Agent who dropped you off at the orphanage, it doesn't mean she's your mother."
"I started looking into all the female agents active when I was born," Skye says and Coulson hums. "Needle, haystack, I know. But then I factored in age and marital status, and then I built a program to narrow down the field."
"You're still looking at a long road," Coulson tells Skye gently.
"Well, it would be a lot shorter if I could access more files," Skye tells the agent. "Maybe you could remove my internet nanny?" she then asks. "I'm talking about my tracking bracelet," she clarifies, shaking her wrist.
"I got that," Coulson says, looking down at the brunette.
"So you'll take it off?" Skye asks.
"No, but I asked May to look into SHIELD's more restricted files," Coulson replies.
"Uh, I was kind of hoping to keep this private," Skye murmurs.
"Agent May specializes in private," Coulson tells her gently. "Let's go," Coulson says, walking out of the little room.
. . .
"At 0800 hours, three men infiltrated the Havenworth Federal Penitentiary," Coulson tells the others - Fitz, Simmons, Ward, May, and Skye.
"Infultrated? More like cannon-balled," Skye says softly.
"They were in and out in less than two minutes," Coulson goes on. "Left no prints at the scene, but we do have one lead."
Coulson swipes up, and the computer beeps, and there is an image projected on the screen.
"Centipede," Ward says, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Seems they salvaged some of their research from Hong Kong," Coulson tells the group.
"So we were right," Simmons says, and Fitz turns to look at his friend. "Chan's platelets solved their combustion problem. Now they can create super soldiers with no fear of explosion."
"Maybe don't get so excited about it," Fitz murmurs to Simmons.
"Two of Centipede's labs have been destroyed, but they keep popping back up," Coulson says. "Now they have at least three of these guys, maybe more."
"Who did they break out?" May asks, her brow furrowing.
"Edison Po, former Marine," Coulson replies. "Expert in tactics and rapid response. He fell off the grid in '08, reappeared eighteen months ago at a diner in Boston."
"Where he stabbed a friend's eyes out," Ward grumbles.
"With a steak knife, then finished his meal," Coulson finishes, glancing at Ward.
"That's funny. Po doesn't look crazy," Skye remarks and everyone looks at her.
"I'm kidding," Skye says, looking exasperated. "The guy is a walking mug shot."
"Which means he shouldn't be too hard to track down," Coulson agrees. "Finding Po and these Centipede soldiers is a top priority for SHIELD. We'll be running point, but we won't be working alone," Coulson tells the others.
"What team did HQ send for backup?" Ward asks, looking suspicious.
"Not a team -" Coulson says, his lips twitching. "Two people. One who is skilled in combat - trained by SHIELD's finest. And one who can help us fight fire with fire -" Coulson begins.
"Somebody we worked with before?" Skye asks.
"Not exactly," Coulson says.
. . .
Mike Peterson exits the SHIELD vehicle, another figure who looks like she's being harassed by a blond archer and a redhead nearby.
"Don't make me flatten you, Clinty," the younger of the three says, pointing at the man and the archer backs off, looking slightly horrified.
"Bye, you," the redhead grumbles, pulling her former apprentice into a hug.
"Nat!" the younger woman complains. "You're squishing my head!"
"This was a bad idea," May comments, looking between the two figures - the young woman and Mike Peterson.
Natasha Romanoff hands the younger woman a backpack and the women softens, hugging her former mentor one more time before hurrying off to join Mike.
The young woman turns, grinning at Mike, and the older man just shakes his head, amusement evident in his gaze.
"Agent Coulson, Agent May," Mike says, nodding respectfully to the older agents, but the woman just grins.
"Agent Coulson, at your service," the younger Agent Coulson says, faking a serious tone and her father shakes his head.
May just walks away and the elder Coulson turns to Mike.
"Last time you saw here, you threw her into a brick wall," Coulson reminds the super-soldier.
"Right," Mike says, looking uncomfortable. "First time around, I wasn't who I wanted to be," Mike tells the elder Coulson, "but now I get it. Having all this - it's a privilege. And training to be an agent, working with SHIELD, it's me trying to do better, trying to be better," he pauses. "I just need you to give me a shot."
"Everyone deserves a second chance," Coulson says, stepping forward. "But let me be clear - there will not be a third."
Mike dips his head, "Understood, sir."
"Good," Coulson says, glancing at the younger Coulson and turning around; Agent Coulson gets the feeling like she should follow.
. . .
"It's not good. At all," Ward says grimly to the three younger people in the room - Simmons, Fitz, and Skye. "The guy was literally a ticking time bomb - literally."
"HQ wouldn't have sent him if he was still combustible," Fitz reasons. "They must've found a way to stabilize him somehow."
"What about this other person they're sending in. Coulson said he was trained by SHIELD's finest, and yet none of us know who it is?" he questions. "Just saying, this could easily go sideways. Seriously, the last time we saw Peterson, he was a raging homicidal maniac -" Ward pauses, the other three looking behind him. "He's standing right behind me, isn't he?" Ward asks.
"Mr. Peterson, this is Agent Grant Ward," Coulson says, and the others wonder why Coulson hadn't introduced the pretty young woman standing behind him. "He's the man who shot you at Union Station." Ward looks uncomfortable and an amused expression flashes across the new woman's face. "Fitz-Simmons," the two scientists wave at the super-soldier, "designed the weapon he used, and I think you remember -" Coulson gestures to Skye.
"Kidnap victim," Skye says, looking happy and the unknown woman is slightly confused.
Mike chuckles. "You joined SHIELD?" he asks.
"Yeah. Turns out, guys in suits - not so bad," Skye says with a grin.
"Look, I know Union Station could have gone another way," Mike says, looking uncomfortable again. "Another team might not have let me out of there alive. I owe you - all of you."
"That's bygones and water under a distant bridge far away," Skye says and unknown woman fixes her gaze on the brunette, studying her, and Skye looks back, her lips twitching in a smile. "How's your son?" Skye asks, turning back to Mike.
"Still with my sister. He thinks I'm working construction, but he's good, happy," Mike answers, smiling.
"So, what do we have?" Coulson asks.
"An unintroduced agent," the new woman says and there is a laugh from everyone in the room.
"Right," Coulson says, glaring at the younger woman. "This is (Y/n) Coulson, my daughter."
The other agents cast their gazes onto the tall young woman and (Y/n) looks unenthuiastically at her father.
"So, what do we have?" Coulson asks again.
"Not much on Po," Sky replies, tearing her eyes off (Y/n). "I checked his previously known addresses and old military contacts - came up empty."
"We've been looking for where Po might be on the outside," Coulson tells them, (Y/n) leaning against the doorway. "Let's look at his life on the inside - at the prison. See if that gets us any leads. Anything on the Centipede soldiers?"
"We found a facial recog match on one of them," Simmons says and (Y/n) fixes her gaze on the British woman.
"Name's Brian Hayward," Ward says, pressing a button on the debriefing table. "Stationed in Afghanistan for three years, then fell off the radar when he got back."
"Only living relative - sister, Laura -" Skye begins and (Y/n) pipes up.
"I know a Laura," (Y/n) says and Coulson glares at his daughter as the others laugh.
Skye shakes her head, looking amused, before continuing, "Sophomore at the University of Ohio."
"She's our best shot at finding Hayward," the Elder Coulson says, glancing at the board. "You and I will go talk to her," he nods to Ward. "Have May set a course for Cleveland."
Coulson points at (Y/n) and Mike. "Follow," he says.
"Bye friends," (Y/n) says with a wave, her gaze resting on Skye.
. . .
"Hey," Skye says, scrolling through her laptop, Agent May walking up to the brunette, her normal scowl on her face. "Coulson told me you were helping to, you know, find my long-lost folks, so thanks," Skye says, and (Y/n) remains in the shadows, not wanting to intrude. "I'm glad you're in on this with me. It means a lot."
May scowls even more and Skye swallows thickly.
(Y/n) winces as May says some harsh things to Skye. May leaves Skye alone and (Y/n) steps out of the shadows.
"Hey," (Y/n) says gently and Skye looks up. "Don't take what May said to heart, okay?"
Skye meets (Y/n)'s eyes, and then nods.
"So what did you find?" (Y/n) asks.
. . .
Skye leads (Y/n) and May into the debriefing room.
"Po only had one visitor during his prison stint - her," Skye says and (Y/n) narrows her eyes at the screen.
"Recognize the outfit?" Skye asks. "Miles said a girl in a flowered dress asked him to hack SHIELD. This could be the same girl."
"Can we hear the conversation?" (Y/n) asks Skye.
"That's the bummer," Skye replies. "There was no audio, but it's not a total loss. I was able to use SHIELD's lip-reading program, because we have one of those," Skye chuckles.
"It's so cool, right?" (Y/n) asks.
Skye catches May's scowl and continues, "It didn't work on the girl because she never looks up at the camera, but Po did - once - and it caught this."
Skye presses a button and, "The Clairvoyant doesn't not like to be touched," comes from the screen.
"I wrote that down, so we don't have to hear that again - ever," Skye says and (Y/n) looks disgusted.
"The Clairvoyant," May says thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Skye says, furrowing her brow. "Does that mean anything to you?"
(Y/n) shakes her head, "But it means something to them - to Po and whoever that woman is."
"Her name's Raina," says a voice and Mike Peterson walks into the room.
"You know her?" Skye asks Mike.
"Yeah, she recruited me for Centipede, came up to me at the hospital where I did my back therapy out of the blue," Mike pauses. "Told me she could change my life."
. . .
An hour or so later, Skye finds (Y/n) by the loading doors of the BUS, the young woman attacking a punching bag.
"Time to suit up," Skye says and (Y/n) looks up, wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"Cool," (Y/n) says, jogging up the stairs. She passes Skye, shooting the brunette a grin, and Skye's cheeks flush.
. . .
(Y/n) suits up in her SHIELD uniform before meeting the others in the loading dock. Her SHIELD uniform was a Royal blue, but was almost exactly like her old mentor - Natasha's - SHIELD uniform, with light blue highlights running down the arms and legs.
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"I think it's rather smart," Simmons remarks, looking at Mike's combat suit.
"How does it feel?" Fitz asks.
"Feels good. Comfortable," Mike replies.
"Having powers is cheating, but the suit's pretty cool," Ward remarks.
(Y/n) steps off the last stair, her combat boots making a thunking sound as she steps onto the floor, and Skye turns to look at her.
"Right, now that everyone's here," Coulson glares bemusedly at his daughter. "Hayward's cellphone has been traced to an abandoned factory about eight miles from here."
"We'll go in quiet. Do minimal damage to the facility and the people inside," May tells the others as (Y/n) pulls out her electric batons from her backpack, sliding them up the sleeves of her suit into the little sheaths against her wrists.
Ward, May, you'll go in through the west entrance. Mr. Peterson and I will enter through the loading dock," Coulson tells the group.
"So I guess you're my partner?" (Y/n) says, looking at Skye.
Coulson nods. "You and Skye will go through the main entrance."
(Y/n) dips her head.
"We're doing this just us?" Skye asks. "We've been playing whack-a-mole with these guys since Ward first picked me out of my van. Shouldn't big SHIELD be sending in backup?" she asks.
"Trust me, they already did," Coulson says, looking pointedly at his Avenger daughter. "They sent a super-soldier and an Avenger."
"An Avenger who has to pop an Ibuprofen after every fight," (Y/n) grumbles.
"Let's move," May says, leading Ward from the BUS.
"Take this," Coulson tosses (Y/n) a gun.
"Is the famous Fitz-Simmons ICER?" (Y/n) asks, studying the craftsmanship of the gun. "I'm impressed. It's just the right weight." (Y/n) glances appreciatively at the two scientists. "It's been a while since I've seen a gun this nice. I might be stealing it."
Fitz-Simmons glance at each other then grin at the Avenger.
"Enough fangirling," Coulson says and (Y/n) rolls her eyes.
"All right. All right," (Y/n) replies. "Come on, Skye."
. . .
"Are we alone here?" Coulson asks the group.
"It seems so," (Y/n) answers. "Fitz, dial Hayward's number."
There is a moment's pause, then the sound of a phone dialing.
(Y/n) freezes in front of one of the storage containers.
(Y/n) hears a cellphone ringing and she holds a finger to her mouth so Skye would be quiet.
Flicking her wrists, the batons slide out of their sheaths.
(Y/n) takes the two separate pieces, locking them together.
(Y/n) readies her batons, as the doors to the storage container fly off the hinges.
"Uh, (Y/n), Skye, you've got company," Fitz tells the two women.
"I'd noticed," (Y/n) replies, advancing on Hayward.
The soldier places his hands on the storage container and flings it towards (Y/n) and Skye.
Skye flinches but (Y/n) tackles Skye, pushing her out of the way. (Y/n) rolls, landing on her feet, and Skye, on the ground, levels her own ICER, firing at the soldier.
The soldier falls to the ground and (Y/n) pulls Skye to her feet. Looking down at the soldier, the two women see the dendrotoxin veins leaving his face. Hayward blinks, his eyes refocusing.
"That usually packs a bigger punch," Skye comments, her and (Y/n) stepping back as Hayward rises to his feet.
(Y/n) runs towards the soldier, smacking him across the forehead, and then in the stomach with the other end of the now staff, flooring the soldier with her mentor's favorite move.
"We're heading your way," Coulson tells his daughter.
"Who's doing this?" (Y/n) asks the fallen soldier.
"I don't tell anyone. I promise," the soldier says through gritted teeth.
There is a tiny spark, and the light behind the soldier's eyes goes out.
. . .
"I'm so glad you're here," Simmons greets Dr. Garner. "Especially since it's been well documented that powers can lead to psychological volatility. Not that Skye or (Y/n) are showing any signs. Their vitals currently are steady."
"May I?" Garner asks, looking at the iMac on the desk.
"So, it might be wise to do pharmacological evaluations," Simmons advises. "Dulling Skye's emotions could lessen the destructiveness of her powers - a-a stopgap measure."
"I should probably meet both of them before writing a prescription," Garner says sternly, looking at Simmons with a frown.
"I'll take you to them," May tells her ex-husband
"I appreciate the extensive and thorough debrief, Agent Simmons," Garner says, turning away from Simmons.
. . .
"Are you kidding me? A shrink?" Skye asks, (Y/n) sitting next to her on the cot as usual, a frown evident on the Avenger's face.
"It's not personal," May tells the brunette.
"Hell, it's not personal. It's a shrink," Skye argues and (Y/n) places a gentle hand on Skye's knee.
"It's standard procedure for anyo -" May begins.
Skye cuts her off, "No, I know, but we're not just on the Index. We're also SHIELD agents."
"Exactly. So you know it's non-negotiable," May argues right back.
Skye scoffs, shaking her head.
"Andrew is good, and he's done this before," May says, her tone softening.
"So have I. I grew up in the system," Skye replies. "I've been through enough of these to know that I hate them."
"You'll like this one," May tells Skye.
"Yeah, how do you know that?" Skye replies, focusing her gaze on (Y/n)'s hand resting on her knee.
"Because I was married to him," May answers and Skye looks up, her eyes wide with shock.
"I'm going to make us something to eat," (Y/n) tells Skye once May leaves. "I'm starving," (Y/n) leans over, pressing a soft kiss to Skye's cheek before standing up and walking over to the door. Opening the door, she steps aside to let Andrew into the house.
"Hello, (Y/n)," Andrew greet the young woman.
"Hey," (Y/n) replies with a short wave before leaving the room and making her way into the kitchen inside the Playground.
. . .
(Y/n) looks up from her pan as she notices the pots and pans rattling on the wall.
Skye! she thinks, throwing the hot pan into the sink and unknowingly shifting into a panther, and darting out of the room.
(Y/n)'s powerful shoulder muscles bunch and stretch as she speeds up, a black blur as she streaks past the labs.
(Y/n) charges up the loading doors and up to Skye's room, shifting back into herself.
"Skye! You need to wake up!" (Y/n) exclaims, gently shaking Skye's shoulder.
Skye starts, fixing her gaze on (Y/n)'s (E/c) eyes but then she looks at the door as Dr. Garner, May, Fitz, and Simmons burst into the room.
"Hey. Look at me," (Y/n) reaches out a hand, gently moving Skye's face to look her in the eye. "You need to stop this," (Y/n) kneels down and to her relief, Skye keeps her eyes on (Y/n)'s.
"If she needs a sedative . . ." Simmons begins, but May glares at the scientist.
"You can do it Skye. Just focus," (Y/n) whispers, gazing into Skye's brown eyes.
Skye exhales slowly and the shaking stops.
"No, no. It's good. It's good. It's stopping," Fitz tells Simmons.
Dr. Garner and May exchange a look before fixing their gazes on (Y/n), whose hand is resting on Skye's knee now.
"I'm going to stay," Garner says.
"Come on. Everybody out," May nods.
'Love you,' (Y/n) mouths as she leaves the room, looking back at Skye, and the brunette relaxes, smiling softly.
"May," comes a voice and May looks at her watch, a projection of Coulson appears in her hand. "We need backup."
. . .
Skye breathes deeply, looking at her bio-meter watch. "Under seventy," Skye says, taking another breath.
"How are you doing that?" Garner asks.
"May taught me," Skye replies. "You focus on a single point, let everything else become noise disappearing in the background."
"Except it doesn't disappear you're pushing it aside," Garner says, putting his hands on his hips. Which is why, when you were dreaming, the tremors started." Skye swallows thickly. "What were you dreaming about?" Garner asks.
"I don't remember," Skye replies, her cheeks darkening.
"You're seeming defensive," Garner says, frowning.
"Because you keep pushing," Skye argues.
"Because whatever you were feeling was strong enough to shake this entire plane," Garner replies, his brows furrowing.
"Well, I don't know, so let's move on," Skye says, her eyes watery. "How about you show me an inkblot, and I tell you about me and my girlfriend's first time?" Skye asks, leaning forward. The moment she says it though, she regrets it. Their first time had been magical, and Skye had never felt so loved that night.
Garner chuckles. "Humor. So that's your thing. Well, that's an effective way to avoid thinking about how monumentally painful your life is right now."
"Good pep talk," Skye says through gritted teeth. "Thanks," Skye frowns, her brows furrowing.
"Sarcasm. Same purpose - avoidance strategy," Garner says.
"What am I avoiding, exactly?" Skye asks, leaning forward and crossing her legs criss-cross-applesauce on her and (Y/n)'s shared bed.
"The truth," Garner says. "That - not just you, but your girlfriend too - are different now, that you have abilities, your abilities triggered by pain, and either you face that or you don't sleep again."
Skye swallows thickly, her gaze falling on the door, wishing that (Y/n) would walk through the door; wishing that (Y/n) would set her hand on her knee like she always did when Skye was feeling scared or nervous; wishing that (Y/n) would walk through with a carefully picked tub of salted caramel ice cream and two spoons.
Skye turns back to Dr. Garner. "I dreamed I was on a mission, looking through the scope of my rifle. The next thing I knew, I was on the other side. The rifle was trained on me.
"Pretty on point - going form being an agent to a -" Garner begins
"Yeah, to being on the Index," Skye interupts. "And I know SHIELD's policy for people on the Index."
There's a rumbling.
"I have executed that policy," Skye continues.
"Okay. Skye, I need you to stop," Garner says, looking around at the shaking walls. "Just calm down. Take a breath."
"Wait. The room is shaking," Skye realizes.
"Right," Garner replies, leaning forward in his chair. "Which is why I need you to breathe."
"No, this isn't me. I'm not doing this," Skye says, pursing her lips.
Garner looks around before moving out of the room.
(Y/n) enters the room a moment later holding two spoons and a tub of salted caramel ice cream.
Skye gazes softly at (Y/n) as (Y/n) comes over to sit beside her on their shared bed.
"Dad needed backup," (Y/n) tells Skye as she hands her girlfriend a spoon, then cracking open the tub of ice cream.
Skye leans affectionately against (Y/n), digging her spoon into the carton and making airplane noises like she would to a baby, poking (Y/n)'s lips with the spoon.
(Y/n)'s shoulder shake with silent laughter, and she opens her mouth, eating the spoonful off Skye's spoon.
(Y/n) takes her own spoon, scooping out another bite. She moves it towards Skye's lips. When Skye opens her mouth, (Y/n) steals the bite.
Skye giggles this time, her head falling on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
. . .
"That not-talking thing you do - not okay when we were married, but definitely not okay," Dr. Garner scolds his ex-wife.
"Not okay is Skye's lunatic father leading Coulson into a trap. Civilians could be hurt. I acted quickly," May says, her tone hardening.
"And me and Skye? We do what?" Garner asks, furrowing his brow.
May scoffs. "Same as if we were were on base," May says. "Stay in the cage. Continue your evaluation."
"That's so not going to happen," Skye says, and the two exs turn to fix their gazes on the two young women.
May's eyes flick down to Skye and (Y/n)'s interlocked pinkies and Skye's slightly relaxed expression.
"This is not a negotiation, Skye," May fixes her gaze back on Skye's eyes, which had narrowed, her relaxed expression leaving her face. "You're staying on the BUS."
Skye walks over to the debriefing table, leaving (Y/n) standing in the doorway.
"If Coulson needs backup -" Skye begins.
May cuts her off. "He'll have it. We don't need you."
"Yes, you do. My father's involved," Skye argues, her eyes narrowing. "And for better or worse, I matter to him, and we can use that."
"May, we can help," (Y/n) says, moving over to stand beside Skye.
"Having contact with your father is a bad idea," Garner says, furrowing his eyebrows. "If you can't control your feelings -"
"I'll ice myself," Skye interupts.
Garner frowns.
"Look. You put me on the Index. You're doing my intake assessment. How about we let my Dad know?" Skye asks.
"Okay," May says after a moment, but then she fixes her gaze on (Y/n).
. . .
"We want everyone to know what you do to people like us," Cal says, his voice echoing through the silent stadium. "And we want you to stop before you do it to her."
"Talking about her?" (Y/n) says through gritted teeth, pushing Skye forward, her unloaded handgun pressed to the side of Skye's neck.
"You monster," Cal turns to (Y/n), his brow furrowing.
(Y/n)," Coulson breathes, looking at his daughter in disbelief.
"Daisy," Cal says, gazing at his daughter. "What have they done to you?"
"We put her on the Index," May says, coming up and pressing her unloaded handgun into the small of Skye's back. "Now we decide - contain her or put her down." May shoves the gun into Skye's back again. "Your call."
"Tell me they didn't hurt you," Cal says, stepping forward to gaze into his daughter's watery eyes.
"Talk to me, not her," (Y/n) presses the gun into Skye's neck, hating herself for being so harsh, but she knows she has to keep up the facade.
"Now, you let these people go, or your daughter dies," May says, shoving the gun into Skye's back for the third time.
"Oh, no, no, no, no. I can't lose you again," Cal whispers. "Don't you see what they do? You've been changed. And it scares the hell out of them. I think it's wonderful." Skye swallows thickly. "I can help. So, tell me. What's your thing?" he asks. "I mean, I was hoping it was wings."
"Talk to me, not her," May growls.
"You chose them," Cal glares at (Y/n), then Coulson, his eyes full of disdain. "You threatened to kill me, your own father. You didn't know any better. They raised you. They brainwashed you. You won't kill her," Cal says, turning away. "Though, the truth is, you're capable of such things. That's what I'm trying to teach this whole damn town. I don't even know if they're listening. Maybe they'll listen to you," Cal hands the microphone to a man beside him.
The man with the microphone exhales deeply, but a blue energy field surrounds Cal and takes him away.
"Skye," Garner says, running over to the brunette. "Come on. Come on."
"(Y/n), go with them," May gives (Y/n) a slight nudge. "You're the only one who can keep her calm."
(Y/n) takes Skye's hand in her own, pulling her along.
Skye's breathing stutters as she watches Coulson and May fight Cal's companions.
Skye breathes deeply and the stadium begins to rumble.
Everyone looks at her and (Y/n) drops Skye's hand, clutching her left wrist.
The rumbling stops and (Y/n) looks over at Skye's hands and lower arms which were darkening with bruises.
Skye's vision goes blurry and (Y/n) moves behind Skye to catch her as she fell.
(Y/n) hits the ground, her wrist searing with pain, but Skye lands safely in her lap.
. . .
"You're awake," Simmons says, sighing with relief.
Skye looks around, looking startled and slightly scared as she tries to sit up.
"You're probably feeling a little drowsy," Simmons says, her voice soft. "We gave you something to help you sleep." Skye sits up, looking at her bruised hands.
"Why do I have these bruises?" Skye asks, her gaze finding (Y/n) sitting in a chair, her left wrist resting on the table, Fitz gently running his fingers down (Y/n)'s wrist before he leaves the room.
"I ran some tests," Simmons says. "The bruising was caused by capillary ruptures in your arms. X-rays showed more than seventy-five hairline fractures from your clavicle to your fingers."
"I . . . I don't understand," Skye stutters, Fitz returning to the room with a black velcro cast. He tightly wraps (Y/n)'s wrist with the cast, (Y/n) gritting her teeth.
"You weren't stopping your powers, Skye," Garner tells her. "You were . . . directing them inward."
Skye lets out a shaky breath, blinking back her tears.
(Y/n) runs her own fingers down her fractured wrist.
A guilty looking Skye meets (Y/n)'s gaze and Skye can see (Y/n)'s love and worry reflected there, along with pain.
"What am I supposed to do?" Skye asks.
"I made the casts from compression microfibers to help contain the shaking, minimize the damage," Simmons leans forward and (Y/n) narrows her eyes angrily.
"That's not what she means, Simmons," May says before she focuses her gaze gently on Skye. "We'll figure this out, Skye."
. . .
(Y/n) lies down on Skye's stomach, letting out soft kitten purrs that sooth Skye back to sleep, her bruised fingers gently brushing (Y/n)'s orange fur.
(Y/n) had realized that when using her powers, it was more helpful if she knew a lot about the animal she was going to change into.
. . .
"Well, the bruising has started to fade," Simmons says, looking at Skye's arm. (Y/n) is sitting close to Skye, (Y/n)'s fractured wrist resting on Skye's lower thigh, rubbing it with a thumb. "though I'm afraid these stress fractures will take a bit more time to heal."
"Great. Tried to go Zen to keep my powers in check only to find myself -" Skye lets out a soft yelp as he tries to pull her 'casts' back onto her arms "- back on the D.L."
"The down low?" both (Y/n) and Fitz ask in unison.
"The disabled list," Skye says, nudging (Y/n) with a knee.
"Oh, yeah," (Y/n) says, looking a little embarrassed.
"That makes more sense," Fitz agrees
"Yeah, and now I'm all . . . " Skye studies her bruised hands.
"You know, it could just be growing pains - from the new powers," Fitz says, trying to reassure Skye.
"It's okay, Fitz," Skye says, gently closing her fists. "You don't have to put a positive spin on this."
"I'm not doing that. I would never patronize the -" the three women look up at him. "Well, the - Things change, that's what I'm saying. So, maybe if you can learn to control this, then . . . You could have Avengers-level powers," Fitz says, looking at Skye. "Something like Captain America, even."
"I'd say more Thor-ish powers," (Y/n) corrects. "Thor's the God of Thunder. Tremors got, well, tremors. Both elemental based powers."
"I think it best we keep in mind the destructive capabilities of Skye's powers," Simmons says. "If there is an Avengers equivalent, right now, I'm afraid it's the Hulk."
(Y/n) turns her gaze on Simmons, an eyebrow raised.
"Well, Hulk saved the world, last I checked," Fitz says.
"You're absolutely right," Simmons agrees. "But given the choice, I believe Bruce Banner would not hesitate to cure himself once and for all."
"Actually," (Y/n) says, meeting Simmons's gaze. "Bruce is  trying to find out a way to make himself and the Hulk the same being. Just because something is powerful, doesn't mean it's dangerous. Steve Rogers, for example, is a super-solder, but he's as gentle as a mouse. People have the capacity to choose who or what they want to be, Simmons."
"Well then, maybe we should be glad that Bruce hasn't tried to cure himself then," Fitz says.
"Oh, Fitz -" Simmons goes to say.
"Don't 'oh, Fitz,' me," Fitz retorts and the BUS begins to shake.
(Y/n) lets her uninjured hand's fingers brush soothingly up and down Skye's arm.
The rumbling stops as Skye fixes her gaze on (Y/n)'s gentle, loving gaze.
"Sorry, Skye. It isn't really about you," Simmons says apologetically.
"I'm pretty sure it is," Skye says, frowning. "We'll go back to our cage," Skye says, sliding out of the the booth, (Y/n) following closely.
Fitz and Simmons watch (Y/n) and Skye closely. They watch as (Y/n)'s uninjured hand brushes one of Skye's bruised hand with a gentleness neither of the two had seen before.
Word Count: 7454 words
Skye / Daisy Johnson Taglist:
@imapotato
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Heir To The Throne
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Chapter 3: Blood Soaked Roses
There comes a day where all fathers pass their business down to their children. This was no ordinary business, this was the mafia. You were the sole heir to the throne and you didn’t want it. Your father’s right hands Derek and Aaron are tasked with convincing you otherwise, the last thing you expected to do was fall in love.
Mafia AU
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Derek Morgan x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of loss of sibling, tiniest mention of jeid (i’m sorry I had too), sibling teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, crying, swearing, lots of emotions, mentions of blood and injuries, choking (not the sexy kind), violence, threats, mentions of death and death wish, mentions of hotchniss, kissing, guns and the use of. 
Word Count: 4.4k
Author’s Note: surprise motherfucker, there you go :) also what y/n says to them is not a reflection of my feelings towards the characters. I was just in a pissy mood when wrote it LMAO
Masterlist // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4
----
The smell lingering through your bedroom, the balcony doors were open with the curtains drawn. The sun shined into your room, the light hit a vase of red roses sat on the table beside your mirror, the reflection of the glass caught your eye. Rolling out of bed, you smell the roses, literally. Every year like clockwork, you’ve received a bunch of red roses, assuming they were from your father or your brother, you went along with your day. After James passed, you assumed they were from your father but they never seemed to have a note attached to them. This year was different, there was a little white paper slipped into the corner of the vase. Pulling it out, it read: 
“Happy birthday my darling, 
Love always.” 
There was no name, no signature, just some smudged ink on the paper and the birthday wish. There was no way of knowing who it was from. You stepped onto the balcony, the warm sun beating down onto your skin as the mist from the water below blew with the breeze. Your mind wandered back to the conversation you had Matt the night before. 
“y/n.. we can’t do this anymore”
“What ? What are you talking about?”
“This,” he refers to you and him, “we can’t keep doing this. You’re going to lead this shit one day and you can’t spend all your time with me, there has to be something more for you.”
“Where’s this coming from ? What’s going on?” 
No explanation, no communication, no nothing. 
Radio silence and it was driving you fucking crazy. 
Looking back at the roses sitting on the table, Matt was the only thing on your mind. Maybe this was his way of saying that he wanted to make up without actually saying it. Before you could leave to find Matt, there was a knock on your door. “Come in!” you shouted, your father walked in. 
“There she is!” he walked over, his hands grabbing your face. 
“Good morning to you too pops” you smiled at him, he kissed your cheek and pulled you into a hug. 
“Happy birthday Bella” 
“Thank you” 
“Have you picked something to wear for tonight ? Penelope was telling me that you hadn't found anything yet” 
“Oh I did but you have to wait until tonight to see it” 
He nodded, he explained that he’d be in meetings for the majority of the day but if you needed anything that you could let Derek or Aaron know. You told him that you rather die than talk to them on your own free will. Your father left you in the room, you sat down on the bed. Once again, your mind wanders back to Matt, it then drifts over to your brother. The memory of your last birthday with him flooding in. 
“Wake up you troll” James shouted as he sat on your bed and pulled the blanket off of you. “Shhh, I'm still sleeping” you roll over which made him smile. 
“I’m taking you on a trip.” he leans back against the headboard. The promise of a trip made you sit up. Your eyes flickering over to the vase filled with red roses on your bedside table.
“Where are we going ?” you ask the guy sitting beside you, you leaned over to smell the flowers.
“Paris, ma soeur” James smiled at you, the mention of Paris made your face light up. James would go to the ends of the death and back for you. Your happiness came before everything else to him. 
“Are you serious ?” you look over at him, he nods. 
“I know you’ve always wanted to go and I rather be the one that takes you than some stupid boy” his comment made you roll your eyes. James wasn't the biggest fan of you dating. You pulled him into a hug anyways, “Thank you J, this is going to be the best trip” 
“You’re welcome munchkin, happy 16th” he kissed the top of your head.
Spencer walked into your bedroom, a cupcake with a candle sticking out of it. “Oh yeah, come on in. It’s a free for all in here today” you rolled your eyes, Spencer laughs. “Don’t make me smash this cupcake on your face” he sat beside you on the bed, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the candle. 
“Happy birthday y/n” he held the cupcake in front of you, waiting for you to blow the candle out. One big breath and the little flame was out, he handed the cupcake to you. “Thank you Spence,” “anything for you, you know that” he smiled at you. Getting up off the bed, Spencer walked to the balcony. 
“Why is it that your room has the best view?” he questioned
“Why is it that you’re always complaining?” you rebutted 
“Who are the roses from ?” he pried again 
“I don't know, there’s a note but no name” 
Spencer walked over and pulled the note out of the roses, reading it out loud. “That sounds like something your dad would say” he tucked the note back into the flowers. “That’s what I thought too but he came to see me and he seemed surprised to see the flowers too” 
“Looks like you have a secret admirer” 
“As if” you groan, laying back onto the bed. “You bringing a date tonight ?” 
Spencer looked at you like you were crazy, “who would I even bring ?” 
“JJ” you laughed, Spencer gagged. “Been there, done that and I won't be going back. I’m offended you even suggested that.” 
“Oh Spence, don't you love her ?” you teased him, getting up off the bed. Spencer gave you a shove, “y/n shut up, I'll literally push you off the balcony.” his comment made you laugh. “Okay get out now, I have to get ready” 
“It’s only 2 o'clock, the party's not ‘till 6″ 
“You can’t rush perfection” 
“And somehow you’re still ugly” 
You gasp, pushing Spencer towards the door and out of the room. You shut the door and your back is up against it, your eyes drifting back to the flowers. 
--
The bottom of your dress dragged along the marble stairs as you walked down. The party was well under way and you, were as usual, fashionably late. Pushing the large doors open, everyone was around the room, and as usual, they were waiting on you to arrive. 
“Bella!” your father called out to you, making his way over to you with a blonde woman by his side.
“Hey” you smile at him
“You remember Krystall, right ?” She gives you a smile and you muster up the realest smile you could, “of course I do, nice to see you again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go say hi to everyone else”
Leaving the two of them by the door, you make your way around the room, saying hello to everyone as you go. Matt stood by the bar with Luke and Penelope, you made your way over to them. 
“Y/n! You look gorgeous!” Penelope squeals as she gives you a hug, she always makes you smile. “Says you! you look stunning!” you stood beside her, “and Luke, you clean up nicely. It’s nice to see you in something other than jeans” you joke, Luke rolled his eyes.
“Don’t push it y/n” 
“Whatever grumpy” 
There's a hand on your lower back, you look back to see Matt behind you. “Happy birthday” he said to you, he stepped towards you but hesitated before giving you a hug. “Thank you” you smile, you’d be lying if you said it didn't feel good to be back in his arms. It was weird, Matt acting like he hadn't just ended things the night before. You were determined to have a good time so you pushed the feelings aside in hopes of getting drunk enough that you wouldn't remember. 
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, letting go of you. 
“Yeah, thanks” 
Your back is up against the bar as Matt goes to get you a drink. You can see JJ making her way over to Spencer who was standing with Tara. 
Should you be a good cousin and rescue him or do you leave him for being an ass earlier ? 
“Spencer! Come do shots with me!” you shout from across the room, Spencer looks towards you, your eyes on JJ and not him, he looks over his shoulder to see her a few feet behind him. He and Tara excuse themselves from the conversation they were having and walk over to the bar. 
Second one it is then. 
“Thought I should save you from your girlfriend” 
“Not my girlfriend but thank you” 
JJ was giving you a dirty look from across the room, she stood with Emily who was also giving you a dirty look. The fact that they hate you so much brings you a lot of pleasure. You blow them a kiss and give them a smile, they both roll their eyes and turn away from you. 
“Did you see your dad with Krystall ?” Tara asks, taking a sip of her drink. Your father was dancing with Krystall. The song that was playing was a song that he shouldn't have been dancing to, not with her at least. It was your parents’ wedding song, something you had only ever seen the two of them dance too. Any event whenever that song came on, it was the two of them on the floor dancing the night away. After she passed, you danced with him, not anyone else. Especially not some woman he just started seeing. He’s his own person but he’s also your father, there's no way you were going to let this slide. 
“Here you go” Matt comes back with a glass, “maybe you should get the bottle” you look at him, he knew you well enough to sense when something was wrong. He did as he was told and headed off to get the bottle of you. 
-- 
Half way through the night, the room started to feel stuffy and heated with far too many people in there. Truthfully, you weren’t much for birthdays, not after James passed. Every year since has just been you and Spencer going on a trip or for dinner but never a big party like this. Your father was just trying to make up for the fact that he missed your 21st by throwing this party. Not you didn't appreciate the efforts, because you did but you didn’t want to be there anymore. 
It was a little after midnight, you had lost your heels somewhere along the way to the garden. You tiptoed across the stones, stumbling as you went along. Managing to make your way to the bench, you sat down, the bottle resting beside you on the ground.
The sound of footsteps caused you to turn. “What do you want ?” you shout into the darkness, not sure as too who's behind you. “Dave’s looking for you” Derek stepped forward, coming into view. At this current moment, you didn't know whether to tell him to leave or just return with him. The world felt like it was spinning backwards and upside down simultaneously.  You laid back against the bench, the cold stone hitting your bare back caused you to shift slightly, the moonlight shined down onto the roses in the garden, Derek stood a few feet away from you, watching you as you laid there. 
Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, to yell at him for causing your brother’s death, for not protecting him. The other part of you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, you knew Derek had always been there for you, even when you didn't need him to be. He ever so happened to conveniently there when needed. Sitting up, you looked over at him, looking the tall man up and down. Black suit jacket to match his pants with a white shirt but there was no tie to accompany the shirt, just the first 3 buttons undone. He was different from Aaron in a way you couldn't explain. Derek had this naturally strong aura, one you didn't see him push forward like Aaron, who always made it look like he needed to prove that he was alpha male. Derek had a gentle side to him, he could be harsh on you but not in the same way he was with everyone else. His watch sat on his right wrist, something you noticed as you were glancing down at his hand. There were smudges of ink on his side of hand like he had written something and it smudged against his skin. Your mind flickered back to the note in your roses the morning before. 
“It was you” 
“Excuse me ?”
“You left the roses in my room.” 
Derek gave you a small smile, carefully stepping towards you. “Yes, it was. What gave it away ?” he sat beside you, looking over at you. Glancing down at his hand that was resting on his lap, you reached out and held it. Your finger rubbed across the smudged ink on the side of his large hand, neither of you said anything, you just sat there holding his hand. 
You broke the silence first, your voice wavered for a moment as you felt the tears well up, “He- he used to leave me roses red ones just like those” avoiding Derek’s looks, your eyes fixated on his hand, your finger continuing to rub against the ink smudge. “I know” he whispered, his free hand coming up to your chin, tilting your face up towards him. The tears threaten to spill, suddenly your body felt cold, the words physically hurt to say. 
“I miss him.” 
“I know” 
The tears fell onto your face, you tried your best to hold it together but you couldn't anymore. You always missed your brother but never had you actually said it out loud to anyone, not even to James when you visit his grave. Derek held you close to him, letting you cry on his shoulder, literally. Was Derek the person you expected to spill your emotions too ? No, he never was but he was here, he didn't make you feel like it was wrong or that it was a burden, he just let you cry, and yell and hit him until you felt that you let it out.  Within the span of a few minutes, you cried until you couldn't anymore, your chest heaving and your hand on your leg as you hunched over. Derek’s hand rested on your back, “do you want to go up to bed ? y/n, let me take you up to bed” the back of your hand pressed to your face, wiping away the tears. Surely there was makeup smudged across your face but right now you didn't care.  
The sadness left but the anger set in. Picking up the bottle from beside the bench, you took a rather large swing. The liquor burned on the way down but you didn’t care, bunching up your dress in one hand and the bottle in the other, Derek stood up as you marched off towards the villa. 
“Y/n! Don’t!” he shouted as he chased after you. He had seen you grow from a teenager to the woman you were today, the next leader of the mafia. Although the two of you weren't close, he knew you well enough to know when you were upset, and you weren't just upset, you were furious. 
Storming into the villa, you walked through the large brown doors. Everyone was laughing, having the time of their lives. Most of the strangers your father had invited left, it was just “family” now. The bottle fell from your hand, it hit the floor and shattered into a million tiny pieces, the liquor from the bottle spilling across the tiles, pooling near your bare feet. The room went silent, all eyes were on you now. 
Walking through the broken glass, your body felt numb to pain, all you felt was anger. You had lost the one person that cared about you and you couldn't move on, you thought you had finally moved on with Matt but he too, had left you. The blood from your feet dragged and smudged across the white marble tiles as you walked to the middle of the room. 
“All of you,” you scoffed, “you say you’re my family but none of you, not even you,” pointing towards your father, “truly care about me” 
“Bella what are yo-” your father spoke but you cut him off. 
“You've been pushing the idea of your children running this place since - for as long as I could remember. You forced it onto James but he never wanted it. He just wanted a life of happiness and freedom, and you took that from him!” you shouted at your father, his expression softened as you walked towards him. “You forced it into him and when he died, you forced it onto me. If you hadn't fucking done that then maybe James would still be here! I won't let you take my life from me. I rather die than let you do what you did to James, to me.” 
Krystall clung to Dave’s arm, she looked scared but pleased at the same time. “What are you smiling about bitch ? Think you can get rid of me so easily ? Take my father away from me? Yeah I might fucking hate his guts, but we’re blood. You’ll never replace me or my mother. She was the real queen around here, and you-” laughing, you shook your head, “you’re nothing but the skank of the month.” 
Turning to Spencer who stood beside Tara with Penelope and Luke, you shook your head. “I called you guys my friends, you knew about my father’s secret little whore and not one of you ever told me a thing.” Luke reached for your arm, you pushed him off of you. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’m not one of your little bitches, don't try and handle me.”
You paced the room for a moment, no one dared tell you to calm down or stop. Emily and JJ stood beside Aaron, whispering to each other. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? The two of you ungrateful bitches live in my fucking house and you do nothing but talk shit and you’re not even useful. Shut the fuck before I break your jaws.” you spat, your words laced with venom. Both of them stood there, looking at you like you were speaking a foreign language. 
Matt walked back into the room, you shifted your attention back onto him. “And you!” you walked over, your feet dragged across the floor and through the glass once more, “Y/n, you’re bleeding, are you okay ?” 
“Am I okay ? Yeah Matt, I’m fucking fantastic. You just up and leave, no explaination other than the fact that you “can’t do this” whatever the fuck that means.” you roll you eyes “You’re a fucking piece of shit, do you know that ? I opened up to you, about something I never talked about because I thought I could trust you. Oh how I was wrong, your bitch ass just upped and left, just like everyone else.” 
“All of you are nothing but a bunch of blood sucking, ass kissing, ungrateful bitches!” you screamed, Aaron made his way over to you, picking you up and tossed you over his shoulder. “Put me down! you bitch!” you kicked and screamed, hitting his back as he walked out of the room. Derek stood by the door, he watched as Aaron carried you up the stairs. Aaron walked into your room and kicked the door shut, he dropped you down onto your bed. Landing with a groan, Aaron looked over at you.
“What the fuck was that ?!” he shouted, he was practically in your face although he was across the room 
“Awh what’s wrong baby? Mad I yelled at your bitch ? Oh sorry,” you teased him with a giggle, “your girlfriend ?” you stood up, you walked over to the balcony, Aaron watched you from his spot. You looked back over at him, your eyes on the white rug where you previously stood, the little drops of red blood staining the pure white fur that sat on the floor. Aaron watched you, watching him. 
Slowly making his way over, he stood in front of you. The two of you looking at each other dead in the eyes, his hand raises. Aaron’s hand rested on your chest, your eyes flicker down to the man’s hand and then back up to his face. A few moments after, you feel his hand wrap around your neck. Aaron pushes you up against the railing of the balcony, his body pressed up against yours as your back arched over the cold metal railing. One hand clung onto Aaron’s and the other laid useless by your side. 
“You ever talk to her that way again,” Aaron spat, your back was off the railing down, your toes barely touching the cold concrete of the balcony. The only thing holding you in place was Aaron’s hand, “and I'll kill you.” he finished his sentence. Aaron wouldn't drop you, he didn't dare. He didn't have the guts, you called his bluff. 
“Drop me Aaron.” you looked at him, your hand dropping from his. 
“What ?” he stared into your eyes, your face blank, no expression or fear. 
You didn't fear death, it was inevitable, we were all going to die one day. 
“Drop me Aaron, kill me if you want to. Be a man and live up to your words.” a wicked smile on your face, looking up at him, he pulled you back up from the railing. Your waist pressed up against the railing and Aaron’s body still pressed up against yours. Aaron let go of your throat, there were a few light bruises by the side of your neck in the shape of fingerprints. Aaron didn't know what to do, to say he was sorry or to leave. 
Aaron left you standing on the balcony, he walked out of your room. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could. Turning the hallway, he bumped into someone. 
Emily. 
“There you are, is she gone ?” she rolled her eyes at the thought of you. Aaron cleared his throat, his mind flickering back to the moment he just had in your room. 
“Yeah, she’s sleeping.” he said quietly, his girlfriend linked arms with him. “How about we head to bed then ?” she walked down the hallway with Aaron, pushing the door to their room open.
 Aaron followed her reluctantly, she stood in front of him. He unzipped her dress and she sauntered off the bathroom. The couple got ready for bed in silence, neither of them speaking a word to the other. Getting into bed quietly, Emily leaned over to kiss him and reluctantly, he kissed her back. Their relationship felt more like a routine rather than a relationship. 
Emily returned to her side of the bed, Aaron laid there quietly, his mind wandering all over. Not surprising, his mind wandered back to you. He’d be lying if he said he didn't think about you often, you seemed to live in his head rent free. Aaron’s mind wandered back to the moment he had with you in your bedroom. The expression on your face was unreal, you didn't tense up or cry, you were fearless. You weren't scared of him or death, you were ready to go, it was like you had come to peace with death and there was nothing scarier than that. 
A woman with no fears is a woman that should be feared. 
Aaron can’t help but think about that moment, everything comes back to that moment. The way you looked at him, the way you let go of his hand, your words to the way his body felt pressed up against yours. Aaron thought back to his conversation with Derek in the armoury. Derek looked so hurt that you didn't like him, then again, you didn’t like anyone that was too “in your business” as you would say. The thought of you brought a smile to his face. 
Holy shit, did he like you ? There was no way. 
“Oh fuck” he whispered, Emily hummed. Aaron glanced over at the woman beside him, he loved Emily but she doesn’t make him feel the way you did. There was no excitement between them, it was routine, a front they put on for everyone. His mind was always on you, what you were doing, who you were doing, what you were wearing, how you looked. 
Aaron liked you. 
Just as he was coming to terms with the fact that he’s in love with the boss's daughter, a noise rang through the villa. 
Bang. 
The sound of a single gunshot and shattering glass. Aaron sat up in bed, he looked out the window, there was no one outside. The sound of multiple gunshots rang through the villa and an earth shattering scream. 
It was you and you were screaming for him. 
For Aaron. 
--- 
Ahhh finally chapter 3! What do we think? lil bit of a cliff hanger there :) 
Taglist: @ssahoodrathotchner @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @tclaerh​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @laurenxreynolds​ @morcias​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @hqtchner​ @averyhotchner​ @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @mggsprettygirl​ @simxican​ @sunshinepower17​ @emilysbau @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @lexieshuntingsstuff​ @archiveofadragon
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hotchley · 3 years
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i saw your reblog of the Spencer giving Aaron a father's day card thing and i can't stop thinking about how Aaron is the father figure to the entire team now.
(yes I'm also especially thinking about that one scene of Spencer and Derek stuck in the malfunctioning lift shrieking for Aaron just because. 🥴 dad!Hotch ftw!!!!!)
i know this concept has probably been done hundreds of times already but imagine: (SORRY THIS IS GOING TO BE A REALLY LONG ASK, I deeply apologise in advance)
[tw food/eating habits, some references to murder cases because you know this is Criminal Minds, some slight spoilers for people who haven't really watched the show and also reference & mention of autism & a character on the autism spectrum -> just a heads up, a disclaimer, I'm in no way diagnosed with autism, so if i have misrepresented autism, or made any mistakes, i apologise, it wasn't my intention, and i welcome all feedback & criticism — i genuinely want to learn]
a year after Spencer joins the BAU, Aaron notices & becomes very concerned over Spencer's (super bad) eating habits aka him only drinking coffee and forgetting to eat actual proper food when he gets absorbed in cases or research or reading etc -> which results in Aaron absolutely being like "hey Spencer let's grab lunch together" almost everyday just so Spencer eats (healthy, full meals)
(also Spencer picking up on this after Aaron "casually" gets him lunch/treats him to dinner/invites him over for meals for almost every day of the week and he was initially almost irritated/offended until he realised he could use Aaron's habit to make Aaron himself eat properly too because this hypocritical bastard doesn't eat properly himself either so every alternate day you can see Spencer purposely not going for lunch breaks while sneaking glances at Aaron's office just waiting for him to notice and drag them both to lunch together 😌)
also I really think Spencer is on the autistic spectrum (high functioning, imo, but I'm not really sure how this works, and I'd have to do more research) so I'd like to imagine Aaron knows that too because he's noticed Spencer's behaviors + Spencer got an official diagnosis and told him about it maybe 6-7 months into joining the BAU so I really think Aaron lets Spencer stim (physically, his hand gestures) on their lunch break because he knows that Spencer can't really do that in front of the others, so even when they're on cases, he would take Spencer out either for a private lunch or dinner or something, just the two of them, and he'd let Spencer stim & talk about any subject of his fancy as much as he wants to (I'm pretty sure someone wrote a fic like this and I absolutely can't remember the name or the author but I really LOVED the idea too)
initially Spencer was really taken aback too, because you know, this isn't something you do with your boss, of all people, but Hotch had always meant what he says and his facial expression and body language suggested that he was being absolutely sincere and serious about this, so Spencer tentatively started talking, and as their meal progressed, he eventually got comfortable enough to just go on, and not once did Aaron cut him off rudely, until the end of their meal, when Aaron couldn't continue to pretend to drink his soup because he'd finished it somehow with those incredibly small spoonfuls, and he'd had to gently tell Spencer that they had to go back, but Spencer wasn't upset, because he'd just got over an hour to talk about this recent seminar about the connection of ancient Greek mythology to the developments of the society in ancient Greece which no one had ever done for him before and he's full, satisfied and beyond elated because Hotch really didn't have to do this, but he did anyways
at first it was just something between them but eventually Derek noticed & like in the end I think it's a kind of open secret between Aaron, Spencer & Derek and now when Derek notices Aaron doing it he gives Aaron a small nod and he wards off & deals with the questions that the others have when they inevitably notices the private meals Aaron & Spencer has
speaking of Derek, Aaron definitely has 1 on 1 time with Derek too, but doing different things. Derek's thing is sports & home renovations, and he repairs/maintains cars & bikes when he can, and I like to imagine Aaron knowing about his hobbies and casually asking Derek about the home renovation he's working on one time (before or early S1) Derek came into his office to submit a case file, and Derek being kind of shocked/caught by surprised initially (because he knows Hotch has a soft spot for the kid because he's much younger and much, much more inexperienced but Derek's older and should know better, so Hotch won't do the whole private lunch thing with him, right?) but then he grins and starts telling Aaron about how "I got that place absolutely shining right now, man" and then he invites Aaron over to take a look at the place out of courtesy/habit (his mama raised him as a good, polite young man, and no way Hotch would even say yes right?) and to his surprise once again, Aaron does accept his invitation
after that one time, Aaron begins casually asking him about his projects and even starts offering to help him do some of the painting and decorating (to be fair, it calms Aaron too, to have a getaway from Haley and initially from the crying baby, because while he absolutely loved Haley and Jack with all his heart, some days, some days he just couldn't take it, all the stress from Strauss and from trying to be a good father unlike his own, and he had to take some time off to himself, and painting walls is calming and therapeutic to him in some sense) & Derek and Aaron start bonding over hotdogs while sitting out on the front porch of some halfway remodelled house, talking about the latest sports news (they support different baseball teams but that's okay, because Derek gets to grin at Hotch and ask him to pay up when Hotch's team loses to his, and Aaron gets to raise his eyebrows with that small knowing smirk of his and ask Derek to "complete this by the next weekend, will you" when Derek's team loses to his)
when Aaron recruits Penelope, he's read her file, or what little the FBI's cyberteam got on her anyways. he knows the Black Queen's reputation, and he knows that the cyberteam really don't trust her and recommended high levels of surveillance, but the moment he saw her through the glass of the interrogation room and her resume & application on pink paper, he knew that she's not just what the file said she is. initially, she sticks to the "bureau regulated office attire" because you know, Penelope knows she's lucky, she should've been jailed for what she did, she was jailed, until this Aaron Hotchner guy decided, somehow, that she was deserving to be on his team, even after looking at her resume, which she had written on pink paper out of pure spite (because nothing in the FBI rulebooks said anything about submitting your application on specialized coloured paper anyways) but she was moody and unhappy because she's stuck in this tiny office having to answer the phone whenever agents called to ask for details on icky, gruesome murders and disgusting, vile murderers so she decides that hey, since no one ever comes in here anyways, she might as well do some re-decorating right? so she starts bringing in her own soft toys and figurines and starts amassing a whole collection of soft, plushy, and colourful toys in because it's her office and if she has to deal with all these yucky stuff on a daily basis she's going to make it at least bearable to be in here
one day, some tall, stern looking guy just comes into her office with this Tupperware in his hands saying "hey, Garcia right? my wife made some extra cupcakes for the team, you want some?" and she asks "do i know you?" and he blinks, stands there for one, two seconds before- "sorry, i forgot we haven't actually met. Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, assistant unit chief of BAU Team 1, nice to meet you," [i like to headcannon that before Boston & all, Hotch was Gideon's assistant, some kind of assistant unit chief probably, but while he wasn't yet the unit chief he was definitely taking care of most, if not all of the administration matters i.e. hiring new agents etc already because let's be real Gideon is caring & capable but really hands off sometimes (also in S1E1 Derek referred to Gideon as their Unit Chief so I assumed Hotch took over the position full time, officially somewhere between S1E1 and S1E2 or 3)]
and then Garcia's brain kind of short-circuits because holy shit this is her BOSS, aka the guy who somehow, crazily looked at her resume and decided to HIRE her and she just asked him if she knew him OH GOD ALL THOSE FIGURINES- and she tries to explain because she really didn't mean to break any rules with them and they aren't, are they? and she can remove them but just, please, she can't go back to prison.
but then Agent Hotchner just goes "hey, hey, Penelope. it's fine. I understand. this is your office, and you have the right to decorate it. I'm not going to fire you over.... My Little Ponies? and uh, some unicorns?" and Penelope can't help but laugh because he genuinely looks baffled by her collection on her desk, and did he just call her Penelope?
and after that, once, after a bad case that Aaron knew affected Penelope (it involved murdered parents & their only child left orphaned and it just hit too close to home for Penelope), he stopped by a local toy shop and bought the brightest, most sparkly, most colourful thing he could find in there (it ended up being a small figurine of a princess on a small, detachable throne that could light up and play some really funky pop music. Aaron cringed internally as he brought it over to the counter, and awkwardly nodded as the cashier asked, "buying this for your daughter, sir? she's going to love it, it's the latest in a collectable series" and he pretended to not see the questioning eyebrow that Derek gave him after seeing the package) and when he presented it to Penelope when they got back, he got the biggest and most bone crushing hug ever from Penelope because "aw that's so sweet, thank you! and you got me the latest in the collection! it's limited edition!" and it just ended up becoming a tradition — Penelope always looks forward to the end of a case now, not only because that means her people are coming home, safe, in one piece (sometimes debatable but still, they're coming home, to her) but it also means that Hotch has brought her yet another tiny figurine or souvenir to add to her collection and she can't wait to see what it is, and Hotch always, always, finds the time after they've wrapped up the case, before the jet leaves, to pop by a local toy shop to get both Penelope and later, when he's older, Jack some toys or souvenir from wherever state he's in, because he wants both of them to know, that despite all the bad out there, there is still good in the world, and they should never forget that
OKAY this ask is SUPER LONG already i apologise skfjsk i have ideas for JJ & Emily but idk if you'd even wanna continue reading them... (maybe.... give me a sign and I'll send another ask and write it? 🥴)
anyways this was just something that came up and i had to write it out 🥺 sorry for spamming you, i hope you're having a great day/night ahead.
- 🌙
Hi so I'm putting everything below the cut for scrolling purposes x
He is!!
Oh my god, I love that scene. It came up in a TikTok about ships, because Person A and Person B are both very smart when they're alone, but put them together and it cancels out, and it made me laugh.
I also love Dad Hotch. Like I love him as much as I love "fighting to keep his emotions in check because he needs to be a leader, but you can tell from the slight change in tone, or the slight glaze of his eyes that he's seconds away from crying" Hotch. Which is saying something.
DON'T APOLOGISE FOR LONG ASKS!! That's what the keep reading on posts is for :))
Oh I love how much Hotch cares about Reid, and of course Reid uses it to his advantage to get Hotch to do the same, because they're similar in that way. Also, he would definitely start grinning when Hotch looks down at his empty plate like: oh. Platonic Hotchreid is everything to me, because it's these two people that have been caretakers their entire life trying to look after another person that wouldn't let anyone do that and it's just... the HOTCH ANGST POTENTIAL THAT IS SO UNTAPPED!!!
Also, not a criticism of you, but from what I've heard from people is that functioning labels are harmful and shouldn't be used because it misrepresents the situation!
I love that idea though!! And Derek being protective over them so he's just like: no, you won't interrupt them, and I will take control of the situation for a few hours AAH!!
OH I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT MORGAN AND HOTCH BONDING!! It's so perfect!! I love the idea of Morgan teaching Hotch to do things, and Hotch realising how relaxing he finds it to do these things.
And because we can't have nice things: he refuses to go after Foyet breaks into his apartment because he doesn't deserve peace, but then Morgan just uses his key, drags him out, takes him to a house and presses a brush into his hand because he's not going to let his friend self destruct like this.
EVERYTHING ABOUT GARCIA!! OH MY GOD!! I need to get some work done, so I'm going to finish up there, but seriously!! Amazing!! I love the idea of Hotch getting her little figurines and stuff <33
(shameless self promo, she does the same for him in "and he will come back home" hehe)
I would love to hear the Emily and JJ ones!! I hope that's the sign you need :)
Don't apologise for spamming I was having a dull day, and I hope you have a good day too!
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Text
Fucks not Found
Ghosts
Summary: You hack, that's what you do. Dying to do so freely, wasn't what you had expected. Meeting the weirdest fucking squad; losing the best part of you; falling for a thief : was not planned.
Pairing : Four/Billy (Ben Hardy) - You
A/N: The story goes through the all movie, so I suggest you watch it before reading.
I don't own any characters other than Eight.
English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.
Tried my best to match Ryan Reynold's level of sass aha
Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]
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This is how you die.
"So you're the one who hacked the wrong guy" You swiftly turn around gasping at the sudden voice in your apartment
"Depends, you’re his hitman?" You were ready to run even if it means jumping by the window.
"Nooo, I'm an angel.” You snort at his sarcasm, unknown to you at this moment that he was full of it.
"Wanna disappear?" he asked taking a seat at the kitchen table eyeing your bags at the door.
"In a body bag? Slowly you make your way to the knives, just in case.
"You are a funny one, aren't you? I know the man you stole from, you won't get far until he got you. But, he emphasized, if you’re willing to do what's right.."
"I've already done my part for the flag." Assuming he was American by the way he talked.
"I'm not talking about shitty drug dealers. But evil war-lovers, genocide perpetrators, that kind of shitty so-called human. Those ones that are above the laws with governments' balls in their hands, ready to squish them.”
"That's gross" your brother appeared from the adjacent room. You let your mind consider the stranger’s offer as soon as you look at your confused brother, knowing he was in danger because of you.
“You two look at lot alike.” The guy leaned in, screwing his eyes at you both.
“We’re twin dumbass” your brother answered glancing at you wondering.
“What’s the deal?” you asked considering the offer
The guy smirked, “Well, to be short you die, and then you take down evil motherfuckers without governments’ backlash on you.” He tapped his fingers against the Formica table.
It took 5 minutes.
"One condition, my brother comes to!"
"What's he good at?" he crossed his arms.
"I can drive…Hold on what? Die? Who the fuck are you!?”
"Already too many questions” he rolled his eyes
"He's a hell of a driver, it got him under surveillance when he got chased by 6 police cars after an illegal race back in the States."
"So they caught up Muttley” the guy clucked his tongue
“Hey!”  
"No, you interfered almost ashamed, I told him to stop the car...I got motion sickness."
The guy erupted in laughter, you two watching him unamused.
_
“I’m more like Peter Perfect.”  Your brother mumbled as the guy left.
You look by the window discreetly, catching a glimpse of the guy mingling in the crowd. “You’re Muttley bro.”
A week later you got a text. The guy who called himself One had planned your fake death. A random trek in Italy’s mountains, an assumed fatal fall, no bodies recovered.
It was never supposed to be your life. But we all know nothing happens as it should.
Papà went to fight a war and disappeared, you were forced to move in America when you were 6.
Mammà never cope the loss of her motherland and husband. She died of a belated broken heart syndrome when you were 16. 
Both you and your brother were placed in a host family. It wasn’t a crappy family like it’s always the case in some tv show, they were nice and wealthy. The father was a tech engineer, somehow you took interest in his work and start learning to code, soon reading about hackers: white hats; black hats; “We are Legion”, you were hooked and skilled in a matter of time.
When you turned major though, things turned difficult, the host family had to let you go and Internal Affairs of your state caught you looking in their network. Which led to you working as a C.I for them, it was that or prison. Not thrilled by the idea but obliged to cooperate was your new motto.
Your brother had some job here and there but nothing steady, so money from the IA was welcome.
After a year and a half, I.A ditched you, it was rather good news in a way, they’ve erased your past mistakes but said they’d keep a distant eye on you.
So you moved on from your shithole that was the 1 bedroom apartment you and your brother shared and went to your parents’ hometown in Italy. Your brother was reluctant at first as he couldn’t even say hello in Italian, you taught him as your mamma had done it with you but he wasn’t that interested.
Working with people was not your forte, you were too bossy, so you got fired ... plenty of times: from a coffee shop, a rental bike shop and a tourist city tour bus thingy. So you started doing what you were good at, hacking for money, it went well for a few years, never being too greedy - until you hacked the wrong person and got in trouble.
That's how you became a Ghost and ended up in the middle of the California Desert.
_
One had built a squad. No names, only numbers to identify each other. Not calling your brother by his name was a challenge, same for him.
There were 7 of you.
One, the “boss”, a mysterious sassy billionaire who decided to fund his own strike team.
Two, a French blonde woman, pretty cold, a spy apparently
Three, a crazy hitman who couldn’t shut up
Four, a young parkour master and reformed thief
Five, a Doctor, but you heard she was actually working at a Dentist
Six, your brother, the annoying driver.
And then Eight, you, the Black Hat somehow becoming a hacktivist.
Why not Seven? Long story short, it was one more condition you’d submitted to One.
_
_SICILY
"Your focus determines your reality.”
“Oh for fuck's sake One, quit your Jedi bullshit!” you loosed your temper typing on your keyboard angrily. An entire week, an ENTIRE WEEK quoting Star Wars!
Four and Five laughed in the comm. One braced himself on the other end of the line. Three cut the heavy silence.
“Eight, Chiquita please stop yelling”
“I’m not a Chiquita stop saying that!”
“Ok ok chi…Eight, damn you’re stressful” 
“God, why do I have to team you up!!” One facepalm
“Now what?” Five asked
Radio silence
“Oh so now no one’s talking! What are you, 4?” One angrily called out to you 2.
“Yeah, uh high, literally.” Four answered One, you snorted.
“No ..  damn not you!”
“You called me Mate!” Four said offended
“No, shush – Eight are you done with the system?” he was about to lose it.
“I’ve been done with it the second Three called me Chiquita!” you crossed your arms in front of your laptop.
“Hey ..” “We’re not talking about that again!” One cut Three
“Can we get going now?” Two interfered, you heard her bike roaring.
“Finally, some sensed words.” One said wrapping it up.
Four entered the place you’d hacked the system of. Six and Two were not far in case of trouble.
“Four, the hard drive is in the main office. Second floor.” One enunciated, you followed Fours progression with the security cameras.
It was enlivening, stressful, but oh so exciting. When you worked with I.A you were never there when they’d go down in action, it was nothing but boring data researched and dealer’s MacBook.
“Freeze Four, guards coming east.” Switching cams you gave him a safe path.
“Ok, you’re clear. Now to your left, third door then turn right.”
Four got his hands on the hard drive containing all you needed to know about the next target.
“Well done.” One congratulated the team
“Thanks, thanks, It helps to have a sexy voice guiding you” Four chuckled, you blushed, sexy voice? is that even possible?
“Great, kid. Don’t get cocky.”
You rolled your eyes at the endless use of Star Wars' quotes.
“Hum that’s my sister, remember?” Six growled tightening the wheel
“Luke grab Solo, meet up in 15minutes at the hotel. Everyone move!” One instructed you smiled at the thought of being Leïa. Gosh, you were as much of a nerd as One.
Climbing down the jeep Three had rented, you laughed seeing your brother holding Four in an arm lock for a few seconds anyway, Four reversed the lock, pining your brother’s arms behind himself.
You passed by them “Easy with my twin please.” Four wasn’t releasing his hold so you stopped, turning back you lift an eyebrow at Four insisting he let him go.
“Oh!” he lifted his hands in defence taking a step back.
Grabbing your brother by the sleeves as he was about to jump on Four “Come on piccino” you made your way in the hotel laughing.
Your first big mission started a few weeks after, everyone gathered in The Haunted House as One called it, an old bunker, cheesy name for an HQ.
“You don’t get it, I need a CAR!”
“That’s a car, Six.” Three argued back.
“No that’s a heap, that thing won’t get us through the paved road of Italy, believe me.”
Four and Five were amused by the situation, Three had rent a truck and an old Volvo for this mission.
“Alright, shut up, we’ll get another car!” One declared, Six flicked to Three.
One resumed the mission’s details. Giving everyone their own missions. A simple mission, retrieve a lawyer’s smartphone.
In the midst of it, your hand flew to your brother’s head next to you. The smacked resonating between the walls of the unfinished bunker.
“Why ..why’d you hit him?” One asked confused, your brother was rubbing the back of his head frowning at you.
“Cain’s instinct.” You replied wriggling your fingers for him to continue. Four snorted, Six nudged him in the ribs.
In a few months, you had learned a lot from this weird squad. Learning to shoot was an obligation, Three was insane but a good teacher.
You’d asked Four to teach you some parkour in case of a chase. Six and Four became close friends in a matter of time. Five was nice, but you were never one to be good at making friends. Two was not a big talker and frankly, she scared you a little.
So you spend your free time hacking and reading, on the hammock installed between a dismantle plane and a dead tree. Not far from there you could hear Four skating in the empty pool and three at the makeshift shooting range.
Suddenly,
“EIGHT!”
Groaning you closed your book “WHAT!?
Your voice boomed against the caravan and lost itself in the desert, but you still hoped Four had heard. It was his thing, screaming your name instead of coming to you directly. At his silence, you wriggle out the hammock and strode to the pool.
“What’d you want skater boy?”
He was lying in the pool his board by his side. “Four?” you made your way to the ladder, “hey” you gently nudge him with your foot but he didn’t move.
“Four? you called out worried, “shit” knees hitting the vinyl liner checking if he was breathing, he wasn’t.
“Hey wake up, seriously dude don’t make me do CPR on you, I suck at it!” suddenly laughter erupted in your ears. Six appearing on the edge, Four chucked on the floor.
“Pranking you..he tried to breathe in, is always the best sis!” Six laughed even harder at your confused face. Still kneeling at Four’s side, he was looking at you laughing, until he wasn’t, catching a glimpse of worry melting with anger in your eyes.
Punching his left shoulder, you hurried out the pool. He stayed on the floor watching you go.
“Don’t make me do CPR I suck at it!” your brother was still laughing his brain's out.
_
“What was that?”
Four leaned on the dead tree near your head, his shadow offering some shade.
“A real bad joke?”
“No I mean, why’d you hit me?”
Sighing you clasped your book closed for the second time today “you really got me worried, happy?”
“No, you propped up on your elbow at his answer craning your head to him, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His warm hand slide in your hair at the base of your neck, he leaned in, letting you enough time to push him away if you wanted.
"Sorry" he whispered, his lips pressing in your temple gently, warmly for a few seconds. Catching yourself leaning in you almost fell off the swinging' hammock as he released his hold, he grinned and left not saying anything more.
"What the hell Four!!" you yelled at him, an ounce of laughter in your voice, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his own laughter filling the desert's silence.
FLORENCE
A/N: don't forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏
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ververa · 4 years
Text
Broken like me
A/N: There’s gonna be a 2nd part probably - if I manage to pull myslef together and write it. But I’m doing my best. 
 Hope you enjoy it <3
Cordelia Goode x fem!reader
Words: 2,200
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You had always known that you’re the one who needed to make it through life on your own. There was nobody who could help you or who was willing to help you at least. You’re fine for most of the time though. That’s what you kept telling yourself everyday looking in the mirror.
You didn’t want your life to be just a dreadful misfortune that befell you. Your teacher taught you that everything happens for a reason and life is a gift. So, you treated it that way. But no matter how hard you tried, you’re slowly turning colder and colder as more bad things kept happening to you. Before you knew you became numb and went into bad company.
Parties, alcohol, drugs… You’re using them as an escape from your problems, but they’re actually leading you to even bigger troubles.
“You’re fine Y/N. You can do it. You’ve got it!” you kept telling yourself every morning feeling that you’re falling apart
You would most likely break down if a woman from social service and a police officer hadn’t knocked at the door of your apartment. They’re there with your younger sister. They didn’t need to say anything, because you already knew something bad had happened. And you’re right - your parents had had a car accident.
“Miss Y/N… I’m really sorry”
You said nothing. You couldn’t speak at that moment. You only looked  at your little sister - Ava and smiled trying to stop the tears. You knew she still didn’t really get what’s going on. She was barely 5 after all. And that’s when your life changed forever. Since then you’re not on your own anymore. You had a little child that you’re supposed to provide for.
It’s really hard to get everything done. Your college was hell and at the club, where you had got a job, you weren’t paid enough to support both you and your sister. 
You’re devastated and furious, simply because you’re not able to get everything done. You needed to pay for the apartment, buy food, clothes and pay for your sister’s school. You’re a nervous wreck. That’s when your so called friend helped you with finding another job - a better one, as she said.
“Look, there is that agency… They need young, pretty girls such as yourself… You just go out with rich people…”
You knew exactly what your friend was doing and you didn’t really like it. That’s not what you wanted to do in your life, so you’re hesitant.
“I know you don’t like being close with people, but you don’t always have to have sex with them… Think about your sister Y/N. She deserves to have a good life, doesn’t she?”
Of course she did deserve a good life and you wanted your sister to have a better and happier life than you did. That’s probably the only reason why you opted for that job.
It wasn’t easy. Especially at the beginning. Actually you hated it, but you couldn’t deny that thanks to that job your life changed and became a bit easier. At least when it came to your finance. You had whatever you wanted and could buy anything your sister wished for.
You're pretty and your job taught you how to use it. And so you did. You rarely had to do more than going out with some rich people and keeping them company. Usually you met with someone new every week, until one man appeared. He didn't want you or your body. He was gay, but had to pretend he's straight and you're supposed to "play" his girlfriend.
Roman was a gentleman. He got to know you pretty well, as he became your only client for a long time.
"Y/N you don't need to do anything. All I need from you is to look pretty and not meet with anyone else"
"I mean yes, but that's what I'm supposed to do to earn money…"
"I'll pay for everything. Don't worry about the money"
So, you stayed at home and focused on your studies. You liked it at first, but soon you realized you miss all the attention you're getting. All the compliments, praises, presents. You didn't complain though. Roman took care of everything and you even became friends. Thanks to him you met the first person you ever loved.
You met her at a party. You're there with Roman. You had to be by his side almost all the time, which was not only tiring, but also kind of boring. That's why you got quite excited knowing that the blonde woman was watching you.
After 3 or so hours of pretending you're done. You needed a break, so you went to the toilet and lit a cigarette.
"Isn't he too old for you?" you heard a female voice
You turned back and saw the woman who's looking at you for the whole night.
"He could be your father…." she stated
"He's a good friend. I'm helping him and he's helping me" you shrugged 
"By sleeping with him? I mean I don't judge. I understand that some girls are looking for stability…"
"No. Some girls need money, because there's no one they can count on" you snarled
"I'm sorry" the woman sat down on a windowsill next to you "I didn't mean to offend you" she placed her hand on yours
You looked at her. Normally you'd be annoyed when someone touched you, but it's different with her. Something about her made you calm.
"Wouldn't you prefer to find someone younger, who would try to be there for you?"
"I'm not sure if that's possible"
"Why?"
"It's complicated"
"Explain then?"
"I… I just do what has to be done, because we need money"
Cordelia frowned trying to read your unreadable face expression. After a moment she offered you her hand.
"I'm…" she wanted to introduce herself, but you already knew her
"Cordelia Goode, the Supreme, yes I know"
She smiled still holding your hand.
"What's your name then?"
"I'm Y/N"
"Y/N what?"
"Just Y/N" you said standing up "It's nice to meet you Mrs Goode" you smiled and moved to the door 
"It's Cordelia"
"Of course" you said and left
You had been to a lot of different parties with Roman, but you had never met Cordelia before. You had no idea they’re friends actually and you definitely didn’t expect that it would affect you in any way. Yet it did.
After his brother’s death Roman was taking care of his niece. You knew that, because the two of you befriended, but you didn’t know the girl was a witch and was at the academy, where Cordelia was in charge.
You had no idea Cordelia was interested in you as well. You stopped noticing such things when you began working at the agency. That job totally changed your way of perceiving love.
Cordelia on the other hand felt more powerful than ever. She was the Supreme after all. She was capable of having whatever she wanted - and she wanted you. She couldn’t really explain it, but something about you was attracting her and there was nothing to do about it, but get you. Yet despite her power Cordelia still was a caring and empathetic woman. She didn’t want to use you and hurting you was the last thing on her mind. So, when Roman told her he’s going to leave and that you’d have to go back to working just like the rest of the young women in the agency Cordelia decided to take matters into her own hands. They talked it over and made a deal, but nobody told you about the changes.
You did feel like something  was not quite okay on your way to the hotel. Roman had never made you go to any hotel before. You had always met at his place or he just picked you up, so that you could go to some party together. But there you were - at the door of the hotel room. You knocked and waited for Roman to open. But instead of him the door was opened by Cordelia. You stood there a bit shocked and confused.
"I… Is Roman here?"
Cordelia smiled "No, he's not"
"Oh… umm okay. I guess I misunderstood something…"
"No, honey, you didn't. Come in"
'Honey'? That took you by surprise.
You came in and looked around. The room was huge and really fancy, but you knew immediately that it wasn't Roman who had chose that place.
"So, where is he?"
"That's a long story. Would you like some wine?"
You looked at her once again. She was dressed up and looked even better than at the party where you met. That's when you got it…
"Sit down Y/N" she said approaching you with two glasses of wine
You did as you're told and then you were handed one of the glasses. You looked at her anticipating what could come next. But Cordelia didn't say a single word. 
For some reason her confidence disappeared when she saw you. You're so young and beautiful.
You knew that look that she had in her eyes. You knew what she wanted and that made you feel weird. Obviously you wanted attention and adoration and from the moment you met her you wanted her to want you, but at the same time you didn't want her to be like everyone else.
So, you say there in silence - looking at each other from time to time.
"So…" you started "I assume that I'm your toy now and Roman won't come, will be?"
"Roman had to leave and we didn't want you to…" she paused "We just decided I could take his place" she said nervously
" 'we'?" you repeated "And you didn't think that maybe I should know about it?"
"Y/N… we just didn't want you to feel… bad or uncomfortable"
You rolled your eyes and stood up. You placed your glasses on a table and began to unzip your dress.
"What are you doing?"
"Undressing. Let's get this over with. That's why I'm here for, right?"
"Actually, I was hoping that you'll have a dinner with me"
You stopped in your tracks.
"Dinner… with you?"
"Yes" she said standing up and approaching you "I thought we could get to know each other better" Cordelia took a long coat and held it for you to put on. You said nothing. Your brain stopped at the words 'get to know each other better', because no one had wanted that before. That's quite unexpected, but you didn't protest.
Cordelia took you to a restaurant downstairs at the hotel. You sat at the table far from the other people and ordered.
"Tell me something about yourself" she asked
"About myself?"
"Yes" she smiled "Because for now I only know your name"
"Well, there's nothing much to say. My life isn't interesting at all"
"Well, you seem to be a very interesting person"
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything"
"Umm… I don't really like talking about myself. I mean no one really cares" you shrugged
"I do"
"No you don't"
"I do"
"Mrs Goode…"
"It's Cordelia" she corrected you
"You don't... You don't know me and you don't want to know me. You don't need to pretend... I don't expect you to care. It's fine"
“I really do. Honestly, Y/N, I want to get to know you better” Cordelia said carefully taking your hand “But only if you’re okay with telling me”
The sudden touch took you by surprise. No one had held your hand like that - so gently - for a very long time.
“I…” you hesitated “I don’t talk about myself, because people don’t like it. Every time I let someone close to me… they leave. And with every person that leaves I lose a part of myself. It’s not even that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that you’ll leave too Cordelia and there’s not much left of real me and I just can’t lose that part, because if I do… then who will I become?”
The Supreme smiled sadly and gently squeezed your hand.
“I’m sorry” you said not looking at her
“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. You haven’t done anything wrong, okay? You don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
You looked at her and saw her beautiful smile. You nodded and tried to smile back, but you knew very well you failed to do so.
“I know you probably think I won’t understand” she continued “But trust me, I’ve been through a lot myself, so if you ever change your mind, just know I’ll listen” 
You dared to raise your eyes, simply because you wanted to know that she meant it. And one look was enough for you to be sure she did. You always believed that all the truth was in people’s eyes, that eyes were the door to a person’s soul. But you’re quite sure you had never seen more beautiful eyes - in which you could see nothing, but honesty, understanding and care. That’s when you couldn’t help it and thought to yourself - “You’re broken like me…”
Also I’m gonna make a new tag list, so let me know  if you’d like to be tagged :)
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lovelystarlings · 3 years
Text
Chapter Two - Hermione Granger
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When Camille was a little girl, her mother and father used to tell her the tale of Lily Potter; the woman who saved her son with love, the same son who defeated the Dark Lord and survived the killing curse. Camille never realised that Harry Potter was the same age as her, nor did she realise how young he was when he defeated the Dark Lord. So as she sat opposite him, she gained an insane amount of respect for him.
"I thought Fred and George were just joking around but, god you're him?" Ron spoke, his eyes wide in anticipation as he leant forward at the same time as Camille slammed her book shut and got up, squashing next to the two boys; much to the embarrassment of Ron who was heavily blushing once again.
"Have you got the, um, you know?" He pointed to Harry's forehead.
Harry nodded and pulled his bangs back to show the lightning scar that sat right in the middle of his forehead.
"Is that where the Dark Lord, you know?" Camile uttered out quietly, not wanting to offend the boy in anyway but curious, as any person would be, as to how he survived the ultimate curse.
"Yes," Harry replied, "But I don't remember it very much. Some green light but nothing else."
"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at harry for a few minutes than snapped his head back to the window, realising what he was doing.
"So you two must know loads about magic already." Harry spoke, looking at Camille, who hadn't really spoken to much.
"Oh yes," Camille spoke, her hands falling into her lap to fiddle with her cardigan ends, she hated small talk. "In France I was lucky to be tutored by the headmistress of my older sister's school, Beauxbaton's. My mother insisted I wasn't behind with my education, so she had me start reading and learning a year early." She explained, both boys leaning forward, her French accent making it impossible not to listen.
"Though I heard you had to live with muggles, how was it?" She spoke, instantly regretting her question when a look of despair flashed across the boy's face before he covered it with a mask of tranquillity. "Yeah that must have been terrible. My mums got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." Ron began, Camille suspected that the Weasley's were one of the Sacred Twenty Eight, the twenty eight pure-blooded wizarding families, unfortunately the Delacour's were not a part of that twenty eight due to her grandmother being veela and her grandfather being a pureblood therefore leading to her mother being a half blood, breaking the Sacred Twenty Eight rules.
"Muggles are horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers or a wizard sister."
"Witch sister actually Harry, if you're gonna be a wizard you have to get the pronouns right."
"Five, actually" said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy, but Camille supposed so would she if she had five versions of Fleur, one was quite enough. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good mark's and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."
He gently took the rat that had previously been asleep off of his lap to display to the group. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got stupid old Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.
Harry began to speak about his experience with muggles, how he had hand me down everything, and how he lived in a cupboard under the stairs, and how his aunt and uncle practically treated him like slave, or rather a house elf, Camille thought. Ron seemed to cheer up at the news that he wasn't the only unfortunate one in the carriage, and when both boys looked at Camille, as it were her turn to share the pity party, she froze. Despite having the perfect life to others, she had suffered from anxiety since she was a child due to an event that she wasn't quite ready to share just yet.
"My parents have always favoured my older sister over me, and it hurts you know. It's always about her, and her feelings, and how she succeeds, and sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be here you know? Like if my parents don't truly love me than who will. I mean they do all these things for me so they look good and fair enough but sometimes I wish they treated me like Fleur, and not some random that lives with them. Even when Fleur's boyfriend rap-" She cut herself off, her eyes beginning to water as she remembered how her parents had treated her after that. Her sister was just a loving as always, but naïve to the hardships that some faced, as she had never faced them herself.
Looking up at the two she felt a hand on her knee, Harry's hand to be specific.
"You don't have to carry on, it's okay." He spoke, Ron nodding in agreement, trying to find something to distract the poor girl.
"Hey look! We're out of London!" The redheaded boy pointed out the window as the trio smiled at the endless evergreen that surrounded them. They were finally on their way to Hogwarts.
Timed past quickly, and at half past twelve a faint knock was heard on the door of the compartment, waking Camille suddenly from her sleep, the book that had been rested on her face banging loudly as it fell to the floor, Camille bending down to pick it up awkwardly.
A smiling elderly woman poked her head around the sliding door gently, Harry and Ron already starting to thorough through their pockets for change. Camille assumed this was the trolley lady. 
"Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Ron made the decision to stay sat down and pulled out a bag of sandwiches that Mrs Weasley had obviously made, the French girl melting inside at the sweetness of his mother. He stared at the girl strangely, as if he expected her to get up like Harry.
"I left my money in the trunk," she shrugged, before going back to her book. She didn't need to eat anyway, as her mother had told her countless times.
Hearing a gasp from Ron, she lifted her head to see Harry return, arms filled with everything you could think off; chocolate frogs, every flavoured beans, blowing gum, pumpkin pasties (Camille's personal favourite) and cauldron cakes. He had basically bought out the whole trolley, making Ron's sandwiches look inferior compared to his full course meal or rather dessert.
"Bloody hell Harry. Hungry, are you?" Camille spoke, but was silent soon after as her stomach chose the wrong to rumble loudly, most likely the result of skipping breakfast and lunch.
"Bloody hell Camille. Hungry, are you?" Harry spoke mockingly, after taking a huge bite of his pasty and causing crumbs to spray everywhere.
"Harry!" Camille scolded, whipping her napkin out of her pocket to wipe off the crumps that had landed in her lap. "You never talk with your mouthful, it's vulgar!" She muttered to herself, Harry and Ron began to laugh at her antics as she furiously wiped her dress down, and threw the napkin onto the seat beside her, stomach rumbling once again.
"Camille?"
"Yes." The girl said frustratingly, blowing a stray hair that had fallen on to her forehead away, looking at the boy who lived in annoyance. She despised bad etiquette. "Would you like a pastry, in return for forgiveness for my devastatingly terrible manners in front of a lovely lady like you?" An annoying tone of confidence dripped from his words as Harry held out his hand, in it a pumpkin pastry.
"Well," Camille spoke slowly, hand reaching over to Harry's, "They are my favourite."
"You too, Ron. I'm not just gonna leave you with a beef sandwich." The boy who lived spoke, pushing a pasty over to the ginger boy. It was nice feeling, Camille thought as the three sat there munching their way through the endless pile of sweets, Mrs Weasley's homemade sandwiches far forgotten.
The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. Excitement built in Camille, making her rather giddy as she thought of their arrival at Hogwarts.
There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy with shaking hand entered. He looked tearful, and Camille felt the need to give him a hug.
"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
When they shook their heads, he wailed, surprisingly loud considering they were on a train full of people, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"
"Well I'm sure he'll come back soon," spoke Camille in a matter of fact way, "We're on a train it's not like he can get far!"
"Yes, I suppose he will." The boy spoke miserably, before leaving their cabin in a hushed manner, heading straight to the opposite compartment, asking them the exact same question he had asked them.
"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron, patting the rat on his lap aggressively. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought useless old Scabbers, so I can't really talk."
"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.
"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway."
He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toad less boy had returned, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, her puffy brown hair and front crooked teeth noticeable. But Camille thought that she was quite pretty.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. Ah, thought Camille, so Neville's his name.
"We already told him we haven't seen it but we'll let him know if we do." Camille spoke softly, pitying the poor boy, Neville, she corrected herself, who still had tears pouring down his cheeks.
The girl however seemed distracted at the sight of a wand, a smile appearing on her face as she began to step further into the compartment, sitting herself down next to Camille. "Are you doing magic? Show us then." Ron seemed taken aback at forwardness of the brunette girl, who had made herself comfortable nest to Camille, even going as far to rest gently on her shoulder; Camille had found her new best friend.
"Uh-ok?" He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
Nothing happened, and Camille just had to let out a tiny giggle, not noticing the looks she gained from Harry and the girl beside her.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you." She spoke extremely fast, Camille having issues simply catching her name.
Hermione. Camille thought. That's pretty.
"Oh, w-well thank you I guess." Camille was just about as red as Ron's hair. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"Um you're welcome. I'm Camille." She locked eyes with the bushy haired girl, immediately looking away when she saw Hermione was as red as she was.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered, his mouth once again stuffed with food.
"Harry Potter," said Harry.
"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.
"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."
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rotomgender-moved · 3 years
Text
Runs in Our Family, Part two
Warnings: Ask To Tag, Injuries
Word Count: 2.3K
Part Two
The first thing N noticed was the sheer noise that we're coming from this group of children. Second, was the child on child violence going on-
Where are their parents? It made them confused and concerned for a moment, did they not have a chaperone? Who would trust children with pokemon on their own?
It was when he saw someone cowering in the corner that he realized, yes, they did have a chaperone. They've just dethroned the poor guy.
"Pl-ease calm yourselves!" The man squawked, "We can't have anyone getting hurt! Especially Wally, the poor boy is sickly enough!" As soon as the man's gaze met N's, he got up and quickly struttsd over with the grace of a swana. "Oh thank Arceus- can you please help out? Entertain them for a bit so I can set up lunch? The triplets and Mallow asked me to distract them, but they're treating me as a joke-"
"I'll help. My name is N."
"Thank you, oh thank you so much! My name is Wallace, I was a gym leader back in Hoenn." Wallace greeted with a relieved sigh. "Just give me a moment, I'm sure you can handle it for a few minutes. I just need to grab a change of clothes so these ones dont get dirtied, they're a bitch to handwash." He chuckled a little, patting N's shoulder and slipping by.
"... language." N muttered quietly. 
He felt eyes bearing into him as the room suddenly fell silent, Ruby spoke up.
"This is the guy with the white dragon Nate was talking about! All the cool pokemon that he can talk to!" The boy grinned, throwing his hands up.
"Uhm… Hello-?"
"He looks like a twig." A voice spoke up, one with that accent he couldn't place who paralyzed him. The little brats.
"Yeah… He- He looked like a mess-"
"Okay! Okay that's enough!" As Rosa and Nate approached, tugging Hugh behind them like a ragdoll, N snapped his head to them.
"Why did you tell them about the white dragon?" N hissed, giving the twins and their friend a glare. "You aren't meant to just-"
"Shut up, N, anyways!" Rosa continued. "He's sensitive, so don't touch him or be too loud. Or pull his hair, I got bit for that once."
"He bit you?" A gasp came from a blond girl playing with her tall, blue frog pokemon. 
"No, Ex, his Unphezant did. Wh- Why would he bite me?"
"Isn't he that guy that Bede nearly killed in the woods?" Ex said, and a gasp came from one of those kids, as though he had been personally offended. From how he looked, N assumed Bede was one of the kids on the boat in a fight.
"It was not me! It was Gloria and you all know it!" He spat. 
"It wasn't me, it was Victor!" Gloria hissed back. 
"It was me- stop fighting you aggressive dunces." Victor smacked the back of Gloria's head. "Sorry about that again, Mint-Boy."
N starred in awe at how fast all these kids started antagonizing each other. It was almost impressive how tense the energy in the room is. He looked down to Hugh.
"Is this how it always is?" 
"Yeeeaaaah, just about."
"Oh my…" N took in a sharp intake of breath as Wallace returned, immediately sighing in defeat. Wallce had this elegant energy tacked on him that was absolutely torn due to the rowdiness of all the kids. 
"Did they give you too much trouble?"
"No, they were distracted tearing each other apart."
"I see, well. How about you show off your pokemon, or battle one of them? I'm sure they'd appreciate the form of stimulation that isn't… Whatever Silver, Gold and Crystal do." He motioned his hand to a group of three. That foulmouthed redhead getting put in a headlock by a brunette boy. Who seemed to be playfully insulting him while a young girl kept score on a piece of paper.
"Yeah… I'll do that." N nodded, stepping towards the group while Wallace went to break up the rough housing between the three mineral-named children. He immediately was met by a small, frail green haired boy, who had a nervous smile and a cheerful wave.
"Hello, sir! I was told you could speak with pokemon. I wanted to ask if you could hear what my pokemon can say?"
"Oh, uh." N wasn't sure what to do, ever since he had left Team Plasma he had never been around so many people. He thought back on Zoroark's words. That talking to people would do him some good. "Yes, I can do that for you and… Whoever else wants me to." He promised, sitting down.
"I'm Wally, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Call me N."
He met many faces so quickly! Barry, the energetic boy with a Staraptor who seemed to have nearly the exact same spunk. Wally and his elegantly worded Gallade, who worked tirelessly to defend the boy. The endlessly smiling Hop and his gruff, aloof Dubwool, as well as learning that the four accented children are from a place called Galar. Ex and Wy, two twins with teams that seemed to completely mirror one another. The hot headed Silver and his Magnasium, who N believes that Zororak would get along wonderfully with. 
Seeing all these trainers and pokemon with such diverse personalities couldn't help but make him smile. Especially the grins that they got being able to know exactly what they're pokemon thought of them. Silver's reaction made him the most joyful, seeing the boy try to hide that toothy little grin and begin to ride on his grass types back, whispering to her and thanking her. It made N's heart swell, so much so that he had to return the favor and do as he promised Ruby.
He released nearly all of his team except one; Zoroark, Vanilluxe, Archen, Unphezant and Klinklang. Leaving the white dragon out of this. Some seemed unimpressed, having seen all of these pokemon before. But quick as a bolt of multicolored lightning, some of them rushed over to examine them.
"What is it?" chimed Crystal, running her fingers through Archens feathers.
"Oh you're really tough-looking!" Barry grinned, Klinklang allowing the blond to feel its many gears. 
"This is that Zoroak you were talking about, right?" Sapphire questioned, examining the illusionist's paws. 
Question after question was thrown his way, as N chuckled and tried to keep up. 
"This is Klinklang, he's an electric-steel type pokemon. This is Archen, a flying-rock type. Be careful, it's shy! Zoroark is a dark type, Vanilluxe is an Ice type, and Unphezant. A flying-normal type." N explained, smiling a little as Zoroark nodded in approval. He began to ramble on about the pokemon, answering any questions and quieting down to listen to any of the kids' connections, stories and such. It seemed to calm down… Almost all of them. Except for one, who he had found left the room at some point… Wallace was gone as well. Maybe he had gone off with one of them for one reason or another? It caused confusion and worry to boil deep down inside his belly as he quickly realized which of the kids was missing.
Where had Sapphire slipped off all the sudden?
/// Sapphire ///
"Wallace, come on!" Sapphire called over her shoulder, dashing through the forest. In front of her ran her Blaziken, slapping away vines and thick brush so that the others behind it wouldn't trip and fall. Above them, the call of a Skarmory alerted them that Steven Stone was keeping up well and various other cries of pokemon meant that the entire group was keeping up.
Sapphire was in the lead as Wallace, Steven, Red, Iris and Cheren kept up. There was a disturbance, they knew that was true. It was something that they could just tell deep inside them, something Sapphire knew all too well. A tight ball in her guts that her pokemon seemed to feel as well.
"Over here!" Cheren called out over his shoulder, the cry of his serperior confirming his claim. "I saw the flash of a pokemon being returned! Tuxedo, short hair from the silhouette I saw!"
"Got it, Skarmory that way!" Steven called from above, leading the group away. 
"I'll check over there in case they run!" Sapphire yelled to the group, hearing a grunt of approval from Blue as she ran off with Sceptile. Her running steps crunched the leaves as the leaves thickened above. Blotting out the sky and leaving the light being emitted from glowing flowers, vines and mushrooms. 
The deeper she ran, the more the air thickened with the smell of heavy, damp leaf mold and sickly sweet tree sap. The deeper she ran… The more she realized how lost she got herself in the heat of the moment. 
Sapphire was lost in an unrecognizable part of the forest, lit merely by glowing plants and fungus and silence broken by the movement of distant pokemon and whistling wind. As she walked, she felt the ground disappear from her feet. Before she knew it, she was tumbling down into a small ditch. Sapphire yelped as she fell, feeling a pain in her arm as she hit the ground.
"Ow- ow." She groaned, slowly getting up as Sceptile slid down to follow its owner. When she got up, her Sceptile put a claw on her shoulder, grunting and looking around in preparation to attack at any moment. That moment came soon then she thought, two pairs of eyes suddenly lighting up the darkness, the movement of something stalking and something else dragging itself. 
She backed into the Sceptile out of fear, looking up at the narrow-eyed pokemons threatening glare. As the pokemon revealed themselves, Sceptile growled. A large, fiery maned pokemon with a dark brown pelt beside a tall, haunting pokemon made of wood and leaves. A lion and a tree, slowly stalking towards her. As she shut her eyes and slowly pointed, ready to command an attack, a voice spoke from behind the two pokemon. 
"Are you lost, little one?" A smooth and low voice with a kalosant accent, worry panging their voice. As she cracked open her eyes, she was met by a tall and regal man with long, red hair. His face was aged, but only ever so slightly. Maybe in his thirties or forties. "Are you okay?"
"I'm… I ran off trying to find someone that did some bad stuff." Sapphire explained. "Got seperated from my friends."
"Oh my," The man began, approaching a bit and opening a pocket. "You're hurt, let me help you. Show me your arm." The brunette looked, noticing her arm had a bleeding cut. She hadn't even noticed the cut itself when she initially fell, too struck with shock and fear to notice anything but momentary pain. She held out her arm, which the man carefully took in dark-gloved hands. As though he would shatter her in a moment. 
"Thank you." She quietly nodded as he began to clean the wound with some disinfectant pads he had in his pocket. Soon following it uo with two or three bandaids. 
"No need, petit ami. Is your Sceptile alright? I'm sorry if Treevanant and Pyroar caused you any trouble."
"No! No- they just scared us. Sceptile's okay."
"That's good to hear, a relief." He nodded. "My name is Lysander, I was invited here from Kalos. I missed the main boat so I came on a different one." Lysander explained, taking his hands away. 
"Sapphire, Grass Type gym leader in Hoenn." She introduced herself, sticking her injury-free hand out. Which he took and gave a gentle shake."
"Pleasure to male your acquaintance." Lysander nodded. "Allow me to take you to the home of some friends and I, you can rest up for the night and be on your way. It's quite late."
"Is it?" She asked.
"Yes, nearing the faery's hour." He explained, patting Pyroar's back. "Come and sit on him, I'll guide you back. I promise he doesn't bite." Lysander offered, slowly backing away.
Sapphire thought for a moment, this wasn't the first time in her journeys she's accepted such offers, as well as Sceptile being right beside her, she decided her best interest would be to accept. 
"Alright! Thank you again."
"No need." He smiled warmly, directing his pokemon to bend at the knees and allow her to climb on. As they began on the path, he clicked the button of a PokeBall to the Treevanant, returning it. "I'd hate to see someone with an injury rot away into something hideous."
Sapphire nodded, stroking Pyroar's mane with a hum. The pokemon was quite warm and each swish of its tail caused embers to float in the air for a moment. Leaving small wisps of light only to die out, the silence broke as Lysander joined in the humming with a tune. His warm smile has turned softer, more relaxed. 
"What are you humming?" Sapphire tilted her head.
"Oh? An old song from Kalos." He shrugged, only making her curiosity rise.
"Can you sing it? I wanna hear it." She grinned as he knitted his brows in thought. 
"If you wish," He chuckled a little as he cleared his throat. "Forgive if I'm rusty."
"Comme les ténèbres obscurcissent la lumière,
L'or du soleil étouffé par la nuit d'argent
Oh, petit, ne te laisse pas faire confiance
Les sauvages qui font des bonbons avec de la rouille
Ils arpentent les chemins, les forêts de fae,
Et avec la lune ils font ce qu'ils peuvent
La nuit hantée par les fantômes et les Gengar
Ils portent des malédictions de près et de loin
Toutes les personnes de Kanto à Galar
Sachez que les pierres pointues et les roses
Cachez-vous parmi les étoiles."
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lladyariall · 5 years
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So, I just realized a TON in this one flashback.
[Sit down, y'all. This is going to be a bumpy ride ;D before I begin please know this is just my silly opinion in just how I see certain characters. Please enjoy the blog!]
He's mentioned his mom twice, he's shared about his step brother, and Mao Mao brought up his dad in only one episode. Yet, he has mentioned that his mom "says things she would not say" to which I say that he is hinting that he has an abusive past like Mao Mao might have had, but probably worse. Personally, I think poor Badgerclops had a very psychologically abusive mom. He speaks highly about his dad that one time while his mom was.. was really low-key tension going on in the air, if you guys have noticed that. He seems really small in the voice, and he even goes out to try to bring her up in public television. Was he trying to reach out a message to her during "Head Chef" when he was being challenged by Mao Mao?
I think I know why Badgerclops can't take personal critism. He's practically bullied all the time; is the rock to Mao Mao's unstable emotions/heroic thirst for adventure; he's constantly being told he's lazy; fat; and other things.. but to be honest, he IS suffering from all these things that he does try to hint and bring up every once a in a great while that we never get to really hear him out for.
So.. if you all have moms (not trying to offend anybody who may or may not) there is nothing more hurtful than hearing your own mom tell you things about yourself you don't want to hear. I mean, like actual mean things that pertain to feeling absolutely sick to your heart and knowing she shouldn't be saying such mean things to you. I think with the fact that BC has had an eyepatch ever since he was really young changes a lot of things when he was growing up. It seems like no one stood up for him enough either, while Gerald seemed to always win the upper hand to trick an innocent little toddler out of his money. He probably felt like his brother was taking advantage of the fact that he had one eye and no mechanic arm then, so.. poor little guy was probably beat up a lot too.
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But here's where it gets darker.
Maybe his mom is responsible for his missing eye, you know? Maybe she's an ex villian, or Badgerclops' family is a gang of badger villains that tried to raise BC their way and it may have resulted in losing his eyeball to gain an eyepatch. He was seriously Adorabat's age when he lost his eye (wait.. are all parents just TERRIBLE in this universe?!) and that type of young mind can be damaged super easily, especially if one flaw about your physical appearance makes everyone judge and become cruel to you; or for instance, someone like our awesome badger here.
Now, let's say it wasn't his mom and Badgerclops just was always ridiculed everywhere he went. Sure he had his reasons to start traveling (probably to get away from his family) alone. He met up with a cyborg gang later which he clearly was probably in tears when he joined, but he couldn't be himself. Not ever in his life could he show his true self til he met Mao Mao, and that's explains why he's so protective of him.
Yet, even Mao Mao and Badgerclops' bond can't tame the larger mammal's inner triggers and insecurities about his whole demeanor when someone speaks out their opinion. If one person said that that awesome hairdo was 'terrible looking' to Badgerclops then I'm pretty damn sure he freaked out, since he didn't wear an eyepatch, AT ALL, and assumed the villagers saw behind his haircut.
Because he clutched his 'missing' eye in sadness.. Mao Mao's flashback, you guys, has a big picture on Badgerclops' mental health just in this few seconds of this screen time.
Mao Mao truly noticed his friend's emotions and decided to just ignore them more than anything 'cause then and now, it seemed like Mao Mao was afraid BC would blow up, and destroy (*cough* murder) every place else in their travels to the point of having to kill him. We're all aware that Mao Mao would probably never have the heart to destroy his closest friend and family he's ever had so he just kept up with his cold distance up til they started to get closer and closer as friends. Mao Mao eventually saw Badgerclops as a big gentle guy but he knows the flaws that he dare not touches.
Mao Mao even showed us how he SAW Badgerclops when he exploded. That's guy eyes changed! Both of them turned blue! That's not normal for Badgerclops! His eyes are blue for a reason in this flashback that either Mao Mao knows and he isn't telling Adorabat, or he's doesn't think about it. The guy murdered a whole village over a hairdo.. wow, um, I'm pretty darn sure Mao is afraid, y'all.
So that can only mean one thing: Badgerclops' biggest flaw is trying to impress people over his personality before they decide to judge him by his looks. That's probably why when the Sweetie Pies first hugged him, he was ecstatic as heck to get more love and physical attention since he doesn't get that much from Mao Mao.
I'm sorry to say that Mao Mao doesn't even know the half of how much pain that has caused his friend to behave in a violent way, once hearing personal critism. Usually, people who are bullied a lot growing up have side effects of deep insecurities that they normally dig up and hide away for a big amount of time; BUT, once they are able to, they will unleash a mountain full of emotions that are unpredictable. I'm not saying everyone gets mad when they hear critism due to bullying. I just think that's BCs' case here.
His brother bullied him, his mom more than likely taunted and created a self conscious bubble for BC, and Mao Mao's neglect isn't helpful either. The fact that we see a new side of Badgerclops being super violent and has a large closet full of sad secrets is pretty sad and mind blowing to watch in this episode. But my favorite part is how much harder Mao Mao tries to show a different side to his relationship with Badgerclops and give him a chance to do as less damage as possible on his man's feelings. I think this one is an episode where we get to see an improvement from episode one and it truly shows.
But I still think Mao Mao was mainly afraid in this episode, which now we can't blame him for. In 'Ultraclops,' Mao Mao ignores Badgerclops' requests and venting to a point throughout their adventures we see. Badgerclops is a helpless little kid inside who just wants to be accepted and not picked at by the ones he encounters. That saying, especially his friends. Mao Mao may be improving but he has a lot more to work on with Badgerclops emotionally and mentally if they are ever going to truly figure out how to heal the wounds; instead of making more of them. I hope they work this out together.
Now I have only one theory about the blue eye colors and that's Badgerclops turning from bad to good. Maybe Mao Mao had such a big change in the ex-villains life that it improved his psychological help. Some people's eyes turn a little brighter once they face less stress in their lives so maybe BCs change in his eye was the one true way to prove it. But then when he gets mad and wants to murder anyone, they turn back blue to prove victory towards the bloody massacre.
That killer is what Mao Mao sees and does not want to kill. So he does ignore Badgerclops' feelings to a point where he still accepts his lover's emotions and for who he is anyway.. sometimes. But now we know how dangerous Badgerclops can be. What do you guys think? Do you think I'm right or wrong? Let me know your opinion too and hopefully I made sense today :)
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uncloseted · 4 years
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How does someone find their passion in life ? i'm going to uni next year and i have no idea what i want to study, or what i'm passionate about, as horrible as it is, i've never found anything i've liked more than just laying around all day, i could live forever doing nothing but i also don't want to have a work i job i completely hate but i know i have to work or study something eventually
So first things first, I think it’s important to say that your field of study/career doesn’t necessarily have to be your passion (and for that matter, what you study at uni doesn’t necessarily dictate your future career- a lot of people have degrees they never use).  I know that many of us have been sold this idea that a career can only be satisfying if it’s our “passion”. I think that’s a convenient narrative for aggressively capitalistic countries (the US being the biggest offender) because it sets a standard that we should be willing to do anything for our passion-career (unpaid internships, working for less than our labor is worth, doing unpaid work, putting up with toxic work environments, unreasonably long commutes...), since we’re not doing it for the money, we’re doing it because we genuinely love our jobs.  Maybe your passion is making dolls from corn husks or golfing or people watching or something else that’s not easy to monetize, and that’s totally okay.  It’s okay to have a job that you don’t love and aren’t super dedicated to because it allows you to do the things you do really love.  Your work shouldn’t have to be your life- work should allow you to live your life. 
Anyway, I do have some thoughts about how to find a career that works for you, whatever that might mean.  I’ve written about this before (of course, the internet cannot find it), but I would look into the Japanese concept of ikigai- your “reason for being”.
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When searching for your ikigai, I would suggest making a list (no matter how short), of the things you love, the things you’re good at, the things the world needs, and the things you can be paid for.  Look for overlaps in each category, and try your best to think creatively about how you can combine the different categories.  For example, maybe you love movies, you think the world needs to know about global warming, and you’re good at organization.  Your ikigai in that case might be to be a coordinator on documentaries that focus on global warming.  It’s a job that pays pretty well, and also incorporates the other sections on your list, so it’s likely to feel fulfilling.
Moving away from ikigai, there’s this story that I think about a lot.  A great uncle told it to me, and I always assumed it was a story from his life until one day I discovered it was actually a chain email called The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman and the Banker.  I still think about it a lot, though, and it’s shaped the way I view work, so maybe it will be useful to you as well.  It goes like this:
An American investment banker was taking a much-needed vacation in a small coastal Mexican village (in my uncle’s story, the fisherman is from Kalymnos and he dives for sponges) when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. The boat had several large, fresh fish in it.
The investment banker was impressed by the quality of the fish and asked the Mexican how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, “Only a little while.” The banker then asked why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish?
The Mexican fisherman replied he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.
The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”
The Mexican fisherman replied, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos: I have a full and busy life, señor.”
The investment banker scoffed, “I am an Ivy League MBA (in my family the school is always Harvard), and I could help you. You could spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat, and with the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats until eventually, you would have a whole fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to the middleman you could sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You could control the product, processing and distribution.”
Then he added, “Of course, you would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City where you would run your growing enterprise.”
The Mexican fisherman asked, “But señor, how long will this all take?”
To which the American replied, “15–20 years.”
“But what then?” asked the Mexican.
The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You could make millions.”
“Millions, señor? Then what?”
To which the investment banker replied, “Then you would retire. You could move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”
The question that this story prompts for me is, if you had unlimited time and resources, what kind of life would you lead?  Where would you live?  What would you spend your time doing?  Who would you be with?  Would you have pets?  Kids?  What would your daily routine look like?  Maybe the answer for you isn’t a university degree or an office job.  Maybe it’s not millions.  Maybe it’s diving for sponges on a Greek island or being a fisherman in Mexico.  I think it can be helpful to put together an image of that perfect life and then try to reverse engineer the best way of getting there instead of putting the onus on the job you have to shape what kind of life you want to lead.  Maybe you really want to have kids, so you need a job that will have a good parental leave policy or that has flexible hours or that will pay enough to support the family you want to have.  To me, those considerations are just as important as whether or not you feel interested in the job you do every day.
I would also think about the opposite- what kind of life could you absolutely not stand living?  What kind of workplace would drive you crazy?  Knowing what your “hard nos” can help you to narrow down the potential field of options. For example, my hard nos include anything to do with venipuncture, jobs that require me to be organized on behalf of other people, anything that’s heavy on performing/public speaking, jobs where people have high expectations of me (incidentally, this is the reason I’m not a therapist), and any environment that wants me to work more than 40 hours a week.  For some people, all of those are totally doable, but for me they’re not, and that’s okay.  There’s no reason to spend your life doing things that make you miserable. 
The last thing I’m going to suggest is the CareerExplorer quiz.  I like this quiz in particular for a few reasons.  First, it’s a really comprehensive test, and so I think it can help you find the language to describe what you’re going through, what your hard yesses and hard nos are, and what you need in a work setting. Even if the answers the test gives aren’t perfect, I think it provides a framework to think about career options because of the questions it asks.  The other reason I really like this test is because so far it’s been 100% correct for everyone I know, even those with more obscure careers, so it seems to be more exact than other career aptitude tests out there.  And the user interface is really nice as well, which is a bonus.
Hopefully some of that is helpful in your decision making process.  And if you ever want someone to bounce ideas off of or help coming up with careers that might be a good fit for you, I’m happy to help.
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