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caitlynskitten · 6 months

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Nuuuu lol

I'm just doing my civic duty of contributing to the community's VampRavenWolf brainrot!

Like right now! Baby Wednesday is deep into another of her investigations. She's so close to figuring it all out and finding her target. Her latest clue leads her to an old, abandoned building on the very outskirts of Jericho and of course, the best time to investigate it is late at night, deep in the cover of darkness to ensure she's not caught by the police or any security. And to make it even easier, both Yoko and Enid are late home tonight. Normally, Wednesday would be upset at the idea of having to go to bed alone but this is the perfect opportunity for her.

So now, Wednesday is tiptoeing carefully through loose electrical wires and piles of debris and broken glass. She's so preoccupied by finding the old, abandoned paperwork she needs that she doesn't notice the wolf and vampire standing behind her until the bloodsucker clears her throat, startling Wednesday and making her drop the folders full of paper. She spins around to see the very disappointed looks her girlfriends are giving her. Yoko speaks first, "And just what, little raven, do you think you're doing out this late at night?"

Enid continues after her, "And in this old, decrepit building that's practically in the middle of nowhere?"

Yoko stops Wednesday before she can respond, "You know what? No, let's save this for tomorrow. For now, we all need to get back home and go to bed. Now." Yoko adds before the seer can protest.

The next morning, after breakfast is eaten and they're all properly awake, Yoko and Enid sit Wednesday down at the table across from them, preparing for the conversation ahead of them. Enid starts first, "Look, Wednesday, I want to make it clear we're not upset with you. We're just worried. You have no idea how scared we were when we realized you weren't there when we got home. We thought someone tried to hurt you." Enid's voice breaks and she's forced to let Yoko take over.

"And beyond that, little raven, you could've gotten seriously hurt inside that building. We would never be able to forgive ourselves if something happened to you while we weren't there. We need you to be more careful," Yoko pauses for a moment to look over at Enid, and with a nod between them, Yoko proceeds, "Which is why, Mommy and I have been talking and we think there needs to be a few new rules. Can we discuss them now, please?"

Once Wednesday nods, Enid has collected herself again and starts, "Okay, so our first new rule would be that whenever you decide to go out investigating again, we will be coming with you to make sure you stay safe, understand?" Wednesday affirms the new rule and Enid continues, "And the next rule, and this one is very important, Wednesday, we think that you need to have a bedtime."

Immediately, Wednesday has protests, "Bedtime!? I do not need a bedtime, this is utterly ridiculous and there is no way I'm going along with this!"

"Sorry, little raven, but we're actually not giving you a choice here about this. Mommy and I have discussed this very thoroughly and we genuinely believe that this is what's best for you. That's all we ever want, Wends. This is for your own good."

Eventually, Wednesday submits. However, for the rest of the day, she makes sure her displeasure with her newest rule is known by pouting and not talking to her Mommy and Daddy. But, Wednesday isn't able to keep it up for long, as by the time her newly designated bedtime rolls around, Wednesday is cuddling up close to both of her girlfriends. And in the dark of their bedroom, Wednesday finally admits her actual feelings, "I know you're both just doing this because you care. I'm sorry for making you worry, Mommy and Daddy. I love you both."

"Thank you, baby girl, both for apologizing and for understanding that we just care about you so much," Enid says while pulling both the raven and vampire in closer and whispers gently, "We love you too, baby bird. So, so much."

End <3

ALSO MORE RAVEN LORE!!!!!!!! RAVEN LORE HYYPPPEEEEE!!!!!!!

I'm actually gonna cry again, BABY WEDNESDAY IS SO CUTE WITH HER LITTLE RAVEN PLUSH

Hold on, I actually have to scream into a pillow I'm losing my mind so hard right now mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I'm just imagining Wednesday ranting to their little friend group about her plush. They'd all be a little confused at first, sorta taken by surprise, but eventually (with a small bit of motivation from a deadly-looking vampire and werewolf) they'd all be super accepting and ask Wednesday a bunch of questions to give her the excuse to continue talking about it cause it just makes her SO happy!!

I'm curious though, what do y'all think The Addams Family's reaction would be to the raven plush?

OKAY BUT I LOVE HOW ENID AND YOKO ARE ACTUALLY BEING MORE LIME MOMMY AND DADDY TO THEIR LITTLE RAVEN 🥺🥺🥺🥺 AND THAT YOKO ACTUALLY REFERS TO HERSELF AND ENID AS MOMMY AND DADDY ITS JUST 😭😭😭😭😭ITS SO CUTE UGHHHHHHH

Omg while Wednesday is listening to her girlfriend’s concerns, she’s just sitting in the chair sulking, hugging her raven plushie tight with a pouty face. She’s probably on the verge of tears. She thought she could do anything she wants just by being cute but having her girlfriends set actual rules nwjjfwkdkrkror god that’s actually adorable ugh. I can see how whiney and pouty she’d get for the rest of the day.

Enid would probably do Wednesdays braids and try to talk to her. But Wednesday is too and and just crosses her arms and not say anything.

“Baby, I know you don’t like this but your daddy and I really care about you. We don’t want you to get hurt. And you wouldn’t want to lose your little Raven now would you?”

After finishing Wednesday’s hair, Enid kisses her but Wednesday still throws a fit. Enid understands and goes back to work.

Yoko would go into Wednesday’s room and see her cuddle with the raven plushie with her back to the raven.

Wednesday squeezes the plushie in her chest and softly says “I hate you two” she obviously doesn’t mean it but she’s just too upset. Unfortunately with Yoko being a vampire, she does hear it.

“Little raven, do you hate me now? You don’t love me anymore?”

Wednesday is taken a back and gets up immediately to hug her girlfriend and cry in her chest. She’s so embarrassed and mad at herself for hurting her vampire partner.

“No, no, no, NO! I’m sorry, daddy, I’m really sorry I’m really sorry I didn’t mean it. I love you. I love you both. Forever!”

Yoko kisses Wednesday and wipes the tears off her face. “I know you do, little raven. And I love you two. We both love you very much.”

As far as the Addams family reaction to the Raven plushie I think they’d all support it and find it adorable Wednesday has a cute thing to hold on to. Gomez and Pugsley would even go as far as to talk to the plushie with Wednesday. Although I do like to think Morticia might be hurt that Wednesday is so attached to the Raven plushie. She’s given her so many plushies and stuffed animals when she was younger that it sort of hurts her that Wednesday doesn’t like any of them. Though she’s still have supportive and loves her Raven plushie too.

#asks #rachelsfav queer #vampravenwolf #wednesday #wednesday addams #wenclair #enid sinclair #the addams family #yoko tanaka #yoko and wednesday #wednesday and yoko #gomez and morticia #morticia addams

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kujo1597 · 2 months

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I’ve been watching my friend liveblog her rewatch of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (great show) and it looked really fun to do. And she’s also doing this to get into writing SPOP fanfics and as some of you may remember, I have a Jem fanfic called Unbreakable that I really do need to finish. So I figured I would blog my rewatch of Jem. I wanted to watch the show again to get my creative juices flowing and figured why not.

Because I know the show backwards and forwards due to watching it five or six times my posts will probably largely focus on the characters and traits they have that I incorporate into the writing. I’ll talk about Jerrica’s relationship with Rio and why it’s so dysfunctional and concerning.

I’m also going to be a fucking weirdo and keep track of the crying because a character trait of Kimber’s I find really interesting is how private she is with her tears compared to the others. But this will be kept in a folder of its own and I won’t dwell on it.

I won't be putting all of these into the fandom tag because I worry that I'll be deemed "too active" by Tumblr and my posts will stop showing up in the tag. So I guess if you're interested in keeping up with these keep track of the "Kujo Watches Jem" tag.

Man I love this show’s first intro song and the animation. It’s largely rotoscoped and looks really nice.

The show starts off with a look at Jem and The Holograms at a premiere and it’s a cool way of introducing the characters. They make it very clear who’s who.

Aja

Shana

I love how they just fukkin’ throw Kimber out of the car. This is a good time to mention that the animation in the first five episodes is pretty janky. They’re stitched together seven minutes shorts that were part of the Super Sunday block on whichever channel this aired on. So we’re kind of watching a proof of concept right now.

And of course they show Jem as this cool and mysterious woman as she shrugs off her sheer veil in front of a cheering crowd. Reporters ask Jem a bunch of questions.

Then we hear our protagonist, Jerrica, start narrating.

She tells us that her story begins after her father's unexpected death. And they establish later in the show that this funeral is on or around Jerrica's birthday. Which is really awful. I feel bad for her.

I remember Eric being kind of creepy at the funeral but always forget just how creepy he is. Especially because I’m fairly confident that at this point in production Jerrica is meant to be an older teen. Like, 17 or 18. I don’t blame Rio for dragging her off.

But oh man, let’s just add this to the “Jerrica apologizes for Rio count.” It’s a recurring thing.

Now we cut to a shot of Starlight House and the characters working to fix it up. This also has cool details like a design table, Shana is into fashion design as we’ll learn later.

Uh, I need to point out this bird cage. You’ll see why later. But I need to point it out.

I wonder how long Ashley’s been living here for. Because she comments on the house being a dump as if she’s just moved in. Also she broke that chair. She tried to flop onto it but it broke.

Now we meet Mrs. Bailey who helps take care of the kids. Nice lady. She informs Jerrica that her dad, Emmett, would get money to fund the Starlight House’s upkeep from his music company. So Jerrica goes over to the office. She sees a new receptionist, walks past her and enters her dad's old office.

Eric continues to call Jerrica “darling” and talks about how he’s hired a new band called The Misfits. And they ride in on these extremely toyetic motorcycles. I don’t think they ever did get released though. But man, this screams “toy commercial show.” Jem is way more than just that though.

We get the first song of the series and it’s great. Fun imagery. And it’s funny seeing them play their instruments because Stormer is playing this weird boomerang guitar. I seriously do wonder when they finalized what instruments the characters play. Aja was messing around with drumsticks earlier in the episode and spoiler alert, she’s not a drummer, like, at all.

Jerrica calls The Misfits trash and insults Pizzazz. Then they talk about Eric holding a rigged battle of the bands competition. Which obviously Jerrica doesn’t approve of.

We then cut to Jerrica in her bedroom on a stormy night. Jerrica’s mad about Eric ruining the good image of her dad’s company. Then Kimber points out the jewellery box addressed to Jerrica. It contains earrings, very familiar earrings. Everybody wonders who they came from. Aja figures it was Rio.

Then thunder and lighting, and a mysterious woman who looks like she walked out of an exercise tape addresses Jerrica in a slightly ghostly voice.

And then Jerrica very rudely puts her hands in this woman’s belly. Jerrica! Personal space!

Understandably the mysterious woman leaves. In a flash of light.

Everybody follows the directions left in the earring box and meet up with the woman in Starlight Drive-In. She walks through a wall and they follow her in their van, the Starlight Express.

A quick aside, I was talking to my friend who’s only seen two or three episodes of Jem because of me kind of going, “Well, these episodes are very silly. I think it’d be fun to watch them with you.” Anyway, I was talking about the show and because of the fact that everything has the word Starlight in the name he asked if Starlight was Jerrica’s last name. And yeah, I get why he would think that.

Anyway, the woman introduces herself as Synergy and explains that she’s a highly advanced entertainment system made by Emmett Benton. We get shots where the characters split off and look at their interests, Shana at clothes, Kimber at the musical instruments, and Aja at the car, the Rockin' Roadster.

Seeing Synergy’s ability to make realistic holograms along with all the instruments gave Jerrica an idea.

Oh neat, we’re seeing a performance by a band that sounds… not great. I guess the rigging is going well.

And then we hear some more music, this time a song building up.

And that song the first one performed by Jem in the series. It’s a very solid one! A good note to start the band on.

Obviously everybody loved this band, they sound great! Eric gets all worked up and demands to know what they’re doing here because the contest is invite only. Jem points to Jerrica and announces that she was sent there by Jerrica.

And then Jem totally inconspicuously runs off of the stage and behind a tree. Then turns into Jerrica. She meets up with Eric on the stage and they’re caught arguing on the mics. I actually forgot that Eric was the one who put control of Starlight Music up as a stake in a new competition. One just between The Misfits and Jem and The Holograms.

A film producer named Howard Sands happened to be in the crowd and he promises a movie, and a mansion to the winner of the new battle of the bands competition. Six months from now.

Jerrica accepts the challenge having full confidence in herself and her sisters.

The Misfits are rowdy trouble makers so they steal Jem’s equipment and drives off with it in their van. The rival band gives chase because that’s their stuff and they need it. Musical equipment is not cheap. We get this thrilling chase where Roxy and Stormer throws things at the car Aja’s driving to try to get them to crash I guess. And uh

That’s a cliff. They’re heading right off a cliff. And Aja hit the gas judging by the sound effect.

Good work.

You can kind of tell this was the end of the short, especially when they come back from commercial and replay the chase scene.

Jerrica’s not dumb. She sends a hologram of Jem out to get help. The hologram meets up with Rio and tells him where the car is. Rio saves them.

The paper reports on this and gives Jem and The Holograms a bunch of publicity.

The Misfits don’t see much of a problem with this because they can still win the competition and of course

winning is everything.

I just, look at this GIF.

Okay I needed you to see that. The music video is a wonderful flavour of silly.

Now back to Starlight House. We see the girls putting money into the Honor Jar. It's a communal fund that the girls contribute to in order to afford things for Starlight House. They’re trying to buy a new fridge. Before adding the funds to the jar they have to announce how they made the money.

Ashley questions the jar which really adds to the feeling that she’s new here.

Also, it’s weird hearing Deirdre being voiced by Samantha Newark. She’s voiced by Patricia Alice Albrecht in her later appearances. The same VA as Pizzazz, Samantha Newark is Jerrica’s by the way.

Meanwhile Eric phones a thug and tells him to make Jerrica uncomfortable.

I need to know where this place is located. It’s in the middle of a forest or something. And I swear that’s a river behind it. Is that safe when you have twelve kids? The youngest is eight so maybe we don't have too much to worry about.

Anyway, Ashley steals money from the Honor Jar and Jerrica catches her. And then says something that never sat super right with me.

“There’s no room in Starlight House for girls who steal and lie.”

Like, hm, I dunno, I can’t articulate exactly why it bothers me. I feel like it would kind of breed dishonesty. Like how controlling parents often end up with kids who are really good at sneaking around them.

But Jerrica is a teen herself and taking care of twelve kids so I can’t be too hard on her. Especially because her dad did recently die so there is going to be some adjusting to the new role as foster mother.

Jerrica tells Ashley that the other girls are going to decide on her punishment because they’re the ones running the Honor Jar. The punishment is to raise $30 which is ten times the amount Ba Nee raised by the way.

I get a kick out of Samantha Newark trying to sound like a tough girl, possibly from Jersey. What do I know? I’m Canadian. Now I’m kind of wishing they kept her as Deirdre’s voice actor. We do get more "tough girl Newark" later in the series though. In an excellent episode.

Later on during the night Rio’s explaining that the power’s still out and offers to stay over. But Jerrica turns him down. They lean in for a kiss.

And hear a bunch of giggling which is cute.

Jerrica turns to them and says, “Jealous?” before kissing Rio.

I like this dynamic between Jerrica and her girls.

Later that night the thug Eric talked to, Zipper, awkwardly breaks into the house. It takes him a couple tries to break the window. Still better than what I could do.

One of the Starlight Girls, Marianne, never named in the show, alerts Jerrica to there being a noise coming from downstairs. So Jerrica takes her sisters with her to check out the noise while the kids stay upstairs and safe.

Because there’s no power and it’s the middle of the night Kimber’s holding a lantern with the biggest damn flame I have ever seen.

Zipper having been caught pushes past Kimber and knocks the lantern out of her hands. And sets the house on fire.

Like, crazily on fire.

And this is where the episode ends.

I would love to do more but this took even longer than I expected and I haven’t been getting enough sleep so I’m quite tired and dizzy. So bedtime for me. I’ll pick this up later, possibly tomorrow.

#Jem and the Holograms #Kujo Watches Jem #Well that took almost three hours #Next episode will have less screenshots. I mostly wanted ones that show the characters when they get introduced #The screenshotting took the most time #I can't wait for the Honor Jar to stop being a thing. I have to consciously make an effort to spell it without a u

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snotsloth · 9 months

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FFxivWrite2023 Day 1: Envoy

Content warnings for brief descriptions of inhumane refugee living conditions, including also brief mentions of death, starvation, and suicide. No specific character deaths mentioned or described.

"Alright, what is next on the docket?" the chairman of the Immigration Committee of the Sharlayan Forum asked, reaching behind himself to where a staffer patiently waited with a fresh packet of papers. "Hopefully this is straightforward and we can adjourn early."

The staffer bent over and whispered in the elderly chairman's ear as he squinted down at the packet in his hands. "Special envoy from the Association of Sharlayan Refugees in Thanalan? What sort of tomfoolery is this?"

The low sufferance of the staffer could not be clearly heard by most in the room, but the chairman's response could be heard clear as a bell, even into the hall. "Yes, I know there's a population of colonials there, but what does that have to do with us here?" More quiet exposition from the staffer. "Yes, I know many have applied for work visas here but most were denied if they weren't already citizens or had sponsorship from one of the academic societies. Theis was all settled years ago. Why are they sending an envoy now?"

The rest of the committee shifted restlessly in their chairs. It was getting on towards late afternoon and many were anxious to adjourn.

"Why should it matter who they sent? They could send Thaliak himself, but it wouldn't change the committee's decision... It's who? Well, why didn't you bloody lead with that you fool?!? Send him in!" The staffer scurried off into the hall.

"I thought you just said it didn't matter who they sent," the vice chairman teased as the double-doors of the council chamber swung closed behind the beleaguered staffer.

"Just wait," the chairman muttered under his breath. "You'll understand in a moment."

The doors swung open again and the staffer held one open as she loudly announced, "Commander Orion Mol-D'Oschon, special envoy of the Association of Sharlayan Refugees in Thanalan, former Scion of the Seventh Dawn, and Warrior of Light."

The entire committee stared as an outrageously tall Xaela man in scholar's robes and spectacles walked into the audience chamber. He was a bit thinner overall than your stereotypical towering warrior of the Steppe and his long, striding legs had a bit of a chocobo-esque quality as he crossed a single yalm with one stride. A careful observer might notice that his short cropped hair was tightly bound into three braids along the side of his scalp in a distinctly Ala Mhigan fashion. He had a deep red complexion and bright, luminous amber eyes that took in his shocked audience with a kind of sharp intelligence that could intimidate even the most elitist academic.

Orion made his way to the podium at the center of the floor and set a robust card-paper folder down. Pulling out a single sheaf of paper, he looked up at his rapt audience, nodded solemnly and began to speak. His voice had the sort of deep resonance most Au Ra men possessed, but his accent had a familiar Sharlayan lilt.

"Esteemed members of the Immigration Committee, I come before you today, not as the Warrior of Light, not as a Scion of the Seventh Dawn, but as a son of your Dravanian Colony. I was born there and spent my earliest years wandering the stacks of the Great Gubal Library with my father, and charting the stars on the parapets of Idylshire with my mother."

"Growing up, I perceived no difference between my parents and other residents of Emporium. My father was an archivist in Gubal and my mother worked as a research assistant for the Faculty of Astrology. We moved in social circles with gleaners, faculty, and various other members of a vibrant academic community. It did not matter to anyone we knew that both of my parents were born to indigenous tribes of the Azim Steppe. But when the Garlean Empire invaded Ala Mhigo and Sharlayan abandoned the Colony, my parents' place of birth suddenly made all the difference in determining whether or not there was a place for us in the ivory halls of Old Sharlayan."

"Like many refugees of both Ala Mhigo and Dravania, my family eventually found ourselves on the outskirts of Ul'dah, all three of us taking what work we could and begging when even the most menial jobs filled up."

"We were seen as outsiders, freeloaders, inconvenient, shiftless, job thieves, just more needy mouths to feed. I would not wish the demeaning, dehumanizing life of a refugee on my worst enemy. The very specific skillset my parents had developed in two decades of service to Sharlayan were of little value in the outside world, and the only other place where their knowledge and experience would be of value had closed its doors to them permanently."

"Still, with all that hardship, my family is counted among the lucky ones. We were three healthy people, capable of hard physical labor and with constitutions that could at least survive if not thrive on the deprivations of camp life. We were eventually able to find stable work more conducive to our skills and afford a small apartment within the walls of the city. many of our friends, and my parents' former colleagues were not so fortunate."

"Over the past fifteen years, the Sharlayan population in Thanalan has seen a mortality rate rivaled only by our Ala Mhigan siblings. Starvation, disease, violence, and suicide claimed almost one in four of my childhood playmates. No child should have to grow up wondering which of their comrades will make it to their next birthday, but to us, death was commonplace."

"I do not tell you all this to play to your sympathies, nor to demonstrate what adversity I fought through even before my days as the Warrior of Light. I tell you all this to impress the stark reality of the consequence of the decisions that this committee made in the past, and to inspire you all to think critically about how your choices in this room will have ripple effects across the entire star."

"These days, the Sharlayan community in Thanalan is small. At this point, I believe I know every living soul by name. many are aging, reaching a point in life where their bodies can no longer withstand the kind of manual labor and long hours they still must work in order to keep a roof over their heads."

"In this folder, I hold the proof of identity and employment records of every former Emporium resident currently living in Thanalan. Not all of them need or want to relocate to Old Sharlayan at this late stage in their lives, but all of them deserve your attention and consideration for some level of official Sharlayan support. These brilliant, amazing people dedicated their lives to the values of Sharlayan; knowledge, learning, unraveling the mysteries of the universe and sharing that knowledge and wisdom with others. While I understand the extenuating circumstances, it cannot be denied that Sharlayan's actions directly impacted their lives and livelihoods. We owe them at least comfortable, fulfilling twilight years."

"Thank you for your time and consideration of my proposal. I will be residing with the Students of Baldesion for the next academic term. This project is my top priority, so I am at your disposal for any information or aid I can provide towards this endeavor. I wish you all a pleasant evening."

With that, he folded his sheaf of paper and tucked it into a pocket of his robe. He picked up the folder and handed it to the staffer who had taken up her post along the side of the audience chamber.

"Thank you, Miss Magnúsdóttir," he said quietly, as she took the folder from him. The young woman's eyes sparkled with hero worship as Orion nodded his head towards her and quietly made his way back through the chamber doors.

As the doors closed, the entire committee could hear what sounded like the lady Ameliance Leveilleur saying to Orion, "How did it go?"

And his humble reply, "Well, I hope. I wasn't jeered out the door."

There was a moment of ringing silence among the committee as Miss Magnúsdóttir hurried back to where the chairman was seated and passed him the hefty folder. "Well," the chairman sighed, defeated. "There goes our budget surplus."

Rules & Info || Prompt List || #FFxivWrite2023 || kofi

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #orion d'oschon #wol #my wol #ffxiv fic #my fic #ffxivwrite2023 #cw brief suicide mention #cw deplorable living conditions for fictional refugees #but let's be real it's just as bad if not worse irl

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ssahotchhner · 3 years

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like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.”

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #hotch fic #hotch fluff #hotch angst #hotch imagine #mine

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

Like a Moth to a Flame Pt. 3

Back at it again and this chapter was fun! Next one we’ll be getting into some more juicy bits but I needed a setup for the scene. So enjoy my friendly little deviants!

Mild TW: mentions of blood, violence, attempted assault, and (very) minor character death

As always, I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for the inspo

Part 1 Part 2

•••••

You feel numb walking down the darkened sidewalk towards home, shock and frustration making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. It had been several weeks since you last saw Mirio, and there hadn’t been any reports of strange, paranormal activity in any other part of town. At least, not according to the papers. Even after the landlord had coughed up the money to replace the ruined fire escape, you’d yet to catch another glimpse of the golden mothman. Night after night you’d put out bowls of sugar water, stayed up late, even pulled a few strings of old Christmas lights out of storage to decorate your portion of the new railing. But come morning, you always found the bait untouched and it left you feeling drained and disappointed. You knew your nightly routine was starting to feel unhealthy, obsessive really, and that your performance at work had been gradually slipping as a result. But it wasn’t until today, when your boss called you in after your shift ended and handed you that soul-crushing pink slip, that you realized just how far it had fallen. And on top of all that, you’d missed the last bus home, forcing you to take a literal walk of shame back to your apartment.

“What am I gonna do?” You breathe into the crisp night air, unconsciously reaching into the pocket of your coat to fish out your phone. Without even looking at the screen, you unlock the device and open your camera roll, tapping on a folder marked “Moth” before finally looking down. There was only one picture on file, but you’d seen it so many times it was practically burned into your retinas. The image was grainy and blurred (not to mention overexposed beyond the point of recognition due to the flash), but you couldn’t give a damn about any of that. The only clear part of the image, the only part you cared about, was the pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you. For some unknown reason, the camera hadn’t distorted them, perfectly capturing their glassy, sapphire hue and wide-eyed expression of curiosity.

And you had spent countless hours poring over it.

In the beginning, you’d convinced yourself it was nothing more than a piece of evidence, proof of your sanity and a confirmation of his existence. But as the days passed, you’d come to take comfort in it, more often than not allowing your mind to wander freely back to the memory of his voice in your ear and the warm weight of his head on your shoulder. You hadn’t even posted it to any of the online forums, jealously hoarding it the same way a dragon protects its treasure.

“Mirio.” You exhale softly, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the cracked surface of your phone screen. “I wish I could fly away from my problems like you. Must be nice having wings…”

“Hey there, baby!”

A gruff, slurring voice abruptly snaps you back to reality, head whipping up to see a trio of men leaning against a rundown building across the street. Their faces are indistinguishable, partially obscured by shadows thrown from a lone street lamp shining over their heads. But you can clearly make out the brown paper bags they have clutched in their fists, the material crumpled and molded into the tell-tale shape of liquor bottles as they continue to heckle you.

“Why dontcha come over here and hang out with us?” The biggest brute calls out, beckons you closer with a crook of his finger. “We’ll show ya a good time.”

“Yeah, a real good time.” The man to his left cackles. His lewd remark earns him a few snickers from his seedy friends while a wave of revulsion courses down your spine. Catcalling wasn’t exactly foreign to you; in this part of town, it was practically expected. But their drunken words and leering eyes make you acutely aware of just how empty the streets are right now, devoid of other people or passing cars to offer protection (or witnesses) should they decide to take things too far. Still, you straighten your spine and snap your eyes forward, long-since trained to know it’s best to ignore their booze-fueled jeers and keep walking.

“Awww, don’t be like that, baby!” You hear one of them call from your right, “We just wanna have some fun!”

You keep your gaze trained on the looming silhouette of your apartment complex, soles of your shoes clicking against the cold pavement as you grip the phone in your hand even more tightly. You’re close enough to see some of the lights are still on your neighbors windows, probably cleaning up from dinner or settling in for a smoke and a drink. With the promise of safety so close at hand, you cast a quick glance over your shoulder….

And feel your blood run cold as you see the men casually strolling across the empty street to fall in line behind you. They’re whispering amongst themselves as they take a few more swigs from their bottles, their shuffling gait and longer legs quickly closing the gap between you. You pick up your own pace in turn, walking much more briskly now and earning a reproachful growl from the men behind you.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” One of them snarls, “Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to ignore people?”

You don’t respond to his jab, too afraid to speak regardless, and set off at a jog, determined to put as much distance between yourself and these morons as possible. But that action proves itself to be a grave mistake, as you hear the footsteps behind you pick up in speed. Before you can fully register what’s happening, one of the men appears over your right shoulder, laughing maniacally as he gives you a rough shove and sends you careening off course and into an adjacent alleyway. The unexpected move knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground and knocking your head into the concrete with enough force to set your teeth rattling. Even worse, you lose your grip on your phone, hearing it skitter off into the darkness as the men crowd into the alley after you.

“I think she could use a lesson in manners! Ain’t that right, boys?” Their leader asks mockingly, seconds before he grabs you by the hair and roughly hauls you back onto your feet.

“Please!” You yelp, both from fear and the pain shooting throughout your scalp, “I-I have money. You can take whatever you want!”

“Whatever we want, huh?” He says with a sneer, his face close enough you can smell the sour aroma of cheap bourbon and old cigarettes on his breath.

“Then gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his free arm wrapping itself around your waist to keep you in place as he tries to force his tongue past your sealed lips and down your throat. Your screams for help are muffled by the kiss, and it’s all you can do to push against his chest and thrash wildly in his hold. His companions stand faithfully behind him, egging him on with bouts of derisive laughter intermingled with hoots to “hurry up and get on with it” so they can have their turn. After a few moments he pulls away for air, arm leaving your waist and clapping the hand that was tangled in your hair over your mouth. Meanwhile, his buddies move to either side of you to grab you by the shoulders and force down on your knees.

“Since you didn’t feel like talkin’…” He growls dangerously, free hand toying with the buckle of his belt. “Let’s see if that pretty little mouth is good for somethin’ else.”

Your eyes widen as his belt comes undone with a soft clink, tears pricking at the corners as he leers down at you. Instinct takes over as he attempts to undo his fly, and before he can move his hand you jerk your head back to partially free your mouth. Then you bite down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

He hastily wrenches his hand from your mouth before you can do any more damage while you take in a desperate lungful of fresh air. A quick glance at his hand shows you’d successfully broken the skin, leaving a perfect, crescent-shaped indent that was quickly beading up with fresh blood.

“Help! Somebody help! Rape! RA-!”

You’re abruptly silenced by a quick blow to your right cheek, delivered by one of the men still holding you down. Throbbing pain radiates out from the point of impact, making your vision white out and earning a cruel laugh from your captors.

“You little bitch!” The injured man spits at you, “Think you’re so tough, huh?”

A small click forces your eyes to open, only to be met with a glint of metal in the light of the full moon: a switchblade.

“Let’s see how tough you are when I slice up that pretty face of yours. Starting with that fuckin’ mouth.”

With a twirl of the blade, he advances towards you, relishing in your helpless state as greedy eyes roam the plane of your terrified face. You’re too scared to scream anymore, eyes squeezing shut as you brace yourself for the first cut. But instead of searing pain, there’s an odd rustling noise, followed by a colossal thump that seems to shake the very earth beneath you. The men holding your shoulders abruptly release you, backing away amidst a slew of bewildered curses. Slowly, you crack one eye open to find a new, dark figure standing in front of you, blotting out the moon itself and effectively shielding you from your would-be rapist.

“M-Mirio?” You gasp, voice wavering from disbelief and shock. The golden cryptid looks over his shoulder at you, only giving a chittering cry at the sound of your voice.

“What the fuck!?” The man behind him screeches, “The fuck is that thing?!”

Mirio’s head snaps around to face the terrified thug, wings slowly raising in a show of strength and dominance as he lets out a low, menacing growl.

“Y/N…” He snarls, taking a short step forward and shifting into a crouch. “Mine.”

“S-stay back!” The man stammers, jabbing the switchblade into the empty air in front of him like a puny saber. “I’m warning you!”

Mirio gives a low hiss in response, wings fully extended as he lowers himself to place one hand on the ground. You’re frozen on the spot, hardly daring to breathe as you sense the slightest movement could set him off. For a moment, everything is still. And then, spurred on by loyalty, liquid courage or a combination of the two, the other thugs charge Mirio from behind. Moving faster than you could comprehend, Mirio whips around with a high-pitched shriek, landing a powerful swipe to the center of one man’s chest and sending him crashing to the pavement beside you. The other one was luckier, successfully jumping onto the monster’s back and causing Mirio to rear up on his back legs once more. The attacker then attempts to wrap his arms around Mirio’s neck, perhaps hoping to cut off his air supply or at least distract him long enough for the third man to join the fray.

But Mirio was obviously stronger and smarter than he was expecting.

Clawed hands scratch at the attacker’s face and shoulders before the winged behemoth suddenly flops onto his back, bringing his full weight down on the foolhardy attacker with a sickening crunch. Rolling back onto all fours, the man is left gasping for air on the ground, possibly with a punctured lung or (at the very least) a few broken ribs. Undeterred by his pitiful cries for mercy, Mirio looses an unearthly roar before grabbing the man by the front of his sweat-soaked shirt, rising to his full height, and tossing him towards the empty street like he weighed no more than a ragdoll.

“MINE!” He bellows, “MIIIIIIINE!”

“Fuck you!” The remaining man screams in return, rushing towards the towering beast with his switchblade held aloft. “Die, you fuckin’ freak!”

Mirio shifts back into a fighting stance, his back to you as he lets out another spine-chilling howl and rushes forward to greet the oncoming attack. At the same time, the moon moves behind a cloud, throwing the alleyway into inky darkness as you shriek and cover your head with your hands. With your eyes screwed shut, all you can hear is the man’s incensed grunts and yells, overshadowed by Mirio’s own enraged roars and the scratch of his nails on the dirty concrete. After a few seconds of struggle, Mirio gives a piercing cry, followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh and a strangled, gurgling noise. The fight ends as suddenly as it started, the only sounds now coming from your own terrified whimpers and the clatter of the switchblade falling to the ground.

Peeking out from between your fingers, you find the sky has started to lighten once more, the moon reappearing from behind the clouds and washing the bizarre scene in an unsettling, ethereal hue. The scrawniest attacker is still sprawled out next to you, unconscious but mercifully alive given the force of his impact. Mirio stands facing towards you, breathing heavily as the wings on his back shiver and shake. And at his feet, eyes wide and lifeless, is the leader’s body, his face covered in deep claw marks and a puddle of blood seeping out from underneath him like an oil slick.

“You… you killed him.” You breathe, “Mirio, h-he’s dead.”

Mirio doesn’t make any move to acknowledge your words, simply sinking to his knees with a rumbling groan. He seems almost sad, remorseful even, with the way he hangs his head and curls his bloodied hands into fists atop his knees. In this new light, you also notice something on the mothman’s left forearm: a clean, shallow gash. That must have been the cause for his shrieking earlier.

Slowly you stand once more, swallowing the lump in your throat to take a few tentative steps toward the creature.

“Are you… hurt?” You ask softly, noting the way he jolts and then shrinks away from you. You’re only a few feet away now, close enough to make out the faint stripes and eye-spot pattern on his wings. You nervously crouch down, balancing on the balls of your feet but keeping a safe distance should he turn aggressive. A chilly breeze blows through the alley, pushing against your back and making the creature raise his head up slightly, sniffing the air. His gaze locks on your face, glassy eyes wide as he slowly puts his palms on the ground and gets back on all fours. He moves one clawed hand closer to you and you start for a second, taking a quick step back before catching sight of the streaks of blood dripping from his forearm once more.

“Hurt?” You say again, pointing a shaky finger at the wound. His eyes follow to where you’re pointing and he lets out a chittering mewl, lifting up his injured arm. His long, slithering tongue snakes out from his mouth and he begins to lap at the blood, wincing at the taste. You’re unsure if this is real or an act. On the one hand, it’s hard to believe a creature so obviously powerful as him would be so concerned over little more than a scratch. Then again, you feel certain Mirio is too much of a gentle soul at heart to fake the whole “kicked-puppy” routine.

“No. Don’t do that.” You chide gently, tone forcing the monster to stop licking at himself and look up at you. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish around until your fingers close around a crumpled, but thankfully unused, piece of tissue. When you pull it out of your pocket, Mirio’s eyes narrow into slits and he bares his teeth to let out a small, warning hiss.

“Easy, boy.” You say soothingly, “It can’t hurt you. See?”

You extend your free hand and pat the tissue against your own palm, demonstrating it’s benign nature. Mirio’s face gradually relaxes as he watches your display, eventually crawling over the corpse on the ground to get closer to you. You’re now practically nose-to-nose with the mothman, dropping your empty hand by your side and using the tissue to gesture at the cut on his arm.

“Let me help.”

Mirio gives a short blink before shifting into a squatting position similar to your own, carefully extending his injured arm towards you. Doing your best to not cause him any pain, you carefully start to dab at the areas around the cut, mopping up the spilled blood as the monster watches you work.

“Y/N.” He says softly, his voice causing you to look up from your task. Mirio raises his other hand to touch the right-hand side of your face, sending a bolt of prickly pain shooting through your skull and making you wince. You’d been so caught up in the chaos and adrenaline-fueled high that you’d forgotten about your own injuries. No doubt you’ve got a sizable bruise forming from where that thug had punched you earlier. Mirio’s stiffens up at the your response, brow furrowing in concern as he quickly pulls his hand away.

“H-hurt?”

“A little…” You mumble in response, “But I’ll be alright.”

He stills for a moment and you offer him a small, pained smile, hoping to reassure him. And the next thing you know he’s moving, clutching you to his chest in a protective embrace and nuzzling his face into your neck. You squeak a little at the unexpected move, body going rigid in fear of being attacked. But soon his sweet scent and warmth fully envelop your senses, causing you to relax in his hold.

“Hurt.” He whimpers in your ear, “Y/N hurt. My fault.”

You can feel your heart clench at his words. He sounds so guilty. Helpless even. Like a child crying to their mother for comfort. Before you can think better of it, you wrap your arms around him in return, worming your hands underneath his wings to rest on his well-defined shoulder blades.

“Oh, Mirio no! It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to hurt me.”

His body begins to shake, his breathing turning into ragged gasps as he squeezes you even more tightly. One hand leaves your back to cradle your head, the sheer size of his fingers tangling in your hair making you feel like doll-like. The two of you stay locked together like this for a few minutes, holding onto each other in the moonlight as Mirio continues to tremble beneath your touch.

“Mirio. I-” You softly breathe, causing him to raise his golden head and look you in the eye. You have so many questions for him, so many things you like to say. But all that comes out is a quiet, “Thank you.”

He cocks his handsome head to one side before a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, pearly teeth reappearing as he gives a short nod of understanding.

“Mirio… keep Y/N safe.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” You say with a weak chuckle, reaching up one hand to brush an errant strand of blonde hair away from his face. “I’m safe now.”

Mirio coos as he presses his cheek into your palm, the same way he’d done outside your apartment complex all those weeks ago. His eyes close contentedly and you can’t help but smile at his blissful expression.

“Y/N. Mine.” He purrs.

You freeze at the bold statement, pulling your hand away and earning a disappointed mewl from Mirio.

“You said that before. Mirio, what do you mean–?”

“You there! Freeze!”

A familiar voice cuts off your question nanoseconds before a powerful flashlight is aimed directly at Mirio’s back. Even though you can’t see around his massive frame, you can tell it’s the same officer who caught you the last time Mirio visited you.

Only now, the cornered cryptid hadn’t had the chance to fly away.

“Hands where I can see them!” The officer demands, flashlight in one hand and a pistol in the other. Mirio makes no such move. Instead, he rises to his feet, hooking one arm under your thighs and taking you up with him.

“Wait! Mirio, don’t!” You shriek, desperately grabbing at his chest and mane as he turns to face the officer. It’s a terrifying sight for the poor man: three bodies strewn across a bloody alley, a blue-eyed beast, and a helpless civilian seemingly taken captive.

“D-drop the hostage!” He stammers out. “Do it, or I’ll shoot!”

You can tell from the way the light wavers that he’s shaking and you suspect the only reason he hasn’t fired his weapon yet is because he doesn’t want to risk hitting you. Your eyes flit wildly between his and Mirio’s face, finding his fangs are bared as he lets out a warning hiss.

“Y/N.” Mirio snarls, wings slowly unfurling behind him as he bends his knees and tightens his grip on you. “Mine!”

With that final declaration, Mirio gives his wings a powerful flap and kicks off from the ground. You scream as you take flight, tiny fingers digging into the solid muscle of Mirio’s chest and neck for safety. Between the sound of rushing wind and your own heartbeat jackhammering in your ears, you can barely make out the officer’s voice telling him to stop, followed by a rogue gunshot. And then there’s nothing. Nothing save for the wind in your hair and Mirio’s howl of victory as he carries you ever higher into the starry night sky.

“Stop!” You shriek, cold air stinging your battered face and forcing your eyes closed. “Put me down! Mirio, let go!”

Mirio doesn’t respond to your demands, either unable or unwilling to hear you as he sets off over the rooftops. After a few minutes of careful flying, he abruptly changes course, veering off westward and heading for the woods that ring the city limits.

“Keep Y/N safe.” Mirio says resolvedly, his voice rumbling through his chest and directly in your ear.

“Y/N… mine.”

•••••

Tags: @middevil465 @delightfully-anonymous

#bnha mothman au #mothrio #mothmanmirio #mha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: attempted assault #mha #bnha

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rainbowchristy · 3 years

Text

Let the Human In (Chapter Twelve - Unique)

Summary: It’s just a regular workday for Phil. Doing rounds with his patients, helping out with the occasional emergency department case. The only difference? He has one new patient in the ED. One found unconscious on the street. One who starts throwing up from seemingly nothing. One, with a very dark backstory and no hope for the future.

Or, Dan is being sex trafficked and Phil’s a psych resident who just wants to help, even if everyone around him is telling him he’s too invested.

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by the character Danny Jones from Chicago Med but you don’t need to know anything about the show to read this!

TW: References to abuse, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, references to eating disorders, references to schizophrenia & clinical descriptions of suicide attempts.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1 | Last Chapter

Phil finishes his lunch and empties his tray. He decides it’s best for him to update Dr Forest on his patients before returning to Will. He knocks on her door and hears a faint, “come in.”

Pushing open the door, he sees the scattered papers on her left and the pile of folders on her right. The top file’s open and she glances at it before typing on her computer some more. Phil waits patiently for her to finish what she’s working on.

“Phil,” she says happily once she finishes typing and looks at him. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Ah, good good. Chugging along. What can I help you with?”

“Just thought I’d do my daily check-in.”

She gestures for him to go on. He takes a seat in one of the armchairs across from her.

“Okay, so, Liz is doing really well. She ate all her breakfast, didn’t purge and didn’t feel guilty for not purging. She said she felt really good about it and acknowledged the improvement from when she came in.”

“That’s amazing progress. You must be very proud.”

“Of her, yeah. She’s made huge progress in such a short amount of time. She’s obviously still got a long way to go but if she keeps going, I reckon I’ll be recommending her discharge within a few weeks.”

Dr Forrest nods. “I’d be inclined to agree with that, after my own assessment, of course.”

“Of course,” Phil agrees before moving on. “Luke’s gotten used to his medication, though.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He didn’t want to trust me at all.”

“So what did you do?”

“I decided to change his medication since that one wasn’t working anymore and it was already at its highest dose. I gave him two milligrams of risperidone and he’ll have another two tonight with dinner.”

She nods. “How’d he go taking the medication?”

“He didn’t want to, like, at all. I’m not really sure how I convinced him,” Phil admits honestly. He rubs the back of his neck and then rubs his thumb over the knuckles of his other hand.

“You have a way of calming people, Phil. It’s an important skill for us to have and you seem to have a naturally calming nature. I noticed it even when I first met you.”

Phil folds in on himself a little, unsure what to make of that. What on Earth did ‘naturally calming nature’ mean? He knew what each word meant and what they meant in that order, but how could she pick up on something like that? What did he do that was ‘naturally calming’?

It’s silent for a short while before Phil clears his throat, sitting himself back up straight. “There was a kid brought into the ED for a suicide attempt today so I tried to speak to him. He wasn’t the friendliest, though, so I didn’t get anything out of him. His parents filled me in on what they knew.”

After he fills Ruby in on Will’s situation, not that there is much to tell, he turns his focus to his last patient.

“I think Dan had a panic attack in the general ward so he had to be transferred back to the ICU. He went into RA but we aren’t sure why. He was also tied down.”

“What?” she says, interrupting him.

“Yeah!” Phil confirms, equally exasperated, “by security, too.”

Dr Forrest tuts and shakes her head. “It’s as if no one has read the hospital policy for psychiatric patients. I’ll talk to them about it again but it probably won’t make any difference.”

Phil nods before moving on. “I haven’t spoken to him much, just updating him on his clinical situation. He shut down on me though, no idea why, so I left and went for lunch.”

“What do you think you’ll do?”

“I’m going to try talking to Will again after this but I think I might just sit and tell him about myself,” he says, ending it in a question. “It helped him open up when he was first brought in and after he woke up from the coma, at least a little bit anyway.”

“Sounds like having the attention off of him is what he needs.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

Dr Forrest pauses for a moment. “Hang on, how come you’re talking to him and not one of the other doctors?”

Phil blinks before remembering – yet again – that he’s not Dan’s doctor anymore.

“Oh, right.” She raises her eyebrows. “When Dan woke up, I was called. I guess no one told the ICU that I’m not Dan’s primary anymore. But I kinda just did my job while I was there. I figured he’s not living with me yet anyway so it’s not really a big problem if I help out until things can get sorted. I guess I just forgot to tell anyone, what with everything going on.”

Ruby looks at him and Phil gets the feeling she doesn’t believe him. “Philip–” she starts and yep, she definitely doesn’t believe him, “it’s important Dan gets used to his new primary before being discharged.”

Phil nods, looking down as if he’s a child getting in trouble for eating the last cookie.

“Now, who do you think would work well as Dan’s new primary?”

Phil thinks. He’s got plenty of great colleagues but he can’t stop his immediate thought – none of them would do as well as he does with Dan. He feels bad for thinking that. They’ve all been working in psychiatry for longer than him; he knows logically they’re more qualified. But Dan, he trusts Phil, and Phil knows how important trust is in this line of business.

“Um, Cassie, maybe?” She’s a nice, young woman who finished her residency the year before Phil joined. Phil has the feeling that Dan will do better with someone younger as opposed to some of the older psychiatrists at UCH.

Ruby nods, seemingly happy with his choice. “Page her and see if she can take another patient.”

“Will do,” Phil answers.

He’s about to stand up to leave when Dr Forrest continues. “And how are you doing? I know you saw Michael yesterday. How did that go?”

Phil chooses to ignore how she knows he saw Michael yesterday. And wow, was that really just yesterday? It feels like a millennium ago. Though Phil supposes every day has felt twice as long since Dan first came into the emergency department.

“Good. I bought some games to play in my off-time.”

She smiles. “That’s good. It’s important to have things to do to de-stress, especially in jobs like our’s.”

“What do you do to de-stress?”

“Well, I’ve found art to be a good stress relief for me. I paint whatever’s on my mind to get it out into the real world. It’s easier to understand, that way.”

Phil nods. “I’ve never been much of an artist but I know lots of studies that show the benefits of art therapy.”

Ruby laughs and Phil tilts his head slightly, confused. “I remember when I was a resident, everything came back to what was and wasn’t empirically supported. It’s important, yes. But if something has no evidence one way or the other and seems to work for an individual, it’s worth pursuing. People are unique, no study can capture that.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Phil says, thinking. He’s always been logical. Sure, he can have fun and be playful, but anything important always comes back to the facts. He never thought work would be any different. And it’s not like he’s got a textbook in front of him to treat his patients, but he is always referring back to what he knows as fact (or, at least, as close to fact as science can get).

It’s quiet for a bit while Phil thinks and by the time he reminds himself he’s in the middle of a conversation, Dr Forrest has already returned to her work. He decides to exit quietly but he does smile at her as he closes the door.

~~~~

Phil heads to the treatment room Will was assigned to.

“Hello,” Phil greets, closing the door behind him. Robin smiles at him in greeting but doesn’t say anything. Linda’s holding a crumpled tissue to her nose but manages to give him a watery smile. “How are you feeling?” he asks, turning his attention to his patient.

He’s on his side, facing Phil this time, but Phil guesses that’s only because the boy’s parents are on his other side. He shrugs, refusing to look at him. Phil follows his eyes and watches the drip drip drip of the IV.

Phil turns to his parents. “Would you mind if Will and I had some time alone?”

Robin shakes his head for the both of them and leads his wife from the room. Phil adjusts the curtain once the glass sliding door is closed.

“I’m Dr Lester,” Phil says, remembering he had yet to introduce himself to Will. “What’s your name?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Cut the crap. You know everything; there’s nothing for me to tell you.”

Phil smiles sadly. “Well, everything might be a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t know a lot of things. What I’m most interested in learning right now, though, is why you’re here.”

“You know why,” Will huffs. “If you're going to be annoying and ask questions, at least ask things you don’t know the answer to.”

Phil takes a seat now that he knows Will is actually up for talking. “Okay, sorry. Um, I know you were brought in because your dad found you in a,” he pauses to choose his words carefully, “in an unfortunate position. Would you like to tell me how you ended up there?”

After a sigh, Will looks at Phil for the first time. Phil watches as he scans him up and down, clearly sizing him up. “I wanted it to stop,” he says, apparently deciding Phil is safe enough.

“Wanted what to stop?” Phil prods.

“Everything.” Will rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “The bullying, the arguing, everything.”

“Well let’s tackle one thing at a time. What do you mean ‘the bullying’?”

“At school. There’s a group of guys a few years above me.”

“And what do they do?”

“The usual. You know, teasing, calling me names,” he trails off his list.

Phil nods in understanding. “Have they ever hurt you physically?”

Will nods. “Just a couple of times. When I fought back; learnt not to do that pretty quick.” He laughs curtly.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He pauses, allowing Will time to say more if he wanted to. “Now, you mentioned arguing. What’s that about?”

“My parents. They think I don’t know but they’re always arguing. And it’s always about me.”

Phil instantly wonders if that’s hyperbolic, but it’s not his place to say. He’s supposed to listen to what Will’s perspective is. If that ends up not being the whole truth, then he helps Will realise that on his own. “And what do they say?”

“They just argue about what to do with me. Dad wants to send me off to some random military school but Mum wants me to stay home. I don’t know, I guess I just got sick of causing problems. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway.”

Phil nods, jotting down a few random notes. He’d be more thorough in his proper write up after this chat. Besides, having someone take notes in the middle of a conversation can be pretty jarring, not to mention anxiety-provoking. “Do you think your parents would have saved you if they wouldn’t have missed you?”

Will shrugs, obviously not up for seriously entertaining the question. “I just make their life difficult. And I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”

“What can’t you help, Will?”

His eyes widen and he looks at Phil. There’s a pause while he thinks.

“Look, I’m not going to do it again. Can you discharge me now?”

Phil gives a tight-lipped smile. “It doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid.”

Will sits up, anger written all over his face. “Why the hell not?” he shouts. “I said I won’t try again!”

“Because I need to properly assess you to evaluate your risk. Unfortunately, we can’t just take your word for it.”

“So you’re calling me a fucking liar? Some shrink you are.”

Phil blinks, unsure where this sudden change has come from. “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just trying to understand what’s happened to have you end up here. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t need your fucking help. Go get my parents. They’ll tell you to discharge me.”

Knowing he isn’t going to get any further while Will was in this mood, he nods. “Okay, I’ll come back later.”

“I wouldn’t fucking bother. I won’t be here much longer.”

Phil nods, not sure what to say. He decides just to leave and he waves to Will’s parents, signalling they could go back in. He’d have to talk to them again in a bit, see if he can’t get some more information out of them.

Will’s picture is still cloudy. There are so many gaps that just aren’t making sense. Though Phil supposes this is exactly why a part of him loves the job. He loves the job for lots of reasons, of course, but being able to piece together someone’s life to help them recover is a great feeling. Like putting in the final piece of a one-million piece puzzle.

~~~~

Phil checks in with Dan again but there’s little change. Whatever happened earlier is still playing on his mind because he won’t even look at Phil.

Still, he sits and talks with him. Well, more at him, since it’s a very one-sided conversation. Phil just tells him more stories about his life, most of them from his admittedly strange childhood. After a half-hour with no sign of life from Dan – other than the beeping of his heart monitor and the rise and fall of his chest – Phil resigns himself.

He has to remind himself that it’s only been a few days since Dan’s whole life got flipped on his head. Phil has to stop his train of thought and check, but it really has only been three days since Dan was brought in. Phil tells himself to give Dan more time. He’ll check in again tomorrow.

He ends up wandering around the psychiatric ward and the emergency department, making himself useful wherever he’s needed. While he’s on break to eat dinner, he gets a message from Kyle.

7:14 pm - From Kyle: I finish at 8. Bar tonight?

Phil smiles, glad Kyle’s messaged him. It means they’re okay. Maybe not good, but okay. But it’s a Sunday night and Phil honestly just wants his bed. He’s typing out an apology message when he stops. Michael’s words are ringing in his ear.

Remember to spend time with the people you care about.

Even if things are awkward between them, Phil does still care about Kyle and he knows Kyle cares about him.

He closes his eyes, sighs, deletes the message and sends an affirmative one instead. He’s finishing at the same time so it works out well. Most of the time one of them has to hang around for at least a couple of hours. Sometimes it’ll be too long and they decide to just meet at Marcus’, or forgo it entirely. Though the latter is reserved for nights after too-long shifts when they wouldn’t be any fun anyway. Marcus’ is a sort of staple in their life at this point and Phil’s glad their talk isn’t getting in the way of that.

After doing a final check-in with Liz and Luke – and having to convince him to take his medication again – he clocks out for the night.

“Hey!” he calls when he sees Kyle leaning against one of the pillars outside the hospital entrance.

He turns and smiles sheepishly. “Hey. Ready to go?”

Phil nods and they set off. It doesn’t take long to hail a cab. They walk most of the time since it’s not too far, but Kyle’s feet are “about to fall the fuck off” so they climb into the car instead.

The cabbie is familiar with Marcus’ bar and happily takes them there. He asks them about their day and Phil manages to make chitchat. Kyle, on the other hand, is silent and leaning against the door, looking as if he’s hoping the lock will break and he’ll tumble out of the car. Phil wonders why Kyle even asked him to go to Marcus’ when it’s clear he’s so uncomfortable in Phil’s presence. He decides not to question it and try to just enjoy the night.

They pull out outside Marcus’ after a few minutes and Phil hands the cabbie a £10 note, telling him to keep the change.

Kyle seems to light up once they enter the front door and Phil’s not sure where the sudden change comes from.

He grins at Phil and rushes over to the bar, hopping onto one of the stools with a bounce. “Marcus!” he says loudly over the music. Phil laughs as he follows him – it’s as if Kyle’s already drunk just from the atmosphere.

“The usual, lads?”

Kyle nods. “Times two!”

Phil takes his own seat as Marcus starts making their drinks. They both thank him when they’re served and Kyle takes a big gulp while Phil stirs his.

They sit in silence and enjoy their drinks for a bit. Though for Kyle, it seems more like a competition Phil never agreed to.

“No going slow tonight?” he asks with a laugh as Kyle empties his second glass. Phil’s is still on his first and it’s only half empty.

Kyle just blinks at him slowly. Phil watches his cheeks heat up and as Marcus comes back to hand Kyle his third drink, he puts his hand up. “No thanks, sorry.”

Marcus just nods and puts it down. “What’s up?” Phil asks, giving him the opportunity to discuss what’s on his mind without making it sound like he’s going to therapise him.

Kyle swivels his stool so it’s facing the bar instead of half facing Phil. He shrugs and leans over the bar to grab the drink. He takes a sip and puts it back down.

Everything’s off tonight. Phil can’t pinpoint why but it just is. The music doesn’t calm him in its usual way and the alcohol certainly doesn’t give him a pleasant buzz.

As he watches Kyle, who's watching the dance floor, he can’t help but wonder if Kyle’s cutting himself off to avoid a repeat of the other night. And if he is, Phil can’t blame him – he doesn’t want a repeat either.

Next Chapter

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #phandom #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #philip lester #phil lester #amazingphil #christy's writing #Let the Human In Fic

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

In Retrospect

Chapter 6 of The Spring He Came Back | 6 of 12

Hitsugaya had a plan – become the youngest tenured faculty in the academy and have countless watermelon contests with Baba and Momo. Graduation and tenure meant freedom to come home, to live out the rest of his days with the only family he knew. What he did not take into consideration was the prospect of marriage.

“That’s your plan?” Rangiku asked incredulously. Hidden between those words, he knew, was mockery. “You really are going through puberty.”

“Shut up, Rangiku. What do you know?”

“As a lady soon to reach the prime age of 18, I know a lot more than you. Raging hormones, pulls of attraction, intense infatuation-“

Hitsugaya had to cut her off before she ventured into more delicate matters, Rangiku-style. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t intend to marry.”

“Unless you see yourself marrying Hinamori, then you’re set for life. Otherwise, it’s an overly simplistic plan dead set on failing.”

“I don’t think of her like that. She’s just…my friend or like a sister.”

Rangiku didn’t say anything back then, but she brought it up again during their trip to Karakura. “Hey Hitsugaya. If you see Momo as your sister, why do you go through the extra mile for her? Sneaking out to meet her? Studying how to preserve daffodils? Renting out the custodian room? With family, you assume they’ll always be there, but you act as if you always need to do something for her to stay.”

He pretended to doze off right at that moment to avoid answering her question, simply because he was also confused. Momo is home, that he knew for sure. When the academy opened its gates for general admission, he half-expected Momo to apply. She was curious of the world and has a way with nature and plants. She would be interested in a formal education, at the very least. When she got accepted, he was beyond happy despite the black and white rules of classism and made-up hierarchy. When she told him she would like to be considered as a Soul core member, he wondered if that was her personal dream. Regardless, he rooted for her success. He always believed in her capabilities, and he never saw her lagging behind. She has her own pace and her own road to pave while he has his. In his mind, they were two separate journeys hoping to merge at the end of their respective successful conclusions.

So when did the realization set in that their paths have indefinite forks, forever parallel in their progress? Was it when he heard the uncertainty in her voice when their friends told her about the repercussions of her eventual Soul membership? Was it the twinkle in her eyes when she first told him she volunteered to assist Aizen in his studies? Was it the delivery of the news from Unohana that Aizen did not advocate for her membership to Soul, stating that Momo herself denied the offer? Or was it the tacit recklessness of her fieldwork which left Baba alone in the process?

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

Tired eyes stared back at him and she mustered an apologetic smile. “I was in a fieldwork, Shirou. I’ll make it up to Baba, I promise.” Before she could take any step further, she suddenly collapsed on the ground. He ran towards her in a flurry, his heartbeat pounding wildly on his chest. He brought her inside, his feet knowing where her room was, and his mouth calling for Baba. Momo was running a high fever, possibly from fatigue and extended exposure to foreign elements.

“Do I need to call a doctor?” Baba was breathless as she entered the room. She placed her palm on her grandchild’s forehead and released a breath in relief. “We don’t have to. I’ll brew a medicinal tea. Help me gather the herbs Hitsugaya.”

The sun was setting when he got back, but Momo was still unconscious. He sat next to her futon and replaced the towel on her forehead. Somehow the temperature lowered down. It was so unlike Momo to leave Baba alone for two weeks, and especially during her birthday. He couldn’t help but feel angry towards Aizen. It was clear he was overworking her with no regards to her physical health. He didn’t even bother to check if his assistant was in good condition when they wrapped up the on the field. Then again, Momo was not the type to complain and openly state her well-being.

Books, notes, and papers were strewn around her once immaculate room. Too busy and overworked to clean, he thought. A folder with the label ‘References’ caught his attention. Curious if it contained the literature she was studying, he opened it. Contrary to his expectation, it was full of Aizen’s university records – from his student days to his faculty experience. The professor should have been tenured by now, considering his qualifications, publications, and pedigree, but he kept bouncing from one university to another. Maybe he just doesn’t want to settle down?

It dawned on him that Momo’s admiration for Aizen ran deep. She deferred the membership because that would take her away from the professor’s side. She didn’t need the academy or the prestige of being identified as a Soul. She only needed Aizen’s referral to apply in the same universities he studied in. Unfamiliar emotions rose to the surface. She chose a dream away from his side but closer to the professor’s. The fork in their roads was a deliberate, conscious decision, and he felt slighted at the implication.

Beside the folder was a photocopy of a list of equations and diagrams. Scrawled at the bottom were notes in a handwriting very familiar to him. Why was the work of his internship mentor, Urahara Kisuke, in Aizen’s studies?

Hitsugaya was broken out of his reverie when Momo stirred from her sleep. He hovered above her, checking again her temperature and called for Baba. She stared at him through her hooded eyes. “You stayed, Shirou?”

“Of course, silly. No one can drag your heavy body from the ground but me.”

“Did you win?”

“It was a draw. Ishida was too good for us and could have won with a landslide, but thank God Ichigo messed up his presentation.” He assisted Baba in helping Momo drink the herbal medicine. The old woman was near tears when Momo apologized for missing out on her birthday.

“My dear, just rest and recuperate. We’ll never leave your side. Let’s celebrate on another day, okay?” Baba placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Momo nodded weakly.

Baba shuffled out the room, a weight lifted off from her shoulders. “I’ll be preparing dinner, Hitsugaya. Are you going to stay the night?”

Momo was out of the woods, and Baba has all the ingredients for medicine. He was worried, but ultimately, he knew he wasn’t needed here. “I should go.”

A hand reached out under the blanket and wrapped itself loosely around his wrist, the fingers cold and clammy. “Shirou.” She didn’t need to say anything more. It was the silent plea in her voice and his uncontrollable urge to care for her. He swayed to her words as if he was programmed to do so the day he set foot in this world,

“On second thought, I might sleep here, Baba.” The old woman smiled at her two charges, happy to see them reunited despite the circumstances. She hummed a tune on her way back to the kitchen.

Hitsugaya also smiled, wanting time to revert to days of tranquility and blissful ignorance. He plied her fingers off his wrist, wanting to place it back under the comfort of her blanket, but he found himself wounding his own fingers through hers. He glanced at her face at any sign of objection and discomfort. “Is this okay?”

“Hmm.” She tightened her clasp on his hand and fell back to her deep slumber a moment after. He wished to have this privilege repeated when she regains her clarity, but he knew they’d be a fumbling mess of embarrassed individuals. It’s okay to stay like this.

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

They were granted two weeks of vacation after the Karakura event, the remaining of which Hitsugaya spent with Momo and Baba. With two people keeping her in close observation throughout her full recovery, Momo had to temporarily stop writing research drafts. She was on bed rest in the next two days with Hitsugaya beside her. The following day, she was granted permission by Baba to walk around the compound, and on the next day, Hitsugaya and her slipped out to the meadow, still brimming with daffodils but some parts have wilted to signal the start of winter.

“We should buy a cake for Baba. Do you think there’s a watermelon-flavored one?” Momo busied her fingers, making crown out of the flowers. They never got around to talk about her denied confirmation to Soul yet.

“Your saturation point must be too high. We have been devouring that fruit since your bed rest.” But he didn’t want to be the person to bring it up first. “Let’s stick with vanilla and caramel. I’ll find one in the town central tomorrow. Can’t believe it’s gonna be another the start of another semester again.”

“Shirou?”

“Hmm?”

Her fingers stopped working on the flower crown, but she did not raise her eyes to him. “I won’t apologize for the Soul offer. I don’t want it at the moment.”

That hurt him in more ways than one. “Okay.”

“What?” She whipped her head back at him, wondering why he wasn’t angry.

Well, he didn’t have any right to be angry, after all. It wasn’t her plan. He wasn’t on her plan, and no matter how much he wanted her to accept the membership and stay closer to him, it still stood that he won’t be part of her plan. He has no right to take that choice away from her because….he was just a friend. “Just promise me you won’t overwork yourself.”

He was thankful that she smiled, having been relieved of the burden to articulate the why’s behind her decision. Frankly, he also didn’t want to hear them directly from her mouth.

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll try!”

“For all that it’s worth, I hope he compensates you enough. Or put your name as his co-author.”

“Huh?”

Questioning eyes prodded more explanation from him. “Compensation. You know, salary that professors give to their RAs? Funding usually covers those fees. It’s also standard academe ethic to acknowledge them in their papers or have them as their co-authors.”

Momo’s face was a blank slate.

That can’t be right. Aizen did those, didn’t he? Hitsugaya opened his mouth again to pry the specifics of their contract, but Momo put on her jovial self, her defense mechanism. He decided not to push her, given that she just recovered.

“This would look good on you.” She nimbly placed the flower crown on his head, her smile breaking into laughter at the shock and embarrassment on his face.

“Get this off Momo before someone sees us!”

“Oh come on, just five minutes please.”

He relented, only to prolong her laughter in his presence. “I can’t say no to you.”

She scooted closer to him and arranged the flowers on his head, touching the tendrils of his silver hair. In a non-Momo fashion, she scooped up his cheeks in her hands. “You look like a cute dumpling!”

Warmth flooded his cheeks. “You’re too close Momo,” he tried to say through his scrunched mouth. He took hold of her wrists, trying to pry her hands away from his face, and it was a situation stupidly similar to that night they held hands. “I like you.”

He just blurted it out like that, her wrists in his hands, her daffodil flower crown on his head, and her smile still on her face. It wasn’t a declaration based on impulse, it was a domino effect of all the little things, all the little feelings, and all the little encounters. One by one, they have filled up his entirety like how a small daffodil can fill up a meadow. At that very moment, he understood what Rangiku meant.

“I like you too, Shirou.” It was an empty echo borne out of a friendship reflex. She knew that he knew they didn’t hold the same weight as his, but it was enough for now.

He pulled her in for a hug in the middle of that yellow meadow, a witness to their growth and the last happy memory they would have together.

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

He wouldn’t say Momo avoided him for that semester, but her appearance suddenly became scarce. Up until the middle of the semester, she still went to their secret room and profusely apologized to the three Rs for denying the membership offer. She made it up to them, bringing bento boxes, buying new sets of tea and coffee. Hitsugaya noticed she didn’t mention their conversation and hug again, and he considered they were already past it. Then, she just stopped coming.

Irked and superbly irritated, he tried going to their side of the building. Almost conveniently, Aizen ran into him and asked what he wanted from his classes. Not wanting to stir up the pot, Hitsugaya made an excuse about getting lost and returned to the core building side. Something is fishy. If I cannot see her in the academy, there’s one place to go to.

He sneaked out one weekend to the compound to know how she was. To his surprise, the area was largely unkempt and most windows were closed. It was highly unusual because Baba will never slack out on her chores. He heard chronic coughing behind the door, a loud boom, and a string of things crashing one after another.

“Baba!” He found her lying on the floor, blood dripping from her mouth, her hands scratched with broken shards of glass.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as his small figure tried to lift her up on his back. It was a miracle that he was able to reach the hospital just in time before she crashed. He wasn’t family, but the doctors needed consent for an immediate surgery. He gave the go-signal. He couldn’t wait for Momo.

She appeared at midnight, well past the time Baba had her surgery. Pale-faced and shivering from fear, she turned to Hitsugaya, willing him to tell her what happened, but he wasn’t looking at her.

A doctor appeared at his side, saving him from a lengthy conversation he didn’t have the energy to make.

“Your grandmother had chronic coughing in the past few weeks, it seemed, and she developed pneumonia. The infection scarred her lungs and caved them in, and that made her cough up blood. We had to take some portion of it out in surgery. She’s in the ICU and recovering, but you need to wait for a while because she is still susceptible to infections.”

Momo mouthed her thank you before dropping against the wall beside Hitsugaya.

“Where were you, Momo?”

“I was working with Dr. Aizen in some of his experiments. The workload was too much I had to sleep in school. I didn’t come home for two weeks. Only two weeks.”

“In those two weeks you left her alone, sick, and bedridden with no one to care for her.” Hitsugaya can’t stop the spite in his voice. “If I didn’t come to your house, you would not have found her alive.”

“I needed this. Baba understood me when I told her I’d be gone.”

“Baba always understands because she wants the best for you! She’ll never deny you that. Why are you so enamored with that professor that you can’t see through everyone else?”

“You’re overstepping a line here.”

“Why are you trying so hard to please him to the point that you’d risk Baba’s life for his work?”

“His work is my work too.”

“Exactly, Momo. You’re just a piece of his work. You’re a pawn that he liked to play around. He never compensated you nor credited you. I’ve read all of his articles and not one mentioned your name so don’t tell me that you’re busy working for your dreams when you’re wasting your time with him and killing off people you love.”

A resounding slap echoed in the hospital hallway. Tears were flowing from Momo’s eyes, and it pained him that he was the cause.

“Dr. Aizen is a respectable man, and I will not allow you to slander him further. You are just a peasant, an orphan we took from the street out of pity, and now you want to act like you have our best interests at heart when you entered the academy but in actuality, it was for your own selfish desire. You want to lecture me about hard work? I may always be his assistant, but you, with all your Soul perks and hierarchy, will never be on the same level as him. You’ll come far and achieve much more, but at the end of the day, you’ll always be a peasant. So get out of my sight and never come back until you become like him.”

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

The next day, the supervisors and senior faculty represented by Byakuya and Unohana entered Aizen’s class. Trailing behind them in close distance was Urahara Kisuke, a renowned ecologist in Karakura who went on a sabbatical leave ten years ago.

“What an A-team. What do you need, madame and sirs?” Aizen cheerfully asked.

“Aizen Sousuke and Hinamori Momo, please follow us to the academy tribunal. You are wanted for plagiarism, fraud, and embezzlement.”

NEXT CHAPTER | 7 OF 12 | JUDGMENT NEEDED, NOT JUDGMENT DESERVED

#hitsuhina #hitsugaya toshiro #hinamori momo #hitsugaya #hinamori #momo #bleach #bleach couples #anime #anime fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #aizen #aizen sousuke #matsumoto rangiku #kuchiki rukia #abarai renji

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mezzmerizedbyrichard · 3 months

Text

Ricky Deeming ~ George Gently: Gently Go Man (2007)

#richard armitage #ricky deeming #george gently #clearing out my RA folder

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Dark Fox (2/7)

Wow twice in a day, I’m on fire uh. So this one is quite short, but I had to lay the ground for what’s to come. Also we get to know our character’s relations a bit better so yeah. Enjoy!

Previous - Next

Pairing: Jason Todd x League!Reader

Word count: 2559

Warnings: same as last one

You always sat up straight.

With your legs folded under you and your back in a perfect line, you tended to the small fire and the teapot over it. Jason was observing you, his ever present scowl still judging you. He sat with his legs crossed in front of him, slouching. You had decided you wouldn't waste time in correcting his posture, because you doubted he would ever apply this in his lifetime.

With a cloth, you removed the teapot from the heat and carefully poured it in the two cups in front of you. It had been hard to even get him to the tea part, only when fall had gotten colder he had begrudgingly agreed to drink the hot beverage with you. He was still shaking from being in the rain so long without any form of waterproof suit. You handed him his cup, catching the very subtle thank you nod sent in your direction.

You didn't comment on it, although you were surprised he even did thank you. Gratitude wasn't part of Jason's range of emotion, not since he got out of the pit anyway. You sipped your tea in silence, with only the sound of the rain crashing down on the trees around you. That until…

"How old are you?"

You raised an eyebrow at the question, both surprised by the fact that he talked to you and the content itself of the question.

"Age is just a milestone of the physical body. It does not matter" You answered and he frowned in frustration. You sighed, figuring out you could entertain this one question, if it could make him less disagreeable.

"But if you must know, I was born twenty one years ago"

His eyes widened, then annoyance settled in.

"So they sent a kid to teach me?" He scoffed. "You're barely older than me"

"Yet I've been training with the league for 13 years" You replied sternly. You did not like the challenge. "Age is meaningless. Experience makes what you are"

Jason did not expect that. If you had been training with the league for 13 years… It meant you had begun at 8. His scowl disappeared for an instant as he realized he could respect your experience. But nothing more.

You thought he was done with the question, but apparently that first opened the door. His curiosity about you had been stirred, as he didn't understand how an eight years old ended up in the league. He had had this idea that people seeking the league were trying to run from a problem, and by putting the mask on, they asked Ra's Al Ghul to make it disappear in exchange of their lives and soul. They were cowards, in his eyes. But an eight years old didn't have that kind of problem yet. But he wouldn't ask that straight away, because he couldn't gauge your reaction to the question. He could gauge anything about you.

"Did the league teach you survival skills?" He asked instead, pointing at the hut. You had built the shelter, you took care of the fire, you hunted for food and prepared it. Jason wasn't helpless either, but he wouldn't have been able to do it that efficiently.

"No" You replied simply. "I had to teach myself. The League merely released us in different environments, sometimes for months, and we had to find a way to survive"

Arabian desert, russian tundra in winter, chinese forests in rainy season, you had done it all.

"And what if you couldn't?" He asked the question he already knew the answer to.

"You died" You shrugged as you poured the rest of the tea equally in both cups. "Many did, actually. The League seeks the strongest amongst us. This exercise had the double purpose of giving us useful skills and weed out the weak"

"That's fucked up"

You didn't answer that. You only watched as he drank the rest of his tea and retired to the rope hammock suspended a few feet further. You didn't go to sleep right away, staying by the fire and staring at the weak flames, thinking.

----

You had to give it to Talia, she knew how to pick her meeting spots. The museum was grandiose, and conveniently, closed for private business; that business being yours and Talia’s. But then again, it was an unnecessary luxury. You nodded at the guard that opened the door for you and made your way inside, your footsteps echoing on the marble floor. You were more than aware of the league members hidden in the corners, moving out of your vision field as you walked forward. Talia was probably already made aware of your arrival, which is why you didn’t bother announcing your presence when you finally found her in front of painting. She was looking at the huge frame when you halted beside her.

“I heard what happened yesterday”

You glanced at her. Her eyes were still on the picture in front of her.

“Everything’s been taken care of” You said, dodging the implication of her words. “The order was fulfilled despite the interruption”

She remained silent, her breath even. She looked down, then up at the painting again, then at you. “I’m not talking about my father’s task for you”

She would know, obviously. She knew you inside out, and she knew Jason as well. She was aware of your dynamic, how you worked. It didn’t come as a surprise that somehow she found out of his second visit to you. Now it was a matter of time before she asked the question.

“Did he ask you again?”

There it was.

“Yes” You nodded, casting your glance forward. “I told him I couldn’t”

You felt her stare turn sad. Talia loved you like a younger sister, one that she chose and that she could love. She was a teenager when you had been taken in by the League, and instantly she had known she would protect you. She understood why you refused Jason again, because you were as attached as her as she was to you. But there was something in between her two protégés that she couldn’t ignore either, a bond forged with time and patience and shared pain that resulted in a devotion to the other she had rarely seen. But you were holding back, and she knew all too well why.

She reached in her bag and handed you a folder, which you took carefully.

“This is what I could find about the project from my contacts” She explained. “I can’t do more I’m afraid, the League cannot be found to be involved”

You opened the folder to see photographs and files of people; lab techs and businessmen alike. Job descriptions, previous experiences, ties to each other. And finally, at the bottom, a blueprint of a LexCorps prototype, a small biotech machine you doubted would be used for good reasons. But nevertheless, it finally gave traction to your chase. You could work with that, you only needed to track it to…

“Gotham” You muttered as you read where the prototype was stored.

“You’ll need help for this” She added, and you knew who she was referencing to, specifically. You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m serious, you can’t do this alone. He has enough resources to help you, and he will. You know he will”

“Yeah” You agreed, your voice suddenly distant. You had never thought you’d have to involve Jason in your quest, he had enough on his shoulders. But at the same time, who else could you ever trust with it?

“But?” She could always call out your reluctance.

“But I’m afraid that if I go…” You trailed off, meeting her eyes once again. “I won’t want to come back”

She smiled warmly at you. You were afraid to break your loyalty to her, to let her down. You were afraid of what you would find there.

“Then if the path you take leads you away, it will be what’s meant to be” She reassured with a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it if it comes to that”

You returned her smile. “Thank you, Talia” You bowed you head slightly. “For everything”

With that, you turned around and left. Talia returned to her observation of the painting, sighing.

------

The clearing was still. There was no wind, no cloud, no wildlife running around. Only the sound of metal clashing under the first ray of sun of the day, and the grunts of effort coming from Jason. He was focused, more than usual. You had more trouble catching him off guard and forcing him on the defensive, or even finding an opening to sweep his feet. You saw he was struggling to restrain his anger, which was honestly an improvement. It wasn’t perfect, he had still a lot to learn about controlling the inhumane force he had been given. But it wasn’t pathetic, and you wondered what made him change idea about your methods.

You had also stopped wearing your mask when you trained, in an attempt to make an effort to meet him in the middle. It had always bothered him, angered him even more. Ra’s never let him men remove their mask when you began training, saying it would make the whole thing personal if they did. Attachment was never good as a member of the League, but you weren’t there right now. He wasn’t training for Ra’s, but to control himself. And you understood soon enough he’d never let you teach him if you kept fueling his anger for nothing.

But he was getting frustrated again at your strategy. You went from occasionally attacking to a passive defense, knowing it would rile him up. You still knew how to push his buttons, and you would do it all over again until the day he understood. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his nostrils flared up as he picked up the pace.

It wasn’t the day.

In his haste to beat you, his restraint evaporated, leaving his movements once again sloppy and uncalculated. It wasn’t hard to knock the sword out of his hand, sending it flying backward. But he didn’t stop, he only grabbed yours by the blade and threw it aside as well. Before you knew it, his fist collided with your cheek. You blinked as your body registered the pain, wiping the wetness dripping down your nose. It was bright red on your glove. Your eyes trailed up his tense form to settle on his face, then his eyes. Your fingers flexed in restraint against engaging in close combat with him, even though you wished nothing more than to beat his attitude down. But you wouldn’t win this one. So you waited for the explosion that would come, and come it did.

In a flash, you jumped back to avoid his hook punch, then his uppercut. You rolled to avoid his kick, but you didn’t see his hand coming up to grab your throat and slam you back into a tree trunk. His hand was tight on your throat, but his rage blinded him to the knife you drew out from your belt. In a quick motion, you slashed his forearm. He retracted it, and released your throat at the same time. You jumped out of the way and stopped out of his range in a guarded position. You saw the defiance in his eyes, as well as the satisfaction.

“Next time you pull that shit, the blade goes through” You warned, sheathing your blade in your belt once again.

“Are you angry?” He taunted, and you realized what he was doing. You were pissed and he knew it. Well, he’d get what he ask for.

You crouched and picked both swords that had been discarded, then threw one at him. “I showed you what restraint looked like. Lesson over” You wiped the blood from your face once again, carefully watching his reaction. “Now you get to learn what’s channeled anger”

Whatever he expected, it hadn’t prepared him for the beating he was about to receive.

------

Jason didn’t need Batman.

Or Dick, or anyone for that matter. His ego had won the best of him when Bruce admitted he needed his help on the sting operation he was building, so he agreed. Of course, that meant his adoptive father would have to respect his terms, since he asked for him first. But the matter was so important, such a priority to neutralize that it didn’t matter to the Bat. Red Hood could go awol when the time came, as long as he didn’t make an attention attractive mess before they could get to the final phase of their master plan. It didn’t please Bruce that was for sure, but they were already short handed and it was a miracle Jason even agreed to work again with his adoptive family.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that he would get back into his old habits and gleefully jump from rooftop to rooftop like a happy family. He was still hell bent on working solo, and no truce would come mess that up. So that’s how he ended up all alone with his own ego on a recon mission to LexCorps. A partner would have only been in his way, slowing him down and pissing him off. He had his own way of doing things and he liked it like that.

But Jason being Jason, he often acted before thinking, which never paired well in delicate operations like this one. He was getting intel on a project lead by one of the most paranoid control freak with a knack for sparing no expenses to make sure punks like him didn’t get their hands on his stuff.

But he was proud of himself this time. He had sneaked in like a master spy and bypassed all the security like a goddamn pro to get to the lab. Although, he hadn’t expected it to find it very much occupied by more than forty lab techs and a shit ton of armed guards. There was supposed to be no one but the regular night shift and this one harmless tech, said the intel.

Well, the intel was dead wrong apparently.

He crouched, still in the shadows of the second floor. He watched through the rail the buzzing of the staff around what he recognized to be the very thing the whole operation was put in place to stop. He noticed with half frustration and half horror that it seemed very functional, again, to contradict the documents that said it was still in developing phase. Which meant, he and his jolly bunch of vigilante were on the clock.

“Fuck” He muttered to himself. “Fuck fuck fuck--”

He felt the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of his neck, interrupting his string of curse.

“Don’t move”

He could take him, he knew. He would just have to be quicker and… Ah, fuck. A spotlight was pointed his way, quite literally, as everyone in the lab turned toward him with gasps. Shortly after, three red dots appeared on his chest, and he had no idea where they came from.

Because he was fucking blinded.

And surrounded apparently, as he heard boots running toward him.

“We got him, boss”

Great. Just great.

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catrasredemption-moved · 4 years

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Hi! I just caught up with your Magicatra AU and I'm loving it, I have some worldbuilding questions re: Adora. Is there a reason why Adora wasn't also affected by the murderbot infection when she infected the sword? I thought being a First One meant it automatically affected her, or must she be in direct contact with the Sword if she were also affected? Also, I like that it's not really well known what magicats are and their heritage is intertwined with the Eternians. pt1

cont'd pt.2 i love Catra trying to figure things out, and keep being shady Eternian infected (I assume) Light Hope! It's intriguing now that Adora has clear proof about Shadow Weaver being abusive to Catra, there is a coldness & distance to how she treats SW. And it's that dark coldness that Catra is seeing seep in, which is something I always attributed to Adora's Eternian side. i.e. the brief flashes of coldness when she transforms into She Ra the first time.

Adora’s not a First One. She gets to be Regular Girl With All the Magic Around Her. Someone in the comments did float an idea about the sword needing one person (i.e. Adora) and the mask needing another (i.e. Catra), and both having to work together to utilize the full power, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t tinker with the idea as a separate story (it lives in my eternally WIP folder), but as far as the Magicatra AU goes, Adora was born and raised in the Fright Zone, no First One blood in her.

Shadow Weaver just played favorites with the girls because a) she liked that Adora was more obedient and b) it fucked with Catra when she saw Adora being favored. Basically, Shadow Weaver is The Worst

#fic: this is my kingdom come #isagrimorie #Sam Answers

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years

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Reader x Jihyun Kim {MysMes} - Letters to Heal a Broken Heart

Title: Letters to Heal a Broken Heart Fandom: Mystic Messenger Character: Jihyun Kim Genre: bittersweet? romance Warnings: spoilers for his good ending! Intended Gender Audience: Neutral Audience Word Count: 2040 words POV: second person Other comments: no smut but im proud of this! please note that everything with the push back is a letter! i think its pretty clear, but i wanted to make sure it’s understood <3 Written by: @mythiica Req:

Dear –

I’ll admit, it feels a bit strange writing a letter for you, but my therapist recommended it. He told me to explain my emotions with words, saying it would help me become more confident.

See, the reasoning behind it, at least from what I remember, is that there is no pressure to think quickly. Writing allows a flow, a sense of movement between the words before you pick which one you wish to use. Talking is different because it follows a completely contrasting rhythm. To keep a conversation going, you have to speak rather quickly so the person stays engaged in the topic.

It’s all really interesting, and my therapist has given me a book over the fundamentals of other practices like this. I read half of it on the plane to Japan.

To clarify, I’m writing this from my hotel room in Tokyo. I landed a few hours ago and the jet lag has yet to hit me, so I decided to take advantage of this time to write.

I think you’d like it here – the sakura are in full bloom and I have three days dedicated to photographing the sea of pinks as they ripple in the wind. Until now, I’ve only seen pictures of the famous parks, and I never thought that I would be able to witness them in person.

I didn’t think I’d

I never conside

Ah, I should mention, I’m not allowed to erase or cross out sentences I start. Another confidence booster? It’s a bit sillier, but it’s meant to force me to say what is on my mind, rather than letting it fester. I’ll try again:

During my years under Mint Eye, my vision was narrowed, and I had only one duty. However, I am learning to broaden my horizons and expand my mind to encompass everything. The urge to explore bubbles in my chest, waiting for the moment to come out. There are so many chances to do anything, and I’ve got all the time to do all of it.

I’ve also realized that I went over my word limit. I have to stick to 300 words or under. Confidence booster #3! Express yourself with less words. Take a guess of how many times I’ve opened the thesaurus, looking for better synonyms for words? At least seven times in the past five minutes. It’s crazy!

For now, I’ll sign this off and try better next time.

よりご多幸を祈って

Jihyun Kim

PS, I’m practicing my Japanese! That says best wishes… I think.

नमस्कार

Hello and greetings from India! I took a long nap on the plane, and forgot to write. Although I’m only passing through, I ate some delicious food (that I should really try to replicate for you). India is absolutely beautiful – from the sunrises to the bustling markets to the colorful fabrics hung at every corner. I’ll inhale the air and smell six things at once, albeit, not all of them are the best, but I embrace it nonetheless.

More about what I’ve been doing: funnily enough, my phone died on the bus ride, but I made a new friend named Sunmi, and she was kind enough to lend me her charging cable. Instead of ending the interaction there, we spoke for a few hours at least. I learned she was traveling with her friends on a photography excursion. She gave me all the information, and I’d like to look into it when I have wifi again.

You wouldn’t believe what they’ve seen! Last year they went to Antarctica through South America. She got to pet a penguin! Apparently the company also takes people to Greenland and New Zealand – some places I’ve been dreaming of visiting since I was a young boy.

I’ll use my last 100 words to mention that… I’ve gotten a bit homesick. I miss the RFA – well, the people from the RFA minus…

Don’t tell Jumin about the company though, he’ll insist on flying me around with his private jet. I want to experience for myself. Saeyoung is somehow messaging me when I don’t have service? I don’t… understand. Anyways, I also saw Zen landed a huge international role (someone had a magazine on the plane). Otherwise, I hope Jaehee and Yoosung are well. And Elizabeth the 3rd of course. Send them my wishes.

I didn’t forget about you though! The keychain you gave me reminds me of home every day. It might have lost an eye, but I found a button and stitched it on. And I also wanted to ask you–

Ah, I’m over again.

Next time.

Jihyun Kim

Iyi günler! I am in Turkey now and actually writing this on a boat. The sun is setting over the horizon, making the sky change colors with every passing minute. It’s breathtaking, but I wish you were here with me. The other passengers and I take turns standing at the front of the boat, and I sometimes linger, trying to take pictures.

Good news! My vision is getting better. I’ve been taking some Greek herbal remedies, and the seem to be helping. Either that, or they have a wonderful placebo effect. Has that ever happened to you? To think something is working, but you’re just imagining things?

I apologize, maybe that stirred bad memories for you.

Back to Turkey: I stepped out of my comfort zone and spent a night camping. Honestly? I was terrified of doing so, but now I want to do it every night. It is the perfect temperature for hiking, even though I am a bit sunburned.

So many people have been commenting on my hair. Good things mostly, and I started styling it with a bit of gel to keep it out of my eyes. It feels good to look people directly rather than through a curtain.

What are you up to? Hosting anymore parties? I imagine that you are keeping busy, as always of course. My therapist said it would be best to wait messaging you until I return home. I nearly called you a week ago, but I didn’t want to break my vow. It’s like lying to myself, and I know better than that now.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.

Sending love,

I’m genuinely angry, but writing to you always calms me. Someone stole my bag – I luckily didn’t have much in it, but your keychain… can you make me a new one please? Now that I don’t have it, it’s almost like I’ve lost a part of you. It hurts a lot, but then I wonder if I am being silly. It’s just a keychain.

Otherwise, France is nice. I didn’t want to go to Paris, so instead I traveled through the countryside to visit a few wineries.

Yes, I did… drink a bit, but I wasn’t impaired when my bag was stolen!

You would laugh at me if I told you what happened, so I will save the story for another time. Before coming to France, I went through Germany and visited some of the most beautiful castles I’ve ever seen. They all looked like they could be straight from a fantasy movie set, and I was convinced one – Neuschwanstein Castle – actually was.

I’ve barely written anything despite so much happening.

I got a haircut (finally), because it was becoming a hassle to tie it back at night.

One evening, I fed some stray cats and they followed me home.

And a drunk (?) tried to play cards with me. But he didn’t have cards. He was dealing an imaginary deck.

Other stories will have to wait until I see you again, and I feel better now. It’s okay to be upset, but it won’t hinder my trip any more.

Je t'aime,

Jihyun

Alaska doesn’t have a night.

That’s not exactly true, but it’s basically true. The hotel has special curtains that block the light, and it is only dark for a few hours.

It has been many miles since I last wrote, but I was caught up in visiting show after event after party after exhibit through America. Their art has given me a new perspective on point of view and emotions, so I hope that the ten camera chips I’ve filled with photographs will be able to convey the same sense of awe.

I’ve also been mistaken for an idol? Like – multiple times. Interesting to say the least, maybe I’ll say yes to the next person that asks. What should my stage name be? I’ll spare you the embarrassment and not share my ideas. They are all very silly and no one would believe me if I told them my name was Cam Ra. Do you get it? It’s bad, I know.

I’ll be returning home soon, unless I get distracted or impulsive and go down to California and Hawaii before coming back. I want to – it doesn’t feel right to return just yet. But that doesn’t mean anything about you!

Really, I think about you and everyone else each day.

Have you met new people? We’ll exchange so many stories…

See you soon,

J K

You pace around, waiting for the last guest on the list to appear. The party started an hour ago, but he still has not arrived. Then again, it has been three months since anyone heard a whisper from V, and you start to lose hope. Swallowing hard, you remind yourself that V is having a wonderful time exploring the world and finding himself.

Taking a handful of your dress, you turn and head through the doors to the main room. Jumin tries to pull Saeyoung away from Longcat, Yoosung explains his most recent surgeries to a group of nurses from his work place, and Jaehee receives many compliments for her majestic cake.

Everyone is happy and has moved on.

You hope V has too.

Maybe all the wishing and praying finally paid off, because you hear his familiar voice calling out behind you. It’s a long shot, but you turn around nonetheless, thinking it is a different guest.

Instead, you see Jihyun, wearing the most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, running towards you. He’s carrying a folder filled with papers, but that doesn’t stop him from embracing you. He smells rugged, like his voyage has transformed him, but you rather like it.

“Jihyun!” You melt against his hug. “You’re.. Here… you’re here!”

Your squealing draws everyone’s attention, but he focuses on you and only you. “Of course I’m here. I missed you more than I can verbalize.”

His stance is open, welcoming, and confident, much different from two years ago. He is a different person now, brave and proud. Jihyun offers you the folder. It is strange to gift something in the middle of a party, but you accept it anyways, happy he has returned.

Jihyun’s heart races as he explains. “I wrote you letters every time I went somewhere new. These are just a few of them, really I have so many. But each shows something I’ve learned.” He takes a breath and laces his fingers with yours. “This is sudden, and I’m sure you will need time to think about it, but I’m trying something new: asking without being afraid. Over the past two years, I’ve… longed for you. Art has shown me the power of friendship, joy, perseverance, and most importantly, dedication. I want to dedicate my art to you, if you’ll stand by my side.”

You can’t find the words to express yourself because you are so awestruck. He truly has changed, but he has embraced himself and his life. Tears start to roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming surge of emotions. Jihyun brushes them away and presses his forehead to yours.

“I still have much to learn, but I want to do it all with you.”

“I’d like that a lot, Jihyun,” you whisper, captivated by his intense gaze.

“And I can finally say this without fear–”

You tip your head up, and Jihyun kisses you the next moment. His lips are chapped and the warmth radiating from his skin envelops you. He doesn’t need words to communicate it, because you understand perfectly what he is trying to say.

#mysmes #mystic messenger #mysmes v #mysmes jihyun #jihyun kim

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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Bird in a Storm 12/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Tommy Merlyn, Athena, Joanna de la Vega, Roy Harper Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Athena was accustomed to deferring to those less skilled or worthy than her. The current Heir to the Demon was only one such example and was, in part, why she was here.

Simply put, the League was stagnating before her very eyes. She couldn’t say when it had begun. Perhaps shortly after she had joined the League when the schism between Ra’s and his eldest daughter had occurred. Or perhaps not until much later, when a girl had laughed in his face at a display of his power and he had not relieved her shoulders of her head but instead allowed her room, board, training and even his Heir’s body for her own pleasure.

Athena believed in her heart, however, that Ra’s decline had begun between those two points, with the departure of Al Sa-Her.

Never had she met a warrior so single-minded in his goal, yet all the more deadly for it. The lost man who had stumbled upon their secrets molded himself into a weapon and leader, rising through the ranks with greater speed than any before him.

But Ra’s had let his Horseman go, and had never truly recovered the loss. His leniency towards Nyssa’s dalliance with the disloyal girl in their ranks, his over-reliance on the Pit keeping him confined to Nanda Parbat more and more. Despite all appearances, he was an old man dragging them all to the end with him.

Athena had had no plans to strike against him, not until she had overheard the news on a mission to the Americas about the man the rest of the world called Malcolm Merlyn.

That such a man should fall to a poorly carried out stunt such as the news described was unconscionable to her. She could only assume he had been forced to act in a manner to protect his son, the man who now stood before her. The man she needed in order to achieve the plan that had begun forming in her head.

“Athena,” Thomas Merlyn echoed. “Is that your real name?”

“It is the only name I answer to. And before you check, you will not find me in any sort of search you might conduct on your devices.”

He grimaced but carried on. “How did my father meet someone like you?”

“His oaths would have kept him from sharing too many details of his time away, but we were part of the same League once. I served first as one of his trainers, then as a comrade-in-arms when he surpassed even me.”

“Comrade… in arms,” he repeated once again. She hoped he wasn’t truly this dim. “So you’re saying my father left me after my mom died to go train in some secret Fight Club?”

“He was preparing himself to enact justice upon the ones who took her from this world. From the intelligence I have gathered, he was very near his goal before the Triad’s contracted assassin mortally wounded him.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his father’s current state. “You said you can heal him. How? You don’t exactly look like a nurse.”

Athena withdrew a vial from her pocket. A vial she had taken great care in filling with a priceless elixir. “The contents of this vial will revive him. Slowly, I am afraid, but I could not secure more and remain undetected. You will need to introduce it into his system. I recommend the IVs replacing his fluids.”

Thomas’ eyes reflected a hunger as he reached out, but his arm paused midway. “How do I know you’re not lying? That this isn’t just more poison?”

Well, he wasn’t a naive idiot, at the least. “I am risking everything by changing my allegiance to your father and his kin. Should the man we both trained under discover my actions, I will be forcibly returned and executed for my disloyalty.” Thomas blanched, but she paid no heed. “Nevertheless, I believe in the cause Al Sa-Her was working towards. The evil of Starling City is too great, and must be eliminated. Surely you see that your city is slowly choking on the waste that wells up from the bottom?”

The look in his eyes hardened, and he took the vial. “How long will this take?”

“It is unclear. But in the meantime, you must lead in your father’s stead. There are others he would have recruited to his cause. We must find them out and see just where their loyalties now lie in his extended absence.”

“Wait, are you trying to say you can find out who set up the hit?”

“Of course I can.” She knew he had little reason to trust her abilities as of yet, but he would learn. And if he learned each piece in just the right order, she felt certain she could craft The Magician an Heir more loyal than Ra’s could dream of, if less adept with a weapon. But that, too, could be taught.

Athena retrieved a phone from her pocket that she slid across the desk towards him. “My number is the only contact programmed in. Attend to your father, then call me when you are ready to take up his work.”

While his gaze remained distracted by the phone, Athena slipped away as quickly and quietly as she had come, disturbing no one. Her next steps were already clear in her mind; discover the source of the contract on The Magician’s life, determine the timeline of his recovery and the completion of his plans and deliver his son to him as a dedicated disciple. All of this she was confident she could achieve.

Thomas Merlyn was less skilled and worthy than she, yes. But he held that same cold determination, that drive of his father’s. And history showed that could be molded.

---

Joanna sighed as she settled back in behind her old desk. It was earlier than her mom might have liked, but she was officially back to work.

She stared across at the empty space where her friend’s things used to be. No more Sara in her graduation cap, no more white board of targets. Laurel was well and truly gone from CNRI.

Well, not totally gone. Her protege approached Joanna scarcely after she’d sat down.

“Hey, Thea.”

“Hey. I’m so glad you’re back.” The younger girl hugged her. “How are you?”

“You know, pulling through. I guess you have experience with that.”

Thea nodded. “Yeah, well just don’t do what I did and you should be fine.”

Joanna laughed. “Alright, what have we got today? Think I read something about a deposition being filed?”

“Mm-hm.” In her work clothes and with a folder in her hand, Thea Queen looked truly different from the party girl she’d been only a few months ago. “It’s against Edward Rasmus. He stole the family’s savings, and they’re looking for restitution to help them get back on track. They lost everything in their son’s college fund because of this piece of crap.”

Okay, maybe Thea wasn’t totally different.

“Well, hopefully we can get it all back. Let me see the file so I have the details before they come in today.”

She was able to read up on the Moore’s file as well as a couple others before the family arrived. The couple had even brought their young son with them, who was adorable as he was shy. Joanna talked them through the deposition process and promised to have it submitted before the day was out.

It was the last time she spoke to either of the parents.

Joanna woke up early to a call from the police informing her that her clients had been killed in a home invasion gone wrong. Taylor had miraculously managed to escape the carnage out a window, so now she found herself playing social worker instead of lawyer as they tried to figure out where he would go in the immediate aftermath.

Eventually, they decided on a temporary placement with social services until his grandparents could return to the States. It still broke Joanna’s heart a little to watch Taylor being led away by the hand, and she resolved to check in on him at least once a day until all of this was over. Though she’d need to be careful about how to do it; she didn’t want a repeat attack. The timing of that ‘home invasion’ was a little too convenient for her liking.

She was glad to get a text from Laurel that day asking if she wanted to meet up. It really had been forever since her friend had bothered to reach out and that stung, but Joanna wasn’t going to turn her away when she actually did try.

It was still strange seeing her with shorter hair, Joanna reflected as she grabbed the barstool next to Laurel’s at the old place they’d gone to once or twice after work in the old days. “Hey.”

“Hey. My dad called and said you’d been at the station,” Laurel admitted. “I thought you could use a drink. I’m buying.”

“No, you shouldn’t—”

“I’m okay,” her friend insisted. “I’m just really sorry to hear what happened to your clients.”

Joanna blew out a breath. “So am I.” The whole thing stunk of the crap Thea had mentioned yesterday, but of course that was only a feeling she had. And she wasn’t about to bring that up with Laurel when her asking her to get the Hood’s help on Danny’s murder was what had led to her friend’s fall from grace to begin with.

Yet apparently she didn’t have to. “It was Rasmus,” Laurel said with conviction as their glasses were set down.

She nodded even as she said, “There’s no proof. And now there’s no case. I mean, the kid’s only six.”

“Where’s their son now?”

Joanna looked down. “Social services took him.”

Laurel turned on the barstool to face her. “He’s in the system? After just losing his parents?”

“It’s only for a little while. They’re having trouble getting in touch with his grandparents because they’re out of the country.”

“But the killer Rasmus hired is still out there, Jo,” Laurel argued. “He could get the information on where Taylor is.”

“I’m hoping he was only interested in stopping Mr. and Mrs. Moore. I mean, what else could I do, Laurel?” Joanna asked. “I’m still staying with my mom, and I couldn’t bring Taylor in there and put her at risk like that after everything. I talked to your dad specifically and had him put two squad cars outside.”

Laurel looked down. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to do what’s best for everybody, I just…”

“I’m worried, too. I’m going to make regular check-ins over the phone in case someone’s got their eyes on me, too.”

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility,” her friend agreed. They both sipped at their drinks for a while, neither in the mood for idle chitchat. So much for catching up.

Joanna left her things with Laurel while she went to the bathroom before they headed out. As she approached the bar, she noticed Laurel was hunched over her phone, though she straightened up as soon as Joanna got close.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Listen, we should do this some other time when work isn’t so depressing, you know?” Joanna said.

Laurel nodded. “Definitely. Maybe next week or so? I’ve got some busy nights coming up.”

“How late is that shop open?”

“I’ve picked up a couple things. Just helps to keep myself occupied.” She went in for a hug, and Joanna couldn’t help noticing how solid Laurel felt. Not that her friend had ever been all that fragile before, but there was something different to her stance, to the security she seemed to give off just through a hug. Joanna gave her head a shake as she backed off.

“Everything okay?” Laurel asked.

“Yeah. Guess I’m just thinking about how so much has changed… you’re taking care of yourself, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you.”

Joanna went home and ate dinner with her mother before they both kicked back to watch some TV. Nothing was really catching their interest, so her mother started channel-surfing. A picture on the screen caught her eye, and Joanna sat straight up.

“Go back, go back!”

“What, to the news?” Her mother hit a couple buttons and Green, the nightly anchor, came back on.

“—Rasmus allegedly confessed to police after they responded to reports of the Hood being spotted at the businessman’s penthouse. The hired gunman who killed Eric and Nancy Moore remains at large, and police advise all in the Glades neighborhood to exercise caution.”

“That’s the case you were working on?” Her mother asked. When Joanna nodded, her mom said, “Well, I hope you didn’t call him. Bad enough he got Laurel in trouble, I don’t need him sidling up to you.”

“It wasn’t me, mom,” Joanna assured her. But she was pretty sure she knew who it was, and she had to shake her head again. Laurel was never one to sit idle, was she?

With Rasmus in custody, Joanna decided to head to an early bed. No benefactor meant no additional hit, no additional hit meant no hitman.

Taylor would have to be safe now, right?

---

Mr. Blank had a job to finish. It hardly mattered that the target was a little boy. He had seen his face. That meant he couldn’t remain alive. It was nothing personal.

He’d already taken care of his former employer through posing as the man’s lawyer to gain access. Only one loose thread left, and he would be free to continue his business unhindered.

It had been a simple matter to get the information on young Taylor Moore’s current housing situation. He had simply called in pretending to be a representative of the boy’s grandparents seeking to confirm the child’s location for pickup. Sneaking a peek at the casefile number for Taylor had been another goal of his at the police precinct, and it aided his ruse.

A group home in the Glades was the boy’s temporary residence, and it would now be his final one. Mr. Blank parked his car on the next street over from the building, then walked along the sidewalk sure to keep his back to any and all CCTV cameras. There weren’t many in this neighborhood. Even better, he had overheard at the station that two officers that had been stationed outside had been recalled only last night thanks to Rasmus’ capture. That left him free and clear to take care of matters.

As he drew up to the steps of the building, he noticed a young woman sitting with her back against the wall of the home, head bent and blonde locks hanging in her face. A potential witness. How irritating.

Mr. Blank sighed and reached for the gun in his trench coat pocket. In the same instance, she stood up in one fluid motion and looked him right in the eye, revealing her own face was hidden partially behind a mask. Interesting.

“Somehow I had a feeling someone like you would show up.”

“I assure you, there’s no one else like me,” he told her. “But I would have expected the Hood after his intervention with Rasmus.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Her fists were balled and she had no weapons. This would be easy.

Yet as he retrieved his gun, she lunged, one hand closing around his wrist and twisting hard. Mr. Blank hissed and pulled back, the gun clattering to the ground. She kicked it further to the side and moved in closer. So it was to be a brawl.

He feinted to her left and was just barely blocked by her arm when he tried to strike her right. He grabbed her arm and yanked it to force her forward, ramming a knee into her gut.

She wheezed but barreled forward to take him with her, crashing him into the wall outside the home. Mr. Blank tasted blood when he bit down. He just barely got his guard up when she went for a punch to his face. He twisted her arm behind her back and relished the cry that left her as he closed in, the fingers of his other hand reaching for her mask.

“You’ve seen my face. Don’t you think it’s only fair I see yours?”

Her head jerked back, colliding with his chin. His grip reflexively loosened, and she spun out of his hold.

What she lacked in finesse, she made up for in sheer enthusiasm. This was a brawler, and she lived for the fight just as much as he did. He thrilled at the blood pounding in his ears, the pain in his jaw.

They both eyed the gun lying a few feet away. He dove for it. She dove for him.

Mr. Blank’s fingers grappled for purchase on the weapon as her weight fell upon him. He turned and was met with two hands forcing his arm away, just as he squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

---

He was walking home from another shift at the club when he heard a noise not altogether uncommon in the Glades: a person’s pained and heavy breathing. In the past, he might have kept on walking. But ever since his life had been saved by the Hood, he’d been trying to find some reason for it to have happened. Some reason he’d been worth it.

So Roy cautiously approached the alley he could hear the sound coming from. In the dark, all he could make out was the disheveled blonde hair of a woman leaning against the wall as she slowly staggered forward. Her head was down. She had to be focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey. Hey, lady,” he said, coming forward. She hissed and drew back, but as she did her hair sort of shifted, revealing it to be a wig. And he thought he recognized the real hair underneath, short as it now was.

“Laurel?”

“Roy?”

He shook his head. “You’re the Woman. Should have known it was you.” She’d roughed him up well enough just for stealing Thea’s purse.

“Well, I’d congratulate you on your detective work, but this one was kind of handed to you,” she said, strain in her voice. She was limping pretty bad, too.

“Hey, what happened to you?”

“Got shot. Just a graze, but it hurts more than you’d think.”

“Don’t have to guess,” he said. Roy came around to stand at her side and pulled her arm over his shoulder. “Here, give me the wig.” He stuffed that in the pocket of his hoodie. Hopefully, they didn’t come across any cop cars or someone who looked at them too closely. “How far do we have to go?”

“Just a couple more blocks.”

They traveled it mostly in silence, not wanting to draw more attention to themselves than necessary. She had a place about the same size as his, though he thought her street had a slightly better reputation. Everything was relative.

“You got any disinfectant?”

“Cabinet above the bathroom sink.” She hobbled over to a little basket that turned out to hold sewing supplies. Well, at least she knew what was going to have to happen.

Roy returned from the bathroom to find her with one leg out of her leggings. He kept his gaze on the floor.

“You ever do this before?”

It took a beat where he thought she was nodding before she realized she needed to answer verbally. “Yeah. On my arm.”

“Okay. This’ll probably hurt a little more.”

She hissed when the disinfectant made contact with her skin and flinched badly at the first poke of the sewing needle. Not that he could totally judge her for that kind of aversion.

“You said a little.”

“My bad.”

Once he had finished closing up the wound, she grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch to throw over her lap which brought him some comfort. Roy sat back, watching her. “So when did this start?”

She shrugged. “A month or so back, officially. But it’s been coming.”

He thought he knew what she meant by that. The slow simmering of anger waiting to boil over into outrage at just how much everything here sucked. How unfair it was, how impossible it was for most people to escape.

“And the guy that shot you?”

Her head bowed for a moment. “He shot himself, in a way. I was trying to get the gun off him. It grazed me, but…”

She didn’t have to finish.

Roy shrugged. “Then he got what he deserved.”

“What he deserved was to be tried for his crimes,” Laurel maintained, though her shoulders slumped and she lost the haughty look. “But I can’t say I’m devastated he’s gone. It’ll keep Taylor safe, at least.”

“Who’s Taylor?”

“A kid. His parents were trying to sue a man called Rasmus for losing their savings, and he hired a hitman to take care of the problem. The hitman killed the Moores a couple of nights ago, then came back to try and finish the job.”

Roy’s fists clenched at the thought. What kind of sick person targeted a little boy for something he wasn’t really even a part of? “How’d you hear about all this? I mean, was it the Hood or…?”

She shook her head. “The Hood has his own operation going on. I’m just doing my part where I can.”

“But you know him, right?” Roy couldn’t quite keep the eagerness out of his voice. “Or you know how to get in touch. I’ve been looking for him since he saved my life.”

Laurel said nothing, only studied him.

“Do you know if, I don’t know, I could help him somehow? I know how to fight.”

“The Hood’s mission is a personal one. I’m not sure that he’d be willing to risk someone else getting hurt,” Laurel said, smirking as she added, “There’s a reason I’m on my own.”

Roy looked down. So she thought it would be a no.

“He has a team.”

The unexpected words caused Roy’s head to jerk up sharply.

“I could see if he’s in need of anyone else to provide support. That’s the best I can promise you.”

It was better than he’d had. “I could help you fight out there.”

Laurel considered him. “You have a lot of good instincts, but they’re not honed. It’s going to take some training for you to be able to do more damage to them than they do to you.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s a we’ll see. Find yourself a way to train first. I’d recommend a guy except I think he’d kill me for sending another vigilante to his doorstep,” she remarked with enough lightness in her tone to make him think she was probably joking. “But for now, you shouldn’t be out there looking for trouble.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, mom.”

Laurel shook her head. “I am not old enough or financially and materially stable enough to be a mother.”

“Yeah, neither were my parents,” said Roy. He thought he caught her smirking at that in spite of herself. “I guess I should let you sleep the pain off.”

“That would help. I’ve got work tomorrow.” She stood with a low groan, wrapping the blanket around her waist like a skirt. “That’s not gonna be a fun walk.”

“You ever think about getting a bike?” He asked. “It’d get you around faster at night. Be easier to avoid the cops.”

She frowned. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“I know a guy who sells them cheap. They don’t have all the parts, but we could fix them up probably. Or I could.” He shrugged. “Support stuff, right?”

When he chanced a glance up, Laurel was smiling at him. “That’s not a bad idea. Tell me when we can see your guy.”

Roy felt his hope reignite, and he nodded. “Yeah, could probably get us in by the end of the week. But, uh, I guess you need my number.” He grabbed a pen off her counter and scribbled it on a to-go menu. Laurel grabbed it up with her free hand, nodding to herself.

“Okay. I’ll message you so you have mine, and I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

“Daytime would be best. I’ve got this new job. A real one, at the Verdant.”

For some reason, she smirked at that. “Good for you. You should stick around there.”

“Okay.” Roy backed up towards the door. “I’ll see you. Uh, what do you go by?”

“Laurel?” She said skeptically.

He snorted. “I meant like your vigilante persona. Everybody’s got different names floating out there. The Woman, Lady in Black, Angel, stuff like that.”

“And some less flattering monikers, I’m sure.” Laurel looked off into some kind of middle distance. “I don’t know. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Maybe you should.” He shrugged one shoulder and headed out the door. Once it shut behind him, he couldn’t resist pumping his fist.

He was in with the vigilantes. Well, one of them at least. And he’d make sure Laurel felt he was indispensable so that she’d have to agree he made the cut. And then someday, she might even introduce him to the Hood, and he could repay the man who had saved his life and shown him this new path.

He was finally going to make a difference.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 years

Text

RA&L Chapter 18: Results and A Confession

Masterlist

"Della. . . Della. . . Adeline. . ."

I hummed when I heard someone mumble my name over and over. I jumped when I felt someone kiss my nose. I opened my eyes to see Dylan resting his chin on the side of my bed.

"What?" I mumbled, still sleepy. He laughed as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, making me smile. I sat up and ran my hands through my hair as Dylan sat next to me, wrapping his arm around me.

"How was your nap?" He asked teasingly.

"Not long enough," I mumbled as I leaned my head on his chest. We sat like that for a few minutes as Dylan gently rubbed my arm.

"Well, I might have some news that will perk you up." He said, breaking the silence. I hummed still a little sleepy.

"I won."

I sat up and looked at him like he was crazy. "You won what?" I asked, almost skeptically.

"The bet we made yesterday." He laughed when he saw the confusion on my face. "Remember? I bet you that your test results would come back strong and healthy. Then, if I won, I got to take you out on a real date away from this center."

My cheeks burned as he smiled at me. "Technically, I haven't gotten my results back yet," I teased. He sent me a knowing look before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to my nose.

"Either way," he sighed, pulling me back into his chest as he laid us against the headboard. "I'm taking you out on a real, out-of-this-center date. The kind I would've taken you on for our first date if we had met under different circumstances."

"If Eric lets us," I mumbled.

"He will." I could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"Oh yeah?" I teased. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I already asked him," he said simply. I playfully hit his chest causing him to laugh.

We spent the next couple of hours watching Netflix. In between episodes, there was a knock at the door. We looked over to see Eric peeking his head in.

"Hey you two," he smirked as he walked in. When he did, I saw a folder in his hands.

My results.

My eyes widened when I made that connection. He must have seen the look on my face as I sat up because he laughed.

"So?" Dylan asked, breaking my staring contest with the folder of results.

"Great news, Della," Eric started. "You're even better than we anticipated."

"Really?" I asked, my voice getting stuck in my throat and not because of my vocal cords. Eric smiled as he nodded. Happy tears started to build up as I felt Dylan tighten his arm around my waist.

"Your vocal cords are still scared, they always will be but they're healing. They'll always be a little damaged but the tests we ran yesterday have proven that you have about 85% of your usage back."

"85," I said under my breath. "Does that mean. . ."

The smile on his face fell when I didn't finish my question.

"Unfortunately," he cleared his throat, "the 15% you're missing is keeping you from being able to sing. I'm sorry, Della, but your vocal cords aren't strong enough for you to be able to sing and they may never be."

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment as Dylan and Eric shared a knowing look. I took a shaky breath, trying to look on the bright side.

"At least I'm better," I said, looking back up at them. I smiled, even though it didn't reach my eyes.

There was an awkward silence as we let the news sink in. I looked over when I saw the smile on Dylan's face.

"Hey Eric," he started. "If Della is 85%, does that mean I can take her out on a date away from the center. Alone?"

His question instantly made Eric smile. I looked between the matching, almost evil, smiles on their faces. "Why, yes. That does mean you can take her on a date away from the center. Alone."

"I'm not sure I want to be alone with either one of you right now," I said slowly, causing them to laugh.

"But in all seriousness, yes Dylan. You can take Della on a date outside of the center," Eric said, bringing seriousness back to the room.

"That actually brings us to the other part of the good news I have for you, Della. Do you remember when you first got here, we told you your percentage had to be above a certain number before you can head home?"

"No," I said hesitantly. The look on his face made me feel suddenly uneasy.

"Well, originally you needed to be above 70% before we could send you home."

"She hit that," Dylan mumbled.

"She did," Eric laughed. "And then some."

"Wait," I cut off their excited laughter. "If I'm at 85 when I needed to be at 70. . . Does this mean. . . Does this mean I get to go home?"

"It does," Eric smiled at me. "All I have to do is call your parents and start the paperwork. That'll take a few days to get finalized, probably by next week. But that means this is your last week at the center, Della."

I jumped up and ran over to him, quickly wrapping him in a tight hug. I cried as he hugged me back. "I told you we'd get you better," he whispered into my ear.

I pulled out of the hug, completely speechless. "I can't believe. . . After all this time. . . I'm finally going home?" I said excitedly, making Eric and Dylan laugh.

"Yep," Eric laughed. "I"m sure your brothers will be very excited."

My eyes started to water again when I thought about my family and everything they've gone through.

"Oh, Della," Eric sighed when he saw the tears start to stream down my cheeks. He pulled me back into a hug and gently rubbed my back.

"Your brothers are going to be so excited to hear that you get to come home. I know for a fact that your parents have left your room just like you did, waiting for you to come home. All your work, all the tests, all the pain has finally paid off. Congratulations, kiddo."

* * * * *

I looked in the mirror at my reflection. I was wearing the only dress I brought to the center, the one I haven't worn since before the accident. I started nervously chewing on my bottom lip as I thought about how things were finally changing.

Things were going great between Dylan and me, I was above my improvement percentage, and was going home as soon as the paperwork was finalized. I couldn't decide which of those two were more unbelievable; the fact that I was in a happy relationship that I never thought I'd be in or that I was finally leaving this center and going home, back with my family.

I jumped when there was a knock at my door. I took a shaky breath as I grabbed my phone, put it into my purse, and walked to the door. When I opened it, a smile instantly formed on my face as I saw Dylan standing in the hallway, in a suit. He reached up and scratched the back of his head, smiling at me.

"Wow," he sighed. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," I blushed as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. He grabbed my hand and led me out of the center.

I tried to ignore the several glances he sent my way as we drove to dinner. Dylan pulled up to the restaurant and parked in front of the valet stand. He got out as a valet opened the door for me. I smiled politely as he helped me out.

As Dylan jogged around and grabbed my hand, two black vans pulled up. I looked at him, instantly seeing the nerves on his face.

"Shit," he mumbled as he tried to lead me into the restaurant. Before we got to the door, guys with cameras jumped out of the vans and started taking pictures of us.

Dylan quickly pulled me into the restaurant before they could corner us. We were both breathing hard, my heart rate slowing down as we got safely inside.

"I'm so sorry, Della," Dylan said as the doorman kept the paparazzi from coming inside the restaurant. "People are always following me. I should've been more careful when I visited you every day. I'm so sorry, Della."

I cut him off by reaching up, cupping his cheek in my hand and standing on my toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. I pulled away and bit my lip as my cheeks burned.

"It's okay," I whispered as I let go of his cheek and grabbed his hand. "I understand it's part of your life. And I. . . I want to be in your life so. . ."

I bit my lip when he smiled down at me. "I want you in my life too," he smiled before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync until we noticed lights flashing outside the glass windows. We pulled apart, our cheeks burning when we saw the paparazzi taking pictures of us making out.

Dylan grabbed my hand and led me to the hostess. "Sorry," he whispered with a small laugh.

"It's okay," I whispered back.

Luckily, we weren't bothered the rest of dinner. We ate without anyone taking pictures of us and without anyone bothering us. Dylan had just paid the bill when he looked up at me, a strange look in his eyes.

After dinner, we decided to walk through the park. I noticed he was especially quiet as we left the restaurant and headed to the park. I waited until we had started our walk before speaking up.

"You okay?" I asked. "You've been acting kind of weird since we left dinner."

"Yeah," he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. He bit his lip before reaching over and grabbing my hand.

Suddenly, he stopped walking making me stop next to him. He took a shaky breath, slowly looking up from our hands and at me. He continually opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find the right words. I sent him a soft smile, waiting patiently for him.

"Adeline," he said slowly.

"Adeline? Uh-oh," I tried to joke to lighten the mood and ease some of his tension. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," he laughed. "It's not. . ."

He stopped talking, the seriousness returning to his face. "Della, I know you keep telling me I don't need to be guilty for what I did to you, but. . ."

"Dylan," I tried to cut him off.

"Please, let me finish. I need to get this out," he said quickly. I nodded as he took a deep breath. "I know you aren't angry with me, but I'm furious with myself. I destroyed your life, Della. To make it worse, I got away with it. When it happened, I didn't care about other people or how my actions would affect anyone but me. I was selfish and stubborn and. . . I was a dick, Della. And knowing that? Remembering how I acted makes me feel like I don't deserve you."

He paused, looking away from me. My heart broke as he slowly let go of my hands. Before he could put his hands in his pockets, I quickly grabbed them and intertwined our fingers.

"Dylan," I said gently. "Please look at me."

He sighed before slowly looking up at me. I sent him a smile as our eyes met. "I hate that you think you don't deserve me. You have no reason to think that."

"But, I. . ." He tried to jump in but I shook my head, cutting him off.

"The guy you were back then, isn't who you are now. The guy who got in our accident isn't who is standing in front of me right now. The guy who is the reason I spent that past year and a half in and out of remission, isn't whose hand I'm holding. The guy who was selfish and only cared about himself isn't who has spent the past few months doing everything in his power to make me happy. The guy I know, the guy in front of me is caring, kind, funny, selfless, and never fails to make me smile. That's who you are now. That's who you are to me."

I gasped as he suddenly let go of my hands, grabbed my face, and pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started moving my lips against his. As we kissed, he slowly let go of my face and wrapped his arms around my waist.

I snaked my arms around his neck as our lips continued to move in sync. Dylan was the first one to pull away. He leaned his forehead against mine as we caught our breaths.

"Della, I need to tell you something." He whispered. He leaned back, looking directly into my eyes. He reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek.

"What is it?" I asked when he didn't continue. "You can tell me anything."

He smiled down at me, slightly hesitating. I waited as he took a deep breath.

"Della, I think I might be falling in love with you."

His confession made my breath get caught in my throat. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. Dylan laughed into the kiss as he started moving his lips against mine. This time, I was the first to pull away.

"I think I might be falling in love with you too, Dylan."

He let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a laugh. I gasped and giggled like a little kid as he picked me up and spun us around. He put me back on my feet, not letting go of me.

He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find the right words for a different reason. He laughed before pulling me back into his chest and pressing his lips back to mine.

The butterflies in my stomach went crazy as our lips moved in sync. I felt Dylan slide his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for permission. As soon as I gave him access, his tongue started exploring my mouth.

He pulled apart when there was a flash. We laughed as he grabbed my hand and led me away. We quickly lost them as we ran back to his car. He opened my door before sliding across the hood to his side.

"Was the slide necessary?" I laughed as he jumped in and started his car.

"I say if you can do it, do it." He reached across and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss as our lips started moving in sync.

Dylan pulled away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against mine. "You make me extremely happy, Della," he whispered.

I leaned back, instantly reaching up and cupping his cheek in my hand. "I owe you a lot, Dylan." I laughed when I saw the look on his face. "Yes, that. But also. . . Before you came to the center and started forcing yourself into my life, I was really struggling." My voice broke as I told him the truth.

He grabbed my hand that was holding his cheek, intertwining our fingers. "The truth is, Dylan. . . Do you remember when Evan was showing you around and you walked into the music room? I was at the piano playing a song I used to sing all the time. What you may not have seen or heard was Evan walking over to me and whispering for me not to stay and torture myself."

"Torture yourself?" Those two words got caught in Dylan's throat. I nodded as I nervously bit my lip.

"Whenever I got really depressed and needed to feel something, I'd go to the music room. Playing the piano used to relax me but after the accident, it became a painful reminder. The day you came to the center, I woke up that morning feeling. . . Feeling like I couldn't do it anymore. I was ready to give up, Dylan. I was ready to end my pain and my misery. But then you. . ."

My voice broke as I saw his eyes start to water, I reached forward and caught a tear that escaped his eye.

"You gave me a reason to keep pushing. I wanted to see what you would do. You started paying attention to me, wanting to be in my life. Ever since I met you, I haven't gone back to the music room. I know you think you ruined my life, but it's the exact opposite, Dylan." I laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. "You saved me."

Dylan reached over and cupped my cheek in his hand. "You saved me, Della." He whispered. Before I could say anything else, he pressed his lips to mine. I didn't hesitate to start moving my lips against his.

The kiss got heated fasted as he let go of my cheek and reached across my body to grab my hip. With our lips still moving in sync, Dylan turned me so I was facing him.

Dylan broke the kiss and didn't hesitate to move his lips to my neck. I let out a small moan as he kissed up and down my neck, leaving a trail of wet bruises. My breathing sped up and I tilted my head back as he kissed my collarbone, biting slightly.

"Dylan," I moaned when he sucked on a part of my skin that sent a bolt of electricity through my entire body. He pulled away from my neck, a loud popping sound filling the car.

He smiled as he pressed his lips back to mine. Our lips instantly started moving in sync as I reached forward and snaked my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. We finally pulled apart when both of us were struggling to breathe.

Dylan leaned his forehead against mine as we caught our breaths. "We should probably go," he whispered still out of breath. "Especially before the paparazzi find us."

I nodded, biting my lip. He leaned back and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "You okay?" He smirked when he saw the redness on my cheeks.

"I. . . I'm just," I stuttered. "That was one hell of a kiss."

"Yeah, it was," he laughed.

I bit my lip, suddenly embarrassed. "What is it?" Dylan asked, scanning my face.

"Dylan, the thing is. . ." I hesitated as I saw the way he was looking at me. "I don't want you to think that I'm. . . Or there's a reason. . ."

"Della," he said, grabbing my hands. "Just say what's making you make your "Della Worried" face." I bit my lip, a small smile forming at his teasing.

"I've never done this before," I sighed. "I've never had a real relationship."

"Della," he said with a small smile. "I don't care that you've never had a boyfriend. That doesn't bother me. It surprises me a little because of how amazing you are, but it doesn't bother me."

"It's just," I sighed. "My life revolved around my singing. I didn't have time for a boyfriend. I have time now and I. . . I'm scared."

Dylan leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss wasn't near as heated as the one before but there was even more emotion behind it. He pulled away, not looking away from me.

"I'm scared too," he whispered.

"Really?" I asked, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"Yes, really." He smirked at me playfully. The smirk was quickly replaced with his genuine smile. "I've never been in a relationship like this. Meaning, I've never felt this way about a girl before. And now that I have? There is no way in hell I am letting it, letting you go."

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #tfios #rehab love story #RAL

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audreyandherocs · 4 years

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A Place of Beginnings, Wonders, and Miracles || A Cat’s Paw

Emma belongs to @call-me-emma @chi-townbatgirl

Lily belongs to @maruthor @ocelysium

Green eyes simply looked out of the window of the Wayne Mansion. She paid attention to the meticulously kept grass and shrubbery, and the clumps of snow that remained on top of it. It had been almost a year since Avery had died.

Almost a year and a few more days afterwards since she had came back to life. Placed into a new body and dumped into the Lazarus pits, with the combined effort of Lex Luthor and Ra’s al Ghul.

Two of her uncles, one who was paternal and the other maternal.

Although, Avery didn’t know how many generations she was related to Ra’s exactly. Distant long, he once said. When it came to him, that could be hundreds of years.

A person similar to her smiled brightly and rode on the horses around the tribe. She was dressed in traditional garbs suited for the plains and deserts as they moved nomadically. She came to visit her relatives and got to finally to see her dear cousin but he might as well be her brother. Although the debate of who was older and younger was still up for debate.

Right beside her was a man with a long black hair, that was braided. He rode on his own horse as they ran across the plains to look for any wildlife to hunt. Perhaps forage.

But that was the pretense for their little adventure. In truth, they needed an excuse to get as far as they could so they could talk and be free.

“I see you have been keeping up with your riding skills little brother!” Avery yelled over the winds and the thundering hooves.

The man turned to her and scoffed, and together reeled their horses together to stop at a stream. They disembarked from their horses to let them rest and they petted their mains while they spoke.

“You still call me such when I’m no longer little” said [Ra’s].

Yes, that man was Ra’s al Ghul. But also not. This was before he called himself Ra’s al Ghul. Avery didn’t know why but she knew it was him. He was so much younger. So much kinder.

Avery, yet not Avery, sat on a rock and pulled out the little satchel she brought. She passed him a sweet bun and [Ra’s] took it. Together they sat and spoke.

“How is life sister?” asked [Ra’s] as he leaned back on the grass.

“As much as it can be. Marriage and the dowry is still be talked” she grimaced.

“Uncle tells me that man is very powerful.”

“Indeed, and more” nodded Avery before she rested her elbow on her propped-up knee. “I only hope he will let me continue doing what I have always done.”

“But your duties will keep you there” said [Ra’s].

“Unfortunately, but when are they ever done.”

Avery turned to [Ra’s] and beamed. “Never mind that, I have brought you a gift!”

“A gift? Sister, you are supposed to-“

Avery shushed him and dug into her pack before producing a few scrolls and books. She passed it to [Ra’s] who took them and glanced at them. At every literature, his eyes widened and sparkled with curiousity. He looked at Avery with surprise.

“Sister, are these-“

“These are books of the latest scientific findings as well math, medicine, and more” said Avery as she smiled, sitting cross legged and facing him.

“how could you have produced them? These books are so far away.”

“Nothing less for my brother” smiled Avery as she watched Ra’s pour over the books. “These are my final gift to you.”

“Final? You say as if we’ll never see each other again” said [Ra’s].

“We might never. You have a sharp mind like an eagle [Ra’s]. Our lifestyle in the tribes are good but they are not for you Ra’s. Your mind is wide like this plain and you’ll never truly flourish in such a tiny garden.”

“What are you saying sister?”

“When the day comes, you might make the decision to remain with the tribe or go out there and find yourself [Ra’s]. We all have our paths to follow…”

Avery hissed at the pain and memory. Her teacup (thankfully empty) dropping onto the carpeted floor. She stared at it as cold sweat clung to her skin.

“Another…image” muttered Avery as she leaned down to pick up her teacup. She studied it but her mind was occupied.

Since her death and revival, she had been plagued with memories. They were memories for sure as she saw herself in them but they were not her either. They carried her face and her mannerisms, yet were different all the same. In every one of them she could feel herself living them and…dying.

They would’ve been passed off as trauma of her experiences, but what she told only verified her suspicions.

When the others went to rescue her corpse, Ra’s set a diversion and believed they had gotten in the nick of time before she was revived. Yet, when they saw the body drop into the pit was non-responsive…they saw that the body looked liked her yet not.

It was an empty vessel.

Only because the soul had moved into a new one.

It had been almost a year since those revelations and since she had been plagued night after night with old, new memories.

Avery begun to walk into the kitchen with the empty pot of tea and cup and basked in the silence.

She was thankful for being alive yet not.

For years, as soon as she remembered, she knew her time was limited. Her involvement with Ra’s in one of his plans only hastened it. That was a curse she had accepted.

Yet, as she lived, she met had lost her parents to the Joker, yet was welcomed into Bruce’s family and more. There she met the team and eventually fell in love with Kaldur. Did she regret her being alive again? Not really.

She just didn’t know what she’ll do anymore. She had tied everything up before she died and now…what was she supposed to do now?

“Avery?”

She turned to the call of her name and saw Bruce.

A soft smile formed on her lips, “Hey Bruce.”

“Hey” said Bruce as he opened his arms a little. Avery padded over, the notion of feeling the cold tiles on her feet still odd.

She went into Bruce’s arm and he hugged her. Normally, true Bruce wasn’t much of an emotional person but he didn’t own an ice cold heart. When she needed him, or anyone, he was there.

“How are you” he asked.

“I’m…better” she spoke honestly.

There was no response as Bruce separated from the hug and looked at her. She used to be a bit taller, coming up at his chin but the top of her head just came up at his collar bone.

“I thought you had work?” asked Avery, confused.

“I was, but there was something that came up” said Bruce, before he gently guided her to the kitchen table. He sat right beside her as he slid over a folder.

Avery immediately picked it up and read the contents.

Bruce spoke as she did, “When you came under my guardianship and it was clear you were staying, I was told of your insurances, inheritances and other things. This is one of them.”

Avery looked at the photos of an old run-down building. It was still relatively structurally sound but it was clear it wasn’t occupied for years. Strange how it was located in one of the prime locations.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving me land?”

Bruce shrugged, “Your brothers held it on for you it seems.”

“Wait what?”

“This building and lot, belongs to you in name.”

Avery gave Bruce a more confused look as Bruce got ready to tell her. Mrs. Friskers had jumped onto the table and Avery absently minded ran her fingers over soft, silk white fur. The vibrations of her purrs going through Avery’s hands.

Chairman Meow roughly jumped into her lap and curled up, his paws making biscuits.

“I don’t understand what’s going on” Avery said truthy.

“I know. Out of what your parents owned and thus your and your brothers are contributed to, this building alone belongs to you. According to the lawyer, it was given to you after the previous owner had passed away.”

Avery looked at the building and moved the pictures to see the paperwork. She read it over and saw the name.

“The Old Nice lady down the street. She was the one who used to own Mrs. Friskers” said Avery, her eyes going to Mrs. Friskers.

The cat simply purred and rubbed her head against Avery’s.

“She used to own this building and when she died, she had your parents hold it until you were old enough to own the building.”

Avery begun to scratch Mrs. Friskers and stared at Bruce. “I don’t know what do with it…?”

Bruce leaned back as Alfred had silently made hot cocoa for the two of them and gave them to them.

“I was thinking at some point we’ll give it a look over. See what it has to offer first.”

“Alright…” said Avery as she took a sip of cocoa. Her other hand pressing against Chairman Meow’s head so he wouldn’t take a sneak bite in.

Avery’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “hold on. How no one tried to buy this?”

Bruce gave a thoughtful look, “People have tried but every time they tried to, something ends up happening to make them unable to buy it before your inheritance. Others have tried to scope it but they end up getting injuries afterwards.”

Avery gave a perturbed look. “Bruce…why do I have feeling it’s cursed.”

Bruce took a sip of his cocoa. “I hope not. I don’t want to deal with magic.”

Avery and Bruce sipped their hot cocoa and let it sink in.

…..

Avery and Bruce stood outside the building. They were joined by the other members and Damian stood right by Avery’s side, holding her arm.

“So…this is the place huh?” said Dick. While he had to take care of a newborn, he was all for it when Bruce told Dick that Avery wanted to go outside and probably need their input.

“Looks rundown”

Tim gave a thoughtful look, “It still looks pretty stable. Just a bit of cosmetic look.”

Avery looked at them, “Hey, it’s not like I’m moving in or anything.”

Jason gave a look and tried to see through the windows, “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are any people squatting in here.”

“Jason!” chided Dick.

“Hey, we’re still in Gotham y’know!” Jason caught the eyes of Avery and he turned away, slightly grumpy. They were still getting used to everything going back to some sort of normalcy and while Avery wasn’t holding onto the hope Jason would come, it still touched her that he still came. Even if Dick had to convince him,

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at the building and just stuck closer to Avery.

“Alright, knock it off. We’re here to check this place out and help Avery figure out what she wants to do with this place.”

With that, Avery walked up to the door with the key. It was an old key, one of those old fashioned keys that had thick metals and engravings. Odd but considering it used to belong to the Old Nice Lady Down the Street, she shouldn’t be surprised.

Avery placed the key into the keyhole, and she gave it a twist. She could feel the audible click and Avery pulled out the key to open the door.

The door swung smoothly, and Avery took a step in. A feeling of rush went through Avery and she shivered. It wasn’t one of those cold shivers that made you jump, it felt…nice.

“You okay?” asked Dick.

“Yeah…just. Something” said Avery.

Damian stepped further in and glanced around the large, empty foyer. “Seems inhabited.”

“No duh pipsqueak” said Jason.

Damian glared at Jason and before he could say anything, they were already walking around. There were layers of dust around and a few missing patches of drywall but otherwise…

“This place looks pretty good. Except for all the dust and…spiderwebs” said Tim.

“Alfred is not going to be happy if he saw this” said Jason. He grimaced at the possibility they would have to help clean this up.

Cass stepped on the floors and pressed her foot down. “Nothing.”

“Yeah…the floors aren’t squeaking…and these are like what hardwood floors too?” asked Dick.

“Seems it was built to last” said Bruce as he inspected the place.

“Can’t believe the Nice Old Lady owned this” said Avery as they went in deeper through the open entrance way. It seemed like this was a kitchen?

“I think you mentioned her a few times, but who was she?” asked Jason. His hands in his jacket. Avery didn’t try to show any outward surprise that Jason decided to speak to her without anyone telling him to. Not since…

“I never got to see her because before she died, I was still blind” said Avery, “I was walking around the neighbourhood with my dog, Buster, who was basically my guardian. I was walking and just heard someone humming. I followed it and that’s where I met the Old Nice Lady down the street.”

They looked around and the kitchen and it seemed to be an industrial kitchen. There was a large freezer as well. They opened the wooden and glass backdoor of the kitchen and they came across a yard.

“She was nice but never gave me her name. Or I was too young to remember it. She didn’t mind. She gave me candy and we talked. She described things to me and told me stories. Especially ones of fairy tales and magic. I could tell she was lonely and she always thanked me for visiting her. Eventually my family also visited her and when she passed, she gave me Mrs. Friskers to take care of.”

“Wait…if you inherited Mrs. Friskers from her…how old is that cat?” wondered Jason.

“No idea, never got the age from her and I don’t think I’ll ever will” said Avery.

“Looks like this building has several rooms and areas set for private use” said Bruce. Damian who had found a ladder that connected to a floor jumped and took it down, before climbing. He and Tim quickly searched and opened a door.

“Looks like this is an apartment!” said Tim.

“This would make a nice hide out” said Damian.

“Boys!” said Bruce but was exasperated when Cassandra had joined them.

Dick snickered before he turned to Avery, “well it was nice of the Nice Old Lady to give you this place.”

“Yeah…not sure why though.”

They continued to inspect and found that the bottom also had sectioned rooms that opened outside and inside, which led into a main floor where it was a common room. There was a shared kitchen, windows, and such.

In each room on the bottom floor, there was a small kitchen with a small sink and two burner stoves with a simple shower and toilet for the bathroom. Jason whistled, “This would make a nice hideout to crash.”

“Do you think this was used for workers and the owners for a restaurant or something?” asked Avery to Bruce.

“It must as well be. It would make sense for the age of this building where servants and workers would stay on the premises and their room and board would be provided with their work and pay.”

They found the stairway and met up with Tim, Cassandra, and Damian who were up in the wooden beams and the high ceilings.

“This place is huge” commented Dick as he also jumped up to join Damian and Cassandra who were leaping from beam to beam.

Tim had a puzzled look on his face as he analyzed everything. “This place doesn’t make sense, why hasn’t anyone bought this place when it was leased?” he turned to Avery, “not that it’s not great no one has or anything.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out” said Bruce as Avery gave a sheepish smile. He had his arm out for Avery to hold onto as her body was still adjusting.

They continued further and further and found more floors. They were vast and empty as the others with several panes of windows before they got to the top. They accessed the roof and they found out it was 5 stories tall.

They stood from the top of the flat roof that opened and they looked at the city.

“That was nice” said Dick. “I can see us coming here at night to crash.”

Avery stuck closer to Bruce as she shivered from the cold. Her breaths came out white and the next thing she knew, she felt something drape over her shoulders. She looked and saw Jason without his jacket as he seemed to look anywhere then her.

Avery gave a soft smile and everyone else had saw it. They chose to wisely not comment on it and Damian only muttered a “Tt”.

“So…what do you want to do with it?” asked Dick.

Avery gave a thoughtful look. “I…want to keep it a little bit. If the Nice Old Lady gave me it, I should at least honour that. Maybe I’ll live in it for a year and see what it’s like before deciding if I want to rent it or sell it.”

Bruce nodded, “Then I’ll tell the Lawyers to write the paperwork. We’ll clean it together when you’re ready.”

Avery nodded and yawned. Her body feeling drained.

“Looks like it’s time to go home” said Dick as Bruce leaned down and carried her. Avery snuggled into Bruce’s hold as she felt herself growing weary.

“Yeah…I’d like that” admitted Avery.

“I wonder what Pennyworth has in plan” said Damian.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be delicious, and we’ll eat it whatever he has prepared” said Bruce.

There was other talking and murmurings here and there, but Avery just smiled and fell asleep.

…..

A year has passed since her death and revival. A year passed since it had all happened. A year since…

Avery had slowly gotten better and gradually learned how to live. She wasn’t alone and by gods, if she was, she wouldn’t be sane. She had been open with everyone and Avery had finished off her art degree with a minor degree in business.

As planned, Avery and her family and friends has cleaned up the building. They found more and more hidden treasures such as the decorated and coloured windows. The decorated woods that were carved lovingly. They had worked together to make things more presentable and got all the utilities working.

After everyone had worked together and gotten everything together, it seemed much more homey then they believed.

There were even plans to sleep over for a bit.

Bruce, Clark, Dinah, Diana, J’onn, and Oliver were kind enough to help Avery and got stuff like stoves and stuff in.

The Young Justice team had brought their stuff long enough for a month to sleep in, and Avery could almost see Bruce thinking how to get a Zeta tube operating here.

“Wow, this place is great” said Artemis as they all sat around the couches of the “living” quarters. Everyone was cozied together, and Avery was tucked in the arms of Kaldur who kissed her temple.

“Yeah, I can totally see us hanging her regularly” said Wally as he munched on some snacks.

“I wonder if that big kitchen will be set up” said M’gann who had an excited look, “Just think how many baked goods I can make!”

Conner grunted but seemed up for it.

Avery snorted but smiled at their remarks. “It’s only been like a month and you guys have been with me since. I need to see what’s like by myself for a bit.”

“Who says we can’t join you?” said Dick who poked her cheek. Avery swatted at his hand playfully as Kaldur spoke.

“It would be beneficial if we stayed together” smiled Kaldur.

Avery smiled warmly at him and Artemis scoffed at the two.

“Yeah, beneficial for who exactly?” teased Artemis.

Kaldur gave a cough, his face red with embarrassment. Avery laughed.

Eventually time passed and everyone got into their respective rooms. Well, except Dick who had to go home to take care of baby Braydon. Though, there were plans made for all of them to visit.

There was a “main” bedroom which Avery and Kaldur slept in. It was well in the night and Avery was tucked in the arms of Kaldur who slept soundly.

Avery had always been a light sleeper, but she didn’t want anyone to know she had a harder time sleeping then usual.

Tonight, was one of those nights where she couldn’t relax.

At first she closed her eyes and let them rest but she couldn’t rest her mind nor body. She opened them and watched Kaldur sleep. She reached up gently and brushed her fingers against the side of his face. He twitched but he relaxed, breathing rhythmically. Up towards her death and after her revival, Kaldur hadn’t had the best rest for two years. Avery pressed her ear against his bare chest and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

Avery felt guilty for putting Kaldur in this situation and she couldn’t be more grateful for him being with her. Him and the others.

Sighing in her head, Avery smoothly pulled herself away from Kaldur’s arm and instantly missed the security and warmth that Kaldur provided. She grabbed her robe and tied it around herself before going to make herself some tea.

Some chamomile would help soothe her nerves. She quietly opened the door and with the trained motions of an assassin, walked silently through the room. She went to the communal kitchen and made herself a cup of chamomile tea in a pot.

Good thing she had brought her hot water maker and avoid having to fill a kettle and turn it on. Putting the tea up to her lips, she let the steam warm her face.

Mrs. Friskers brushed against her legs and she smiled, before reaching down to pet her cat.

“I can’t believe this used to belong to her” whispered Avery to Mrs. Friskers. “I wonder why she didn’t…”

Avery had a thought and Mrs. Friskers pawed at the edge of her gown. Avery looked at her as Mrs. Friskers walked and looked back at her, as if telling Avery to follow.

Seeing as she waited for the Chamomile to kick in, Avery decided to entertain her cat.

She begun to follow her cat who walked around and around. The darkness didn’t hinder her as she could see just fine. Whether it’s because of her powers or simply out of training, she wasn’t sure anymore. Taking occasional sips from her tea, she followed Mrs. Friskers. They went up the second floor and then the locked door of the third.

Mrs. Friskers waited her on top of the steps in front of the door, her silky tail slowly moving. “You wanna go in here?”

Mrs. Friksers let out a meow and Avery reached her free hand to the knob. As her finger curled around it, the door knob felt warm and it pulsed in her palm. Avery blinked and she turned the knob.

An audible click was heard and as she pushed, the door jingled. Avery jumped as this door didn’t have a bell and when then there was a bright light. Avery hissed at the sudden contrast of brightness and then it hit her.

“What the hell” gaped Avery.

She would’ve been dreaming except the taste of Chamomile had filled her mouth and not to mention, she dropped the cup. It shattered against the door and she could hear audible movements from down below. No doubt the others were woken up.

Avery stared at what was in front of her and blinked-

Avery woke up the sound of her phone going off. She rose immediately from her bed and turned to the alarm on her phone going off. She felt something tighten around her waist and she looked to see Kaldur right beside her; his face buried into the pillow and groaning.

She blinked in confusion and automatically went to turn off her alarm, before just sitting in her bed and looking out the window.

There was something to her dream yet…why couldn’t she remember? If it was a dream, this was an odd differences to the endless sea of her faces.

Avery forgot everything as Kaldur pulled her down to his body and she snorted and giggled as he gave her good morning kisses.

On the bedside there was an empty cup, with the remnants of chamomile tea.

…..

Avery looked out the window from the first floor of the building. It seemed to be a storefront originally and during the process of getting everything cleaned, she kept having an idea.

“Hey Bruce…what if I said I wanted to open a café?”

Bruce looked at her and it begun to spiral .

Here she was, Avery wiping down the counter after there was a small flurry of people. There wasn’t much to the café as of right now, but she had gotten steady traffic surprisingly enough.

The Cat’s Paw was the Café’s name. It seemed fitting to honour the one thing that was of the original owner.

Avery double-checked her tea stash and coffee beans; refilling them as she went. Empty pots and cups were cleaned and dried. Counters and tables were cleaned and everything was in order. Pastries and sandwiches were pretty much gone, and she thanked Alfred for giving her a refresher.

It also helped she was used to making large servings quickly.

Avery flipped the sign “closed” as she took her break. The screen went down that was still see through on her end, but blacked out on the other end of the two large windows on the front. The only way people could see through was through the little pane of window of the door.

“So, how’s the café going?”

Avery smiled at the voice and the small sounds of babbles and coos. She placed on her face-mask as Emma approached her with little Braydon in her arms.

Avery chuckled as she begun to pull out her personal tea sets and boiled some water.

“It’s been actually going well. I was worried since I know more about tea then coffee; but it seems my coffee skills are good enough” explained Avery as Emma hummed.

“Why don’t you take a seat first. Tea?”

“Thanks yeah. Oh, no-“

“Caffeine, I got it. Muffins?”

“Oh please” said Emma as she took a spot on one of the plush armchairs. She cooed at Braydon as Avery smiled warmly at the sight, before seeping the teas.

She grabbed a couple of muffins and sandwiches before placing them all on trays. With expert hands she carried the drinks and food onto the table where Emma was seated.

Flurry of hands moved with practiced motions and Avery leaned in her own chair, handling her own cup. She watched Emma take a sip of tea and her shoulders laxed.

“This is nice. I needed this, thanks Avery” said Emma. Her face now less tired.

Avery raised her cup slightly towards Emma, “Thanks for visiting. Sorry for not being around often-“

Emma tutted her and dismissed her worries, “You’re family. Besides, I’m just glad you’re settling in.”

Avery nodded as she took a sip of her tea (her face mask put down). There was small talk between here and there before Avery closed shop. She had prepped everything (and Emma couldn’t resist helping her “prep”. There would be abundance of goods tomorrow and Avery had only needed to take care of the prep for the drinks). They all went to her apartment within the building.

Dick had arrived with groceries for the dinner, after he was out doing some errands. There was laughter and chatting, as all four of them had dinner. Avery had waved the new family goodbye and watched them leave; her face relaxing and becoming somber. She let out a sigh before making her rounds. Chairman Meow and Mrs. Friskers following her as she went.

Things were good. She was getting used to her body and getting better. She felt better. However, there was something missing.

Avery padded over to the altar where it had one platform was the Chinese Buddhist deities, then below it was her family. Right to the side was a picture of Lily. One of her best friends and her found-sister.

It had also been a year since she had died since…that day and Jason had blamed her. Partially at least.

She couldn’t blame him but at the same time, Jason seemed to lessen his anger towards her as she suffered through the aftershocks of the Lazarus Pit and more. They still hadn’t gotten to the point they were before, but they were talking.

Avery kept busy with the Cat’s Paw. Which helped a lot. She liked talking to people and focusing on them. Everyone she knew had visited at some point, whether as civilians or as superheroes, and her doors were always open.

Living here too, in the living complex of this building offered her some individuality. She needed to see if she was ready to live alone and for the most part, she was pretty much functional. Didn’t stop Alfred from coming in weekly; whether for her tea or simply checking in.

“I miss Alfred’s cooking,” spoke up Avery to no one in particular. “I kind of miss everyone…even if the others were usually gone for patrol by now.”

Chairman meow gave a huff and Mrs. Friskers meowed at her from her perch.

Avery huffed at the fact she was talking to cats but moved on. As she did her usual routine and opened the door to her bedroom, she stepped in and blinked in utter confusion.

“What-“

Right in front of Avery’s eyes, was unmistakable the entrance way of Wayne Manor.

“What?”

Avery turned to look behind her and saw two different things. She glanced back and forth and in that time, Mrs. Friskers had jumped through and went down the long hall.

“Mrs. Friskers?!”

Her white cat disappeared around the corner and Avery didn’t know what to do. So she just stood in between the doorway. After a moment, Avery decided to close the door after stepping back into her new home. Her hand still rested on the door knob and she took a moment before opening it again.

There she still saw the long hallway of the Wayne Manor.

She did this a few times before the next time she opened it, she came face to face with the dumbfounded faces of Alfred, Bruce, and Damian; who was carrying Mrs. Friskers in his arms, purring away.

Avery shrieked and electricity flickered in response.

…..

This was when they discovered that the building, they were in was Magic.

In time, they discovered that the entire place was made from magic and was very similar to the House of Mysteries and the Tower of Fate.

Over time, the building begun to change in response to the Master’s needs, which was Avery. The Café of the Cat’s Paw had changed and now there was a second loft in the actual cafe, while providing equipment and more.

They also discovered that the doors could act as entrance ways and Avery figured out, she could have a room full of doors that would lead to specific places. It didn’t stop the House or the Cat’s Paw from opening to anyone in need, however.

She had gotten a few sudden guests that way.

It would later lead others in need and Avery realized she didn’t give up her heroic persona.

It even led others to her café that would later end up being her employees.

It would even bring people closer

……

Avery was wiping the counter of the Cat’s Paw as she had closed for the night. Things had improved when she had started. She had added to the menu with more variety and traffic was improving. The café ended up not just a place for civilians to come by for a small breather, it also ended up being a haven for heroes and villains alike.

The latter usually consisted of those like Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, who respected her rules and enjoyed what she had to offer.

Sometimes Avery suspected that those two came here for a date night at times. Poison Ivy would usually leave in a good mood and the plants she had around would look better then ever. Not to mention the green house on the roof with her house would always flourish (though combined with magic, she wasn’t sure anymore).

The Cat’s Paw had made her uneasy but over time, she came to love it. There was something that peaked Avery’s suspicions. It seemed every time someone consumed something from the café, they seemed to be…refreshed or had an added glow. Not enough to be noticeable to the naked eye, but there was a small magical effect.

Avery glanced at the mirror she had found in the basement of the Cat’s Paw, and it was a large decorative mirror. It was set up on one of the walls of the Café, where to most is a regular mirror. It acted as such but overtime, Avery discovered that it was a magic mirror (thankfully with no actual talking entity within).

On cue, there was a soft sound and Avery looked at the mirror as it pulsed. A new guest was coming in.

Avery begun to put on her apron and smooth her clothes. She wondered who this new guest was. As she begun to go through the list of possible candidates. The House shook a bit and there was a flash of light. Avery averted her eyes for a moment and when the light died down, there were a bunch of falling mats. ‘someone is about to fall in’ thought Avery as she begun to check her items.

She looked up at the roof and soon enough a hole had appeared right above. Avery squinted and tried to see what it was like but the tunnel was long and dark.

Then a mass begun to appear, and it got bigger as it went. The figure shot out and landed on the falling mats and the figure bounced a few times. Avery just stood there and watched the figure jump and down, before walking over.

‘reminds me of Alice in Wonderland’ thought Avery before she spoke. “Welcome to the Cat’s Paw. I see you landed yourself here-“

She stopped mid-welcome as she finally observed who it was. Dark hair that was slightly wavy. Dark skin…thin- She was dirty with twigs and leaves sticking to her but there was no doubt.

Avery quickly got onto the mats and grabbed the figures’ shoulders to get a good look at her. There was a protest and Avery stiffened at the sound of the voice.

The figure slapped her hands away and Avery just stood there petrified as the figure brushed away the hair away from her face.

“What in the world-“

Avery’s green eyes widened as she saw who had come through the door. Tears started to prickle in her eyes as she let out a choked sob. Her mouth gaped open in wonder or shock, she didn’t know.

“Lily?”

Lily turned to the sound of her name and her eyes trailed up to the face of Avery as her face was crumbling down. There in front of Avery, was her friend who was supposedly was dead.

“Avery?” said Lily, “Where am I?”

The Cat’s Paw was full of Wonder and Miracles.

#original story #original characters #original fiction #yj oc #DC oc #dc comics oc #KALDUR #Kaldur'ahm #dick grayson #jason todd #call-me-emma #emma #lily #ocelysium #avery #avery yu #long fic #the cat's paw #cafe

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