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no-pucks-given · 3 years

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TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #tyson jost fanfiction

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thekingslover · 3 years

Text

Jetski For Sale (Lokius fic)

He stops riding the jetski.

He keeps it on the small trailer at the end of his driveway beside his modest split-level home and covers it with a blue tarp.

Every morning, in his brown button-up pajamas and a bathrobe, he walks to the end of the driveway and collects the morning paper. He’s careful to hold his coffee mug steady as he leans down, but he always manages to spill a drop or two. His slippers are covered in tiny coffee spots.

He tucks the newspaper under his arm and turns back toward his house. He left the television on; through the window, the screen flashes with the bright white letters, Breaking News! Two houses down, his neighbor is already out mowing the lawn. Further away, a dog barks.

Though he lives alone, it’s a perfect life. Everything’s simple. His mortgage is affordable. His brown sedan is paid off. And the jetski...

He doesn’t remember buying it. He always wanted one, dreamed of it. He had a savings set aside for someday. Yet... his savings is still there, and he still has this jetski.

He looks at it now, at the way it bulges under the tarp. A shame to leave it like that. He should take it out again. But the last time he did that...

Shaking his head, he walks back to the house. He drinks his coffee and reads his newspaper. He goes to work, comes home, goes to sleep, and does it all again the next day.

“Something’s different about you,” his sister says on the phone, their weekly call. “You sound different.”

“Same old me.” He’s good at keeping back his feelings and pushing forward the cheer.

She knows, though. Older sisters always seem to. “Are you sure you haven’t been seeing anyone lately?”

This sends him laughing. “A secret boyfriend? Come on, you have quite an imagination on you.”

“Laugh all you want,” she says, stern. She’s not backing down, though her voice does soften as she adds, “It’s only that you... Well, you sound... heartbroken.”

“That’s...” He should deny it. He hasn’t dated anyone in a good long while, but, well, now that she mentions it... He’s had his heart broken before, long ago, and it felt a little something like this. Like something crucial is suddenly missing. Like you spent so much time learning someone and adapting to them, shaping whole parts of your life around them, and then they are just... gone.

There’s a person-sized hole in his life now, but he can’t quite remember their shape.

No, that can’t be.

“That’s crazy,” he says, thinking, maybe I’m crazy.

“Why don’t you come visit us for a while?” she says. “The kids would love to see you.”

“Yeah,” he says, shaky. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. Tell them I love them. Love you too.” Then he hangs up.

That night, he lays on his back in bed and stares at the ceiling, afraid to look to his right. He used to sleep sprawled across the entire width of the bed, a true bachelor enjoying his bachelorhood. When did he start picking one side?

He turns over, facing away from the barren expanse of the rest of the mattress, but the bookshelf offers little comfort. Most of his books are about history, biographies on interesting characters from the past. There’s a couple of jetski magazines wedged in, too. But what catches his eye... He remembers buying it, knows he did, the morning after watching a documentary on the perception of time and space. The documentarian had written a book. The Mobius Strip.

Frowning, he doesn’t find any sleep that night, no matter how many long minutes he closes his eyes, or how many sheep he tries to count in his head.

Mobius.

It’s a mathematical theory. Not a name. But it wedges between his ribs and stays buried behind them.

He’s not even a maths guy! But he can’t shake it. It feels heavy, too important.

He tosses and turns. He reaches out to the other side of the bed, realizes its empty, and snaps upright, dread overtaking him for one sharp moment before he remembers that its supposed to be empty.

This is normal. This is his perfect little life.

He flops back into bed and runs a hand down his face. Maybe he should go visit his sister, before he fully loses his mind.

His hands shake the next morning when he walks out to get the newspaper at the end of the driveway. Half his coffee spills when he leans to pick it up, but its fine. Maybe he should give up coffee entirely. Maybe too much caffeine is his problem.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

Turning towards the house, he spots the jetski, there under the blue tarp. The mysterious jetski that he doesn’t remember buying. The one, when he’s out on it, he sits too far forward, like he’s making space for someone behind him. But there’s no one there. There’s never anyone there.

The jetski, he decides, was the start of his problems. Maybe if he... If he...

Storming back into the house, he leaves what’s left of his coffee in the sink and the newspaper forgotten on the counter, and hurries into the office. He rips off a long sheet of dot matrix printer paper. Biting off the cap of his pen, he scribbles on it in large block letters, all caps, FOR SALE.

Back in the driveway, he removes the chocks from behind the wheels of the trailer, and flips off the tarp. He wheels the trailer and the jetski to the end of the driveway, right up against the road.

He must look like a mad man, out there in his brown button-up pajamas and coffee-stained slippers. The neighbor’s mowing the lawn. The dog’s barking further away. Everything’s perfect in this perfect little neighborhood, this perfect little life. But he feels like he is going insane.

He slaps the for sale sign on the front of the jetski, and starts back for the house. The sooner that thing is out of his life... Maybe... Maybe things would go back to normal.

His heart pangs in a way he doesn’t understand. Heartache. So much heartache. Why?

Does he even want normal?

But if not that, then what? What is he missing?

He’s at his front door, hand on the doorknob, when someone politely coughs behind him. He pauses a moment, there’s no way someone is there... But when he glances over his shoulder - yeah. Someone’s behind him, only a few feet away.

Not just someone. The most gorgeous person he has ever seen, wearing a sleek black suit and a pair of sunglasses. Long dark hair is slicked back and pushed behind their ears.

He should probably feel self-conscious, standing there in his brown pajamas in front of this god of a person - probably a model - but he doesn’t. Strangely, he feels more at ease now than he has in weeks. His whole body relaxes like he finally exhaled a held breath.

But that doesn’t make sense. They’ve never met. He would remember.

He would never forget a face like that.

“Hello,” the person says, and the word tremors slightly.

“Hello.” It tremors when he says it too.

There’s no car on the road. No bicycle on the sidewalk. However this person got here, it’s like they dropped down from the sky.

The person clears their throat. “You’re selling the jetski?”

“You...” He blinks. He knew jetskis were popular - hell, they are the best - but he hadn’t expected an offer before he even got his pants on. “Yeah. You interested?”

“Yes, I...” They drop their head a moment, taking their time to think. When they lift their head again, their shoulders lift too, like they are preparing for a battle.

He supposes negotiations can be seen as a battle, but he can’t bring himself to match the person’s pose. He’s ready to give up the jetski for free at this point. Whatever gets it gone.

The person asks, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. It runs like a dream.”

“Then why get rid of it?”

His heart hurts, so he laughs through the pain. It’s silly, but he can’t help feel his sister was right. This person wouldn’t know either way, so he finds himself telling them, “I’m heartbroken.”

The person goes very still. Their mouth opens and they take in a shaky, noisy breath. When they say, “What?” the word is bone dry and crumbling.

“It’s something we did together... I think.” He’s making it up, but it feels right. So he keeps talking. “And now. Well. It kinda reminds me of... I’m pretty sure I forgot a lot of things, but I can’t forget that. There’s supposed to be someone else. And I can’t... I can’t...”

He’s not making any sense, but the person is hanging on every single word.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’ll let it go cheap. Too many memories... or... I don’t know, feelings?” He sighs. “Just make me an offer, okay? I have to get ready for work.”

He wants nothing more than to keep this beautiful person on his doorstep, but... well, life isn’t always about getting what you want. This person wants a jetski, he has one. A transaction will occur, and this person will move forward like he never existed.

He’ll be left behind again.

Again?

Now, he’s the one to stand a little straighter. “Do you ever get deja vu?”

“Deja vu?”

“You know, where you feel like you’ve lived an exact moment already, once before. I’ve been reading this book about mobius strips and...” There’s that pang again, in his chest. A subtle ache that is swelling. He wants to ignore it, like he always has, but he’s finding he can’t really anymore. “Don’t you think that’d be a cool name? Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.” He laughs, and it hurts. It hurts.

The person doesn’t laugh. Instead, they take a small step back. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

His laughter dies quickly. It wasn’t real anyway. “You don’t want the jetski?”

“I do,” the person says with naked longing. “More than anything.”

“Then its yours.” He shrugs. “You know, it kinda feels like it was already yours? Like, maybe its just been waiting around for you to show up and claim it.”

The person shakes their head. “It’s better off without me. It finally has a chance to... to... live the way you - it deserves...”

“I mean, that’s a nice thought. But in practice... wouldn’t it be better for jetskis to decide for themselves the kind of lives they want? Whose to say that their life before was all that great? Because let me tell you, this perfect little normal life I’m living? Kinda sucks.” He doesn’t really understand what he’s saying, but the words still fall out of him, like ripping a scab off an old wound and all the blood starts running again.

The person takes another step back, but this time, he follows, taking a step forward. Somehow, it feels crucial that he not let this person leave him behind again.

There, another again. What is he not remembering?

“There’s something terribly wrong with all this,” he says. “I’m forgetting something important, but whatever it is - whoever - I don’t think I can be happy without them. Not really. Not in any way that matters.”

“Mobius...” the person says, soft, under their breath. Stronger, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

And the dam breaks.

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Loki.” The name, that name. How could he forget that name?

The person - Loki - exhales again, watery this time.

“Maybe if we never met, this would be enough. Maybe it was once. But not anymore. Never again. Not since you. And not even your little mind hocus pocus could change that.”

Mobius takes another step forward. This time, Loki does not move back. They stay just as they are and let Mobius close the distance. Mobius lifts his hands to Loki’s face and slowly removes those sunglasses. Loki’s eyes have always been the most expressive - the easiest to read. No wonder they would try to hide them. Because now they shine with sorrow and regret and... love. So much love.

And that, Mobius knows, is exactly what he’s been looking for when he reaches out to the empty space beside him on the bed. When he sits in his kitchen and stares at the pulled-out chair across the table. When he rides his jetski and turns, ready to laugh with the missing person behind him.

“I’m not angry,” Mobius says, tossing the sunglasses aside. He takes one of Loki’s hands in his. Loki grips hard onto his fingers. “I understand why you did it. It’s kind of flattering really, to know you’d give up your own happiness to try to give me mine. But there was a very big problem with this latest Loki scheme.”

“What’s that?” Loki asks in a whisper.

Mobius gives them a smile. The first real one since they parted. “You’re unforgettable.”

Loki laughs once, a burst, like they’ve been holding something in and now its escaping. The hard lines of their face smooth out. And they look less like a frightened, broken shadow and more like themselves, god of mischief, with a small but growing smirk. “Of course. I suppose I should have considered that.”

“Big flaw. Ruined the whole thing, to be honest.”

Loki leans closer. “I hate to admit to fault, but I fear there was a second issue that I had not considered.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Your absolute stubbornness.”

“Stubborn? Me? You should look in the mirror, pal.”

Loki closes their eyes a moment. Mobius studies the planes of their perfect face, and wonders how, in all the infinite timelines, he ever forgot it.

“Loki,” Mobius says. “Do me a favor, though, huh? Don’t do this again. I... uh, well. It wasn’t the most fun for me.”

“Me, either.” Loki presses their forehead to Mobius’s. “I regretted every moment, but I... The TVA stole you from your life. I wanted to -”

“I know, I get it. I’m not mad. But communication is key to a relationship, yeah? So maybe next time you want to do a grand gesture of love for me, we should talk about it first?”

Loki leans back. They blink. But it’s not the love that trips them up, it’s, “Relationship?”

Mobius runs his hands along Loki’s arms, up to the shoulders and back down to the elbows. “Yeah. I mean, we’re partners, right?”

“Partners.” Loki doesn’t say the word with disgust, more... intrigue.

“Boyfriends?” Mobius tries.

“Boyfriends.” Loki frowns at that one.

“Lovers?”

Loki’s eyes are bright and full of wonder. How they could look at Mobius, someone so normal, like that... well. Loki makes Mobius feel like a god himself, no wonder he couldn’t go back to his old life.

“Lovers,” Loki says and kisses Mobius. Mobius smiles against their lips. Lovers, it is, then.

Kiss turns to kisses, and they linger. It’s right, so right that it further amplifies how wrong everything else was before. Mobius belongs here. Right here. With Loki. Forever, if possible.

When they break, they both laugh, and it’s light and true this time, for both of them.

“Hey, Loki,” Mobius says. “Want to buy a jetski?”

Loki pulls an annoyed face, but its all an act - Mobius sees right through it, and Loki’s not trying that hard to hide it. “I believe I’m the one who acquired that jetski for you. You have no right to sell it.”

“It was a gift,” Mobius says.

“It remains a gift. One I insist you keep.”

“Alright, alright,” Mobius laughs and Loki kisses him at the corner of his smile. “But only if you promise to keep me.”

“Oh, dear Mobius.” Loki brings their mouth to Mobius’s ear. “I hope you appreciated this display of selflessness, because I will not be repeating it.”

“Good.”

“I am a selfish god.”

“Uh, huh.”

Loki’s arms grip tightly around Mobius’s waist. “And from here to eternity, I will be keeping what’s mine.”

The last remaining knots in Mobius’s chest untangle. “And the jetski.”

“And the jetski,” Loki says and kisses him again.

#lokius #loki x mobius #post-canon #established relationship........ >.>#mobius pov ////#hey its another one of those loki enchants mobius to forget him and sends him back to his old life fics #angst with a happy ending #mcu ts ///////////#i wrote something else

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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I don't think agree with that though. You can use a older franchise without it being made for the audience that grew up on it. The new pokemon series doesn't need Ash to be a adult in a "mature" pokemon story. A new teen titans doesn't need to be like the original or care at all about those who grew up on the originals. It's just a kids show using characters new to them in the same way the OG titans were new to us, even though even older fans grew up on the comics.

You absolutely can change up old stories — and creators obviously do — I'm just saying no one should be surprised if adults are disappointed in the creation when it airs. And I think that disappointment is valid. Really, I think we're talking about two very different things here. There's a massive difference between adults becoming so obsessed with children's media that they try to cut the kids out of it completely and adults who say, "Hey, you made a really bad cartoon and I wish you hadn't because the original means a lot to me." What this conversation hasn't considered thus far are the good reboots that please both adults and kids (and getting enjoyment doesn't have to be because it's "made for" the adults in terms of grittiness. Adults enjoy standard cartoons too): Scooby Doo, Batman, and She-Ra to name just three. In most cases it's not really about the adults feeling like the cartoon isn't allowed to change, it's about the adults recognizing that the creators were trying to get by on nostalgia and nostalgia alone. They didn't handle the material respectfully and they didn't create a new story that could stand on its own. To be blunt, it's just bad, and both kids and adults recognize that. There are, as said, absolutely outliers here who take their nostalgia way, way, WAY too far, but they are actually outliers. Most adults love getting new content for a beloved series, whether it's updated for adults or still aimed at kids... provided that story is treated well. If you're not going to treat it well, why did you mess with something an entire generation loved rather than just creating something new?

Take Cruella, for example. Who is this movie for? By all surface logic it's for kids. It's a Disney film based on another, beloved Disney film. Anyone who hears the most basic premise for this prequel would go, "It's about Cruella from 101 Dalmatians? Yeah, that's obviously for children. Who else would it be for? Why are all these adults up-in-arms over a kid's movie? Get a life!" But, well, it's not a kid's movie. Not really. The live action aside, it's now PG-13 (as opposed to G) and it's 2 hours 14 minutes (as opposed to 1 h 19). Take a look at the official trailer:

youtube

Are there reboots, prequels, and sequels designed to breathe new life into an old story and update it for the kids of today? Absolutely and often those stories are great. But there's also a trend of taking what was previously kid's media and not updating it for just adults, but actively trying to appeal to both. Which is when we run into trouble. This trailer doesn't look anything like a kid's movie. From the cinematography to lines like "I guess they were always scared I'd be a psycho!" it's very much aimed at adults, but the subject itself, this character, is supposed to be for kids. It's a Disney movie, but Disney is no longer synonymous with children. Perhaps most importantly, Cruella is getting... mixed responses, to be generous. As said, a lot of adults' reactions come down to whether these beloved stories are treated well and when they're not, people are rightfully frustrated. We can't use "It's not meant for you" as an excuse here because who else is a trailer like this meant for except adults? It's less "I don't want kids to have anything. This is my story. Hands off. It needs to appeal to me and me alone!" and much more, "The creators clearly want me to be a part of this audience, I am arguably their actual target audience as opposed to the kids, and now that I've watched this I'm... I'm extremely disappointed. You took something I loved and did it dirty. I don't like it, I'm not sure if kids can even watch this... so who is this story for? It was pretty clearly for me, but now I'm being told my opinion doesn't matter because it's actually just for kids."

At the end of the day yeah, any creator has the right to change up old franchises to their heart's content — and often times those changes do exceedingly well. Personally, I'm very glad they exist. But if they do badly, if the original spark is discarded, if there's no new and epic spark to replace it, if there's confusion about who is even allowed to criticize the story (is it really for kids?) then those creators shouldn't be surprised when there's pushback. They knew what they were signing up for. They deliberately picked those beloved franchises because of the nostalgia. The flipside of that is, if they get it wrong, adults will criticize the show rather than praising it like they'd hoped.

#mymetas #long post #very long #sorry idk why #but the readmore won't go in :/

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softhxtch · 3 years

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TITTLE: FBI Charity Blind Date Night SUMMARY: For last four years FBI has been organizing a lot of events for charities. One of them are blind dates. This year Emily, Penelope and Derek decided to join in with Hotch’s name. Let’s just say, that at first he’s not the happiest person in the world. PAIRING: female! reader x Aaron Hotchner CHARACTERS: reader, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia (at the beginning), Angela, Olivia (OCs), Daivd Rossi and Spencer Reid (literally mentioned once) WARNINGS: none (?), it’s just fluff and cuteness, I mean they go to the hospital, nothing bad happens, but be aware of errors and mistakes. ALSO in this story Jack is not born, not sure why just thought it would fit better. ALSO2: CAC - Crimes Against Children Unit WORD COUNT: 4,5K A/N: i’ve had a long break from writing and with this new year I decided to break it. there’re probably a lot of mistakes, so feel free to correct me. english is not my first language and i’m doing this just for fun!

'Did you send everything correctly? Are you sure?', Emily asked looking over Penelope's shoulder. She tried to keep up with whatever blonde woman was doing, but it was hard since she was moving so fast with her work.

'Yes! Who do you think I am?', Penelope answered with raised voice. Her head was shaking but eyes still glued to the screen. 'Can't you just trust me?'

'I do, we all do. But don't you think it's weird, that we still didn't get anything from-', Emily argued, but didn't even finish the sentence as her work phone started to make sound. She quickly picked it up with short 'hello' and was listening to whoever was on the other side. Her face was slowly changing as more and more words were going through the phone. Emily's eyebrows were risen and eyes bigger, scanning the room around her. Finally she nodded quickly and after adding short 'of course', she put the phone down. 'Hotch wants to see us.', Emily explained.

'Oh god.', was all Penelope could say. She stood up quickly, putting her laptop down on Emily's desk. 'I guess he got the message. Today's the day we die.', she added as dark haired woman also stood up, nodding

'Come on, Derek. You're going with us.', Emily pointed at him, raising her eyebrow.

'Me? I didn't even do anything!', man defended himself.

'It's all your fault anyway. You came up with the idea. Come on.', she added.

'Fine, but to be fair it's our idea. You're as much in it as I am. Just so we're clear.', Derek pointed out, as Emily rolled her eyes. 'Let's go.'

Derek's words were like a signal, because after that all three of them moved towards the Chief's office. They knew it was coming sooner or later. They would be called to see Hotch, he probably would be angry at what have they done, maybe furious and that's it. Maybe they would get more paper work to do. But it was unavoidable, Hotch would find out sooner or later. And some like Derek would prefer it to be sooner, but some like Emily or Penelope - later.

Derek was the one to lead the way to Agent Hotchner's office, with two women right behind him. He knocked two times one the door and opened them after hearing 'come in' from inside. Aaron was sitting in his chair, focused on papers in front of him. Pen in one hand, tracing text that for most people was really hard to understand.

All three agents looked around just to see any signs, that they could help. They paid a lot of attention to the big desk with a lot of papers on it, but everything was the same. Nothing too suspicious, but then in front of there were three chairs. Not one or two as usual. Like especially for them.

'Everything's okay?', Penelope was the first one to break the silence.

'Yes.', Aaron’s answer was short as he looked up from his papers with a raised brow. 'Is there a reason why something's should not be okay?'

'No. Of course no, sir.', blonde woman laughed as all three of them walked more inside the room.

'You wanted to see us?', Emily asked, her voice was quieter than usual.

'Did I?', Aaron answered back with an questions, putting his pen down. All three of the agents looked at each other with confused faces.

'Emily said-'

'What exactly did Emily said?', he asked. Aaron tilted his head, waiting for an answer. His face was stoic and stern as usual, very hard to read for any of them.

'Emily said you wanted to see us.', Derek answered. His eyebrows were furrowed, with thousands thoughts going through his mind per second. He was very much present when dark haired woman got the phone call, but all of the sudden he wasn't sure about it anymore. Maybe she heard something different? Or mixed up his words?

Hotch just nodded slowly. He moved his eyes from Derek to Emily, who was confused with this whole situation. She knew what he said, but just to be one hundred percent sure she went through the short conversation they had, like fifty more times.

'You said, and I quote, 'I want to see you in my office as fast as you can'.', Emily said slowly, her hands in front. It's like she was trying to calm herself down from this confusing situation.

'Exactly. I didn't specify who 'you' is.', man sitting in the chair said, like it was the most obvious thing on the world.

'Oh my God.', Penelope said, waving hands in front of her face as if she was trying to stop the tears. You could visibly see Emily's shoulders going down, her letting out breath she was holding for a long time. Derek just let out quiet laugh and shook his head.

'But since all three of you came here, then I guess something's happened.', he added, putting his hands together on top of the desk. 'You did something, that you know you shouldn't do and now you're just waiting for the consequences. That's why all three of you came here together.'

'I thought we weren't suppose to profile each other.', Derek said.

'Yes, especially when not everyone in the room is a profiler.', Penelope added with a firm nod.

'Garcia, you don't need to be a profiler to see all three of you having weird conversations, barely working in the office and basically being constantly out of place.'

'We didn't do anything wrong.', Derek said, pointing at all three of agents.

'Okay.', Aaron said quickly nodding. 'But next time when you put name that isn’t yours somewhere, you make that person is aware that you're doing this. And they give you their consent.'

'We didn't put anyone's name anywhere', Emily finally said something after, what felt like, hours of standing in their boss's office.

'Agent Hotchner, we write to thank you for joining our 4th annual FBI Charity Blind Date Night. Don't worry we'll make sure to choose precisely your date, just they way you put it in our questionnaire. Thank you so much and see you in February!', man read the email he got few hours ago.

‘You don’t have any proof, that it’s us, sir.’, Penelope said, her voice cracking at the end. Derek just sighed and closed his eyes, knowing how screwed up they are. ‘Anyone could do this!’

‘True, but you three are on the first place.’, he said like it was something obvious. The rest just looked a bit confused how they were first suspects, which made older man sigh. ‘The next one was Rossi, but he’s been out of town for the last few days. In the past he tried to set me up for few dates, but I don’t think he would do it through blind date, that you have to do questionnaire before. Who’s next?’, he asked, making his thinking face for a second, before continuing. ‘JJ? She has her own life and two kids to take care of. I don’t think she would have time to play with something like this. Oh and on top of that, she doesn’t put herself in someone else’s business. The last one is Reid and we all know, that he didn’t do it.’

‘But you have no proof, that all of us did it.’, Penelope started. Her hands were shaking and she started rambling, not knowing how to get out of that situation.

When Derek and Emily came to her with this whole idea of putting their boss in a blind date she didn’t know what to think about it. She thought that maybe it was a good thing. After divorcing Haley and breaking up with Beth, Hotch didn’t do much dating, or at least that they knew about. And Penelope thought that someone like Aaron Hotchner deserves to be happy. He deserves to laugh with someone who he likes and is not necessarily in a team or a friend of his. She wanted him to have a person, who would be with him in tough times and would take care of him when he needed it. Hotch is a tough person, but Penelope Garcia strongly believed, that there’s a person in this world who would understand him. He just needed to start looking and if she could help, she would do it.

Of course there’s also a lot of guilt, because whether she liked it or not, she was messing with his boss’s personal life. And how would they even tell Hotch about the fact, that they put him into FBI blind date. Penelope knew he would be furious and angry. So this kind of reaction was weird for her. Hotch wasn’t screaming, showing any anger. Nothing. Maybe a little annoyed, but that’s it.

‘Penelope.’, Derek started, trying to make her stop. She was only making it worse, by digging the topic.

‘You can be mad at us all you want, but a date would be a good thing for you.’, Emily started, making Hotch raise his eyebrows. Derek just groaned in the back, wishing for it to be over. ‘You know, sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone.’

‘My comfort zone?’, he repeated.

‘Yes.’, dark haired girl answered. She put her hands together in front of her, not knowing where she’s exactly going with this conversation. ‘You have to go out sometimes, Hotch. Have conversation with someone, that’s not us. Have a meal, that wasn’t pre made months ago, drink wine and make jokes. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll meet someone wonderful.’, she ended, going closer and closer to the man as she was going on with her speech.

‘I’m not in a mood for a relationship, Prentiss.’, Aaron shook his head, putting some papers together on his desk.

‘That’s why we put you on a ‘friendship list’. It means, that you’re there as a friend and for chairty, not really looking for a lover.’, Penelope said quickly, stepping forward towards Emily.

‘The answer is still ‘no’, so please cancel my application.’, he shook his head, looking at the papers in his hands. When he hear any movements or complaint from the three agents in the room, he looked at them again. ‘I will pay the charity in return. And I guess you had to put some money into it too, so I will pay it off. But please withdraw my name from the list.’

‘But sir.’, Penelope started again, bringing his attention. ‘Maybe you should consider what Emily’s said. You know, new experiences.’, she added with nervous laugh.

‘So what’s the bet about?’, Hotch asked, leaning back with curious face.

‘If you go Rossi said, that he’ll do our reports for a month.’, Emily said after few seconds of debating if she should actually say anything else.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘We have to do this for a year.’, Derek admitted.

‘Please, Hotch.’, Emily begged, coming closer to his desk and leaning on it. She looked into his eyes for few seconds, trying to get some mercy from him. ‘I’m still half way through Reid’s reports from last month. I can’t lose this one!’

‘Well, you should’ve thought about this before going into another bet.’, Aaron answered, trying to keep his stern face, but Derek saw one side of his lips rising for a split of a second. ‘Now like I said, withdraw my name from that list and please go back to work. All of you. You can go and please close the door.’, he added. After finishing the sentence he went back to his paper, waiting for them to leave and when they did, he just couldn’t stop himself from small smile.

'I thought you wanted to go.', Angela said as we entered my office. She had one of the flyers of the charity events that she took from the entrance to the FBI building.

'Yeah, I did. But half of kids at the kindergarden are sick, I have a feeling, that Olivia is next.', you said, putting bag on the desk. You turn around to your friend and gave her apologetic smile. 'And I don’t wanna leave my sick child with my sister-in-law. She already helps me enough.'

'I'm sorry.', Angela just said, not knowing how to actually react. 'I know, that after last year you wanted to go.'

'Yeah, it sounded pretty fun.', you nodded. 'Plus it would be nice to finally get a kiss on the lips. Or talk to someone in full sentences.'

'Excuse me?', Angela joked, pointing at herself.

'Outside of this office.', you shook head, letting out quick chuckle.

'Someday you'll find someone. I'll make sure of this.', she said, coming closer to you. She stopped for a second and gave you quick hug, trying to make you feel better.

'It'll be kind of hard. Usually when they find out, that I have three year old child, they run. If they don't, then they get scared when I tell them I work for the FBI. And when I go on a date with agent they usually do this, because I'm a Unit Chief and have connections with a lot of important people here.', you explained with a sigh. 'I was excited for this blind date not only for meeting new people, but also because we will be on the same position. I won't be used and person who will be choosen for me would understand where I come from.'

'I know.', she said truthfully, caressing your shoulders. 'You know what? Screw it. I'll take care of Olivia.'

'Really?', you said shocked about the proposition. You knew, that Angela was the last person on earth who would offer herself to take care of kids. It's not like she hated them, just she's not the best with them. Mainly the youngest ones. But kids found their ways to her. Especially Olivia. She always loved being next to Angela and you could be sure, that she would be happy to have her as a babysitter for few hours.

'But it's just this one time.', Angela reminded, putting one of her fingers in front of your face. You immediately agreed and hugged her as a thank you.

'So? How do I look?', you asked after walking to the kitchen. You looked at both Angela and your daughter sitting at the dinning table, consuming their supper. Your friend made circles with her fingers, asking you to turn around so she could see the back of the dress.

When the email with the set up date finally came, you were the most excited since you could even remember. It was something you looked forward to for days or maybe even weeks now. Nobody in your team didn't know about this, except Angela. And she also was very excited for you. Whenever you had breaks from cases, she would come with new ideas for a dress or make up. And even though she'd be brushed off, you actually liked it.

For a long time you had no idea what to wear. Should it be something less formal? Or full on glam outfit? But when Angela came to you with a picture of navy bodycon dress, you knew it's the one. She advised you to wear it with simple black sandals and light make up, adding darker lipstick.

'Mommy! You're so pretty!', Olivia exclaimed from her chair. She still had her mouth full from the sandwich, that you made her few minutes ago. You could see her be really excited about this night, not because you're going out, but mainly that she's gonna be playing with Angela.

'Thank you, sweetheart.', you skilled, coming closer to them. 'I'm gonna be out for few hours and you're gonna be with aunt Angela, okay?', you explained, playing with her hair. Little girl nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. Then you stood up facing your friend. 'Okay I should be back before midnight. If I don't call you and I'm not home, then you can track my car or phone.'

'Of course, as always.', she said with a wink, which made you laugh.

'And remember, if anything happens - call me. You've been in this house so many times, so you know where everything is. But if you're unsure or Olivia does something, call me okay?', you said, raising a brow.

'Hey! Don't use your 'I'm your boss' voice!', she said, putting finger in front of your face, which made you laugh.

'That's actually my 'mom' voice.', you shook your head.

‘Doesn’t matter. Just go before you’re late.’, she said, pushing you out of the room. ‘Remember it’s really bad to be late for a date, but it’s just awful to be late on a date with FBI agent.’

Aaron was sitting in one of three restaurants, that bureau offered to cover the expenses in. He told Penelope and Emily many times to pick the table somewhere in the corner, where he and the person who was a match to him wouldn’t be in a center of attention. It was a really long time since he went on a actual date or even out with someone, that’s not on his team. For a really long time he hated this whole idea. But the one night he was sitting in his flat with a glass of whiskey and thought, that maybe, but just maybe, it’s a good idea. That maybe Emily was right?

‘I’m really sorry, I’m late.’, female voice took Aaron out of his thoughts. He looked up, expected to see someone familiar, but that wasn’t the case. He thought, that maybe it would be someone that he knew. It definitely would be easier, than starting from zero.

But even if Aaron didn’t know personally the person he’s meeting, maybe he could just recognize the face? Place it with unit, that they’re working in or at least department. But as you appeared it didn’t ring any bell. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, which made you immediately confused and started looking around.

‘You’re from FBI, correct?’, you asked, pointing at him and then at the back, getting more and more nervous. ‘The woman in front told me to go to table number eight. And that’s it, but maybe I said something wrong and she didn’t understand-’

‘I am.’, Aaron said immediately, standing up from his seat. ‘I was just expecting someone-’

‘Different?’, you asked, smiling a bit.

‘No, no!’, he answered right away with his hands in front, like he was trying to stop you from something. ‘Someone, that I know.’, he ended, explaining.

‘Oh, of course.’, you nodded. ‘I’m Y/N Y/L/N.’, you extended your hand with greeting, after what seemed like liftime in silence.

‘Aaron Hotchner.’, he answered, shaking your hand gently. Then he motioned to the table. You just nodded as both of you sat down. ‘Which department are you from? Sorry to be put it so bluntly, I just don’t think I’ve ever met you in the bureau.’

‘CAC.’, you answered, looking up from the menu. ‘I came here from New York few months ago. Got offered Unit Chief position, better salary - guess didn’t have to think through it twice.’, you shrugged.

‘That explains a lot.’, Aaron said with small nods. You just raised a brown, silently asking the same thing he did few seconds ago. ‘I’m from BAU.’

‘Oh ‘The Dream’ unit.’, you said. The statement made Aaron very much confused. ‘When I arrived in Quantico, there were actually quite a lot of changes and I had to hire new agent to my team. And about half of them started the interview with ‘well my dream is to be in BAU, but this unit could be a good start’.’, you explained.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. More of a complement. It’s very rare, that most of agents, that want to work in a field also want to work in your team. And I’ve also heard only good stuff about BAU.’, you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

In fact this was the last time your conversation went to the topic of work. As soon as some of the comments, that either one made, were about work, you immediately would change the topic. You promised yourself, and Angela of course, that today won’t be about work. It’ll be about having fun and going out with not-so-stranger.

Aaron saw the effort that you made and he actually really liked it. No work, no phones, no cases, no murders. Just the two of you, great food and wine, that he didn’t even drink yet. He didn’t expect it but he was actually having a good time. So this one time he would answer his previous question: Emily Prentiss was, in fact, right.

‘Excuse me for a second.’, you said, hearing vibrations of your phone from the bad. Aaron just nodded, understanding as you opened bag and looked for phone. When it was found, you immediately opened it and panicked right away.

3 missed calls

2 unread messages

9:39 I know I was supposed to call only when there’s an emergency, but I think it is.

10:21 We’re going to ER.

‘Everything’s okay?’, Aaron asked, observing very closely your reactions.

‘I-I have to go.’, you said stuttering. You picked your bag and coat, wanting to leave as fast as you can. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘What happened?’, he stood up quickly. He grabbed you by the arm, stopping from leaving the room.

'My daughter is in a hospital. And my friend, that's babysitting her won't tell me what happened.', right away the worst scenarios came to your head. What's could actually happen, that the two of them had to go to the emergency room? Did she broke a bone? Or just hit herself and needed few stitches? Or maybe she fell down the stairs and is unconscious? The questions, that were driving you crazy.

'Let's go.', Aaron just nodded and took you out of the restaurant, after paying for the whole meal.

'Wait, no. I can't ask you to come with me. I've already ruined your evening.', you shook your head as Aaron was taking you to his car.

'Don't worry about it. We can do it on a different day.', he waved you off, getting into his car. The comment caught you off guard a little. And you didn't even realize, that you were still standing on the streets until Aaron knocked on the window, getting your attention.

'Sorry.', you whispered, getting inside. He just started the engine and drove as fast as he could to the hospital that Angela land Olivia were at. 'Wait. Different day? We'll meet on a different day?', you asked, thinking about the whole conversation from few minutes ago. He laughed at how at first you didn't realize what he meant.

'If you want of course.', Aaron explained, getting slow nod from you. It was still funny for him how long it took you to get through it all. 'Look, I'm not a parent, but I can just assume, that your daughter comes first for you.'

'True.', you agreed.

'So, I could make huge scene about how you literally stormed out of our date.', he continued to explain his thoughts. 'Or just understand where you come from and help you.'

'Thank you.', you said, looking at him for the first time since you walked inside the car.

'No problem.', he said with a smile.

If it wasn’t for Aaron, you would probably be panicked, running around the hospital. Well, you still were panicked and scared of what exactly happened, but he made you a bit calmer. Told you to step back and he was asking all questions of where to go and what happened.

After twenty minutes the two of you ended up of third floor. Your heart was beating so fast, searching for either Angela or Olivia, but you couldn’t see them anywhere.

‘Y/N, you have to calm down. It won’t help-’, Aaron started, grabbing your arm. You stopped, but didn’t look at him, only scanning the room. And then you saw it. Familiar dark hair and the handbag you bought her for Christmas.

‘Angela!’, you called her name, bringing the attention. Woman turned around and let out deep breath, being visibly relieved.

‘Oh my God!. You’re finally here. I didn’t know how long I could keep her attention. She was constantly asking for you.’, Angela said. Then she looked behind you, seeing Aaron running after you. ‘Sorry for ruining the night.’, she whispered.

‘It’s okay.’, you shook your head. ‘What even happened? I leave you for few hours and you end up in hospital.’

‘We just were having fun.’, she explained and you just raised a brow. ‘Okay, we were playing tag. And then Olivia got tired, so we sat down on your bed. Then obviously she wasn’t tired anymore and started jumping up and down on your bed. And she asked me to join her, so I did. And then it broke.’, she started talking very fast and chaotic.

‘You broke my bed?’, you asked as if that was the only thing you could make out of whatever she said.

‘But I didn’t mean it. I tried really hard.’

‘And where’s Olivia now?’, you asked, trying not to get angry.

‘They took her to a cat scan. Doctor said, that her arm is probably broken.’, Angela explained, seeing you get more and more annoyed. ‘Anyway, nurses asked for legal guardian or parent, so I’m gonna go and tell her, that you’re here.’

You nodded and let her go. Your eyes were closed and head hanged down for few seconds. Were you angry? Yes. Were you annoyed? Yes. But your daughter was fine. She was alive and even though having a toddler with broken arm won’t be fun thing, you’d take it.

‘Again I’m sorry.’, you turned around to Aaron. He was still standing behind you, just watching the whole situation. ‘I won’t hold you up anymore, you can go. Thank you for everything.’

‘It’s not a problem for me to stay. If you-’, he said, coming closer to you.

‘You’ve done a lot for me today. Beside we have work tomorrow. So let it just be one of us who’s gonna stay up all night.’, you cut him. Aaron just nodded, understanding everything.

‘So, until next time?’, he asked, slowly taking few steps back.

‘That would be amazing.’, you answered. But then realized something. ‘Hey, but I don’t have-’, you started and put hands in coat pockets. Then felt something in one of them. You took it out and made on ‘oh’ sound as you read: Aaron Hotchner, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis Unit with phone number. You looked up to look at him one last time. Aaron just shot you a huge small and waved before turning around and going to the elevators.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds scenario #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fan fiction #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi

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sexbirthdeaths · 3 years

Text

if i had an orchard

ship: morgan x garcia

summary: penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. with each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. and he can’t look away.

warnings: mentions of minor character death (hank morgan, the boy morgan finds in the junkyard), episode 3x09 “penelope”, rotting fruit/maggot imagery, religious imagery, implied murder (boy in junkyard), toxic masculinity

words: 3000

Derek is eight when his dad takes him camping for the first time. It’s the summer of 81, Sarah is entering middle school and Desiree is about to start Kindergarten, so after all of the stress of school applications, Hank proposes they just go out, enjoy the sights of Illinois.

So they go to Buffalo Rock, and he loves it, loves the smell of nature and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He plays soccer with his dad by the campsite whilst Sarah burns through her summer reading list and Desiree cries because she doesn’t like the bugs and she’s too small to play with the boys, and it’s the best summer of his life.

One night, his father pulls a bag of apples from the rucksack, suggests they bake them in some tinfoil over the fire. So while Fran puts Desiree away to bed, Hank sits him down by the campfire and shows him how to pare an apple with a penknife. Slow, using his thumb to stabilise the blade, careful not to cut his finger.

He cuts it straight through the core, hands Derek one of the slices to parcel up carefully in tinfoil. And once those are on the flames, he gives him the knife, another apple from the bag.

“Be careful,” Hank guides him slowly, hand hovering over Dereks’ own, “You don’t want to cut yourself.”

Derek peels it clean and precise, he’s always been a bit of a perfectionist like that. But when he cuts down the core of the apple, and the two pieces fall away in his palm, something is wrong. Very wrong.

His hand retracts in an instant, sends the apple flying, maggots spilling onto the ground into a writhing mass. His stomach is churning, twisting itself in disgust at the sight, and his father stomps it with his boot.

“That one was rotten,” Hank says, pulls the knife from Derek’s hand, “No good. It’s no good.”

Even when the apples are done baking, he can’t stand the sight of them, can’t stomach it after seeing the rotten fruit.

“Tenderness is a sign of rot,” Hank informs him as he eats his slices, “They shouldn’t be soft. That’s how you know they’re bad.”

And he takes that sentiment with him. Even when his father dies, especially when his father dies. He doesn’t cry at the funeral, he starts lashing out at anyone and everyone because to be soft is a sign of rot, of corruption at the core, it makes you undesirable and unwanted and sickening. Keep the toughest rind and you will come out the other side strong.

So he picks fights, even with the kids he knows will beat him. He’s always been a tall kid but Rodney has always been taller, stronger, but to turn the other cheek is a soft man’s path, and Derek Morgan is not soft.

He picks fights and he loses them, comes home battered and bruised and his mother will fuss over him, press a bag of frozen peas to his eye and sing him to sleep. She doesn’t care if he’s too old for it, he’ll always be her son. And even when the pain runs more than skin-deep, crawls through his veins and writhes like a maggot, sickly and decay-drawn, she will cradle his body like he isn’t crumbling from the inside out.

When Derek is 11, it’s the first Thanksgiving since his dad died. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Sarah and Fran work on dinner, and Desiree’s out in the backyard with the neighbour’s kids. His grandparents aren’t coming this year, something about the Chicago winters being cruel on their arthritis.

There’s a faint layer of snow already beginning to settle outside, and he can see the constellations of snowflakes in Desiree’s hair as she finally bids the neighbours farewell and comes tumbling inside, ready to bound up the stairs.

“You promised you’d help me with the apple pie,” Sarah chides as she scoops Desiree up in her arms. The girl laughs loud and gleeful, the first real laugh since the day began, wriggles as she tries to escape her older sister’s grip. Desiree is a big girl now, 6 years old and wide-eyed and too mischievous for her own damn good, and she’s too big now for Sarah to pick her up with ease but she tries anyway.

Derek steps out, takes Desiree from Sarah’s grasp and slings her over his shoulder, grinning at the shrieks he hears.

“Come on, Des,” He laughs, “You promised!”

So, whilst his mom cooks the turkey and the mash and the myriad of thanksgiving side dishes, the three Morgan children converge in the living room, and work on the apples. Sarah peels them and Derek slices them, and Desiree just watches with her big brown eyes and pretends she's helping, because Lord knows no one trusts her with a real knife.

When they’re done there’s a pile of peels in a bowl. Their mom takes it, a sparkle in her eye.

“You know,” she says, grinning and setting down her knife, “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you throw the peel behind your shoulder, it will spell your husband’s name.”

Desiree and Sarah dissolve into giggles. Desiree’s too young to know what true love like that really feels like, too young to be thinking about marriage and life as an adult. And Sarah’s approaching it closer and closer with each passing day, she’s had her heart broken by careless boys to want nothing but a guarantee that the next boy will be the one.

So they take the peels and throw them. Desiree’s looks sort of like an L from the right angle, and Sarah’s is an A, if you use a bit of imagination, and Derek doesn’t get anything because he refuses to try it.

“That’s for girls,” he scoffs, puffs his chest up like a proud robin all red and strong.

“You’re impossible,” Is the response he gets.

When he is 15 he finds a boy’s body in the junkyard. All battered and bruised and broken and he wishes he could press a bag of frozen peas to his head like his mother had done, tell this boy it would all be okay. But it won’t be okay, and the case is never solved because the police don’t seem to care for kids like Derek or the boy, seem for focused on pinning things on them than catching their killers.

When he sees the policeman shake the community centre owner’s hand, Derek knows his killer will not be caught.

He goes door to door and pools up enough money to buy a headstone, and he visits it whenever he can, touches the cool rock and feels himself break. And he doesn’t know this boy, know his face or his name, but they feel connected. Through space and time and tragedy, maybe in another life they were friends. Maybe in another life it was him, and he would be the one rotting in the ground.

Move forward a few years and he feels like something inside of him is broken. Like he’s been torn apart and stitched back together again but something went wrong in the process. He feels moldy, he thinks one day as he’s filling out college applications, disgusting. If he could he’d rip all his skin off and scrub himself spotless. But this runs deeper than skin.

He gets the football scholarship, and his mother cries when he reads the letter because her baby is going to Northwestern and he’s gonna be something great, bigger than himself, he’s gonna change the world. And the success feels like the pinprick in the lid for him, like he can finally breathe as there’s a chance for him to go. Leave those rotten parts of him behind.

After college and the Chicago department, he finds himself starting in the BAU. The team is pretty small - Hotch is a hard-ass and Gideon is, well, Gideon, and the liaison stays in her office too much for Derek to really know who she is, but the BAU feels right for him. Gideon’s got some kid on his radar and so does Hotch, but they’re both so frustratingly secretive that he has no clue who they could be.

He fits right in like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for so long, takes on a role as the ladies’ man and the handsome coworker who flirts with you over coffee, but also the guy who’ll sit with child victims for hours to make sure they’re alright. Hotch hasn’t booted him yet so he figures he’s doing something right.

And then he meets her.

Penelope Garcia, she introduces herself as, and she’s so unlike any girl he’s ever met before with her long, dark hair and she acts like she’s the smartest person in the room (and after a few hours interrogating her, he figures that sentiment isn’t too far off). She’s got these big curious eyes and glittery pink acrylics and he can see the person that sits behind the dark facade.

They don’t hit it off, at first, because he’s proud and she’s defensive and he has a job to complete, but then Hotch informs him of the deal that’s been made, so he better start trying to get along with her. She gets along great with JJ, they eat lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ and JJ’s finally starting to open up a bit more, actually talks to Derek at the coffee machine in the mornings and asks how he’s been. Before, she’d talk to him, or Hotch, or Gideon even, with strained words and avoiding eye contact.

The first time he calls her babygirl is the first time he sees her properly flustered, cheeks red and stammering as she types away at her keyboard and Hotch gives him the mother of all death glares because they’re trying to run an FBI investigation here, Derek. But it makes him smile, seeing her all blushed pink, and he decides he likes it.

She pretends she doesn’t struggle sometimes, and he sees it. The mass of figurines and posters in her office are just a distraction technique - he’s well versed in those - and he knows just how taxing it must be for her, seeing all those awful things. She loves and she loves like it’s the only thing she knows how to do, full-bodied and all in, and some days he wonders if she’s really capable of hatred at all.

“How can you do it? How do you deal with it all?” She asks one day over coffee, voice small and sad. She’s seen some awful things over the past few days, and he wraps her up tightly in her arms. The worst thing is - he doesn’t know what to say. For as long as he can remember, he’s just been pushing it away and ignoring it. Letting it sit inside him and simmer, rip him from the inside out and just pray he’ll be able to pick up the pieces once he finally falls apart.

Things shift, change, over the years as people come and go. There’s a new kid, one Gideon’s been raving about for months who’s finally gotten all the necessary qualifications, even if some exams had to be waived. And he gets hurt, gets hurt bad, and Derek wonder’s if that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because it isn’t long before Gideon leaves. There’s a new man in his place and they’re still trying to trust him, but he just isn’t Gideon, he isn’t the mentor and the peacekeeper and the caretaker that they’ve all grown to need.

Penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. With each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. And he can’t look away.

She has a date. She has a date and he doesn’t know why there’s this ache in his chest, like something’s been scraped out from him and left him hollow. But it’s her choice, he figures, he doesn’t own her. And then he gets the phone call.

Shot, he hears Hotch say over the phone, voice crackled and rough, and it’s like everything in him shuts down. Like someone’s ripping him apart limb by limb. That motherfucker. He will not know kindness from me. Do you need me? He asks, but Hotch just sighs.

She needs you.

And he’s driving to the hospital but he’s so pissed he can barely even focus, consumed by the rage bubbling within him, he wants to find that son of a bitch and make him feel a thousand times what Penelope felt. His skin is itching like thousands of maggots are crawling across him, it’s so overwhelming.

He feels rotten, like he’s so full of pain he can barely breathe, and his cheeks are wet and he doesn’t know why they are until he reaches up to touch them, realises he’s crying.

Men like Morgan do not cry. It’s a sign of weakness, he thinks, and you cannot afford to be weak. Not here, not now, you have never been safe enough to be weak. You bottle it up and ignore it, because to be soft is to be rotten.

He flashes his badge to the hospital receptionist and she informs him with pitying eyes that Penelope is in emergency surgery, that he can wait until she’s out and hear the verdict. So he collapses into the waiting room chairs, unable to look at the others, waits for Penelope to be okay.

Waiting lasts a century. All he wants is to take her in his arms and let her know she’s going to be okay, but he can’t. He can’t even guarantee that it will all be fine, because from what he’s heard it’s a bad wound from a good shot and it’s not looking good.

See, Penelope is an apple tree. She gives and she gives and she asks for nothing in return but a spot in the sun and a love her body has been starved of for years. And all Derek wants is to drown in blossom petals and cider, to drown himself in her warmth. All she asks for is to be loved, and that bastard didn’t even try. Derek will try, he will try and he will pray to a God he does not even believe in (Goddamnit he’s trying, he’s trying) if it means he can love her, if it means that she will be there to receive his love.

When the surgeon comes back, gives them the news, everything in him relaxes. Like the tightly-wound coil of a music box as the lever is finally released. She’s okay, she will be okay, no one must die today.

Her makeup is gone, hair a knotted mass, she’s traded out the bright clothes and heavy jewellry for a hospital gown. And she’s as breathtaking as ever, and Morgan can’t look away. He wants to reach out and hold her hand, press his forehead against hers, let her know that he’s here and everything is going to be okay, tell her how glad he is that she’s alive.

“You really love her, huh?” JJ asks with a smile, looks up at Morgan with a piercing, knowing gaze once they file out of the room, split up the group. She’s cradling a to-go coffee cup in her hands and disshevelled - she’d been the first one at the hospital, been in charge of letting everyone else know.

It’s JJ that knows Penelope the best, if not Derek. She knows the ins-and-outs of their relationship, she can see what they’re too scared to say to eachother. Love, he thinks, this is what this is.

“I do.” He nods.

“So tell her- show her, god knows she needs you right now.”

He waits until the others have left Penelope’s hospital room. The thing is - he flirts with her all the time, has himself branded as a ladies man, but it’s been so long since he’s had something real. He’s always been too afraid to show that tender side that a relationship requires.

But he’s tired of holding back. Penelope softens him, turns all his harsh edges hazy, makes his heart wrench in his chest. He has forgotten what it means to be rotten.

So he sits himself at the edge of her bed, doesn’t care if any of the others can see him through the window, all that matters is here and now.

“I almost lost you,” he says, voice soft, “I was so scared- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you’d gone besides tear the bastard apart.”

He scoots closer, chair handle digging into him as he leans into her. His hand cups her face, feels her warm skin against his cool palm, heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. She’s alive, good god, and she’s here with him, and maybe everything will be okay.

His forehead presses against Penelope’s own and she seems to welcome the movement, twists a handful of his shirt in her grip like she can’t bear the thought of ever letting him go. Derek has never wanted to be loved more than right now, loved by her.

He’d bite the apple for her, Derek thinks, swallow it down seeds and all. Because he loved her, he didn’t care if the fruit was rotten or wretched, damnation was a gift if he was condemned alongside her. He’d run to the edges of the world where all that could reach them was the moon and the stars, and he’d tell Penelope how he hung them just for her.

Kissing her feels like breaking the water’s surface. Being reborn, baptised under her hands, and for what feels like the first time, he can breathe.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds fic #derek morgan fic #penelope garcia fic #derek morgan x penelope garcia #penelope garcia x derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jason gideon #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fanfiction #userpenemily

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kerosene-insomniac · 3 years

Text

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku

Warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, violence, strong language, homosexual behavior, major character death {not bakudeku}

Word Count for Chapter: 3,715 words

Summary: Midoriya Izuku has always wanted to be a musician. Something about the lyric working with a melody to convey his feeling just made his heart race. After his father died when he was three, Izuku has always relied on his mother. She worked two jobs to care for him and always supported his dreams. But when his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer just after he graduated high school, Izuku has to shift his focus. Now he’s working two jobs and takes care of his mother with the help of his gay neighbors.

In an attempt to learn self-defense, Izuku takes a few classes at a local gym. It’s there that he meets Toshinori Yagi, an older beta who used to be a professional heavyweight boxer. Yagi notices Izuku’s potential and encourages the small omega to eventually go pro. So, in order to make more money, Izuku eventually agrees.

Bakugou Katsuki has only ever wanted to fight. Orphaned as the young age of four, Katsuki has been fighting to live for his entire life. Fighting is all he’s ever known. After fighting underground for a couple years, Katsuki is noticed by Todoroki Enji. The older alpha takes him in at 19 and names him the official successor of his legacy (especially since all of his actual kids hate him).

Now, Katsuki is 25-years-old and the professional heavyweight champion.

In a whirlwind of events, Katsuki meets Izuku in the unlikeliest of places. He watches the small omega perform and can’t help it feel extremely protective and absolutely enamored with him. The older alpha gets to meet him and say goodbye without even learning the omega’s name. Katsuki isn’t sure that they’ll ever meet again.

That is, until Katsuki officially meets Izuku at a professional lunch with his manager’s rival.

{OR}

The one where Katsuki is a professional alpha boxer with arrogance issues and Izuku is a stubborn omega that’s way little too reckless with his well-being.

With a wacky cast of characters (including three idiots, a manly best friend, a traumatized bastard with daddy-issues, and many more) absolutely hell-bent on getting them together, neither men can seem to catch a break

{0.5} Icarus

“There are two circumstances that lead to arrogance: one is when you're wrong and you can't face it; the other is when you're right and nobody else can face it.”

― Criss Jami

I Z U K U

“It was nice seeing you after all these years, Enji.”

Izuku mentally groaned as Toshinori kept talking to the overgrown alpha. Their lunch had long since ended, so the small omega just wanted to head across the street and begin his warm-up.

And to get away from Katsuki Bakugou, who had been staring at him since this whole shit-show started.

Endeavor huffed in agreement and glanced in Izuku’s direction. “Your successor seems very headstrong, so I can’t wait to see how he fares today.”

I love that he’s talking like I’m not here.

“He’ll exceed your expectations. Let’s head out, Izuku.”

Izuku immediately relaxed, wagering standing to follow Toshinori out of the restaurant. His dress (which had been forced on him by Uraraka, who said something about looking nice for a certain alpha) brushed against his knees and tickled his legs.

Honestly, he couldn’t leave fast enough.

The small omega followed his teacher towards the exit, nodding respectively in Endeavor’s direction. And Todoroki’s.

When his gaze landed on Bakugou, he simply looked ahead.

The outside air caressed Izuku’s soft skin and made him sigh in relief. Compared to the tension in the restaurant, the slightest amount of breeze felt like a god-send.

“Young Bakugou seems very interested…”

Toshinori’s voice was teasing and affectionate, but Izuku immediately stiffened. There is no way that they were talking about the same alpha.

Izuku hummed lowly, adjusting his jacket. “I disagree, sensei. He seems arrogant and insufferable with a need to prove that he’s stronger than anybody else.”

“I think he’s just concerned for your well-being.”

The small omega huffed, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink as he glanced at his teacher. The idea of an attractive alpha feeling protective over him was flattering yet incredibly infuriating.

Izuku is here for one reason and one reason only.

“Deku! Wait!”

Fucking fuck.

Toshinori stopped and glanced behind them, his face lighting up in amusement. “It seems like someone wants to speak with you, Izuku. Don’t take too long and I’ll see you inside.”

The small omega paled.

Traitor.

His teacher hobbled away, chuckling to himself.

The familiar smell of caramel and cinnamon greeted Izuku’s senses. It was more than comforting, which made the small omega feel slightly mortified.

Izuku sighed in defeat and turned to face Bakugou, who had a less intense scowl on his face. His suit looked messier than before and the alpha appeared as if he had fought someone to catch up with him.

“What do you want?”

Bakugou didn’t even flinch at Izuku’s tone. “Nothing. I just wanted to-“

Izuku cut him off, crossing his arms. “If you’re to lecture me on my own idiocy, then don’t even try. You don’t even know me.”

“I just want to understand.”

That was enough to make Izuku freeze.

Izuku’s chest tightened as he locked eyes with alpha, who looked less angry than he had been during lunch. “There isn’t anything to understand. I’m doing this for the same reason as anyone else.”

Bakugou’s red eyes glinted. “But I’ve seen you perform, Deku. You fucking love music.”

“Stop calling me that.”

The alpha raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “I like that it pisses you off, so no. And don’t change the subject.”

Izuku scoffed. “Why are you so desperate to understand me? You shouldn’t concern yourself with my wellbeing.”

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue.”

Bakugou’s words hung in the air and floated amongst the tension. Izuku was a bright red as they stared at each other, searching for any sign of challenge.

Izuku swallowed thickly, looking away from the alpha. “Look, I’m well aware of the risks. I’ve been boxing underground for over a year and struggling to learn how to protect myself.”

“What if you get bitten, though?” Bakugou’s voice was rough.

The small omega sighed, anxiously rubbing his palm with his thumb. “As I said earlier, they would have to catch me first.”

Bakugou nodded after a moment, still studying him. “I still don’t understand your fucking need to be reckless. I also don’t get how everyone seems so fucking okay with it!”

“It’s not your job to worry about me.”

The alpha chuckled at that. “But someone obviously fucking needs to. I don’t give a shit about what your supposed friends think, but you’re going to be eaten alive tonight.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The small omega hummed and took a few steps forward. Bakugou froze, his breath quickening as Izuku’s face became centimeters away from his own.

I hate that he smells so nice.

Izuku chuckled, pulling away from the surprised alpha. “Then I guess you’ll have to watch. I don’t need your concern and I certainly don’t need your fucking protection, Kacchan.”

Bakugou blinked, still processing. “What the fuck did you just call me?!”

“Kacchan.” Izuku purred smugly, stepping back. “Good luck on your match tonight. Not that you’ll need it, of course.”

The alpha snapped out of his daze, his skin flushing at the compliment. “Hold on a damn second, shitty Deku-“

Izuku ignored him and walked briskly towards the entrance to the venue. His own heart was racing in his chest from the interaction, especially since Bakugou was obviously just as enamored as him.

He glanced back, smirking softly.

“I’ll see you later, Kacchan.”

*********

K A T S U K I

“-and it was like his brain short-circuited.”

“No shit?! I would’ve paid cash to see that!”

“So manly, Bakubro!”

Katsuki growled loudly as his idiots ran around him in circles. Todoroki, who had been re-telling the events of lunch, smirked at him with as much smugness his stupid face could muster.

Nobody was doing their fucking job.

Sero and Mina were supposed to be preparing the med-kit supplies for the match, but they were fucking around and wrapping bandages around Kaminari’s head. Kirishima was supposed to be talking strategy with him, but he was talking excitedly with Todoroki.

And that half-n-half bastard?

He was reveling in Katsuki’s embarrassment.

“I swear to fucking god…” Katsuki huffed, his eye visibly twitching. “I will fucking end each and every one of you if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Everyone froze.

Kirishima laughed awkwardly, obviously trying to ease the tension. “Don’t be so angry, Bakubro. We’re all just excited that you’re finally interested in somebody…”

Katsuki flushed a bright red. “I’m not fucking interested in that shitty nerd Deku! I just don’t want to see a weak bastard get eaten alive!”

“Sure, Blasty, sure.” Mina muttered sarcastically.

Don’t commit homicide.

Sero looked at Katsuki with an indifferent expression, a used roll of bandages in his hand. “You’re acting like being interested is a bad thing. We’re not saying that you wanna fuck the dude, Bakugou.”

Katsuki grumbled loudly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

I totally fucking do, and that’s what’s embarrassing.

“…unless you do…”

The red-eyed alpha clenched his jaw and growled indignantly in Kirishima’s direction. “I totally fucking don’t, Shitty Hair! Who the fuck would even be into a shitty nerd like Deku?!”

Kirishima, Mina, and Todoroki shared a glance.

Sero and Denki simply snorted.

“I thought he was cute.” Todoroki spoke evenly, his eyes challenging Katsuki. “I found his confidence quite attractive.”

Katsuki stiffened, his stomach churning at the idea of Deku and Icy-Hot interacting at all. Red hot jealousy bloomed in his chest and spread like a wildfire throughout his body.

I think the fuck not.

“Someone looks jealous.” Mina sang smugly, making Katsuki scoff.

Todoroki hummed in agreement. “He does. If I wasn’t emotionally invested in an omega from my office, I’d pursue Midoriya out of spite.”

Kirishima perked up at the news. “You’re interested in an omega? Since when?!”

And just like that, the focus shifted.

Katsuki silently got to his feet and walked around the small locker-room. His match wasn’t till the end of the tournament, but he usually watched other matches with Kirishima and critiqued their strategy.

It’s a tradition at this point.

What the fuck happened earlier?

Deku stood so fucking close to him. All Katsuki could smell was chocolate and cherries with the faintest hint of vanilla, which hadn’t been noticeable before. His stupidly cute face was so close that Katsuki could’ve kissed him.

And then he fucking left.

Deku left and turned back with a stupid smirk that screamed sexual innuendos in Katsuki’s direction. He called the alpha a ridiculous name, and Katsuki fucking let him.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Alright, bro. You ready to go watch some matches?”

Katsuki snapped out of his memory-filled daze and grunted in response. “Let’s go watch some losers, Shitty Hair. I need to relax before I kick Togata’s ass tonight.”

Kirishima grinned. “And maybe impress a certain omega?”

“Shut up.”

Both alphas headed out of the locker-room and towards the arena. There was a specific box that Enji rented at every tournament specifically so he could watch. He didn't seem to mind that Katsuki did the same thing.

Even if he did, Katsuki didn’t care.

The sound of screaming fans, alphas and omega alike, immediately made Katsuki cringe. He could barely make out a few words, but he didn’t care enough to process any of them.

In the ring, an alpha female and a beta female were kick-boxing.

We’re still in this part of the tournament.

Good.

“OH FUCK! Hagakure delivers a stunning roundhouse kick!”

Katsuki took a seat a little ways away from Enji and focused on the match. It was Yaoyorozu vs Hagakure. He had seen them in regular boxing, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see them deviate sometimes.

As a beta, Hagakure was shorter and relied heavily on her legs. She was known for being a skilled southpaw, so upper-arm-strength wasn’t out of the question.

Yaoyorozu was one of the few female alphas that Katsuki’s met in his life. She could be jumpy at times, but she also struggled with predicting/preparing for her opponents moves. She relied on her height to get in close and hardly receive any damage to her face.

Katsuki fought her once or twice. She’s definitely skilled.

“I think Hagakure strained her left leg.” Katsuki murmured, watching the way that the beta favored her left side.

Kirishima narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “I think you’re right. Yaoyorozu hasn’t noticed yet, though.”

Katsuki shrugged. “She will. Eventually.”

Sure enough, Yaoyorozu glanced at Hagakure’s feet and her eyebrows furrowed in surprise. As the beta pulled back to land another kick, the female alpha hit her in the face with multiple jabs.

As soon as Hagakure was distracted, Yaoyorozu landed a harsh kick to her left leg and swept them out from under her.

The beta didn’t get back up.

As the crowd and commentator went wild, Katsuki sat back and glanced at Kirishima. “I told you that Ponytail would notice. She’s been training.”

“It’s a good thing that we didn’t bet this time.”

“Yeah. You would’ve fucking lost.”

Before Kirishima could respond, the familiar sound of an intermission rang through the air. They had about ten minutes till the next match, so the sound was to let people know that there was a break.

Katsuki cringed at the sound.

“After our break, we’ll see the professional debut of Midoriya Izuku against a crowd favorite, Monoma Neito!”

And that was enough to make Katsuki freeze.

Oh fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Monoma was an arrogant bastard that Katsuki hates with every fiber of his being. He was an alpha with a history of distaste for omegas, leading to an ever-growing fan base of shitty alphas.

Not only would he hate Deku, but he would try and rile him up the whole time.

This wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“Bakugou? You look pale.”

Katsuki snapped out of his daze and locked eyes with Kirishima. “I’m fucking fine, Shitty Hair. Monoma just pisses me off.”

Kirishima’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to watch, you know? I can just tell you what happened after the match is over.”

“I don’t need your pity. I’m fine.”

“Okay, bro. Whatever you say.”

*********

I Z U K U

“There. Feel tight enough?”

Izuku took his gloved hand away from Uraraka and moved his wrists. “They feel great. Thanks for being here, Uraraka.”

Uraraka grinned brightly, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as she went over Izuku’s things again. “Of course! Iida and I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Deku! Plus, Aizawa threatened to ground us if we didn’t……”

Sounds about right.

“Midoriya! Where is your mouth guard?!”

Izuku glanced over at Iida, who had a professional-looking med-kit in hand. “I put it in my bag…I think…”

Iida sighed and bolted to Izuku’s gym bag, muttering things under his breath. He and Uraraka had been his friends ever since high school, long before Izuku’s mom got sick.

They graduated a little over a year ago.

Now Uraraka is attending University to be a teacher and Iida is studying to be a doctor. Sometimes, the older alpha will come over and give Izuku’s mom a once-over. His family helps out a lot with her treatment.

But not enough.

Which is why Izuku is here in the first place.

“Your mouth-guard is important, Midoriya!” Iida chided, handing the omega a green piece of plastic.

Izuku hung his head, slightly embarrassed that the alpha was reprimanding him. “I was training late last night. After the stuff this morning, I couldn’t remember if I packed it or not.”

Uraraka grinned, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Speaking of which….I saw you and Bakugou in front of the venue.”

Oh god.

“And it seemed pretty flirtatious, Deku.”

Izuku flushed a bright crimson, resisting the urge to hide his face. “It wasn’t flirting! He was just being stupidly overprotective when he didn’t have the right!”

Uraraka smirked. “Alphas tend to be protective over people they care about. Or, in your case, people they are attracted to.”

“I don’t think it’s like that.”

His best friend gave him a look before looking behind him. “Sensei?! What was your impression of Bakugou when you met him?”

Toshinori, who had been talking with a few betas, looked in their direction and grinned as he walked over. “Young Bakugou was very outspoken about his concern with Izuku’s second gender. He’s quite enamored.”

“My point exactly!”

Before Izuku could argue, a female referee appeared in the entrance to the locker-room.

It’s time.

Izuku feels nauseous.

The small omega can hear the crowd screaming as his opponent is announced, but his brain can barely process any of it. His silk robe (an emerald color) clung to his curves and covered his freckled skin.

Since he’s no longer underground, there’s no need for the bunny mask.

Then his name is announced and he’s shoved into the shark-infested water. Izuku focuses his gaze on the ring, acutely aware of his team following behind him in quick succession.

Izuku can feel the disgusted stares among the screaming.

“You’ll do great, my boy.”

Toshinor’s voice was gentle and firm as he made Izuku look at him. He looked proud and confident in his abilities, which made the omega feel better.

Izuku swallowed thickly as his robe was pulled off of him. “I’ll win. For you and for my mom.”

“I know you will.”

Izuku hugged him and turned to enter the ring.

His opponent is a short but burly alpha who was obviously slow on his feet. His blond hair was parted and his pale eyes were full of amused disgust.

“Alright, boys,” The referee crooned, her black hair tied back. “I want a clean and fair fight. No funny business or I will dish out some punishments.”

Izuku nodded, studying the alpha in front of him.

Monoma, however, ignored the omega’s attempt to touch gloves and retreated to his corner. He was smirking in Izuku’s direction, shamelessly checking out every inch of his body.

“And…FIGHT!”

Izuku stepped forward, carefully guarding his face and waiting for Monoma to make the first move. He needed a strategy, above all else.

Monoma smirked. “I didn’t think they’d make it this easy. Omegas can’t fight, doll. It’s a known fact.”

The small omega ignored him, staying carefully light on his feet as they circled each other. It was becoming obvious that Monoma just liked hearing himself talk, so he had to wait for an opening.

“You’re not mated? How pathetic.”

There.

His eyes flicker to the crowd when he talks. He’s speaking loud enough for them to hear, meaning that he wants to put on a show.

Monoma chuckled some more. “What? Too scared to make the first move? I can do this all-“

Izuku lunged and landed a right hook to the alpha’s jaw.

Retreat.

The small omega immediately retreated as Monoma stumbled back in surprise. The crowd fucking lost it, screaming a mix of cheers and curse words.

Monoma huffed, growling lowly in Izuku’s direction.

Then he charged.

Izuku dodged, guarding his face as Monoma initiated an onslaught of jabs and pummels. Sweat gathered on his brow and his breathing sped up as he looked for an opening.

There.

Izuku brought his leg up and kicked Monoma in the gut.

The larger alpha gasped in surprise, but that was the opening Izuku needed. In quick succession, the small omega hit him with three jabs and a left hook.

Not without consequence, though.

“You fucking bitch!!”

Monoma growled loudly and landed a solid left hook to Izuku’s face.

Pressure, pain, and high-pitched ringing erupted from his right side. Izuku grunted in a mix of surprise and pain, immediately retreating to his corner and settling into a guarding stance.

In his confusion, Izuku was attacked from the right side again.

Two kicks and a mix of punches pummeled themselves into Izuku’s stomach, making the small omega choke and gasp.

“Enough! Back off!”

Izuku gasped, still standing upright as the referee pulled Monoma back. He could taste blood in his mouth, but his adrenaline was too high to feel any pain.

My strength is in my legs.

I need to aim my kicks high enough to land on his face. The nose is the most sensitive, so it would be my safest bet.

Izuku hardened his gaze and glared at the alpha in front of him.

Monoma charged, heading straight for Izuku’s right side. This time, however, the small omega was prepared and effectively slipped.

As he ducked under, Izuku moved and delivered a high-kick to Monoma’s face. The alpha choked and stumbled backward, grasping his face as blood immediately started to pour.

Before the alpha can recover, Izuku charges and delivers strikes to Monoma’s jaw.

DING! DING!!

“That’s the bell! To your corners!”

Izuku backed off and retreated to his corner, sweating like a pig and gushing blood from his brow.

He sat down, allowing his team to work.

“You’re doing great, Deku!”

Uraraka’s voice sounded close by as Iida and Toshinori crowded him. The alpha got to work on bandaging his eyebrow as the beta placed the water spout between his bloody lips.

Izuku panted wildly, drinking the water. “He needs to get close to land a hit, sensei. I fucked up his nose, though.”

“You did.” Toshinori supplied, pulling the water away. “Don’t forget to parry. Meet his hits head on.”

Right.

“2nd round! On your feet!”

Izuku took a deep breath and got to his feet. He could see better without the flow of blood in his eyes, so he definitely noticed the look of hatred Monoma gave him.

Monoma looked pissed.

DING! DING!!

“Fight!”

Monoma moved first this time, furiously charging Izuku like a raging bull. Instead of dodging or slipping, the small omega met his kick head on.

Their legs clashed, which Monoma clearly didn’t expect.

Izuku used his body weight to shove the alpha backward, giving himself enough room to land a few side-kicks. He kept his moves fast and precise, knowing that any wasted second could make him lose.

Monoma swung, but he overcalculated.

Izuku dodged and landed a harsh upper-cut to the jaw. He could feel the crunch of bones and teeth, which was more than satisfying.

After that, Monoma didn’t stand a chance.

Before the alpha had a chance to recover, Izuku shoved him back with another side kick and prepared himself to finish the fight.

Roundhouse.

Izuku leaned back and put his entire body weight into the kick itself. He aimed high, specifically for Monoma’s broken nose, and fucking succeeded with a perfect landing. It was fucking perfect!

Monoma crumpled into a heap, completely unconscious.

“That’s a TKO! Midoriya wins the match!”

Izuku stumbled backward as the cheers rang loudly through the air. His right ear was still ringing, but he definitely heard most of them.

As he was swarmed by his team, Izuku glanced upward.

Katsuki Bakugou was watching and yelling animatedly from a private box. His face was red and he looked pumped as he grinned in Izuku’s direction.

That was the last thing Izuku saw before losing consciousness.

*************

******

K A T S U K I

“Holy fucking SHIT!”

Katsuki watched as Deku’s team dragged him out of the ring, but his mind was running a mile a minute.

Despite taking multiple hits, Deku’s form was fucking perfect. Every move he made was carefully calculated and planned, along with a surprising amount of raw fucking power.

It was hot as fuck.

“Did you fucking see that!?” Kirishima was just as hyped as Katsuki, sounding hoarse from the amount of screaming they’d done.

Katsuki nodded, almost breathless as he glanced at his best friend. “I’ve never seen anyone TKO Monoma. I could probably fucking do it too, but Jesus fucking Christ.”

Kirishima met his gaze, smirking.

Oh no.

“He didn’t need your protection after all, bro.”

Katsuki swallowed thickly, shooting a mock glare in Kirishima’s direction before getting to his feet. “Shut the fuck up. Deku may have kicked that bastard’s ass, but he barely held up.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. “And where are you going?”

“I still have a fight to prepare for, dumbfuck.”

***********

#alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha bakugou #omega deku #bottom deku #boxer au #bnha #bakugou x midoriya #bakudeku #bnha crack #bnha fanfiction #bakudeku fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic

17 notes · View notes

kirbyspits · 3 years

Note

I hate how everyone blame mako for makorra being toxic but don’t hold Korra responsible for her role in it too. She accused him of conspiring behind her back, humiliated him in front of his coworkers, yelled at him, and flipped his desk over. Book 2 was a nightmare.

Part 1/2 Asks

Listen, Book 2 is dead to me. When antis say Korra is unlikable in Book 2, I can’t defend her. Korra’s stress and insecurities are so subtle and downplayed, it’s hard to even feel sympathetic towards her. Combative characters don’t normally bother me, but Korra was too much, especially since Mako also had no clue what to do. Korra’s the one who had over a decade of training and had all the old wise teachers.

I only started tolerating their fights after catching one line that helped me understand how Korra spiraled into this raging bundle of blueness. She mentions being “locked up” and people telling her what’s best for her. So my headcanon is all those years in isolation with older men controlling every aspect of her life came to a head, and that took a major toll on her mental health.

Book 2 was a missed opportunity to explore the confusion, loneliness, and isolation that comes with being the Avatar. The fights with Mako could have been more bearable because they’d make more sense, with those issues being the heart of the problem. However, since we already got into most of that in ATLA, I guess Bryke wanted to focus on spirits, the spiritual world, and frankly speaking, breaking up Mako and Korra.

So let’s get into Makorra Book 2, specifically before Mako’s lie, because I have more thoughts about that. Ngl, I’ve been dreading writing about this. I get so frustrated and sad because this could have been a beautiful story about a relationship's trials.

Korra is the one who made the relationship toxic. Trying to keep the peace by downplaying your own opinions and beliefs to avoid making your partner angry isn’t healthy. Walking on eggshells in a relationship is never a good sign, and it’s uncomfortable to watch.

I tend to think people who place all the blame on Mako just don’t like him. Mako was nearly perfect. And I’m not just saying that as a Mako stan. From the beginning, he has done nothing but try his best to support Korra. This is pretty much the pattern during the southern pole arc: Korra vents, Mako responds with what he thinks is supportive feedback. Korra accuses him of taking sides and then shuts the conversation down. Mako is not the problem. At least while he’s in the southern pole. Korra’s responses are extreme, for starters, mostly because we as viewers are not given enough context to sympathize with her and see why she’s upset with Mako. Mako also listens to Korra’s responses in an effort to remedy the situation the next time there’s a disconnect. When Korra shuts down the first time after he offers his outside perspective, Mako changes his approach. The next time Korra vents, Mako responds by telling her he’ll support whatever decision she thinks is right instead of his opinion. Sure, there is a slight difference in the way Korra talks to Mako. The first time, Mako speaks without her asking for his advice on the matter, while the second time, she asks. Only Korra wanted him to voice his thoughts without her giving him the ok based on the dialogue: Korra: “Well?” Mako: “Well what?” Korra: “What do you think I should do?”

No wonder Mako is confused and eventually becomes frustrated. It’s also important to note that Mako doesn’t do anything wrong here unless we’re supposed to blame him for not being a mind reader. In fact, Mako takes it a step further and asks Korra how they should communicate to avoid fighting.

Mako: “Do you want advice, or am I supposed to just listen? Still not clear on that.”

Korra apologizes, but she never answers him, which becomes a problem when they return to Republic City.

Antis love saying how Mako and Korra were so young when they dated and needed to mature first. I love Korra, but sorry she needed to stop suffering from the hands of Bryke, who just wanted the relationship to end mature. Mako’s approach was very satisfying to watch, and he handled the relationship in a way that would have led to something more healthy if extreme events didn’t occur.

Korra was also mean, and Mako is not a punching bag. He wasn’t going to just let Korra insult him. Mako only becomes combative when Korra makes jabs at him. Mako was the one who either diffused the situation if Korra couldn’t walk away. Otherwise, he’d stick up for himself whenever Korra became sarcastic.

One of my favorite lines is Mako saying “I thought you wanted me to be supportive. Now you want to know what I think?!” I’ll admit he might have taken it too far when he told her to make up her mind (you were right Mako, but time and place 😬). That was how he got an air bison plushie shoved into his face. Korra was wrong for that, but I understand why she did it 😅.

Once they got back to Republic City, things became terrible even though Mako and Korra had made up, and I guess Bryke wanted them to go back to square1. Mako finally hit his breaking point and started yelling back. In his comebacks, he threw Korra starting a civil war and messing up the world in her face, something she already felt guilty for. However, these insults were always said in response to Korra demeaning him. You can argue he shouldn’t have fought fire with fire, but again, Mako was at his limit, and Korra was beyond hers.

The most ironic line in their fights is Korra telling Mako, “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” before storming out. I love it because this line really belongs to Mako! He’s the one who can’t talk to Korra and says so!

Even the breakup scene shows Mako starting out as the diplomatic one. His inner Tenzin came out. Korra, on the other hand, basically tried to intimidate him during the confrontation. She first leans over his desk and yells at him for answers. Mako remains seated, explains himself, and Korra doesn’t accept it. Instead, she then kicks his desk out of the way, so there’s nothing in between them. Idk stans, rewatching that scene makes me wonder Korra was actually looking to fight.

Mind you, Korra has every right to be angry. Her feelings are real. This fight was probably the only fight I was ok with because we got to the source of the problem. She felt betrayed by Mako. This was the only time her accusation about Mako choosing sides makes sense. Of course, Mako was put in an impossible situation, dealing with an angry Avatar or being tried for treason. He made the right decision. Korra would forgive him at some point, and no one goes to jail.

Also, I noticed that those who say Mako’s the toxic one conveniently forget he ended the relationship. I also don’t think that he would’ve if Korra didn’t say anything about him getting her way and alluding to choosing sides again. Look at his face:

I’m probably getting into headcanon territory, but I think something broke here. Maybe his heart. For 5 episodes, Mako has been trying to convince Korra that he’s on her side. He wants to help her and support her, but she never believes him. He couldn’t take it anymore it more and honestly, Mako did the best thing for his own mental health. And Korra, after all that talk and gusto, jogs out, and runs away. It’s almost comedic. Siighhh, shipping Makorra, and watching Book 2 is torture!

Still, we have some really sweet moments of our favorite couple, like Mako asking Korra out to dinner 🥰. It’s moments like this that make rewatching Book 2 a little more bearable. Part of me cackles at the idea that Korra and Mako were so in love, it took a war to break them up. Safe to say wars can end any relationship.

#kirbyspits answers #makorra #pro mako #mako #book 2 spirits

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incarnateirony · 3 years

Photo

So here we are, The Great Supernatural Rewatch, 01.01 Pilot. If unfamiliar with this rewatch, please check my Objectives and Bracketing post [x], and then my Methodology Notes [x]; Also, reminder that I’m not the only person doing this, though each in their own ways. My Objectives and Methodology are my own.

I’m trying to get a little ahead of the official Jan 3 start date, since I know I will... inevitably fall behind, and this episode was ripe for the initial pick-through for the inevitability of a thousand call backs.

That said, with level 1. SYNCHRONIC: As it reads, unto itself, as best divorced from future knowledge of the story, it’s difficult to do much actual “meta” as much as review and commentary since literally it’s all character and story introductions. There’s some to be had, but beyond things like lighting, the Level 1 viewing tier is not going to lend towards much beyond basic archetypes, and a lot of mythology breakdown. This post will be heaving Level 2 weighted as a result. Most tier-1 posting is going to be an early build of key words, phrases and signs to assemble throughout the season watching (and tap back on later for tier 2 by tagging.)

Also a few unannounced side projects; I’m about to start a “Combat Counter” and “Marksmanship Counter”, to see how Sam and Dean handle both in physical battles/scraps over time compared to each other, and who has the better overall aim in the long term.

Some things saved in this post will seem random and arbitrary, but are potential flags I intend to keep, mostly for later level 2, DIACHRONIC study.

Now to get to the meat:

STUDY: REWATCH/REVIEW STAGE

Allow me to lead with: this episode even unto itself is a fine spectacle of just how much the genre shifted over time. I am a huge fan of David Nutter’s directing; many would know him from, say, Game of Thrones. He didn’t stay long--just Pilot and Wendigo--before moving on. But some of his touches stayed with the show for a few years. The entire ambiance is a giant testiment to survival-horror, a grimness to it, even if the CW itself could never truly capitalize on it. The mood and ambiance was successfully played on. The entire episode is rife with cloudy lighting beaming between bars and through windows, bold silhouette shots, and more that gives an air of mystery even after some characters are established. Dynamic shots are plenty.

Your early reading here isn’t going to tell you much you don’t already know, but is for filing, review, and even reminder/refresher purposes. As the season unfolds, there’s going to be more to interconnect, obviously. If you would like to read more observations on actual parallels, scroll to the DIACHRONIC STUDY header. If I’ve taken a screenshot, even in Synchronic, it’s because it’s a flag I do expect to come back up in diachronic study later and need to catalogue for future parallels and address.

So, imagining it’s 2005, we’re watching Supernatural for the first time. We’re in a very different world, Both in the show, and in the real world. A standard, haunting discord rattles the minds of the audience as a tree moves like a hand towards the window of a suburban home.

We see a classic, nuclear family in this standard home, saying their charming goodnights to an infant. But within moments, we’re told in every classic way that everything is wrong. The infant’s mobile turns on its own accord; the clock stops.

It’s 8:12pm when the world goes haywire. The decorative moon in the room flickers, growing dim. The mother wakes to the sound of a distressed infant on the baby monitor. She rises from bed in her gown.

This is a point I’m left to negotiate cursed knowledge: to all visual cues, the mother’s attire appears to be white. The audience perceived it as white. But we know it, and Jess’ gown later, was actually pink; the film stock failed to capture it. Both short term and much louder in the long term, these two colors can deliver two very different meanings. But for us, a viewer consuming a digital medium with no knowledge beyond what they published, I’m left to decide that the text seems to determine her in a white gown.

The wife sees a stark silhouette, asking if the child was hungry, assuming it was her husband that quieted her. She turns away, tapping on a flickering light over an old marriage portrait that one can only assume was a previous family generation. She descends the stairs.

Here she finds her husband is sleeping. Panic takes her, bringing her to the room. Quickly, chaos erupts. As does she, once seen bleeding down onto the hand of the father from above the crib. We see her, sunken eyes, already dying, screaming without a sound. Silent. Unable to make a noise.

The camera details the desperation of the father rushing his infant to his older child. “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don’t look back. Now Dean, GO.”

I’m unclear what John thinks he’s going to achieve running back in for Mary as fire takes the home. But soon, he finds young Dean, 4, outside, holding an infant, “I've got you Sammy.” John erupts out of the house as the windows begin to blow, sweeping in to carry Dean, who carries Sam.

As the fire department arrives, the first cords of a song we would later come to recognize as Americana haunt through otherwise chilling music that climbs actively to punch out through our first cold open.

The Winchesters are our first cold open.

We find ourselves in modern day with the rick of a rock cord, and a young woman in a white nurse outfit adjusting her earings while framed by an image of John and Mary--the mother and father--in a picture frame. Though she calls for Sam, we see nothing of Dean--not even a picture. The image on the counter tells of a life Sam(my) was too young to even know, but perhaps is in his blonde-haired woman who teases him about halloween while standing in front of a mirror.

Sam is clearly in his young prime, celebrating his LSAT with a 174 score much to his chagrin with friends dressed up in all styles of wardrobe. Behind Sam a neon black cat sign may just jinx his future in warm but dull lighting; ghostly drapes hide behind Jess in a blue, sharper light.

Sam’s friends perceive he must be the Golden Boy of the family. Jess is proud of him. “What would I do without you?” “Crash and burn.”

Night onsets. Dim lighting feels dusty despite the otherwise hopeful environment. Heavy creaking, groaning, footsteps; Sam rises on instinct, spying an open door and catching haunting noises--sounds. An intruder. And one fateful fight. The choreography spares little.

In actual combat, the intruder--quickly identified as Dean--comes out on top. (Combat ticker: Sam vs Dean: Dean 1) Easy there, tiger. As Dean haunts, revealing his roguish personality quickly, he’s then gotten the better of (this is not going to be considered a combat ticker, it’s not actual combat, but aftermath).

Sam challenges why Dean broke in, but Dean knew Sam would have never picked up without him. They’re interrupted from their silhouetting by the light flicking on, and Dean further displays his roguish charm, enjoying her smurfs, not dreaming of her getting dressed; but soon, it’s down to business--Dean says it’s private family matters. Sam, a unit in the doorframe with Jess, says it can be said in front of her. Until the fateful line: “Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.” The camera zooms on Sam’s set jaw to tell the audience how much weight is in that line as the audio itself drags a raw cord of suspense.

The dizzying stairs are a descent into a world Sam seems to have left behind, with the audience viewing from below. Quickly, we’re introduced to ideas: the Poltergeist in Amherst, the Devil’s Gate in Clifton, “always missing and always fine.” Sam’s bitterness is thick: rather than telling him not to be afraid of the dark, “dad gave me a .45″, though Dean challenges what he should have done. They soon stand in a cage of sharply lit bars, arguing if this was what their mother would have wanted--to be raised like warriors.

Dean challenges if Sam would want a normal apple pie life; Sam slaps back: not normal, safe. “And that’s why you ran away.”--But John told him to stay gone. Regardless, Dean doesn’t want to do it alone. Sam asks what he was hunting, and why Dean wasn’t there; Dean was working a voodoo thing in New Orleans.

Dean reveals Jericho, California--10 men over to years on the same 5 mile stretch of road.

The “Ran it through A Goldwave” is a funny side comment but I’m not gonna get into why beyond LOL “through a goldwave”, that’s-- whatever. But we hear, in EVP, “I can never go home.”

The average viewer, at this point, isn’t going to be deeply instructing the story parallels--and in the scheme of it, Sam’s fear of going home barely scratches the meta surface. We do know John has been missing for three weeks. And find out Sam has a Monday deadline for his entry to lawschool, “whole future on a plate.” Jess worries over disappearing with his family, reminding of the deadline, but he promises to be back in time.

A sharp cut to JERICHO, CALIFORNIA. The driver shares similar concerns to Sam, “if I miss it, dad’s gonna have my ass,” he tells his girlfriend on the phone. A woman in white appears down the road as the car clock fries at 10:17, asking to be taken home. “Take me home?” “She lives at the end of breckenridge road.” “A girl like you shouldn’t really be alone out here.” She hikes her skirt. “I’m with you. Do you think I’m pretty? Will you come home with me?” hell yeah.

They arrive at a dillapidated home. “I can never go home.” No one even lives here. He steps out, turns around, and she’s gone. An eerie handprint appears on the window.

He decides to leave, clearly feeling the offsettling vibes, but isn’t alone. She steams with animosity in the backseat.

He looks into his mirror.

And wipes out.

After a violent death, we cut back to our boys and another exposition: credit card scams (jesus, could sam have yelled it any louder?), breakfast in a gas station bag, you gotta update your casette tape collection--why? because for one, they’re casette tapes. Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica--it’s the greatest hits of mullet rock. “House rules Sammy, Driver picks the music, rider shuts his cakehole.” “Sammy is a chubby 12 year old.” “What, can’t hear you.”

ENTER, JERICHO

Internal impala shots galore will end up being a major vibe of our next few years. A spunky guitar theme plays that we will eventually come to know. Dean pulls out a cigar box full of fake badges ranging from FBI to Bureau of Tobacco from the glove box, quickly showing us how deep this path goes for them already.

The cops review the mystery: no fingerprints, spotless; we find out that the victim was dating the cop’s daughter, who was posting missing flyers downtown. The boys introduce themselves as federal agents, are challenged for being too young, and Dean sasses his way through, “that’s very kind of you.” -- while gathering basic intel, we quickly find Dean’s tongue getting ahead of him, calling their lack of ability to find a connection beyond them all being male victims, calling it crack police work. The brothers’ dual personas exit the crime scene with a cuff upside the head from Sam to Dean, a bickering match, and Dean leaving a Mulder and Scully crack on the cops.

They quickly find Amy, the girlfriend, and lie to claim that were Troy’s relatives and had heard about her, and move to a diner to talk about events.

No major unusual things to warrant events; Sam compliments her necklace. She jokes that Troy got it for her to freak out her parents for “devil stuff”, but Sam quickly educates her on the pentagram meaning the opposite, a symbol of protection.

But there are weird rumors in town--people talk. In-sync, “what do they talk about”; a local legend. She tells them of a girl murdered on centennial where anyone who picks her up disapears forever. The brothers quickly move on to a library with a clunky monitor, fully dating us; not just the lack of good cell phones and wifi, but the equipment and the appearance of the search engine alone. Right, we’re watching this in 2005.

The brothers slapfight again, but Sam shows that even away from the life he never lost his prowess. He asks, “Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” and searches for suicide. 1981, 24 years prior. “Our babies were gone and Constance couldn’t bear it.”

So they go to see where Constance took the swan dive.

The brothers begin to fight.

SAM Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—

DEAN turns around.

DEAN Monday. Right. The interview.

SAM Yeah.

DEAN Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?

SAM Maybe. Why not?

DEAN Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?

SAM steps closer.

SAM No, and she's not ever going to know.

DEAN Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

DEAN turns around and keeps walking. SAM follows.

SAM And who's that?

DEAN You're one of us.

SAM hurries to get in front of DEAN.

SAM No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.

DEAN You have a responsibility to—

SAM To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

DEAN grabs SAM by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. A long pause.

DEAN Don't talk about her like that.

They’re interrupted as Constance appears, diving off the cliff, and immediately taking control of the Impala.

“Dude, who’s driving your car?” Dean holds up his keys.

They flee, over the bridge, and share another movement. One more fake card later, they find themselves in John’s room, room 10, in a motel. Sam remarks that the place is covered in Salt, and Cat’s Eye Shells. The entire room is covered in case work and lore.

I’ll break down the lore of these in a later mythos reblog, though the Asmodeus one really catches my eye for reasons outside of this episode.

Sam finds a photo-- a distinctly different family than the one on his college dresser. There, it’s John and Mary as an ideal image that framed Jessica. Here, it’s the life he walked away from. But while Dean heads out, he’s spotted by police, and their old coded dialect pops out, “Five Oh, take off.” Federal marshalls confront him: They’re looking for his partner (cue Wincest fans trying to make meta that’s about to be shot down one scene later, in the distance), fake US Marshalls, fake credit cards, is there anything about you that’s Real. My boobs.

Just putting a flag in the name Sheriff Pierce, we’ll figure out if that’s ever valid to anything later. But he tells Dean of the trouble he’s in with a room full of missing people and devil worship, for Dean to snap back he was 3 when they went missing. But they knew he had more than one partner. An older man. John’s journal is thrown out (Wincest meta dies a terrible death beyond previous scene)

Again, I’ll translate the FUTHARK in a follow up post, this is already taking a lot of time as it is.

Meanwhile, Sam is investigating the leads they and John both found. Previously spoken intents to burn her has him ask about her being buried at an old plot by Breckenridge at their old place.

SAM And why did you move?

JOSEPH I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.

SAM stops walking. JOSEPH stops too.

SAM Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?

JOSEPH No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.

SAM So you had a happy marriage?

JOSEPH hesitates.

Putting a flag in this for later.

But Sam decides to call the man out.

SAM A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?

JOSEPH just looks.

SAM It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.

SAM starts back toward JOSEPH.

SAM Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women.

SAM stops in front of JOSEPH.

SAM You understand. But all share the same story.

JOSEPH Boy, I don't care much for nonsense.

JOSEPH walks away. SAM follows.

SAM See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.

JOSEPH stops.

SAM And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.

JOSEPH turns around.

SAM Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.

JOSEPH You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!

SAM You tell me.

JOSEPH I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!

Sam is flushed out, and makes a fake 911 call to break Dean out, pointing out that the husband had been unfaithful. More dramatic silhouette shots really capture the early spirit of the piece, with Dean using a phone booth in lieu of other options. Hell, Dean was able to find a phone booth, let that take you back. They determine that John left Jericho, and establish his ex-marine habits with the coordinates, 35-111 that Dean had lied through to the cop. But while on the phone, the woman in white appears in front of Sam on the road, non-crashing.

She controls the car again, and forces him to drive to a broken home, repeating, “I can never go home.” Sam recognizes: “You’re scared to go home.” And that’s when the creepy ghost rapey vibes start, mounting him, demanding he hold her, she’s cold. “You can’t kill me, I’m not unfaithful.” He argues. You will be. Just hold me.

As she goes to rip out his heart, she flickers with the beat of his.

Dean breaks into the scene, unloading 12 shots into the ghost with iron bullets to disrupt her manifestation, giving Sam time to sit up and say, “I’m taking you home.”, where he drives through the house. Dean helps Sam out of the car, only to be telekinetically pinned by a dresser to be disabled.

The lights flicker again. Children manifest, water runs down the stairs, looking eerily like the light could be the Winchester’s old home

Here, she falls when reunited with her children. Sam clarifies--she could never go home, she was too afraid to face her kids (while not viable for the synchronic study, for my own sanity I’m going to note this season, Home will be all but mandatory to touch back here.) Dean says Sam found her weak spot.

They drive down the road with a blown headlight, Sam using an old map and ruler to locate the coordinates. But it’s realized Sam isn’t going with Dean to blackwater ridge, colorado 600 miles away. His interview was in ten hours. Dean declares, “I’ll take you home.”

There’s banter over meeting up later, and being a good team, but Sam goes inside and calls for Jess. “You home?” He finds a plate full of cookies with a note “missed you, love you” and relaxes in bed with the distant sound of a running shower.

And of course.

And so it began.

SYNCHRONIC STUDY: IN-EPISODE PARALLELS

In a first episode, there’s only so much to address. While we may question how much the Woman in White being in White may have been intentional with Jess and Mary, who wore pink (a diachronic full text body note later), in the initial review, it’s worth mentioning for the reasons in part 1 I’ve decided to air towards white in the final text product. Resultingly, the tie between Constance->Mary->Jess seems tangible. But it isn’t really so simple.

“Home.” Home is a huge keyword.

"I can never go home." within the episode unto itself, Sam is struggling to well, get back home. And frankly, returning home is the key of it. (hears distant uppity Wincest stans) The difference here is, this isn't a direct parallel, of course, as much as a general ambient mood that will haunt is forward through the show, even if current viewers just watching episode 1 don't recognize it yet. Sam going home kills Jess, essentially; or at least witnesses her death. At the same time, Sam fears returning to the hunter life, or more doesn't think he can because John told him not to come back. But now that Jess is dead, well, Sam can never go home to the life he was building. He has no choice but TO go back to the other home--the hunter life. Even if he’s certain it’s not what Mary would have wanted for them.

DIACHRONIC STUDY: IN-SEASON PARALLELS, LOOKING FORWARD

There’s no way I’ll have them all in mind, these are just what are flagging me along the way.

1.09 Home As the “Home” rewatch is not that far away, I’m going to save this as a placeholder with general notes about “Mary apologizing to Sam,” even if frankly, she should have to Dean too. But even if, at the time, the exact details of the deal may or may not have been established or hashed out by the authors--we’re not picking at arguing if the authors intended it or not here. Here, Mary apologizes for her deal. Here, Mary apologizes--for drowning her children. For magnetizing this poltergeist to this place that she demands let her sons go, where she forces the spook to let go of Sam. She couldn’t really go home in the truest sense until that passed. (I’ll have deeper chain-link connections on this looking-forward once actually at the episode.

DIACHRONIC STUDY: IN-ERA PARALLELS, LOOKING FORWARD

They’re here, but not pinging me at 1 AM beyond vagueblogging about Lucifer showing up as Jess to haunt Sam and the inevitable time travel episodes about Mary, so placeholder for later updates.

DIACHRONIC STUDY: BEYOND-ERA PARALLELS, LOOKING FORWARD

Obviously compare to above-dropped screenshots.

11.04: Mistakes were made.

Listen, Dean’s grimace seat has been in discussion lately, don’t blame me for thinking of Joseph’s mistakes right after the season as Dean-mirror Pastor Joseph. Funny how Sam’s get shown and Dean’s don’t.

11.23/12.01: Mary’s return in the (white or pink, I’m rolling with white as-above) gown, and all extending details.

12.22: Mary's dreamspace.

12.23: Dean, Castiel's death, Sam removing Dean

15.01: Woman In White, We've got work to do

I feel like the Woman in White is the most interesting of these that hasn’t been as talked to death as, say, the 12.23 elements with the Destiel parallel. After all, the Woman in White largely focused on Sam. It was his fear of home. It was him being faithful to Jess (and being unfaithful can be more than sex, really; after all, he made a promise to come back.) But in season 15, it’s Dean that the ghost of the jilted lover approaches, shortly after Dean nearly killed Jack in his pain. Was Dean the weeping woman? Or was Castiel? Who held the animosity in the back seat?

Or is this a shared path? As Dean puts the Equalizer away under the Cigar Box, he has his own haunting issues in the mirror.

Those will be addressed more deeply when we get to that episode in like half a year. But for now, I’m just putting a pin in it. With a side scribble of “Cas got his Secrets/Mary, Sam got his serial killer and clowns and Dean got... the woman in white with Belphegor.”

15.02: Road Closed

15.03: If one insists Mary and Jess’ dress are pink, Rowena’s dress upon wedding and unbirthing to death (and queendom)

15.04: I still think about Jess (shortly before Eileen’s return.)

15.13: If one insists Mary and Jess’ dress are pink, atop the eventually-addressed meaning of lighting (death and transformation) vs the Empress symbolism (fertility, rebirth), Castiel in pink light.

15.15: If one insists Mary and Jess’ dress are pink. Amara’s trenchcoat.

15.20: Beyond the obvious quotes, and the (IMO failed) attempt at nostalgia, there’s honestly very little callback to the original episode.

That’s it on first glance, I’m sure more will rattle out as we go forward. Well, mostly. Keys to the Legacy from Mint Condition is flagging me alongside control mechanisms like Castiel losing control of his vessel. But those are thoughts to put pins in for now and develop later.

COMBAT COUNTER:

DEAN VICTORIES: 1 (sam vs Dean)

MARKSMANSHIP COUNTER:

DEAN SHOTS: 12 shots, 12 hits.

(hits for any individual will be considered accurate even if targets teleport/flicker out as long as it should have hit the body)

The mythology pasted all around John’s Room is worth a second trip, but off the top of my head I see the Bell Witch and Asmodeus from the Lesser Key of Solomon (near the motel door).

I’ll reblog later to add commentary on that.

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jxxvvxxkcrack · 3 years

Text

Lee Jae Wook Vlive 21 June 2021

Stats

Total vlive viewers: 35675 Total likes: 2072339 Length: 1 hr 01 minute T-shirt: Unlock your life by Pars Co. https://www.parspars.com/product/unlock-your-life-rainbow-white-short-t-shirt/

He's on a diet now.

He threatened to turn off the Vlive a few times because of all the people who said they were not studying for their exams to watch it :P

He's growing out his hair now for the next project.

He had to ban requests for him to say fans' names in the middle since too many requests were pouring in for him to say their name. Don’t blame them lol.

Talking with fans

What is your next project? You should see articles about it soon Will you do more vlogs? It's difficult to do vlogs in the pandemic period since you need to wear a mask everywhere. What do you do in your free time? I eat a lot, sleep a lot, and exercise a lot. Can you donate your Jordan shoes to me? No I can't, and then launched into some anecdote about something about high school, which is unsubbed. When will you hold a fan meeting? Probably after the pandemic. "You're watching me at hagwon (cram school)? I will scold you!" And he did lol it was so cute. What do you do when you first wake up? A hot water shower, and then..? [unsubbed] Do you like overseas fans? Of course I do, I love my overseas fans. I'll come for you after the pandemic is over. Current favourite song: Recently, ‘Lost’ by Maroon 5 was released. It's the best. Will you do an online fan-sign event? That would be interesting! What's your MBTI? I haven't done it yet! Please do the MBTI! OK I will definitely do it! Can you do a bear heart? What's a bear heart? There's so much I don't know. Teleport vs being able to tell the future? This is an interesting question. I would choose to teleport. I live in the Gangnam area, and the traffic there is so bad! So I would choose 'Teleport'. (I didn't know he lived in Gangnam). Do you have a driver's license? Of course I do. Shoe size: 285mm Can you speak English? No, I can barely speak Korean well :P

-but in the middle he did say "Say hi to global fan" LOL-

Your favourite late night snack? Fried chicken, jokbal, and bossam. I spend a lot of money on food :P Would you date someone 7 years younger? 7 years younger? It's not a bad idea. I’m thankful (that someone 7 years younger likes me.) Would you date someone 7 years older? (laughs) It's a funny question. Why haven't you been seen anywhere in public? I don't go to many places, only to the gym and back to my home. Favourite snack: Goguma (sweet potato). It's sad, right? (Implying he's on a diet.) And then he randomly said he's tall but doesn't have good proportions (possibly someone asking why he exercises so much :P)

Do you like cats and dogs? I love them. I have a friend who has a shiba-inu called Chadol. It was so cute I went to his house every day to see his dog. You should eat more: You may not like me then! D: I'm studying Korean, study with me? I'm also trying to get better at Korean. Shall we do it together? (so flirty) Did you remove the mole on your neck? No, I didn't remove it. I won't remove it. What's your handphone wallpaper? It's a white wall with an orange stripe, somewhat Rothko-esque. He said he took it at his house's parking lot, and "It's pretty, isn't it?" Which celebrity friends do you have? (Playfully) 비밀 Do you like mint chocolate? I love mint chocolate. My friend told me not to declare this, and said that saying that I like it is a matter of life or death :P People say it tastes like toothpaste but it tastes nice to me! What colors do you like? Blue. Blue and dark colors. Isn't long hair uncomfortable? It is, but I will cut it one day. Your long hair looks cool: (Teasingly) I'm going to cut it soon~ Do you get along well with your elder sister? Yes, I really like my relationship with her. Which of your characters is most like you? Lee Jang Woo from When The Weather Is Fine. (Is he that good in his studies? Lol. And then he said something about a unicorn, which I do recall seeing in the drama, I think he used "___ unicorn" to brag about himself to his younger sister :P) Jjajangmyeon vs bibimbap? This is really hard. Do I get to have soup with bibimbap? Favourite perfume: Can I say the brand? I guess it doesn't matter. Slow Dance by Byredo. It's my favourite perfume. Today's TMI: I woke up early and went to the gym. Do you ride your bike often? About 3 times a week? Oppa because of you I'm going to Chung Ang University: So you'll be my junior huh. (laughs) Oppa, can you close your left eye and point to your right cheek? (he obediently follows the prompt.. he’s really an actor lol) "You!! I almost fell for it! Gosh, my mum will pass out if she sees this." He revealed a two string bracelet on his left hand while adjusting the camera. Favourite dessert: Croffle? Croffle. I really like croffle. Current body wash: I'm using a body wash by Lush (only he says it as Lush-ee, which is just adorable.) Can you speak Japanese? I love animes but Japanese is so hard. I will study hard! When will you do a rap? I may try it one day. (I wonder if he knows about that old rap video floating around lol.) Dimples vs. Eyes: Eyes? I think he might be talking about his forehead wrinkles instead of eyes actually, so the translation is wrong. What animes do you like? He didn't answer, but said there are many animes on Netflix that he watches. Eating chimaek while watching the world cup? Eating chicken and beer sounds good but, my agency probably wouldn't like it. Can you say a line of Baek Kyung since it's been a long time? (playfully) I won't do it~ Iced americano vs. hot coffee: Iced americano. He said 'eoljuga', which roughly means 'I’ll drink iced Americano even if I freeze to death'. :P What app do you use most often? Naver? I have many things I need to look up :P Which of your parents do you resemble? Sometimes my mum, but sometimes my dad. Do you like kalguksu (knife cut noodle soup)? Yes, I love kalguksu and sujebi. Favourite ice cream flavour: Mint chocolate. (Bursts into laughter) Who do you like better - your mum or your dad: Omma. You thought I wouldn't answer, didn't you. (He has thanked only his sister and his mum in an award ceremony before lol. Poor Jaewookie appa) Oppa I'll date you: I'll reject your offer. (bursts into laughter again). Are you at the agency now? Nope. Please name the fanclub: This is hard. It (the fanclub) should go on forever, shouldn't it? Send an email to the agency. 5 year old Jaewookie vs 5 copies of Jaewook?: Of course 5 copies of Jaewook. One to exercise, one to work, one to stay at home and eat.. Do you dip or pour sauce for tangsuyuk? But, why would you pour water on fried food? I'll say dip. Jjajang vs. jjampong: That's hard! When working, jjajang. When resting, jjambong. *Nods sagely to himself* (Although he instinctively said 'jjampong' first). When moving house, jjajang. What message from fans cheered you up the most? It was this letter I got. It said "you make us happy when you're working hard, but don't work too hard." It cheered me up a lot. Soju vs. beer: Soju Cider (Sprite/lemonade) vs cola: Cola Do you eat pineapple on pizza? I think it tastes nice! Hawaiian pizzas. I also really like pineapple. Fall or spring? Fall. I really like spring too, but there are too many bugs. Small but definite happiness? (He understood the abbreviation immediately, which is sooo different from when the Running Man cast are introduced to any new lingo lol) When I bike, I don't drink any water. I have a routine; after biking, I run for about 6km, then I drink water. That water at the midpoint mark is so delicious. Oppa I like you, please scold me: Why would I scold you. I would compliment you :P Good job. Favourite boy group: BTS. They're so cool (safe answer!) Ramen vs. kimbap? Don't you eat them together? How tall are you? 187cm tall. Which variety show would you like to appear on he most? "I have never been on a variety show yet. Have you seen Kokkomu? When I watched Kokkomu I cried a lot. My tears came out like diamonds." lol. In reference to an earlier question. No idea what Kokkomu is. https://newsbeezer.com/koreaeng/kokkomu-which-was-just-popular-is-controversial-due-to-the-copying-of-the-youtube-channel/ Possibly this? Beef or pork? Pork How long have you been tall? I've always been tall. Then he gives a cheeky wink! Oppa can you go on on Knowing Bros? I'll have a hard time talking in banmal in front of all the sunbaenim. I'll do more Vlive in the future. *compromise* lol. Oppa kajimayo: If I don't leave, the staff can't leave work either :P Can you fill an hour (of Vlive?): Shall we fill an hour? Do you want to be in a play or musical? Of course I do. Plays require the best form of acting. What's the first thing you want to do when the pandemic is over? I want to go to a pork belly bbq place and eat comfortably without a mask. What's the worst part about acting? Every moment is hard. It's not an easy job. Why do you always wear 2 T-shirts? I like T-shirts but, but my sweat changes their color. I don't like that, so. Favourite overseas country? Filming Alhambra was my first time overseas. I didn't even take many photos. I want to send you T-shirts: Don't, don't! while vigorously shaking his head. (worried that his fans will spend money) What is your life movie? I really love Robin Williams. It's not my life movie, but I love the Dead Poets' Society. Did you really go to Alhambra? Back then, my role was really small, so I didn't really know what was going on, but (I did go to the palace? is what it sounds like.) Would you rather be 3m tall or have a 400mm shoe size? Wouldn't it be better to be tall? (what’s the point of having big feet?) Oppa don't go to the army: I have to go someday.. I still have a lot of time, and will work hard When will be our wedding? Am I getting married? (laughs) Pepsi or Coca cola: I like any cola. I'll go to the army for you: Andwae it will be hard! Although apparently it's not as hard as it used to be. Are your family members all as tall as you? Yes my family members are all tall too. What do you do on your free days? I'm a freelancer so I don't have free days. How do you keep your skin looking so young? Lancome (he's now promoting Lancome). I came here right after a Lancome event. I really like Lancome. Tell me about your bracelet: I'll ask my stylist later :P When you come to Pohang I'll guide you!: I love gwamegi! (half-dried Pacific saury) Do you like to cook? I really like to cook. I love it so much even when people tell me not to cook, I will still cook. Oppa come to my school!: Which school is that? Tell me. Although I probably won't be able to read it. (cheeky smile). I'm really mean now, aren’t I. Favourite side dish? I like them all. Mokpo: Dodosolsollalasol was filmed in Mokpo. I ate aehobak jjigae (zucchini stew) there and it was amazing. Do Vlive at home? I'll figure out how to do it! I'll learn everything today. You use black and white hearts a lot on IG, what does it mean? It's the color of my tee. Just kidding, I just choose a color of heart that goes best with the photo. How much can you drink? Should I bluff? If I'm bluffing, when I drink alone at home, about 3 bottles? Just kidding, I get drunk after about 1.5 bottles (of soju). Favourite sports: Skiing, swimming, bowling. Was it hard to use a dialect in the Battle of Jangsari? Using a dialect was really hard. Can you do an IG live? I'm scared to do live - you can't make a mistake when all of you are watching. I have to be careful. Why aren't you seen in public? I answered that earlier, you are late. LOL. Your best dish? Western food? Something like risotto? Plans to film a movie? I want to but I should get offered first. Joking. Lol. I was told off for being late (the commenter above): Haha sorry.

Best fan questions/comments:

Live as a hamster or a ham forever?

Your pimples are so cute (mistranslation, she meant 'dimples'): "I have 4 dimples."

Don't smile, you'll give me a heart attack: I'm also having a heart attack seeing so many fans. I like it (that there are many fans on the vlive) but it's also scary. So cute.

Are you a microwave? You melted my heart: You're all so witty, jjinjjaru..

I'll make money. You just cook: You're so funny..

#vlive #lee jae wook

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melonsmessymusings · 3 years

Text

Preventing ‘Dark Willow’

This essay is based off an argument with my brother a long time ago. The question is if Giles staying in Sunnydale in S6 would have prevented Darth Rosenberg. There are many thoughts on this, but I’ve probably put my foot in my mouth as per usual and made a mess.

No. Giles staying in S6 would not have prevented Willow from being a magic junkie.

Throughout the show, magic is used as a metaphor for drugs and sex, albeit ham-handedly. In this case, it’s about drugs. With this in mind, let’s focus firstly on Willow. From as early as S1, Willow expressed an interest in learning magic. Her relationship with Jenny Calendar and her Technopagan badassery led to her forming what seemed at first to be a harmless interest in magic and Paganism. Towards the end of S2 in I Only Have Eyes For You, Willow admits to Giles: “I found loads of websites and stuff on paganism and magic... it’s really interesting.” which demonstrates her interest may be a little more than purely ‘educational fun’.

Her first taste of powerful magicks was restoring Angel’s soul at the end of S2. In Becoming Part 1, Giles warns Willow of the consequences of such mystical forces: “Channelling such potent magicks through yourself… it may open a door you won’t be able to close.” The Passion of the Nerd touched upon it briefly and explained the choice of phrasing is especially key here. It’s not as simple as a one-off spell that has no ramifications, the nature of the Soul Restoration uses a kind of magic that will stay with the caster forever. It leaves a mark. As we know, Willow does the spell anyway after waking up from a coma (don’t even go there) and successfully restores Angel’s soul. This is how her addiction started and it is the ONLY explicitly direct warning of the impact caused by using magicks that Giles gives her.

In Faith, Hope and Trick, Willow tries to persuade Giles to let her help him with the ‘spell’ to bind Acathla and lets slip that she knows more about the black arts than she’d originally led him to believe. There’s an interesting bit of dialogue between the two:

WILLOW: Are you mad at me?

GILES: No, of course not, no.

It’s obvious that Giles is anxious about this but because of his well-established role and priorities at this point, he’s not going to dwell on it too much, despite it being a genuine concern. Later in the episode, Willow also says, “Giles, I know you don’t like me messing with mystical forces…” so it has evidently been the topic of discussion previously. In Gingerbread, Willow is messing with magic again trying to make a protection spell for Buffy. The symbol used by Willow, Amy and that other kid is one commonly associated with human sacrifices according to Giles. The Black Arts. Even if that isn’t the spell they were casting, the symbol had other less pleasant implications. And so, it continues. By S4, Willow is doing much more than floating a pencil, progressing alarmingly quickly and becoming highly proficient by the end of the season. Giles reminds her of the dangers of magic subtly, “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be attempting spells, your energy is too unfocused” and Willow is still doing magic that is both powerful and harmful enough to have caught the attention of D’Hoffryn, Lord of the Vengeance Demons despite his apprehensions.

In S5 we get a first look at ‘Dark Willow’, when Tara gets brain sucked by Glory. There’s no way the whole gang didn’t know about that. Not a chance. Yet oddly, it’s never mentioned? Obviously, the writers had other priorities with the main plot and Glory etc. but it was criminally neglected. Willow used extremely dangerous dark magicks to go after Glory for hurting Tara at incredible risk to herself and the others who ended up having to rescue her. Justifiable or not, her actions were a reckless abuse of power that very nearly had fatal consequences. How any of them just let it slide without so much as a comment is infuriating. In The Weight of The World, Giles says to Xander, “It��s extraordinarily advanced” when he learns that Willow is trying to enter Buffy’s mind yet again, concerned. Also, we start to see the black eyes when Willow attempts more advanced spells, like teleporting Glory away in Blood Ties, or casting the protective wards in Spiral so it can be theorised that the magicks Willow evokes are steadily darkening.

Roll on S6. Set after Buffy’s death, a huge trauma for all the characters. Willow raising Buffy is evidently a massive achievement from her perspective. She considers herself to be a God. In Flooded, she gets the gut-punch from Giles that he is not in fact pleased with her at all. She’d expected him to be “impressed or something” which he was, but in the wrong ways.

GILES: The magicks you channelled are more ferocious and primal than anything you can hope to understand, and you are lucky to be alive you rank, arrogant amateur!

He blames himself for not stopping her, and rightfully so... to an extent. He failed to provide her with proper guidance or even show an interest in the types of magic that she was engaging with. If he had done so at an earlier stage, then perhaps Willow would not have taken things as far as she did. One interpretation of the argument in Flooded is that Giles is lashing out at Willow because he’s frightened. Most likely for Willow instead of Willow herself. He makes a point of saying that she was “the one [I] trusted most to respect the forces of nature” and bringing Buffy back defies the laws of nature. She had no respect for these forces, bending them to her will which is a scary concept. The argument that the Scoobies were selfish for bringing Buffy back notwithstanding, Willow was the one that actually performed the spell, hell bent in succeeding. That horrifies Giles and if anything, is a wakeup call for him to pull his head out of the sand and deal with this seriously. Willow meanwhile doesn’t want to hear a word of it, pacifying him instead of actually understanding the implications of her actions and listening to anything beyond his anger. There’s a lot that could be dissected in this scene but that’s unnecessary at this moment.

Magic is also the primary factor that caused Willow and Tara to split up at the end of Tabula Rasa. Tara had brought her concerns to Willow as early as Tough Love, saying that she was ‘scared’ about how powerful Willow was getting. When Tara tried to explain why she felt this way, Willow refused to listen. Every single time that Tara raised a concern about Willow’s use of magic, Willow either ignored it or reassured her that it was fine, and she was totally in control. But Willow has a history of altering people and their actions to suit her. She attempted to do so in Lover’s Walk by casting a spell on Xander to stop them having feelings for each other. Again, in Something Blue, while unaware of the effects of the spell, she still made the conscious choice to use magic to ‘have her will be done’. She ended up hurting her friends, however unintentionally. Then in S6 when Tara and Willow are arguing about magic, instead of having a proper conversation, Willow uses the Lethe’s Bramble to make Tara forget they were even arguing. A direct invasion of her mind. And Willow didn’t show any indication that she thought it was wrong. Barely two episodes later, Willow then used a spell which caused everyone to forget who they are after promising Tara that she would go a week without using magic. It’s no surprise that Tara wanted to break up.

Willow does get ‘clean’ by Entropy. Subsequently Tara comes back, and it all seems to go well until the brutal, vicious, non-sensical murder that causes Willow to launch herself back into the dark magicks stating, “I’m not coming back.” Only then does Giles do something about it. Only then does he take it upon himself to step up and realise that he has failed her, by which point it was far too late and resulted in her very nearly killing him, a price he deemed a suitable penance for his neglect.

But NOT ONCE prior to this did Giles intervene. He had the resources and was capable of it, and not once did he sit her down properly and say, “Willow, I think we need to talk about your use of magic because I’m a tad concerned.” Even after resurrecting Buffy, he only chastises her for her recklessness, he doesn’t actively do anything beyond this except a few powerful glares. He is watching her make all the mistakes he made as a young rapscallion and doing nothing about it. Then in S7, he fulfils the mentor role to her and helps keep on track of her recovery, an older addict helping the younger. It just highlights that he could have helped her sooner before it was out of control.

This comes back to Giles’ basic structure as a character. He’s a Watcher, the mentor to the Slayer. His purpose is to be in Sunnydale for Buffy. His whole life is revolved around Buffy, she is factored into every single one of his decisions. He never signed up to be the ‘father-figure’, despite appearing to adopt that role very quickly. He never signed up to care for Xander and Willow, he isn’t the Watcher of them. He has never given any indication that he wants that responsibility, and it shouldn’t fall to him to care for a group of random teenagers. It’s this fundamental construction of Giles’ character that means that he’s borderline dependant on Buffy, which isn’t her fault at all. He sacrifices everything, even parts of himself for her and most of the time gets nothing in return. The point is that Giles is so busy being a Watcher that he can’t think of anything else. It’s not necessarily his fault, that’s exactly how he was trained, and arguably after the whole Eyghon debacle, it’s unlikely that he ever truly had faith in his judgement again. Remember when Giles put Buffy before Jenny, the woman he loves? Buffy comes first, always because the mission is what matters.

On a more speculative note, Giles was aware of Willow’s obsession with magic and didn’t know what to do, instead choosing to believe that he wanted to help her, but he didn’t trust himself to teach her the control she needed. It does narratively fit for Giles to be reluctant to help Willow learn the magicks given his past. However, he neglected her and is at least partially to blame for Willow becoming a magic junkie. He had every opportunity over YEARS to step in and offer her a proper education. He had the skills and if he were hesitant, certainly had the connections to find someone who would teach Willow properly, e.g., the Coven in Devon. The audience is acutely aware after The Dark Age that Giles has a history of abusing dark magic. Note that throughout the series, he does not actually use that much magic himself. This abuse led to Giles having to murder one of his friends among whatever else he and his ‘friends’ got up to, which means he knows full well the ramifications of messing with that kind of power and doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole again. Magic is an addiction and he’s a recovering addict.

Equally, Willow never asked Giles for help. It’s all very well blaming him for being negligent and grossly irresponsible, but she didn’t ask him to teach her. She didn’t ask him for guidance or whatever, at least not memorably. Assume that he did help her. That he trained her and gave her a proper education in the magicks. There’s no guarantee that any of that would have prevented Willow from taking it too far. Willow has an addictive personality and therefore it makes logical sense for her to become addicted to magic. Ultimately, Giles could have spent years training her, but he can’t make decisions for her, nor does he wish to. Willow is her own person, a bright, capable young woman who is an adult. He cannot push her to do anything and it’s not in his nature to do so. Dark Willow is an inevitability in a sense.

Essentially while Giles staying in Sunnydale would’ve been preferable on a personal level, it would have made very little difference as to whether Willow would abuse the magicks. She’d already done so on countless occasions with no intervention therefore he likely wouldn’t have interfered until it was too little too late. It’s not that he doesn’t care for Willow, but he had other priorities, right or wrong. Should he have helped her? Absolutely. But it takes two to Tango...

#btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #rupert giles #willow rosenberg #meta #very long essay that took too long #sorry for my mess

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maribatshipper · 3 years

Text

Miraculous 39 Clues

Lillian glares with her dark eyes at the picture of the Ladybug-themed heroine. The heroine was lying on the ground with her arm twisted into an unnatural shape after a fight with one of these akumas. Lillian picks up her phone & calls a cousin of hers.

"Dan, I'm going to Paris. I need to speak to Stone." Lillian growls.

Dan asks, "Why? What's wrong with him?"

Lillian frowns, "Not what's wrong with him, what's wrong with the city he lives in. Check a site called the Ladyblog. You'll see why. I have to look out for my fellow Janus."

Lillian hangs up as she buys a ticket to Paris, running her hair through her burnt amber hair.

***

"STONE!"

Jagged Stone winces. He's always known about his heritage & everything that went on. He preferred the love he got from people when they heard his music compared to the backstabbers he called his family & their obsession with the clues.

"Lily, what are you doing here? In Paris?" Jagged asks, his pale-green eyes hidden by some glasses with 2 Eiffel towers & Paris' flag incorporated into it.

"Why didn't you tell the Cahill's about the situation in Paris? Those of us who are good could have done something to help the heroes of this city. They clearly need all the help they can get, & who better to help than an entire family of spies, inventors, artists, & jocks?" Lillian glares at the much older man.

Jagged sighs, "The Lucians have a base here & said nothing. You've seen the reports, Lillian. The heroes are just kids. I was turned into a rockin' villain. What was I supposed to do? Call the entire family over to get us all akumatised when they find out what's going on?"

Lillian glares, "No, you're supposed to warn us about Paris & about keeping emotions in check! The Lucians here are fools for not bringing this to our attention! Our branch is supposed to share information with the rest of our branch! This is something that has to be taken to the head of our family! This Hawk Moth character could be a rogue Cahill, or a Vesper! If this guy is a Vesper, our whole family needs to be warned about him! No matter how much we hate each other, we don't leave other Cahill's to deal with Vespers. What if he's like Peirce? What then, Stone?"

Jagged sighs, "You're right. I haven't been thinking clearly. So un-rock'n'roll of me. But this isn't something that can be fixed with the master serum. Cahill's can't face against the power of these jewels called Miraculous. Even with that serum. These Miraculous are more powerful than anything, & they should be kept out of our family's greedy hands."

Lillian frowns, "But we could help. We've had exper-"

Jagged whirls around, "Not with this! We've never had any experience with this! This is dangerous, Lily! No matter how genuine our talents, we can't help them against this! I know it's un-rock'n'roll, but that's what it is, Lillian!"

A knock comes from the door. Jagged breathes a few times & opens the door to see a familiar face. Jagged's face stretches into a giant grin.

"Marinette! There's my Rockin' designer! Whatcha got for me this time?" Jagged asks.

Marinette smiles, "Well, I designed you some new glasses, because the ones you have right now are starting to fall apart, since I didn't really have the best materials when I started that, but these new ones should last at least for a few years, & I have a small-scale of that poster you asked me to do, & I need to just adjust your outfit for your show tomorrow. Oh, I also have some stuff for Fang. It's all in my backpack."

Lillian walks up to Marinette & studies her, a suspicious glint in her eyes.

"Who's this, Stone?" Lillian asks, not taking her eyes off of the teen.

Jagged smiles, "Lily, this is my best designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, this is a relative of mine, Lillian."

Marinette smiles & holds her hand out to shake with Lillian's, only to fall when her backpack bursts from being overfilled. Lillian's eyes widen as Marinette collides with the ground. She crouches down to help Marinette pick the stuff up, only to catch her eye on an open design book. She picks up the design book. Her eyes widen at every design. Marinette panics as she sees this & grabs the design book quickly.

"I'm so sorry. I'm madly clumsy. Those are just rough sketches-"

Lillian smirks, "Rough sketches? If those are rough sketches, the finished product must be good enough to go to heaven, Dupain-Cheng."

Jagged stares at Lillian in shock. She is harsh, cold, & not one you'd expect compliments from, even if she is a Janus.

"Stone, I need to talk to you." Lillian grabs Jagged's arm & drags him away from the confused blue-eyed teenager.

"What is it?" Jagged asks, rubbing his sore arm where Lillian's nails were digging into his skin.

Lillian frowns, "She's got the skill of a Cahill with the Janus serum. Does she know anything about the Cahills?"

Jagged shakes his head, "Not a thing. Her mother is most likely a Tomas from China, even though she is small. I saw her in action when Penny was akumatised. Her father is a French baker, & she designs clothes, posters, glasses, she could design a coat for Fang if she wanted to."

Lillian holds a dark coloured hair between her fingers & smirks, "Let's see if she is a Cahill."

Jagged gapes, "How did you get that?"

Lillian laughs, "Stone, I'm a Janus who's been taught at each of our branches bases & in each art. Canada, Hollywood, Venice, any base there was, I've been there. I've done what our ancestors did. We test this. If it comes back positive, we train her in the Janus ways. If not, you don't have to worry about anything."

***

Marinette was confused when this strange teenager who was somewhat older than her dragged her favourite singer away with such authority.

"What was that, Tikki?" She whispers to her little purse attached to her hip.

The quiet being in her purse answers, "I don't know Marinette. She radiates an artists' soul, but she seems so..."

Marinette offers, "Standoffish?"

Tikki chuckles, "Yeah, but there's something more to her than that."

The two older artists come back, Jagged cowering slightly when Lillian looks towards him. Tikki stays hidden in the purse.

"Do I wanna know what that was?" Marinette asks.

Jagged laughs, "It wasn't really anything Rock'n'roll to talk about."

Lillian nods, keeping an eye on the teen.

"So, Marinette, what are your interests?" Lillian asks.

Marinette smiles, "Well, I'm really into fashion, I even design & sew my own clothes. I'm really good at video games, especially Ultimate Mecha Strike 3. Then of course there is music, I mean, I listen to Jagged's music all the time while I'm sketching out designs, his music inspires me! Unlike XY. Bleh! I even designed the costumes for Kitty Section, & I've made so many different outfits, & I'm starting my own website, but I really don't know if it's a great idea with so much stress at school, & akumas, & of course I'm class representative for my class."

Lillian smirks, "I think I'll visit your school, kid. See how well you do in a place like that."

Marinette panics, "It's really no biggie, I just have a lot on my plate."

Lillian smiles, "Either way, I'll be visiting. I gotta go to my apartment. Remember, Stone. I will be telling."

Jagged nods, confusing Marinette.

"Am I missing something here?" Marinette asks.

Lillian smiles, "Nothing to worry about, kid. See you at your school, Dupain-Cheng."

Lillian walks away with a dangerous looking smile on, which scares Marinette slightly.

Marinette suddenly asks, "Does she even know which school I go to?"

***

Lillian checks the test results of the hair she plucked from Marinette's head earlier. Lillian calls Jagged.

Jagged sighs, "Well?"

"It's a match. She's Janus alright. But she's also Lucian & Tomas. Test result says 5% Lucian, 5% Tomas, & 90% Janus." Lillian smiles.

Jagged sighs, "Check her classmates & parents too."

***

A month has passed, & Lillian gathered as much information about the Dupain-Chengs as she could. Marinette's mother, Sabine, is the Cahill with genes. The father, Tom, is a Tomas, which Lillian thought was funny. The only issue? Neither parent knew that they were part of a giant family spreading all across the world. Marinette's grandmother Gina seemed to at least know something of the Cahill name.

Lillian sighs, "I can't believe they don't know a thing about us."

She looks at her research notes on the classmates. All of them have tiny bits of Cahill DNA except Cesaire and Bourgeois. When she visited with Marinette that one day, the kids seemed sweet, but Lillian's a Janus. She can tell when someone's acting. There was one that was acting the most. Her acting was spot on, except for one small issue. She couldn't keep her stories straight.

"Well, miss Rossi, you are about to get a few dozen lawsuits delivered right to your school in the middle of your class. You shouldn't have messed with Marinette. You mess with a Janus, you mess with a powerful enemy. Now to get the kid trained like a Janus."

***

Lillian shows up to Marinette's school again & points out a flaw in one of Lila's stories. She then walks to the bathroom, where she has laid a trap for the fox.

"Hello. Lillian, right?" Lila fakely smiles.

"& you must be Splenda." Lillian smirks.

Lila asks, "What?"

Lillian explains, "Artificially Sweet. Like Splenda. Fake sugar. Drop the act, I can smell the Lucian on you!"

Lila actually seems surprised, & asks, "What's a Lucian?"

Lillian looks through Lila for any sign of deception, but she sees that Lila actually has no idea what she's talking about.

"Of course. That makes this so much easier. Keep away from Marinette, or I can guarantee all your fame will disappear."

Lila drops her Façade & smirks, "How could you possibly do that? Everyone here can't resist when they hear what they want to hear. There's nothing you can do about it anyway. You don't want to be my friend, fine, but I'll make sure no one here wants to be your friend at all. You're a little less dumb than the others, so I'll give you one chance. You're either with me, or against me. You only have until the end of class to decide, Lillian."

Lillian giggles, then full out laughs.

"Oh you poor, delusional soul! I don't want to be friends with anyone here except Marinette! & thanks for saying that. Now I have all the proof I need!" Lillian smirks.

Lila asks, "What do you mean?"

Lillian smirks, "You'll find out."

***

Months passed, & Lila's entire empire toppled once lawsuits were coming to her in public for defamation & slander, & Lila was also sued for abuse. Marinette got paparazzi swamping her, asking about how long Lila had threatened her, but Lillian kept Marinette away from the Paparazzi with practiced ease. Marinette had found out how she was related to many important people. Lillian trained her, causing Ladybug to defeat villains much quicker, & Cat Noir stopped showing, not that it bothered her. Cat Noir stopped even helping, acting childish every time Ladybug denied his feelings. Ladybug decided to pick a new hero, a new fox. The new fox made everything easier on Ladybug, & even stole Cat Noir's ring & gave it to Ladybug after his first week.

Ladybug smiles, "You ready for patrol, Corsac?"

The new Fox smiles, his red hair with white tips blowing in the wind. He was also a Janus, which is why Ladybug chose him for the fox. One needs a really good artistic mind to use the fox power.

Corsac's blue eyes widen in happiness.

(I couldn't find one with white tips. Imagine they're white.)

"Of course, Ladybug."

A/N: While reading Miraculous Salt fics, I suddenly had the thought, “What if the 39 Clues universe was part of the Miraculous Universe?” And this came to life with a prompt. I can’t remember the prompt, but I’m happy with how this came out.

Okay... so... I ran out of really cool fox names, so I actually googled Fox species, and there was only 2 cool sounding ones. Culpeo and Corsac. Can anyone guess who Corsac is?

#Miraculous salt #39 clues #Marinette's a Cahill #Unpopular crossover

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cosmicheromp3 · 4 years

Text

let’s talk about snowbirds don’t fly for a second, shall we: the arc where roy’s addiction was first introduced, and how it actually affected the relationship between roy and ollie.

people’s perception of snowbirds don’t fly and the events surrounding it is so... weird, to the point where it often makes me wonder whether they’ve actually read the comic (and roy’s appearances right after, but i realize those might be less known) or whether they’re just going off a few very specific panels and inaccurate recounts – usually from people that will twist anything in their favour to call ollie a bad guy.

because, if you pieced together what most people seem to think happened – and this is what i was expecting to find once i decided to read it myself –, in snowbirds we should see: roy, not yet an adult and still under the active care of ollie, starts using drugs, and oliver’s so caught up in himself and negligent that he doesn’t notice what’s happening. when he finally finds out, he lashes out, hits roy and kicks him out of the house, leaving roy without a home. this makes their relationship crumble, and roy starts hating ollie because of it. they don’t speak to each other, and leave in awful terms.

and... in many aspects, that’s so far from the events you'll see if you actually go read green lantern #85 (snowbirds don’t fly) and #86 (they say it’ll kill me... but then won’t say when!). i’m assuming a lot of misconceptions happen because of a) writers with a grudge against ollie who retroactively, and unfairly, painted him in a bad light, and people took this at face value, and b) retcons that came with the new 52 reboot – but, i'll be honest, i don’t care enough to go read that mess even for this post. in general, i’m pretty sure we all agree that we ignore out of character comics; let’s not make roy and ollie the exception to that, yeah?

first i want to get something out of the way, that i feel like i need to mention even though there’s probably people that have talked about it better than i could. when we analyze this comic we should keep in mind that the characters in the story were meant to fill specific roles for the sort of... PSA comic that dc was trying to make, and in the 70s, at that. considering this, both roy and ollie are plot devices.

the creative team behind the story (o’neil and adams) have said that they chose roy to be the average “good” teen who fell into drugs – as a way to say “this could happen to anyone, even to this reputable superhero”. ollie was the caring but imperfect parent who missed the signs – not abusive but distant at the moment, he was meant to be more like a nudge to parents to pay closer attention. it was written to play as a sort of “this could happen to the best of us” situation. and in that context, ollie is made to react in a way that is at most "not ideal" for the standards of its time: he hits roy, and denies to himself that roy’s addiction is a real problem that needs to be dealt with delicately. this is used to send the message of “don’t react like this”.

that isn’t exactly the point of this post, and i don’t want to downplay the harm ollie did with his reaction or absolve him of any blame. the point of this post is: people seem to think that’s where the storyline ended, that was ollie’s final reaction, and those are the terms in which ollie and roy parted; which is just not true.

instead, ollie hitting roy happens in the very first page of green lantern #86 – we have an entire issue in which ollie is faced with his initial reaction and made to confront his mistake (which is more than we can say for, um, other father superheroes that have hit their children. i won’t name names.) the only moment you could read as him “kicking roy out” – which is the phrasing i’ve seen applied to this – happens the very next page, where ollie tells roy to “get out”.

the thing is, roy was not living with ollie at the moment. there was nowhere that ollie could kick him out from. “get out” means just that: get out of this room (and ollie didn’t intend anything more than that with his words.) the comic makes a point of stressing that roy is, by that point, independent, and old enough to be living without a guardian.

ollie, right after roy leaves, thinks: “but he shouldn’t need attention–at his age”. ollie is in the wrong here because of his close-minded view of addiction and because he’s not considering that, though a legal adult, roy is still young and needs care, but it still shows that roy was largely on his own by then. ollie’s reaction is definitively negative and a rejection, but can’t in any way be seen as “kicking roy out”, because it isn’t. (note, also, how ollie’s first thought is that he failed roy, but his denial and stubbornness get in the way and he shifts the blame. he’ll eventually have to get over this and change.)

we see that ollie plays the role of the father that reacts poorly, and he is directly contrasted with the adults who do take responsibility for roy – hal at first, and dinah after, are the ones who play the role of “this is how you should react.”

hal finds roy without knowing what happened between him and ollie, and his first reaction is to take roy to a doctor; he immediately recognizes that what roy needs is help – and will later say so to ollie. when roy refuses, saying he wants to kick the addiction on his own – to prove himself to ollie, because even though he doesn’t think ollie was right he still values his opinion and their relationship, but i’d say there’s something he’s trying to prove to himself, too –, hal recognizes that he doesn’t know anything about drug withdrawal or addiction, and he’s receptive to roy, asking him questions and listening without judgement.

so he takes roy to dinah, who is the one that (very kindly, might i add, because dinah and roy weren’t that close at the time) cares for roy while he goes cold turkey. roy, possibly rather unrealistically, though i’m no expert, kicks the addiction in the span of a few pages. before the ending of this arc, roy has already gone clean.

there’s a one week timeskip there, where we assume that out of the characters featured in this story, roy only interacts with dinah, and ollie’s been with hal. then, before the conclusion of this story, roy is given a place to confront ollie and call him out for his mistakes. roy calls him out for turning his back on him, and he gets to tell him – and show him, punching him in a scene where it’s implied that ollie completely deserves it, unlike the opposite situation that this issue started with – about the pain he’s been in. we are given, in text, a moment where roy can express to ollie what he’s been going through, what he did wrong, and how it affected him.

(this is a moment where the intentions of the comic are very clear, not only because roy practically turns to the camera to deliver the PSA, but also because of the wording: roy told ollie that he turned his back on him, and in the same page he talks about society turning its back on drug addicts, same wording twice. ollie and roy are both meant to represent something other than just themselves, even if this happened in continuity and ended up affecting their characters in the long run.)

and ollie – unlike in that first page, now ollie is shown to listen and understand. he’s not in the same place or mindset he was in when everything started. in the beginning, ollie thought that there must be something inherently bad about a person who does drugs, in a reflection of society’s – and parents’ – views of the issue. and that shows in his initial denial and reaction: ‘how could my son, who’s a good person, do this?’ then, in this scene, when roy tells him he beat the addiction, he answers “good boy” – roy immediately rejects this notion, and emphasizes that there’s more to it than his own goodness: what’s important is the help he received, namely from hal and dinah, and a caring environment. ollie, at the very least, begins to understand this, and in doing so understands very clearly what he needs to change about their relationship if he wants roy back.

this means that ollie starts undergoing character development in this one issue alone. the thing about ollie, in regards to his relationship with roy, is that he has made mistakes and the narrative acknowledges it; but, when well written, he realizes and admits it, making a point of learning from his mistakes. roy knows that ollie has fucked up, too, and doesn’t let him off the hook for it, but he also recognizes that he makes an effort to be better. especially after snowbirds, this informs their relationship a lot.

by the end of the issue they’re not hugging, and roy is leaving on his own, but that’s completely of his own accord. and these are the last panels in the entire issue:

the whole original comic, but mostly these panels specifically, is what makes me wonder about people’s perception of these events, and the misconceptions i previously mentioned – because i really am confused as to how you could reconcile these two opposite readings. unless, you know... people are speaking without ever touching the original comic. (i don’t want to blame anyone for not reading older comics, but please, if you’re gonna speak, especially if it’s to shit on a character or call them abusive the way people do with ollie, do it in an informed way.)

so, right after the events of snowbirds, because roy was allowed to speak up and ollie was made to listen, at least as much as can be expected through his stubbornness, they’re in much better terms than people usually think. if you look at roy’s chronology, he interacts with ollie in his next few appearances (barring the teen titans ones), teaming up as they normally would, with the one difference being the emphasis that’s put into the fact that roy has grown away from ollie – in the same way as any young adult would grow away from a parent. there’s also roy’s resentment for ollie’s actions, but this resentment is portrayed as deserved and it doesn’t turn their interactions into something negative. it’s still clear that they both care for each other, and there’s certainly no hate.

[from action comics #436/2]

this first one takes place a few months after roy goes his own way. roy is in the middle of working a case when ollie gets involved, and they work on it together. green lantern #100/2 is their next appearance and has a similar plot, this time with dinah working with them as well. in both of these, they still work well together, are able to communicate in action and have each other’s backs.

in the action comics issue, ollie insists that roy is still welcome by his side, and that he should still feel free to ask for help whenever he needs it. roy refuses in the way that’s shown in the panels above – saying that he needs to “be a loner for a while” and build a life of his own (though it’s not an exact parallel, because ollie is ollie and takes “loner” to a whole other level, the wording here reminds me of the way ollie tends to leave on his own whenever he feels like he needs to find himself). you’ll see that these interactions aren’t hostile at all – quite the opposite.

world’s finest #251/3 might be the one where their interactions are the most tense, and that’s mostly just in the end. when they’re done with the usual superhero team-up, ollie shows willingness to talk to roy:

“i can’t help out. roy’s back, and, well– we’ve got a lot of talking to do.” through these issues, we realize that ollie has learned: his previous mistake was not paying enough attention to roy, and not showing him that he could always count on ollie (both in noticing roy’s addiction, but also before, in not taking enough care so roy wouldn’t get to that point). he tries to make up for it every chance he has, but it’s always on roy’s terms. everyone is aware that ollie is the one who was in the wrong, and it’s up to roy to forgive him or not, but no one ever pressures roy to do so. when roy doesn’t want to stay and talk, ollie accepts it.

ollie atones again and again, and their relationship isn’t magically fixed and they don’t go back to being close without effort – effort which rightfully has to be done, again, mostly on ollie’s part. but they never, ever go so far as to hate each other.

then, in green arrow (1988) #75, ollie feels so bad about what happened between them, about the way he screwed up, he essentially says to roy that he wouldn’t fault him for wanting to shoot him. “so go ahead. god knows, you’ve got plenty of reason.” roy has been brainwashed here; he breaks through it because of ollie’s words.

and, after this whole ordeal is done, this is how they part ways:

by this point, roy already has lian and a life of his own. he’s gone back to being speedy and then arsenal, he’s in the titans again and he will become a renowned hero in his own right. he might have forgiven ollie a long time ago, but now that he has found himself – like he set off to do at first – he seems more prepared to make amends and see where he stands with him (maybe i’m attributing more consistency among these issues, that happen years apart, than we should actually give them credit for, but i can’t help trying to find the common themes.)

after these, which are the most immediate interactions after snowbirds, we have multiple instances of them being close again. it’s in every small moment they have together, really, but off the top of my head, a couple that are illustrative for their relationship are green arrow: the archer’s quest and justice league of america (2006) #7, even though they don’t directly interact in this last one. i was gonna include panels from both, but this is getting long enough; i urge you to read them, especially if you followed along reading the issues i’ve mentioned, because they’re great. what i am gonna include, cause it’s amazing, is this panel from justice league of america wedding special.

in my opinion, these misconceptions around ollie and roy not only are a disservice to their characters but also mean that people are missing out on what i think is a really interesting relationship. it’s almost rare to see a relationship evolve in a way that feels so organic in comics, not only because the interpersonal conflict here is shown to have real, tangible consequences but also because the characters are allowed to grow in a way that is gradual and natural and even satisfying.

ollie and roy's relationship might have never been the exact same after snowbirds – but which father-son relationship stays the same after the son grows up? and i think it's a testament to the strength of their bond that without ever ignoring these events (because, as i’ve shown, they’re very much acknowledged again and again) they not only never stop loving each other, but are also able to keep building something meaningful going forward.

#roy harper #ollie queen #green arrow #dc #dc meta #drug mention //#long post //#i was gonna put this under a read more but u know what. i'm not gonna give u the option to scroll past this. you are forced to read it #not really but u know hgsdhghsj #you'll notice how many times they call each other dad/son in these panels and that wasn't even intentional #not to keep comparing this to u know who but u know who could never

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 17: He Knows

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 17. Set during RttE. A Hiccstrid AU. When Viggo knows something about Hiccup that the Dragon Riders don't, he's all too eager to share it with his young rival.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Words: 4 264

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Blackmail” + “Dirty Secret”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: This is actually based in an AU/UA that I've posted one one-shot for before and do plan on writing a main fic for because there is just so much drama and plot that can be made with it.

The continued usage of the wrong pronouns is on purpose.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

NOTE: The Rape/Non-con warning is there for a correct warning. Nothing explicit happens in this fic. What does happen is unwanted touching above the belt, above the chest even, but still unwanted.

Ao3 Whumptober Fic

Ao3 Original Fic

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"I can't imagine how awful it must be to be in your position."

Hiccup looks up from the shackles binding his wrists at those words. They are the first spoken since Ryker has pushed him into this chair in front of Viggo minutes ago. There's been a tense one-sided silence of Viggo giving him the usual "did you honestly believe you would get away with this" speech with Hiccup not even giving him the time of day. But at those words, he has to look up.

They haven't been spoken with the kind of sympathy you'd expect to hear them be spoken in. Instead, Viggo gazes back at him with a smirk and that alone is enough to make him angrier than he already is.

"What position?" Hiccup asks, tone short, and showing the way he feels.

"Well, born the way you are, I can't imagine you have it easy." Deciding against giving him a straight answer, Viggo continues to use hints instead of giving him a straight answer.

"Berk no longer takes an issue with me being a runt." Hiccup replies and Viggo gives him that look, one of those he doesn't like. This one makes him feel like he's being played with.

"How does it feel knowing that your father, the Chief, will never truly accept you?" He asks and at this point Hiccup is confused.

Whatever gave him that idea? The relationship between him and Stoick is the best it's been since ever and Viggo shouldn't be able to know about the years before Toothless. And even if he did, that wouldn't explain why he thinks this.

Noticing the confusion Hiccup fails to hide, Viggo continues.

"You have to hide yourself, do you not? Can't imagine that must be pleasant." Viggo's fingers won't stop moving as he speaks and Hiccup almost finds them distracting. Is that what it's like talking to him? Is he that distracting, too?

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm not hiding any part of myself." Hiccup denies what he thinks is an ungrounded claim.

"Good job, Hiccup, you almost sounded believable. I had no idea you were capable of such lies. How many times did you have to tell this to yourself before you started to believe it?" Viggo congratulates him on an acting job well-done and Hiccup isn't sure why.

"Repeat what? You're not making any sense." In the back of his mind, the very, very back, Hiccup feels like he knows exactly what his captor is talking about. But the last thing he wants to do, however, is admit to it.

Viggo readjusts his position and leans back in his chair, his expression hardly changes.

"Does it frighten you knowing you'll have to pretend you're a Chief someday? For the rest of your living days, I suspect? I assume this masquerade started because Berk's line of Chieftains has been entirely made up of men at this point. Bad enough they would get a runt for a Chief someday, but a female one? Now that must've stung." So this is what this has been all about, Viggo finally reveals the truth behind the lies Hiccup has supposedly been telling.

Pressing his lips together, Hiccup looks the other way, unable to bear that look of satisfying victory on his opponent's face. Viggo, meanwhile, is simply enjoying this little interaction.

"Are you suggesting that I'm... that I'm... You're-you're ridiculous!" Hiccup spits his denial at him, evidently shocked at this reveal.

"Can't even say the word, can you? Is that how far they've gotten the stubborn Hiccup Haddock the Third? You can't say "woman"? "Girl"? Or even the word "female" when it comes to yourself? You disappoint me, my Dear Hiccup." Viggo asks with mockery. This is still nothing more than a game to him, as everything always is with this man. A kind of frustration only he can make Hiccup feel burns within him.

But at least there's that one thing that doesn't change. Doesn't matter who he represents as Viggo still won't stop calling him "Dear".

"How did you know?" He asks, dropping the act as it's no use to keep it up.

Spending years in hiding, he doesn't exactly show it much. He's not like Astrid, who expresses her femininity with her clothes and her grace and her statements. He's not like Ruffnut, who would scream her pride as a woman from the rooftops if they hadn't explicitly told her several times to stop shouting in the middle of the night.

As far as he knows, he doesn't act, sound, or look all that different from his guy friends. And even after the months spent on the Edge together, they still have no idea what he truly is. So how did Viggo know?

"I simply have a keen eye, my Dear." Yeah, sure he does. It took the Dragon Riders ages to correct him on his pronouns before he finally started to call him...

Oh.

"So you've known from the beginning? Why keep it to yourself all this time?" It is a good question. If he really is as observant as he claims, why hadn't he brought it up sooner?

It's not like this is the first time he's been captured by the Dragon Hunters, so why wait until now? That something might've changed scares him the most.

As if having been invited to talk more about his discovery, Viggo stands up and walks from behind his desk.

"It was odd for sure. Is this simply who Hiccup Haddock is or is there something deeper going on? It didn't take much digging before I concluded that's exactly what's going on here." It is the intro to whatever speech he has prepared, the moment he's been waiting for, what he probably specifically captured Hiccup for.

"Berk has been keeping its dragon secret quite well, despite your theatrics." Hiccup rolls his eyes. Sure, he might have a bit of a dramatic flair going on, but it's not all purely theatrical.

"Did you know that your tribe's allies still refer to you as "the runt of Berk"? "Stoick's little embarrassment"? "Stoick's mistake"? I can't imagine any of those things being said about the Dragon Rider, especially about the Dragon Rider who ended the war with the dragons. That was you, wasn't it? Isn't that how you lost your leg?" So he knows about that, too, not that he's too surprised about this one.

Viggo has come to pace behind Hiccup, his hands behind his back. His footsteps are slow, relaxed, and yet somehow methodical as well.

Hiccup tries not to let it get to him, not that or the nicknames he used to hear so much growing up. He's always despised peace treaty signings for this exact reason. That and that his father expected him to keep the visiting Chiefs' spawn entertained and most of them loved to bully Berk's runty heir. The things they used to say to him, even in his own tribe, they still affect him to this day.

"But that everyone, even your allies, felt secondhand embarrassment for you and your father wouldn't explain your need to hide, so I dug a little deeper, a little somewhere else, and then I discovered Berk's lineage. No female leaders in your nearly 400-year-old history?" Viggo asks, the sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor accompanying him.

Hiccup's silence means he's hit the nail on the head. It's the lineage, that is why he needs to hide.

His hands land on the back of the chair and Hiccup visibly tenses up as a result. His hands intertwine, legs press close, shoulders move up, jaw clenches, within a single second, Hiccup is one human-sized ball of tension.

"This is why I can't imagine how awful it must be in your position." His voice is so close, he's looming over him and that, as well as the nature of this conversation, sends chills down his spine.

Hiccup wishes he could retort, sass, say anything, but his throat has closed up.

"Berk isn't the most progressive of places, is it?" Hiccup's silence keeping its hold on him, Viggo continues to talk.

But this time, Hiccup manages a response.

"And your tribe is? Where are your warrior women, Viggo, because we haven't seen a single one so far." Hiccup moves to the side, away from Viggo. He doesn't need to look to know that his smile is still there. He's not going to respond to that one.

"What do you want people to call you? Are you truly satisfied going through life as someone you're not?" Satisfied? Of course, he isn't satisfied.

He's never told his friends this, but he's jealous of his female friends. Astrid, Ruffnut, Heather, he knows at least two of them were never ostracized for being a runt and for being useless. And they certainly haven't needed to prove their worth by fighting a dragon nearly the size of a volcano, lost a leg, and trained the dragons of Berk only to be forced to continue to hide.

He's resentful, too. Yeah, he's resentful. Some might claim he isn't capable of such an emotion, but that nagging feeling choking his heart is a familiar one.

As if able to tell the rush of emotions, Viggo leans in just a tad bit closer and suddenly his hands are on his shoulders. Not even on the pauldrons, but on the armor itself, close to his neck. There's a slight trembling he has a hard time suppressing. He does like that Viggo thinks he can just invade his personal space like this.

"Can I make you an offer?" The older man leans in closer, his lips right next to his ear.

"What about a place where you don't need to hide? A place where you can just be yourself, the woman you were meant to be from birth. Strong, intelligent, powerful, a true Mistress of Dragons." A place like that doesn't exist, not for him, but Viggo isn't quite done yet.

"A place next to me." And there it is. The tone in his voice always dips when they're alone, but this time it dips even deeper and Hiccup isn't sure how to feel about it. Afraid? Something else?

The suggestion isn't as tempting as he'd like it to be, however, because the Grimborns and their men still hunt dragons for a living, some even for sport. That isn't a community he can even consider living in.

But it is nice to dream, though. A life where responding to "she" and "her" instead of "he" and "him" is possible.

If only he hadn't been born an heir to a tribe that couldn't possibly accept a Chief that is both a woman and a runt. If only he hadn't been born an heir.

"Are you thinking about it? About what you could become? What we could become?" Viggo's hold on him tightens, but not in an entirely uncomfortable way. Or rather, Hiccup supposes it isn't supposed to be discomforting.

"What's in it for you?" Hiccup forces himself to bypass the lump in his throat in order to ask. Because Viggo isn't offering this out of the kindness of his heart.

"New opportunities." That's the only answer the man will give him and Hiccup is left to guess what exactly these opportunities may be.

So he's no longer interested in beating them or having a truce then? Viggo has never hidden his interest in his young foe, but has never made this offer before.

One hand moves closer to his neck, fingers curling so the back of them can caress his skin. At the same time, his index finger and thumb grab small locks of his hair to play with. The other hand, it moves down just a bit and sneaks the tip of his finger beneath his armor. Hiccup's breathing grows labored.

There's a sense of excitement that he doesn't like. Because these are kinds of touches he doesn't let the Riders do in fear of being discovered. Not even Astrid, his girlfriend, can get too many touches in. The Riders, not knowing about this secret, believe it's because he just doesn't like to be touched. They respect this, whenever they remember to.

This must be why Viggo's fingers have this effect on him, because of how touch-starved he is to protect this secret his forebears forced onto him. That just makes him hate it even more.

"Are you thinking about my offer?" He repeats his question in that same low tone.

Hiccup's hands may be shackled together, but he's not tied to the chair, so he brings an end to this conversation by getting up before those hands can travel a little further. He could sense their intent to, could feel his armor lift just a tad.

Now pouting, Viggo watches Hiccup walk away from him.

"That won't happen. You hunt dragons and I save them. Don't forget that we're at war for a reason, Viggo." He tells the other, turning his head sharply to look at him from over his shoulder.

"This-this-this... fantasy! This fantasy won't work out. It will never work out! So don't bother trying to get me to your side, no matter what type of deal you try to make with me, I refuse to take it." He raises his voice, ignoring the stinging and the burning in his throat as the urge for tears wells up within him.

A fantasy, that's what the idea of him ever being himself, herself, is. A fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less.

Swallowing and taking a breath, he pushes that realization to the back of his mind. His mind.

But Viggo straightens and his amusement is gone as he approaches. Hiccup's stubbornness and his refusal to show his fear in the face of his enemy doesn't allow him to back away, but he can feel his heart thumping inside his chest.

"It wasn't a fantasy, far from it, it was a fair deal to save you from further humiliation. I'm sure you've suffered quite a bit of that in your young life, I had simply assumed you didn't want any more. But I see that I was a fool." The game picks right back up where it left off and Hiccup is left to wonder where it'll go this time.

He hasn't only declined, but essentially made fun of it, too, and that can't feel good to a man as prideful as he is.

"What do you mean?" He tries to keep his voice strong, unwavering, but he can't help the sense of anxiety that he feels when he asks.

"I have this information, do you expect me not to use it? I'm sure there are tribes, both ally and foe, that would be very interested to hear about Berk's heir. I'm also quite interested in knowing how Berk is going to react. Do the Riders know?"

"NO!" At that, Hiccup has quite the reaction and Viggo maliciously smiles once more.

The rational part of him knows his friends will accept him and won't reject him for this, but even so, that fear lingers. It's been ingrained into him since birth that nobody wants a runt, let alone a runt that's also a... So there is still a part of him that wonders how they are going to be any different from the rest.

Hiccup looks down, ashamed for the way he responded. He has just given the exact reaction Viggo is looking for.

"How about an ultimatum? Join me or the Dragon Riders will know. Refuse a second time and Berk will know. Refuse a third time, your allies. Can you guess what will happen if you refuse for a fourth time?" Viggo asks, satisfied with this perfectly cruel choice. He has always loved a good game. So long as it's in his favor, of course.

Hiccup stares at him, unable to hide his fear and the growing tears.

This is the day he has always been afraid would come, the day someone finds out and uses it against him like he has been warned it would. Ever since taking on this role of protecting dragons and facing countless of enemies, he has been afraid. Even before Toothless, when he was just Berk's embarrassment, he was afraid.

And now it's here.

If anybody finds out, he'll be shunned and bullied and belittled and thought of as worthless all over again. He can't bear to go back to those days. He can't bear being hated again for being born the way he is.

And yet...

"I guess you're going to have to... tell them." He can bear to see the Hunter harm dragons even less and so he refuses and in his mind doom himself to a life branded as the shame of his father. At least he'll still have Toothless.

Though not happy with this answer, Viggo isn't surprised.

"Shame, we could've had something great together, could've created some greats things, but you leave me no choice." He tells him. Hiccup casts his gaze downwards, a sense of panic is threatening to choke the breath out of him, but he has given the Hunter Chief his answer and he doesn't plan on taking it back.

"Shame, a real shame," Viggo remarks some more. He'd given Hiccup the chance to change his mind, but it didn't happen.

Then, as if sensing the dreadful end of this conversation, an explosion rocks the entire ship that they're on, throwing the two off-balance.

Slamming into the older man, Hiccup, and Viggo both make a tumble towards the floor, one ending up on top of the other.

"Dragon Riders!" The call is faint, almost too soft to hear, but it's Hiccup's cue to get out of here.

Using his cuffed hands, Hiccup strikes upward against Viggo's face with such force that it breaks his nose powered by nothing but the want to escape. He leaves the man no choice but to take a moment as a burning pain burst free.

Hiccup takes this opportunity to run, climbing to his feet and going for the door.

Toothless has to be here on this ship, too, they've been captured together.

As luck would have it, while he runs down the corridor, Toothless appears and their gazes meet.

"Toothless!" They meet each other halfway, both running to reunite and the dragon pushes the flat top of his head into Hiccup's torso, urging him to grab hold for as much as his tied wrists allow it for a brief hug.

"I'm happy to see you, too, Bud. We have to hurry and leave."

"Just what I was thinking." Astrid pops up as well, having been the one to free Toothless and letting him guide her straight towards Hiccup, always homed in on him.

"Come on," Axe in one hand, Astrid grabs one of Hiccup's in her other and pulls him along towards the deck of the ship, dodging Hunters and bracing for impact with each hit delivered by the other Dragon Riders.

They reach the deck soon enough and while Astrid and Stormfly reunite, Hiccup climbs in Toothless' saddle and the four of them take off towards the sky, the others providing them with cover fire.

"Dragon Riders, we're heading back to the Edge!" Hiccup orders. There were only two ships and they're both sinking, no use sticking around.

"Wow, we're happy to see you, too. Just a nice "Hello!" would've been fine, though." Snotlout teases Hiccup from on top of Hookfang. From what he can see, Hiccup is fine, so he thinks he's allowed to.

"Snotlout!"

"No, Astrid, he's kinda right. I'm happy to see you guys, too. Now let's go home." Hiccup stops Astrid from lecturing the other Rider. Barf and Belch, Ruff and Tuff, Fishlegs, and Meatlug join back up with them and the group heads for home.

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

The Dragon Hunters didn't get too far away with their prisoners, but still, it took a good hour of flying before the Dragon Riders arrive on the Edge.

The six Riders and one Dragon are in the clubhouse now, removing the cuffs and cleaning the chafing that they'd caused on his palms. Or Astrid is. Snotlout and the twins are off to the side, declaring their undying hatred for the Hunters while Fishlegs prods Toothless incessantly for possible injuries that may need treating.

"But I need to take a look at you!" Fishlegs exclaims when the dragon moves away again, much to Toothless' annoyance as he just wants to be left alone.

Astrid, who had been watching the rather amusing chase around the room, looks at Hiccup to see his reaction only to find none.

He's been down ever since his rescue. And though, being kidnapped can't exactly be called pleasant, Astrid feels like something else might be going on here.

She dabs his palms with a clean cloth soaked in water a few more times before she speaks up.

"You're not going to say anything?" She asks gently.

"Hmm?"

"About Fishlegs and Toothless."

At this, Hiccup looks up to see what's going on, Snotlout and the twins betting in the background how much longer it'll take for Toothless to get angry.

"Fishlegs, he's just tired and wants to be left alone. So leave him be." It may have sounded a little sterner than he intended it to, but it only further validated Astrid's assumption that something is up.

Turning their attention back to his stinging hands, she has to ask.

"So what's wrong?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I just feel like something is the matter. You know you can always tell me, so do you want to talk about it?" She offers herself up as a listening ear.

"Nothing is wrong, just the usual Viggo with his stupid threats." Hiccup tells her, deciding against sharing details about their talk for reasons that are obvious to him.

"Oh no, what was it this time?" Astrid asks, remarking on this being a very frequent occurrence.

Hiccup looks her in the eye and seemingly thinks about something for a good few moments.

Should he tell her?

He stares at her fiercely blue eyes, the long blond hair he loves so much, can feel her hands caring for him as she waits for an answer. Then he looks around the clubhouse, gazing at each of his friends when he finds them. Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut, just joking around and relieving the stress of the day.

He doesn't need to look at Toothless, who has settled on the floor behind him now that he has some peace. He has known from the start, all the dragons have, and they don't care what he is.

Looking at them all, fear wins. He's been so long without this, friendship, fun, just people who like him, you name it. He realizes he doesn't want to lose any of it.

"Hiccup?" Astrid says his name, thinking he's lost in thought.

"It's really just the usual, truce, or die." He tells her and if he reaches far enough, he can explain his lying as being technically not lying. Because what was basically a marriage proposal from one enemy to another is like a truce and revealing a secret such as his to the world is like a kind of death.

"Are you sure? We all know Viggo isn't pleasant to be around, especially for you. So we'll understand if you feel a little awful. Or a lot." Astrid tells him, lifting a hand to lay on his cheek.

Hiccup's eyes flit towards it as its warmth ends up on his skin and he needs to keep a hold on his breath, having a hard time keeping it under control. It's the biggest drawback to a lack of physical touch, the fact that every little thing makes his skin burn with a desire for more.

Astrid suddenly remembers Hiccup's believed aversion to touch, but before she can act on her realization and pull away, Hiccup leans into her hand. So she keeps it there, smiling as every little moment she gets to have with her boyfriend like this is a precious one.

But she has a point, he does feel awful. Viggo's offer and following threat aside, Hiccup hasn't been able to get his touches out of his head. He hates how they made him feel, still make him feel, Astrid's in comparison are much more enjoyable.

And then there is that deep, dark part of him that wants more.

Noticing Hiccup savoring her touch, she grows a little more daring and places her free hand on his other cheek and Hiccup takes her wrist and keeps them there, sighing in content.

Her hands are warm, they're soft though still calloused, and they belong to his girlfriend.

This moment makes Astrid wonder just why Hiccup doesn't like to be touched if he's taking such delight out of this. To her, this just screams a desire for more, and she's sad that he won't allow himself to have more for reasons he hasn't shared with them yet.

Meanwhile, Hiccup is savoring every second he gets because he knows this may be one of the last times he will get to enjoy it. There is no doubt in his mind that Viggo will make good on his threat and that means all of this, Astrid, the Gang, might end soon. It sounds like nonsense, but this fear is real to him.

So he holds Astrid's hands, hoping he can enjoy her warmth just a little while longer before he inevitably loses it all, all over again.

33 notes · View notes

drariellevalentine · 4 years

Text

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 3- Eye-widening Events

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen, Ethan Ramsey, Diana Hudson, Kyra Santana, Bryce Lahela

Pairing:- Arielle Valentine x Ethan Ramsey

Warnings:- Death, Miscarriages, PTSD etc.

General PoV:-

Sunlight peeks through the blush tinted curtains in Arielle’s bedroom. Her most relatable song “Older”, by Sasha Sloan plays from her phone, waking her gently. She rises slowly from her queen sized bed, taking her time to follow through her morning routine. After witnessing a vivid sunrise with the accompaniment of a cup of tea, she pins her hair up and steps in her shower. One relaxing shower later, she goes into her walk-in closet and slips on the outfit she picked out last night- a raspberry velvet fitted top paired with white leggings and white pumps. If there’s one thing that Arielle Cerise Valentine loves, it’s jewellery. She goes to the other end of her closet and slips on a pair of matching earrings. Lastly, her mother’s pendant necklace. She felt it was calling to her. After finishing her usual makeup routine and fishtail braid, she steps into the living room, following a delicious scent.

Arielle’s PoV:-

I step into the kitchen to find Sienna and the others laying out a huge breakfast spread. “Oh my god! Guys, when did you even find the time to do this?”

“We wanted to thank you and we all thought we should have a nice roomie breakfast.”, says Sienna.

We all take a seat and eat as much as we possibly could. “Sienna, I swear you had a private chef help you whip up this stuff. It’s so delicious.” Everybody agrees. Sienna blushes and thanks everyone.

“Anyways, I hooked up the TV and bass speakers last night! We are officially ready for a housewarming party!, says Elijah. Everyone starts chiming in ideas for the party, as Sienna notes them down on her phone. We all give her a share of money for the party and decide Sienna and me will go shopping later.

A little while later...

“Have you guys heard the rumours?”, asks Elijah.

“About what?”, you innocently ask.

“About Banerji suddenly quitting.”, Jackie nonchalantly says.

“What?”, Landry exclaims. You nearly spit out your food. “Naveen...quitting! No! It can’t be.”, your mind races.

Landry keeps on rambling, “No going away party?....No announcement?...”

You can’t believe it. Your mind goes to the events of last night, where your godfather and Dr. Ramsey were arguing. Snaps snaps you out of your reverie. “It’s getting late, Ari. You should head for your shift.” You wave goodbye to everyone and head down to the parking lot. Sliding into your Lexus, you drive towards Edenbrook.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You step out of your car, having parked it at your usual spot. You’re about to head inside when you receive a page. Apparently, one of your residents decided to go golfing. You’re about to head inside when you see a rose gold Lexus park next to your BMW. “I’ve never seen this car before, and an excellent driver too.”, he thinks. Out steps a chic dressed woman with a little bag on her back. “Who is this woman?”, you wonder. And that’s when it catches your eye, the violet ombré at the end of her braid. She locks her car, slipping her keys into her pocket while putting on her white coat. “Rookie.”

She looks up, her violet irises laced with surprise. “Dr. Ramsey, Good Morning!”, she says with a cheerful smile. You greet her back. She turns to leave, not wanting for her to leave you say, “Wait. Follow me.” She drops off her belongings and wordlessly follows me. You lead her to the patient who’s doctor decided to ditch his job.

The patient lights up at the sight of her, I mean who wouldn’t! “Goddamnit Ramsey, what is wrong with you today!”

“Are you my doctor?”, the patient asks.

Arielle turns to me with a questioning look.

“This is Kyra Santana. Her doctor decided to ditch his responsibilities so she’s yours now.”

“Ooh yes! Show me off!”, Kyra exclaims.

Arielle chuckles while picking up her chart. “Kyra Santana, age 28, fractured radius in need of casting.”

“Is that all?”, you ask.

“Yes.”, she answers.

“Kyra, tell Dr. Valentine what is actually wrong with you.”

“I’m afraid it’s cancer, my very hot doctor.”

“What?”, Arielle frowns in confusion.

“Check the cell count on the last page, indicating of?...”, you probe.

“Large cell neuroendocrine carcinoma!”

“Yeah, in my left lung.”

“Dr. Valentine, sometimes the problem isn’t always in front of us. You should thoroughly read through a patient’s chart. Nowadays, they let pretty much anyone become healthcare professionals.”

“If you’re here for cancer treatment, how did you break your arm?”

“I saw a bike abandoned by the subway and tried to ride it. Apparently, I’m not very good at it.”, she says gesturing to her arm.

“YOLO huh?”, she laughs.

Kyra laughs.

“Dr. Valentine, what is Kyra’s treatment plan?”

“Well, first we need to cast her arm and then”-

You interrupt her, “Good. Now do that.” You swiftly exit the room.

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Wait! What about”-

“Don’t worry, female version of McDreamy, I already have a treatment plan and a CT scheduled right after this.”

“You should know that I’m straight, but I totally support 🏳️‍🌈.”, you ramble in a worry that Kyra might take offence.

She starts laughing so hard, “I was teasing you, I know that you are straight.”

Feeling embarrassed you say, “Let’s cast that arm, shall we.” You cast it firmly.

“Would you like to sign my cast?”, you write ‘Miss McDreamy’ on it. “Damn! You have legible.. no really pretty handwriting.”, Kyra says. You thank and wave to her.

Later, you are running an errand for Ines. “ Hey Arielle, do me a favour and give these labs to Dr. Ramsey. He’ll be in Room 413.”

You enter the room looking at your pager and say, “Excuse me Dr. Ramsey, Dr. Delarosa asked me to”- You finally look up to see Chief Emery with her hand on his cheek, whispering furtively but quietly. “Oh!...um...I...I’ll just leave these here.” You can bet a million bucks that your cheeks just turned 50 shades of red. You run out of the room and accidentally bump into someone.

“Sorry!”

“Hey Elle!”

“Elle?”

“Yeah, short for Arielle.”

“Okay.” You notice Kyra sitting a bed. “And where are you off to, Madam Flatterer?”

“About to be prepped for a lobectomy, assisted by yours truly.”

“What?!”

“After the CT scan results came back, it kind of happened pretty fast.”

You pull Bryce aside. “Take care of her for me.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Zimmerman is an amazing surgeon.”

“She’ll be golden.”

“Woah! I never thought I’d see Dr. McDreamy fighting with another Dr. McDreamy.”, you laugh as Bryce wheels Kyra into the OR.

You head down into the ER to see if there are any cases, where you see Aurora, whose ass is being kissed. “Hey Aurora.”

“What?”

“I said hi. It’s legal to greet someone.”

“Well it shouldn’t be.” Just then, you hear the ambulance siren. You both rush to the entrance as the ambulance doors’ open.

A very muscular paramedic steps out, helping an unconscious woman with an oxygen mask on.

“Diana Hudson, office fire, all of her coworkers got out but she’s pregnant and couldn’t move fast enough.”

“How long has she been unconscious?”, you ask.

“She fainted in the ambulance.”

“Serious smoke inhalation, but I hope I got them out in time.”

“ Wait? You got them out! What about the firefighters?”

“They were taking too long.”, he says with a shrug.

“That was really brave of you. Not many people would have done that...”

“Rafael Aveiro.”

“Dr. Arielle Valentine.”

“I’ll see you around, Dr. Valentine.”

After Diana gets admitted, you search her phone for her emergency contacts. You’re scrolling down when one particular contact catches your eye. ‘Dr. Ethan Ramsey’

“No way!” You rush to Dr. Ramsey’s office and knock. “Come in.”

You enter the room. “What do you want, Rookie?”

“I was going through my patient’s emergency contacts when I saw your name. Do you know a Diana Hudson?”

“Diana?” He follows me to the patient’s room as I told him what happened.

You enter the room and are relieved to find Diana awake.

“Hi Diana, I’m”-

“Ethan!”, the woman exclaims.

“Diana! What have you gotten into this time?”

“There was a fire and I couldn’t get out. Luckily, you had Superman on payroll!” You laugh.

“I’ll call your sisters and fly them in from Arizona. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Diana, this is Dr. Valentine. Dr. Valentine, Diana was my first patient when I was an intern.”

“What were you in for?”

“Burst appendix, I was totally freaked out but Ethan calmed me down. Even kept in touch over the years.”

“That’s so sweet!”, you exclaim.

You take a stethoscope and warm it on your palm. “So, was Dr. Ramsey always like this?”

“Oh yes, he’s aged like a fine wine, don’t you think?”, she teasingly says that leaves you giggling.

“Dr. Valentine, the examination if you don’t mind.”

You run the resonator and take all her vitals.

“Did the EMT manage to get my purse?” You hand it to her. She searches for something and frowns.

“Is everything alright, Diana?, you ask.

“Yeah, it’s just I saw this adorable stuffed frog and thought it would have been perfect for my little tadpole here, I know it’s silly.”

“No it’s not. It’s absolutely beautiful, in fact Dr. Ramsey and I can go and get it for you.” You give him a pleading look. He agrees and you both step out of the room.

“How are her vitals?”

“They’re all fine, but her breathing is short and her elevated B.P should be low. I’ll order a chest x-ray and a urine sample.

“Good work. Drop off the labs and meet me at the hospital’s entrance in 10 minutes.”

You get the sample and order the x-ray, then walk towards the entrance, leaving your white coat behind. You see Dr. Ramsey, sitting in the driver’s seat of a BMW. You ride shotgun.

“Nice car, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Thank you.”

He turns on the radio and a concerto comes on.

“So...Are you and Chief Emery.. um...in a relationship?”, you tentatively ask.

“I don’t advertise my private life at work.”

“We’re not at work.”, you counter.

He sighs, “Before she became Chief, we were in an on and off relationship. As of last year, no.”

“What about you?” You’re surprised.

“I ended a six year relationship two months ago. He was jealous that I had gotten matched into Edenbrook and he didn’t, so he decided to screw with my then best friend.”, you confide. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“It’s fine. And for what it’s worth, you should never let anybody hinder your career.”

“Trust me, I learned that lesson a long time ago.” He shoots you a look. Luckily, you’ve arrived at the burning building.

You exit the car and say, “Let’s hope it didn’t fall there.”, gesturing to the raging inferno. You and him scan the surroundings for the little toy. You’re about to give up when... “Look!” He points to a drain, where a green toy is stuck. You both rush and take a look, it’s deep and dark.

“Hell no. I am not going down there! Haven’t you seen IT?”

“It’s just a movie, anyways you won’t be able to reach it.”

“Can you hold my waist?”

“What?”, he looks at you like you’re an idiot.

“I’m very flexible. I can reach down there and grab it with a flashlight but I’ll fall down because I don’t have any support. If you hold me...”

“Fine.”

You lay down and wiggle your upper body down into the drain while he holds your lower waist tightly.

You twist incredibly low and he has to hold your hips instead. “Almost there.....Got it!”

Dr. Ramsey pulls you up from the waist. “How did you manage to get that?”

“A girl’s got to have some secrets.” He hands you a towel to wipe yourself off and a little bag for the plastic toy.

“I’ll get this sterilised and given to Diana.”

“I’ve never seen someone go to this lengths for their patient.”

“Well I’m not like most doctors.”

“Well you could have done it to impress me.” You arrive at Edenbrook.

“Not really. When Diana was telling us about the little frog she bought for her baby, you could see that beautiful smile on her face. There’s nothing more beautiful than a mother’s love towards her child.” You see Dr. Ramsey tense up, but you decide to say nothing. Thanking him for the ride you head inside.

Some time later, Danny hands you the results for Diana. You’re reading through them when, your heart stops. Diana has preeclampsia, the same diagnosis your mother had 24 years ago. You rush to find Dr. Ramsey and hand him the charts. His face falls.

“They’re in serious trouble, aren’t they.”, you say sadly.

“Come on, Rookie. Let’s go tell her.” Your face falls as you imagine her face. “That’s the job, Rookie. Nothing we can do about it.”

You enter the room and Diana notices your faces. “What is it?”

“Have you heard of preeclampsia, Diana? It’s a condition that affects 1 out of 10 pregnant women. It means that the blood flow from your placenta is slowing down, depriving the baby of vital nutrients.”

“Does that mean my little tadpole is in trouble?”

“No, it just means that we’ll have to deliver the baby earlier.”, he says.

“No, I won’t. It’s too early. If he’s not in danger right now, then I won’t.”

“Diana, listen. I know this is scary but if you wait, it might be too late. There are post-birth complications but this is the best way.”

“No, I won’t.” Dr. Ramsey leaves the room.

You turn to her, desperate, with tears in your eyes, “I know what it’s like Diana. My mother had preeclampsia too. She was in the exact same place as you, and by waiting, it cost us a great deal. But I survived, I’m living proof. Please don’t wait. A child should never have to grow up without their mother. It’s the worst form of torture a child could ever face.” Realising tears are streaming down your face, you rapidly leave the room and accidentally crash into someone.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You look up to see Bryce. He wipes your tears and pulls you aside.

“It’s okay, it’s just one of my patients hit really close to home.”

“A beautiful face like yours shouldn’t cry. Come with me, I am making it my personal mission to cheer you up. He leads you to a milkshake bar a few blocks away and orders a large Oreo milkshake with a ton of ice cream.

“You really know the way to a girl’s heart. I mean it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyways, you remind me of my sister, she’s all the way in Hawaii. So you can be my little teenage sister.”

“I’m not that young.”, you roll your eyes.

“How old are you?”

“24.”

“I’m 27.”

“So what? I graduated a few years early.”

The huge milkshake arrives. Bryce grabs two spoons and hands one to you.

“Dig in!” Between the two of you, you manage to finish the whole thing.

“That was absolutely delightful.” You open your wallet but Bryce doesn’t let you.

“No way am I letting you pay!”

He pays and you both exit the store. Suddenly your pager beeps. “911 for Diana! I gotta go, bye!”

You rush towards the hospital and run into the waiting room, breathless. You find Dr. Ramsey sitting in one of the chairs, attempting to speak you end up coughing. He looks up. You’re finally able to speak. “Wh...what happened..Dr. Ramsey?”, you manage to ask with your chest heaving.

“Diana had a seizure. The baby’s just been delivered via c-section. It’s 50-50 he’ll survive the night.” Your heart tightens. “Diana?”

“She died.” Your throat tightens, it’s hard to breathe. You take deep breaths, recalling what your psychologist said. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Ramsey”-

“I’m fine.” He gets up and leaves; turning around to say, “Go home, Arielle.” He leaves. You can’t find it in your heart to leave and find your legs leading you to the NICU. You step inside and find Dr. Lozoya.

“Is is okay if I give this toy to him? His mother would have wanted him to have it. It’s been sterilised.”

“Of course. Poor thing, we’ll know in the morning.”

She leaves, leaving you alone. You place the little tadpole near the baby.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eye catches the name. ‘Ethan Hudson.’ You want to help him but don’t know how. You start humming one of your favourite arias. One that your mother used to sing as you stand near the cube.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You receive word from one of the nurses that Diana’s baby is in the NICU. You’re walking near when you hear a mesmerising voice, humming a very well known French aria. You follow the voice and find Arielle humming, standing near the baby.

“What are you doing here? I told you to go home.”

“I don’t like the fact that he has to fight for his life alone. I’m staying with him.”

“Do you mind if I can join you?”

“Not at all.”

You sit beside her on the loveseat.

“Ethan...”, she whispers. You’re shocked that she just called you by your first name.

“Excuse me?”

She doesn’t break her trance. Instead she answers, “Ethan...the baby’s name is Ethan, Ethan Hudson. She named him after you.”

You’re speechless. Your eyes flash towards the name tag. “She was right, she had named him after you.”, you think. Your throat tightens.

“You must have known her pretty well.”

“I did. I didn’t have many friends back then. I just meant to check on her, knowing that my patients were out there, living their live to the fullest,.. it really kept me going. She was recently divorced and feeling alone, so she insisted we meet for coffee. It turned into more emails and coffees, and Sunday roasts in between.”

You can see that her eyes are red. “Does it ever get easier?”, she asks.

“Grieving for the loss of a patient isn’t a bad thing. I would be more concerned if you didn’t. To answer your question, we have a certain process when it comes to... the end stage. It helps the family to cope a bit more easier.” Her face remains the same.

“The first patient I lost was in my 4th week. I didn’t make any mistakes though. He had an inoperable malignant tumour in his brain. He wasn’t much older than I am now. It was hard.” She turns to look at you, her violet irises meeting yours.

“She trusted us, she trusted her life and her baby’s. Maybe if I had talked to her some more, she would have agreed sooner.”

“She gave her consent to the surgery, but she had a seizure in between. She said to me that you were the one who had convinced her. How did you do it?”

She takes a deep breath. “I...My mother was diagnosed with preeclampsia in her late third trimester. Since my brother was perfectly healthy, she didn’t want to deliver me yet and kept putting it off. “It...”, her voice breaks. “It cost her her life.”

“I’m so sorry, Arielle. You should have told me, I would have taken you off this case.”

“Do you know what the worst part is? She was fine, after she gave birth. We were all so happy that she had survived, and then a day later, she died. An artery was slightly nicked, causing internal bleeding. They didn’t notice until it was too late.” Tears are streaming down her face.

You wipe them away. “I thought, at least I could save her, but I couldn’t.”

She wipes her face and says, “I’m sorry, I’m the one who’s supposed to be offering condolences.”

“It’s okay.” She wordlessly places her hand on your thigh. You place your hand on top of hers. You see her drift off to sleep and you do the same.

“Bzzzt....Bzzzt...” You wake up to see Arielle, fallen asleep on your shoulder. And then, you see baby Ethan, his heartbeat strong. A smile spreads across your lips.

“Arielle....Arielle?” You gently tap her cheek.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You faintly hear someone calling your name. Your eyes flutter open to Dr. Ramsey’s face. You realise that you’ve been resting your head on his shoulder. You jerk up and apologise, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Your shirt’s ruined!” Your cheeks turn red for the second time today. “It’s alright. Look.” He points to baby Ethan’s cubicle. You suddenly remember where you are and jump up and rush over to see. There he is lying peacefully, breathing in and out, heart beating strong. “Je suis si fier de toi petit têtard. Tu ressembles à ta mère.(I’m so proud of you, little tadpole. You look just like your mother.)”, you whisper in French to the baby.

“Tu parles français?(You speak French?), he asks.

“Oui. Très couramment en fait. Ma mère est ... était française.(Yes. Quite fluently actually. My mother is...was French.), you reply.

Your pager buzzes. “Crap! I have rounds in 20 minutes.”

“You should go.” You turn to leave. “Thank you Arielle.”

“You’re welcome.” You leave the room and head towards the locker room to shower and change.

Thrity minutes into the shift, and suddenly the central paging system goes off, asking all the medical interns to gather in the atrium.

Sighing, I ask Sarah to run a blood test of my patient in room 508 before hurrying down the halls.

God knows what happened this time!

"Any idea what's wrong?" I nudge Jackie reaching the group in the atrium. Sienna is yet to join us but everyone else is here.

Jackie just shrugs.

A few minutes later Sienna joins us. "What happened guys?"

"No idea," I answer as Elijah and Landry is fanning over some comic.

"Good morning interns," Dr.Emery tries to grab our attention.

She's standing in front us, near the reception desk, Dr. Ramsey standing by her side. And unlike Dr. Emery he seems angry and exasperate.

"As many of you may have heard, Dr. Banerji is now a person of early retirement," She starts. Your mind starts racing again, no matter how much you try to calm it.

“Dr. Banerji is retiring? But why? He loves treating patients, saving lives. There's no way he wants to leave all this on his own.”, you think. Harper Emery keeps saying things but I can hardly concentrate.

“He left. I won’t be able to talk to him, apologize to him, bond with him.” All my hope shatters.

"-which leaves and empty position in the Diagnostics team. And this year you guys will be competing each other for that position. Dr. Ramsey will explain you the rest."

That's the last thing I hear her say before Dr. Ramsey takes over.

"We'll be evaluating you every week on the basis of how well you solve your cases."

"Your weekly evaluation result will be published in the announcement board every week," he continues. "Anyone who wants to join drop by my office before midnight tomorrow to sign up your names."

"You all can go and resume your regular activities now," Dr. Emery smiles before walking away.

Dr. Ramsey too walks away but towards the hall where construction of the new block is going on.

"I can't believe they will be taking interns on their beloved Diagnostics Team!" Landry says surprised.

"Development of the interns must be so important to them," Sienna says thoughtfully and Jackie scoffs.

Leaving the group to talk I rush after Dr. Ramsey.

“Dr. Ramsey, wait," I call after him. He stops and turns around.

"I- is this what you were talking about with Dr. Emery yesterday?"

"Yes," he sighs.

"But you said that we aren’t ready yet."

"Because you aren’t," he stops then again continues thoughtfully, " But are any of us truly ready for anything."

He says, walking away leaving me alone to deal with my thoughts.

“Naveen left. I don’t know where he lives, why he left; hell! I don’t even know if he’s in the US or not.”

“Cosa farò adesso!?(What will I do now!?)”, you scream in Italian.

#playchoices #open heart #ohsy #ethanjonahramsey #modern au #ethan x mc #collab #fantiction

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