#held me at gunpoint until i wrote it
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kiss me slowly
pairing: kageyama tobio x reader
word count: 1,9k
summary: tobio has been in love with you, his older sisters best friend for years. after all these years, he's feelings are strong as ever when he comes back home to japan during the holidays, and mistress luck turns out to be smiling upon him.
tags/cw: fluff, kisses, best friends younger brother!kageyama tobio, mutual pining, not beta read, also not edited we die like neji. bare with me, i'm concussed and wrote this thing on paper before hastily typing it in here.
the first time kageyama kissed you, he might have sworn he could’ve passed out right then and there. maybe he already had. maybe he’d passed away and ascended to heaven. that was probably it, because your lips against his felt like nothing short of his own personal heaven.
kageyama tobio had loved you from afar for years upon years, but he’d never known how to convey these feelings to you. it was a wondrous feeling. intoxicating. but it also hurt. it ached so deep and heavy in his chest that when he was younger, he’d sometimes wished he’d never met you at all. wished that his sister had picked a different best friend.
as he grew older, those wishes seized. although he would sometimes still wonder if it’d been easier. better. if he’d never known you. as if that choice had ever been his to make. he did wonder, but after moving to italy in pursuit of his volleyball career, those thoughts subsided, along with the memories of you.
that was at least what tobio though, but then came around the first holidays where held been able to travel back to japan, since joining ali roma. they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. it wasn’t a saying that tobio had ever really given any thought. at all. but then he crossed the threshold of his childhood home, removed his shoes in the genkan, stepped inside, and there you were. he knew that miwa was going to be home as well. for some reason though, despite knowing that you and his sister were still very much attached by the hip, he hadn’t expected to see you standing right there. in his kitchen. smiling. at him. and talking. to him. shit. you were talking to him.
“— grown so much! welcome home!” and as you rounded the table and pulled him into a hug, all he could muster was one single breathless word.
“… yeah.”
when you pulled back, he thought for a spilt second that you lingered, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. but then you were already stepping back towards the kitchen counter and he must’ve imagined it. he must’ve. but he knew that he hadn’t imagined the way his heart hammered in his chest and his palms got clammy.
“still quite the talker, hm?” you chirped. “i’m preparing snacks for miwa and i. you want any?” okay. so maybe his feelings had never really subsided after all. instead, they’d been buried deep inside, during a time where he hadn’t been faced with these feelings and the subject of them, close to every single day.
throughout tobio’s time back in japan, things only got worse. or maybe they got better? tobio had no way of knowing at the time, how the ache is his chest would soon be soothed. all that he knew was that you hung out with miwa on the daily, and seeing you that often was both a blessing and a curse. more often than not, you and miwa would insisted that he joined. that he watched movies with the two of you. had drinks with the two of you. spent time with the two of you, interrogated about his life in italy. and he did. because as much as it hurt, he still wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could. be as close as he could. but in doing so, tobio found it harder and harder not to think about you. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. he shouldn’t. but the thoughts and the desires kept intruding on his brain and he knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop.
gradually, you started spending even more time at the house, even when miwa wasn’t home. some foolish part of tobio’s brain couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you came around for him. couldn’t help but hope that that was the case.
on that particular day, he almost convinced himself when you knocked on the door to his room. almost.
tobio was splayed out on his bed, tossing a volleyball into the air. over and over. toss. catch. toss. catch. toss. catch. it helped him focus. helped him remember the feeling against his fingertips. even more so, it helped him keep himself together in your presence.
“where’s miwa?” he asked, eyes trained on the ball. as if he wasn’t the one living under the same roof as her. as if you were the most likely to know. but truly, mostly because whenever he talked to you, his brain went blank. completely and utterly, and his tongue desperately tried to compensate, which always turned to questions like that.
“out. probably still at work, i think,” you said, shrugging. toss. catch. that made sense. toss. catch.
“oh. yeah.” toss. catch. toss.
“i can go if you’d rather be alone.” catch.
“no i–” his tossing halted for a moment as he looked at you. “stay,” he said. he didn’t want you to leave. he lowered his arms, ball still perched on the tips of his fingers. he wanted you to stay. and he wanted you to keep smiling at him like that. and you did.
“alright,” you said, leaning back in the chair you’d occupied since you’d come into his childhood room. there’s a short pause, but you never stop smiling as you look into his eyes. he wants to look away. he doesn’t want to look away. ever. “italy sounds magical,” you then said. he nodded but didn’t say anything, tongue tying on knots as he took you in. “does it ever get lonely all the way over there?”
“I–” that was unexpected. he thought it over for a moment. tossed the ball back into the air, and caught it as gravity did it’s thing, pulling it back down. “hm. maybe sometimes.”
“you know, if you’re lonely, miwa and i would love to come visit.” did you know how his heart hammered in his chest? did you realize how much he wanted you to visit him? did you have any idea just how much he wanted you, and just you? toss. catch. toss. catch. “tobio.”
“hm?” he hummed. toss. catch.
“if you don’t stop tossing that ball while i’m talking to you, i’m going to steal it.” toss. catch. he stopped again. looked over at you. hadn’t even realized when he’d looked away. when he’d started tossing the ball again. it just happened.
“sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“if you don’t want me to come, that’s fine btw. you don’t have to–”
“no.” he didn’t mean to be so stumped in his answers. but he couldn’t help it. his brain was spinning with the thought of you in his apartment in italy. you in his kitchen. you in his living room. on his couch. in his bed. he shook his head. toss. catch. “i would love that.” toss. catch. toss. catch. you moved beside him. his gaze flicked to you, the moment the ball was in the air. the split second before you were on him.
“told you i’d steal it!” you exclaimed, pouncing to snatch the ball out of the air. tobio had no idea what happened next. or more like, he didn’t know how it happen. one moment you were going for the ball, the next you were falling. you were falling. onto his bed. onto him. panicked, he reached to catch you as you crashed against him. the ball smacked against the wall as tobio’s large hand had slapped it out of the way in his attempt to break your fall. which he had. with his body.
“oompf.”
it was quiet for a moment, except for the volleyball bouncing on the floor a couple of times before it continued it’s adventure, rolling until it came to a halt against the opposite wall.
“i’m sorry,” you said lifting yourself up on your elbows. “are you okay?” you didn’t move to sit up. you didn’t. maybe because tobio’s hands were splayed out over your spine. or maybe you just didn’t want to. you looked into his eyes, the air around you seemingly growing heavier by the minute.
“i’m okay,” he said. the silence stretched. he should probably say something. he should let go of you. he should ask you to get up. he should. he should. he should. but he didn’t. he didn’t, because he didn’t want to.
“are you going to kiss me?” you asked, the question hanging in the air, charged. he wanted to. his lungs felt completely void of air. he couldn’t. he shouldn’t. he wanted to. so badly.
“no.”
“i’m sorry.” you pull back when the rejection leaves his lips, but his hold around you tightens. he doesn’t want to hold you back. he really doesn’t. but he can’t let you go. not when– you look away and his chest aches again. more than it’s ever done before. “it’s okay. of course you don’t want to. i’m sorry!” for being so forward. for making it awkward. for falling on you, for assuming– tobio heard all the things you didn’t say in that one single apology.
“it’s not that i don’t want to–”
“it’s fine,” you blurted out, cutting him off. the muscle in his jaw ticks. he can feel it. he doesn’t mean it. but you’re misunderstanding him and he never hated his poor communication skills more than he did that very moment. “you don’t have to explain.” he brushes his knuckles against your jaw before his palm settled on your cheek, turning your head back to face him.
“i want to,” he said. “you have no idea how much i want to. how long i’ve– but i know that i won’t want to stop if i do.”
“okay,” you said. it was quiet for another moment as you looked at each other. “okay, well. that’s good. because maybe i don’t want you to stop.” tobio found his eyes growing wider at your admission. the first time kageyama tobio kiss you, it was actually more you the kissed him. as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, tobio found himself scared that this was but a dream. that one wrong movement would have you vaporizing and disappearing from. but the press of your lips were so soft. so tender. the hand left on your back fisted in your shirt. clinging on for dear life as his lips finally moved against yours. he’d passed away and gone to heaven. there was no other explanation for what was happening right now. it was sweet. it was magical. it was perfect. it was you. he pulled you closer and you obliged. it was– it–
“finally!” miwa’s cheerful voice echoed in tobio’s room, and startled the two of you pulled apart. shock painted in your features as well as his. but kageyama miwa looked nothing but happy to have caught the two of you kissing. the smile on her face said it all. and then– “took you long enough. anyway, finish up soon, okay? i brought dinner.” she turned and left.
the second time kageyama tobio kissed you, was only mere moments after the first. he was smiling. you were smiling. the heavy atmosphere had lifted but the magic was there. the second time tobio kissed you, it was quick and full of wonder. like the promise of many more to come. and while tobio knew he was going back to italy soon and the ache of leaving you behind was overwhelming, at least he knew that he could be looking forward to you visiting him when he inevitably started feeling lonely without having you close.
*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for reading ♡
#fanfic#kageyama tobio#best friends younger brother#best friends younger brother!tobio#kageyama tobio fluff#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama tobio x reader fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu fluff#DONT LOOK AT ME I KNOW I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING AT SCREENS RN BUT HELLO????#kags was knocking down the doors in my brain#held me at gunpoint until i wrote it#useradrienne#just bc#ily <3
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Twisted wonderland (WIP !!!)
Jade Leech x fem reader | Floyd Leech x fem reader
Can be read as any other gender if you'd like
Not a request but I just wrote this while on a road trip, aka right now. I wrote this in 30 minutes if you can't tell, obviously it's gonna be messy and not proofread
Cw : swearing/cursing, not proofread, Jade, Floyd. Ooc, rushed.
Wc: no fucking idea honestly I don't bother counting
You pant, absolutely exhausted. You had to chase after Grim to somehow force convince him to attend classes, but that little brat keeps running away and hiding. You find yourself all alone in some huge dark hallway, wandering around trying to find Grim.
"Grim ! Grim !! GRIM !!! WHERE ARE YOU ??" You shout, your voice echoing along the walls and high ceilings. "God knows what I'll do once i get my hands on you, you little sh*t.." you mutter angrily.
You're lost, but it's not like you really care at the moment. You're so busy cursing Grim in your head that you can't bring yourself to give a single f*ck.
That is, until you heard the dreadfully familiar voice of Floyd. (Insert oh shit, not good sfx)
"Heya, Lil shrimpy~ whatchu doing here, huh ? Did the little shrimpy get lost ?"
He says, with that menacing toothy grin of his. Sometimes you wonder how the hell his teeth are so white, what kinda toothpaste does he use ? Heck, do they even have colgate in twisted wonderland ? Maybe he uses its twisted wonderland equivalent. But damn, his teeth are whiter than my bedsheets and brighter than my earrings.
After a moment of internal brainstorming, you answer "Yup. Sucks to be me I guess. But that aside, why are you here ?"
His grin widens "that's for me to know and you to find out~" Oh how you want to wipe that stupid grin off his face because BOI you're not in the mood to joke around at the moment. 'Goddammit Grim, you will be the death of me one day..'
"Well, do you happen to know where Grim went ? That little sh- I mean, rascal, decided to play 'the dad who went to get milk' role and disappeared." Holy fucking shit, why is that burj khalifa eel leech whatever the fuck he is guy giggling like a fucking schoolgirl ? (Not that he's far from that actually) .
Giggle not as in the usual giggle he does but the kind of giggle a kid does when he's hiding something. Hmm. That's suspicious, that's weird..*insert sfx*
Well whatever, it doesn't matter what the hell he finds so funny because before you know it, you are gone.
Kaboom.
Abracadabra.
Gone. Gone and left no crumbs
Whoosh.
Because fuck no you ain't getting involved with Floyd or the octavinelle trio ever again. Even if fucking Leona held you at gunpoint and threatened you, you would still refuse to get involved with that slimy motherfucker.
'Yeah no thanks, but when I said I want my back broken I didn't mean it literally.'
*Insert sfx* AwOoP ! JuMpSCarE~
It seems luck wasn't by your side today, as you ran straight into a solid mass.
You groan "Oh fuck me.." you whine. Jade chuckles. Just as you had expected, he's grinning ominously at you while holding Grim in his right hand.
Well fuck, you should've known better. At this point these two leeches are your sleep paralysis demons.
(Would you believe me if I said I actually had Floyd as my sleep paralysis demon once ? It was fucking horrifying.)
"Oya oya, look who we have here, Floyd~ What a coincidence.."
He says, eyes glowing ominously while both of their grins stretch wider than your legs do whenever someone mentions geto or gojo. /j /not j
"Indeed a very unfortunate pleasant coincidence. Come to think of it, why weren't you with Floyd earlier ?"
He quirks an eyebrow "Oh, but i was. You just didn't see me. I was behind you the entire time, prefect."
"That isn't very...reassuring"
You trail off. "Well doesn't matter, can you just give me that thing ?"
You point at Grim, purposely calling him a thing to piss him off.
Grim begs to differ though, "THING ??? IM NOT A THING, IM THE GREAT SORCERER GRIM !!!!-" although that doesn't last long, he is quickly shut up by Jade's stare.
You grin, cockily. Haha take that you little gremlin ! That's what you get !!
But your thoughts are cut off just as quickly by Floyd, "Ehhh ? Shrimpy's mouth is open ?"
"Huh ? What does that have to do with this ?" You say, confused. Meanwhile Floyd quickly shoots Jade a knowing glance, which unnerves you.
"Nothing to worry your little head about, shrimpy~" "indeed, my brother is right, do not concern yourself with such matters."
Much to your shock, Jade wordlessly hands you Grim. Your mouth drops open
"Holy shit, Are you guys okay ? You behave as if you just ate Lilia's food... either that, or the sun will rise at the west tomorrow !"
The two simply smile and walk away.
Well, that was confusing..
#the pookiest writes#yourfavepookiebear#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#floyd leech#jade leech#hella bad#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#fem reader#can also be read as any other gender if you want#the brainrot is real#cat in my lap#so i can concentrate better#everything is fine when i have a cat near me#twst fic#leech twins#honestly not sure if i should post this#accidental cliffhanger#cliffhanger#disney twst#twst x reader
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29. “Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!”
ohohohohehehehe I wonder if Kieran became a yandere, would him being pushed to the edge mean he'd want some 'control' the same way he did when he tortured people? Or if his s/o found out abt what he'd done, perhaps he wouldn't want them to see him in such a way when he's in denial about partially enjoying torture!!!
Hello! I'm sorry for the long wait. I really enjoyed writing for this prompt, but I feel like I still could've done better...! Furthermore, this is unedited, so there may be grammatical mistakes. I hope that you'll enjoy this fic nonetheless, anon.
Character(s): Kieran
Scenario: Prompt request
Content Warnings: Yandere, mentions of violence
You knew Kieran since you were young.
A small frame against your taller one, she was a notable presence in your life ever since the news of your engagement arrived. She was quiet, obedient, and pretty; everything a nobleman could ask for, and yet you weren't really sure you liked her. She'd laugh when it was appropriate to do so and always gauged your reaction anytime she spoke. She'd link her arms with yours, walk your pace and listen to you talk about topics you were certain she wasn't interested in.
Despite being aware of her existence, you didn't know much about her as a person. Her mother always praised her, so your parents did as well, which caused you to hold her in high regard too. It was a chain reaction, but although everyone spoke nicely of the young lady, nobody commented on her peculiarity. She held close to no personality and always looked in her mother's direction for guidance anytime you asked her a personal question. You were rather a mean teenager, and so you'd do these things often just to get a reaction out of her.
Eventually, small bits of someone who was hidden behind the mask of a demure lady started peeping in. At first, she'd drop subtler signs she liked something, even admitting she was fond of it. Later on, she got courageous enough to talk about things that piqued her interest, so long as you were a distance away from her mother.
You were starting to like her, you thought. She was innocent, sure, but her curiosity warmed your heart. You wanted to help her flourish and improve, preferably by your side.
Her mother had no qualms against you wanting to spend more time at their estate. She seemed happy, satisfied. Her eyes scanned her daughter as if she were an art critic appraising their favourite art piece, more so focused on the beauty than what lied underneath.
Your stay at the estate was fine. You talked to Kieran, had dinner with her and her mother, studied, slept. It was fine, it truly was—save for the strange sounds you'd hear from time to time. You seemed to be the only one to hear them, as both Kieran and her mother denied hearing anything. Asking the servants wasn't an option, as the lady of the estate had banned you from speaking to them.
Still, they persisted, and so did your growing curiosity and dread.
—
After your stay was over, you and Kieran hadn't seen one another for a long time.
You'd send each other letters. Your family was overjoyed, talking about you two as lovebirds, and you hated that you couldn't really deny it. You liked her, maybe even loved her, and writing letters was less of a chore and more an enjoyable pastime. You'd eagerly await her letters, smiling anytime you held one in your hand. While they still stayed respectful, you were less formal with your writing style and wrote even about mundane things. Kieran seemed to enjoy that, and both of you would send a reply to a letter that'd just arrive earlier on that day.
But, her replies started getting messier. You didn't assume much of it until each letter looked more frantic than the last. It was like talking to a person who was being kept at gunpoint, unsure and desperate. Her handwriting was clawed and not at all elegant as before, but she'd still persist in stating that she was in good health. She'd ask more and more questions about you, but be vague about her own life.
A part of you thought she was getting sick of you, no longer finding you novel, but her desperation to know about you was strange. It seemed as if she was clinging onto you as if you were her anchor or her only pathway to the outside world. She started asking about recent events or the weather, as if she wasn't able to check herself.
You started to understand the situation more when you met her again. Your 'fiancé', but definitely not Kieran.
—
She looked similar, but she was fundamentally different.
She was stiff and awkward, as if she wasn't used to talking to you. Her appearance changed, her eyelashes were shorter than before, her beauty marks misplaced, her lips thinner. Only someone who hasn't met Kieran before would think that this was Lady Castemont's daughter.
You missed your Kieran. You condemned her mother.
—
Lady Castemont's mouth was shut tight at first, until you offered her a couple of your maids.
You weren't stupid, you knew the rumours surrounding her. A wolf in sheep's clothing that barely kept things hidden, a sadist who liked torturing others, including her daughter. Giving your maids to her finalised their fate, but your selfishness won over your conscience.
She told you you'd be disappointed if you saw Kieran now, but you begged to differ. She told you you'd come to hate Kieran, but you didn't listen to her. She told you you'd been lied to, but your heart remained unflinching.
In the end, she was correct.
—
Kieran was a man. The one who you loved was a man.
Her—his—build was more defined and muscular than before, his shoulders more broad and his Adam's apple protruding. This was undeniably a man's body, always has been a man's body, and yet you didn't notice after all this time. His long hair was gone, cut down to a boy-ish cut. His hands were bonier and longer, his nails bitten down to the point of blood. His chest was as flat as his stomach, and his reproductive organ was akin to your own.
"Did you think I wouldn't have found out?"
You asked him, but it was a rhetorical question. "If we actually got married, would I have the pleasure of finding out about it then?" You spat out.
"I didn't mean to deceive you—I'm so sorry, I—she made me—" His voice hitched in the middle of his sentence. He looked absolutely pitiful and broken, and despite your disgust, you felt nauseous at the fact you were making him feel this way. "I didn't want to lie to you, I promise, I-I, promise."
"I defied my family for you, I offered that wretched devil my servants for her to toy with—for you." You wanted to scream, to rant, to vent. You weren't even angry at him, but his godforsaken mother. She must've been laughing the entire fucking time you were seen rose-eyed around her son. She made you care for him, and then replaced him the second it started to get harder to cover his secret up. Worst thing is, your affection was not even gone. His body repulsed you, but you desired to touch it nonetheless. It was filthy, disgusting of you to think this way, and yet—
"I still want you." You let out a despairing, shrill laugh. "I still want you! Haha!"
He looked at you so unsurely yet so hopefully that you wanted to kick him. You were going through all of this anguish because of him, and yet a part of you thought it all to be worth it. "You… You're also a victim, aren't you? The sounds I heard at your estate were your screams, weren't they?"
Kieran's brow twitched, but he eagerly nodded. He was on his knees, covering his body with only his hands, and you decided that it was enough. You unclipped your cloak and put it around his shoulders. And, although it tasted like venom on your tongue, you whispered an apology to him.
—
You took him in as your servant, no matter how humiliating it must've been for a man of his station.
He was surprisingly good at his job, especially when it came to things that required a delicate touch, and you were returning to what you would've called peaceful days. Your family was still at odds with you for sacrificing your family's maids to that devil, but things were calming down. Not one person but you knew that the true Kieran was right under their nose.
You barely interacted with him during his work, but the man would slip into your chambers after everyone had gone to sleep. It felt like meeting your childhood crush again with how unsure he was acting at first. He grew more bold, just like back then, but this time his personality acquired a cocky and self-assured edge. You'd call him annoying, but if you did, you were sure he'd go back to being a lifeless doll.
He'd complain about the other servants and other mundane stuff, mentioning everything but anything relating to his mother or home. It was a taboo topic, best to not revisit again, and you both understood that. Still, his eyes would sometimes look into yours and search for something there, often letting out a soft sigh after he'd found it.
—
Neither of you mentioned your indirect confession again, but Kieran was definitely touchy.
He'd hold your hand 'just because' and look at you shyly through his eyelashes or be all over your personal space like he couldn't get enough. You felt conflicted, finding it both pleasant and uncomfortable, but if the man noticed the latter, he didn't show it.
You wanted to see him as a friend rather than… whatever you saw him as before. You were still the family's future heir, and letting previous attachments hinder you would do you no good. The engagement between you and 'Kieran' was still considered as good as done, but the actual Kieran's face would morph into anger anytime he'd hear any mention of it.
During those days, he'd become a lot more possessive and touchy. He'd be snappy at the other servants during the day, and then look as if he was barely containing himself around you at night. There was some sort of tension when you were alone, and you weren't so ignorant as to not notice what kind it was.
The first time you did it was the day your family was discussing your trip to the Castemont's estate in the future week. You drank, and so did Kieran, who was hilariously a much weaker drinker than you. You laughed and leaned closer to him, enough to feel his breath, and before you realised what you were doing, you were licking his lower lip and sliding your tongue into his mouth.
Kieran reciprocated, wildly claiming your body with his hands. He held onto your shirt so tightly it surely wrinkled, pulled at your neck to kiss him deeper so roughly that you got reminded he actually had some strength, and moaned your name like a mantra once you pushed him onto your bed.
When you awoke the next morning, you strangely didn't regret any of it.
—
"And so, they expect me to stay at their estate for a couple of weeks. Said that I needed an 'appropriate' amount of time to bond with my fiancé." You sighed. "They make me sick."
Kieran stayed silent as you were getting ready for the day, but you could feel his disgruntled glare on you. Without turning around, you huffed in amusement. "Don't look at me like that, I've got no say in this."
"I know, I know, ugh. Are you sure I can't come with you?" As if realising what he just said, Kieran bristled.
"To your former home? Would you really like that?" You approached him and kissed his forehead, "I frankly doubt it."
Kieran's cheeks reddened and he sputtered a few incoherent words before just giving you a half-hearted accusatory look. You gave him a cheeky grin, but then schooled your expression into a calmer one. "Furthermore, I'd hate to see you go back to that place… Especially with what your mother did to you."
There were no visible scars on his body, but you were sure it was simply because his mother had been meticulously prepared to cause as much pain as possible without any lasting evidence. You never asked Kieran about the details and you didn't even want to. Those moans of pain you heard still haunted your memory.
Clearly, they did Kieran's as well, as he immediately stiffened. "Ah, y-yeah. I don't have the best memories there—" he cringed, "—but! The hell am I supposed to do here for weeks without you? Your annoying sister keeps giving me dirty looks, as if I'm somehow beneath her."
"Well, technically, you are." You reminded him with a laugh. "Plus, for a servant, you don't always act how a servant should. Don't think I haven't heard of how you served her lukewarm tea and then blamed it on her for losing track of her time until it was no longer delicious." Of course, he acted like a gentleman around you and your parents, as if he enjoyed serving you in any way he could. Still, your sister would talk your ear off about how much he irked her. It was funny.
"I know nothing about it," he innocently batted his eyelashes at you, linking his hands together and hugging them against his cheek. "She should show more restraint as a future lady and her embroidery is simply horrendous. And, her room—what is up with those design choices? Does she intend to torture my eyes? An eye for detail is not an ability she possesses."
"I don't think her room looks that bad…"
"Oh, my dearest lord, just because she's your kin, you need not lie." Kieran raised his brows at you, confident in being right. You raised your hands in defeat.
Still, you were avoiding the main topic at hand, and both of you were aware of it. With how Kieran would occasionally throw you unsure looks and pick at his clothes, you knew he was anxious. "Don't worry, nothing bad will happen. It's just a couple of weeks and then I'm back." You tried to reassure him, but you didn't think it worked.
"But she's there." His voice sounded so cold it froze you in place. "She's there, and she'll try to win you over. She's going to be near you and touch you. She's going to have long hair and pretty dresses and you'll have dinner with her. She's going to link her arms with yours and make you go on walks around the estate gardens. She's—"
"She's not you."
You felt disturbed by his increasingly venomous tone, but you knew leaving now would only make him spiral more. In situations like these, you were a bit scared of Kieran, with him acting as if he were a step away from going off at the deep end.
"She's not the one I like."
He stopped scratching the skin on his wrist and looked up at you. He blinked away any remains of whatever it was and the fog in his eyes turned into clarity. "You like me," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe those words, "ah, well, it was obvious because of, you know, but—" Kieran stumbled over his words before averting his face away from you, "... I like you too."
You grinned and ruffled his hair, ignoring the weird pit in your stomach telling you there was something wrong.
—
'Kieran' wasn't a bad girl.
She resembled the actual Kieran and although there were certain differences, she still made for a fine copy now that she had grown more. She was demure, somewhat bashful, but also noticeably nervous around him. As if she was feeling guilt for something she had no real control over.
She reminded you of your first—and, well, current—love with her behaviour. Both seemed lifeless yet had a personality of their own eager to rebel whatever evil the lady of the estate was putting them through. You wanted to ask her for her actual name, but you thought better of it. You had an inkling she'd feel like she failed somehow, as if she wasn't the perfect replacement, even though it wouldn't be the case.
In a way, you wanted to protect her. She had been dealt a bad hand in life, having been unfortunate enough to be chosen by the devil herself. You couldn't do much, but you at least wanted for her to feel at ease around you.
It was strange, really. You felt like Kieran made you a better person in the long run. You never truly cared for who one might consider weak before, thinking them to be a hindrance, and yet now you went out of your way to give them your sympathies. Eager to ease them off of their pain, you wanted to be their confidant and a friend.
And, maybe, you had the intended effect on 'Kieran'. She smiled more often around you, and there was some healthy red to her cheeks rather than her deathly pale disposition. When you brought up the topic of books, she even confessed to having read a couple of them in secret, to which you laughed.
You started to regret not having brought Kieran with you, despite it being a selfish thought. His vile hatred towards this girl was unwarranted, and a part of you wished he'd come to eventually like her. Just like him, she did nothing wrong.
Still, as you were around 'Kieran', you started to miss certain parts of the relationship you had with the original before. Sweet like honey on good days, intense like a storm on bad ones; that's how you'd describe the current Kieran. He was… Intense to say the least. You liked him, you were sure—you had to like him. The strong sense of responsibility you held over his emotions and safety had to be love. Feeling guilt after feeling a hint of relief and freedom due to being away from him had to be love.
Because love was the only compensation you could offer to a victim.
—
You expected Kieran to be happy at your return.
When he saw you, he dropped everything he was carrying and ran towards you despite how suspicious his behaviour to others was. He seemed desperate to touch you, if only to confirm that you were truly back. It was as heartwarming as it was uncomfortable.
The other servants were glad to see you back, greeting you with polite smiles and sometimes even waves. Greedy as ever, your sister immediately started pestering you about the whereabouts of her gifts. You had learned the hard way that spending money on at least a carriage worth of gifts was the only way to appease her anger.
You had a gift for Kieran as well, a more personal one. When you whispered that into his ear when no one was watching, his posture stiffened and you could quickly sense his reddening face with growing amusement. For the duration of the day, Kieran seemed almost star-struck to have you back in the estate again, hating anytime his duties called for his presence elsewhere. His longing looks that he'd turn to mean-spirited glares at anyone who'd dare point them out were truly something.
You had a feeling both of you were looking forward to the evening.
—
Kieran went to your personal chambers earlier than you'd like, especially because not all servants were free from roaming the halls. Still, with a bit of half-hearted admonishment, you let him off the hook.
"Just be more careful next time, alright? I don't want to doubt you, but considering how… Distracted you were today, I'm a bit wary about you simply making a beeline towards my room without checking your surroundings first." Although you wanted to seem nonchalant, a bit of worry did seep into your voice, which made Kieran immediately clear his throat.
"There's nothing for you to worry about, geez." Kieran mumbled, playing with his cravat. "I put more care into coming here undetected than into my morning routine—which you're surely aware I take very seriously—and so doubting me on this is more of an insult than anything." He stretched his hand in a circle motion, giving his voice an authoritarian pitch. Despite being a servant, he confidently sat himself across you as if it were only natural. Well, you supposed it was.
That arrogance of his would one day be his downfall, you thought. Despite your slight annoyance at his antics, you calmed down by reminding yourself his eagerness today was only due to his relief at you coming back home. It felt strangely funny, in a way. Feeling like a husband under the suspicion of cheating despite only having visited a friend. You stifled a giggle.
You leaned your face closer to Kieran's and kissed his forehead. "Yes, yes, do forgive me for my earlier comment." You couldn't help but enjoy the shit-eating grin that appeared on Kieran's face alongside a blush. It made you grin back at him. "Well, how have you been? Surely my absence hasn't robbed you of all opportunities to have fun?"
Kieran moved his head to rest his forehead against yours and groaned. "It has. I've been extremely bored; it's not like my job is fun." Bored, and extremely grumpy, from what you've heard. He'd snap at his fellow servants for the slightest of mistakes and act like a cruel godmother to those submissive enough to bully.
Not wanting to bring up his mean streak, you instead huffed in amusement and closed your eyes in content. You stayed like that for a while, until you felt a hand tilting your head up and simultaneously felt another hand pulling you even closer. Despite how the table awkwardly dug into you, you let Kieran lap his tongue at your lips before sliding it inside into your mouth. Possessive would be the best way to describe the kiss; it was swallowing and overwhelming. Kieran would only leave you short breaks when he'd need to catch his breath.
Suddenly, you felt Kieran push you back against your arm chair. You were slightly surprised by his action, but understood everything once he circled around the table and seated himself on top of your lap. You guessed he was far too frustrated to deal with another obstacle in your way. "You're going at things a bit too fast today, aren't you?" You teased him as your arms found their way around his waist.
His response was a lick at your now-exposed neck and a grumble that you made out to be a 'shut up'. You leaned back against your armchair and fully discarded yourself of your cravat. You supposed you could humour him for a while, at least until he'd gotten adequately satisfied. Back home from a long trip, you couldn't exactly say lust alone would be able to provoke you into having a night of passion. A good night's sleep was more tempting.
Kieran's hand travelled down your body, squeezing your chest and waist as he went. Meanwhile, his licks started to alternate between soft kisses and harsh bites, both earning you a pleasant sensation. Still, when his hand reached your pants, you knew this was getting a bit too out of hand.
"The… Mm, the gift."
It was the first excuse that came to your mind. You had to repeat yourself after Kieran promptly ignored you the first time, the cheeky brat. Hopefully the gift would distract him enough that he'd leave you alone for tonight and you could make it up to him tomorrow, or the day after that. It's not easy to predict when your sister would decide to hog you for the day, after all.
"It really can't wait?" Kieran's plea came out more as a whine than anything, but you didn't relent.
"I was really looking forward to giving it to you. It's a rather personal gift."
Kieran looked like the best gift you could give him now would be to shut up and continue letting him do as he pleased, but he eventually bit the inside of his cheek and got off of your lap. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as he waited for you to come pick it up from your nightstand.
"Here," you showed him a small box, "open it."
Kieran rolled his eyes but took the gift into his hands. He raised his brows. "That's your crest."
What he was holding was a nicely embroidered crest on top of soft fabric. There were some loose threads here and there, but they were few in number. It was still quite visible that whoever made this poured their heart into it. And, looking at Kieran's confused but appreciative gaze, he must've felt it too.
"You had to discard your own crest by coming here, so I wanted to give you mine." You explained. "While I can't publicly declare you as a part of my family, I, ah, still wanted you to know you're as important to me as they are."
Kieran looked down at the handcrafted gift, and then back at you. Despite hating it if anyone pointed it out, he was a surprisingly sentimental boy. He seemed torn between saying thank-you and lashing out at you for not getting him more expensive gifts, but something tugged at his brain. "Still, who did you commission to make this? It couldn't be you who made this—obviously—but a skilled embroiderer wouldn't have made mistakes in the stitches like this."
"Oh, it was 'Kieran'."
Kieran immediately stiffened, but you tried to calm the situation. "She personally made this for you—she's not a bad girl, you know." You bit your lip for a second before continuing. "Your mother destroyed both your and her life; she is the one to blame for everything. And, 'Kieran' warmed up to me, so surely she'd—"
"Warmed up to you? Oh, how fucking sweet!" Kieran threw the small box on the ground and kicked it under your bed. "As if I wouldn't recognize that whore's antics. Do you think she made this for me out of goodwill?" He dug his nails into his forearm to the point it looked painful, then, he let out a sharp laugh. "This is simply a reminder of everything she stole for me. But, of course, that's not enough for her, is it? Ha!"
You were too shocked to say anything, and Kieran gave you a twisted smile. "For all of your reassurances, she's close to replacing me, isn't she? Tell me, did she act like a shy little princess? Innocent and sweet and harmless? While I was stuck here, she was living through everything that was supposed to be mine!" He laughed and pulled himself closer to you. "Isn't it fucking hilarious? My own mother disowned me, and now the one I was promised since I was a child will also be taken by that wretch."
You were starting to get angered by his outburst. Despite your bafflement, you narrowed your eyes. "Kieran, get yourself together."
Kieran didn't seem to be able to hear you. "Oh, but she didn't show you what she's truly like, did she?" He cackled, a hoarse sound escaping his throat. "She'd never, haha… She'd act the role of an innocent victim until you'd be ensnared by her. How shrewd! She deserves praise, doesn't she?!"
"Kieran!"
That startled him enough to shut his mouth with a click. Still, his crazed glare didn't leave you and locked you in place. The look in his eyes told you that he was fully convinced of something that is not even true, and there was nothing you could say to him to change his mind. It's always like this; everything is going well, but then he snaps. Even so, you've never seen him get as bad as now. You bit your lip in unease.
"I… think we should get some good night's rest."
Kieran clenched and unclenched his hand repetitively, being either a sign of aggression or pacification. "So we could brush everything under the rug as always, huh. I won't allow that today." Then, he suddenly smiled. "Hey, do you know why she's become so adequate with a needle?"
Puzzled by the sudden change of topic, you weren't sure whether Kieran was messing with you or not. Even though you didn't give him a reply, he didn't seem to mind. "I believe she must've went through the same training as me. My dearest mother always loved to use needles to sew up any larger injury she inflicted on a maid that day. Said something about how it was both painful and effective. Acted as a constant reminder not to disobey again, too."
You didn't like what he was getting at.
"See, a needle is both small and sharp. You need a precise aim to use it well, especially when your target keeps moving. They struggled so much I often pierced their skin into a much, much more painful area. My mother was always overjoyed when that happened." Kieran covered his mouth with his hand, thinking that he was nauseous, you didn't expect a small smile to appear on his face once he pulled his hand away. "I can't help but wonder whether she's refined her methods since then. Maybe her new daughter gets to enjoy even louder screams than me."
Your face paled as you connected the dots. There was something indescribably evil with the way he spoke, and you could almost sense him thinking back on those memories almost fondly. It almost looked like he broke free of all the restraints of morality and cared not for the morbid words he was spouting. He was less of a victim than you thought him to be, and thanks to the bug he planted in your head, you couldn't help but wonder whether 'Kieran' was the same.
The difference between the Kieran you knew and the Kieran you saw in front of you now was as stark as the contrast between night and day. He was gloating about it, but a hint of pain could also be detected. As if he found himself vile.
"What's gotten you so nervous?" He chuckled, finding everything hilarious. "What's up with that look you're giving me? Are you pitying me? Are you disgusted with me?" Then, his volume increased. "Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!"
It was a half-yell and half-cry. Kieran was breaking down in front of you and you didn't know whether you wanted to help him or get him out of your room. He was lashing out like a madman and anything you'd say would make him spiral even more, so you stayed silent. Everything you were feeling turned into a cesspool of unanswered questions and crippling worries piled on top of one another. You couldn't move, nor could you will yourself to do anything but stare at him. The situation you were in felt unreal and your mind itched to flee from this mess and replace your confusing emotions with stress-caused apathy. During the entirety of the time you knew Kieran, he had been causing pain to others on his mother's command. He hurt others. He tortured others. The person you were in love with tortured others.
You opened your mouth to speak, but your tongue felt heavy and your throat lodged up with black ooze keeping any words at bay. When Kieran's madness started to wash away in waves and the realisation of what he had done crept up on him, the silence between you two became painful. He stumbled over his words and let out short, desperate laughs that sounded like nothing if not deranged to you.
"You didn't want to do any of those things, did you? You felt repulsed by them."
Your hoarse voice uttered a sentence you didn't even fully comprehend until it echoed in the room. You were tired. You wanted to sleep and forget this ever happened. You wanted a reason to excuse Kieran for everything he had done.
Kieran, in his eventual clarity, realised that too. He looked up at you and a part of you felt like he was betrayed by you by something. As if you weren't looking at him, but someone beyond him. Your perfect image of the one who was promised to you.
When he nodded, you pulled him into a hug and shushed him even though he wasn't crying. His body was limp against yours and you felt like he'd fall apart without you. You sacrificed so much for this man. He was a victim, he had to be.
And you'd repeat that to yourself until you'd finally believe it.
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I like the way some fanfic authors (myself included) describe how their ideas hold them hostage:
"This fic wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it"
"This idea hijacked my brain"
"My muse held me at gunpoint until I finished this"
"This plot bunny handed me a mask and an envelope, pointed me at a bank, and told me to demand $78,000 in small bills"
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In terms of Springers characters in the Wreckers Saga, do you feel his emotional inscrutability is a deliberate characterization or Roche’s hard time writing the character? Was watching his TFCon panel with Burcham and he mentioned he had a difficult time relating to Springers duty-bound morality and I wonder that translates to a sort of bereft characterization…
Hmmm.
There's two parts to my answer here. I will duly cut this, as it is long.
Part the first: I think this question assumes a kind of binary that doesn't have to exist. One thing I think can sometimes be a bit of a problem in discussions of writers' intent when looking at a work is that one (and only one) of two things are assumed to always be true:
A writer did [thing] on purpose, and that makes it a deliberate part of the text
A writer did [thing] without meaning to, completely unknowingly, and that makes it an unintended reading of the text
When in fact, something that can happen as you write, and especially writing serialized fiction, or fiction taking place in someone else's sandbox, is that you write something without necessarily intending it but also not while being like... blissfully unaware of it, you know?
I've seen people say, for example, that a lot of the stuff in Sins happened 'accidentally', citing Roche saying most of what wound up in it wasn't his original plan and developed as he wrote. But 'this changed from my original plan in ways I didn't really notice until I had done it, at which point I was like huh, that's sure what I wrote!' is not... the same as 'wow, I had no idea this was even here til someone read it and pointed it out back at me!' Sometimes you write something without thinking and when you go back to edit you think. Huh. I didn't realise I had done such-and-such. Maybe it's a parallel you didn't do 'on purpose', but it made its way in there because the two things in question felt right, and they felt right because there are thematic links there. Maybe it's a theme that makes sense because it works so naturally for the characters you are writing that simply writing them interacting brought it to the forefront. You know?
Sometimes I think it can be easy to accidentally over-correlate 'pre-mediated' and 'purposeful', basically. They overlap a lot, but do not correlate 1:1. You know how actors in theatre talk about how if they have stage fright, they go OK, let's use it. That kind of principle permeates a lot of writing, in my experience. You can't quite get a grip on something, no matter how hard you try? Use it. Make it a feature.
Part the second: I'm not sure if this would be an answer that I'm super interested in knowing, tbh! There are times that knowledge of an authors' intentions can be illuminating, or interesting, or provide context for a work that helps with certain kinds of analysis. In this case, though, I don't know if I am all that interested in the assumption the question starts with, if you see what I mean. Maybe it was on purpose; maybe it was accidental; maybe it started off accidental and Roche went 'let's use it' and leant into it. (If you held me at gunpoint and made me guess, the trajectory from Last Stand to Wrequiem would make me think the latter is a reasonable guess to make.) But what would knowing that tell us about the work? I guess it might give some context as to how the author felt when writing about the archetypal 'hero' character. Like oh, well, in a series as morally grey as Wreckers, is the most obviously, stereotypically 'good' character difficult to parse on purpose, or just because the author found him to be a little out of sync with everyone else? But beyond that I think it doesn't do very much as questions go, so I am not inclined to dwell too much on it. (That's just me- someone with a different perspective or approach to this stuff might have a very different feeling about this!)
This is the sort of question I might be interested in asking Roche from a craftsmanship point of view- you know, in the sense of 'how did you approach this as a writer, are you happy with the result'. But as a reader of the comic? I think the question I'm more interested in is, whether deliberate or not, how does the fact that Springer comes across to so many readers as comparatively inscrutable function in a comic like Wreckers to further its core themes and tone? What does that character being the least 'relatable' one do for something like Wreckers as a work?
...I appreciate this is on its face a maaaassively overinvolved response to a question about a uhhhh. Transformers comic. LMAO. But this is more just the baseline of how I approach any kind of media, silly or serious, big deal or not, if I want to analyse it on any level, so consider it less an answer to this specific question and more a general explanation of how I approach fiction on the whole.
tl;dr: I don't know, anon! He sure is inscrutable, though. I sympathise with Roche. I find characters like Springer very difficult to write, too. It's a big reason I haven't yet written him.
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what's your favorite 2521 episode and why? 🤍🤍
hii! thanks for the ask!!
i think my favourite episode is ep.9, because it has a very satisfying narrative arc in terms of heedo and yijin defining their relationship, and also probably because it was one of the happiest episodes to watch for me. i love how heedo and yijin communicate their feelings throughout, the build-up of tension for the interview plot, and the release of that tension when the damage done doesn't turn out to be as important as the relationship the characters are building together.
it lays such a strong foundation for their relationship that by the end of that episode, i was convinced that nothing could come between them, where before i had shipped them but kept in mind we might witness a deterioration of their romance, a love triangle, or any other kind of prolonged conflict that makes them an "almost" kind of romance.
but when i watched that ending scene, i wrote, "whatever happened to these people, they never hurt each other." and that remains true for me -- the person who hurt them is the writer.
up until the middle of the series, i was waiting to be convinced that they weren't meant to last, but instead all the evidence kept piling up in favour of their bond, until nothing could convince me to the contrary. i ask myself every day, why would you tell such a story? what good does it do? what does it achieve? and i have no answer, because for me, the story only makes sense if they're at the end of each other's misery. everything else falls flat and unconvincing.
i'm also partial to the ending plot of ep.6, where yijin picks up heedo from the train station and drives her to the match. i think the feeling of happiness is at the root of that, too -- i binged the first six episodes, and when i do that, i tend to unconsciously view whatever part of the show was released before i started watching as a complete mini-arc, as a world on its own. it's a completely arbitrary way to view story and has nothing to do with structure, just with circumstance. i started watching after seeing gifs of yijin giving heedo the 15th volume of full house, and i remember thinking, "ah, that's romance. he bought her the book she loves. that's peak romance." then i saw gifs of him holding hands with her on the pier in the snow, and the contrast of the cold night and the warmth of their hands and gazes practically held me at gunpoint. "you will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast", writes catherynne m. valente.
so when i got the end of episode six, i felt this sense of completion and triumph and elation. i had watched a meeting, a parting, and a reunion, and as the soundtrack played over the red car speeding through the empty street with just the two of them, i think what i felt most was confidence. i knew that they would lead me to a good place. and they did, but the story didn't.
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To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic
@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee
(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)
If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets
I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry
So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)
Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.
They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)
Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)
Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed
Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.
Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened
He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.
He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)
The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan
Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)
After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)
Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.
He leaves.
He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.
But there was someone who might.
He goes to Arkham.
Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)
He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)
She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)
He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.
She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)
He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.
But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.
She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)
He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.
Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.
Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.
A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.
Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)
He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?
He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)
She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”
She had no idea.
He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.
“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.
She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)
The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)
He slept better than he had in days.
The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.
Then he headed off.
Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.
It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)
His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.
At least it was Spring.
Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.
By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.
(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)
Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.
He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.
It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.
He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.
When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.
He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.
During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.
He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.
That was until a massive explosion hit.
“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.
He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)
He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)
He flew down, exploring.
He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.
She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.
She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.
He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.
Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.
It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.
Oh this was rich.
He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)
He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.
He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.
Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.
When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)
The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.
After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.
Could it really bee? (not a typo)
After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.
The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.
Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.
“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.
“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.
Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.
“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.
“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)
He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.
Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.
“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?
“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.
“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.
How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?
“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.
“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.
Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)
Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”
He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”
Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)
He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)
“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”
He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”
She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”
He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)
Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.
“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”
Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.
“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.
They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)
Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.
“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”
Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”
Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”
“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”
He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”
She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.
Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)
She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.
She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.
She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.
The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.
He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.
She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.
Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.
“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)
She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”
Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)
He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”
Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)
“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.
When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.
Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.
After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.
He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.
His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.
He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.
He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.
He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.
He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”
She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”
“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.
When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.
He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)
She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”
They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.
The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”
Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”
Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”
Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”
“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.
He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?
He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.
When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.
Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.
And she could help him fake an accent.
Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.
She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.
They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.
It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.
They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)
He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.
Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.
He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.
He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.
Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)
Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.
They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.
“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”
But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.
He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.
He turned back, this ought to be good.
And it was.
Alya absolutely lost it.
She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)
When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”
Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.
Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.
Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.
In fact, it was great.
He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)
And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)
Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.
And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.
He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.
But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.
So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.
“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”
Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”
Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”
She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”
He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.
“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.
“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.
They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did. And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.
The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.
She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.
It was better than he ever could've imagined.
While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)
“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.
She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”
He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”
She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”
He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.
She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.
(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)
The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)
He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”
“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.
She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”
He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.
He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.
So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.
She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.
“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.
He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”
So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.
In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-
The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.
She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”
And wait they did.
They waited two weeks.
And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.
Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.
He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.
"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.
There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"
Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.
He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.
"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.
"When did Batman find you?"
"25th May 2017,"
"Who's your favourite author?"
"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.
Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?
He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"
His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.
"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.
He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)
Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-
"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.
She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.
After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.
They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)
Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.
“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.
He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”
“Then let’s go get our team, love,”
(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)
Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.
Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”
Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.
Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.
They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.
They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.
Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.
The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.
The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”
Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.
Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.
Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.
“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.
He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.
“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.
“We have a time traveller,” he replied.
“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”
“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.
“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”
“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.
They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.
Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.
Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.
Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.
His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.
“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.
“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.
It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.
It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.
After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.
“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”
Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.
It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.
They had a lot of catching up to do.
But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.
Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.
And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.
I hope you guys enjoyed!
This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans
#maribat#jason todd#marinette dupain cheng#jasonette#bee movie au#aka the deep dark hole within the deep dark hole#I've been working on this for a month#probably more#my brain held me captive with this au it held me at gunpoint and stalked me and wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it#me: casually attempting to write anything else#my brain: *slaps me with ideas for this* NO#and the worst part is there's more that's not written just bull my brain came up with#and i can't believe I put angsty life philosophy writing in a CRACK AU#THIS IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF A CRACK AU#WHY#I AM SO INVESTED AND I'M MAD ABOUT IT#i enjoyed writing this and that fact alone infuriates me#blame moonie for this#and u know what blame bugabunny too#(fuck i hope i got their name right)#if it hadn't been for the two of them discussing this again i would've forgotten all about it and i woulda been allowed to write#my kaldur x marinette fic in peace. or my lila time loop fic. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE#anyway i tried to make his outfit red hood esque but like only the parts i liked about it#aka the leather jacket and the combat boots#I don't know how i feel about the fact that i wrote this but what's done is done#*sigh*#jason x marinette#why me#nightwing fluff#but also angst
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Well the manager brought weapons.... What if there was a long gun amongst them so he lifts the blanket with the gunpoint and sees Toji balls deep inside of you and dripping. So he traces Toji's balls with it and teases your stretched hole ☺🦋💫🌟✨🤞
(nsfw below the cut, MINORS DNI)
tw; fem! reader / afab! reader, fear play, gun play, mentions of weapons, voyeurism, cnc or nc (reader accepts consent after it happened), scratching, creampie
notes; oh my fuck— the FEAR in your eyes... aurelius u onto smth bad.. BAD .>:(( i wrote this in one go, and no i have not proofread, all of this just slip out from my brain to the fingers. and i hope you enjoy this sauce, because i- i’m just speechless while writing this, just horny HAHAHHA
The manager wants to tease the hell out of the two of you and decided it'd be a good day to pull out that stunt, knowing full well toji wouldn't flinch at the slightest. How dare he never considered this sort of reaction from him.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Tryna tease ya, is it that bad?" The manager huffs, "C'mon now, fuck her."
"No, she's trembling!" He yells, his arms tightens around you. Your fingers fidget the back of his neck and Toji inhales sharply, trying hard to ignore the way your hole clenches around him.
"And? You don't trust me?" The manager asks, gun still pointing at his balls. Toji grunts silently before pecking your cheeks, his eyes not leaving his manager once.
He quietly whispers into your ear, "Do as I say, hmm? Don't want him to shoot us up, yeah?"
You whimper, nails digging into his back when he adjusts your body. Body now stiff with fear despite feeling the loving touches of Toji's hands.
"I'm gonna adjust your body," A groan leaves his lips at the feel of your soaked pussy clenching around his hardened cock. Thus, he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you.
His manager, without hesitating, traces the gun around his balls, even pushing it up a little with each thrust you got from the seated male.
Toji hisses at the sensation, heart pumping shots of adrenaline in fear and pleasure. He held his breath in, not until you ride yourself vigorously on him. He throws his head back, moans slipping off his lips the faster you go. He doesn't know that the tip of the gun was already poking at your entrance, adding a sudden stretching feel to your hole.
With a glint of playfulness in his eyes, the manager pulls the gun away. A sigh escapes your lips at the disminishing feeling of the gun, but the growing warm feeling in your core slowly dies down.
"Baby, you liked that?" Toji tilts his head aside, his breath unsteady. You look away from him, hiding yourself in the crook of his neck. So embarrassing, fucking yourself stupid in front of his manager, plus the way you got off to the feel of fear was... wild, bizarre even.
Toji continues to bounce your body on him, yet you don't feel the quick push towards the edge like how you felt minutes ago.
You needed that quick push.
Tears forming by the corner of your eyes, you timidly nodded. Eliciting a small chuckle out of Toji's half dried lips. He cocks his head, "One more time."
This time the manager knew what to do, he traces the gun at Toji's ball, and then to your core where he enters in. The manager swallows a thick lump of saliva, the filthy sound so loud and clear he knows he has to escape once this was over.
The heat between you and toji's body grew and you couldn't bear it any longer, your back now arches off his body while two hands gripped tightly onto his biceps for support.
Suddenly his hot mouth encloses around your hardened nipple, his warm, wet tongue lapping the swollen bud over and over again while thrusting into you at an urgent pace.
He sighs, he bites, he nibbles, he licks... your mind in a blur while your hips glides in and out of his member, legs trembling while your lips mouthed his name over and over again.
"Toji! Toji! Please Toji..." you whined, "So good, fuck me so... so... good."
Hands trailing down from your neck, he grabs both side of your hips, thrusting into you harder. The gun now directed to play with his balls. His moans came out in broken strings, and he slams into you, amazed by how your body trembles despite feeling his back stinging from your scratches.
"Interesting, so interesting." The manager breathes out. toji shivers at the gun tracing his balls again, this time the manager brings up the tip, showing you two the tip, now coated in white. "The cum's a lot from this one."
"Please, just leave already dumbass." Toji waves him off. "Swear I'll make you pay for my meal next week."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever man," the manager shrugs, hands shoved into his pocket. He pauses after turning the knob, "Gun wasn't loaded by the way."
"I know."
"You knew?" Toji turns to you.
You grinned, "Yeah-"
"How?" He scoffs while leaning against the couch.
"Let's just rest, I'm tired. Clean me up because you agreed to this shit."
© 2021 seindou, do not repost or plagiarize.
#letters;#aiyaiyai#✨ aurelius;#toji smut#fushiguro toji smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader#fushiguro toji#toji#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#written works#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#letters.toji;
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Jouska [Hotch x Reader]
Chapter 22:
A/N: hahaha more angst, also gay Emily. Ena literally held me at gunpoint until I wrote her into this chapter so that’s why she’s here, sorry. Reader and Hotch are pining, heartbroken idiots but it will be worth it, I PROMISE!!
Warnings: None really, mentions of pregnancy and Haley. Hotch is down bad, so is reader. She is trying to move forward, but will she? Doubtful. Hotch is also upstanding which is to his own detriment but are we surprised? No. Sorry again.
———
"I'm not tragic these days, I don't weep, but I feel alone, bewildered, far from you, far from everything - nothing has any meaning." - Simone de Beauvoir
———
*1 month post-breakup*
A week after your party incident, you’re touching back down in the States. The night you burnt Jordan’s shit, you did end up asking Emily why she suddenly decided to change her grad school applications from Georgetown to Yale. And although she’d fed you some bullshit lie about how she knew the campus and the professors better, you knew her well enough to understand that she’d upended her plans to keep an eye on you.
Your first instinct was to get defensive and tell her you didn’t need a babysitter but after what she shared with you, you figured it probably is best this way. At least this way, you can start to repay her for her selflessness by making sure she’s okay too.
You arrive in time for moving day, spending three nights at Emily’s off campus apartment. The morning of the move, she drags you out of bed with the promise of iced coffee and doughnuts and helps you lug your things into Baker Hall, only a few units down from where she lived during freshman year. Your dad had offered to fly down and help you move in, but you figured it would be an unnecessary step in his already busy work schedule - notwithstanding the fact that you’d probably have to hear about Hotch.
And you can’t stomach the fact that your dad has a son-like soft spot for the man you‘re hopelessly in love with.
You don’t miss the stares you get as you walk down the halls, parents and residents all fighting the urge to stare but failing anyway. You know the kidnapping was televised, you remember Haley mentioning she saw you on the TV and you’d seen the papers. Emily mentioned something about the cocktail party making news too, but you’d assumed it was only national. Apparently not.
In the week since, headlines about you being a spoilt party girl had made the rounds, speculations about you drowning your trauma in alcohol, drugs and parties which led to you dodging your dad’s calls. You can’t say there were entirely wrong.
“Oh wow.” Emily says with wonder, ignoring passersby. “It looks exactly the same.”
“Yeah.” You grunt, with your boxes. “It’s supposed to, it’s student housing. They’re not exactly renovating the place bi-annually.”
“Funny. Oh, you know what? I’m going to check if it’s still here!”
“If what’s still here?”
“The dent in the wall next to the power outlet! May had a Christmas party and some poor lacrosse playing asshole ended up headbutting the wall when he passed out in this room.”
“Jesus, how hard did he hit his head?”
“Ah, he was wearing his helmet.” She grunts as she scrapes the bed across the floor, revealing, sure enough, a dome sized dent in the wall. “Yep. Still there.” She reaffirms triumphantly.
“You were friends with lacrosse players in undergrad? I don’t believe you.”
“Hey! Rude. She feigns offence. “I mean, I wasn’t but May was kind of seeing one of the runts on the team so they all ended up coming. Sasha and I played drunk poker on the sidelines and watched everyone get shitfaced. I moved out as soon as I humanly could.”
You scoff, grabbing duvet covers from the box.
“Hi!” A voice comes behind you. A taller, lean girl stands by the door wearing a cable knit sweater and skirt co ord, her long braids framing her elegant, dark features. “I’m Imani! I’m in the unit next door, it’s nice to meet you.” She waves and steps inside hesitantly, outstretching a hand, which you take and introduce yourself. Shegestured sweepingly. “Oh yeah, I totally know who you are! Not in a weird way, I just saw you on TV and stuff and thought you were totally kickass.”
“Thanks!” Emily replies for you.
You roll your eyes. “That’s Emily. Ignore her. She’s way too excited to be moving me in.”
“No, no - you guys are good.” Imani laughs.
Emily shakes her head and catches sight of another girl by the door dressed in an open flannel shirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans. She wipes her forehead and some stray brown hairs away from her face as she comes in, nodding at Imani and introducing herself to you and Emily.
“Hey, I’m Ena, I’m in the unit next door with Imani.” You nod and take her hand first, then Emily - but you notice Emily’s lingering gaze and handshake and strangely enough, the new girl reciprocates with warm brown eyes. Your best friend’s cheeks blush as she quickly retracts her hands when she realises you’re looking, clearing her throat.
She still doesn’t know you know. It’s fine. You can wait until she’s ready.
Imani laughs. “Well, listen I should be heading back, I still gotta get unpacked but would you maybe want to get together some time later today? Maybe catch a movie or something with Ena and I?”
“Yeah, sure! I'd love to.” You reply. “Thanks, Imani.”
“No problem. I’ll see you in a few!” Her voice trails as she leaves down the hall, with Ena following behind her.
“They seem nice.” Emily murmurs, thinking out loud more than anything as she tucks her hair behind her ears.
Nice. Sure.
She helps you unpack your things, hangs some pictures and string lights up to make the unit feel more ambient but your anxiety begins to flare up at the prospect of being alone without her. Without anybody. Sure, you’ve been living alone on and off since seventeen, your dad co-signed the lease for your apartment in DC, but that place is home. You’re familiar with that space. This is entirely new, and while new should be a welcome concept after the year you’ve had, all you crave is familiarity.
Home.
Him.
Almost sensing your unease, Emily grabs your hand and sits you down on the couch next to her. “Staying on campus, it’s basically a formality for freshmen. You can come stay with me anytime, I’m always going to be here for you okay? You have a key, come by whenever, day or night. Call me if you need anything at all, okay? I mean it. Anything.”
“Okay.”
“I meant it. Even if it’s 3am and you just need to talk. Promise?”
Your heart feels very full at this moment. “I promise.”
She rubs her hands over her thighs nervously, and for a second, you think she might be more nervous than you are. “Alright, well. I don’t want to keep you from movie night with your new friends… Call me before you go to sleep?” She runs her hands over your arms.
“I will. Thanks for today.”
“You don’t need to thank me. That’s what I’m here for.” She pulls you into a hug. “I love you. Be good.”
You laugh. “I will! Now go, get out of here.”
You see her off and return back to your unit, the silence a little unsettling. You figure it’s something you need to get used to eventually, and you’re done using people as crutches and coping mechanisms. Maybe now would be the time to take up a hobby?
Writing? Reading? Knitting?
That night after watching some Halloween themed movies with your new friends, you sleep. You still sleep with the lights on, just so you don’t wake up in a blind, cold panic in the middle of the night in your unfamiliar surroundings. You dream now, resisting the urge to wake up and push past visions of Jordan tormenting you until you dream of Hotch’s safe embrace and his kiss on your skin.
And while the heartache still stings, suddenly, sleeping isn’t the worst part of your day anymore because you get to be with him.
———
It’s Sunday night and - in what has become a nightly ritual for him now - Hotch sits in bed and leaves you a voicemail as a way to hold onto you just a little while longer.
‘Hi! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Probably!’
“Hi.” He’s tired today. “I just finished up a case in Connecticut today, flew back yesterday morning.” Neither of you know it, but you’d just narrowly missed each other at the airport. “This one was a little better. It’s still rough, seeing all the bodies in person. I mean, I thought I’d be desensitised to it all, but apparently not. Maybe you made me soft. You always did have a knack for that.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I saw you on the news. I hope Italy is treating you well.”
He knows it isn’t. He’d seen the news coverage of the soirée, and he’d caught a glimpse of you in your black cocktail dress that he’d played back over and over and over again until it was burned into his mind. But even from oceans away, he could see the grief in your eyes, the fallen expression on your face. His chest tightens.
“I still miss you everyday. I dream about you every night, even when I try not to. It’s like my brain is on a constant loop, working overtime or something to connect every single thing I see, hear and think to you - somehow. But I suppose that’s par for the course. I don’t know what else I expected. I still wish I’d told you that I loved you. Because I do. So fucking much that it hurts to breathe. I don’t think I’ll ever love anybody the way I love you. Look, I should probably get going, your voicemail is probably going to be full soon but I think I’ll keep leaving these for as long as I can? I doubt you’ll ever hear them. I hope you’re okay. Wherever you are.”
———
*Seven months post-breakup*
Five months later, he walks down the aisle with a heavily pregnant Haley. A month after you’d left, Hotch had finally called her, picked her up from her hotel and moved her into the room they used to share. He’d told her that despite everything that had happened they were still going to be co parents and needed to figure out how to be in the same room together.
And that was fine with her too. There’s something to be said about too much happening in a relationship to the point where you can’t get back what you once had and they both come to the same conclusion.
They simply work better as friends. But with parental pressure on both sides and appearances to uphold, not to mention Hotch’s traditional and at times misguided sense of duty, he proposes to Haley. It’s clear from the outset that they’ll remain friends, and she’s okay with that again.
She knows the vacant look in his eyes is because you’re not here anymore and guilt twists in her stomach.
They attend couple’s therapy under the guise of mending their marriage, but it’s more about learning to trust one another again, learning to move past the atom bomb named Jordan.
And the evening she goes into labour, they both realise that there is still a lot of love between them - it’s just shifted. A kind of platonic gratitude that comes from holding their first child, of knowing that this tiny human wouldn’t have been possible without the other.
It doesn’t stop him from calling your voicemail. Like he has every week for the last five months. He checks in on Haley and the baby, stepping out into the brisk late night air. He’s managed to suspend belief enough, doesn’t question too much the fact that your voicemail never seems to get full. He’s focusing on counting his blessings.
‘Hi! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Probably!’
He breathes sharply, cold air puffing in front of him. “Hi… So, it’s around 3am and I’m happy today. Happier than I have been in a long time, maybe the happiest I’ve ever been. I have a baby - a son. Jack.” He tears up a little, the words unfamiliar in his mouth. “7lbs, 3ozs and it’s weird, but he kind of looks like me, poor kid. I wish you could be here to see him. To see me. Us.” He remembers the words you wrote in the letter and how you believed he could do right by his kid. “Truth is, I’m terrified, scared shitless that I might do something wrong, mess him up. But I’ve never loved anything like I love him - it’s scary.”
The moon is out tonight and while usually obstructed by city pollution, tonight it seems closer and clearer, the starry sky filling his mouth with a bittersweet taste.
“It’s been six months. Six months and I’m still stuck on you. I keep waiting for the day when I wake up and you’re not the first thing I think about. For the day I wake up and I don’t wish you were sleeping next to me. I know I should let go, I only have parts of you scattered here and there, barely enough to make a whole but I still can’t let go. You still own me, all of me.”
He swallows down his tears. “But you believed in me. You believed I could be a good father to my son. You left so I could do this, and that was so fucking selfless - I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. So, thank you. For everything you gave me. I love you?” He says the last part like a question, like he doesn’t know what to do with it anymore. And the truth is, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what to do with the love he has for you.
But what he does know is he can’t keep going on like this. “This can’t be healthy, right? Talking to a voicemail, like you could actually be listening to me? It’s useless, I know. But I do think I have to start to let you go, even though there’s nothing I want to do more than to keep your memory. I think we both deserve that. So thank you. For letting me love you, even if it was fleeting. Goodbye.”
A fleeting love on your part maybe, he thinks. But to him, it’s an overwhelming, all-consuming yet quiet and enduring love. A love that’s full of contradictions and sharp edges and so passionate that it seeps from his pores. But he can’t be angry anymore, not at the universe and the circumstances that gave him his son. So that’s what he’ll do. He’ll put the love he has for you into honouring your sacrifice, into making sure he can be the best father he can be to Jack.
And he hopes maybe one day that the universe will reward him for it.
———
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Reviewing Star Trek TNG - S1E11 “The Big Goodbye”
THE PREMISE
The Enterprise is en route to open diplomatic ties with the Jarada, an insectoid race who are unusually strict in protocol, to the point where even a single mispronunciation in their complex language could start a war.
Eager to take a break from the understandably stressful preparations, Captain Picard immerses himself in a holodeck program, taking the role of fictional detective Dixon Hill. On a subsequent visit he is joined by Dr Crusher, Data and visiting historian Dr Whalen. However, a scan from the Jarada causes the holodeck to malfunction, preventing the doors from opening and cutting off any communication, trapping Picard and the others inside.
MY REVIEW
Holodeck episodes are usually good fun - "Our Man Bashir" and "Take Me Out to the Holosuite" from DS9 come to mind - and this episode is no exception.
I have to give massive credit to the production team for doing such a thorough job on the film noir style of this episode's set and costume design - the episode's costumes even won it an Emmy. It often felt like I was watching an entirely different series which just so happened to feature a lot of the Next Generation cast... as long as you ignore Brent Spiner's android makeup.
Picard and Co's almost childlike sense of wonder and curiosity at the unfamiliar setting is a lot of fun to watch. While being interrogated on suspicion of murder, Picard can't help but marvel at the accuracy and detail of the program. Data also has fun getting into character, dressing the part and speaking the 1930s lingo.
Even when Whalen gets shot, the others applaud him at first for his performance... until they realise that he's actually been severely wounded due to the holodeck's safety protocols being disabled.
This episode also does a good job of maintaining tension - the ship's captain is trapped right when important negotiations are set to begin, Whalen gets shot and will die if they can't get him to sickbay, the others are held at gunpoint by a mob boss and his goons, and even when a solution is found (by Wesley Crusher, to give credit where it's due) there's a danger of the holodeck's occupants being outright disintegrated - a bit far-fetched if I'm being honest, but it gets the job done as a threat.
The holodeck's mob boss, Cyrus Redblock (a bit cheesy, but the program is based on a series of pulp novels) is played by what was probably Star Trek's biggest guest star at the time: Lawrence Tierney. He absolutely steals the show, almost making you forget that he's just a hologram... something which he and his lackey find out the hard way.
Speaking of guest stars, we also get a brief appearance from the always welcome Dick Miller. Good stuff.
The negotiations with the Jarada are little more than a plot device for the Enterprise to be heading somewhere important and to get the characters into the holodeck, but fortunately they're not the focus here. Hell, the Jarada never even appear onscreen!
This is the second episode written by Tracy Tormé, who previously wrote "Haven." I'm glad to see such an improvement from his first outing.
7/10 - Fun episode. Would recommend.
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#star trek#star trek the next generation#star trek tng#the next generation#uss enterprise#starship enterprise#jean luc picard#will riker#geordi la forge#deanna troi#data#beverly crusher#wesley crusher#tasha yar#holodeck#dixon hill#star trek review#tv review#series review#reviews
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trust that there will be light always waiting behind
8.4k || ao3
TK has gone out of his way to prove to Carlos that being a paramedic is every bit as dangerous as being a firefighter, it seems.
But Carlos will do whatever it takes to find him and bring him home safe, and he always will. Even if it means he needs to face some personal demons on the way. But it's worth it - he refuses to lose TK for anything.
------
A 2x08 speculative fic
All the kudos and thanks to @officereyes for not only convincing me to actually write this but for also brainstorming with me, a lot.
Will it happen like this? Probably not. But we can dream. All I can ask for is some quality Carlos and his dad content, and maybe Owen not being as shitty as he has been lately. But because I don't trust Fox to give us that, I wrote it.
Title from "Six" by Sleeping at Last
--------------
TK wasn’t sure how things had gone from normal to total nightmare in a matter of seconds, but here they were.
In this case “here” meant that the pregnant woman they were meant to be helping was not in fact, pregnant and that he and his team were now being held at gunpoint in an empty parking garage.
So yeah, total nightmare. And the day had started off so well.
He stood quietly, body tense with his hands up wishing he had been paying more attention; that he had noticed them coming from behind before they had gotten the drop on them. That he had noticed before he and his team were in danger. But he hadn’t and here they were: at gunpoint looking at a critically injured patient they were expected to save with only the gear in their medpacks. Which was especially bad, considering it seemed pretty clear that their survival depended on his.
He exchanged a glance with Nancy as he pulled open the bag to start grabbing gear, doing his best to shoot her a reassuring smile. All the while he couldn’t help but think about something Carlos had said when he had discussed becoming a paramedic with him. One of the pros, he had noted wryly as he planted a kiss on the top of TK’s head, was that at least his boyfriend being a paramedic instead of a firefighter would mean he would have to worry less. TK had rolled his eyes at the time but now he could say quite firmly that Carlos was wrong.
After all, he had never been held at gunpoint as a firefighter.
----------
A surprise party worked best when the person who is supposed to be surprised shows up, Carlos figured.
If it were anyone else, he might have been amused. But it was TK, who was supposed to be at his parent’s house for his surprise party 40 minutes ago. Tommy and Nancy were going to bring him by after shift but instead, none of them had shown up and Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
He could see the unease growing in the eyes of some of the others too as they made the transition from amused to concerned as the time ticked by. Carlos had tried calling TK almost a dozen times now, only to get his voicemail each time. He knew that Tommy and Nancy had gotten calls too, from Judd and Marjan respectively, with the same result. Now, 40 minutes later it had moved from a feeling to a fact: something was wrong. He could see Owen off to the side of the yard now, speaking lowly into his phone as he tried to get an update from dispatch. His expression was grim and when he ended the call Carlos crossed the yard towards him.
“Well?” he asked when he drew close enough, “what did they say?”
Owen shook his head, “They can’t reach the unit, and it hasn’t been in contact for over an hour.”
Carlos could feel the fear solidifying within him even as he asked the next question, “Were they able to tell you where?”
“I’m waiting on that info now.”
Even as he said it his phone dinged with an incoming text and Carlos craned his neck to read the address over Owen’s shoulder.
“That’s not too far,” he said, “if we leave now we should be there within the hour.” At Owen’s surprised look he raised an eyebrow, “What? You thought I was just going to stay here while you go look for them? Not likely.”
Owen nodded and managed a small smile, “Let’s go then. We have a paramedic team to find.”
--------
It took some negotiating but Tommy had managed to ultimately convince the people with guns that their friend would be better off receiving treatment in the ambulance rather than in the back of a van. As they packed up their supplies and got the patient ready to move to the ambulance TK’s mind was racing through all the implications. This move meant that they were planning on relocating, which meant that they would be leaving their last known location. Once they left this parking garage unless they were somehow able to check-in, dispatch would have no way of knowing where they were and they would be officially labeled as MIA.
Which was less than ideal, but did at least mean that someone would be looking for them. TK pushed the used gauze into a pile, taking care to make sure that his back was turned to their kidnappers as he reached for his neck and pulled at his necklace until the chain came undone. He slid it under the edge of the pile, where it would hopefully be spotted by anyone looking for clues. He looked up to see Nancy and Tommy both giving him curious looks. He met their eyes and mouthed, “Carlos.”
Once they were reported missing there was a zero percent chance that his boyfriend would not be involved in the search, he knew that without a doubt. It was subtle enough that it would hopefully pass their captors’ notice, but Carlos would recognize it instantly. It was something that would tell him that they had been here, and that they were in danger. Carlos would know that TK wouldn’t have parted with the pendant otherwise.
Nancy raised an eyebrow and Tommy shot him a quick smile as they finished their prep and got ready to move the patient. When they entered the ambulance and got the patient settled TK crossed to the cab and pulled himself into the driver’s seat, only to look down and get a sinking feeling. While traveling by ambulance would be ultimately better for the patient (and by extension, them) TK had also been banking on the fact that once in the ambulance there would be more opportunities to call for help.
Which was a hope quickly dashed when he saw that their radio had been ripped out, effectively eliminating the possibility of getting help that way. TK bit his lip and turned his eyes to the road in front of him as the armed man climbed into the cab beside him. “Drive,” he instructed plainly and TK complied, switching on the engine and shifting the vehicle into gear, acutely aware of the gun leveled at his chest the entire time. Getting shot was not an experience he had been looking forward to relieving ever again if he could help it.
“Where to?” he asked.
“Just drive and I direct you.”
TK nodded and slowly pulled forward, keeping his eyes trained on the road.
Maybe, just maybe these people were more reasonable than they seemed and maybe this wouldn’t end in disaster, TK thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking garage and headed to the right as instructed. They just need to keep everything calm until help arrived. Because it would, TK was sure of it.
--------
The ride there was filled with tense silence, their combined anxiety filling the car to capacity and leaving no room for words. Carlos kept an eye on the phone in his hand, the small blue dot tracing their location and showing their progress as they grew closer and closer to the destination flag. They were almost there. They would have answers soon, one way or another.
He spared a glance at Owen. The fire captain’s eyes were glued to the road and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles shining white against the black upholstery. His jaw was set and his expression was full of a panic Carlos was sure was reflected in his own face. He wondered if Owen was thinking the same thing: things had been going so well. Possibly too well, and now the universe was looking to even the score. Carlos hated the thought — TK deserved all the good things the world had to offer, in his opinion — but it was one he couldn’t help but wonder. He just hoped that no matter what, TK would be okay. No matter what the universe was trying to throw at them as long as he was safe at the end, Carlos could take it.
Reaching the parking garage had been the easy part, it turned out. He and Owen drove the levels in tense silence, each scanning for any clues, any signs of the missing paramedics. It wasn’t until he saw a black panel van parked haphazardly that Carlos broke the tense silence: “Stop the car!”
Owen did and Carlos was out his door before the car had even lurched to a complete stop. He ran to the van, heart sinking as he noticed the back doors hanging open. He approached with increased trepidation, not sure what he was hoping to find. When he reached the back and got his first look inside the van, he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.
Bloody gauze and other medical scraps littered the ground, along with three broken cell phones, all of which seemed to have been smashed. Carlos could feel dread building in his gut as he surveyed the destruction. He sensed Owen come up behind him, heard the low curse he let out at the scene.
“There’s no saying any of the blood is theirs,” he reminded Carlos as if he could read the frantic thoughts racing through his mind, each possibility worse than the last.
Carlos bit back a retort — there was no good in reminding Owen that there was no saying it wasn’t either — and was about to ask another question when he noticed something silver poking out from under one of the gauze scraps. He leaned forward to grab it, heart sinking when he pulled it out to reveal a very familiar necklace.
“Maybe,” he told Owen as he turned, holding up the necklace while the FDNY pendant glinting in the low light of the parking garage, “but they were definitely here.”
Carlos hadn’t been sure it was possible but he was certain he saw the fear in Owen’s eyes grow as he took the necklace from Carlos, running his thumb over the numbers engraved in the pendant. “He left this as a clue,” he said quietly, and Carlos nodded.
“Which probably means they were taken somewhere else and TK wanted us to know they were here.”
Owen nodded, pulling his gaze up from the necklace to meet Carlos’s eyes, “We need to find them.”
His voice was tinged in desperation, a feeling Carlos knew well. He nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone as he took another look at the mess in the back of the van. “We will,” he told Owen, “and I think I know someone that can help.”
------
Their destination had turned out to be an abandoned restaurant, shuttered by the pandemic. As workspaces went it wasn’t a bad one, if a little dusty, and they got their patient set up on a prep table in no time, falling into their usual rhythm as they returned to this relative familiarity. TK was currently retrieving supplies from one of their cases and running through the situation in his head, separating it into pros and cons.
Pro: they had come here in an ambulance with their house number clearly painted on it in broad daylight. Once people started looking it shouldn’t be too hard to spot.
Con: they were deep into a neighborhood known for being an entertainment district. While traffic had decreased significantly overall since the start of the pandemic it was nearly non-existent this early in the day. The odds of a casual observer being in the neighborhood were slim to none, which was not a thought that brought much comfort.
The man shouted at him to hurry up and TK quickly added another con to his list as he grabbed the last thing and crossed back to the table: their kidnappers were not reasonable people and every moment that passed seemed to push them just that much closer to the edge. Even as he thought it the woman edged closer to Nancy, causing her to tense as the cold metal of the gun was pressed against her side.
“Hey,” he said firmly, “if you want us to save your friend, you need to let us work. That means you and your guns should be at least 6 feet away. It’s a little hard to focus otherwise.”
The woman glanced at the man, who was studying TK. TK met his gaze steadily, not looking away until the man nodded and turned to his companion, “Go wait by the door, just in case. They’re not going anywhere.”
She nodded and TK could breathe easier as she stepped away from Nancy, who visibly relaxed and shot TK a grateful look. Tommy eyed him quickly before returning her focus to the patient. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Strand, but in the future maybe let’s try to not antagonize the criminals with guns, yeah?”
TK nodded as he worked, “Sorry Cap, I just really don’t like guns. Chalk it up to bad personal experience.”
Nancy grimaced at the reminder and Tommy nodded, “Then let's keep this calm, no one needs to get shot today. I’m not losing another member of my crew, you both got that?”
“Yes Cap,” TK and Nancy chorused, lapsing into silence as they worked. Unfortunately, with their supplies, there was only so much they could do. They had had a busy morning before this call had come in and no time to restock in between. They were running low on pretty much everything, and everything they had would have hardly been enough to repair the damage before them on a good day. But, despite everything, he was still a patient and he was still in need of treatment so they did what they always did: everything they could.
Even as they worked TK made sure to keep one eye on their kidnappers. With each passing minute, they seemed to get more and more restless, and increasingly desperate. The woman even seemed twitchy and TK vaguely wondered if she was going through withdrawal. All the signs were there and if she was that made their situation even worse. TK knew how that felt first hand and knew what it could do to a person’s mental state. The idea that she might be coming down from a high and was currently pointing a gun at them was less than ideal and he mentally added it to his con list.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t the one to crack first. TK was helping Captain Vega to do what they could to clean and secure the entry wound when the man stepped closer, waving the gun around as he shouted, “What is taking so long? We’ve been here too long, we need to get moving!”
“Do you want it done right or do you want it done fast?” Tommy asked evenly, her voice calm and level.
The man scowled at that, but stepped away, “Just, go as fast as you can.”
TK watched him walk away, glancing at the clock above the door and cursing before running his free hand across his face, the hand holding the gun tapping against his leg.
“He’s spiraling Cap,” TK noted softly, “we might need a plan if you want to avoid that whole one of us getting shot thing.”
“And we’ll find one,” Tommy agreed, “but for now we stick with the original one: do our jobs and keep calm.”
TK nodded tersely and continued with the task at hand. It was only a few more moments before his Captain gave a soft curse and he looked over to see her scowling at the bag next to her. “We’re out of saline,” she said in answer to his questioning look, “can you go see if there is any more in that bag by the door?”
TK nodded and crossed the bag laying on the ground next to the door they had entered. As he grew closer he noticed that the bag wasn’t the only thing by the door: a fire alarm, bright red against the white of the walls and shining like a beacon of hope as he drew closer, was situated on the wall just past the bag. If he could reach it and pull it, dispatch would be notified. A fire company and at least one APD unit would be called and the alarm might be enough of a distraction for them to get out of here and get somewhere safe until help arrived. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the two armed assailants were not watching him and made up his mind. He was going to pull it, and hope for the best. If it doesn’t work it’ll have been his idea and his idea alone — the rest of his team doesn't need to be involved in this. This was a stupid choice he could make for himself and by himself.
He stepped forward, hardly daring to breathe as he drew closer. He was just about to reach out his hand when he heard footsteps behind him, loud and fast. He turned in time to see a hand reaching for him, aiming to strike him with the side of the gun. He ducked, the hand missing his target as he dodged the blow. The man came for him again and TK managed to dodge the next blow as well, and the one after that.
They moved away from the wall and TK had the frantic thought that maybe he could get the gun away from him, maybe he could actually get the upper hand. He reached for it, throwing himself into the man’s space and reaching around for his arm. He leaned closer, so intent on his goal that he didn’t notice the man rummaging on the nearby shelf with his free hand. He didn’t notice his other hand at all until a sharp pain ripped through his side, causing him to release his grip on the other man involuntarily. He stumbled back, hands reaching blindly to the source of the pain coursing through his body. He felt a warm and sticky wetness and was about to lift his hand to examine it when he felt another sharp pain which caused his vision to go white before everything went black and he knew no more.
-----
Carlos hadn’t had to say too much before his dad had agreed to help out. One of the perks of being a Ranger, Gabriel reminded his son, was getting to choose the cases he focused on from time to time. He wasn’t sure if it was the words he had said or the tone of his voice that had done the convincing but within two minutes his dad had taken down the address and was on his way. He had said he was likely 10 minutes out but each one of those minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly.
He and Owen waited in tense silence, neither saying a word since Carlos had hung up the phone with the news that a Texas Ranger was on the case. Owen had raised an eyebrow but after Carlos clarified that it was his dad his expression had shifted to something unreadable and Carlos wondered how much Owen knew about his parental situation in regards to TK.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as it happened. About 4 minutes into their wait, after Owen had made a phone call to Gwyn and Carlos had sent out some updates to the team, Owen cleared his throat, turning to Carlos before he spoke.
“I don’t want to pry, Carlos, but TK mentioned something about you and your parents a few months ago and I just want to know where that stands. I don’t want to make things weird for you, but I also don’t want to accidentally reveal any information you’re not okay with.”
Carlos nodded, feeling a rush of appreciation for the older man’s tact as he responded, “They know I’m gay,” he told Owen plainly, “but they don’t know I’m in a relationship. They’ve never known about any of my relationships, we just don’t talk about it. When TK and I ran into them at the farmer’s market I introduced him as a friend and as far as they know that’s the truth.” Carlos turned to see Owen’s reaction, not sure what to expect. Anger maybe? Frustration or upset?
When he did turn he didn’t see any of those. Instead, the older man’s face was neutral as he nodded. “They won’t find out otherwise from me,” Owen promised him, and Carlos nodded his thanks, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He was surprised, however, when Owen continued talking.
“I know it’s not my place to tell you how to interact with your parents,” he began, “but for what it’s worth, I would never want TK to keep something that was important to him from me because he was worried it might make me upset or uncomfortable. From everything you and TK have said about your parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if they felt the same way.”
Carlos could feel Owen’s gaze on him, steady and reassuring despite everything, and he nodded. He could feel Owen’s words rattling inside his head, but there was no way to process them right now, not when the fear of possibly losing TK and the worry that his danger-prone boyfriend was missing was so soundly occupying the forefront of his thoughts.
He was still trying to parse through it all when he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. He stood as he recognized his dad’s truck, crossing to meet him as he pulled to a stop. “Thank you,” he told his dad as he stepped out, “I really appreciate this.”
“Anything for you, mijo,” his dad assured him with a smile, “all you have to do is ask. Which you rarely do, which tells me this is pretty important.”
There’s something else there, in his dad’s words and his expression, that tells Carlos that his dad knows there is something Carlos isn’t telling him, but he ignores it. It didn’t matter right now — nothing mattered except for finding TK. “Still,” he says instead before turning to Owen who has been hovering at the back of the van. “This is TK’s dad, Captain Owen Strand of the 126.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Gabriel says with a nod, “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Likewise,” Owen replies quickly before diving right in. “Were you able to find out anything yet?”
“Actually yes,” Gabriel admitted and Carlos tensed at the expression on his dad’s face. It was the one he used when he tried to break bad news gently. “We think we may have identified the suspects. There was a bank robbery this morning and the suspects fled in a van matching the description Carlos gave me. There were three suspects — two who entered the bank and one getaway driver — and bank security thinks that they hit one of them while exchanging fire as they fled.”
There was so much information trying to squeeze into Carlos’s head now. None of it was good but one fact jumped out amongst the others. The suspects had exchanged fire with the security guards which meant…
“They’re armed,” he said tersely, the dread he had already been feeling threatening to overtake him now, “the suspects are armed.”
“And they needed the paramedics to treat their partner,” his dad agreed grimly.
“Do we know anything about what kind of shape the injured suspect was in?” Owen asked and Carlos could tell that his mind had gone to the same place his own had: if the paramedics were not able to save the injured bank robber, things didn’t look great for them. Their best hope was for a minor injury but judging by the amount of bloody gauze in the back of the van and the fact that it was a gunshot wound the chances for that were slim to non-existent.
Gabriel shook his head, “No, and the security cams in this parking garage are just for show, I already had someone check.”
So TK and his team were being held at gunpoint, being asked to provide medical care that should be done in a trauma room, and there was no way of saying where they had been taken or if they were okay. Carlos could feel his chest tighten in panic as the hopelessness of the situation set in.
“Are there any leads?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his voice.
“Well, they did leave in an ambulance, and that’s not exactly subtle,” his dad reminded him bracingly. “We’ve put out a bulletin — every cop, sheriff, and ranger will be looking for it. We’ll find them, mjio.”
Carlos nodded because he didn’t trust himself to speak and because he desperately needed it to be true. They needed to find them, and TK needed to be okay. Nothing short of that would be enough.
----------
TK knew he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
There were voices nearby, but TK couldn’t process any of them. Some of them sounded familiar but others were foreign; unknown with a hostile edge. He tried to open his eyes, to try and take stock of his surroundings but all he could see were vague and blurry shapes. He thought that someone called his name but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was in pain, and he was in danger.
The pull of the darkness was stronger than any fear or curiosity, however, and it washed back over him without hesitation, pulling him back under.
---------
Riding in his dad’s truck with his dad and Owen Strand would have been awkward on a good day but today, with his mind full of fear for TK and the tension of the secret between them all, it was unbearable. Carlos couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing anxiously against the floor — the exact same nervous tick he teased TK about on an almost daily basis. The irony wasn’t lost on him, or Owen it seemed as the man leaned forward from the back seat to put a steadying hand on his shoulder, empathetic eyes meeting his own in the rearview. Gabriel kept up a steady stream of one-sided chatter, undaunted by the lack of response from his traveling companions. Every once in a while his radio would crackle to life and Carlos could swear that he could feel his heart seize each and every time.
But every time it was the same: no news, no one had spotted the ambulance yet. Crime scene techs had scoured the van and surrounding area, pulling fingerprints and looking for anything else that could give them a lead on who these people were and where they may have gone. Carlos knew all too well that criminals, especially ones involved in crimes that took as much planning as a bank robbery did, were creatures of habit. If they had somewhere they felt was safe and secluded enough, they would go there. It was up to them to find it.
Carlos knew that his anxiety had not gone unnoticed by his father. He sent him surreptitious glances from time to time, in between radio updates and idle chatter. Finally, he asked a question: “You really care about this TK, don’t you?”
The opening was there, Carlos could see it. A part of his mind told him his dad must too, to open the door so plainly. But the fear of what could happen, of what he has convinced himself he stands to lose is too much. There was already so much fear in his heart from this nightmare he was trapped in, he can’t stand any more. So he nodded and simply answered, “Yeah, I do.”
He tried not to notice the disappointment and pity he could feel from all sides as Owen met his eyes again in the mirror. But his boyfriend’s father stayed silent as promised and Carlos looked away, turning his attention to the window instead. He knew he needed to tell them, he had been coming closer to making that decision on his own with each passing day. Now he just had to hope that they both survived this one and that there would still be something to tell at the end of it all.
His pessimistic spiral was interrupted by the familiar crackle of the radio. He listened absently as his dad grabbed it and at the words that came in response. At least he was only listening absently until some of the words processed in his mind: “Ambulance 126 has been spotted in an alley off W. Fourth St.”
His heart was working on beating its way out of his chest now. He sat upright, looking around frantically to get their bearings. They were only a few blocks east of West Fourth, they could be there in minutes. He relayed this to his dad who nodded before flipping on his lightbar and heading in the direction of the address provided. As they drove Carlos sent his desperate hopes out to the universe. Let them all be okay, let them actually be in or at least nearby the ambulance. Above all, let TK be safe.
As they sped through the city that was the thought that Carlos played on a loop in his head. Let TK be safe, and everything else would be fine
----------
TK came to awareness slowly and at first, the only thing he was truly aware of was the feeling of someone repeatedly tapping his cheek.
“Cut it out,” he whined and heard a relieved sigh in response.
“He’s awake,” a voice — Nancy? — declared and TK tried to open his eyes. It took several tries but he managed, painstakingly blinking them open to reveal the worried faces of his Captain and his partner staring down at him.
“Hey guys,” he said as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, “why the long faces?”
Captain Vega looked unimpressed with his efforts and pushed him back down onto the ground. “Don’t try to play nice with me Strand after you did that. Of all the reckless, foolhardy things. I really thought you had more sense than that.”
TK frowned at her, trying to piece together all the uncategorized shapes and sensations floating through his hazy mind, “What do you…” he began, but broke off when a sharp pain ripped through his side and Nancy pressed gauze down onto his side, “oh.”
It was coming back now.
“Yeah, ‘oh,’” his Captain scoffed, “what were you thinking TK?”
“I was thinking that they were getting more and more unhinged the longer we were here and that if I had been able to pull the fire alarm dispatch would be notified and it would have given us enough of a distraction we could have maybe saved ourselves,” he said defensively, trying hard to sound assertive when even just the dim lights of the kitchen were causing explosions of pain in his head.
“And how did that go for you?”
“Not great,” he admitted. “How long was I out?”
“Not too long,” Nancy told him as she lifted up the gauze to check on his stab wound, “and I’ve got the bleeding slowed but this wound is pretty deep. Not to mention the knife did not look particularly sterile so this needs treatment, soon.” She nodded towards the abandoned blood-covered chef’s knife on the ground that the man must have grabbed during their scuffle, and TK groaned.
“So probable infection,” he muttered, “great.”
“Not to mention with the width of that knife likely some significant damage,” Tomy reminded him, her unimpressed look holding firm.
“It’s not like I had any way of knowing he was going to find a knife, to be fair.”
“To be fair, I would think the guns should have been enough of a deterrent,” Tommy countered. “Wasn’t getting shot once enough for you?”
TK shifted uncomfortably under his Captain’s gaze and was about to fire back a retort when Nancy interrupted, “Can you both knock it off? Yes, that was incredibly stupid TK and if you weren’t already hurt I probably would have hit you myself. But it was also pretty brave, Cap, and he meant well. Either way, arguing about it is not going to change the fact that we’re still being held hostage and TK is still hurt so maybe it would be best if you both stopped, for my sanity if nothing else.”
She gave them both a hard look and TK did his best approximation of a nod with his throbbing head, not eager to be on his partner’s bad side. Tommy nodded as well, though the look she gave TK promised that they would be revisiting this later, assuming there was a later. He cleared his throat and glanced towards the table where their patient was still laid out, “How is he?”
“Stable, for now,” Tommy answered, following his gaze. “He’s going to need more blood than we can give him though: his friends don’t know his blood type and we only have so much O neg on hand.”
TK nodded, reading in between the lines of what his Captain wasn’t saying: he didn’t have much longer and if he didn’t, neither did they. “What are the others up to?”
“Arguing,” Nancy said softly, “about what to do with us.”
TK turned his gaze to them and though he couldn’t hear their words, he had a feeling he knew what they were saying and it wasn’t good. His suspicions were confirmed a few moments later when they approached.
“That’s enough of that,” the man informed them, gesturing roughly to where Nancy was tending to TK’s stab wound, “get away from him.”
“He needs—” Nancy tried to argue, but TK put a hand on her arm and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before holding out a hand for the supplies.
“It’s okay,” he told her, “I can handle it from here.”
She didn’t look impressed or convinced, but a wave of the gun prompted her to hand them over and pull herself up from the floor, stepping in the direction indicated by the woman. The man looked down at TK with disdain, “You’re done causing trouble,” he announced, “Because if you do it again, I will start shooting, but I won’t be aiming at you. Got it?”
TK swallowed and nodded. What else could he really say to that? He wasn’t about to risk his team’s safety for anything.
“Good,” the man declared with a nod, “glad we’re on the same page.” He turned to Nancy and Tommy now, “Is he stable enough to be moved right now?”
“He’s as stable as we can make him with what we have on hand,” Tommy told him calmly.
“Then we’re moving,” he declared, “we have another van stashed nearby. We’re going to move out,” he gestured towards himself and his companion, “and we’re taking our friend and this one with us.”
When all eyes turned to him TK realized “this one” meant him with a start. Which was...less than ideal, but at least he would know that the other two were out of danger and could probably get help.
“Absolutely not,” Tommy said in her firmest tone, “he’s injured, he needs treatment.”
“Which is why I know he’ll be no trouble,” the man countered, “plus he’s a paramedic, isn’t he? He can treat himself. I’ll let you give him some supplies, I’m not unreasonable.”
TK could practically see Tommy’s anger rising from his position on the floor and he spoke up before his Captain could say anymore, “It’s okay Cap,” he said, hoping his voice sounded more sure out loud than it did to his own ears, “I’ll be fine.”
Tommy turned her gaze to him and was more likely than not going to tell him how many ways that was not happening, but any arguments she may have made were abruptly cut off by the sound of the door banging open and a barrage of police officers entering the scene, guns raised.
TK let himself sag against the wall in relief as he saw their two assailants surrounded and even more when he spotted a familiar gaze in the crowd, filled with fear and worry as it grew closer to him.
“Carlos,” he said quietly, managing to pull a small smile to his face.
“Hey Ty,” Carlos said roughly, reaching out to run a hand through his hair even as he surveyed him for damage. His eyes widened and his jaw clenched as he spotted the bloody gauze poking out from underneath his hand just above his hip.
He reached for it, but TK called his name softly before shaking his head ever so slightly, “leave it be, I’ll be fine. I’m just so happy to see you.”
Carlos looked like he wanted to argue but he bit his lip, turning instead to the crowd behind them. TK followed his gaze and froze when he spotted Gabriel Reyes amongst the officers. He pulled away from Carlos ever so slightly, “Your dad…” he began, but Carlos shook his head, gripping TK hands tighter, not letting him pull away.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” he told him, “all that matters is that you’re safe.”
TK had so many questions, but his head was swimming. He wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or the head injury, but it was getting harder and harder to follow a fluid thought. He opened his mouth to try and ask any of them but was saved from the trouble of doing that by his dad appearing at his side, expression anxious as he kneeled down. He looked him over before calling over his shoulder for a medic and TK tried really hard to follow what was happening but it was becoming so much harder with each passing moment.
He was so disoriented he almost missed the commotion that erupted around them. All he knew was that Carlos’s hand was suddenly gone from his and he blinked several times, forcing himself to focus on what was happening around them. The woman had somehow managed to free herself of the officer cuffing her and had managed to grab her gun again. She was waving it frantically and shouting, but her words were a blur to TK. All he could focus on now was the fact that Carlos was closest to her, and that he was stepping closer to her.
That he was standing firmly between her and TK.
The rest of the world might be a blur of noise and light but this was clear as day. Carlos was stepping towards the woman, hands raised as he tried to speak calmly to her. But TK knew in his heart that he had been right about her state and knew that there would be no reasoning with her. But he also knew that Carlos would try, because that’s what Carlos did. He helped people, no matter what.
The next moment happened in a blink of an eye but TK saw it as if in slow motion. Carlos took a step forward, his soothing voice still speaking to her, still vibrating its way through the air as another sound erupted between them, eclipsing Carlos’s voice.
It was the sound of a gun firing and TK could do nothing but watch in horror as Carlos’s stride faltered before he stumbled. He could do nothing but try to call out his name with whatever breath he still had in his lungs as Carlos went down, and he could do nothing but feel his heart shatter when he didn’t get up.
TK tried to go to him, tried to push himself off the ground. He needed to help, he needed to save Carlos. But his body wouldn’t listen. The pain in his side sliced through him again with a vengeance and the last thing TK saw was Carlos’s unmoving body before his vision faded to black and he knew no more; left with the worst sight he had ever seen in his life as company as he fell into the darkness.
-------
Carlos woke slowly, bits and pieces of his surroundings making themselves known to him and helping to fill in the blanks in his mind: he was in the hospital, he had been hurt, he had been searching for TK…
And that was the thought that brought him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes with a gasp, feeling hands on him instantly. “TK,” he tried to ask, “is he…”
“Relax, mijo,” his dad told him soothingly, “TK is safe. He just woke up from his own surgery a short while ago. His dad assures me that he’s fine, and asking about you.”
Carlos took a deep breath and willed his heartbeat to slow. TK was alive, they had found him. He was hurt, but he was doing okay and Owen was with him. That did answer a lot of his questions, but there were still so many left. Starting with, “What happened?” he asked his dad.
Gabriel settled into the chair at the side of the bed, leaving a hand on Carlos’s arm as he studied him, “What do you remember, Carlos?”
“I remember TK and his team going missing, calling you, and finding them. After that, not much.”
Gabriel nodded and his hand on Carlos’s arm tightened, “One of the kidnappers, the woman, went a little crazy when your colleagues tried to bring her in. She freed herself from the officer’s trying to cuff her and you were closest. Well,” he amended, “you and TK. But you put yourself between them and tried to talk her down. It…” his dad broke off, clearing his throat and continuing with a thick voice, “it didn’t go well. You were shot, Carlos, right in front of me. I was so scared I was going to lose you, mijo. You cannot scare me like that, I am an old man.”
Despite it all, Carlos chuckled, “Please, you are not old dad. There are 20-year-olds older than you.”
His teasing didn’t put a dent into his father’s upset, and Carlos sobered, “I’m sorry,” he said instead, “that can’t have been easy. I know what it’s like to see someone you care about hurt like that. I’m sorry you had to see that, dad.”
Gabriel shook his head, leaning forward again, “You have nothing to apologize for Carlos,” he said firmly, “you only did what you thought was best, what you needed to do to protect the man you love.”
Carlos’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened, but his dad held his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, “You are not subtle, mijo. I had a feeling since this all started, but the moment I saw you with him, I knew.”
“I’m sorry I kept this from you and mom,” Carlos apologized softly, “that I lied to you when we met at the Farmer’s Market.”
“Stop apologizing Carlos,” Gabriel instructed, his tone matching his son’s, “you have nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be apologizing I think it should be me. Clearly, I did something or said something that made you feel like you couldn’t share this and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted you to feel like you had to hide anything from us, especially not this. I’m...” he trailed off and Carlos was surprised to see tears in his dad’s eyes, “I’m just sorry,” Gabriel finished, “I need you to know that. That and the fact that both your mother and I love you so much, no matter what.”
“I do know that,” Carlos assured him, “I never doubted that for a second.”
His father smiled at him and Carlos could feel a weight that had been subtly resting on him for nearly 10 years lifted. He met his father’s eyes and returned the smile.
“Dad,” he said clearly, with a confidence that had been so many years coming, “I have a boyfriend. His name is TK Strand, and I love him. He means everything to me.”
“I’m happy for you Carlos,” his father told him, a soft smile covering his face, “you deserve nothing but the most wonderful love the world has to offer, and I hope this boy can give you that.”
“He can,” Carlos assured him, “he does.”
----------
TK was staring moodily at the dark ceiling of his hospital room. Yes, he was beyond grateful to have been rescued and that his teammates were safe. They had just been by actually — both women very clear that they would stab him themselves next time if he ever tried to do something so reckless again — and he had been happy to see them. Just as he had his parents and his friends, all who had stopped by before the doctor informed them all that he needed rest.
That was all wonderful and he was grateful, but the one person he wanted to see more than anyone else — that he needed to see — was in a room of his own on the other side of the hospital. He had been assured by multiple reliable sources that he was fine: awake and alert and recovering nicely from his gsw (fuck, Carlos had been shot. That was a thought and a memory that was going to haunt him for a while, he knew it). But he had been denied any and all requests of seeing him with his own eyes due to his concussion — hence the dark room as light still wreaked havoc on his head — and the antibiotics slowly dripping their way into his system in an effort to cut off any possible infection from the dirty knife blade before it had a chance to take root. Which, as a paramedic, he recognized was reasonable. If it were anyone else he would have recommended the same. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was him and it was Carlos, and TK needed to see him with his own eyes before he could believe that he was really alright.
Since that was beyond his control, that left him with pouting about it in the dark, which is what he intended to do about it for the foreseeable future.
A soft knock at his door interrupted his plans and when he turned his head in the direction of the door, his breath caught in his throat.
“Carlos,” he breathed, his name emerging from his lips like a prayer as the other man gave him a small, tired smile from his wheelchair in the door. Behind him stood his father, looking at TK with a smile that told him everything he needed to know.
He waited as Gabriel pushed the wheelchair into the room, reaching out for Carlos, taking his hand in his own as soon as they were close enough to touch. He moved to the side of the bed, leaning over and meeting Carlos in a soft, tender kiss that he hoped did something to relay even a portion of the emotions he was feeling. They pulled apart and he met Carlos’s eyes, studying them and him for any signs that he wasn’t okay, but his study was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up, startled, to see Carlos’s father watching them with a bemused expression.
“I will leave you both alone,” he promised, “but first I just wanted to take a moment to meet you properly, TK. I am very glad you are okay.”
“Thank you, sir,” TK said warmly, still clutching Carlos’s hand.
Gabriel shook his head, “None of that ‘sir’ business now,” he told him, “as far as I’m concerned we’re family now. Call me Gabriel, please.”
“Well Gabriel, TK said lightly, “I am happy to meet you, officially.”
He grinned at Carlos, he matched his expression without a second thought. Gabriel watched the pair of them, smile growing.
“I would love to talk more with you TK, take some time to get to know you, but I know when I’m not wanted so we’ll take care of that later. Just remember Carlos,” he told his son, voice suddenly firm, “you’re injured too. Don’t overdo it.”
“Yes dad, thanks.”
Gabriel gave them both a smile and with an affectionate squeeze of Carlos’s shoulder, he was gone.
“So,” TK said as he watched the older man walk away, “you told him.”
Carlos scoffed, “I didn’t have to. He spent all day with me, looking for you. He figured it out pretty quickly.” He paused here, swallowing thickly as he looked back at TK, “God Ty, I was so scared. I don’t know what I would have done…”
TK cut him off, pressing a hand against his face, “Hey, none of that. We’re both okay, and that’s what matters.”
But even as he said it, he could feel his voice waver. The last memory he had before blacking out of Carlos collapsing after being shot would be forever ingrained in his memories, a vision he was sure would come back to haunt him for many nights to come. Carlos leaned forward now, placing a hand on top of TK’s and pulling it away from his face so he could twist their fingers together.
“Same goes for you,” he said firmly, as if he knew where TK’s mind had gone. Because of course he did. It was Carlos, and TK knew there was no part of him that was a mystery to the other man.
“Hey, remember when you said being a Paramedic would be less dangerous than being a firefighter?” TK quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood and Carlos rolled his eyes.
“Only you could manage to prove that wrong,” Carlos fired back, his voice a blend of fondness and exasperation. “Maybe you can try not to keep proving that wrong though, for my sake?”
“I guess I could try,” TK said softly, “if only for you. I love you an awful lot, you know.”
Carlos leaned forward and pulled him into a kiss with more heat than before. It was warm and bright and so full of everything TK had been so afraid of losing for good. When they pulled apart, both breathing heavier and both leaning in, resting their foreheads on each other, Carlos responded, “I love you so much, Tyler Kennedy. Don’t you ever get kidnapped on me again.”
“I’ll do my best,” TK promised, “but I know that if I do, you’d come find me.”
“And I always will,” Carlos assured him, squeezing their linked hands, “no matter what.”
#911 lone star#911 lone star fic#tarlos#tarlos fic#911ls season 2#911ls speculation#my writing#userkimmy#userjilly#userac#usermaximus#tuserpaige#userbones#jazzyjess#hierophvnts#maizsnex#buckybarnesalways#reyeslonestartag#immortalstrand
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The main reason IH is bullshit to me is that it's basically just for the stereotype cliche plot. There's the damsel in distress and oh would you look at that, she's in love w the protagonist, and turns out she's actually kinda special (like she has powers) and helps the protag! Except she doesn't, rather than that, i feel like ichigo is just constantly saving her from trouble and she doesn't do anything—though she totally can, her powers can heal, defend, and even attack but even with all the time and training i feel like she's just still the same. She only helps when ichigo is like half-dead, and that makes me wonder if she has something like a necrophilia kink or something and just wants to see ichigo dying.
And i feel like it's the same w RR, it's the childhood friends troupe. I'm kinda tired of it. RR were basically best friends and then they broke off, and then they both couldn't bother to communicate w each other. They're childhood friends, they grew up together, they should've at least noticed if things were going wrong for the other. Yet renji ignored that rukia literally was uncomfortable w being adopted and rukia hid things from renji, like her insecurities and inferiority complex (sorta). It would've been better if they'd just mended thing between them and then went back to their previous relationship, childhood friends, best friends, or even a brother and sister relationship or even just like a casual bro relationship. But kubo made them marry as if it was a rule that childhood friends equals being married to each other. (Maybe that's why i had no friends when i was little)
But w IR, they were complete strangers, then they had to live together, became close slowly and came to know each other. They were close, they trusted each other, they protected each other, helped each other. Just like how a normal relationship should be, they grew closer with time and they developed their chemistry. Yet, with IH, they didn't show any progress in their relationship. It was the same. Their interactions were limited and weren't that memorable (because i honestly didnt care) and it was a repetitive action. Orihime needs helping, ichigo goes to save her, gets sidetracked, almost dies, orihime cries and ressurects him blahblahblah. And dont let me start on how she's scared of him and his full hollow, that's not love if you feel fear. And then with RR after they made up, it was the same as before, they were looking just fine with the relationship they had. Then they got married. What's the story? When did they have feelings for each other? When they were small, it's understandable that they may had a crush on each other. But after growing up and what happened between them? It would honestly be awkward. Both RR and IH weren't given any time to explain why they married each other. Wasn't given anytime to develop their relationship even further and it wasn't shown to us. That's why i believe it's bullshit and they are simply being held at gunpoint by kubo to act along.
IR deserves to be together, Renji can go wreck his captain, and I personally think Orihime deserves to be with Tatsuki.
ALSO IM SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG I JUST WANTED TO RANT ABT BLEACH YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE I COULD THINK OF TO SEND AN ASK AND I DONT HAVE BLEACH FRIENDS ;-;
Anon went off lol
Don't worry for the long ask! I rant all the time lol so I 100% get it.
I agree with many of the things you mentione tbh, aside from some things here and there like Inoue resurrecting him, which she didn't, the hollow would've taken control either way. Or the part where maybe Renjo and Rukia had a crush when they were younger, which I don't believe one bit on Rukia's part because in that case she wouldn't have had feelings for Kaien as soon as she turned around from Renjo now would she?
Renjo said it himself he, Rukia and the other guys were a family. That's also how I think Rukia has always viewed him for the whole time, maybe untill she got adopted and the didn't talk for 40 years. After they mended their relationship thanks to Ichigo, I guess Renjo was more like a friend by that point.
As for IH..eeeh there is lit nothing there lol, no interesting past, no good developed friendship, it's all just so bland. They share lit nothing, somehow tho she keeps being shown alongside Chad, so I guess we should "see" her as another friend. Or the Ichigo cheerleader? Or the people Ichigo has to save? The two people that follow him around? IDK tbh in Chad case there is a mutual understanding, Inoue just insert herself anywhere she could by herself. wanting to do this and that but ending up just being the one to be saved.
Anyway however you look at IH or RR it doesn't change the fact that IchiRuki is and will always be superior in every way. Like you already wrote, we actually got to see them, from the start to the end develop and grow close, without any disastrous s*it like I don't know Rukia being scared of Ichigo, or Ichigo taking Rukia to her execution. You'd think if Kubo didn't get the time to develop IH and RR at least he would've avoided such disastrous content but nope, he gave them that kind of things, while he took the time to give all the good content and development to ichiruki. Makes sense, makes sense, we just have to get where exactly is the sense lol
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Masterpost
Hi and welcome to my whump blog! If you’re not sure what “whump” is, essentially it’s the hurt/comfort story genre with more emphasis on the hurt. Other answers can be found here.
My whump preference is lighter than some; my characters get roughed up and beaten down, but generally not tortured. I’m a big fan of the captivity tropes - e.g. kidnapping & hostage situations (and the emotional whump that goes along with those) with the associated manhandling, restraints, people held at gunpoint, all that great stuff.
I’ve got a few different themes and stories that continue to grow, so here are the main ones:
Longer Works
In the Wind is a 12,000-word OC story that wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it down. Caden Hale is a Memphis bounty hunter who runs into a skip when he’s not expecting to. He has a rotten night.
If that works for you, you can keep going with Wind Shear, which is how Cade deals with the aftermath of In the Wind. (Spoiler: badly.)
Undertow should be read after Wind Shear, since it’s Donnie’s POV of the same time period. Recently finished...I think. It ends in a good place, but there might be an epilogue later.
Whumplets
Longer than drabbles, these whumpy ficlets were inspired by prompts. Some of them can be grouped together, and some are standalone. I’ve organized them into their own little masterposts:
Cadeverse Whumplets – short scenes from Cade’s world
Head Wind Whumplets – Cadeverse AU with an espionage vibe
Other Whump
Selection Process – Nicholas is a doctor whose professional services are firmly requisitioned by a mysterious stranger.
And finally, I have a few standalone whumplets tagged with prompt whumplet or TAT whumplet (inspired by Trope Appreciation Tuesdays).
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i stayed up for 26 hours and wrote some ideas for an rvb season here it is. it’s a s14 they stay on chorus au
-epsilon is recursed and all the fragments are split but theyre shoved back into an orb because i ! miss orbsilon. so it’s basically all the fragments copiloting the orb body with the orb glowing the color of whoever is speaking. ep2ilon is his own dude who is heavily influenced by the fact that all of the fragments were put in caboose’s head immediately after the charon battle because he was the only person with a head empty enough to Handle It so he still has the caboosification which is so important to orbsilon, but he also doesnt view himself as the old epsilon with amnesia but like the steven universe to original epsilon’s rose quartz
-caboose goes through his teen angst phase because epsilon doesnt remember who he is and wont go by church anymore and he backtalks wash like a teenager saying i hate you dad!! while wash is scandalized
-wash in general is just desperately trying to make the blues and the reevbs in general... not morally better people, because he doesn’t know how to do that himself, but more competent and functional adults who don’t have a youtube channel where they review how different metal spoons blow up in the microwave.
-simmons gets tucker’s s16 arc where he goes mad with the power hes gotten from being a war hero but in a disctinctively simmons way where he doesnt like his description given in a newspaper that calls him lanky and describes him as like somehow an overgrown bird was given all the properties of a chihuahua being held at gunpoint so he doxxes the reporter, dylan, on twitter
-the mercs show up at one point because i miss the mercs. in this season anyone i want to bring back from the dead can come back because the philosophy is 100% whatever is funny to me and not thematic coherence with the rest of the show. i still think it would be a better sequel to chorus than shisno
-felix shows up trying to break up grocus because grif has become too friendly with locus and he’s Mad about it and so is Simmons because simmons is an awful freak with many flaws, which is the best part about his character. he like thinks grif is cheating because grif keeps talking about how great locus is but he doesn’t realize that’s because grif is imagining locus’ backstory as like, the ideal Hot Guy riding a motorcycle dean winchester archetype that he thought was the coolest someone could be. this is fueled by locus’ blatant autism which let him adapt to talking like an edgy batman villain for so long because the only person he was friends one ups him by being essentially an edgy joker motivational instagrammer who microdoses LSD to make himself more productive and read somewhere that “macrodosing” was the new hot trend, so he gets tricked into having a horrible trip. so felix is much worse and have allowed locus to put up this act for so long
-aforementioned unbearable narcissist teams up with simmons in order to bring down grif and locus because neither of them have a healthy or normal approach to relationships and think this is an acceptable reaction, and anyone who knows better is too busy doing other shit to notice. they mostly ineffectively try to sow discord between the two but it keeps failing due to both grif and locus’ ambivalence to their respective partner’s antics at this point, along with the fact that locus often just doesnt understand what the fuck felix is talking about. grif just thinks simmons is being neurotic as usual until they pull a tatami galaxy and send the both of them obviously fake letters from the other being rude and trying to get the two of them to fight, but it’s immediately seen through and grif is like, god DAMMIT simmons you’ve been off lately but this is so obvious i actually have to address your weird behavior instead of continuing to let it slide in favor of doing literally anything else
-the literally anything else is grif’s arc with sister where he has to learn that she’s grown up and doesn’t need to be protected from herself as much anymore because hes so used to being her Big Brother, but also she has to learn that he wasnt just being annoying like mom and dad but he was protecting her from real shit that she had no idea about. this isnt funny i just want more grif siblings okay
-locus somehow manages to make himself a dependent of washington and place wash under community service arrest which wash, after being unable to remedy this, forces tucker and caboose to come along with to help Build character or something but it really ends with all of them bitching about how bored they are and pinching each other with the grabbers theyre supposed to be using to clean up litter in symphonia’s long abandoned shopping center so it can start being used again. as people move in bitters can achieve his all time intended character role: snarky store employee at the asexual tech repair store
-they keep matthews in a sealed box in to fix the laptops and make palomo hold everything wearing oven mitts
-the lieutenants were promoted to the same rank as the reevbs because the pelicans got to charons ship extremely quickly and the reevbs’ role in the battle was pretty much the same as the other soldiers in the end, the reevbs just got the cool gear out of it, so now the lieutenants are on the same leeel and want the bgc to admit that they suck and the fednews rule. palomo especially has gotten way too big for his britches and now thinks tucker is lame and hes the new hot shit in town. sarge was very angry about this but kimball isnt easily bullied like doyle was and he couldnt get a promotion above grif and simmons. it really eats away at him so he diverts effort into trying to get new recruits lower on the food chain to join the red army because hes getting empty nest syndrome.
-sarge is also upset that red and blue team both have equal representation by having one seat in the new chorus government, so he demands that chorus recognize a new robot faction run by lopez and FILSS to try to get another red team vote in chorus parliment. church has been tormented by emily grey since shes in charge of rebuilding the new goverment’s infastructure and she registered ep2ilon as 0 years old so he joins the movement. and since FILSS is always loyal to the director lopez actually gets outvoted by the blue team 2-1. sarge is devastated.
-they tried to veto ep2ilon joining the robot union but hes the one in charge of doing calculations for like their supply runs and agriculturral seectors to make sure food doesnt run out (because it turns out that the sangheli were really into redbull, which is disgusting, and thats all they left behind in the temple of bountiful harvest) so he has enough leverage to protest the robophobia in the capital
-doc and donut take pity on how pathetic wash’s attempts to improve the blue team are so they try to get wash to come with them to their open-polyamorous morning routine and juice cleanse which is where you go like a spa or a massage to clear your mind once a week and do yoga and other homoerotic slash homeopathic related shenanigans. donut swears it’s not like, actually gay it’s just like a new high tech way that people who make startups and spend all of their time trying to emulate billionaire’s routines for maximum productivity do now according to a ted talk donut found, and is totally normal, he promises. doc is doing it just because he does all sorts of new age medicine or treatments and donut because he’s working really hard on his pyramid scheme idea startup that everyone keeps telling him is a pyramid scheme but he refuses to admit to. anyways wash says yes and when he gets there during their warm up stretches as he’s helping donut stretch his leg even higher in the air donut says “so... why did you shoot me in the chest wash!” and he instantly realizes this was a bad, bad idea.
-doc also takes carolina to a pottery class because he thought she needed a more active relaxation strategy and it ended with carolina being dragged out of the building by caboose and wash because she smashed clay in the instructor’s hair in a public meltdown. emily grey was the instructor and it was because she had keept making passive aggressively rude suggestions in an overly cheery voice and she just snapped. carolina is forced to go to court ordered therapy but the thing is emily is also the only licensed therapist on chorus because doctors registration paperwork hasnt been overhauled for the new government yet. there are other therapists still operating but none of them are “licensed” yet so wouldnt you know it, it seems like carolina is gonna be seeing emily every week from now on :)
-wash is still trying to strike the balance between blue team leader who barely keeps all of them from cutting their fingers off while cooking and overly regretful overcome with guilt for his past actions so he like, organizes everyones sock and underwear drawers by like size and color because he thinks this is like, a normal Good Deed to show appreciation on the level of doing everyones dishes in the sink instead of something extremely creepy that tucker tells him he needs to stop doing immediately
#long post#journal entry#ive had this in my drafts for a while and i finally got around to cleaning it up#simmons#grif#sister#doc#carolina#donut#grey#wash#tucker#caboose#epsilon#locus#felix#sarge#god so many tags
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Don’t You Answer That Phone
Warnings: Language, violence, drug mentions. and bref mentions of smut.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Word Count 1k-ish
A/N: So I wrote this on Wattpad for a friend and I decided to post it here. It was orginally not a reader-insert so it might be a little weird.
"Jason fucking Todd, where the fuck did you go!?" You stormed into the safe house with her eyes ablaze in search of the idiot you called You boyfriend. You slammed the door shut behind yourself and glared. Jason may be trained by Batman, but so were you and knew for a fact that Jason was there in the safe house and he was hiding from you and for good reason.
"Hey princess, you want to go on patrol with me tonight?" Jason leaned over the couch and rested his head on you shoulder looking at the TV you were concentrating so hard on. Of course, you were watching (your favorite movie), it seemed that that was the only movie you ever watched but Jason found it cute.
"Why? What are you going to do?" you asked, looking over to meet his blue eyes.
"Well, someone has started dealing this new drug and somehow kids are getting a hold of it. I'm going out to see if I can trace down the source and put a stop to it. Of course, I want my partner to join me, I think it would be fun." he explained pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You sat there and watched the movie. "You just want to see my ass in my new suit huh?" you chuckled.
Jason let out a laugh. "That may be part of the reason, but I just want to spend some time with you. Is that a crime?"
"Is that a crime, says the crime lord," you muttered.
Jason chuckled and shook his head. "Is that a yes?"
You turned your head to look at him. "Count me in." Jason grinned and walked to your shared room to get changed with you right behind him. You had turned off the TV and leaned against the door frame as you watched Jason suit up and throw his leather jacket on.
He turned around to see his girlfriend was admiring him. With a raised brow, he lifted your chin to look at him. "What's on your mind princess?" he asked with a grin.
"Nothing much, just how sexy my boyfriend is when he suits up and how much I would love to see him without it." Jason rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your lips.
"After this, I'm all yours to do whatever you please with." he grinned and you then shoved him out of the room.
"Come on, princess. It's nothing I haven't seen." he chuckled.
Shutting the door, you rolled your eyes and went to the closet, pulled out your suit, and began to discard the clothes and slid into your (vigilante name) suit. Pinning your hair back you pulled on the hood and placed your mask on your face.
Jason opened the door and looked at you, his eyes raking over your body. "You ready sweetheart?" he asked.
You turned to look at him with a grin. "Ready, let's go kick some ass."
With the two of you out on the town, the criminals of Gotham were frightened back into their holes. Only the idiots and stupidly brave were out when both Red Hood and (y/v/n) were on the prowl. Red Hood was known to be a little less friendly than Batman if you could consider Batman friendly.
(y/v/n) was even less friendly than Red Hood was, and no one wanted to cross either one of you let alone the both of you together.
Turning out the lights, you and Red Hood slid out of a window of the safe house and took to the rooftops jumping across the alleys and grappling up the tall buildings. "So where are we going, Red?" You said through your com.
"The theater district, that's where the highest concentration of the new drug is so that is where we will start," he answered as you both grappled to the top of the building next to them. Your safe house was in the industrial district of Gotham and that was on the other side of the city. It was going to take a while for you guys to get there.
Once you landed in the theater district, Red Hood and yourself landed with a soft thud as you watched a group of dealers handed out shipments to deal around the city. Grey Arrow watched as the men dispersed.
"You take the left and I take the right?" you asked. Red Hood looked at you and nodded.
"The one who drops the least has to buy dinner." he laughed and jumped off the roof with you right behind him laughing as you both free-fell through the air. Grabbing an arrow, you aimed it and shot one of the men in the foot, keeping him planted to the ground.
Landing with a roll, you kicked him in the head knocking him out. Turning to look at the others nearby you grinned. "Who's next?"
"Shit! It's the fucking Red Hood and (y/v/n)." one of them mumbled. Red Hood and you stood back to back with your weapons prepped with a large grin on both of your faces.
"We caught the attention of them both! We fucking messed up!"
You laughed and aimed an arrow at him. "Yeah, I think you did. Now, tell us who is supplying you with the drugs and who the fuck decided that it was a good idea to deal it to kids?" you demanded.
Red Hood held the others at gunpoint. "I suggest you answer the lady's question, I'm afraid she might be less forgiving than I am when it comes to this and I'm not forgiving at all." he grinned.
The men were silent. It looks like they were going to do this the hard way. Quickly you had shot four arrows at the men and hit them in the thighs making them fall to the floor as you ran over and knocked them out. The sound of gunshots rang across the alley as both you and Red Hood fought side by side.
You had counted up the bodies, and out of the twenty men they had fought, you took out ten of them. Turning, you saw Red Hood shoot a rubber bullet at the final dealer and that made his count ten as well.
It was a tie.
There was a shuffle from the alley and you both turned your heads to see a younger-looking man, no older than the two of them and he was scared. You and Red Hood looked at each other.
"Dibs!" you called at the same time and both of you went after the man who took off down the street. You decided to stick to the streets, as Red Hood took to the rooftops.
"Hood, don't you dare. I called dibs!" you cried, jumping over a dumpster that he threw.
"Sorry babe, I don't like to lose." he chuckled and jumped off the roof and landed beside you.
You frowned and shot a tripwire and Red Hood triggered it as the wire wrapped itself around him, sending him to the floor. With a laugh, you kept following the guy who ran down towards the Gotham Bay Bridge.
You looked ahead and saw that somehow Red Hood was coming up the other side of the bridge towards him, and you could hear his laughter through the comlink as you pursued the man. He looked ahead and saw Red Hood in front of him and you were behind him. Without a second thought, he turned and went towards the edge of the bridge.
He stood at the edge and pulled the gun out of his side, and aimed it at you both. "Stay back or I'll shoot!"
Red Hood looked at this guy with an amused expression "Our suits are bulletproof dumbass." he called.
"You may be, but I'm not." He turned the gun and aimed it at his own head.
"Come on, don't you have someone waiting for you at home? A wife, husband, partner? Possibly kids? You don't seem the guy who would deal drugs for fun." you called, setting her bow down and holding a hand out slowly.
It wasn't a competition anymore on who could catch him, it was about keeping him alive now.
"You don't know what he's like," he muttered.
"Who? What who is like?" you had asked, your voice softening.
"He'll kill me if I say."
"We can get you protection, just give us a name." Red Hood said, taking off his helmet still wearing a domino mask underneath.
The man looked between both of you and slowly lowered the gun. "Sionis, the man I work for is Roman Sionis. I borrowed money because my wife left me with our kids, this is how he wanted me to pay him back."
You took a few more steps closer to him. "We'll get you protection from Black Mask, we have those kinds of connections. You and your kids will be safe. Why don't you come down from the ledge?"
The man nodded slowly and stepped down. You and Red Hood looked at each other. It seemed they needed to pay a visit to Roman Sionis and have a friendly little chat with him.
You listened around the safe house and could hear a faint struggle coming from the bathroom. Throwing your stuff to the floor, you stormed over and threw the bathroom door open. Sat on the floor was Jason with his shirt off as he tried to stitch up his own wounds while wincing in pain.
When the door opened, Jason looked up and gave you a sheepish smile. "Hey gorgeous, what's up?"
"What's up? What's up!? I find out from Bruce that you went and talked to Black Mask without backup, got blown up and all you have to say is 'what's up?'!?" you shouted.
Jason rolled his eyes. "You weren't answering your phone, so I decided to go alone."
"You could have called Dick, or Tim! I didn't know you were calling me until I got my phone back from what's her face. She took it out of my hands the second I arrived." you snapped.
"Well, maybe you need better friends."
"Well, maybe you need to not be so fucking stubborn!"
"Well, maybe you need to keep your phone with you at all times!"
"Well maybe you should stop trying to push me away!" she snapped.
As the two of you yelled at each other, you had stepped closer and stood right in front of each other with both of your chests heaving in anger.
Jason huffed and looked away. "I do not push you away," he muttered crossing his arms.
"Oh, you don't? Then why didn't you come and get me then? I would have rathered go and do this with you than hang out with Jessica." you crossed your arms. The two of you stayed quiet, as you stared him down. The silence was interrupted when Jason's phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Roy.
"I need to take this."
"Don't you fucking answer that phone Jason Peter Todd." your voice was that dangerous tone again, and it had caught Jason's attention. He slowly set his phone down on the bathroom sink, his eyes not leaving your.
"And why not?"
You grabbed his face and pulled him into a feverish kiss. "You can answer it once I'm done with you." Jason's hands went to your hips and pinned you to the wall, Rory letting out a small noise of surprise. You felt your phone ring in your back pocket, and knew that Roy had probably tried calling you as well.
Jason grinned against your lips as he slid a hand lower and pulled your phone out of your pocket and set it aside, before placing his hands on your ass and giving it a squeeze. "Don't you fucking answer that phone (y/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n)," he muttered against your lips.
"And why not?" you grinned softly, copying his words from earlier.
"You can answer it when I'm done with you." he grinned and lifted you up and carried you to your shared room.
A while later Roy was stood outside the safe house with his arms crossed. Both you and Jason were ignoring his calls and he wanted to know why. He had spent fifteen minutes knocking before he gave up and just opened the door.
As he walked in, he saw your things on the floor and saw the bathroom door open. Peeking in, he saw that both of your phones were on the sink but where were you? Roy heard noises coming from behind the closed bedroom door, what were the chances that you were arguing again?
With a groan, Roy opened the door and saw that you and Jason were in fact not arguing.
#Costly Affairs#Jason Todd#red hood#BatFam#jason todd fanfiction#batman#jason todd fic#the outlaws#gotham#robin#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x reader insert#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood fic#red hood fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood x reader insert#red hood x you#red hood x y/n
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So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)
Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:
Moonstruck:
This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.
When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion.
Anyway.
This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered, was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.
I thought, "What a load of bullshit."
A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.
A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."
When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it.
I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it."
Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got.
"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"
"Sure!"
"Mom, can I have a car?"
"No problem!"
"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"
"Absolutely!"
She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it.
At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.
But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat.
My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes.
I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not.
I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled.
It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway.
I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.
I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."
But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you?
Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late!
#child abuse#abuse#domestic abuse#family#survivor#YouTube#bojack horseman#forgive#mom#mother#friend#friends#story#personal#chicken soup for the soul#free churro#monolouge#father#dad
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