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issaxcharlie · 3 years

Text

Ghost Of You 2/2

Pairing: Ghost! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke, Reggie and Alex have to assimilate their loss. For Luke of his girlfriend, and for the others of their best friend after suddenly learning that she didn’t have the future they imagined, and instead died 23 years ago.

Thank you to @cookiebuba for being the head of the entire idea and trusting me with it, and to Emy for almost holding my hand to force me to write🤣💜

PART 1 HERE

“It can’t be.”

“Luke, I-”

"No, Julie. You are not telling me that the woman of my life, the purest person who has ever stepped on this world, not only lost her partner and her best friends, but was only able to live her life for two more years and then ended in a horrible accident. It's as if life wanted to torture her before taking her too.”

“Love of ?... Zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away. Of course.”

“I- It can’t be true, please tell me it’s not true, Julie.”

“Luke... she loved you so much.”

He falls on the floor. The impact is strong, as if his legs have stopped working.

"I know." He whispers slowly, his gaze empty as multiple tears fall from his eyes.

The rest of the gang threw themselves to the ground around him and hugged him with all their might, trying to unite his broken pieces without any success. Alex and Reggie each crying silently over the loss of their sweet friend.

“What day did she pass away? Alex whispers.

"Let me search, one moment." Julie gets up quickly and checks on her laptop to find a little note about the singer's death.

"The rising singer Y/N Y/L who had just released the biggest hit of her career passed away this afternoon in a terrible car accident after leaving the cemetery where her late boyfriend, Luke Patterson, was buried. Y/L was there in commemoration of the 2 years of the loss of the aspiring musician, who died from a sudden tragic intoxication along with the rest of his band. Something to rescue from this tragedy is that at least she's already reunited with her eternal love. May both rest in peace.”

“This can’t be. My Y/N can’t be gone. Not her, not like that.” Luke is still in denial, unable to believe that his little girl suffered such a terrible ending.

“Maybe she’s not. There's still a chance that she's also a ghost.”

“Yeah, Julie’s right. We need to look out for her, we can't write her off without trying to find her first.” Reggie's eyes sparkle with hope, rushing to cover Alex's mouth in case he says anything other than motivating.

Luke takes his flannel and disappears immediately. Both Reggie and Alex stare sadly at Julie who simply whispers a "go, he needs you." They nod and teleport to their friend.

As expected, Luke is in front of the window of an old music store. He met his girlfriend here so many years ago, the day his parents agreed to buy him his first guitar.

The store had a small section where customers could try out some instruments and she was playing the guitar they had there and singing for the small audience. It seemed like it was something she did often because both the workers and certain customers seemed familiar with the girl.

Luke was captivated by her from the first moment. The energy and passion that radiated from her in every move was unreal. He had never seen anyone happier, much less singing with a borrowed guitar from a small downtown store.

The store is completely abandoned, so without saying anything he comes in and walks towards the small stage.

The ghosts of two 12-year-old kids singing together into the microphone invades his memory. If they only knew.

"Do you remember what was the first thing she said to you?" Reggie and Alex sit next to him on the floor, looking straight at the very small stage. They both try to imagine what their friends must have looked like singing here together the first time. Luke totally invading little Y/N's presentation trying to captivate her with his 0% music experience and 100% of enthusiasm.

Luke laughs through tears. "You have the voice of a country singer."

Alex starts crying when he imagines her. He met her just a few weeks later so he knows exactly how she must have looked and sound.

Reggie smiles while shedding a tear, remembering all those afternoons Y/N convinced Luke to join them in their country sessions. He knows that's why Luke hasn't wanted to know anything about country or his songs since they got back. They remind him of his sweet girl.

“I was so offended. I still didn't know anything about music but I had already decided that I would be a rocker. If I hadn't already been so dazzled by her I would have left without looking back.”

“And what did you answer to defend your honor?”

"You think so?" The three of them start laughing while still crying. A heartbreaking mix of pain comes from their chests.

“C’mon guys, next stop.”

The three of them were teletransporting around the city during the day without any success. Luke's desperation increasing for every place the songwriter wasn't.

At night the three decide to go back to the studio. Luke is heartbroken, bloated after crying all day, eyes red and sore, and whatever it was that was driving him to continue, off.

His friends couldn't do much for him either because each was living the loss in their own way, concentrating on living their own pain until they could process it.

Julie wraps them in blankets on the couch and tries to fill them with love, making sure to hug Luke tightly, who seems about to fall apart.

“Does anyone want to talk about her? Maybe it could make you feel better.”

“She was my entire soul, the words and melody in each of my songs. I just, I love her more than anything in this world. I would give anything for her. My guitar, my voice, my songs, whatever it took for us to be together. I know it doesn't seem like it at this point, but we belong together.”

“We know you do, man.”

“I didn't tell you but I dream about her almost every night since we got back. It is always the same dream. She is in bed, leaving my side intact. She's wearing one of my shirts and hugging my favorite one while sobbing. She falls asleep listening to the ballad I wrote for her soaked in tears and no matter how hard I try to wake her up, I can't get her to see or hear me. I can’t get her. After a few minutes she gets up still asleep and begins to dance as we did so many times, but alone. Then she stops and starts crying again inconsolably. And that's when I wake up."

"I'm so sorry, Luke. She deserved so much more." Reggie walks over to hug him, his head resting on his arm while he sobs.

“We couldn't even say goodbye to her.” Alex cries, his eyes completely red.

“We already know that she visited your graves, perhaps we could do the same, dedicate a few words to her.” Julie offers in an attempt to help them find some peace.

Luke looks devastated, but he nods his head as tears continue to fall from his face, the ring that his girlfriend gave him going in and out of his finger. Alex hugs Julie while she strokes his hair in an effort to calm him down and Reggie runs up to get a notebook and pencil to start planning what to say to his best friend tomorrow.

The three of them hang around all night, crying, writing, hugging, remembering the spark of Sunset Curve. In the morning before going to visit her, they realize is exactly the 25th anniversary of that tragic night that changed the lives of the four forever. Luke nearly punches a hole in the wall upon hearing the sad coincidence.

Her grave is right next to Luke's, who has never been here before and can't help but feel a bit anxious.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start.” Reggie tells the guitarist as he takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips.

"Hello, princess. Long time, huh? I'm Reggie, by the way. In case you don't recognize me from the slight change in my hair. I am trying a little more gel, I want something more elegant and classic. What do you think? Yes, I also thought you would like it.” Julie and Alex smile at hearing him talk to her as natural as possible.

“I tried very hard to think of what to say, because if there is anyone who deserves my best words, it is you. And three things came to mind that I want to share with you.

First, the color yellow.

Yellow like the guitar you were saving for two years to buy. You did everything. You were a babysitter, you walked dogs, you worked in the school library, you sang with your old acoustic guitar in every cafe, basically everything that will let you win some money.

And the day before you could finally go buy it, my dad broke my bass in a moment of anger in one of his typical fights with mom that got really out of hand. At least he didn’t hurt her, huh? But when you're a kid you don't even think about the possibility that something like that could happen, you just focus on the broken instrument in your hand. I ran out and ended up on the stairs of your house with my face soaked and one of the broken pieces in my hand.

You hugged me and promised that everything would be fine. That I was always going to have you four and that we would always be family. You assured me that good things happen to good people. And I believed you, you know? You were always right. But now that I'm here, that I know you didn't have the happy ending you deserved, I'm honestly not so sure anymore.”

Luke and Alex start crying again, each hugging Reggie from one side. Reg tries with all his might to continue through the tears, while Julie looks at them with a broken heart.

“The next day when I came back from school a new bass was on my bed. You talked to Mom so she could take the credit for the gift, but coincidentally was exactly the bass that I fell in love with a year earlier when we went to check if your beloved yellow guitar hadn't dropped in price. Luke revealed to me a few months later that you had to borrow money from your mom in order to complete the exact money for that one.

How generous do you have to be in order to do something like that? how noble? How loving? How selfless? You were always more than I deserved. I was supposed to be like an older brother for you, but it was always you who took care of me. I have Julie and Carlos, and I'm trying to be with them as you were with me. I had the best step sister in the world to teach me, and I hope I can do you justice.” Julie starts crying too after hearing his words, and resists the urge to going to hug him because she knows that they need their space to let go all the suffering that they carry.

“Second, my leather jacket.

When we started the band we made a 100% commitment to being rockstars. And a very important part is the look. You accompanied me on a walk around the city looking for the right outfit to literally go sing to the people who were lining up in front of the clubs.

Anyone could have left me alone on that for multiple reasons, not even these two wanted to face the trouble. But you followed me without thinking twice.

The afternoon was over and we still haven't found anything. Our feet couldn't take it anymore and we had 10 minutes to run to the club. But we stopped by a little store that had a black leather jacket in the window and you said, Reg, this is it.

You excitedly took me by the hand and when I tried it on, the rest was history.

Then I tried to get the whole band to use them but these two boys without fashion sense didn’t want to. You, on the other hand, supported me and wore your leather jacket during all the Sunset Curve performances we had, convincing me that they were our good luck charms and that if we both used them everything would be amazing. Oh god, I miss you so much.

And third, a star.

I thought you were a star when I heard you sing for the first time.

I thought you were a star when you and Luke managed to write the whole Sunset Curve album in 2 months.

I thought you were a star when you bought me my bass, when you made Alex feel better after one of his strongest attacks, when you filled Luke with love and support when he needed it the most.

And I believe it now that I know you are gone.

If you are in heaven, you have to be a star. And not just a star, the brightest star of all. I promise to look for your light every night to wish you sweet dreams. I will also sing you some country since you were the only one who appreciated my incredible sound, I hope it makes you smile.”

“That was beautiful, Reggie. I’m sure she loved it.” Julie finally reaches out to hug him as Alex prepares to be next.

“Hey. I don’t even know where to start.

I- I guess I should start saying I could never pay you all the times you were there to pick me up when I needed someone the most. I went back to dancing a little again. It's not the same without you, but somehow it makes me feel you close. I also met someone, oh Y/N, he’s so special, I'm sure you would have loved him and I would have loved the opportunity to introduce him to you. You were always there.

You were there to support me when I decided to learn drums to cope with my anxiety. You sang the song I was practicing over and over to keep me company and reassure me that what I was doing sounded good.

You were there to support me when I told you I like to dance. We spent hours choreographing different iconic songs and just laughing and enjoying creating more memories together.

Not shocking at this point but you were also there for me when I confessed to my parents I’m gay and you gave me strength all those times that I wanted to fall because they no longer saw me the same way.

You were always my safe place. And I regret with all my heart that I couldn’t be yours.”

Alex breaks down. She kept them on their feet during her darkest days and they paid her off by causing her the most horrible pain imaginable. Julie and Reggie surround her in their arms while sobbing. The last one of the band standing moves closer to the grave and drops to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so fucking sorry.” Luke tries to be strong, but tears start falling like waterfalls from his eyes, his face red in a mixture of despair, sadness and anger.

“I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone. Baby, I've been without you for only 1 month and I’m going crazy, even with the boys and Julie by my side. I don't even want to imagine what you must have been through those two years. My soul is shattered just thinking about it.

At first when we returned I imagined you were happy after having fulfilled all our plans with someone else. And I thought nothing could hurt me more than that, but obviously I was wrong. Because although it hurt me that I couldn’t be the one who was with you, thinking that you had been happy gave me the peace to be able to continue. Now that I know that life took away your opportunity, the only thing I feel is anger.

Anger towards me, anger towards destiny. Anger at not being able to be together even after death. Since we discovered where you are, I have only been able to think of cross over and finally be with you again.

Or at least go back to the night before everything turned into a nightmare. Fall asleep with you in my arms one more time.

I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss, as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“Hello again, my love.

I can't believe 25 years have passed. First of all, I want you to know that I'm okay. Or well, the equivalent for ghosts that are destined to haunt the earth alone for all eternity. I made a friend for several years, Rose. I told you about her, remember? I know you guys would have been good friends, she was a ridiculously talented musician. Since she died I no longer had the strength to go back to the studio, but for a long time I enjoyed her company in one of my favorite places. She promised to tell you that I'm waiting for you. I will wait whatever time is necessary, okay? I love you so much, baby.

You three are always on my mind, and I think I can finally accept that the pain is just never going to go away. But lately something super strange has happened to me, let me tell you.

Throughout these years, in the darkest days, I see you. But, they were always memories.

A month ago, I started to see you having other kinds of experiences and I honestly don't know how to feel about it. Am I going that crazy? I selfishly hoped that you too were ghosts for so many years. I looked for you 5, 10, 15, 20 years. And just as I decide to give up, my head imagines you all over the city.

The first time I saw you singing Reggie's jam on the beach. You guys looked so happy, love. It filled my heart with peace for a few seconds, knowing that somewhere up there you are enjoying life singing together all day.

Then I saw my beloved Alex with a cute boy. My heart melted, I can’t even explain how much I wanted to run to hug him and gossip about it.

Baby, he looked so peaceful. I always wanted that for Alex. I didn't know whether to be happy or cry because that didn’t actually happen, so I did both.

The penultimate time was a few nights ago when I was walking in front of the Orpheum and I heard your voices. How wicked my mind is, right? A knife to the heart would hurt less.

And now, I can't even get close to your grave because I'm imagining you all again.”

Y/N doesn't know what to do, if she gets close enough will they disappear? What If they don’t? Will she bear to see them up close? She has been dancing with their ghosts in her dreams for so many years, but It’s not the same as doing it when she is fully awake.

She is about to run out of there in fear when the silhouette of a fourth person catches her attention. She doesn't know why, but it immediately reminds her of Rose. Could it be that she is imagining her friend too?

Curiosity is stronger than fear, like all those times when she got into trouble with her boys. She walks carefully towards her grave which is next to her beloved Luke.

“I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“I don't freaking snore, I told you a million times already... and now I'm talking with my imagination, great.”

The band turns in shock towards the fifth voice. That's when she can see the girl's face and realize who she is.

“Julie? But, how?”

“Y/N?” Alex whispers on the verge of passing out.

She starts to panic, just before the boys can do something about it, a new person appears behind her.

“Hey, you took a long time." She turns around and jumps into the arms of who has become her only friend in recent years.

“Phoenix, thank god.” Her body continues to shake but she clings tightly to her friend while crying uncontrollably.

To say the ghosts are confused would be an understatement. And apart from that, the guitarist is having many conflicts with the jealousy that he is feeling at the moment. They haven't seen each other in 25 years and when they finally do, she runs into someone else's arms and clings to him like her life depends on it.

What does that mean for them? Is it too late?

“Beautiful, what's wrong? Who are they? Oh, wait. You guys were at the club a few weeks ago, you're friends with Willie, right?”

Luke feels like dying all over again hearing him call her that. She continues to shake but finally lets go.

“What? You can see them?”

“Shouldn’t I?” He looks at her skeptical and shifts his eyes from her to the ghosts.

“I- Oh my god. I'm going to pass out.“

“Baby, look at me.” Luke’s voice is a mix between a plea and a demand. The terror of knowing that perhaps he has already lost her without having had the opportunity to fight for her clouds his judgment and tears begin to fall from his face again.

25 years. 25 years fighting not to forget his voice. 25 years having him only in dreams, in memories, in melodies. 25 years waiting for him. 25 years on her own.

She turns slowly to meet those honey-green eyes she craved for so long to see, a painful smile from Luke makes her smile through tears.

She carefully lifts her right hand and gently draws it to his cheek, almost exploding at the feel of it.

“You came back. Oh my, It’s really you.” She jumps to the guitarist, entwining her legs at his hips, her arms tangled with all her strength around him, her head buried in his neck inhaling his scent. Tears coming out as if to drown her, all the pain and suffering that she faced all these years finally leaving her body.

Luke wraps her tightly in his arms, still unable to process what’s happening.

Alex and Reggie begin to smile without fully assimilating what is happening, while Julie begins to jump of joy.

“Babygirl, I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I have to rush to the club. Will you be okay here?"

“She's always safe with me." The guitarist growls, and Y/N starts laughing when she hears it.

"The jealous, protective baby in the beanie is right, don't worry Nix. I’ll go and find you later."

Phoenix nods with a smile and disappears. Julie begins to scold Luke while Reggie and Alex approach to touch the cheek of their best friend, still in the arms of the guitarist who does not seem to have any intention of letting go.

“We should go home to catch up. Reggie and I will accompany Julie, it seems that you two should speak alone first." Luke doesn't think twice and disappears with her in his arms.

“Good things happen to good people.” Reggie whispers as he hugs his friends and they start walking home.

Luke and Y/N reappear in the studio and they are both shocked for a few seconds. The girl trembles again in fear of dreaming.

“Hey, come here baby. Shh, I’m here, I promise.”

“Don’t leave me ever again, please.” He can see that it is very difficult for her to understand that is really happening, and to think that she lived without him not 2 but 25 years makes him want to cry again.

“I won’t. I promise, beautiful. Never again.” Luke wraps her in his arms, but she lifts her head from his chest to push her lips against his. The kiss is urgent, but they both instantly recognize each other and fit in perfectly. Luke picks her up again and gently lays her down on the couch, both desperate to feel the other, to recognize every inch.

“I missed you so much baby, I love you more than anything.” Luke whispers between kisses, not willing to have her an inch away from him.

“I love you my love. I love you, I love you, I love you.” She says while kissing the love of her life, happy for the first time in 25 years.

Before things get to escalate, the rest of the band shows up in the studio followed by Julie who clearly walks through the door.

"Let go of her man, it's our turn!" Y/N gets up quickly from the sofa while her boyfriend complains and she throws herself at both of them who pick her up as best they can and spin her in the air.

They put her down and Julie and her stare each other, both raise their arms and meet in a quick but sweet hug.

“You said my name back there, how?” The question that she has stuck since she met her finally coming to light.

“I met your mom many years ago when I came to visit the studio and realized that she could see me. We were friends for many years and I had the opportunity to see you grow up, but I always made sure to be upstairs when you came in in case you could see me too.”

“Well, now I understand how Carlos felt when he found out that we lived with ghosts. And It sounds like mom watches over us both from heaven.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Both girls smile and hug each other once more.

“I can't believe I endured 25 years without having those beautiful arms around me.” She whispers as they both lie on the couch, Luke has her completely cornered in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It breaks my heart that you have suffered that much for so many years.”

“It was not your fault. You lost as much as I did that night. Besides, I always knew that you would find me sooner or later. We belong together.”

“We do. I, I k-know we have way more to talk about but, who was the dude from the cementery?”

The insecurity in his voice is evident and Y/N can't help but smile. His emotions are complex, real, and nothing can make her happier than that.

“I’ll tell you all about my friend later, okay? For now... dance with me? I want to dance with the real deal.” He smiles and they both stand up, hugging each other as they slowly move through the studio as they did many times before life separated them.

The Luke in her arms is her Luke, the same one she has been waiting for so many years, finally back in her arms. And just as she thought when she lived, she will dance with his ghost for all eternity.

Thank you for reading✨✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @tessxblxckthorn

Goy tags: @eternalharry @xplrreylo

#luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfic #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson fic #jatp imagine #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp luke

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redjaybathood · 2 years

Note

I am begging for continuation for the one-shot where jason comus back late and meets duke.

(Seriously i'd give my left kidney)

I heard this sentiment expressed before and honestly, mood, but I'm not sure 'm the right person for that.

I'm the guy who creates problems, not the one who solves them. My approach to writing is: wouldn't it be fucked up if... The answer is: yes, it would, and here's how. I used to offer people send me their headcanons and I will make all of them sad. I've done it too, even something as innocuous as Jason and Cassandra's respective height.

So I guess what you and others are looking for, is: what's been in the messages? And what's next?

Well, I still have no idea what's in the messages except a total meltdown. And what's next is Jason tries to disappear in Gotham.

You know how it is. You go home after being miraculously resurrected ten years after you died. You find out that your family moved on. They look happy, the whole bunch of them on a family portrait. Jason has never been on a family portrait. Not a painted and hanged in the living room one, at least. Didn't quite make it.

Duke is a good dude, the thing is. Jason doesn't think he would have handled the things with as much grace as he did if the situation was reversed. And he seems to get along with others, so Jason assumes they're good people as well.

But where does it leave Jason? Should he – should he have stayed? So what if his dad moved on. After his mom died, didn't Jason move on? To Bruce? He didn't say, he loved Catherine so much, he will remain an orphan in her memory forever.

No, he chose to stay with Bruce. And then left to look for Sheila. Anything to fill this hole inside. Were those kids just filling a hole for Bruce? Is that why so many, because they weren't enough – wasn’t Jason?

Or was Jason just a filler as well?

Does it matter? He left Manor a week before he died. That he met Bruce in Africa was a coincidence. Joker was nearby. If Joker wasn't there, neither would be Bruce.

And he wouldn't have been betrayed by Sheila – at least, in that fashion. Maybe Jason just isn't someone who inspires long-term parenting effort. Jason wishes good luck to Duke and the others.

And he, well, has to make his own way. Like always. Just like he planned when he left.

What exactly was he thinking? It's hard to remember even if it was a week ago in Jason's perception. He had gone to where it started, to Park Row. But this, now, is a bad choice. If Bruce starts looking for him, that's the first place he will check. And he will: if nothing else, people don't just raise from the graves. He might think Jason is a vampire, or a robot, or an evil clone – a threat. If Jason can't explain how he was brought back, he will forever remain a liability to him. That's just how Batman works.

Or, if Bruce doesn’t start looking... Jason prefers not to know that.

So instead of Park Row, he goes for the Hills. They've been doing good, those years Jason missed. The neighborhood feels shiny-clean. There are more trees than he is used to seeing in Gotham, small businesses thrive, from the looks of it. If gangs are still around, they've evolved too. There are no tags anywhere, and passersby aren't wearing any particular color.

His understanding of the city and how it functions is seriously outdated. He can't even think about patrolling by himself for the foreseeable future. Though maybe he doesn't have to? It feels safe.

Maybe, a stray, dangerous thought creeps upon him; maybe his death was what changed things because he doesn't know anything else that could.

He needs someone he trusts to bring him up to speed. He needs... a friend.

With how unfamiliar things are, it's even worse when Jason finds similarities. The diner is at the same place as when he's been washing dishes here for the leftovers. But it's been renovated. It looks retro instead of old, and Jason's sneakers don't stick to the floor. A robot is washing the floor. A robot.

The position of the seats didn't change, but in the section where Gabbie used to wait, a girl with red hair takes orders instead. Her sides are shaved off; it looks so cool Jason stand staring at her for several moments.

"Can I help you?"

Jason shakes his head before he can think. It's the changes: they cemented the realization that he really was gone those ten years, but the city stayed, and evolved. It makes him feel off-kilter, and he's fumbling for words.

“Is – is Gabbie here? She used to work here, I don’t know if she's still around.”

He doesn't hold out much hope, because, well, what are the chances? Besides, if she moved on to a better place, maybe a restaurant uptown where people like Bruce could tip you more than you make per shift, that would be a good thing.

Even if Jason doesn't know where else to go.

The girl – her badge reads 'Sasha' – looks him up and down with suspicion, which, seems like Gotham didn't change that much.

"She's going to be here in the evening," Sasha says.

"I'll be back before closing. Tell her... Tell her it's Jason."

The girl's eyes follow him to the exit. When Jason looks back, he sees her texting, presumably to Gabbie.

With still some hours to kill, Jason goes to the library. Computers now need a card to log in, and he swipes one from a girl who's napping on a coach. He will return it if she's still there when he's done. If not, he will leave it at Lost & Found.

He doesn't want to set off any alarms by googling his name, Bruce, or Joker. He reads the latest news: wow, the global ecology is worse than ever. Maybe Ra's is onto something, but it’s funny how he does nothing to really address the issue. As far as Jason remembers, only Poison Ivy did, but not in a way that's survivable by humans. So he's not exactly a fan.

Among other things, Jason was just lucky enough not to live through Luthor’s presidency. He wonders if he can vote now. Based on his birth certificate, he's old enough. He could have run for City Council if anyone would believe he's 25.

He switches to local news. And what do you think? An election was coming up. And... That is his friend Max right here, in the running. Jason closes the tab, suddenly shivering.

When opens the search bar again. It's a good thing, he tells himself. Don't make it weird. Jason writes down the address of his office – Max is a lawyer now, just like he always wanted. And this makes Jason check out the other names he still remembers.

Chris – no hits except social media, but most of the pages have privacy settings, and he can't figure out if it's him or not on half of the profiles because of low-resolution photos and last seeing him about 13 years ago, chronologically.

He can't find Numbers, by his full name or nickname. He probably left Gotham – always wanted to. Jason tables it for now.

Dana has a page on LinkedIn. LinkedIn is still around. Jason doesn’t know what’s more surprising. And depressing. No, he corrects himself, it’s good. It’s great. She graduated and seems to have a great career in marketing? PR? Something like that. And apparently it paid good enough for her to retire early.

Her sister, Denise Harlow, is now a local news star. Jason clicks and watches a short report on – you won’t believe it – a footwear fashion line inspired by various Gotham villains. Ugh. Next.

Eddie Bloomberg. That gets results, and pretty quick.

"Seeking relief from PTSD-type symptoms, superheroes have been seeking psychological help in a secret facility located in the upper Midwest... The daily Planet has obtained... These videos reveal a world long hidden..."

Jason doesn't watch his tape. He can't. Nobody should have – how could Lois even?.. Who did this, is that the same guy who killed them? Was he caught? And... Yes, apparently. If you believe the linked "If you liked it, check out..." article. The name of the killer is not mentioned. A part of his deal with State. Confessed and everything. Got put in Belle Reeve. Broke out from there, because of course he had.

For all the things that changed in Gotham, some things are the same in the world.

He breaks away from the computer. Leaves the card back with the girl. The next part of the research could be done through the classifieds in the paper.

The second part of the research is finding shady listings for room to rent, or jobs with housing – he thinks he can get better chances with construction. Something is always being built in Gotham because something always is destroyed in Gotham. And a lot of foremen won't take an issue with paying someone under the table. Though would they be willing with Jason looking the way he is – he is strong, can bench press his weight, but he doesn't look like it.

He marks the ones that look promising. He has no way to call if he doesn't want to go back to the Manor, see if there are any things like his old cell in storage. Anyway, his sim card probably expired.

He has no way to get a new one until after he finds a job and does the job until payday.

He goes back to the diner – it's maybe three hours until the closing time. He doesn't see Gabbie in there, but his new friend Sasha is behind the counter now. The tiny speakers croon as he goes near: "Beliye rosy, beliye rosy...".

"Okay," he says instead of hello, sitting down. "I know I've been out of town for a while but is the Russian mafia running the Hills now?"

"Do you really think they would listen to an early nineties Justin Bieber equivalent?"

"Uh, I think you meant Justin Timberlake."

Sasha looks at him wrong – like he is wrong.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't."

She gets distracted by a real paying customer, but when the peach pie/money exchange is done, she shows him the video on her smartphone.

"I mean," Jason tries to come up with words. "He seems nice."

"Sure," Sasha snorts. "If you like that kind of thing."

"But you like early nineties Russian pop?"

"I grew up on that shit. My mom..."

Sasha closes off, and Jason feels a pang.

"Sorry."

Gabbie has great timing. She comes in exactly when the pause becomes awkward.

"You know," she says after hanging her jacket. "When Sasha said a Jason is looking for me, you weren't my first guess."

"I guess it's been a while," Jason says, rubbing his neck.

"Then she described that Jason, and still. You weren't even in the top five."

"Come on! I haven't changed that much."

"No, you haven't changed at all. Smoking stunted your growth?"

"Haven't been eating my greens."

She hugs him and Jason freezes. She quickly lets him go and looks him over again like she can’t quite believe she’s seeing him.

"It's good to see you, Jason."

"Yeah. Me too. How have you been?"

"Still at the diner. But now, I am the manager."

"Congratulations! And here I was, thinking of how to convince you to talk to your boss. About me maybe having a job here? The old deal. I do everything you ask me..."

"And I'm feeding you and don't ask questions. But you can apply normally now. Get paid with actual money and everything."

"Uh. I don't exactly have an ID. Or... Any documents. Or a school degree."

"Ok, watch me not ask you questions but now I really, really want to. Ok, when do you wish to start?"

"Sometimes before dinner."

Gabbie sighs and ruffles his hair.

“Okay, let’s get some food in you, and then we’ll talk.”

When the food is ready and Sasha brings it out, it’s about the time for closing. Gabbie waves Sasha away, saying she will close up herself.

“This one will help me clean up, don’t worry,” she says, hooking her thumb at Jason.

Sasha nods, but when she is near the doors, she calls Gabbie again.

“Text me later, when you’re done,” she says. “I want to go over the schedule if there are changes.”

She looks at Jason when she’s saying it, and Jason gets it. It’s not really the shifts that are a concern to her, more like Jason himself. He guesses she’s been in Gotham long enough.

“So,” Gabbie says to Jason when they’re finally alone. “What the hell?”

“Well,” Jason stops chewing for a moment. “Rumors of my death…”

Gabbie points a finger in his face. But whatever criticism she had regarding Jason’s sense of humor, she stops short when the doorbell over the entrance rings.

“Jason,” Bruce says.

Jason puts down his burger. Wipes his fingers off. Grips the table.

He doesn’t turn around, not yet.

“Jason, is that really you?”

Gabbie stands up, placing one hand on the table, closer to the cutlery.

“Mr. Wayne,” she says in a warning.

“Jason.”

“It’s okay,” Jason places his hand over Gabbie’s, briefly.

She looks ready to fight the local billionaire/crime-fighting legend, and it warms Jason much better than this freshly cooked dinner.

Or maybe it’s the voice – the desperation, the sheer need for it to be real, that he hears from Bruce when he calls Jason’s name. He remembers it. He didn’t forget him. He went looking. He cares.

Jason says, “Dad,” slowly turning around, but he doesn’t even have time to look up before he is engulfed in a hug.

“Don’t,” Bruce says, chocked, when Jason tries to put some distance just to breathe. “Don’t run away ever again.”

Jason is aware that he’s crying. That’s basically the main reason why he stops struggling and hugs Bruce back.

“So,” Gabbie says slowly. “Do you still need that job?”

“No,” Bruce says. “I will take it from here.”

“Yeah,” Jason says. “I do.”

It will take too long to explain, and with Gabbie here, talking about everything could be awkward.

Jason wipes his tears on Bruce’s shirt and half-frees himself out of the clutches, enough to look at Gabbie over his shoulder.

“Can you give me your phone number?”

“Sure,” Gabbie grabs a napkin and a pen out of her pocket.

She scribbles fast on it and looks at Bruce for a second before giving the napkin to Jason.

Bruce makes an abrupt motion like he wants to take it instead.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says instead, half-order and half asking for reassurance.

Jason punches him lightly in the shoulder instead of answering.

“Text me tonight,” Gabbie says. “You still owe me some explanations.”

Jason nods, before basically dragging Bruce out. He notices Bruce glaring at Gabbie and her glaring back.

“Okay,” he says when they’re finally out on the street. “Where did you park?”

“Where did I - Jason,” Bruce takes his hand and plants himself in the middle of a sidewalk. “You just - how are you back? When?.. Why didn’t you stay, or told Duke, or called…”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Listen. Listen. I know this looks bad. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight yet. This is wierd for me. And mildly traumatic. I never thought I’m going to live through - you know. And I guess I didn’t? And when bam, I’m back but also, in a mortal peril still. I thought I was going to suffocate! I thought it was one of his schemes!”

“Jason. Are you – the grave, it’s been disturbed. Did you… dig yourself out today?”

“Well. What did you think happened? It’s not like someone just could have dug me out and dunked me in your father-in-law’s magical fountain of youth. Come on, let’s talk about it in the car.”

He drags Bruce, he doesn’t even care where he’s parked anymore, but they can’t just stand in the middle of the sidewalk and talk about coming back from dead. No need for zombie panic on this nice evening.

“You’re coming home?” Bruce asks.

Doofus. Of course, Jason is coming home.

“No,” he rolls his eyes. “I want to go clubbing. I’m sure you won’t cramp my style too much, and you’re paying for the drinks.”

“No, I won’t.” Bruce turns him around and they finally, finally, go to where the car is.

“I am twenty-five, you know,” Jason mumbles.

“I know. I bought a present for each birthday and hid them all in your room.”

Jason swallows. That’s.

Thank god someone attacks, and he doesn’t need to react to this disturbing yet flattering statement.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #asks #my writing

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

rain clouds

pairing: maxwell lord / reader

word count: 2813

summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning

a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see

warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy

maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.

there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.

“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.

maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.

you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.

to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”

you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?

your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…

but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.

but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.

after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.

back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?

he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.

alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.

and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.

it wasn't intentional — not quite.

you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.

it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.

if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.

three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?

“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.

maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.

it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.

once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.

he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.

max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.

but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.

as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.

“excuse me, did you need something?”

your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.

“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.

this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”

maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.

you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”

max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.

you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.

“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.

max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…

a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”

“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“

“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”

you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.

what would you say when you found out he had a son?

before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?

“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”

alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.

here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”

feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.

maxwell lord taglist & others: @phoenixhalliwell @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @captainrexstan @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @senator-nahberries @max--phillips @jedi-mando @veracruz-djarin @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @iv7867 @kaermorons @princess76179 @pedropasscals

#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord reader insert #maxwell lord imagines #emotional support capitalist #maxwell lord #pedro pascal #i’m soft #i’m not sure what this is but i hope y’all like it #ww84

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paradoxolotl · 3 years

Note

Are there any quotes or moments from any of your fics that you've had to leave out of the final product? Like, deleted scenes. If so, do you feel like sharing?...(Particularly Inked Truths because I'm obsessed with it. I fell in love with BoM, read it multiple times. When I found out you were doing a prequel I was very excited and have not been disappointed since.) (I also love TftR but it makes sad.)...Absolutely no pressure. If you don't want to answer please just ignore this, I'll understand.

Truths for the Roof didn’t lose anything but Inked lost a bit. Really, it was just redone to flow better and fit the characterization better, or moved somewhere later on in the series. I’m more likely to add then take away. It’s pretty rare I scrap something completely, and usually find somewhere else to put it, even if it’s a different fic. But originally BOM was very different. Andrew was medicated and Aaron knew Neil Josten from class.

Here’s a scene that was reworked in Ink Blotted Memories ~

Aaron did his best to avoid Andrew after that. He made himself busy at work, hauling dishes back and forth and hanging out with the bouncers on his breaks. When they were home Andrew was usually shut up in his room or outside smoking which made avoiding him all the easier, giving Aaron space to dick around on the TV or be in his room. Nicky still tried to involve both of them in stupid bonding activities like family dinners and movie nights. When they did happen, it was tense and uncomfortable, mostly filled with Nicky’s inane chatter. Aaron purposely did not look at his brother on these nights. He was torn between wanting Andrew’s acknowledgment and wishing he had never found out about him.

He marked his days with video games and his nights with alcohol and cracker dust, counting the days until he could once again use school as a distraction.

And the entire original Brother of Mine, which I rewrote most of when I got partway through ~

Aaron could still remember lying in his bed in his mother’s house, body bruised and hurting, wishing to have someone who could help him. Someone to make things better. To stand with him and hold him up when he was so close to crumbling. Learning about a long-lost twin felt like something out of a movie. An answered prayer. Finally, Aaron would have someone, a brother, who he could talk to. He imagined late night talks and secrets shared between them. They would have a bond so strong that nothing could come between them.

Andrew’s response of ‘fuck off’ had felt like a back-hand across his face.

Still, he held out hope. He was told to try again in the Spring, and that was what he planned on doing. Even when Andrew was sent to juvie, Aaron held onto his hope of a brother who would care about him. They were twins after all, how hard could it be?

The first time he had met Andrew face to face, Uncle Luther beside him and a metal table separating them, Aaron’s idea of what their relationship would be went up in smoke. His face was looking back at him, but there was no expression, no emotion at all. A blankness that revealed nothing of what he was thinking. It was hard to make eye contact with Andrew, his eyes sharp enough to be cut on. Andrew didn’t speak to Aaron at all that first visit; he just stared at him with a flat glare the entire time.

And yet he still came to South Carolina to live with Aaron. Aaron desperately wanted for Andrew to open up to him when they lived together. He thought he had to, now that they shared a room. He also hoped that home would get better, now that Andrew was home. Maybe mom would get better, would stop being so stressed. So angry.

It only took one incident for Aaron to believe Andrew was untouchable. They were in the backyard so Andrew could smoke, both sipping from a bottle of vodka Andrew had acquired. He had only moved in a week ago, and so far, things had been quiet. Aaron had no new bruises, but Andrew’s blank stare made him warry. The slam of the front door had made Aaron flinch, Andrew’s cold eyes tracking the movement. Aaron could hear their mother calling for him, her words tight with anger. Remembering the pills he had swiped earlier in the day, he swallowed back the lump in his throat and went inside.

He remembers her screaming. He remembers the pain of a hand across his cheek. Then there was Andrew, her wrist gripped in his hand, twisted far enough to make her bend at an awkward angle. It was then that Aaron saw the first expression on his twin’s face, and it terrified him. His lips had curled back in a snarl, his eyes bright with an anger Aaron had never seen before.

It was that night that Andrew had offered Aaron a deal. They would stick together, just the two of them, and Andrew would protect him. Aaron believed this was the answer to what he had been asking for. Finally, he wouldn’t be alone. He made his promise to Andrew.

Months passed, and Aaron was still collecting bruises. It was almost worse now, to have a witness to his suffering. Someone who had promised him protection but couldn’t stop everything.

Then, the accident where Aaron was left with only Andrew. Just the two of them.

The funeral where Andrew’s arm was in a sling, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and a strange gleam in his eye as the dirt was poured on their mother’s grave.

Nicky coming back from Germany, taking them in.

Moving into a new house and Andrew installing a lock on his door.

The agony of being locked in that bathroom, withdrawal clawing his body to shreds.

The slow isolation at school, Andrew refusing to let anyone close.

Nicky’s assault and the mandated therapy.

That awful laughter and empty smile.

And Aaron had to wonder if instead of his prayers being answered, he had been cursed.

~~~

Things began changing the spring of their freshman year of college.

When they first joined the Foxes, there was a clear divide between Aaron’s family and the others immediately. Any interactions ended in spitting insults at best and violence more than not. The others feared Andrew and his knives, circling their group like alley cats. Not that the three of them were much better. Nicky constantly antagonized the others, and the twins’ general lack of effort to get along definitely rubbed a few people the wrong way. The Columbia trips solidified their isolation from the others. Honestly, Aaron couldn’t care less about getting along with his teammates. He would leave them alone as long as they did the same. He was here for a degree, not friends.

Now, they had officially been knocked out of the championships. Not that Aaron could bring himself to care, but games days usually also meant Columbia, and Aaron desperately wanted to get off campus. Between the upperclassmen, Day’s bitching over the season and Nicky’s whining, Aaron was looking forward to drinks, crackers, and music loud enough to lose yourself in.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t go without Andrew. His twin was currently perched on his desk by the window, smoking and staring out at the campus, fingers rapidly tapping. Normally they would already be packed up and gone by now, but they hadn’t gone once in over a month. At first Aaron thought it was because of exy, but then Andrew would disappear from the dorms for hours at a time, much to Day’s frustration. The only reason Aaron even noticed this as odd was because his brother rarely left Day alone. He never told them why they stopped going, or where he disappeared to, and any complaints fell on deaf ears.

“Come on Andrew!” Nicky whined, “We never go to Columbia anymore!”

Andrew’s laughter made Aaron’s jaw tick. “Oh, poor Nicky, don’t you know that no means no?”

“But why not?” Nicky was still going.

Aaron didn’t know why Nicky thought he could reason with Andrew. Unless you were Renee the best result from interacting with him would be victim to a cutting insult or dismissal. Worst case you’d need stitches.

His phone buzzing in his hand distracted him from the conversation happening. Looking at the screen, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, soothing the tension in his shoulders.

Katelyn

You played great today! It’s too bad the season is over

Katelyn was an instant balm to Aaron’s anger. It was still new, this thing between them. They had met in their intro biology class and had spent many late hours at the library studying. She had been the first person at Palmetto who had bothered to get to know Aaron for him, not just as ‘Andrew’s twin’. At first, he was a sullen asshole, but her endless patience and positivity snuck past his defenses and made a place for her in Aaron’s very bones. The only issue was they had to sneak around; Aaron couldn’t risk Andrew finding out about her.

Glancing up to make sure Andrew was still distracted with Nicky, Aaron settled further into his beanbag.

Aaron

Whatever it’s just stickball

Katelyn

Still, I’ll miss watching you ;)

Aaron had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face.

Katelyn

How’s Columbia?

Aaron

Wouldn’t know we’re still in the Tower

Katelyn

Think you could sneak out for a bit?

We’re in that bar with the turtle

Nicky’s yelp brought Aaron’s attention back to the room in front of him. Andrew was still on the desk, but Aaron caught the glint of metal as a knife was put back in one of his armbands. His eyes followed Nicky as he retreated to the bedroom, face split in his usual grin. When the door closed behind Nicky, Andrew’s eyes snapped to Aaron, pinning him to his spot. Aaron glared back, daring Andrew to say something to him. To say anything.

Instead, Andrew flicked his cigarette out the window, slammed in shut, and left the dorm completely. Aaron wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not.

He sat there for a moment, fingers tapping on his phone. If this was going to be following his typical pattern over the past few weeks, Andrew would be gone for hours, and wouldn’t notice if Aaron left. He would just need to be back before Andrew. Really, it wasn’t that hard of a decision.

Aaron

Be there in twenty.

Katelyn

Grabbing his jacket, Aaron hurried out of the dorm, eager to get away. Even if it wasn’t Columbia, even if it was with the Vixens, any time with Katelyn was worth it.

Aaron didn’t look up as he left the Tower. If he did, he might have seen a heavy stare and two lit cigarettes.

~~~

Summer came, and somehow Betsy had convinced the courts to change Andrew’s medication. Something about an incorrect diagnosis or dosage. Aaron wasn’t sure how they thought an Andrew off the pills would be any better, but no one asked him for his opinion.

The upside was that Aaron had weeks free of his oppressive twin, and he could spend as much time with Katelyn as he wanted. It was the first time in years Aaron felt like there was no weight pulling him down, like he could finally breathe.

It was in those few perfect weeks that Aaron came to a decision.

He couldn’t lose this.

~~~

Andrew had come back from Easthaven reverted back to the emptiness of when Aaron had first met him. He had barely said a word to anyone since he came back, simply leveling that bored glare at them whenever someone tried to speak to him. Whenever Aaron saw him, he was fiddling on that damn flip phone, barely acknowledging his surroundings. Even the upperclassmen had noticed his attachment to the device.

It was during a meeting before the first game of the new season that someone finally snapped.

“Damn it, Andrew, what are you doing?” When Kevin got really angry, his face flushed. Right now, he was approaching tomato.

Andrew snapped his phone shut, “Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you need to focus. Our first game is tomorrow, and we are nowhere near ready.”

“Maybe,” Andrew drawled, “instead of worrying about me, you should focus on what you’ll do when you see Riko again.”

It was a low blow, but effective. Kevin immediately fell silent, his skin changing from red to white so quickly Aaron was surprised he didn’t faint. Edgar Allen had joined their district after Kevin announced that he would be joining the Fox line-up. Last year Kevin had showed up, hand bloody and broken, looking for sanctuary. Apparently, Riko had broken his hand in a fit of rage. Kevin had tried to sue, but with the connections and money behind the Moriyama name, it was ruled as an accident. The public backlash of that along with Kevin’s transfer to the Foxes had caused several headaches last year.

“Jesus, Andrew,” Nicky whispered.

Andrew opened his phone again. No one else tried to speak to him for the rest of the meeting.

~~~

It was a new bet among the Foxes: what Andrew was doing on his phone. Everyone agreed that it was pretty clear he was texting someone, but the question was who. Some believed it was a secret girlfriend, while others were still convinced Renee and Andrew were together. Others thought it had to be something illegal.

Aaron knew what he thought, and he silently watched and cataloged information away.

~~~

The season was going terribly. They were winning games by the skin of their teeth and they were more divided than ever. Seth and Kevin couldn’t stop fighting, their newest striker was a nervous wreck, and Andrew didn’t give a shit.

Their last game was against the Ravens, and they had been destroyed. Now, Wymack and Dan were looking for a win.

They were in the locker room getting ready for the game when Andrew’s phone began to ring. Aaron didn’t recognize the song Andrew used, but he knew he normally used the default setting for his ringtone. Andrew picked up before Aaron could think too much on it.

“What?”

At this point everyone was staring at him, not even trying to act like they weren’t eavesdropping.

Andrew scoffed, “Junkie,” he said before snapping his phone shut, tossing it into his locker, and slamming it door closed. A moment later he was stalking out of the locker room.

Silence was left behind in his wake until Nicky broke it, “So it isn’t a girlfriend?”

When the team was gathered again (...missing...)

~~~

(...missing...)Today though, Aaron needed to talk to him.

The chances of Andrew brushing off any attempt Aaron made to speak to him were high, so Aaron waited until Andrew would have to acknowledge him. On Wednesday, when Andrew walked into Reddin, Aaron was waiting for him.

~~~

“Fuck off,” Aaron growled.

Josten had that stupid smirk on his face, his finger tapping on his test score. It wasn’t even that Aaron did bad. It was that Josten did better. He always did better in this stupid class. Aaron hated statistics, but apparently Josten was a math major and took every opportunity to show him up.

From day one Aaron had disliked him. He had plopped down beside Aaron, ratty clothes and shaggy hair, and called him ‘the second Minyard’. Not only was he a complete ass, but he was completely unnerving. His eyes were a blue so pale they were almost glacial, and his face and arms were covered in slashes and burn scars.

Once, Aaron had overheard someone call him ‘Scarface’, and Josten had just asked, with a terrifying grin, if they were looking for some to match.

And Aaron was stuck in a room with him twice a week.

Josten tsked at him, still tapping at his score. “What? Still second?”

“Fuck off,” Aaron really wasn’t in the mood.

He just hummed, pulling his phone out, a god damn flip phone, and spent the next few minutes ignoring the review happening. Aaron could barely focus as Josten texted away; each click grating on Aaron’s already frayed nerves.

Aaron wasn’t even sure how Josten did so well; he spent most of the class doodling in his notebook.

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #aftg fanfiction #para's fics #ask para

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kateis-cakeis · 3 years

Note

Redemption anon!

So, about Wilbur's unfortunate demise... Yeah. I think that every character that saw him spiraling and ignored and labeled it as "insanity" and moved on is to blame for his death. But at the same time, I personally don't place a lot of blame on Tommy.

Because Tommy had hope in him. Tommy hoped he could turn around, Tommy was a teenager in this situation and honestly Wilbur needed a lot more anchoring and adults helping him out, than Tommy.

Like Quackity my guy you saw that room. Beside Tommy, you stopped Wilbur to press that button on your own at Niki's party.

And I get that Pogtopia was this stressful place for everyone and that a lot of people had a lot of stuff on their plates, but come on man, why didn't anyone who came later suggest "hey maybe we should pull Wilbur a bit from action? This must be stressful for him". And I am saying from the outside, because at one point, if you live for... God knows how long in the canon timeline in a certain environment, it becomes the normal. A new pair of eyes though, can see what is wrong.

Him not having a grave hurts. I can tell you guys that graves are important to the historical record. It's actually one of the ways we can find a lot about the past, by looking at how the dead were treated. And him getting a gravestone, at least, would have saved his name, possibly, in the future.

Because there are so few people in the DSMP world... Yeah, this happens. There are no neutral parties that can go and say "hey we have to bury him", because everyone knows eachother, has a relationship with eachother. I would even go to say that Wilbur arranged all of this in such a way to truly die, because people would be upset at him enough to not pass his name down the line, to not give him a grave. To kill his memory. And because everyone on the server, and L'Manberg, knew him personally... Yeah. No one offered to put him to rest. Because they were too affected by his actions, too attached to this issue.

This became a ramble at the end lol sorry. Basically... Wilbur got done so dirty, man.

I don’t blame Tommy a lot either, Redemption Anon, I blame everyone who knew.

Tommy, I have to admit, thought he could save Alivebur by taking back L’Manberg, but that shows he didn’t listen to the whole speech of Alivebur’s where he cracked on about how taking back L’Manberg was wrong.

I can’t blame Tommy a lot, I blame the others too, but he was the first to call Alivebur insane, and for that, I cannot forgive. Alivebur knew Tommy had called him that too, and was upset about it. I can’t possibly imagine how it would feel being called insane by a close friend like that... It’s terrible!

And the way he still calls him insane to this day, I just can’t- I can’t forgive that ever.

But Quackity too! Like come on man! Or Niki who came to Pogtopia and saw a changed Alivebur and did nothing to talk to him to see where he was at, if he was okay???? Or like any of them, who saw his plan and just disagreed without doing anything???

Like come on, of course they’re not at fault for how he died, and no one should ever be blamed for someone choosing to die - nor should people be mad at someone choosing to do so - but they knew he was a bad spot, called him crazy, and called it a day! I just AAAAH, you know?

Someone could have pulled him back from the war, someone could have listened to him saying he was the traitor over and over on war day, someone could have listened to him!

I agree with you with all you said on the grave thing because yeah but:

I would even go to say that Wilbur arranged all of this in such a way to truly die

This hurt the most I think... because I think you could be right. Maybe he wanted to erase his name, get rid of any idea he’d been there in the first place... yeah, this hurts...

But yeah, on your closing point, Redemption Anon? Hell yeah Alivebur got done sooo dirty, so dirty!!!

#dream smp #alivebur #wilbur soot #suicide tw #i sure do hope none of my posts like this are gonna set the tag alight #i sure hope not XD #but yeah this is what i think after yesterday especially #Anonymous

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ask-impure-vessel · 3 years

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I don't know if this will reach you at the right moment in time Vessel but, peace friend, The Wyrm has already shown he cares for you greatly and you have done him no disservice or wrong. This may simply a matter too important to discuss elsewhere and His Majesty may be too caught up in his own troubles to understand the affect he has on you.

[Note: Frank discussion of anatomy, anxiety/panic attacks, unreality, post-traumatic stress, past abuse, suicide, disordered eating, self-harm, stuff about the Abyss with all that entails and other such unpleasantries. Strap in, folks!]

The vessel felt like their body was somewhere a few steps to the right and back of them. Their father said nothing as he led them down to the workshop.

You don’t understand. You don’t-

There’s a distant panic in Vessel’s voice. They still keep walking, they must. The order was given. Despite what happened in the Abyss, control still belongs to the Pale King.

It was as if nothing had changed at all.

For the first time, they begin to resent that. The workshop is the last place they want to be, for multiple reasons besides the temple that was to become their agonizing grave. This is not a place that holds any good memories for them, not a single one.

They arrive in that darkened place, the birthplace of moulds, all thousand of them-700 kingsmoulds, 300 wingsmoulds-where Wyrm's research led to the vessels that rested in the infirmary and that walked into the room. The king shrugged off his silken robe, leaving on a shirt that still covered what was considered a decent amount in Hallownest, showing off the truth of his form; it had been a while and Vessel Hallow was shocked by the changes to his father's form.

He was a being of pure white carapace, plates with softer flesh between, especially around the joints; his skin was sunken, his belly not just thin but almost concave instead of convex. He looked a bit muscular, but mostly because he appeared to be starving. He was dull in color, the white often not as bright as it could be, looking almost dirty with a lack of nutrients to look glossy and nice.

Wyrm could subsist on soul like a vessel, but that didn't mean it was pleasant for him to do so. He was much like other bugs in physicality, fueled by food, water and having to use the toilet to flush out what his body didn't use of those things. His genitals were internal, just like any bug, his shirt covered where that was hidden.

His secondary set of arms were more visible now, as was the lower half he usually ambled upon: multiple legs and a long tail that terminated in a pointed end. His tail was thin, almost collapsed with the lack of care.

What was more alarming were the splotches of black. His hands were absolutely covered in it, just beyond the wrists but the lines that raced upwards were far more concerning. Void taint was a part of Hallow's body but for a pale being, such a sight promised long, lingering agony. The absolute rigid calm their father practiced suddenly became a lot more impressive.

It left Hallow in minor shock.

Father, are you dying? Have you already assured your death? Was it on purpose that you inflicted starvation and void poisoning upon yourself? I can think of few less painful, lingering deaths.

"Come. Please kneel so that I can more easily examine you and the changes to you." He activated the door seals and waited in a clear space.

<Father, I-> The vessel walked and knelt, words cutting off with anxiety.

Wyrm activated and checked on the seal on Hallow's mask. "Interesting, joining with the Lord of Shades didn't disengage this? I hadn't expected that. It must have been greatly weakened over the course of my rule and being forgotten. I had thought them already dead." He muttered and began to ghost fingers over the notches Hallow had. "Where did the Kingsoul go?"

That had been a question Hallow had been dreading.

A hand touched upon Hallow's chest. "There it is, if changed greatly at your breast. It became your core? Brace."

It was more warning than Hallow usually got; sharp pain radiated through their being, as something touched their heart.

<Father, it. It hurts.> The vessel gasped out. They were not words sufficient, but they were descriptive enough for their use.

"Please bear it a little longer. This is a very beautiful charm that has become your heart even if it is taboo to my being."

The pain grew to shocking agony, then to a fading sensation, Hallow felt like their body was a distant, cut off thing.

<Father, please. Stop!> The vessel spoke in growing horror, fear and concern.

The Pale King was faced with a decision then-and let go of the charm. Sensation slowly returned and the vessel gasped on the floor, curling in on themself on the floor as mind and body reconnected. It was painful as the disruption the Pale King had inflicted and the vessel would have gagged if they could on the feelings of revulsion they now felt.

They instead wept on the floor, black tears falling onto the ground as they shivered and their mind turned to things they did there, the pale Wyrm unheeding to a child's pain in the terrible silence; the screams that echoed only through the void, the vessel capable only of displaying stiff trembling to their master.

They recall the efforts to ensure they could learn magic. The painful process of 'installation' over being taught the theory that took place here. The studies that involved dying here and their shade. When the various seals were made on their shell and mask, the burning magic that had kept burning on their mask for days from them. They had done nothing but suffer in this room and this day had proven no different.

"Vessel, I. I'm sorry, that went too far." The king stroked their mask, making a soothing sound, a purr that Hallow hadn't heard before.

Hallow felt the dam burst and sat as they cried, for all the things they'd wanted and had never had. That Wyrm was holding them now, comforting them now, touching with loving intention rather than with cold intent of science or with violence. The feelings were somewhat positive, but many were bitter, some even bordered on hate and disgust that they didn't know what to do with. They had so many things to say, for themself, for the things that had been done to them and the things they'd missed out on. For the way their father had run away the moment their emotions had become known like a damnable coward. That had been a choice Hallow had been denied, they couldn't say no-yet this day, for the first time, they had asked for their father to stop.

And he had listened.

The Pale King let Hallow get out everything they'd needed to, to calm down and recover from… whatever it was that he'd been doing to them. <This one doesn't want to be experimented on again, or studied. This place, it brings back bad memories for it.> Hallow spoke, in a shaking mental voice. <It is painful for this vessel to be here.>

"Oh, Vessel. I had no idea it was that upsetting. Let's go to my study, then so you don't have to be here. You never have to come in here again." The King promised and led the shaking knight from that terrible place.

They settled down in a chair this time, the king likewise going seated. "I will apologize. That was too far, I needed to explain what I was doing and why-to ask for your permission. It's not easy to break old habits. I noticed you dropped first-person pronouns in your stress." He spoke frankly with sadness.

<This one supposes not. It felt like it was… dying.> Hallow shuddered. <Did you pull this vessel away to speak, or was it to satisfy that curiosity?> They asked tiredly.

"A bit of both, admittedly. To ask you how you're feeling, but that's… obvious, right now and is very much my doing." He sighed and leaned forward. "I'll have to be invasive one more time, I'm afraid but perhaps not this day, to let you recover. I need to set you free and I intend to."

<You'll… free this one from its bondage?> Hallow rephrased in mild disbelief.

"Yes. As my final order in that bondage, for the rest of your life should something happen and I am unable to undo that binding-I order you to act of your own free will and feelings, as you see fit and judge is right. I relinquish control over your will and mind. There will need to be magic done to completely remove the binding, but it will no longer function."

<It will thank you, father once this one is wholly free.> Hallow spoke diplomatically. They couldn't exactly forgive him entirely yet if the harm was still there.

"I understand. You are a higher being now, truly. While you could read the language of the gods and make things function that are for gods, you didn't have a few aspects that would elevate you from a child of higher beings to purely one yourself. However, you do not have worshippers and as much distaste as I have for the god that was, that will need to change for your own health."

<That must be why the Lord of Shades said they were very, very starved. Speaking of, father. Why are you starved?> The vessel spoke pointedly. <This one believes they can ask some pointed questions and get answers in return. You owe it at least that much.>

"I. Eating is a currently disgusting endeavor to me. Certainly, I did like it once and ate but. Since the vessel project started, my. My enjoyment became nil." He replied honestly. "My shame steals the joy out of anything I do."

"I do not regret having you for a child. I regret that I killed so many and the crimes committed against the siblings who didn't make it. I regret how I've treated you. I don't know if I could make it up to the survivors but I will at the least try for the time I have and make sure your siblings do not go through the struggles you did." The king chose his words carefully. "I believed I had no other recourse. No other choice that wouldn't see my people dead or entirely enslaved to the Old Light-but I do not think I deserve forgiveness for being a kinslayer, for my mistreatment of you. I have been something to you for sixteen years. Would have been that for two years more, so you could have your final moulting and complete your training. I would have nailed that armor to your carapace and left you to her tender mercies. In that, I was wrong. I intended to kill myself once I was sure my people were safe and could carry on in my absence."

<It knows. It realized that when it went down into the Abyss before becoming the Shade Lord.> The vessel spoke, voice thick with pain. <You're dying, aren't you father. That's why you don't mind sacrificing yourself to the Grimm Troupe either. You are dying and you want to die.>

"I've done too much to live or to allow myself the pleasures in living. The situation in Hallownest is my fault. Your pain is my fault. The many, many broken masks in the Abyss are my fault. I am a kinslayer, who committed infanticide of his own children. Even a god doesn't get forgiveness for those kinds of horrible actions. I deserve the suffering you children experienced. I deserve the deaths I visited upon the children I deemed not good enough. Yes. I am suffering void poisoning, it is an agony I bear constantly. My light holds it at bay enough that I can live five more years without drastic actions." He spoke bluntly.

"Exposure to void with proper protections isn't deadly. A bug can be scarred by void without dying, in fact the exposure can have beneficial effects such as on the ageless mask maker. Void poisoning in mild cases caught early enough is treatable. So I suppose yes. I did that to myself deliberately." He spoke numbly. "It's… actually a relief to admit that. I wasn't expecting that."

<It's not treatable now. You're dying. How long do you have left?> Hallow felt like the ground was opening beneath their feet.

"No, even I will succumb to a case this severe having gone on this long. Five to seven years, depending." Wyrm spoke clinically. "Your mother doesn't know, but she's not very curious and finds my company odious these days. I don't want her to know."

<You aren't the only one. Would you die as a member of the Grimm Troupe?> Hallow pondered.

"No, time is frozen in a sense for a member of the Troupe. As a sacrifice, my original body would likely be immolated, the presence of void cast out as anathema to it as well. It's not got a will of its own so expelling it for the Nightmare Heart would be doable. It's just not for me between having a corpus much closer to mortal form and my diminishment as a god."

Hallow rubbed a hand over their chest. <Father, please free this vessel today. Now.> It was firm. <This vessel just wants to love you as themself. Not as your property, as your child. Whatever you have done, it does not know if it can forgive, but love. Love is something this vessel has always been able to give.>

The first time Hallow had ever demanded anything for themself and only themself.

Tears came from the king's eyes. "As you wish, Lord of Shades my child."

The bindings lit up as the king touched, claws digging into the mask with a strange sensation that felt like it should hurt but didn't. The light burned, the mark burned. But the claws were quick, chanting even and fast. Soul pooled around the king's hands.

The chains broke and Hallow felt a weight come off, something they hadn't realized had been there for a very long time. The remnants would be there, like an invisible scar until they moulted, but then-then it would be gone.

It would take time for them to understand what they'd gained and lost at once. <Today I learned that this one's father is not brave. Please. Please live. Even if your crimes are too much for your heart to bear. Stop running away. Please. Face what you have done, face us who you have wronged. It's not too late.>

"...I can try. I love you, my child." He touched foreheads with Hallow, a familial kiss. "For all you vessels, I will try. I don't know how anymore, but I can still learn."

Hallow is not an adult. They are, however, now free of their father's chains.

#hollow knight #hk pure vessel #hk pale king #the choice

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kuvvydraws · 4 years

Note

I'm not sure if you've answered this question already, but I'm honestly very curious- why do you write fanfiction? I certainly enjoy it as much as you and have written a few things of my own, but I know it can be quite a personal topic for many writers. If it's too personal for you, don't feel any pressure to answer, but it's always interesting to see the writer's perspective outside of the story they've written :). I hope you understand what I'm trying to say-

Hey!

I actually enjoy the words and the rush your brain gets when they join without effort to create a reality.

Now, let me break that down XD

I've always had a book in my hands as far as my memory goes. My dad used to read to me when I was very little and from the second I could do it on my own, that was the best thing ever (yes, that means when I was punished for doing some shit, my books were taken away and I had to sneak them into my schoolbag and read in class like a heathen).

Not only I enjoyed books but I always found myself wanting to partake in the stories, and my brain was always running with the words and the scenes. (I discovered during my teenage years that brains have different ways to process thoughts and mine did it in words, so writing just sort of came naturally to me at that point in my life).

I discovered ffnet when I was 12, I think, but I had tried my hand at original works (that is, about five or six starts of different novels that never saw the light) and some "fanfiction" (about Nightmare Before Christmas because I had a big ass crush on Jack and I unassumingly created my first xReader ever) without knowing what the hell I was doing.

I just knew I wanted to write stuff and I did as much.

The thing is, I introduced one of my friends, who also loved to read and write, to ffnet, and we started writing together. The first thing we wrote was a Sesshomaru x OC fic, the second one was a Sasori x OC fic, and we dipped out toes into some Kuroshitsuji x OC...... all of them handwritten stories we promised we would type in a computer eventually (we didn't, they were horrible [I still have the notebooks we used for each of them and they are cringey as fuck]).

But we wrote for ourselves and we were happy like that.

So we were rampant and wild and having the best time. Back then I still wrote in Spanish (because I hardly knew any English and I didn't care for it), and I remember mixing Spain's Spanish with the ones from South America because obviously the percentage of writers in ffnet who used a different "dialect" Spanish was huge if you compare a single, tiny country with a whole continent.

At the same time I wrote with my friend, I wrote for myself. Naruto, Kuroshitsuji, Bleach, Hetalia.... And I met so many people, nice people, who loved my works (they were random fics, all of them x OC because I didn't know x Reader ones were a thing -they weren't at that time, and x Reader are harder to write in Spanish because all the words and pronouns are gendered one way or another-) and I got so much enjoyment from sharing them.

The thing about books I love the most is the fact that you can convey so many emotions with a few symbols, and you can create worlds out of ink and you can change views and inspire others. So, if none of my dumbass teenage novels were to roam the word, I still could share, in a free, open and fast way, my words with others.

Again, I was going to write them with or without posting them because I found -and still find- great pleasure when a scene creates itself in your brain and all you have to do to make it real is to write it down. (Sometimes my brain still does this and even when I'm daydreaming, my imagination is "written, described and dialogued" as if someone was reading a novel out loud. It makes writing so much easier).

And then I got hate.

I somehow had managed to miss all of the fandom drama that's so toxic in the internet because I didn't bother to interact with anyone in the fandoms beyond the reviews they left in my fics, and ffnet has a -sort of- specific search engine to help you find whatever you want, so I could never willingly find the "problematic stuff" because I was literally not trying to find it.

The hate comment I got was anonymous and very specific about everything that was wrong in a particular fic I had just updated -from plot and characterization to grammar and continuity-, and later on I discovered it came from a couple of authors who shared an account and who I admired greatly for their works. Turns out they were out for blood and hating on every fic that had updated that week and that had any members of their OTP shipped with some other character. (It was a Hetalia fanfic, I was writing SpUK and they were pro FrUk, if anyone is interested).

I was contacted by some other authors asking about this because they had gone through the very same thing -same specific hate, same hate comment- and I remember not giving a fuck.

I was 16 when I got the hate, writing for fun and trying to find a way to go through my shitty highschool days without falling into the black out of depression that haunted me. I remember not wanting to write anything anymore, leaving a fic I was very invested in writing to gather dust and rot in the forgotten folders of my computer because every time I tried to get on with it and progress, it felt wrong.

That thing I said about words just happening? It stopped. My brain was silent as a grave and trying to get my words out became painful. I remember struggling to even write regular project for my school.

I kept reading, of course -it was my only comfort and I really, really didn't want to give up on it-, but I abandoned the fandoms I enjoyed so much before. My new focus became the sci-fi, and I remember being hooked on Predator. Imagine my joy when I discovered there were thousands of works from that fandom! I was extasic.

Problem? They were written in English.

I didn't know shit about English besides being a language I was supposed to handle in school, memorize the unreasonably spelt words that were pronounced illogically regarding the fucking spelling and the stupid ass irregular verbs.

But I learnt English because I wanted a hot piece of alien ass XD

Back to the topic of fanfics, I still roamed ffnet, keeping 15 tabs open and reading until 5 am... But now there was a world of possiblities in front of me because of course everyone on this goddamn Earth writes in English.

So, for the next years I did that, and my words didn't come. It was fine, tho, because I had so many new things to read.

It wasn't until fall of 2018 that I dabbed into the idea of maybe considering to perhaps give writing a try again????? I was neck deep into Undertale -still am, I'm a shameless skeleton fucker and there's no cure for that shit- and its many AU's and somehow I had managed to avoid fandom wars again, so my brain started toying with words... The same way it worked with novels: I got myself into the fics other people wrote (this is so much easier to do with x Reader fics, and I'm so happy about that and the massive boom they had just when Undertale came out, you can't even understand it).

So I kept doing my shit and daydreaming about skeletons and ribs and ecto-stuff for a very long time. It was kinda reassuring and nice to see other writers projecting on their x Readers so much because that's what I had done before.

And then Good Omens happened.

As I've said before, I actually discovered Gomens back in 2012 and it is, to the date, the worst translation to Spanish I've seen in my entire life to this date. And, despite it, I fell in love with it.

Now, barely in 2019, my dad gets Amazon Prime and the first thing he fucking sees is the font of Gomens on the screen. I had fangirled hard about Gomens in book version, so much and so annoyingly that I wouldn't leave my dad alone until he gave it a chance. It's the only book my father hasn't finished because the translation is that bad. He hates it.

Yet.

The particular font they use for the show is the same from the book's title. My dad of course recognized it immediately and knew I would want in on the news.

I confess I watched Gomens the show at least seven times before giving it a break because I liked it so much and the novel was so fucking good and it's honest to God the best adaptation I've ever seen to the screen. It's so good I'm fucking sure I was crying actual tears after watching it for the first time because my dreams and all the feelings that book had given me over the years and the many re-reads were "true" and so well done and it reached deep into my heart.

And then, for the first time in six years, my words came back.

Another thing Good Omens has given me, I have to say.

I don't know if I can stress this enough, but just imagine spending six years of radio silence, sending longing stares to the void and hoping to see something yours returning back, something you've lost and you're not sure you're getting back, something you think you don't need or want but that would be nice to have again. If only. You can live without that something, and no one but you cares about it, and it's not that big of a deal and-

Then you see a spark in the dark.

My words came back.

They weren't in Spanish, and it was hard to manage them at first, only being able to listen to them in short bursts over long periods of time.

But they were my words and they were back.

Writing is still hard, and I have a lot of work to do to improve my skills, to get them not only back but to refine them because I'm not writing in my native language and all I know is what I've learnt from other authors and their knowledge. I project a lot on my projects -I don't intend to stop because it's such a relief, the biggest scape from reality I get by doing so; it helps me deal with my problems, it gives me a break and a way to take a breath when I can't keep going...

Fanfics are where I can say what I want to say to the world in the most honest way, and that allows me to be me, and to express myself and indulge in the fantasies I dream about without having to force myself to think of them over and over and over. I can just sit back and enjoy content I know I like without being judged for it.

I can fucking make that content, too.

Writing feels like home, even if sometimes I still struggle, if I can't find my words or the expression is not quite like that in English, or if I can't find the words or if I'm suffering a block... because there's nothing scarier and more free than a blank page ready to be written.

#this is long as fuck #sorry for the trip because damn that's some heavy backstory i just puked #i still have my ffnet account but its been years since I've used it #only for predator and hp content i have to say #i have over 600 bookmarks there but who cares #kuvvytalks about some personal crap

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drarrygirl27 · 4 years

Text

Thanks for the tag, @unsealingkale !

I nominate @darling-lo

1. what does your name mean / mean to you?

Oh wow! I learned something new about my name. It is a Hindi boy name meaning, Center. I'm used to reading it meaning things like knowledge, wise, understanding, and water baby. This is very interesting!

I used to hate my first name years ago, but honestly I really used to hate myself for many reasons for many years. I now love my first name as much as I love my middle name. My last name is pretty cool. I used to want to change it to my biological last name, but now it ties me to both my grandma (She got remarried when my dad and his brother were in their teen years. The man she remarried, she had 3 of my uncles with, 2 are still alive.) and my dad so I'm going to keep it for a little while longer. My dad has another brother who I keep in contact with with my biological last name. They found each other through Facebook years and years ago.

2. breakfast, lunch or dinner?

Breakfast because breakfast is the bomb! That is my favorite kind of food, day or night. I do eat lunch and dinner too, but breakfast food will always have my heart.

3. what are you proud of?

I am proud of how far I actually have come in my life. There were times where I literally wanted to just let things be even when it was bad for me to do so, but I still eventually found the courage to leave when I knew that in my heart of hearts that I needed to for the good of my overall well being. I have had to do that a good bit of times in my life and despite how some of it hurt me really bad to do so emotionally and sometimes mentally even, I knew that I just had to do it because if I would have stayed in some if not most of those situations, I wouldn't be where I am now.

I don't have the best job in the world right now and things have been really hard especially with this crazy ass situation going on, but I am so much happier in so many ways than I was 3 years ago and years before that even. I have grown a lot in many ways. I have the Army to thank for that at least partly. That place pushed me to my limits in so many ways that I had no choice, but to see that I really, really needed to change in some ways if I was ever going to get anywhere in life in the Civilian world. It was what I like to call a necessary hell.

4. your go to song on a bad day?

Not sure if this counts, but when I get scared or anxious about something, I listen to "Lullaby" by Shawn Mullins. It feels like he is singing it to me in a way. It sounds crazy I know, but I have loved this song for many years and overtime it just became a really good comforting song for me.

5. have / want tattoos

I don't have tattoos and I don't think I will ever get a tattoo. I don't like needles. I'm not as bad as my mom with them, but I still don't like the way they feel and I wouldn't know what to get anyway.

6. what are you looking forward to post ‘rona?

To go to places without having to wear a mask like the movies and the mall for instance. They drive me nuts! I wear them for work and when I go into stores. At home, I stay mask free because no one has the 'rona in the house because we all wear masks when we go out some where like work places and the like.

7. fave place you’ve travelled to / where you would like to travel to?

Lost Maples Natural State Area in Texas, hands down! It is a gorgeous place with mountains with hiking trails and beautiful unbelievably crystal clear water.

North Carolina. I need to pay respects to my grandma and if it is allowed I am thinking about spreading my dad's ashes on her grave as well. I was in the Army when she died. I was offered to go back home because of it, but I knew my grandma would have wanted me to keep going and so I did.

8. name a personal object in your room that you love

My grandma's and Daddi-o's memorial service discs even though the Bitch Cunt of the Century a.k.a. Former stepmom was in charge of the pictures on my Daddii-o's discs. You can tell because she is in most of the pics. *Sighs* Lord, I wish I would have had enough balls to tell that 'thing' to fuck all the way off! *Sighs* Hindsight is 2020 and unfortunately, all that shit went down in 2017.

9. what’s your niche interest?

Hmm... I have a good bit of them to be honest. I will just name my main fandoms at the moment. Rhink, Supernatural, and Harry Potter especially when it comes to shipping. LOL!

10. ideal date with yourself?

Hmm... An ideal date with myself, eh? This is going to sound so weird or maybe not, but either a trip to a bookstore or a thrift and or antique store. I love to check out those kinds of places.

11. share a pic from your camera roll that brings you joy

12. is there anything you would say to your younger self?

It may not seem like it now, but eventually things are going to get better for you and you are going to accept and love yourself for everything that you are. You're not going to hate yourself forever and there are going to be people who like and or love you as a person. Your family has always loved and respected you even if it didn't seem like it sometimes. One day, you are going to be able to look into the mirror and through very, very deep self reflection come to understand why your friends and family and the like have always loved, respected, admired, and believed in you. I love you and one day, you are going to love you too.

13. do you bop to music on (I corrected this. It originally said in.) your own? do you sing?

Yep especially while driving in my car to and from work and at work too.

Oh Hell Yeah! I sing way more than I used to especially not just by myself behind closed doors. I don't sing out loud at work though because people could be sleeping and also I'm still a wee bit hesitant to sing in front of people like face to face depending upon where I am at, who I am with, and such. I'm working on it, but I do show my talent to people a lot more than what I used to.

14. is there a type of animal you associate with home? does your house get animal visitors?

Hmm... I was around cats a lot more than dogs throughout most of my lifetime especially my childhood and teenage years.

If we're being sappy though I'd say cats and dogs now. My boyfriend's brother and sister-in-law have a cat that I love a lot. He is what I like to call a sweet asshole. LOL! He can be nice and or loving, but not towards most people. He is kind of like my boyfriend in that way. They're both assholes to people who actually deserve it, but if you're a good and respectable person they'll show you the same kind of decency.

My mom has two German Shepherds that are my fuzz sisters. I love them way more than I thought I would ever love dogs. I was just a cat person for a really, really long time, but now I actually like or love dogs depending upon my relationship with them.

15. is there an artist of any kind who speaks to your soul?

Oh goodness! So many of them do. A lot of musical artists, writers, and the like. To name them all would have me write out a novel or two even. LOL!

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 195: One Heart

Snow and David appeared at home in their living room and they looked around in confusion.

"Why would he send us here? It's hardly hiding," David said and Snow looked out the window, only to find Regina and Emma there, putting up a shield.

"That's why...they know they can't hide us," she said.

"So we're prisoners now?" he questioned in irritation. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him.

"If it means keeping you safe from...from…" Snow said, as she struggled to say the words.

"Snow…" he started to say, as she crumpled into his arms.

"She's going to hurt people…" Snow cried.

"We'll stop her," he promised.

"How? We can't banish my other half. We tried that with the Queen and now she's back!" Snow cried.

"The only way to deal with my other half is to…" but the words died on her lips.

"Don't…" he hissed.

"Don't even think that!" he said in outrage.

"I need you...I can't live without you…" he said, his voice thick with grief just at the possibility of losing her again.

"If she gets to you…" she started to say.

"I'll be fine…" he finished for her.

"Will you? Can you honestly tell me that your other half isn't fighting to get out and go to her right now? Because I know us...we are them. He wants her as much as you want me," Snow said fiercely. He sighed.

"I won't hide...so we hide the chalice," he replied.

"How?" she asked.

"Good question...that's what we need to figure out," Regina said, as she and Emma appeared in the house. They sighed in relief, as the rest of their children and David's father appeared as well. Summer and Bobby ran to their parents and they hugged them fiercely. Snow and David looked up at Regina, knowing that they also had to discuss what Bobby had just done and what it could mean.

~*~

Aphrodite covered her mouth in horror and felt the bile rise in her throat, as they arrived on the smoldering Mount Olympus. They had no warning and never had a chance. She knew for a fact that Athena had been in her Temple and wasn't surprised when she appeared alongside Hermes and herself.

"How could I not foresee this…" she uttered sadly. Aphrodite and Hermes hugged her.

"You couldn't have known...and Seth would have been in your blind spot. He's a Titan," the blonde admonished.

"She's right," Poseidon said gravely, as they saw him beside Zeus' charred Throne. There wasn't much left of him, but the body was clearly that of his youngest brother and Athena's father.

"Father and I rarely saw eye to eye...but I did love him," Athena said.

"Of course you did. Zeus was difficult at best, but not even he deserved this," Hermes agreed. Aphrodite sniffed and felt James' arms around her waist. She turned to him and finally collapsed in his embrace. He hugged her fiercely against his chest and rested his head on hers, as he stroked her back.

"I'm so sorry, my love…" he whispered to her. She pulled back and looked at him with wide eyes.

"I...I need to get you and the children out of Storybrooke," she said in a panicked tone.

"We're not leaving you…" he protested.

"James...I can't protect you and our babies from him! My magic is no match!" she said frantically, as she turned to Hermes.

"I need to take them to another sector...far from here," she said.

"I can speak to Fandral...I'm sure his home realm could provide a safe place," Hermes agreed.

"Hold on...I'm not leaving you here with that monster!" he protested.

"James...you have to. I can't lose you and our children," she cried.

"And I can't lose you...I won't," he replied fiercely, as he kissed her passionately.

"We will face this, but we will do it together," he admonished. She didn't like it, but did not press further at the moment, as they tried to determine the other deceased.

They found a corpse near Zeus and determined that it was Hera. Among the other dead was Ares, Hestia, and Hephaestus. They would have all died instantly, without warning or a chance. Seth had returned for revenge and enacted it with a vengeance. And they knew this was only the beginning for him and none of them knew how they would ever be able to win against the most powerful Titan to ever exist

~*~

Rose came out of the bathroom that evening in a long, red satin nightgown and had forgone her white robe. She saw her husband, standing on the balcony just outside their chambers, brooding as he usually did when he was troubled. She padded out to join him and slipped her arms around his waist, as she rested her head on his back. He turned and swept her into his embrace, as he held her tightly against him. After a few beats she lifted her head and caressed his face.

"Talk to me, my love…" she requested. He looked down shamefully and she cupped his handsome face in her hands.

"I know you have a past...and there is nothing in it that you could tell me that would make me love you less," she promised.

"My love for you only grows, every day and that will never change. My love for you could never fade. It can only become stronger," she added. He sighed and placed a kiss on top of her head.

"You know that woman," she said, making a statement rather than asking it as a question.

"Unfortunately…" he answered, as he took her hand and led her inside. He sat down in a comfortable, oversized chair and pulled her down into his lap. They had spent many evenings in this chair by the fire in their chambers, curled up together, holding each other, kissing and even making love. They had read there together and he had told her many things about his past, but never this story in detail. Not because he had been hiding it, but rather he didn't see the point in such details. She knew he had a past and she knew he had been with other women. He was over fifteen hundred years old, after all. It would have been unreasonable to think otherwise and she never cared to make him dredge up the unpleasantness in his past. Their life was so happy and full of love that she was just fine leaving his past where it lay. But now it seemed that a piece of it had arrived and she would now need to know about it.

"That woman...her name is Amora and she wields a particular kind of magic that is very destructive, not physically, but rather the worst kind of destruction. Emotionally, mentally...even spiritually," he said.

"Amora...she is the Enchantress I read briefly about in one of the books from stories of your realm," Rose recalled. He nodded. Her memory was nothing short of impeccable.

"Yes...she delights in destroying relationships and marriages, so naturally I was not her usual mark," he explained.

"I guess something about me drew her to me though," he added.

"Well...you are strikingly handsome," she mused, as she caressed his face and pecked him on the lips.

"Anyway...I didn't know who she really was obviously and we entered a relationship. I was not in a relationship with anyone else at the time, which is why it was puzzling that I was a target for her at all," he continued.

"And you fell in love," Rose deduced, but he looked at her sharply.

"I thought it was love...it was nothing compared to what we have. Not even close, you must understand that, my angel," he stressed and she gently caressed her hand along the back of his neck in a soothing manner.

"I know...I know that what we have is beyond anything ordinary," she assured.

"When I found out who she really was...I was heartbroken at the time. I asked her why she did this and she claimed that she wanted to add an Asgardian warrior to the notches on her bedpost," he said shamefully.

"I'm so sorry, my love," she cooed.

"Don't be...it taught me a very needed lesson. I realized that I had broken many hearts myself in my frivolous love life. I vowed then and there that I would never take pleasure in the flesh if my heart was not in it," he said, as he caressed her face gently.

"I vowed that if I was lucky enough to find love...real love...that I would cherish it," he continued.

"It was only a few years later that I fell through that portal and found my way to you," he added, as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"And I know how much you love me. Are you really worried that she might use her powers to tempt you away?" she asked. His eyes widened.

"No...never!" he refuted.

"What we have...our love is too powerful for her. You are everything to me, my darling Rose," he promised.

"I never thought for a second that she could lure you away...but you still seem so uneasy. What is it then?" she asked. He sighed.

"Because she does not take rejection well. Those that have rejected her advances in the past...she then goes after the ones that she has been rejected for," he explained.

"Then you fear she will come after me and the children," she surmised.

"If she does...then it is not banishment she will suffer this time," he promised.

"Unfortunately...she is not the only problem it seems," Rose mentioned. He sighed.

"No...our friends are facing an even more dire situation and this Seth...if he can kill Gods, then I fear for us all," he said.

"Oh Fandral…" she fretted, as she rested her head on his chest.

"Don't worry, my angel. I shall protect you and our children to my dying breath," he promised.

"I know you will...but I cannot lose you," she fretted.

"You are my life," she confessed and he caressed her face.

"As you are mine and I promise that I plan to try my best to survive any battle ahead," he said, as he gathered her in his arms like she weighed nothing and stood up, as he carried her to their large bed.

"No more of any of that unpleasantness tonight, my love," he said, as he lay her down on the bed.

"Mmm...I agree," she purred, as she pulled him down with her by his collar. Their lips parted briefly, as he stopped for a moment. He sensed something amiss, but it quickly faded.

"What is it?" Rose asked. He smiled at her.

"Nothing…" he promised, as he joined her in bed and for the moment, all that mattered was them and their love.

Outside their balcony, Amora smirked deviously and once he had sensed her, she wisely disappeared and then reappeared in the garden below their room.

"You may have moved on, Fandral...but I never quite did. Never has anyone affected me the way you did. Your Rose is a lucky woman...I do hope nothing happens to her," the Enchantress said, with a devious smirk, as she disappeared.

~*~

Blue worked late in the office at the convent, doing the books, as this was her role these days. After the debacle with the Black Fairy, she had effectively been stripped of her leadership role and was lucky to even be allowed to keep her wings. Tinkerbell was head of the fairies now and had reduced her role to this. She knew she should be grateful for that even and not in a prison cell. Snow and Charming had taken mercy on her and even returned her wand to her. But without a leadership role, it didn't do her much good and she was watched very closely these days. She would never return to power; they had promised that, but opted not to lock her up. She knew she should feel grateful, but she was bitter. Most of the other fairies shunned her now, which was why she chose to work in the evenings after most had retired for the night.

"I guess being a night owl is more appealing when everyone hates your guts," a voice said, interrupting Blue, as she did some filing. She recognized the voice, but somehow it was different and there was an edge to it that made the hair raise on the back of her neck. She turned to find Snow standing there, but her hair was short again and she was wearing a short, black leather dress and stilettos.

"Snow…" Blue uttered, but then she realized that this was not the Snow she knew.

"You can call me Winter to save confusion," she said nonchalantly.

"You're her dark half…" Blue deduced.

"Yes...the Evil Queen has returned and decided to separate us. I think she somehow thinks Snow and I will destroy each other, but she's going to end up regretting this," Winter responded.

"Because now that I'm unhindered by the other half, who insists on forgiving everyone that's wronged her in favor of giving hope speeches...I'm going to go after everyone that's ever wronged me and my Charming," she hissed, as she glared at the disgraced fairy. Blue swallowed thickly.

"I never wronged you…" she refuted, which made Winter let out a bitter laugh.

"Don't tell me you actually believe that, you deceitful gnat!" Winter growled, as she slowly walked toward her, while Blue backed away.

"Firstly...you tried to sabotage mine and Charming's true love…" she reminded.

"I thought I was doing what was best!" Blue argued.

"Best for you!" she snapped.

"You wanted me to leave the Kingdom after he saved me that day from the Woodcutter. You were scared of the true love sapling that was born between us that day and its power, because you knew we would eventually have far more power than you; power you couldn't control," Winter continued.

"I had a reason to be scared! Look at you...look at all the strife you both have had to endure for love. You may have a powerful true love that few can comprehend, but from where I'm standing, the price of that love is far too high," Blue retorted, which made Winter furious and her hand went around the fairy's neck.

"I should cut out your tongue for that…" she hissed.

"Our love is worth every bit of strife...our children are worth it all, you fluttering nuisance," she growled. Blue glared at her.

"Well...you defied me and decided to fight back that day. You got your Charming," she growled back.

"Oh, but your treachery didn't stop there, did it?" Winter questioned.

"You lied to us about the wardrobe," she raged.

"You know why I did. Gepetto was desperate to save his son. Just as desperate as you and Charming were to save your daughter," Blue countered.

"Emma needed us! She was the only one that could break the curse and save us all, including you," Winter spat.

"I didn't know you'd go into labor early. I thought you'd go through the wardrobe still pregnant," Blue reminded.

"Without Charming, because to hell with our love, right?" she growled.

"You can stop with your melodramatics. Your daughter fared far better than we thought she might. Merlin gave her the book and David ended up outside the curse. She came to us at ten instead of twenty-eight," Blue argued.

"No thanks to you…" Winter snapped.

"I can't believe my good half forgave you!" she raged, as she stepped back momentarily and released her hand from Blue's neck. As expected, the fairy dodged toward her desk and scrambled to get her wand out of her desk. Winter laughed and kicked her away from the desk, easily confiscating the wand for herself.

"You did exactly as I knew you would. Thank you...it saved me the time of tearing this place apart for it," Winter said, as she looked at the wand.

"You see, until Charming separates and we can wield the Chalice together, I need a little magic to help me with my revenge," she added, as she wrinkled her nose at the color.

"Not really my color though," she said, as she shook the wand, willing it to do as she wanted and it turned white in color. Winter smirked.

"Much better," she purred, as she pointed the wand at the first person on her revenge list.

"What...what are you going to do to me? Kill me? Blacken your half heart even further?" Blue taunted.

"My black heart? That's rich, coming from you, but I can assure you that everything I do will be justified. I may be the dark half of Snow White, but you are the light half of the Black Fairy...and your goodness is highly questionable," Winter retorted.

"But to answer your question...no, I'm not going to kill you. That's too good," Winter said, as she waved the wand. They disappeared and reappeared outside the convent in the garden.

"I was going to turn you into a blue flea...but I like animals, so I'd rather not make you their problem," Winter mused and then smirked deviously.

"No...I think you'll make a far better lawn ornament for the birds to land their droppings," she continued. Blue opened her mouth to scream, but she was silenced, as Winter used the wand to turn her to stone. She grinned in satisfaction.

"Much better...no one has to listen your grating voice anymore," she said, as she waved the wand and disappeared. She reappeared out by the Toll bridge and idly walked across it.

"Yes...this place will do perfectly," she mused, as she used the wand to clear enough of the trees away and with another wave, a castle rose into the sky. It wasn't overly large, but it didn't need to be. There was enough room and luxury for her and Charming, as well as their children. She knew they would resist at first, but eventually would come to realize they were their parents as much as their light halves were. The bridge now served as a walkway over the babbling creek into their castle and she went inside.

"Soon my love...you'll join me here and help me make everyone that has wronged us pay…"

He couldn't resist separating forever, for just like Snow and her Charming shared one heart, so did she and her Charming...

~*~

"Well...your vault is definitely out since the Queen is back and I'd say maybe we could put the Chalice in Aphrodite's Temple, but I'm guessing that's no longer an option either," Emma mentioned, as Aphrodite and James appeared in a puff of orange smoke.

"You'd be correct," the Goddess said, as Snow went to hug her.

"Everyone that was on Olympus when that blast hit is dead. So far, it seems that me, Hermes, Poseidon, Athena and a few others have survived," she said.

"I'm so sorry…" Snow told her.

"Thank you...but there is little time to mourn. We have much greater problems," she said gravely.

"Are you talking about what Bobby did?" Snow asked a bit fearfully.

"I'm afraid so," she replied.

"But...he doesn't even know what he did," David argued, as he put his hands on his son's shoulders.

"It doesn't matter...this is uncharted territory and if Seth thinks there is someone that could stand against him...he'll seek to eliminate them," she said. Bobby's eyes widened in fear.

"I'm sorry sweetheart...I don't mean to scare you, but I also need you to know how serious this is," she added.

"I have a feeling you have hidden powers that we have only begun to realize," she continued.

"Does that mean that I might have to fight him?" Bobby asked.

"Oh that's not happening," David refuted.

"Absolutely not," Snow agreed.

"He's just a little boy...we can't put this on his shoulders," Snow refuted.

"I'm with Mom...if this falls to anyone, it's me. I'm the Savior," Emma added.

"You're also pregnant and your mother and I are done relying on you to fight these battles Emma," David argued, as he looked at the Goddess.

"We have the Chalice...we'll face him," he said bravely.

"That would be preferable and though you are both more powerful than any of my charges...we're talking about a being that not even Zeus could defeat," she reminded.

"Zeus didn't have true love's magic," Snow reminded in return.

"We still need to assess the lengths of Bobby's powers," Regina said, as Snow and David looked at her incredulously.

"I'm just saying that if he really has some hidden power, there are ways to release it and it would protect him. I think we all know that Seth doesn't care if he's just a child," she continued.

"She's right…" Leo realized.

"And it's not like he'll be alone. We all have magic and we all helped take down Gothel. It might come down to that again," Emma agreed.

"I want to know about my powers," Bobby said, as he looked up at his parents.

"The mountainous region to the east, just beyond Bald Mountain is isolated and abandoned enough that it would be a good practice ground to test his powers," Hermes offered.

"I don't like this," Snow fretted.

"Me either," David agreed.

"Mom...Dad...I want to do this. It's okay. Emma was the Savior that broke the curse. Maybe I'm the Savior for this," Bobby told them and they knelt down before them.

"Sweetheart...your father and I do not want you burdened by such a weight on your shoulders," Snow said.

"Your mother is right...we never wanted Emma burdened with it either," David told him.

"I know...but it's okay. I know I'm still a kid, but all my siblings have a pretty clear path. Emmy is the Savior and the Sheriff of Storybrooke now. Leo has animals. Eva is a healer. Summer has her dancing. And then there's me. I want to learn more about my magic. I want to be a Knight...like you Dad," Bobby told them and David took a deep breath at that.

"If I have hidden powers...I wanna know," he added and Snow recalled the last time she was in a sleeping curse. She had taken that curse voluntarily to escape Jekyll and buy her husband time. And instead of the red room, she had spent her time during the curse in Morpheus' Temple, with her youngest grown son, who had only been a baby at the time. She had never received any good explanation at how that was even possible and now she was wondering if it was connected. Were Bobby's powers far beyond just that of wielding the element of earth? Had he used his hidden magic, even as a baby, to come to her while she was in the nether realm? Was Bobby meant to stand on the front lines against the strongest evil they had yet to face?

"If that's what you really want, sweetheart. I think I hate it...but I love you so much that I won't deny you what you want," Snow said softly.

"Me either buddy...but you have to know what's required here. You'll be training almost non stop with Regina, Aphrodite and probably Rumple in magic," David warned. He nodded.

"And when you're not learning your magic, you'll be with me or Fandral to learn the skills you need to become a warrior," he added.

"I'm ready Dad," he promised, as his terrified parents hugged him between them.

"Then you better get a good sleep, because we start bright and early in the morning," Regina said, as she disappeared in a puff of violet smoke. James and Aphrodite left next to return to their mansion in Storybrooke, while Leo returned to Arendelle and Eva to her home at the loft with Paul. Emma and Killian retired to their room in their apartment-like quarters in the finished basement, while Snow and David saw their youngest children off to bed, before retiring themselves. The United Realms was supposed to have been a new beginning, but it would seem that it had also brought some very new problems.

~*~

David gently put his hands on her shoulders, as she twirled her ring and stared out the window of their bedroom.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he offered, as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"This was not how this evening was supposed to go," he mentioned. She turned to him and sought comfort in his arms, as he cradled her head against his chest.

"Is she calling to you? To your darkness?" Snow asked.

"My focus is here...on you," he promised, as he kissed her tenderly.

"I just can't believe any of this is happening," she said, as she relished the warmth and strength of his body against hers.

"I know...I wish I could make it all go away. I wish we were still dancing the night away at our anniversary party, without a care in the world," he agreed. She smirked.

"But that's just not how our lives usually go," she joked.

"I guess not…" he said.

"I have never been a revenge driven person…" she mentioned.

"I know…" he said.

"But it's always been there. I bury it well, but it's there. The resentment, the anger, the urge to punish those that have hurt us or tried to keep us apart," she admitted.

"Snow…" he started to admonish.

"No Charming...I need to acknowledge this part of me, because now she is free and she is going to do some things that I will be very uncomfortable with," she continued. He sighed.

"Okay...I'll be honest too then. There is part of me that would feel great satisfaction if a few people that wronged you were made to pay for hurting you. Hell...there's a part of me that wants to deliver that justice for you and as much as I hate to admit it, it is stirring inside me like it never has before," he admitted.

"Your dark side...it wants free to be with mine," she reiterated. But he shook his head.

"I won't let him out...we can't go there," he promised. She sighed.

"As much as I wish that were true...I think we both know that it's only a matter of time before she finds a way. I know her, Charming...I know what I will do to be with you so I know what she will do to have you too," she reminded.

"You know it's not in me to leave...you can't ask me to leave," he stated. She nodded.

"I know...I was just so scared earlier. You know me...my first instinct is to run," she mused.

"Even after all these years...it's a hard habit to break. But just like it did not stop the Queen's evil back then...it won't stop it now. I know that running isn't the answer," she stressed.

"But I certainly did not think it was having our youngest baby stand on the front lines with us," she added. He sighed.

"I know...I hate it as much as you," he promised.

"But you and I will be there with the Chalice and fight right beside him," he added.

"Charming...this is a Titan we're talking about. Someone who is not just a little more powerful than Zeus was...but infinitely more powerful," she reminded.

"Zeus didn't have true love's magic on his side and as much as we don't like it, maybe that is the reason our children have magic. As much as we don't like it sometimes...I think we both know that this is destiny," he stated.

"You really think true love can defeat even him?" she asked. He smiled.

"I know it can...and it will. We will...together, as we always have," he promised. She knew it wouldn't be that easy, but she had faith in their love. It had been momentarily shaken, but she knew that there was truly nothing that they could not overcome and though the road ahead of them was likely very rocky, she knew that love would win. She melted into his kiss and he swept her into his arms. She smiled at him.

"It's late…" she reminded.

"I know...but it is still our anniversary and I intend to make love to my beautiful wife of forty years…" he responded. She smiled and bit her bottom lip at that. Even if it was just for a few hours, she would relish becoming lost in him and their love...

~*~

His subordinates wisely stayed out of his way, as he stomped around the courtyard of his dreary palace. They rarely saw him anything other than calm and composed so it was very unnerving as he was practically losing his mind over a child.

"This cannot be...no one rivals my power…" he growled.

"Sire...I doubt this brat could ever do that. He'll just be another in a long line of foes that you have vanquished," Mim boasted, but he glared murderously at her.

"You don't understand!" he snapped.

"That brat should not have been able to nullify my sonic spell...I once paralyzed Zeus with it. I would have killed them all years ago had it not been for some clever trickery on his part," Seth raged.

"He's just a boy...he can't be that large of a threat," the Queen refuted, but he glowered at her too.

"A boy that you are protecting!" he lashed out.

"He's my grandson!" she argued.

"No...he is the son of your enemies!" he argued in return.

"I don't understand...he's just a boy! He wields the element of earth and that should hardly be a threat to you," The Queen admonished.

"You are for the brat...I knew you weren't really one of us," Mim accused.

"Keep talking and you won't need to worry about being banished again, you old hag," the Queen warned.

"Enough!" Seth bellowed.

"It is not just his elemental powers that concern me, though I don't think you quite understand how powerful the element of earth truly is," he continued.

"Then enlighten us, my Lord," the Queen requested.

"To control fire or thunder is an explosive, with obvious strength and power," he lectured.

"Wind and water are often a more subtle force and wildly underestimated, for sometimes, they can be far more destructive than the obvious powerhouses of fire and thunder," he continued.

"And then there is Earth. It is more than moving rocks and shaking the ground beneath one. It involves the incredible ability to connect one's soul to the earth and move it at will. It is not normal magic that allowed him to do this. That's why he has no idea what he did!" Seth explained.

"Then what was it, My Lord?" Mephisto inquired.

"An ultra instinct...a hidden power that could have catastrophic repercussions for us all. The boy must die…" he announced. The Queen frowned and felt a spark of fear ripple through her.

"I don't understand...what is this instinct? And we cannot be sure that Bobby really has hidden power. He is the product of true love…" the Queen said, but he cut her off.

"The product of the truest loves and this ultra instinct connects him to his earthly element, which in turn will allow him to wield not just unprecedented magic, but all the elements," Seth informed. That shocked the Queen to her core as well.

"That will make his parents quite desperate to protect him," Mephisto mentioned.

"Indeed...he will not be easy to eliminate, so I expect you to exploit that angle if possible," Seth ordered and the other being nodded.

"And you…" he said, as he turned to the Queen.

"Whatever affection you have for this child had better not cloud your judgement. He must be eliminated before he comes into his full power," Seth warned. She swallowed thickly and nodded.

"I understand...you'll get no interference from me," the Queen lied, as the lot of them dispersed. The Queen walked away and Mim called to her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mim questioned. The Queen seethed at the other woman's intrusive inquiry. She definitely needed this one eliminated so she wouldn't be able to whisper in Seth's ear. She couldn't do it herself, lest she wished to incur the Titan's wrath, but she knew someone that would be willing to do so for her.

"I just unleashed my nemesis' darker half on this town and I suspect dear, sweet Snow is a mess over it. I want to bask in her torment, of course. Plus, I need to keep tabs on her dark side as well," the Queen said, simply, as she disappeared and reappeared inside Rose and Fandral's library. It was the middle of the night and the two guards on duty fell asleep at the wave of her hand.

In her time learning magic, she recalled seeing many books in Greek in the Dark One's library. And she recalled, upon using her magic to translate the title, one called Ultra Instinct. She had never paid it any mind, but now she needed to know what this was all about. She was almost positive that he wasn't telling her everything and educating herself on this might be the only way to save Bobby.

~*~

The last thing David remembered before falling asleep was Snow spooned against him, both of them bare and sated from some very passionate lovemaking. He held her warm body against his own, but when he suddenly felt the absence of her warmth, it startled him awake.

"Snow?" he called, as he opened his eyes and found himself in their bed, but not in their bedroom. Instead, the bed was in the a Temple that looked like Aphrodite's, the same surroundings that he and Snow had found themselves in the first time they met her. He got up and then quickly realized that he was still naked. He started to grab the sheet to put around his waist when he heard a voice.

"Mmm...no need to cover up. I'm very much enjoying the view," Winter purred. He turned to find her standing there, scantily clad in a glittering white negligee that left little to the imagination.

"Hello my love…" Winter purred.

"You're...I'm not your love. You're not Snow," he refuted with a quiver in his voice. She sighed.

"I am...and you know I am or you wouldn't be so hot and bothered by the sight of me right now," she mused, with a smirk, as she was enjoying his obvious reaction to her state of dress or rather lack thereof. He sighed in frustration and grabbed the sheet, before wrapping it around his waist.

"I know all the right moves with you, my Charming…" she said.

"Doesn't matter...I know what you want and you're not getting it," he refuted.

"Well, if I don't get my way with you...then that would be a first," Winter teased. He sighed.

"Okay fine...you want to play that way, then we will," he said, as he faced her.

"You're right...you are my wife and you're the part of her that wants revenge for all the terrible things that have been done to her and no one understands that better than me," he stated.

"I know...I know that part of you wants to make them all pay for me," she purred, as she caressed his handsome face and pressed herself flush against him.

"But it won't make you feel better. You think it will...but it will only leave you feeling empty," he argued.

"I would usually agree with that, except I'd never feel empty with you by my side. We deserve justice against those that have wronged us," she argued in return.

"Justice yes...but that's not the same as revenge. We get justice every day just by being together and so in love that no one that has wronged us can even comprehend it," he continued.

"That's what we've been telling ourselves all these years. Meanwhile, evil has never let up on trying to tear us apart. It's time we strike back against those that have meant us harm," she implored, as she took his hands in her own and then caressed her face.

"I know that there is part of you that agrees with me and that is warring inside you to get out. You need not fear your darker half. He means you no harm, just like I mean no harm to Snow," she added.

"But you mean harm to others," he refuted.

"Only to those that deserve it," she retorted.

"It's a slippery slope. When you're done serving up your own brand of justice...you'll look for other injustices to right and by then, the lines will be too blurry and our heart would too blackened. What is wrong would become right and there would be no returning from that," he warned.

"Our love would anchor us...I know it would," she disagreed.

"We deserve this…" she urged.

"Maybe...but that doesn't mean we should do it," he argued.

"Mmm...I've always admired your sense of righteousness," she mused, as she caressed his face and drew him into a kiss. He kissed back and his hands found their way to her waist, as she kissed him with wanton passion and almost aggressively. It was exciting and like always, she was like a drug to him. He was an addict that couldn't get enough and she was his drug of choice. He felt his darkness stirring in him in response and his eyes widened, as he quickly pulled away.

"No…" he refused, as he backed away. But she remained unfazed by his denial. She knew it was only a matter of time until she lured his darkness out, especially now since he had tasted her own darkness himself, even as he disappeared back to the physical plain.

"Soon my love…" she murmured.

~*~

Paul awoke in the middle of the night and glanced at the clock. It read three-thirty in the morning and he found Eva's side of the bed empty. It wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes his wife experienced insomnia, especially in times of great strife. It was because she felt things so deeply that often led to this. He got up and padded out of their bedroom and down the loft stairs. Sure enough, he found her curled up on the couch with her phone, listening to something and as he got closer, he realized it was one of those intrusive podcasts that had popped up in the last five years since the events in Seattle. Five years to the outside world of course and only weeks for them.

"And if you're just joining us, we're discussing the events of that day in Seattle. Who were they and was that really magic that we all saw? Many theorists have suggested they are not of this world, whether that means from space like extraterrestrials or another dimension, which actually seems much more likely. Many theorists are more interested in the why than who though. Why were they here and with that kind of power...should we fear them? Then there is the where. They disappeared five years ago without a trace and yet it is thought to be naive to think that the danger is over. Of course, the who is the question everyone keeps returning to and if you follow this podcast, then you know the theory I aspire to. I believe they are exactly who the tabloids claimed they are just weeks before that day. Snow White and Prince Charming. That's right. Fairy tales, people. Some say that's crazy. But is it any crazier than aliens or lizard people? Any crazier than those that believe the earth is flat or that we never went to the moon? I don't think so and neither should you. And before you say that the tabloids are hardly credible sources, I have it on good authority that some of their information came from the dark web. It turns out that this theory has been out there for a while, people. There is talk on the dark web that there is a place on this planet where these people...these fairy tale characters live. It's hidden by magic and it's hidden in Maine. That's right people...a town in Maine. So if you seek the truth like I do...then you'll join me next week for a live broadcast in Maine. That's right...from a little town in Maine called Misty Falls. Rumor has it that strange things happen in the woods around this extremely small town and word has it that the land of fairy tales is hidden near here. So join me and seek the truth…"

Eva looked up and saw her husband standing there. She looked at him sheepishly and turned the app off.

"Hi…" she said. He smiled at her.

"Hi...what are you doing?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep...so I decided to freak myself out more and listen to the crazies on the Internet," she replied. He sighed.

"Eva…" he started to say.

"Except they're not so crazy. Misty Falls is only seven miles from here! It's the town that Dad and Emma arrived in on the bus from Boston all those years ago, before they found their way to Storybrooke," she reminded.

"I know...but they're not going to find us," he promised.

"Stranger things have happened, Paul," she argued and he couldn't refute that argument.

"This Seth...what if he decides to destroy the barrier? I mean, he doesn't seem like the type that will stop at just ruling the United Realms. There's a whole world out there for him to conquer," she surmised. Damn...he hated that she was right.

"Maybe not...but whatever happens, we'll deal with it. But you will drive yourself crazy if you keep listening to those conspiracy nuts on the Internet," he chided. She huffed.

"I know...but seriously, once you start listening, it's hard to turn away. Like car wreck," she complained. He chuckled and took her hand, as he pulled her up.

"Be that as it may...you need to get some sleep," he said. She agreed and allowed him to lead her back upstairs to their bedroom. She knew he was right and they literally had to be ready for anything, for they had no idea what the next day would bring. With all that was facing them, it could literally be anything...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #AU #The United Realms #Rose Red #Fandral the Dashing #Dashing Rose #original season 8 storyline #Dark Snow #Dark Snowing #The Evil Queen #romance #adventure #family #Finding You Always #the epic continues

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