#and he didn’t go back to proper school until she died

[neuvifuri]

still obsessed with how alhaitham went to half a day of school as a child before begging his grandmother to homeschool him.

[minnesota-fats]

A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.

This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.

—

Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.

And that's another bonus to this job; Space!

He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.

It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!

A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.

He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.

After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.

Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.

“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”

Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.

The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.

“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.

The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.

Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.

The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.

Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.

“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.

Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.

“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.

Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.

“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.

“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”

Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.

Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”

“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.

“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.

Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”

Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”

Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.

“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”

“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”

Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.

“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”

Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”

Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”

“Birdy?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname

“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.

“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”

The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.

Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.

“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.

“Sorry sir, I was—”

“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”

Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.

Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.

Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.

Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.

Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.

Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.

Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.

Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.

Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.

Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.

Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”

“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.

“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.

—

I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (Chapter 1) Werewolf! Soap x reader

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until one day, he decides to knock on your door.

Warnings: this will be dark Johnny, he's a werewolf so in my fics they don't really have the same morals. There will be smut in the future, and this will be quite a slowburn.

PS. shoutout to @ceilidho for inspiring this Johnny fic, especially in the future you will see Johnny calls reader "kitty" and ceilidho absolutely came up with that amazing nickname and I love them for it :) Read their stuff for more Johnny fics!

You couldn’t remember the last time Emma had slept through the night.

She was always a restless little thing, even as a baby. She hardly cried during her first year of life, quiet as a lamb with her wide blue eyes and pursed mouth, squirming out of swaddles and cradles with a single-minded determination. Your wee old man, you used to say, always looking out at the world and finding it lacking. 

She didn’t get those blue eyes from you, though you wish she had. It was as if you weren’t allowed to forget him. 

Emma was curled around you like a cat, her dark hair sprawled across your pillow. She didn’t like to be alone at night, but that was common for baby wolves, always searching for the closest source of warmth.

You spent half your time researching, reading books like How to Raise a Wolf Pup 101, or Ensuring Your Child Stays Connected to Their Inner Animal and enrolling her into a mixed kindergarten, where pups and children co-mingled (usually) without incident. It helped that you had grown up with a werewolf, you could look at his early life and see the flaws in the way his parents raised him.

You always worried, worried that you weren’t doing as good a job as someone like her would, worried that you weren’t feeding her a proper diet despite the fact that you spent another good chunk of your time preparing raw meat to mix with her school lunch. She was so small for her age, but she had John’s spirit, all wild-hair and quick temper.

Today was going to be a hard day for you both. Today was the day of the funeral.

Emma’s great grandfather took a turn last week and died at a rather impressive age, considering his history. He was a charming old wolf, but back in the day had belonged to the underground fighting rings London used to harbor, where wolves and humans alike ripped each other apart in grimy warehouses and subway tunnels. You had a suspicion that he had involved John in it a handful of times, when Johnny was just a skinny teenager with bruised knuckles.

But Emma loved Grandpa Jack, and the funeral wasn’t going to be easy for her. She understood death in a way you hadn’t when you were six, hearing the old man’s heart stop from across the hospital lobby during your visit last week.  

Emma shifted against your neck, breathing in your smell. It was as comforting for you as it was for her , her hair tickling your nose.

“Emma?” You whispered, jostling her. “Emma, it’s time to get up.” It was already eight, and the funeral was going to be at ten. You needed a shower and Emma needed breakfast–nothing put her in a worse mood than skipping breakfast.

Emma grumbled, tucking herself deeper in the blankets. You smiled to yourself, sliding out of the blankets. “Fine, but you’re getting up when I’m out of the shower.”

She nodded, tucking her head under the pillows. In another life, John used to do the same thing, growling whenever you tried to wake him before ten. 

You had thought of him often lately. You blamed it on Jack’s death, the scary thought that John might actually turn up at the funeral–but Tom had reassured you that the last he had heard from John was that he was in the Middle East, a half a world away.

You undressed, laying out the neat black dress and ballet flats you had chosen the night before. You kept the door cracked, so you could keep an eye on Emma.

If Jack hadn’t been Emma’s grandfather figure, you would simply not go. John’s mother liked you well enough, at least, more than she liked her son, but you understood why he left.

Not enough to forgive him for it, of course, but that was probably because he spent one night with you, knocked you up, and then disappeared completely for four years. He resurfaced two years ago, reaching out to Tom, your brother and his best friend, by sending an expletive-filled letter about the violent and bloody years he had spent in the military. Tommy came to you first and asked if you wanted him to know about Emma.

That was the kicker. When you learned you were pregnant, you spent months and months trying to reach him, calling whatever high-ranking officer you could find–but they all said the same thing: John Mctavish agreed to have his life before the military erased in the records, therefore he no longer existed.

He had no intention of coming back. And he didn’t even attempt to contact you along with Tommy, the girl that he had grown up with, the girl that used to love him more than anything in the world.

Emma was awake by the time you were out and dressed, her eyes bright at the thought of breakfast. 

“Cereal?” She asked hopefully.

You opened your mouth to refuse, thinking of the sugar but then you remembered that she was going to have to see her grandfather’s corpse today. You shrugged, “Sure, Em, as long as you have eggs too.” Emma nodded eagerly. She had the appetite of a grown man, and wasn’t particularly picky–something you were grateful for every day. 

She was quiet as you cooked, her eyes focused on your black dress. “Do you think Grandpa Jack is going to haunt us?”

You paused, halfway through flipping a fried egg. With Emma, it was best to really think about your answer. “Well,” you said, gesturing for her to start on her plate of raw, sliced liver. “Do you want him to?” “I think so. He could just stay in his armchair like he always used to,” Emma said thoughtfully. “We should leave one of his books out for him, just in case.” Her obsession with ghosts started when bloody Tom let her watch one of those cheesy ghost-hunting shows. Instead of being terrified, she found it exciting, the thought that people can remain even in death. 

To tell her that Grandpa Jack wasn’t going to prop his ghostly specter up on your ratty armchair and read his ancient western novels would break her heart. So you nodded, scraping two eggs onto her plate with the liver. “Alright. We’ll pick one before the funeral. I’m sure he’ll need a break from your cousins bickering by now.” She smiled and dove into the liver. It was good for her, of course, the vitamins and the minerals in organ meat, but that didn’t make you any less squeamish watching your child tearing into the raw flesh. 

Your own breakfast was a cup of black coffee and nerves, your stomach twisting into knots. He wasn’t going to be there, you told yourself. He had stayed away for this long, your idyllic little life with your daughter and your job at the library wasn’t going to be interrupted by the man that had abandoned you.

You didn’t want things to change. You didn’t want him here, in your space, with your daughter that you raised alone. 

Jack and Tom had helped of course. The old man had done his best to teach your little girl to not chew on the furniture or chase the squirrels up the tree, and your parents and Tom spoiled her endlessly.

Emma helped you wash and dry the dishes, nuzzling your hip affectionately. “You smell like you did when you went to work at the book place,” she said, sensing your anxiety. “How come? Do you think Grandpa Jack’s family’ll ruin things?”

Jack’s family, not John’s. You hadn’t told her much about her biological father, and Emma was observant enough to understand that he wasn’t ever going to be around. It didn’t seem to bother her, she had enough males in her life patting her head and teaching her how to play rugby.

“No, of course not, bear,” you said, tweaking one of her dark pigtails. “I’m just…I’m really sad. I’m going to miss your grandfather.”

She nodded, her mouth pursing in that mournful way she did when she was a baby. Back then, you had convinced herself it meant that she somehow knew her father wasn’t there, that you were doing this all alone and she knew you would fuck it up. “I still smell him in the living room.”

You kissed the soft crown of her head. “I know, bear, I’m sorry.” Together, you picked one of his Louis L’Amour novels off your rickety little bookshelf. “This was the one he was reading,” Emma said, carefully opening it to the page he had dog-eared. “We’ve got to remember to turn the pages every day, Mommy. He always reads so slow.”

“Once in the morning and once in the evening,” you agreed, patting the worn-down leather. His imprint was still in the cushions, a big, tall man worn down by years of violence.

You were going to miss him. He had come to your door shortly after Emma was born, a suitcase in hand. “I’m moving in, love,” he said. “She’ll need a wolf in her life and I’m all you’ve got.” You could have cried with relief back then. He had had such a way with her, always shushing her cries by cupping her in his big, callused hands and bringing her to his barrel chest. 

“I raised Johnny and fucked it up,” he had said, following the tiny whorl of her ear with the tip of his finger. “I’ll do my best to help you with her, pup, you loved my boy more than he deserved.”

You helped Emma into her frilly black dress, the one Jack had chosen himself. He wanted to buy her something nice, to be his darling little granddaughter for him one last time. 

She sat quietly while you braided her hair, uncharacteristically still. “Ready?” You asked.

She nodded, glancing one last time to the Louis L’Amour on the armchair.

Tom greeted the two of you at the door, a tall, skinny man that still looked like the stubborn big brother you knew. He had retired from the military last year to settle down in the house across from yours and got a job doing the only thing he really liked doing–which was cooking french dishes for eight hours a day and shouting until he was blue in the face. 

He smiled sadly, sweeping Emma up in a hug. “Hullo, bear,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You look dashing.”

“Grandpa Jack made me wear it,” she said, frowning disapprovingly at the ruffles on the sleeves. 

Tom laughed, but it was hollow, his eyes shifting to you before swiftly flitting away. “Of course he did. Here, I’ll watch Em for a bit if you want to mingle, Johnny’s mother was looking for you.”

Of course she was. Anxiety twisted deeper in your gut, the coffee bubbling up your throat. “Alright,” you said lightly, forcing a nod. “I’ll be inside if you need me, bear.” She nodded, turning to her uncle with a single minded purpose–to convince him to let her have some of the biscuits in the tin he had brought.

Susan, John’s mum, was sitting in the lobby of the funeral home, sorting the trays of casserole into neat rows. She was a thin, tired woman with the same blue eyes as your daughter.

“Susan,” you said, “I heard you were looking for me.” You opened your arms as she came in for a hug, her body brittle against yours. She had been sober for a few years now, mostly because you had refused to let her near Emma while she was drinking–which used to be every day.

“I need to tell you something,” Susan said, gripping your palms in a hard grip. “I just…I don’t know with Daddy gone now…” her eyes welled up.

You hugged her again, shushing her gently. “It’s alright, Susan,” you said, “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

Looking back, you were a right bloody idiot. Susan pulled away from you, joy sparking her face as she smiled. “Honey, he’s home.” Stupidly, you thought she was talking about Jack. 

She wasn’t.

The hair prickled at the back of your neck, your body aware before your brain could catch up. Your stomach twisted, dread spilling down your spine like ice.

He was behind you.

You refused to look, your eyes still locked with Susan’s teary gaze. “No,” you said quietly. “No, tell me you didn’t just let me walk into this.”

She had understood when you asked her not to tell John. She understood that her son had chosen war over you once again and that he didn’t deserve to be in your life.

“I’m sorry,” Susan said, squeezing your arm apologetically. 

A hand brushed against your shoulder, big and warm and so familiar it hurt. 

“Hey, bonnie,” John said roughly, his voice deeper than it used to be.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to see. 

You pushed away from Susan, looking up into the familiar face of John Mctavish. 

He looked ten years older, but no less handsome, scars turning his face into something you didn’t recognize, something like a predator. He was still keeping his hair in that stupid fucking mowhawk, but he had gained an impressive amount of mass, so tall and thick he looked like a stranger.

You couldn’t breathe. 

Johnny. The only man you’ve ever loved. The father of your child.

The man that took your virginity and abandoned you, all in one night.

“It’s been awhile,” he said, his accent twisting up his words. 

You blinked. 

Emma.

Emma was outside and he had no idea. You had to leave, take her away from him. 

“It could have been longer, John,” you said, your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” You pushed past him, suddenly grateful you hadn’t worn the heels when your knees gave a funny little tremble. 

He moved, as if to catch you, as if to hold you still while he came up with whatever bullshit excuse he could think of–but you were faster, putting the crowd and tables between the two of you as you made a break for the door.

Emma, Emma, Emma.

Tom was with her, her skinny knees in his lap as they split a delicate almond biscuit. 

“Mum?” Her head went up, sniffing the air. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

Tom knew. He looked at you, guilty as sin. “Love,” he began, but you were already ripping her out of his arms, her arms and legs flailing as you made a break for the parking lot.

The funeral home’s door burst open, slamming against the wall with a crash that had you shoving your daughter into the back of your car, utterly deaf to her squawking. 

But John had already seen her. Smelled her. He stood in front of you, frozen in place.

“How old is she?” He asked, deadly calm. His blue eyes burned, like they used to when he was a teen, hormonal and angry. Always so angry.

“Go fuck yourself, Mctavish,” you snapped, reaching for your door. 

He was already there, hand slamming against your car door with a crack that split the air. Johnny really was different now, confidence stiffening his spine, his sheer size making you take a step back. 

What did they do to him overseas? He looked like he was about to eat you alive.

“No,” John said, sounding like a wounded animal. “Ye wouldn’t keep something like this from me.” “You’re right,” you said coldly. “I wouldn’t have. Then I spent three years of her life waiting for you to get your head out of your fucking arse. I called. I emailed. I sent a hundred fucking letters.” He made a noise like you gutted him, his eyes going to Emma.

She was curled up in the back of your car, wide-eyed and staring at John. Her father.

Of course she would know. She could smell it on him, her own flesh and blood.

“I…I didn’t know,” John said, “Hen, look at me-”

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years. Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you. 

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

You ripped your door open, and he let you. You put the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot, and he let you.

“Mum?” Emma said cautiously. “Mum was that…”

“We’ll never see him again, Em,” you said, utterly sure of that fact. “Forget him. John always runs.”

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Eight

You and Ellie grow closer in Joel's absence. Jackson holds its breath for the return of the second expedition.

Words: 6k

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, angst, no smut I'm sorry

A/N: So this is the last big chapter of Touch. I'm planning a smutty epilogue because these two need a proper send off, but the main storyline ends here. Just want to thank you all for your support of this story, which was my first foray into writing fics for a long time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Part Seven | Series Masterlist | Epilogue

You and Ellie fell into a routine of sorts, occupying yourselves while waiting for news. In the morning Ellie would go down to the stables to ‘check the horses’, which you knew was code for her looking to see if Joel had slipped back into Jackson overnight, but he was her dad, and you didn’t begrudge it. You hated when she came back with her shoulders slumped.

Ellie had already decided she didn’t have to go to school given the circumstances, and you had no authority to fight her on it. Occasionally you would mention that Joel probably wouldn’t be pleased when he got back to discover she’d missed classes, and she had been so dismissive of the very idea that it took you right back to eighth grade, trying to hang out with the cool kids and being summarily ignored. You were basically her roommate. Roommates don’t nag each other to do their homework.

You were doing your own maths, anyway. If Marla had ridden through the night with Jacob strapped to her back it meant that the site of the ambush was a two-days ride away at a normal, non-life-threatening pace. It also meant it was a two-day ride back. If they encountered any nastiness on the way there or the way back that could waylay them for a few days, maybe more if there were injuries. And then, of course, there was the infinitely more complicated mathematics of how it would tally if they died. You weren’t sure what you would count, if that happened, if it wasn’t the days until they came back.

You wondered, if none of them made it back, where you would go. You would obviously have to leave Jackson, the destruction you, Ray and Marla wrought on the small community complete at that point. You just weren’t sure where, in which direction. Salt Lake sounded bad, and you were getting tired of the cold. You wondered if you would be able to make it down to the Gulf of Mexico, if you just headed south for as long as you could until you hit ocean. You knew it was unlikely you would be able to do it on your own, and you also knew that you would have to. That at the end of all this it was always going to be you, alone.

It didn’t hurt to think about. You were matter of fact about it. If they didn’t come back, you didn’t deserve to stay. You were pleased with the almost complete detachment you felt at the thought of it. At the freedom.

--

Maria and Robin dropped by while you were teaching Ellie the muscles of the back and neck, in the hope that she would have some kind of education upon Joel’s maybe-return. She was good at it, too, getting the hang of the Latin despite the language now being even more dead then when you leaned it. When they arrived, Ellie took Robin from Maria and cradled him in her arms, Maria showing her how to support the head while he dozed. For the first time since Ellie had arrived she was still, quiet, over-awed by the tiny, precious life in her arms. You took Maria into the kitchen and poured her some tea.

‘This takes me back,’ she said, and you grinned at her, offering to massage her feet. She demurred. ‘You don’t need to see what I’ve got going on under here,’ she said. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen it for months.’

You knew that Maria was checking on you, and you loved her for it and hated that she had to do it. Robin was only weeks old, barely a month, and yet she was nurturing you. You had barely seen her since the birth, since she had made you feel so necessary, so wanted, and your cheeks burned at the thought of it. The last two friends you had ended up dead or banished. You were just bad at it.

‘Hey,’ Maria said, like she could read your mind. She reached out and put her hand on yours, warm from the tea. ‘It must be weird…no, awful, to be the one left. I can’t imagine.’

You weren’t going to cry in your kitchen with Ellie in the other room holding Maria’s baby. That just wasn’t a thing that could happen. You swallowed hard, heard your jaw click under the strain.

‘I really like Ellie,’ you said, pain blooming from your temple into your eye socket. You consciously stretched your jaw, your hand over your mouth to try and cover it.

‘She’s a good kid, been through a lot,’ Maria agreed.

‘She’s a good distraction,’ you said, and Maria smiled at you.

‘I want you to know you have a place here,’ she said, and you wondered how she always knew the right thing to say, wondered if she could actually hear your thoughts. ‘Tommy…and me, well both of us, Tommy’s worried about you because…not just because of the expedition and the pharmacy and all of that going wrong, he’s worried that…’ Maria gathered herself for a second. ‘He’s worried that you only think of yourself in terms of what you can offer other people.’

You felt the sting of it, the little nerve Maria had unearthed, opened up to the chill of the air. You flinched away from it, but she was still holding your arm, and you realised you hadn’t noticed she hadn’t yet let you go. ‘Listen,’ she said, but kindly, and so you did. ‘When you came here, and we made you stand in front of the town council and basically said you could only stay if you contributed to the community…’

‘I understood that was how it works, of course it does,’ you said, and she raised her hand to shush you. You obeyed, again. She was growing into this mother thing.

‘I realised, we basically told you that all you’re worth to us is what you can do for us. Yes, its important everyone can contribute because that’s how we keep the place running. But I need you to know that’s not your value. I need you to know that.’

It was getting really hard not to cry. You could see her eyes misting over, her mouth in a grim line to bite back the tears. ‘I asked you to help me, to help with Robin, not because I wanted you to do something for me. It was just because…I just like you, is all.’

You didn’t even really think about it, you just grabbed her into your body and held her, and you felt her shaking a little, like she had been so terrified to tell you, and you didn’t want the Gulf of Mexico. You wanted her in your kitchen and Ellie in your loungeroom with Robin. You wanted Tommy chopping wood or storing coal or doing whatever the fuck manly shit needed doing around the place. You wanted Joel standing in his socks at the counter burning the toast and swearing under his breath about it. You wanted what you had always wanted, which was just to belong.

You pulled back from Maria, rubbing furiously at your eyes. She wiped the tears from hers.

‘I like you too,’ Ellie said, from the doorway, and you both startled, which made her jump a little, which jostled Robin, who delivered several pointed arguments about his thoughts on the experience.

‘Fuck, sorry,’ Ellie said, the panic written all over her face. ‘Oh fuck, I said fuck,’ she said, looking at you for help. You looked to Maria, who regarded you both with an amused expression on her face.

‘You two are as bad as each other,’ she said. She took Robin from her, and Ellie settled down at the table. For a second there was just the sound of Robin, grizzling in his mother’s arms.

‘Hey, Maria,’ Ellie said, lifting her hand to point to the muscle at the side of her neck under her ear. ‘Levator scap-yew-lay’ she said. You applauded her; genuinely, warmly, proudly.

--

You weren’t really ready to emerge from your cocoon, would have stayed hermitty and weird forever, except that Ellie wasn’t having it. For one she couldn’t sit still in the house for days on end, but she was still only fourteen and the idea that something might happen to her because you let her go out while you let yourself rot on the couch was even less palatable than having to be social.

The first time she took you to the mess hall you felt the anxiety at the bottom of your lungs, your sternum feeling like it had shrunk in your chest cavity. You were convinced people were staring, resentful of you and all that you brought with you. You didn’t want them to worry for Ellie, didn’t want them to wonder how you were going to corrupt her, end up with her dead or thrown out of the gates. You wanted to sit at one of the back tables, but Ellie was determined not to make any of it easy on you, and steered you over to the main table, the long one in the middle of the room, where a bunch of townsfolk were already chatting. You joined at the end of the row, feeling how you retracted into yourself, feeling your shoulders round over. Ellie sat opposite you and smiled at you, brightly. You realised she was treating you like some kind of project, a rehabilitate-the-crazy-lady experiment, maybe some kind of pet.

‘This is the soup they had the other week,’ Ellie said, gulping it down so fast you were worried she’d give herself indigestion. ‘The chicken one? Do you remember?’

You had no idea what she was talking about, and you stared at her.

‘I brought it round with half the loaf of bread. The kitchen ladies did not want me to have it. So, I swiped it while they were washing up.’

You felt something heavy roll in your stomach. ‘That was you? You brought the food?’ you asked, and you weren’t sure if – when you were finished being flawed – you were disappointed or relieved.

‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’ she asked, and you shook your head.

‘You didn’t leave a note or anything,’ you explained, feebly.

‘I guess not,’ she conceded.

‘I thought it might have been Tommy,’ you lied, unconvincingly, but Ellie wasn’t paying attention.

‘I mean, you were close. It was Joel’s idea,’ she said, and what you now realised was a full-sized boulder turned again in your gut.

‘It was?’ you squeaked, and she nodded into her nearly empty plate. You pushed your soup around, your mind trying too hard to digest this new information to turn itself to eating.

‘Did he say anything else?’ you asked, but you were interrupted by Tommy bursting into the mess hall, his eyes wide and scanning over the crowd.

‘They’re back!’ he called, and several people immediately rose, hustled for the door.

‘How many?’ someone yelled back, and Tommy nodded, but there was something wrong, something grim on his face that you didn’t want to acknowledge, didn’t want to even consider.

‘All of ‘em,’ he said, but then he faltered, and swallowed hard, and you knew, then, were already getting to your feet. ‘Some of them are in a bad way,’ he said, and he was looking at you and then looking at Ellie, and you were tucking her under your arm as you pulled her towards him at the door.

‘She shouldn’t see,’ he said to you, quietly, and you shook your head at him.

‘Try and fuckin’ stop me,’ she said, before you’d even had a chance to speak. He sighed, but you were past him then, your arm on the door pushing it open for her, shoving her through first.

--

The infirmary was only three rooms connected by a short corridor, and in times of serious outbreak or multiple injury it was woefully understaffed, under resourced.

There had already been some kind of make-shift triage for the returned residents, two of the men assigned to one room since they only needed looking over and could then be let go, but Dougie told you, pulled both you and Ellie aside to murmur in your ear, that Joel had his own room. The one next to the surgery.

‘Is he dead?’ Ellie asked, and if you didn’t know her as well as you now did you would have mistaken her bluntness for coldness, for desensitisation, but you knew instead that she was steeling herself, that if there was going to be pain she wanted it now, fast and hard, to rip into it with bared teeth.

Dougie shook his head, and you exhaled for maybe the first time, ever, in your life.

‘He’s not in a good way,’ Dougie said, but Ellie was already marching down the hall to see him, and you were already trailing behind her, your head over your shoulder to offer Dougie your whispered, harried thanks.

But you stopped when you got to his door, let Ellie slip through without you, suddenly considering that you could be intruding, that he had no interest in your being there, didn’t even know you’d been caring for his daughter while he was gone, or that she had been caring for you. You didn’t even really know him, weren’t sure how you felt about him, weren’t sure that you wanted to see him bleeding and broken, weren’t sure that you could handle not feeling his touch on yours again, his whispered encouragements as you came undone underneath him, the rise and fall of his chest under your ear as you both fought back sleep to stay awake together for just a little bit more increasingly precious time.

You’d marched down to the infirmary without even thinking about it, and now you were trapped in thinking too much about it, and what if he woke up and was angry at you again, found something else to throw in your face, and had you forgiven him for that or did that not even matter when he had nearly died, did arguments and anger and hurt just become nullified when the other person endangered themselves to protect you and the community you lived in, because that seemed like a dangerous precedent, and-

Ellie wrenched the door open and stared at you, paralysed, three steps away.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she said, reaching forward and pulling you in. ‘Get the fuck in here.’

It wasn’t like the movies. There wasn’t a beeping machine, a screen counting out his heart rate, his breaths. He had a little tube up his nose feeding him oxygen but he wasn’t in a white gown, wrapped up neat and tidy under a woven blanket. He was lying, still in his boots, crooked on an old, rusted gurney. Your eyes travelled over him, taking stock; the left eye swollen shut, the abrasion to the cheek suggesting a fractured orbital bone, the red and purple swelling across his brow and up to his temple. The blood under his fingernails, the makeshift splint trying and failing to straighten his obviously broken wrist. You stepped forward and opened his shirt, scanning for more injuries across his skin, found a deep gash in his side and countless bruises, something mottled and purple underneath his ribs. Like he’d been kicked while he was on the ground, while he was already down.

You felt a flash of anger, tears spilling over your cheeks. He was out cold, pale and shivering, and you raised your hands to his midsection, felt the wound there, deep and angry and so close to his spleen.

‘We checked him already, he’s not bit,’ Dougie said from the doorway, and you wiped at your face, set your mouth in a line, intended to turn and address him but couldn’t move from Joel. You felt Ellie standing at your shoulder, observing you as you checked him over. ‘He’s going to need half the supplies they brought back with them,’ Dougie said, laughing a little as if this was funny.

‘They got them?’ Ellie asked, and Dougie nodded to her.

‘Some are dangerously expired, but others are just…expired,’ he said. ‘I gave him some of the morphine, even though he was already out.’

‘He has a head injury,’ you pointed to his collar where dried blood was staining the pillow brown. ‘Are you sure that’s safe?’

‘I stitched him up,’ Dougie said, defensive. 

‘What if there’s internal…’ and you stopped yourself then, because Ellie was in the room, and her eyes kept swivelling back to Joel, back to his body, back to the blood. ‘The mottling,’ you said, without further explanation, in the hope that Dougie had managed to find that part of the textbook.

‘We don’t have many options, if there is,’ he said, and you felt yourself get woozy.

‘What have you done so far?’ you asked, and Dougie just stared at you for a second, and you were going to throttle him, actually kill him in this place of healing, if he didn’t answer at least one question properly in the next twenty seconds.

‘We can give him a transfusion, keep his blood pressure up.’

‘Tommy,’ Ellie piped up. ‘They’d have the same blood right? They’re brothers.’

You nodded at her, and she ran from the room. In her absence, you turned to Dougie.

‘Tell me,’ you said, simply, and he sighed.

‘It’s a wait and see game,’ he said. ‘If there’s serious internal bleeding we’d need to operate but…’ you looked around the room, observed the notable absence of a sterile field.

‘I can’t,’ you said, and you weren’t totally sure what exactly you were referring to, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Joel stirred in his sleep, just enough for you to swivel around to him, plant yourself down on a chair and grab at his hand.

‘Joel,’ you said, not sure if he could hear you, hoping he could, hoping he wasn’t in any pain and knowing it was impossible that he wouldn’t be. ‘Joel, I have Ellie, and she’s doing so well,’ you said, murmuring into his unresponsive face. ‘I have her, Joel, so you just rest, OK? You just get better.’

You reached up and gently, carefully, put your hand in his hair, rested it over his right temple, seemingly more intact than the left.

‘We just need you to get better, Joel,’ you said. ‘We all do.’  

You thought for a second you heard a grunt under the gentle rhythm of his breath. ‘Be OK, baby,’ you said, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his. ‘Just rest, and be OK.’

--

Tommy’s transfusion raised Joel’s blood pressure, which was good but also indicated that he had lost a lot of blood. Dougie showed you how to check his blood pressure manually with a cuff and a watch, and you kept an eye on it every hour. If it kept dropping, there was likely internal bleeding.

It remained stable through the night.

What had happened out there became clearer as the morning progressed, as the other riders were patched up. The group from Jackson had managed to find the pharmacy, had cleared it out and secured the perimeter, before turning back the way they came.

The remaining raiders, those who had managed to escape their pet clickers, had been tracking Marla’s path back to Jackson. They had seen how well-equipped Marla was, how strong Jacob had been, how well he had been able to muster up a defence. They’d figured that meant they were well fed, well stocked, that there would be somewhere worth pillaging if they could get to it.

They were young but they were clever, probably only just born on outbreak day, and they’d managed to circle the group before Joel had noticed them. He’d shot one of them point blank, rearing his horse back to try and get to the others before they could clock what was happening, but the younger men had been quicker. He’d fallen from his horse, or maybe shoved off, it wasn’t clear in the chaos, and they’d tried to drag him, pulled him by the arms away from the group, stomped on his ribs a few times. He’d fought them the whole way, scoring a couple of gashes to his chest and abdomen in the process. It was only when the dust had settled, when the three raiders were dead and Joel was struggling to mount his horse, seemingly unable to coordinate his limbs, that they noticed the blow to his head. He’d been woozy, then, stumbling over his words, but they’d managed to get him upright on the horse enough to limp back to Jackson. They’d almost made it back when Joel blacked out completely, falling forward into his horse’s neck and not sideways, this small stroke of luck possibly saving him from an even worse fate.  

You listened to all of it, this breathless retelling of actual and near death. You could hear, even through the exhaustion and the pain, the awe the second expedition party held for Joel. That he had seen the raiders, maybe heard them, maybe smelt them, that he was so fast on the draw, so accurate with his shot, so quietly deadly. That he had gone down swinging. That he had come back up.

These stories drifting down the hallway to you, to where Joel lay. Your eyes raked over his body, his wrist now properly splinted and bandaged, his wounds sewn up. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aided by the expired morphine, but he tended to come back to the world fighting. The first time he’d nearly knocked Ellie off the end of the bed, had ripped the breathing tube out of his nose so hard he’d permanently bent it, had been wild eyed and terrified and so lethal, so deadly, as you grabbed his face and turned it to yours, told him where he was, told him who he was, while Dougie injected more drugs under his skin. After he had slipped back under, you liked to imagine that before the drugs he had been relieved to see you, that you had eked out a measure of comfort for him, that he knew you were there, that he wanted you to be.

The second time you sent Ellie away. It was late and Joel was finding new and creative ways to swear the infirmary into the ground, and you could sense the worry in her. You reassured her you’d stay with him, that you didn’t need anything to eat, could sleep in the chair by the bed. That she shouldn’t have to see this, that she didn’t need to hurt herself just to keep him close. You would do that for her. You would reach into yourself and carve away a space for him. Keep yourself hollowed out and aching, should he decide to make a home between your ribs.

You had already decided that when he woke properly you would leave him there, go and get Ellie and Tommy. Not intrude on the family. Go and sit in your little kitchen and run your fingertips over the kitchen table, let the wood grain catch on your skin, scrape the cells from you where you had held his hand.

You didn’t expect to sleep, so you startled awake, confused and aching in places you didn’t know you had from the stupid fucking chair, when Joel stirred again. Judging by the darkness it could only have been 3 AM, maybe 4. You steeled yourself for whatever destruction Joel was about to bring down on his own sick bed, lifted his hand in yours to your cheek, rested your face in his palm, hoped the weight and the heat of it would settle him, would ground him. You heard him clear his throat. This time, however, he was just exhausted, just himself.

‘I can go,’ you offered, too quickly considering he was still orienting himself, and you cringed, started to backtrack. ‘You’re in the infirmary,’ you started again, collecting yourself, watching his face for any hint of fear, any hint of anger.

‘Ellie,’ he croaked, his voice dry.

‘She’s staying with me, she’s OK,’ you said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and then pausing, doubting, dropping it instead to the pillow.

‘Thirsty,’ he grunted.

‘Oh,’ you said, immediately snapping upwards and nearly knocking yourself out on the lamp over the bed. ‘Right, of course.’ Dougie had brought you water and a packet of dry ramen noodles approximately seventeen years past their use-by-date. You poured him a glass, cradling his neck to help him angle himself to drink it. You felt the heat of his skin on your arms as you lifted him. You didn’t think about it. Not at all.

‘Do you hurt anywhere?’ you asked, and he grunted at you. You knew it was a stupid question, and you tried again. ‘Do you want me to get Dou…the doctor, to get you some more drugs?’

‘Not yet,’ he whispered. You leant in close to him so that you could hear, and he fixed you then with a gaze sharper than anyone who had been unconscious for as long as he had should have been able to. ‘Makes me fuzzy and I want to…’ he trailed off, his eyes scanning your face.

‘I didn’t come to you about Marla because I think you’re a killer,’ you said, realised you had been waiting to say it to him, hoping he would wake up so you could finally set him straight. ‘I came to you because I knew you wouldn’t be cruel. I knew you’d do it well. Respect her.’

He lifted an arm as if he was going to cradle your jaw in his hands, but his face shifted into pain the moment he moved. You realised his ribs would be screaming in protest, and you grabbed his arm and forced it back to the mattress. ‘Don’t,’ you said, ‘it’s OK, I’m here.’

Joel turned his eyes to the ceiling, and you could tell that he was hurting. ‘I’m going to get you the drugs, you can’t just lie here like this…’ you said, standing up again. He grabbed your arm to stop you turning away from him, his grip strong, as he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

‘Ask me why,’ he grunted, through gritted teeth.

‘Why what?’ you asked, and saw the way he was bracing against the pain, felt a shot of frustration with yourself for prolonging it with your stupid fucking questions. ‘Why?’ you asked him.

‘Wanted to be a good man for once,’ he said. You sucked in a breath. ‘For Ellie,’ he went on, closing his eyes. ‘For you.’

You could feel something coming loose in you, a snapping of a hinge, the whine of a rusted and long-abandoned cellar door.

‘Joel,’ you said, because there wasn’t much else you could say in that moment, trying so hard to hold down the stirring turmoil in your chest. He held up his hand to stop you, almost waving you away, and you knew it was because it was hurting him to stay awake, hurting him to say it out loud, hurting him to hear you upset and not being able to soothe it for you. So much hurting in this bruised, bloodied body.

‘Let me…the drugs,’ you said, pulling yourself away from him, feeling his fingers grasp for you. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up,’ you reassured him, his eyes closed and his jaw tight. ‘I’ll be here,’ you said again, saw him nod, took the permission to finally, finally relieve him.

--

You weren’t there.

Couldn’t bring yourself to be, unnerved by the way his gaze snapped to yours, the way he had grasped for you, the way you felt the fracture of something vital, something that had kept you alive all these years. You sent Ellie in first thing in the morning, told her that he was calmer overnight and that you needed a proper sleep, set yourself up on the couch and tried not to think about it, tried to close your eyes and let sleep take you, felt it abandon you like you’d just done Joel.

You figured he wouldn’t remember it, what you had promised him, what he had said. The morphine would wash it away, would cleanse it from him. You would need to carry it, feel it sloshing around against your legs as you walked, but you were OK with that so long as it was only yours.

You busied yourself, cleaned up a little around the house because living with an un-housebroken teenager was a challenge in itself, went to the mess hall and bartered for a loaf of bread and a parcel of butter no bigger than a quarter, wrapped up in grease paper. That butter was going to cost you two massages but you knew Ellie preferred it, that without it there was so little flavour you could offer her.

You thought about going to Maria’s, thought about lifting Robin’s forehead to your lips and feeling his gentle, simple warmth thaw you out. But you worried Tommy would be there, that he would ask you why you weren’t with Joel, that he would ask you why had been, why you’d spent nearly three days at his bedside only to abandon him the second he was vaguely aware you were there.

You didn’t know how to explain. You couldn’t even get it straight in your own head. You wanted to cower from it, the strength of it, the weight. You took the back way back to your house, hoped you would slip out of everyone’s mind if you stayed out of sight.

Tommy was on your doorstep when you got there. Of course he was.

‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ he said, simply. You felt your shoulders drop, the defeat ripping up your spine, and you shrugged at him, your bottom lip wobbling.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ you said, simply, the six words that could kill you in an apocalypse. Tommy didn’t pretend not to understand. He took the packages from your arms, left you standing on the porch while he went inside and set them down. Came back out carrying a warm jacket for you and a cushion from the couch.

‘That damn ‘firmary chair is awful,’ he said, and you gave him a watery smile. ‘He’s askin’ for ya, so that’s what we’ll do,’ he said. You nodded at him. He took your elbow, led you down into the town.

‘It’ll be Spring soon,’ he said, making conversation, as you sniffed into the midday cold. ‘Jackson’s so beautiful in Spring, the wildflowers, the new leaves on the trees. You’ll love it.’

You nodded again, barely listening, wondering if you would ever be able to form actual sentences again. ‘S’new life,’ Tommy went on, ‘everything feels new. Like comin’ out of somethin’. Like a crack under the door where the light gets in.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ you said.

‘Which part?’

‘All of it,’ you answered, sweeping your arms in front of you.

‘Well, you gotta do somethin’, so it might as well be this,’ Tommy said. It occurred to you that Maria’s ability to drop truth bombs at exactly the right moment was rubbing off on Tommy. You’d need to have a word to her about it.

Tommy led you into the infirmary, as if you didn’t have the place mapped like the back of your hand at that point, and down towards Joel’s room. He stopped at the door, and you realised he’d come as far as he was going to go. You looked at him, hoping for some final wisdom that might push you over the line.

‘What if he’s mad at me?’ you asked, feeble and weak.

‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ Tommy said, one last time, and you finally understood. You felt prickling heat at the back of your eyes, but Tommy had the good grace not to mention it, not to try to comfort or soothe, knew that it would make it worse somehow, bring it too close. With a shaky hand, you pushed open the door.

Joel was propped up, awake and gazing out the window at the street. He turned to you as you walked in, and your breath left you. The swelling around his eye had gone down, he was already looking less purple and bloodied than the night before, was more alert, was more him. You paused in the doorway, took him in as he waited for you.

‘Hi’, you said, barely above a whisper. You were gripping your hands in front of you, shivering in the doorway. You waited for him to yell, to thrash, to chew you out for leaving him to wake up alone and in pain.

You didn’t expect his eyes to mist over, for his bottom lip to tremble. For him to be soft, for him to need you.

‘C’mere,’ he said, lifting his good arm up to beckon you, and you fell into the four steps to him, launched yourself at his bed, gripped him by the waist and lay your head on his good shoulder, ignored his sharp intake of breath as you jostled him. You felt the tears spill over, your face tucked into his elbow while he ran his hands through your hair, and he held you as you sobbed into him.

This time, you knew it was for all of them. For the entire balance sheet, for the grand tally. For your parents, for Marla and for Ray, for Maria who so very much reminded you of your sister, for nearly losing Joel, for Ellie tucked up in your bed pretending she wasn’t counting the seconds until his return. For the love you held for all of them, your collection of losses and grief, for the realisation that all this time you hadn’t been feeling the absence of love but the presence of it, its full force, that it hadn’t gone anywhere, that so long as the love stayed so did they, in just enough of a way to sustain you.   

‘M’sorry,’ you muttered after a while, trying to pull back. He held you firm to him, his chin on the top of your head.

‘Scared ya, I guess,’ he said, and you could only nod.

‘There’s so much that scares me,’ you whimpered, and he grunted his agreement.  

‘M’scared too,’ he said. You raised your head to look at him, to understand, and he gazed down at you. ‘This is somethin’. Right?’ he asked, his voice giving out on the question.  

‘Think so,’ you said. He smiled, warmly, down at you, lifted a hand to rub at his face.  

‘We did it arse-backwards,’ he said, and you waited for him to explain. ‘Haven’t even dated ya, and here we are clingin’ to each other like…’ He trailed off, and you weren’t sure how you wanted him to finish that sentence, were sure you just wanted to continue to rest your head on his chest while he spoke, wanted to hear the timbre of it, feel the resonance.

‘Like it’s the end of the world?’ you finished for him, eventually. He chuckled.

The two of you fell into a silence, a warm one, a silence filled with all the words you were going to get to say to each other, when the time was right.

‘Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?’ you asked, after a long while.

‘Don’t need you to do anythin’ more than you already have. Just be patient with me, baby. S’been a long time since I felt this’ he said.

You reached over and took his hand from where it rested on his belly, turned his fingers over in the grey light from the window, examined the cracks, the swelling, the cuts. You lifted a knuckle to your lips, tasted the copper across your tongue, the tang of it, the life under his skin.

Gently, so gently, you held him there, felt his pulse against your skin, felt his body give, the tension in his muscles unspool. Heard his breathing slow, his other arm gripping tight around you. You let your eyes drift close, not having to see him to know that he was right there, in this moment with you. That he was with you, that this was the two of you.

That you had his touch. That he had yours.

Taglist:

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[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

[specialagentlokitty]

Eddie Diaz x Daughter!reader - so much time

Hej do you think you can write a part two of Eddie x daughter reader - so much time? Maybe they still have some struggle in their father daughter relationship? - Anon 💜

Part two:

Throwing your jacket on, you grabbed your keys and stuffed them into your pocket as you made your way towards the door.

“Oh you’re going out?” Eddie asked.

“Going for a drive with some friends.” You said.

Eddie nodded his head, looking around a bit unsure.

“I thought with Christopher at school maybe uh.. maybe you and I could do something…”

“Sorry dad.”

With that you left and jogged down the street to where your friends were waiting.

Eddie sighed heavily, unsure what to do now, since that day a few months ago you two had gotten a little better.

You talked a little more, sometimes you’d have dinner with him, but other than that, there was not much improvement between the pair of you.

And although Eddie knew he wasn’t, he couldn’t help but feel like he was loosing his only daughter, or maybe he already had.

Sitting in the couch, he turned on the Tv unsure what to do with his day off now.

You on the other hand jumped into the front of the car and grinned at your friends.

“Not spending time with your dad?” Ryan asked.

“Why would I?” You asked confused.

“Thought things were getting better.” He shrugged.

You glanced over at him on the drivers side and you went back to looking as the houses passed your by.

“Is that why you asked me to take you on a drive?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him Ry, like sure we talk a bit more, spend a bit more time together but it feels weird.”

“Come on, he’s your dad. Surely it’s not that bad.”

“We haven’t had a proper conversation for years.”

“Shit…”

Ryan glanced at you and he sighed as he turned back to the road.

“I mean, at least he’s trying at least you know? That’s something.”

“I guess, but only cause I nearly died.”

“He loves you don’t be such a bitch about it.”

You slapped his arm and he laughed a little, grinning at you.

“Come on though, really, you can’t tell me you don’t want a relationship with your dad.”

“No of course I do, it’s just weird. Like, what do we even talk about?”

“School, his work, stuff you like I guess. I don’t know really.”

“Well, what do you talk to your mom about?”

“Everything.”

You nodded your head and went back to gazing out of the window.

You didn’t know what to talk to your dad about really, it felt awkward and neither of you really knew how to pick up where you left off.

“Come on man, it can’t be that bad.” Buck said.

Eddie looked over at his best friend.

“She literally leaves the house the first chance she gets.”

“She wants to spend time with her friends, that’s understandable right?”

Eddie sighed, nodding his head.

“Of course it is, but it’s like we don’t even know each other. I’m a stranger to my own daughter.”

Buck looked over.

“What happened between you guys?” He asked.

Eddie began to explain everything to Buck, to give him a picture of the whole story, from when you were a kid until now.

Now where you won’t even give him the time of day unless you didn’t have anything else planned.

Buck took a small breath and nodded his head.

“Message her now, just ask her if she wanted to get some dinner or something when she’s home.”

“She won’t.”

“Just ask her Eddie.”

Eddie picked up his phone and sent you a text.

Hearing your phone go off you pulled it out your pocket and looked at it.

Dad: do you want to go to your favourite place for dinner?

“He asked if I wanted to get dinner.”

“Say yes.”

“Why?”

“Oh just do it.” Ryan laughed.

You shrugged a little bit.

You: sure. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

You spent most of the day with Ryan, and instead of dropping you at home he dropped you off outside your favourite food place.

Eddie was stood waiting and he smiled when he saw you.

“Hey, good day?” He asked.

“Yeah, we just drove around really, spent a few hours at the beach.” You nodded.

Your dad nodded and opened the door for you, and you both sat down at a table.

And like every time it was just as awkward as ever as you waited for your food.

“How about we make this a weekly thing?” Eddie asked.

“Really? Why?”

Eddie sighed.

“I want to be your dad like I used to, where you’d come to me for everything.”

You nodded your head a little.

“I guess I could spare some time.” You smiled.

“Spare some time, really?”

“I’m a busy person dad.” You shrugged.

Eddie laughed a little.

“You spend your days going on drives and spending all your money.”

“Exactly, busy.”

Eddie smiled softly and you smiled back.

“It’s just… it weird you know? Like I know you’re my dad, but I feel like I don’t know you.”

“I understand it fully. And I know that’s my fault, I just want to fix it.”

“Same.”

Eddie smiled and handed you your drink as it came.

“So, tell me about school.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“That much huh?”

“There’s a lot of drama.”

You began to tell Eddie about school, and the awkwardness began to fade.

It was still there, but as you talked away Eddie had some hope that maybe things were getting a bit better or at least he hoped they were

[lingering-42-long]

The Last Goodbye

When they are Kia

Cod characters x f! reader

Inspired by MW3 and the tragic events that occurred this will be a three-part series if I do not get writers block lol.

So sorry for the not posting as much! It’s been a really crazy month and a lot of things had happened and caused me to have a bit of a depressive episode so thank you all for being super patient!

Warnings: mentions of death

John Price

You saw it on the news first before you got the visit. Your breath hitched when you saw the news of the air strike that had hit the base where your husband of 12 years was stationed at everything was decimated. And you couldn’t call or check to make sure that he was all right as he would not have his personal cell phone with him. It wasn’t until two days after the attack did two uniformed military officers showed up at your door holding prices old hat and SAS badge and dog tags. How they got them so quickly, you weren’t sure, but the news came like a sudden wave of cold water. “ we are so sorry for your loss.” One of the officers told you. The body would be arriving shortly within a week or so for proper burial you two had purchased side-by-side grave plots. And the will was already drawn up well before all of this had happened. John was a very precise man and always make sure to think 12 steps ahead. He knew his job was rough and he knew that at any moment he could drop dead. He made sure that his life insurance would be going to you, which was some relief sense the army didn’t pay much.

How to tell your daughter, that her father was not going to be coming back. What is the worst thing you could ever do to her young heart. She was only eight years old. She adored her father practically worship the ground. He walked on. She was always his little girl, and now the war stripped her of him. Stripped you of him..

When she came home from school, you had to sit her down. You held her hands, and with tears, you told the heartbreaking news. The young girl did not understand at first on why her father wasn’t coming back, and once again, you explained that he had died in action, and he would never be able to come home you’re a little girl started to cry, and when he tried to comfort her, she bolted from your arms and ran to her room, slamming the door, and she could hear her wails. You yourself cried yourself to sleep for the first few weeks all the way up until the funeral your friends and family members gathered around you doing everything that they could to comfort you and your daughter people were calling in every single day talking with you for hours on end, while other people stopped by to bring you food.

Every day it felt like a horrifying nightmare. The one that reoccurs every single time slightly more horrifying than the last. As you were going through your stuff and trying to decide what if his you wanted to keep and what of his you wanted to donate you noticed on your phone you had gotten an email from Kate Lasswell. She had sent a video to you actually several saying in the email that he wanted you to have this and gave her explicit instructions in case if he was to ever die.

Pressing the play button, you watched as his face appeared in the camera as he sat down and smiled at you. The way, his eyes twinkled and the crows feet around them creased. “ hello dove” he started at first and you had to pause the video because you were overwhelmed with the emotions. When you stabilized yourself again, you continued. “ I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you and I know that if you’re seeing this, it means that I have passed….. mission was going to be botched no matter what I just didn’t want to tell you the statistics at first…” he paused himself, as he seem to be collecting his words in his own voice was shaking “ I really wish I could come back home to you. I told you that this would be the last mission that I would do before retiring… I promise to take you out on that date that you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant.” he paused again, closing his eyes, and releasing out a large sigh.

“ I’m sorry I never got to take you…. I had so many plans to do with you and Alice… it doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get a chance to do that” once again, you had a pause the video so that you could take a minute to cry. The plans that you had with each other right now by the wayside. You unpause did it again, and continued on listening. “ I know right now you’re depressed.” he stated, folding folding his hands, and leaning on the desk in a slightly business fashion way. “ in the email that Kate sent you there is several groups that you can join that are for the spouses of the deceased militant partner. Please join one as well as make sure our daughter also goes to one for kids. She’s going to need that support… you both are.” he smiled again, but it was a Sad smile. “ I also made sure to have a college fund started for her. You don’t have to worry about it until she’s ready. There should be plenty of money for her to attend all the way up until graduate year as long as she goes to a decent university. Make sure it’s only used for that if she chooses not to go to university or to go to a less expensive one, you can use the money to buy her a car or whatever she needs to get her life started…. I’m sorry this had all come to this…. As you know I have set aside a life insurance, and the beneficiary goes to you. I also saved up a lot of my savings as well. Feel free to use it as necessary.” he knew that you were going to be smart with the money. “ He paused and looked at you “you are my beloved…. I’m so sorry my dove that you have to face this alone. Please take care of yourself. Find a husband that loves you like I did and a good father figure for our daughter.” This made him tear up. “I will wait for you in heaven and I will watch over you both. You mean so much love. No one or nothing can separate this love. The email that is sent to you also has several videos for Alice. For her birthdays, graduation, moving out to university, marriage and their child. I made sure to make a video for all of that… I also left many for you. Please don’t hesitate to just let me listen to you… I love you.”

The video ended and you sat in the chair, Thinking things though. He set life up for you and your daughter. He was still looking after both of you. You cried for a bit before getting up and knocking on your daughters door. Your little girl opened up with tears on her face. “Hey baby… daddy sent you something.” She sniffed as you picked her up and took her to your old husband’s office. After sitting down with her in his old chair, you turned on the next video. “Hey Angel!” John’s face lit up when the camera started you could see he had been crying. “Angel, im not coming home, it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s because I got called up to heaven. I want you to do something for me my sweet, I want you to watch over momma ok? She is going to need you and you are going to need her. He glanced up as if looking at you then looked back down at his daughter. “You are such a special little girl. I love you so much. Momma has the other videos for you to watch when you grow up. I’m so so sorry to leave you like this. I did not

I did not want to go. I know you were looking forward to see me and so was I… you are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He stated singing the song he sang when she was down or sad. “You make me happy, when sky’s are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away…. I love you my angel.” The video ended. Your daughter looked at you. “What now?” She asked. “Well… now we do what daddy said… we do our best to move on, but not to forget him. We will be OK.” You held her as you too watched the sunset fade beneath the horizon, a beautiful white dove landed on he window, cooed and looked at you before flying off into the golden rays of the pink sky.

Simon Riley

You were cleaning in the kitchen when you heard a knock at the door. Putting the sponge back in the soapy hot water. You wiped your hands and made your way to the door. Two military officers took at the door, Solum faces as they greeted you. “Hello can I help you?” You asked

“Mrs (y/n) Riley?” One of them asked.

“Yes that is me.” You looked at them worried.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Simon Riley was killed in action.” The officer said gravely as he handed you a box of his things.

You took the box with tears in your eyes. The men told you that his body was found and would be returning soon. You thanked them and closed the door as you held the box tightly in your arms and sunk to the floor sobbing. Your sweet Simon. He was gone, never to come home to you and your son. You knew it was a dangerous job, but it never really hit you till now. Your husband, the man that always let you take off his mask, the man that would cuddle with you at night and rub your back after a long day, the father of your 3 month old son who he would stay up late to let you sleep. He was gone, ripped apart from you. How were you going to tell your son about his father, the man who loved his son from the moment he was born. You cried on the cold floor till you fell asleep, still holding onto the box. You woke up to the sound of your son crying in his room. Getting up, you walked and a dead sonter to his room. Tomas your son named after your husbands brother, was crying in his cradle. Carfully you picked him up and held him close. He looked so much like his daddy, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin. “Shhhhh my love” you rocked your son with tears in your eyes. “Daddy isn’t coming back.” You stated as a hiccup got you. “He loved you so much…. He loved me.” You knew your son wouldn’t remember this but it was still so sad to hold your little boy and know he would never have a father and son bonding.

You sobbed as you held onto him. Tomas sensing his mothers destress, he quieted down and cooed. After a while you fed him and put him down to bed once more. You opened the box after sitting down with a hot cup of tea, ready to take on what you needed to. With a sniffle, you opened the lid to reveal his skull mask, the dog tags that he wore, his SAS badge, and a few other things. “Oh Simon” new murmured as you carefully picked up the mask and set the box down as he traced over the lines to his skeletal features on his balaclava. It smelled like him. That rich, earthy smell, that he always seems to have with a hint of gunpowder and bourbon. It was a lingering sent, but it was a good one at that. You held the mass close as you leaned back on the couch and close your eyes. You already missed him more than you did before maybe it was because you knew that you would never see him again, to have him be in the house and be present with you and your son. You would go on with your life fine you are a tough woman, one of the many reasons to why Simon married you, but it was your son that you were worried about. You wanted your son to have a father figure. A dad that he would learn to grow up and love. Simon never had that sort of dad, and had always wanted to be that way for his own children.

Now Simon was never going to live out his dream, and Thomas, your son, was never going to have that sort of special bond. I thought made you incredibly sad once more but no tears fell, your eyes were all dried from the previous crying. The weeks came and the funeral happened, your husband looked peaceful in his casket. You wanted some alone time with him first and held his stiff, cold hand. “ Thomas will miss you… I will miss you. You were my rock and shield. It’s going to be hard without you Si… I will always love you and miss you.” The funeral took place and it was a sad time. The team of 141, your family and friends helped with whatever you needed. Now, you were cleaning out things from your late husband. As you were cleaning out his bedside table drawer, you saw a note, folded up neatly. Curious, you unfolded the lined paper and read the words on the paper.

“My dear (y/n), Birdie if you are digging in my drawer then that means I have passed, the mission was botched… I’m sorry… I know Thomas is in good hands with you. Please don’t worry about money. My account will be given to you. As I am writing this, it’s late, you’re sleeping next to me. It’s the night before we leave… I am looking at you for the last time, taking in all your beautiful details. Your face is so soft in sleep, you look so angelic. I am going to miss you… I know you will miss me too… I’m sorry I haven’t said ‘I love you’ that much. I hope you know I cherished and deeply loved you. I still do. I know you are a strong woman, that is what drew me to you. I know you will move on. If you wish, find someone who can love you and our son just as much as I loved you. I will be waiting for you when you come. I will always be watching out for you. Please don’t let our son forget me. I want him to know how much I loved him and you. I love you my Birdie, my beautiful wife. ~Simon.”

You held onto the paper and cried. This was going to be ruff. You were going to be ok. A sense of comfort filled your mind and warmth flooded your body. “I love you my Simon” you smiled and the familiar sent of him wafted and you felt his warmth envelop you.

Gaz

when the news reached you, it hurt like 1000 tiny little daggers. You had just gotten married to Gaz, your Relationship was just beginning. The two of you had been high school sweethearts. Times had gotten tough for both of you and you broke off your relationship before time being until you rekindled it once again, realizing that he was the only person for you. You had only gotten married a few months prior and just had your honeymoon before he was shipped off. Four months he was gone. And he was supposed to come back in two, however, the letter that you received told a different story. He would never be coming home. His body was blown up so badly that they couldn’t find all the pieces to him. We would do everything that they could to get the majority of him back home so that there could be some proper burial. This broke your heart. He would never get to share the life with you that you too so desperately dreamed about, a small home, somewhere on the suburbs of London with a dog, and maybe a child somewhere down the line. That was your plan at least but now things have changed, and now your beloved was gone.

It had been a few weeks since the death, and the burial of what was left at him. You had moved back in with your parents for the time being. As you were cleaning up your room, doing the best to get over your grieving you noticed a note on your bed they have been delivered by your mother earlier. Carefully you walked up to the letter and looked at it. It was addressed to you by Gaz. A sense of panic swelled in your chest. Did he really survive? Or was this some cool trick that somebody was playing? Quickly opened the envelope, and you looked at the letter the date showing that it was a month ago that he had sent this; before his death. With shaky hands, you begin to read the chicken, scratch lettering, tracing over every word, and taking to heart as if it was the gospel.

“Hey Love!

Things are crazy right now! We’re going to be going into a city not too far from here. I’ll make sure to pick up some stuff for you. I know you’ve been wanting to decorate the house for a while and I’m so excited to see what sort of projects you’ve been working on? How’s the art piece coming? I remember you telling me that you wanted to start up painting again. We always had such a pretty drawings. I have no doubt that they’re not going to be beautiful. I hope you hang them on the wall for us to see. I miss you. A part of me wishes that you were here at least the part that isn’t the most violent. Unfortunately, we’re not in the best area we are being attacked left and right. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll be home soon! I promise I’ll fix the leaky faucet. I know it’s been driving you crazy. I I sent a letter to my folks, but could you tell them that I miss them as well? I want them to know how much I miss them, but I think I miss you the most. When I get back can we get a dog? Also, can we have like a full day of playing video games just with you and me? I know I sound like I’m rambling, but it’s just what’s on my mind recently. Late night cuddles with you while playing Mario kart. It just sounds so relaxing right now. I’m really tired. Well sweetheart, I better get to bed. I love you and I hope that you have an amazing day tomorrow and the next and the next after that.

Your Husband,

Gaz”

Hugging the letter, you cried your eyes out. Tears streaming down your face as you laid on the bed, holding onto the last remnant of what your husband left you. It sounded as if he was somewhere in a safer, better place. You hoped that he died quickly that he didn’t suffer and his last thoughts were good thoughts. A breeze drifted into the room from your open window and a warm bit of sunshine hit your cheek as the breeze drifted passed it felt like a stroke on your soft face. He was there sitting beside you, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel his presence. He was safe and he was watching over you.

Johnny McTavish

The news has gotten to you quickly. It was actually delivered by Price himself. You couldn’t believe it. Your Scottish highland your man was no longer going to come home to you. He was shot through the head. Taking a bullet to save a life. Your young son, John, named after his father, was going to be home from school soon the devastating news hurt you more than anything else out there. How are you going to tell your six-year-old son that he was not gonna have his daddy near anymore? Who was going to play football with him in the yard? Who is going to read bedtime stories? Who is going to play in the rain with him? Your son needed his father that boy looked up to his dad, like he was the sun, its self. The news hurt you hard calling his parents and his family was going to be hard as well if they had an already heard the news. He was close with everybody and his family and he had quite a large family.

The upcoming days to the Memorial as you wish to have been cremated, were hard and brutal. Everybody that you knew, and your friends and his family all gave their condolences to you and to each other he was loved and well liked by everyone your son took it hard he didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t coming home and cried and cried and cried it was like that for almost a whole week, he was doing so bad that you had to pull him out of school for the time being because he was unable to function properly. You did everything you could you hold him tight in your arms until he cried himself to sleep at night in which you also cried your own silent tears. You would go walk on the open, Highlands that overlooked the beautiful scenery where your husband, his father’s ashes, cast out upon the open landscape. A small memorial was placed there in memory. You would have picnics out there are frequently, simply listening to the birds call from high above and feel the warm sun cast It’s beautiful rays. They felt cold and dull to you, but you did your best to hold out for your son.

Cleaning out the closet with all of his stuff. What is your next task as you were taking some of his old stuff down you noticed a hard drive they had fallen out of one of his pockets with your name on it. Curious, you took the hard drive and you plugged it into your laptop. It open the file which had a video and it. You clicked play.

The video with your husband sitting on the couch in your living room, smiling at you “Hello my bonne Lass. if yer seeing this then ye know what happened and I don’t think I need ta say anymore abou tha’. I am so sorry that I cannot be with Yer. I love ye so much. I love our son John so much. Please remind hem’ every day how much I love him. Please play football with hem as much as ye can. Please read to hem every night fer me. I know it’s a lot ta ask with what’s going on but I think it might be good fer both of ya ta share tha’ quality time. I’m gonna miss ye both, but I’m always going te be with yer. I’m always going to be watching over mo little family. Don’t worry Lass, life insurance should cover a huge portion of everything. Hopefully it can help provide some security fer you and fer John. I also have tha’ university fund ye wanted me ta set up fer him. Let the money grow and add te it. If ye want by the time he turns 18 he can open that account. The files are actually in my cabinet on the right side of the desk. It has all the important paperwork and documentaries yer gonna need. I really wish I was there with ya Lass. I’m going to miss holding you at night and whispering I love yous.” His beautiful eyes stared right back at you with his stupid little mohawk and broad shoulders facing the camera. “ I know you got this, please don’t ferget about me, but I do want you moving on. Find a man that makes yer heart is happy to be with as it was with meh. I know it’s a lot ta ask for, and I’m not expecting ye ta get married right this instant… I want ta see ye happy I want to see you taken care of. I love ye, my princess.” he reached over to turn off the device that he was using, and the video ended abruptly. A new wave of tears hit your face as you laid your head on the desk and cried for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days. Your son came in the room and gently touched your shoulder. “It’s OK mama! Daddy’s going to be with us. He’s just going to be invisible.” he was quoting some thing that you had told him. When you had to break the news to John, you had told him that the angels up in heaven needed his daddy to help fight the battle up there because he was so good at his job. One day he would be able to meet his daddy up there as well. Now John had taken this to heart and there’s now quoting this in hopes to make you feel better. You carefully picked up your son and held him close to you. “ you know you’re the best against your father had ever giving me? When you were born, he had tears in his eyes and he was hugging you and kissing all over your face and just absolutely doting on you 24 seven. He told me how proud he was of you. He told me how proud he was of me. Those were good times.” Your son gently hold you tight in his own little arms. “ it’s OK mama will make it out together.” You could almost feel a kiss on your forehead as if…. As if your husband was leaning over to comfort you.

[anaslair]

Hiii, I wanted to give the match ups a try cause why not. I go by she/her and prefer to be matched with a male character, I’m also underaged. Oh and I’d prefer to be a demigod, personally I think I’d be the daughter of Hestia or maybeee Hephaestus or Apollo, idrk 😭. Anywaysss, about me. I loveee music/art/film, really anything creative, like I have a deep appreciation for them and artists. I actually used to go to a performing arts school. I also love nature and appreciate that as well. Like, I love going on hikes when I can and even just looking at the beauty of the nature wherever I am. I’m not really much of a sports person, like I love playing but I wouldn’t do anything professionally. I do martial arts though, which is definitely a biggg passion of mine. As a person, although it doesn’t necessarily feel like it to me, sometimes I’m pretty sure I’m fairly outgoing, at least more than other people I know. But I’m also the type of person to really open up and become more social and talkative the more you get to know me. Oh and final thing, I think I’m pretty books smart but not very streets smart, if you know what I mean. 😀 Anywayssss thanks for reading all of this if you did, it’d be really cool to hear back from you!! 🫶🫶

OKAY HEAR ME OUT!! HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE!!!!!!!!!!!

So, it’s not that well known, but Hestia is actually one of the virgin godesses of Olympus (like Artemis and Athena). But!!! We COULD pretend she has kids like Athena does 👀 ✨just because she wants to✨

Like, Athena’s kids come from her mind… maybe Hestia’s could come from her heart? Like figuratively maybe? She’s the goddess of hearth & home so it could kind of make sense? Pls bear with me this will go rlly well with who I’m matching you with so let’s just go with it 🤓

Also the nature thing UGHHH, I always had this head cannon that Percy became a bit of a nature activist after witnessing Pan’s death 😩😩😩 Anyway let’s get to it, I really hope you like this 🫶

Tysm for requesting!!! Have a great day <3

I match you with…

Percy Jackson!!

-Disclaimer-

The requester is a minor and so is Percy at this stage of the books!!

After the second titan war ended, Percy started to value some things way more than he did before it all went down

Not to say he was an ungrateful person, far from it. Percy really did have a heart of gold and often put his loved ones above his own personal needs. Loyalty was his fatal flaw after all

But there was just some things he felt he didn’t pay much attention to before the war, like Hestia for example. The goddess practically lived on camp grounds and he barely even acknowledged her before she saved him when he needed it the most, reminding him what was most important when everything was falling apart during the war

Or Pan. the god of the wild had practically died in front of him, telling him and his friends that the future of nature, of the world they lived in was actually in their hands. Everyone had to do their part for it to survive

He had to pay them back somehow, honor them

So that’s why he was THRILLED when the first Hestia kid arrived on camp after he made the gods promise they would claim all of their kids and send them to camp Half Blood, where all of the gods would have cabins for their descendants

This was his chance to pay back Hestia for her help!! So he promptly asked Chiron to mentor the new girl and teach her what she needed to know about self defense and sword fighting, since she was practically his age and had to survive until now with the mortals without proper training

In fact, how did you manage to do that anyway?

He didn’t really know, but he felt he was the best man for the job. His sword fighting skills were unmatched, only bested by Luke’s

So, not gonna lie. He was kind of waiting to show off his skills on your first lesson and help you with whatever you needed

He told you he would first show you some hand to hand combat moves before y’all could move on to sword fighting, to which you shrugged it out, being cool with it

Too cool even, you seemed super comfortable with it 🧐

“Okay. First, I���ll come at you slowly and you can try and stop the blow however you feel is right. This will be kind of a warm up to start things off. But don’t worry, I won’t actually hurt you, if you feel uncomfortable in any way, please let me know okay?” He said, smiling kindly at you while taking an offensive stance

You nodded, waiting for him to start

He slowly swung at you, being careful to not scare you out

Imagine how completely and utterly bamboozled he was when he found himself lying on the ground, the arm he swung at you now twisted and pressed on to his back, just enough to keep him on the ground

He was like 🧍‍♂️

And you were like 😄 so what’s next?

Bro what the fuck

That was honestly so impressive that when you offered a hand to help him get back to his feet, his cheeks where slightly flushed

He cleaned his throat, fixing his camp Half Blood necklace back into place

“Okay so I guess you’ve got that part covered” He said, giving you his signature sarcastic smirk

You let out a small laugh in response, explaining to him that you actually loved martial arts and that stuff came easy to you

He was completely fascinated, asking you to help him better his hand to hand combat skills after you guys finished

That was the start of a kind of chaotic friendship between the two of you. You helped him better himself in your area while he gave you sword fighting lessons

You weren’t really a fan of it but Percy was so talented and so patient while teaching you that you were winning sparring duels in no time

Y’all were a power duo in capture the flag for sure. You knocked people out and Percy wouldn’t let anyone get even slightly near you with riptide

You knew some strategies in theory from some books you had read and Percy knew how to put them into action

Iconic

You quickly developed a strong bond, getting closer and closer to each other every day

You always ranted to him about art in general, he didn’t really understand most of the things you told him but he always listened attentively, even memorizing some of your favorite artists to get you stuff related to them when he went home for the school year

You often hanged out by the lake, you absolutely loved how it looked when the sun hit it just right, with the trees reflected on it

One time, Percy took you to the bottom of it, putting an air bubble around you both so you could see how beautiful it was underwater

Your eyes shone bright at the view, but you frowned as soon as you saw a couple of plastic wrappers at the bottom

You asked Percy to lower the bubble so you could collect them and properly throw them out at the surface

That made Percy stare at you with such intensity and admiration that you wondered just what the hell you had done to get him looking at you like that

You avoided his eyes, ears tinted red

It was no secret that you had developed feelings for him, he was so sweet and kind

You wondered if he felt the same

Suddenly, his warm hand met yours as he slowly interlaced your fingers together

You looked at him, eyes wide

The smile on his face made his intentions pretty clear

[ahhhwomen]

Officer Hot

Trigger Happy AU

Part 2

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Tried to switch between pov and past/present some more with this one.  Also, this may be a calm chapter…. But let’s just say the tags aren’t for nothing… some true colors are soon to be revealed…

Thank yall for the love on part 1, hope yall enjoy (+｀∀´)b

Disclaimer: English is not my first language… all mistakes are my own

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI

Warnings Part 2: Slight stalking, impatient professor, thirsty reader

Summary: Officer Maximoff doesn’t like your roommate.

Word Count: 1357

You can’t stop. Your legs bounce under your desk, and your fingers tap a paced rhythm. You sigh in annoyance; you just can’t stop thinking about her.

/////

You had been extremely late to class.

The professor had stood there cussing you out for a good 10 minutes until he finally relented and let you sit down. When he was yelling at you, you were sure you would cry, but you didn’t. You didn’t even have to sniffle to keep the tears at bay, like when you were in high school and would tear up every time someone mentioned Mr. Wilford, your then-Spanish teacher.

It feels like you aren’t even here, your mind is hazy, and you can’t seem to pull focus. Your thoughts just keep drifting toward the redhead you practically ran from to get here. Had you known you would be late anyways, you might have stayed a bit longer. You liked her rich voice, the way she spoke with such authority.

She had stood so tall and secure when she spoke to you. Her green eyes, searching. The way she looked at you was so disarming, so… Hungry.

She had acted like she wanted to eat you alive.

…..What would happen had you let her?

The way her hot breath felt against your ear, the way she smirked at you. It was all a sweet form of domination. Would she be gentle? Would she pet your hair while telling you what a good girl you are as you kneel for her?

Or would she have fucked you right there, by the side of the road for her team, and any by-walkers to see? Would she wrap her hands around your throat and squeeze just the right amount? Or maybe she would leave bruises, show the world whom you belonged to-

“Hallo?”

You almost jump out of your seat.

Looking around with wide eyes you realize you are the only one left in the classroom, save for the professor. The professor that is continuously waving his hand in front of your face. Realization washes over you and you almost smack your head into your desk in embarrassment. Before he can question you, or yell at you, about what the hell is wrong with you. You hastily pack up and leave with a quick sorry thrown in his direction.

You feel flush, never had your fantasies taken you down that road. Especially not with a complete stranger. Your thighs rub together as you walk down the corridor; an uncomfortable amount of wetness was accumulating.

You feel a bit guilty as you wonder what the issue was. Maybe something really bad had happened, maybe someone had died. You chew your lip, nervously. Was there a reason for Officer Maximoff to question you specifically? You shake your head; you were getting way ahead of yourself.

Perhaps it was just by chance? Wrong place, wrong time maybe?

You wonder what she is going to ask you.

-------

The redhead’s rapport sits unwritten in her folder. It didn’t matter. Not when she finally has something of purpose to do.

Like the proper girl you are, you had written down your full name on the piece of paper. Wanda smiles as she reads it over and over, Y/n Y/l/n. You had been such a good girl, such a sweet little kitten.

Wanda had been researching you, and your life, for the past few hours. After you ran away from her, earlier that day, she had driven back to the station and immediately entered your name into their database.

How could someone blame her for wanting to take a peek into the life of her good girl?

Y/n Y/l/n, y/a years of age, you live two blocks away from the “crime scene”. Apartment house: Acornhouse Ave, Apt 62. You have a roommate named Jessica Maison, age 24. From what she could find on her own, you don’t use social media a whole lot.

Your roommate, however, appears to be obsessed with it. She has countless users, all of whom are updated thoroughly throughout the day. Every post is a useless picture of either Jessica’s face or food.

There is only one photo that caught her eye.

It was posted 7 months back. It is a picture of you and her, at some party, she is standing far too close for comfort, and she has her hands wrapped around you.

Wanda’s nails dig into her palm as she clenches her fists. She has to remember to breathe through her nose and exhale out her mouth. It’s best she stays calm; she doesn’t want to scare you away too fast. However, Wanda can’t just ignore the photo, you looked so uncomfortable. Like you had wanted to get away, away from that disgusting girl. She has to do something. She’s a cop, after all, it’s her responsibility to keep you safe and secure.

She has an idea.

-------

You almost moan as you set your bag down. After having to walk an extra three blocks just to get home, you were exhausted, and in much need of some food.

You lean down to unlace your Converse and put them on the shoe rack, and with a groan, you also put Jessica’s shoes in their designated place. You love her, but come on, was it that difficult to move her shoes?

“I’m home!”

“….”

Strange. You can’t recall her having a shift at the diner today? Least of all without her snickers. Your brows knit together, but you shrug it off, she’s probably just getting food or something.

As if on cue your stomach rumbles. You make your way to the kitchen, disappointed to see the lack of food, you throw in a microwavable dinner into the microwave.  As you wait, you think more of what could have happened in your, rather boring, neighborhood. They had blocked off the street from this morning. So, you couldn’t get a good look, but you remember seeing a big black plastic bag before the Officer walked over to you. A body bag maybe?

You hope not.

A “pling” alarms you that your food is ready, and you sit down at the small dining table, which could barely count as a table, to eat it. Jessica always prefers to sit on the couch and eat, but you find it a bit sloppy, and you would rather not have to clean the couch every day due to your habit of missing your mouth. More than what is probably normal for a legal adult like yourself.

After a while, and a thorough cleaning of the table from your mishaps, you can finally get ready for bed. You roll your shoulders as you walk to the bathroom. You have been feeling all types of sticky since this morning and can’t wait to get it off.

As you turn on the light to the bathroom you feel a shiver run down your spine. You can’t place it, but something feels… off.

Like you weren’t the only one there, in your tiny little apartment.

You intend on just ignoring this strange feeling as it would be almost impossible to hide in this small space, but your guts tell you to just check. Just to make sure. You turn back around, intending to check if Jessica is just in her room sleeping, but something else catches your attention.

Did Jessica rearrange the furniture?

(a/n: Im sorry. I just love cliffhangers)

[red-might-be-dead]

hello.! could you spare some bitb headcanons? i'm planning to start writing some stuff for it in the coming months and you seem like the expert so :3

sorry this took so long to reply to.... jkghksfjhgkjfha

KIAN!! -

i like to think that he was the smartest in the group, he would always do well in tests and classes and shit and he would bunk off most of the time, it would really piss off his teachers because he would fly through school and get As on everything

he left just after finishing highschool, probably before rolan left, his parents didn’t even notice he was gone

he was homeless for a while after music didn’t work out but eventually made money through stocks or whatever the fuck he had going for him lmaoo

his monster is always some kind of tarantula to me, the fur or hair or whatever is the same as the animal pattern on his jacket and he has lots of reds and hot pinks all over :33

ROLAN!! -

he moved to town when he was about 5 or 6 and made friends with rand and kian (they were already friends)

he was the least book smart but he tried really hard in school, unlike the other two, and although he still skipped some classes he was definitely a teachers pet (i feel like he would just seem very trustworthy even if he had just been smoking weed with his friends behind the bleachers)

he left highschool and then stayed with rand after kian left, he didn’t really talk to him he more just stayed in galloway, after rachel died (or went missing) he stayed away from rand but he couldn’t bring himself to leave him behind

when he left he told rand he was going (this was the first proper interaction that they’d had since highschool ended) and rand got so pissed off at him

in college he was quiet but lots of people gravitated towards him, he was a sweet guy with a nice energy so he made lots of friends very fast

he did a lot of sports in highschool, i think he carried on doing some of them until he went back to galloway (probably running)

his bug arm always reminds me of a preying mantis, i think if he had gone full bug-o-mode he would have been some kind of preying mantis creature with whites blacks and blues

RAND!! -

okay so this fucking guy, this guy, this greasy freak is my favourite ever jrwi character and i will NOT be able to get all of the shit down i want to for him because there is SO. MUCH. i’m definitely gonna write this more concisely than i did the shit for the other two

okay, he was smart in highschool, the teachers all hated him so much (he was a less charismatic version of kian) he did well in exams because he actually did study out of class unlike kian BUT he was 10 times more distributive (really he was just doing anything to make his friends laugh)

spent a lot of time IN school writing the d&d campaign and a lot of time OUT of school catching up on the stuff he should’ve been doing IN school

he had a girlfriend for a time, they kissed, he didn’t like it, he realised he liked men, he realised he liked rolan, he repressed all of that and moved on, him and his girlfriend broke up (due to him not spending any time with her, ignoring her in school and spending all the time they did have together talking about rolan or kian, basically him being an overall bad boyfriend), he moves on with life, basically forgets she ever existed

all through all of this time he has also been constantly getting into arguments with his parents and trying to do everything he could to NOT be with his sister (not that he didn’t love her it’s just he didn’t want to spend every waking hour with her)

his parents liked rachel more than him, it wasn’t her fault, rachel was always the most perfect child ever, she admired rand so much she really wanted to be as cool as him (she didn’t understand much about her brother but she loved him anyway)

after rachel was kidnapped rand started to ignore kian and rolan, he started slipping behind in classes and he stopped distracting people in classes, then he stopped coming into school at all, he never graduated

he locked himself in his room during the day and spent all night looking for rachel in the bayou (miracle he didn’t get turned lmao, maybe rach was protecting him in some way) he regretted everything and he would do anything for just another minute with his sister

kian left and didn’t even say goodbye, rand thought he deserved to be ignored for being such a bad friend

it was rolan leaving that broke him, everything was falling apart, he screamed and cried and cursed at rolan as he was driving away, the last thing he said was “i love you” but rolan never heard

he didn’t leave galloway, he couldn’t leave his sister alone again

if he ever went bug-o-mode i think he would be some kind of scorpion creature, or like, idk, a cicada lmao

honestly this is just how i thought the campaign ended canonically but idk anymore: when he talked to his sister he was hallucinating (the same way as when he was talking to dead kian) and he bled out floating in the swamp looking up at the sky

OKAY THATS IT…. BUUUT i do have a shit ton of conflicting headcanons and also smaller character headcanons that i might just drop in your inbox sometimes if that’s okay with you :DD!! sorry this took like one billion years… i didn’t even get everything….

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

Gundam Witch From Mercury Season 2 Episode 7 Review

- I’d like to get off of Prospera Mercury’s wild ride

- Miorine is finally going to Earth, not to escape her life rife with politics, but instead to try and bolster her image. Meanwhile Guel seems pensive to go back. His small time on Earth changed him into a new man, one that doesn’t have a home in either space or on earth. Meanwhile Kenanji, a professional, has no outwardly displayed anxieties and instead just cracks a joke. He’s been immersed in the dark underbelly of Spacian and Earthian conflict so he’s used to the large pressure everyone’s under

- Martin became Secelia’s water boy and I love it. Okouchi got Quentin Tarantino and Dan Schneider in the writing room for that scene. But for as abrasive as she is, Secelia gives some good advice. Martin can’t spend forever wallowing I’m his guilt. He needs to be upfront with his feelings and accept that sometimes, you just gotta do something, even if it hurts

- Guel recognizing Sedo and chasing after him, leaving Miorine to fend for herself was a dumb move, but a realistic one. He wants to reconnect with a proper relationship this time. Plus, it seems like Guel just has a soft spot for kids in general. However, him chasing after Sedo gave him an important piece of information. That Shaddiq was the one ordered the terrorist attacks that got his dad killed, and boy is Guel pissed. I want to see him 5 v 1 Shaddiq’s squad (Renee and Felsi can fight it out alone) and gain his position as the best pilot in the WFM verse

- Speaking of Shaddiq, this man is the biggest fucking “nice guy” I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even see Miorine as a human, just a perfect porcelain doll that needs saving. Nothing can be her fault, it must be everyone else’s. Which is even bigger cap because he was the one who let Guel abuse Miorine for two school years and didn’t do anything about it. Asshole. He hates Guel for “dirtying” his precious waifu, even though she’s told him to get bent already. He didn’t care about her dying during the Plant Quetta accident because she would have died with his image of her intact, but now he’s left coping and seething.

- Lauda is similarly coping and seething by thinking that Miorine is ruining his older brother. He just hasn’t realized that Guel has grown independent, and Lauda needs to as well.

- The meeting between Miorine and the Earthian representatives was very interesting. Miorine brought up job prospects, but the Earthians don’t care about that. They want people to stop assaulting, murdering, and taking advantage of them! It’s only until Miorine brings them something that can truly help, medical equipment, that they listen to her. But they still aren’t ready to support her because she has no real power. Sadly the small amount of trust they built up was destroyed due to Prospera’s machinations.

- Suletta truly embodying the tanuki she is by digging through the trash, but luckily, Chuchu comes to help her once again and bring her to her friends. Earth House loves her, and they’ll support her through thick and thin. And through this support, she realizes that Eri loves her too. She wants to protect her from the war and violence that she and Prospera will be inflicting. And now, Suletta is motivated to move forward properly and gain a life of her own.

- I’ve been fawning over Till since the fourth episode cause I think quiet boys are cute, but he fucking stabbed me with that hair down look. He’s such a good person, stating that Nika should be the one to tell them, and supporting Martin but not babying him. He supports Miorine on her business ventures, helped Suletta talk to Miorine, and is just an overall calming presence. Top 3 best boy, next to Guel and El5n

- And speaking of El5n, that scene in the prison room was engineered to make me go crazy. Norea is going crazy locked up in that room, only being able to think about Sophie’s death, her loneliness, and her mortality. The drawings that once comforted her are just black scribbles, showing her mental state. When El5n picks up the discarded book for fun, he passes by the dark pictures and lays his eyes on a beautiful lakefront. A life El5n never had, and a life that was cruelly taken away from Norea. They’re both just children, but they’ve been forced to bear the dark and ugly sides of the world instead of the beautiful ones. And in that moment, El5n fully understands and falls for her. He focused so much on his own life, but now he has someone else to protect. A hurt girl with no future, much like El4n, who he couldn’t save.

- As Norea screams at Nika and El5n to die, for everyone to die, she breaks down, realizing she really doesn’t want any death. She didn’t want Sophie, her almost-sister to die in such a horrible way. She doesn’t want to die for some cause that’s way grander than her. She wants a happy life indulging in the simple beauties of Earth. And El5n, someone who understands longing for a happy life despite fate’s cruel jokes, holds her hand and comforts her. The two loneliest people have found each other, and as El5n recognizes her pain, he may bow to stay with her. For someone who said he’ll live no matter what, how tragic yet poignant would it be if he sacrificed his life for Norea? I would cry my ass off. I just want them to live in a lake house, Norea making art while El5n reads books from his predecessor’s library.

- RIP Feng. She worked hard to find a way without fighting and gave Miorine a helping hand. She sniffed out the corruption in the Space League but it came too late. As she struggles from the pain the gunshot gave her, she pushes Belmeria to act. To stop looking away from the pain she’s caused and to truly make a difference for the better.

- Prospera herself doesn’t support the new Ochs Earth, using the distraction she started to destroy the Gundam facility. Prospera acts in her and Eri’s own interest. She doesn’t care about the hundreds of lives she just ruined with her plan. Those lives don’t matter to her as much as her daughter.

- But Miorine cares. As much as she tries to act distanced, she cares. It’s why she gave Suletta a tomato and searched for a way to save lives with GUND-Arm. Miorine cares for others and now in her eyes, she’s caused immense suffering. She went to build up herself, but in that moment, she realized that she should have cared more for the struggling people. With Guel going off on his own revenge play, Miorine is now alone. But Suletta will support her. Just like how Earth House believes in Nika, Suletta will believe in her.

I’m not ready for next episode. Guel and Grassley are going to conflict, Norea will go even more off the deep end, and Miorine will be on her own once again, before she met Suletta.

[harringroveera]

My 3am thought:

Jonathan planned Will’s funeral because Joyce was busy still trying to save Will. So what if Max had to plan Billy’s funeral when he died because Neil didn’t care enough to spend time and make one and Susan wasn’t that close to Billy?

So it’s just Max smashing her porcelain piggy into pieces to take out her savings and asks for everyone and promise to give them back because she won’t let Billy go without a proper funeral for him?

So it’s just Max preparing everything for Billy, his casket to his tombstone. And it rains that day, and she’s crying before his grave, tears mixing with raindrops, until something hovers above her, and she looks up and it’s Lucas, it’s Dustin, Mike, Will, El and Steve and she just stays there and cries with them and they’re there but they won’t understand what she’s going through because he’s really gone and she no longer has a brother anymore? And she’s crying so loudly but everyone stays quiet because they want to stay for her.

And it’s the worst day of Max’s life but she couldn’t stop the pain in her chest knowing that Billy’s really gone. No more “shitbird”, no more “Maxine”, no more of his usual remarks or his voice and she never thinks she’d miss it but she does. She never really gets in any car again. She skates to school, or takes the bus. She never sits in the passenger side again, she gets jumpy when someone drives too fast.

So Steve doesn’t question it when he opens the passenger door but she slips in the backseat. Steve slows the car down when she jumps the moment he accidentally hits on the gas pedal. Steve lowers the music and even turns it off because he knows Max always looks startle when Billy’s favourite songs come on the radio again. The first time Steve drives Max after Billy’s funeral, they go to the cemetery, and Max places flowers there and cleans his graves because “No one will take care of him,” she says, tears filling up her blue eyes again. “No one ever did.” And she cries silently as she plucks out the dirty grass. Steve comforts her with his hand on her shoulder.

I know Max just misses Billy so damn much.

[samcscreams]

Chads homework Crisis

It’s about 7:30 on a Thursday. Sams just getting home from work to an empty apartment. Tara and Mindy have their film studies class tonight which goes until about 9:30. Sam isn’t too keen on a night class but it was the only film class with two vacancies. As Sam was getting out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable she’s startled by panicked knocking at the front door. “Sam, Sam, Sam. Oh please be home” she heard Chad say from the other side. Her heart dropped why would Chad be freaking out at their door. Her mind immediately goes to worst case scenarios involving Tara. She opens the door quick as if she’s now in a panic. “What. What happened. Is someone hurt?” She said wide eyed looking at Chad as he hurries inside. He turns to look back at her confused he says “what no. I need your help. I know I normally go to Tara or Mindy with this but they have class and you’re the only other person I trust.” He said sheepishly. Sam sensed his embarrassment. “Hey it’s okay what can I help with?” She asked calming down. “Well I have this paper due. And I pretty much have it done but well you’re the only one who’s available and actually knows I’m dyslexic so I was wondering if you could help me finish it.” He said with a dopey grin. Sam thought to herself for a moment. I mean ya she’s helped him before but it was with minor stuff. she would spell a word for him or read something to see if it makes sense. Shes never actually sat down with him to fix his papers. Tara and Mindy were always around to do so. I mean she only has a high school diploma what if she can’t help him enough to pass. An expression of worry crossed her face. “Hey if it’s too much of an ask I can just try it myself. Don’t worry about me” Chad said as he headed for the door. Sam grabbed his arm before he could even take a step. “Oh no we’re doing this. And we are gonna get you that A” she said as all her doubt turned to determination. “Fuck ya” he said. They both sat at the dining room table. Notes and paper covering every inch of the table. Lap top open with a million tabs and it’s already on a charger. 9:45 hits and Tara comes back from class. “Sam I’m home” she says as she walks through the door and stumbles upon Sam and Chad super focused on a lap top screen. “Um hello?” Tara says again as she didn’t get a response the first time. “Oh sorry hi. wait what time is it? I didn’t make dinner yet. How was class?” Sam said in a fluster looking around for her phone. “No worries I ate before class. What are you two doing?” Tara asked extremely confused. “Paper” Chad said as he finally broke concentration from the laptop. “Ahh I see I’ll let you get back to it then” Tara said as she walked to her room. Chad looked to Sam who was already back at it. “Maybe we should ask her for—“ Sam cut him off before he could finish “No we got this” Sam said as she gave Chad a look that sent chills through his spine. They spent hours checking sources and proper MLA formats. Reading the paper back and forth to each other to make sure it made sense. Around 3am though blood shot eyes and shaky hands Chad looked to Sam. “I think this might be the best paper ever written” he said. “It fucking better be.” Sam added before putting her head down on the table and passing out. Chad walked to the couch and crashed.

In the morning Tara walked back out into the living room to see Sam still alseep at the table and Chad sprawled out on the couch. Knowing both of there schedules she grabbed a pot lid and wooden spoon. She bangs them together “Wakey wakey we got places to go and people to see” both Sam and Chad jump to there feet “What the fuck Tara” said Chad as he try’s to rub the sleep from his eyes. Sam glares at Tara but doesn’t say anything as she technically wasn’t in the wrong. However as Sam realizes the time she looks to Chad. “Chad your paper. your class is at 10” she exclaimed. The clock read 9:45. Chad scrambles to check his phone which had died in the night. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He said as he ran around the apartment collecting all his things. Sam helped as best she could. And before anyone could saying anything else he was gone. “Thanks for the wake up call. Even though…” Sam said gesturing to the pot and spoon still in Tara’s hand. “You’re welcome” Tara said with a shit eating grin.

About a week and a half pass. Mindy, Anika, Tara and Sam are at the apartment watching a movie. When Chad busts through the front door. “SAM, SAM, SAM!” He says trying to catch his breath. He looks as if he ran all the way there. “Whoa there big guy” Anika says as she goes to pause the movie. Sam gets up and walks towards Chad who is now on the floor digging through his back pack. As she gets closer he hold a paper in his hands as if he was presenting her with an Award. She grabbed the paper from his hands and she scanned it over. In big bold red pen read A+ 100%. “You got an A!” She beamed at him. “Oh no no no. WE got an A” he said as he went in for a hug but then hesitated knowing Sam isn’t too big on physical touch from anyone, but Tara. Sam however was to happy to care she met Chad half way for the biggest celebratory hug in the world. Just then Mindy walks over and snatched the A+ paper from Sam’s hand. “My brother got an 100% on a paper? In college? Oh my god it must be the end of the world” she said being extremely over dramatic. Chad snatched the paper back “ya with no thanks to you” he said giving her a little shove. “I have the perfect spot for that.” Sam said as she grabbed the paper and headed towards the kitchen. “Ta Da” she sings as she backs away from the fridge with Chads paper hanging proudly as a parent would hang their child’s drawings. “Aww that’s so cute” Tara added “Wow what an honor.” Said Chad as he walked closer to the fridge. “ I just want to thank my mom and dad for giving me this opportunity. And most importantly Sam for sticking it out through the night.” he says as if he’s giving an award acceptance speech. “Well it looks as though you don’t need us anymore” Tara said “Yep I don’t need either of you anymore. I got Sam for every assignment now” Chad said happily as he puts his arm around her. Sams eyes widen realizing what she’s gotten herself into. “Haha have fun with that” Tara teases as she and Mindy walk back to the living room. Chad looks confused and turns to Sam. “What” he says looking at Sam. She sighs taking pity on him “Nothing buddy come on” she says as she walks Chad to the couch to finish the movie.

Disclaimer* I am also actually dyslexic. So if anything is spelled wrong or if I have poor grammar, Cut me some slack plz. But anyway hope you enjoyed this!

[jmrothwell]

spotify wrapped: 29 :D please!

Thanks for the ask!! You picked a good one!

29 is as Good as it Gets by Little Hurt, which, is actually the vibe/inspiration song I've been using for the Reggie POV tie in to A Matter of Time. (Also I just decided I'm gonna include snippets, if it's fics I am already working on because why not)

((honestly I just feel this is a song that screams Reggie and there are a few different fic potentials for it. BUt I will stick to the A Matter of Time timeline below the cut))

Right now I am debating between two starting points, either the last big fight his parents had with his grandparents. Where it is heavily implied his grandparents planned on suing his parents for custody, and then his parents move to California.

The clearest earliest memory Reggie has was of his parents yelling at his grandparents. He knew there were earlier fights, they just weren’t as memorable. A monotonous daily occurrence that blended together to the point where it became a fact.  Parents fought. They hid their fighting as best as they could around others but no matter what, they fought.  It wasn’t until that fight with his grandparents that he’d even thought to question that fact. And only because of the one thing he’d heard his Pop bellow. Not a full blown yell but the first and only time Reggie’d ever heard him raise his voice like that.

The other starting point would be high school, when he actually first sees Julie. Then from there the story would follow Reggie during high school for a bit. Where we see Julie hanging out with them out of the periphery, the potential 'break up moment' between Luke and Julie. Which honestly can be it's own fic potential (Luke has dropped out, ran away from his parents, and he did not tell Julie. Julie's been worried, doesn't understand why Luke would abandon his parents that way, and is not ready to jump back into music)

Reggie sat waiting for Mr. Deckard to get in for the day. Personally he didn’t get along all that well with the guidance counselor. None of his friends did, really. The man had a set idea in his head of the proper path any upstanding youth should take in life, and pursuing a career as rock musicians did not fit in the mold. 

Unfortunately, Reggie was in the wretched position of needing Mr. Deckard's help. So he sat waiting in the uncomfortable chairs they used for the front office, fingers drumming on his thighs. Then they walked in, drowning in a plum colored flannel and a pair of loose fitting jeans ripped around the knees. He tried to not stare at the giant sun decorating the thigh of their pants leg, though he wondered where they even found pants like that. Maybe they made them themself, that’d be cool.

Then there'd be some of the build up of Sunset Curve's big break, going on tour, his health problems and then it's a matter of picking which scenes and moments from A Matter of Time get the Reggie focus.

Some other things revealed:

-Part of why he bought his own house was so he could move his grandma in with him, since she was having all the medical problems. She died before he even got the chance, other distant relatives argued he didn't have the right since he wasn't involved in her life...which not his fault.

-In the moments Reggie's alone on the bench before Julie shows up he has been spiraling. Been spiraling since he got the news about his heart. Hasn't even told the guys yet what the doctor has said. He's seriously contemplating just not getting the surgery. Plenty of rock stars die young. Some old insecurities flare up, and then Julie shows up and turns his night around.

-The food cabinet moment from A Matter of Time from Reggie's POV is different. Mostly because during high school years you learn that he had to do something similar out of necessity otherwise he didn't always have food to eat. So learning Julie has her own secret cabinet for her own food, he does not register it as Julie setting boundaries. He's thinking despite everything he went and somehow turned into his Dad. Which is part of what drives him to get so pushy about suddenly helping her. Dad never helped. hen she yells at him, and it's just all the alarm bells screaming.

Which is also part of why he goes to avoiding her. HE doesn't know how to fix this. Is this just the way relationships are?? Does everyone immediately turn into the worst versions of themselves when you get married?? Then you have the pizza apology and it's the first time Reggie's ever had even a glimmer of hope in a romantic relationship. Which doubles as a 'when did I start having romantic feelings here?"

-The post surgery almost fight when Reggie is getting annoyed at Julie for acting like his nurse is when he realizes he is like seriously in love with her. But figures he can't openly admit that. Especially when she keeps insisting how they're friends.

-He does have a bit of a panic attack when Julie gets sick. A combination of can't even take care of her and more irrational the universe doesn't want him happy. Willie talks him down from that one over the phone. (Also Willie def suspects something after Reggie has to think about the bedroom thing, and also sees that Reggie's bedroom is very Reggie with no Julie anything in there. Willie chooses to keep quiet)

-Then towards the end is the main reason I ever started considering making this Reggie POV fic in the first place. Sunset Curve are having a songwriting or Jam session at Alex, Luke, and Willie's place when Carrie just won't stop calling Bobby. No one knows what to expect when they hear Carrie and another voice very animatedly talk on the phone. No one expects Bobby to turn around look Reggie dead in the eye and says "Julie's moving out?"

Everyone sort of panic as Reggie tries to keep brushing it off and avoiding the whole story. At least until it's Willie who ask "Does she even know you love her?" or something. Which of course throws everyone else off because why wouldn't she know that.

Then the whole story comes tumbling out and everyone is like you two are morons. Flynn and Carrie (having been put on speakerphone by this point) insist Julie doesn't want to leave and the two of them need to ACTUALLY talk.

[harrison-abbott]

"Are you acting?"

He wanted to be a movie star ever since he saw Clint Eastwood in those Sergio Leone movies when he was a kid.

At Halloween he would dress up as Clint Eastwood, with the hat and the poncho … and he would shoot people with his cap gun. He got a real kick out of the way the gunpowder smelled each time he got a cap. And the other kids liked him; he made them laugh: but he was a good natured kid as well.

And he could perform in front of people as well. He kept persisting that he wanted to go become an actor. So I found out in the city about drama classes. And began taking him along. This was when he was a wee bit older, when he was eight or nine, I would drive him over on Tuesday nights to this theatre group for kids. And they would put on a show in the winter and summer.

I spoke to his drama teacher about him. Or rather, she spoke to me. “Your kid has a real talent,” she said.

He didn’t play in any of the main roles. Lead roles, I mean, because he was younger than most of the other kids. But he had good roles, and was good at what he did: I saw him yell lines in front of hundreds of people.

And he kept going with his acting until he was ten and into eleven. Was devoted.

It got to the summer holiday just after he had finished primary school. So he was in his summer holidays. And he was gearing up for a show. Which he was excited about; he was playing in an adaptation of Bugsy Malone. Not singing but dancing.

I went down into the kitchen, and he was there, standing in the middle of the room. He kinda gave me a fright because he was poised awkwardly and he had his back to me. “Honey?” I said to him. “What are you doing?” It looked like he was trying to pick something up off the floor … except, there was nothing on the floor. And he kept making this movement of going to lift something up, but no object was there. I went around the side of him and looked at him, and again asked what he was up to? He couldn’t look at me. He didn’t respond. Even when I knelt down to him and spoke into his face he was dazed and didn’t communicate. “Honey? Are you joking with me?” I said to him. Because I hoped that he was joking and that he was only playing with me. I thought he was acting. “Are you acting?”

But he wasn’t. So I went and told my husband about him. And my son was still unresponsive and wasn’t communicating. So we took him to the hospital. I really had no clue what was happening, and the doctors, at first, were baffled as well. They tried to interact with him as well, and couldn’t. Until one of the doctors reckoned his issue might be brain related.

They put him through a scan. And it turned out there was a tumour in his brain. It was un-operable. And he had under a year to live.

Just like that, a potent spike of cancer had bloomed in his brain and it would kill him. I won’t tell you about the last five months of his life, after the diagnosis. Instead, I like to remember him as the little boy pretending to be Clint Eastwood and making folks giggle. And I fantasise about him having not died and grown up and gone on to be a proper actor. That type of thing most children dream about. I like to think he would have been a role model.

[pacificwaternymph]

What do you think s2 jimmy/the sheriff would look and act like as a child 

Do you think Jimmy always wanted to be a sheriff or is that a resent development 

is it a family business and jimmy’s family is unofficial royalty because even though there’s elections the people in the family always run unopposed and the one picked ahead of time to be the next sheriff is the unofficial heir and is always trained for the position young by being made deputy to the sheriff 

Or is it new because they are pioneers that just settled My headcannon is that as a child jimmy was a homeless orphan ignored by everyone

After his mother died he lost hope and just focus on staying alive until one day a group of kids visited the village it was big news and everyone came out to see the sight because the kids that visited where royalty from far off kingdoms future rulers 

Jimmy saw how everyone stopped what they where doing just so they could get a glimpse of the promising youngsters and he was struck with longing to be noticed like them

 From that day onward he made it his goal to become an emperor so people would love him like his mother used to 

he dreamed up tumble town a place where he wouldn’t be an outcast and where people would respect him 

He chose to settle in a dessert because in the town when it would rain due to not having a shelter he would get soaked and his belongings would risk being ruined 

Because he was homeless he never when to school he only recently learned to read 

In the town where he grew up there was a very wealthy family that had a young daughter named kirsty 

kirsty was always told by her snobby parents to stay faraway from the dirty scrawny kid she would see sometimes around town and she did as she was told until one day she got lost in the woods she was scared and alone but then she found a cave in the cave was jimmy’s “home” she didn’t question it she was taught not to question anything if it benefited her 

She took a look around and found many things food taken from the garbage, a poorly made cowboy hat and drawings of a sherif surrounded by townsfolk and adorned by them all

Then Jimmy returned at first he was embarrassed but then she started to ask about his plans and he started sharing the two of them talked until the Time came for him to show her back but that wasn’t the end of there friendship it was just the beginning 

Kirsty would stop by whenever she could not telling her parents of course they would approve of her friend she was supposed to be learning to be proper lady a perfect example of a southern bell in the making not out climbing trees or digging in trash for food and other things to help jimmy 

as the days went by she started to feel trapped jimmys enthusiasm inspired her his want for more made her want more

She encouraged jimmy to share his plans with others they started to recruit people Jimmys passion of infectious 

Soon enough they started to put the plan into motion kirsty funded most of it but the others helped to so the pioneers set out to create tumble town 

 Jimmy has dedicated his life to tumble town and as you can imagine is terrified he will be replaced and cast out once again after all he was the outsider that went from the bottom straight to the top 

he over works himself a lot trying to build the buildings and do all the paperwork so he doesn’t have to ask others because he feels he might loose their support and they will leave if he oversteps and pushes them away 

I headcanon Joel to be the opposite he was born into health and and influence he much like kirsty was excepted to be a dignified and perfect from birth 

Once he was put in charge he was finally free to do what he wanted he was like those kids that are super restricted and when they rebel they go way overboard 

So Jimmy and joel are complete opposite 

one had responsibility and devotion thrust onto him and the other had to fight tooth and nail for it 

one craves the approval of other while the other stopped caring about what others think a long time ago 

Speaking of kirsty how do you think she would fit maybe she is living in tumble town and is the mayor working closely with jimmy who makes the laws and enforces them and communicating with the other emperors as the face of the town while she handles finances and keeps track of resources or she could be a thief not a bandit but still a criminal she could be the cat woman to him Batman or the Goldie oguilt to his Scrooge mcduck

I had a cool idea with no evidence in cannon but interesting so you know about the headcannons where jimmy was a bandit or something before becoming the sheriff well I don’t know about the bandit angle but the past criminal activity is cool so I was thinking what if as a kid he was manipulated by his mother that had him unknowingly committing crimes and so the backstory is that his mother had him with his father who was the sheriff before him she ran away with Jimmy because he was so focused on being the sheriff and she turned to crime she loved her son but even more then that she was self so when she noticed how much like his father he was and knew where it was going she revealed the truth to him he was horrified and ran away to be the sheriff of tumble town but that wasn’t the last time they met his mother had tried to replace him with more “kids” she took in criminals that would do what she said and targeted tumble town because she wanted to mess with Jimmy the bandits aren’t allowed to kill him but maiming is allowed and they can do what they please with the rest of tumble town just as long as the repay her by terrorizing tumble town 

And if it’s new what do you think he wanted to be growing up before he decided sheriff it would be funny if he wanted to be a outlaw or something as long as the repay her by the opposite of sheriff but I think the imagery as a child of a little Jimmy wearing big hand me down sheriff clothes and hat is very adorable or a handmade hat that would make any seamstress faint in horror

Or maybe he was the deputy to a past sheriff and in the past he had a nasty habit of trusting the criminals that where in the prison which would result in them tricking him and getting away making the sheriff scold him for being to trusting because no one would respect him if he let people manipulate him like that Jimmy also had it drilled into him that the sheriffs word is law and everybody in town had to follow the sheriffs instructions the deputy which explains a lot of his attitude towards his own deputies 

wow this is long any way I hope you are able to decipher what the heck I just wrote

Wow this is a really cool idea!!

I honestly have no idea what Jimmy’s past is but these are some really interesting thoughts.

Past criminal Jimmy is a particularly tantalizing concept tbh…

I think you should write this down in your own post haha.