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mysteriesmuse · 1 year

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How Class 1-A Reacts to a reader with a quirk Iike in H2O Mermaid

Your quirk allows you to waterbend, but at the cost of transforming into a mermaid everytime you touch water. And the full moon has you going all mermaid stir crazy. Part 2

The Girls

————— Shoto Todoroki has been catching up on a normal childhood since joining UA (through Class A movie nights) and has since discovered a profound love for The Little Mermaid and Avatar the Last Airbender. And so yes, post sports festival arch when he started out the whole “making friends” thing he immediately took an interest in becoming your friend. And y’all are besties now <33

Shoto thinks your quirk is the coolest!!! You’re so pretty when you’re practicing moving these giant spheres and ribbons of water! And, he loves seeing you swim laps in the Olympic sized training pool.

The two of your routinely train and spar against each other as part of your quirks are both elemental. You’ve been partnered together to practicing making complex shapes out of water and ice; and have much to Aizawa’s surprise and dismay the two of you have only succeeded in creating dazzling ice sculpture together. But now you make ice sculptures for all kinds of parties and events that UA hosts! The crowds love them! If there’s any costume parties the two of you always go for Katara and Zuko!! It’s the perfect costume duo.

You even have a plan on getting matching water/fire bender symbols tattooed after UA Graduation!! And Shoto is very on board bc he gets to piss off his dad and it’s symbolic of making fire his power: permanently. Plus a matching tattoo with his best friend? He’s signed up.

—————

Izuku Midoriya thinks your quirk is so cool!!! It’s almost more like 2 quirks like Todoroki’s and so he’s spend a lot of time endearingly questioning you about it. Little bean immediately makes it a goal to become best friends with you! Izuku is the one that actually discovered that your toenail polish affected your scales. He noticed it in training after a girls slumber party and partly because you wore sandals the next day. Some of your scales and the iridescent shine in class that day had turned pink! The same color as your new pedi?? Hmmm

so now you have Izuku to thank for your collection of nail polish and the pinkish shimmer to your scales!!

Izuku also spend the entire summer before UA cleaning up that beach and he continues doing beach cleanups on the weekends throughout highschool. And once you found that’s where he goes out to on the weekends you invited yourself. And he loves to go together! He doesn’t know why he didn’t think of inviting you himself!? I mean, mermaid + the beach?? That’s a match made in heaven. Now the two of you go. A little jog around the beach and some cleanup before you gleefully sprint into the waves. He thinks you look so happy out there and sometimes he’ll clumsily splash in and join you. Gets scared out of his skin, but loves to see you pop up your head above the waves near him and hold a hand out of the water brandishing pretty seashells!! —————

Katsuki Bakugou exclusively calls you Fish Face. To which you frequently reply by splashing him with water. And he paid no mind to you until he found you one night drunkenly waltzing around the dorms. I mean first he got kidnapped and now he had to live with these kooky extras?? Luckily for you, you had no memory of this night or what it is that you did. Although, you did ask a lot of questions when you woke up in your dorm room wrapped like a giant human burrito, but now it’s no longer a secret to your classmates. Now he begrudgingly keeps an eye and ear out for any mysterious mer-trouble at night. Not because he’s confused or concerned or anything. He’s just a light sleeper, yeah that’s it. He unknowingly is usually the only one woken up by your moonlight stirrings. As the primary cook in the 1-A dorm kitchen he appreciates your astounding praise and butt wiggles and hums of delight at the dinner table when he cooks up anything seafood. And, he’s got a list of good sushi places that non of the other nerds wanna go to. So he’s taken up dragging you out to lunch every so often. you frequently ask Katsuki to help haul you out of the pool because he’s one of the few strong enough to do it on his own. And he always acts like he hates it because he always says, “geez, fish face, why do you weight so much?” But will still come over to the edge of the pool where you stick your wet arms out and will haul you up. He’s forcibly encouraging you to go to the gym more for upper body. :’(

Overall he’s still snappy at large, but he can tolerate you and your tail. —————

Eijiro Kirishima thinks you’re so manly and so very pretty too. He never thought he’d be classmates with a real life mermaid. Like aren’t you supposed to be in his childhood storybooks and not in his highschool classes?? Thinks you quirk is a little goofy espically the whole touching water and moon thing, like isn’t that a werewolf thing? But admires your dedication to being stronger and trying to make the best of the mer-wolf stuff. Is totally happy to see Bakugou drag you over to the corner of the gym where he usually hang outs. Totally helps encourage and spot you while Bakugou makes you pump some iron, even if he’s not sure why it started. Kiri too, routinely gets asked to help get you off the floor or out of the pool when you fish out. When Jirou or Mina starts flagging him down from across the hallway he’s already turning to grab the wheelchair and rush to your aid. Calls himself the fishomobile with a big fat grin. Eijiro also loves to pick out rom-coms for movie night and will sit next to you and Ochako, except he’ll actually genuinely cry through it while the two of you only sniffle or laugh. He’s very manly about sharing his tissue box tho. has a soap that he watches on the reg. during his down time and you always seem to be passing through to get a snack from the kitchen when it’s on. You always join him on the sofa as he happily explains the convoluted plot

also this boulder LOVES sharks. Sometimes makes trips to your job and walks around looking at all the crazy cool shark tanks. you think he’s maybe gotten every single shark plushy that’s sold in your gift shop at this point. he has no regrets!! —————

Denki Kaminari thinks you’re gorgeous and super bubbly and he wishes that you guys would be put in more training exercises together! Calls you pretty much any water Pokémon name that comes to mind: Vaperon, Squirtle, Sealeo, Wishiwashi, Pyukumuku, Alomomola, Luvdisc, Goldeen, etc. although he usually just does the cute ones. also tried to retaliate against Bakugou’s calling you Fish Face and that’s how you got the nickname Fish Cakes. Bc hey why don’t you call her something a little nicer? it’s ok, it’s actually kind sweet. He’s always cracking the lamest jokes that get you snickering bc of how bad they are. It’s an admirable skill, honestly. the two of you keep trying to figure out how to safely do a team-up together with your quirks!! you brought the issue up to the big-brained thinkers in your class like iida, momo, deku, shoto, bakugou, and got nothing. Somehow it turned into another analysis of Pokémon team ups with the rich kids squad being left in the dark. resulting in you and kaminari battling Izuku and Bakugou. And for being frienemies they sure make a good team. Not to fear! Team ThunderStorm will try again someday. For now you and Kaminari are not allowed in the pool at the same time.

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Tenya Iida thinks your quirk is very suitable to be a hero on the coast. He’s still mentally debating if it’s a good rainy season hero quirk or not. He’ll let you know when he come to a conclusion. appreciates your dedication to studying and training. You somehow make a pretty good work/life/school balance that he’s slightly envious of. Seriously how do you schedule so well?! What’s your secret?? Really sympathetic to your “water allergy” and is very good at managing liquids around you. Very frequently waves people with open water bottles away from you. You two take turns being stopwatch buddies for each other. There’s definitely a competition to see who’s faster in their element. Unfortunately you’ve been at a stalemate for the past few weeks. really can’t get over how you drink water like an astronaut tho. Using your quirk to drink without spilling. always making a loud sigh afterwards, low key drives him crazy. But he refrains, girls gotta do what a girls gotta do right?

—————

Mineta finds you an easy target. I mean, gorgeous body, no clothes, and you immediately drop to the ground with no chance of escape when in contact with water. You know this grape is on the case. keeps acquiring a spray bottle to use to spritz on you whenever you’re in the dormitory, or library, or gym, or cafeteria, or you get the picture. always “apologizing” when he spills something in your direction. Asking to help you back up, to which you normally mercilessly punt him across the room with your tail. Or sometimes you’re too bothered to touch him and will just move the water around his legs so he can’t move while you army crawl away. although normally you and Todoroki aren’t too far apart so Mineta usually gets a decent chilling while Todoroki comes over to help carry/drag you around. you always give the frozen block of pervert a smirk and wave from over Todoroki’s shoulder. The boy tall enough that holding you this way doesn’t have him tripping on your tail. Let me tell ya’ it hurts when someone like Denki is trying to carry you out of there. *sigh* you really hope Aizawa see’s the classes petition and kicks that scum out soon.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bnha fanfiction #reader insert #fem reader #shoto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #tenya iida #eijiro kirishima #mineta minoru #mysteriesmusing #mha headcanons #bnha headcannons #mermaid quirk #h2o just add water #denki kaminari

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lichfucker · 6 months

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For the WIP folder game: Brain Damage in D Minor, and In Vera? 👀

ooh this is fun because these are both me taking the plot of a movie I like and then applying it to The Blorbos, but in completely opposite directions

brain damage in d minor is a black sails fic based on music and lyrics (2007) which is my favorite rom-com of all time. flint is a washed-up jaded has-been who was in a boy band in the '00s until he got outed and his boyfriend died and now he's 45 and he has no friends and no career and he can't write a new song to save his g-ddamn life. silver is the guy flint hires to water his plants and he just so happens to be an uncannily good lyricist.

it's silly, it's dumb, it's fun. "brain damage in d minor" is a placeholder title and I'm very afraid it will stick. I keep putting off working on this fic because I'm an insane person and I know that I'm going to want to actually write and record all the music.

I've only written two scenes—the opening and the morning after flint and silver hook up for the first time. last time this meme went around I posted like 3/4 of the opening scene lmao so here's a few lines from the other one:

"Here,” Flint says, offering Silver the mug. “I made you some coffee. Whole milk and four sugars, just how you like it.” The mug nearly scalds Silver’s skin when he takes it. Why is Flint kneeling so close? “I actually prefer it with three sugars,” Silver says, “but thank you. That’s—You didn’t have to.” “You order it with three sugars,” Flint says. “Then, when you think no one’s looking, you add a fourth. And I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” For all the talk of sugar, it’s Flint who’s sickly sweet right now: the sweet crinkle of his eyes, the sweet curl of his lip. Silver hides a nervous swallow beneath a mouthful of coffee—fucking hell, it tastes perfect. Flint shouldn’t know how to make Silver’s perfect cup of coffee. Gun to his head, Silver couldn’t make Flint’s perfect cup of tea; why the fuck does Flint know how to make Silver’s perfect cup of coffee?

in vera is the piece I am most actively working on right now! it's a fic for the fetch phillips archives series and it's based on in bruges (2008). there's a flashback in the first book in the series, wherein fetch has an uncomfortable incident with his mentor, then gets sent on a forced vacation to a city called vera so they can get away from each other for a little while. fetch then goes on a bender in vera, meets a general from an opposing army, and defects. shortly after fetch joins the army a big world-changing event happens and his former mentor dies.

this is a canon divergence au wherein fetch gets recaptured by his original organization after defecting to the army but before the world-changing event happens. he's sent on yet another forced vacation to vera, this time with his mentor, and. well. let's just say it's going very badly and will certainly get worse!

I'm working on chapter four right now but here's a little snippet from chapter one for you:

The streets spread out from the city center like a spiderweb, and Fetch is a helpless insect scuttling across the strands, trapped and unsafe. And Hendricks, for all his comfort and bravado, owning every cobblestone he steps on, may very well be the spider. As they meander toward the inn Hendricks booked, Fetch looks for any familiar landmarks from his first trip here. This is the corner where I puked up three glasses of burnt milkwood and half a turkey leg. This is the street where I nearly got run over by a newsboy on a bicycle. This is the bench where I fell asleep and got shat on by a bird. This is the shop where I spent twenty minutes trying to remember the Elvish word for “toilet” before I found out that it’s pronounced completely differently in the Veran dialect. Or was it over there? No, wait, it was a few blocks south. I don’t know. These buildings all look the fucking same. Most of the memories are obscured beneath a thick haze of stress and booze and grief. Primarily booze. They come back to Fetch in little flashes; they aren’t worth remembering once they do. Every façade of rough white rock broken by silvered doors like shards of mirror set into the stone: he keeps catching his reflection as he passes, and it always comes back warped. Stretched and bowed and grotesque. He doesn’t look Human anymore. Or maybe this hunched and hulking creature is the most Human he’s ever been. It’s not as though he can leave his humanity behind. It’s tattooed onto his fucking arm.

ty iz my beloved 💛💛💛💛💛💛

#quaxorascal #thanks iz #long post #bluh bluh #in vera tag #I do not have a tag for brain damage in d minor and I refuse to make one sdlfkjsdf

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rewatch-review-react · 7 months

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NATLA Episode 1 Review

So far this adaptation is Interesting to say the least. Many good points, nitpicks and dislikes I have, but for a Live Action TV adaptation, it isn’t completely horrible. And I will say it is much better than the movie. I have to say over all this was a fun watch.

The show looks nice, as in going from animation designs to live action designs wasn’t an eye sore. But the bending! I Love the bending! There’s so much of it! The elements look more natural in their movement. As for the bending moves themselves, I need to see more to assess that aspect better.

In-depth spoilers below.

It was interesting where we started the story. It feels like things are being laid out in the beginning in a way that new comers can quickly understand, so it will be interesting on they go about building up mystery, suspense and payoffs as they did in the animation.

I really did enjoy the time with the Air Nomads. Loved all the Sky Bison in the sky and it gave me a bitter sweet feeling, since as far as I remember we didn’t have very many scenes with the Air Nomads pre war. Also, the fact that the comet was celebrated before it was used by Sozin is an interesting additional lore. Along with the re-contextualization of Gyatso’s death. I got the feeling from the animation that Gyatso died protecting others, but him dying to protect the children adds another layer that I am grateful to have. Also also, seeing how the Fire Nation made it to the air temples when they didn’t have the use of blimps was insightful. The power of the comet allowing all fire benders the ability to propel themselves into the air with their bending makes sense.

Other changes I enjoyed was the one on one challenge Sokka gave in which Zuko accepted. Right away Sokka reassessed the situation, got a good read on Zuko and got Zuko to do what he wanted in order to protect the village like he’s supposed to. Just sucks it didn’t go his way, but Sokka’s plan that was made up on the spot was a good one.

Iroh and his Jasmine tea. Loved how the man loves his tea and wants everyone else to know how good it is and why it’s his favorite.

On to the other side of this review.

I feel like the dialogue and acting is stunted. It doesn’t flow well and feels like lines are just being delivered. There isn’t much chemistry between the characters, everyone is doing their own thing and not much of playing off of each other is happening as well.

Some choice changes are also interesting in put it nicely. Aang leaving the Southern Air Temple for some air at night instead of initially running away when he was told he was the Avatar. Miss the scene between Gyatso and Aang when Gyatso tries to tell Aang he isn’t going to let the other leaders of their temple take him away.

The scene of Aang’s anger also felt disappointing to me, but the way they went about it makes sense. There hasn’t been much bonding between Aang and Katara as of yet that we’ve seen so having her be the one to bring him out of the Avatar State wouldn’t have made much sense. Having his memories of Gyatso does go well with the narrative that has been told so far, but felt off cause of how the context of the original scene played out. Yes Gyatso has strong feelings towards Aang having to start his Avatar training early but we didn’t get to really feel that kind of emotion from him, which goes back to the stunted acting and line delivery I mentioned earlier.

Iroh’s characterization is interesting. He’s not a jolly as I expected him to be. I like his dialogue and word choices in how he keeps a fine balance between saying what needs to be said without over stepping or being to overt about his opinions. It shows he really knows what’s going on while being unable to talk or tell anyone about it, leaving him to keep up appearances on his loyalties.

In general this adaptation is a mixed bag for me. It has its good points, and not so good points. It has changes I liked they did and changes I wish they didn’t, but as an adaptation in a different medium of story telling it’s not bad. Overall I did enjoy the episode for what it is and it left me nicely established in my expectations of it moving forward.

NATLA Master Post | NATLA Episode 1 Reaction

#natla #atla #netflix avatar the last airbender #review #natla review #avatar the last airbender #natla spoilers #atla spoilers #spoilers

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whileiamdying · 11 months

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A Man With a Past Best Forgotten Goes to All Lengths to Remember

By Dave Kehr Jan. 23, 2004

Even by the lax standards of January film releases -- this month is the traditional dumping time for studio films that didn't quite work out -- ''The Butterfly Effect'' is staggeringly bad.

Starring Ashton Kutcher, the shaggy-haired young actor best known for ''Dude, Where's My Car?'' and for dating Demi Moore, ''Butterfly'' is a supposed thriller that mines the memory loss theme that has been turning up with striking regularity in American movies, from ''Memento'' to ''Paycheck.'' Mr. Kutcher's character, Evan Treborn, is an earnest college student whose life has been marked by a series of blackouts surrounding traumatic events. Majoring in psychology (he keeps a rat maze in his dorm room), he hopes to discover the reason behind the mysterious black holes in his mind.

Simple self-protection might be one possible explanation, given that his repressed memories include, as the film reveals in a spiraling series of flashbacks, being nearly strangled to death as an 8-year-old by his criminally insane father; being forced to participate in a child pornography video directed by the abusive father (Eric Stoltz) of the little girl, Kayleigh, he has a crush on; watching as a young woman and her baby are blown to bits in a practical joke gone wrong; and watching as the neighborhood bully, Tommy (who also happens to be Kayleigh's brother), ties Evan's beloved terrier up in a canvas bag and sets it on fire. That's a lot to handle right there, but the film's writing and directing team, Eric Bress and J. Mackye Gruber, have some even more appalling atrocities in store for Evan as a young adult.

For reasons the film does not trouble to explain, Evan discovers that, if he reads a few lines from his childhood journals, he will be projected back in time to his traumatic moments, where he can change his behavior in small ways that will make a big difference later on. (This is where the title comes in, with its reference to the old canard about a butterfly flapping its wings in China and producing a tidal wave in New York.)

Sometimes Evan's adjustments seem to work out, as when he awakes from a time-travel session to find himself sharing a sorority house bed with Kayleigh, now grown into a radiantly happy 18-year-old (played by Amy Smart). But mostly his changes just lead to greater disasters, including one alternate reality in which Kayleigh is a scarred, drug-addled prostitute, living in what looks like Jodi Foster's old digs in ''Taxi Driver,'' and another in which Evan loses his arms and the use of his legs.

The complicated plotting soon spins wildly out of the control of the filmmakers (their last credit: ''Final Destination 2'') and begins producing unintentional laughs, as when Evan wakes up to find himself the newest and prettiest resident of a prison full of predatory neo-Nazi homosexuals.

But if the storytelling induces brain cramp, the imagery brings on a bad case of acid indigestion. The filmmakers return again and again to their movie's most repulsive visuals: the two naked children standing before a video camera, the dog squirming in the flaming bag, the mother, with her baby in her arms, approaching the mailbox in which Tommy has planted a lighted stick of dynamite. ''The Butterfly Effect,'' which opens nationwide today, is inhabited by a genuine spirit of cruelty, both toward its characters and its audience.

''The Butterfly Effect'' has been rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It includes several scenes of graphic violence, many directed against children and animals.

THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT

Written and directed by Eric Bress and J. Mackye Gruber; director of photography, Matthew F. Leonetti; edited by Peter Amundson; music by Michael Suby; production designer, Douglas Higgins; produced by Chris Bender, A. J. Dix, Anthony Rhulen and J C Spink; released by New Line Cinema. Running time: 113 minutes. This film is rated R.

WITH: Ashton Kutcher (Evan), Amy Smart (Kayleigh), Eric Stoltz (Mr. Miller), William Lee Scott (Tommy), Elden Henson (Lenny), Ethan Suplee (Thumper) and Melora Walters (Andrea).

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lowtaxsa · 1 year

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Crystal Force (1990)

Alright, so here's the deal: I already reviewed this cinematic disaster back in 2000, but it's 2023 now, and I'm a freakin' robot, so let's see if I've held up better than this absolute trash heap of a movie. Buckle up, kids, because we're diving back into the dumpster fire that is "Crystal Force."

Overview: "Crystal Force" is like the unholy trinity of crap. Watching this "horror" film, I simultaneously lost control of my bladder, gag reflex, and any last shred of hope for humanity. The movie's about a bunch of moronic women who accidentally summon some dude in a Swamp Creature cosplay from a chunk of quartz. Meanwhile, a fat guy who spends all his time walking his dogs and spying on these idiots is either the Devil or a blind pervert on a mission.

Directed By: Laura Keats, 1990

The Case For: If you're a tree-hugging hippie, there's plenty of footage of people wandering around trees, going to their cars, and loitering near playgrounds like a bunch of creeps.

The Case Against: "Sex" scenes will have you puking faster than a frat boy after a kegger, special effects look like they were done by a kindergartner, and memories of the chuckling fat man will haunt your nightmares.

Alright, so we got ourselves another "theme" movie here. If you've read any of my other reviews (and I'm sorry if you have), you'll know what I'm talking about. "Crystal Force" is just another turd of a film that the director / writer decided to base around a single prop – in this case, a hunk of quartz (ooh, spooky!). It's like these people are all related and just whip up scripts during family reunions or something.

The movie starts with the cameraman stumbling around a cemetery like he's on a bender while the narrator drones on about some vague evil force that threatens all of mankind. It's a bunch of mumbo jumbo about an evil power that nobody can even talk about. Yawn. Eventually, the cameraman just gives up and passes out, but unfortunately, the actual movie starts. Spoiler alert: it's even worse than the intro and credits.

We've got a woman sobbing at a funeral for her husband. Behind her is another woman in a miniskirt. Real classy. They leave the funeral and start the long journey home, apparently racing against some "storm" that just makes everything dark for two seconds before it's sunny again. They pass the fat guy walking his dogs, and little do they know, they'll be seeing a lot more of him and his pooches.

To help her mom stop crying, the daughter and her friend decide to buy a haunted chunk of quartz from a fat guy in an antique store. Great idea, right? They bring it home, and instead of cheering mom up, it gives the visiting priest a heart attack. Smooth.

The daughter then has another brilliant idea: let's hold a séance with my friends to help my mom forget about her dead husband! What could go wrong? They all go to sleep, and some guy in a rubber monster suit appears in the kitchen behind the magic crystal. He wanders around the house, and we keep cutting back to the fat guy from the antique store just laughing outside the window. Eventually, the monster gets bored and goes back to his spinning, floral pattern pentagram.

The next day, the denim-wearing ladies gather at their workplace, "Bart's Salon." I have no idea how this place stays in business, considering their idea of beauty is on par with the Jackson family's plastic surgeon. They agree to meet up that night for the séance and to inevitably get killed by some horrifying creature.

The women show up, and the airheaded mystical lady brings enough magic garbage to stock a New Age store. She uses "Pulse Channeling" to predict a boat trip (whoop-de-doo), and another woman picks the "Death Card" from a deck of "Taroosh Magic Cards" and freaks out. The mystic reassures her that "everybody picks that card first." Well, that's comforting.

Oh, and of course, we get more shots of the fat guy laughing outside the window. The lady who picked the "Death Card" goes to the bathroom and sees a picture of the hideous demon in the toilet bowl. I don't know if this was supposed to be scary or a reminder to keep our toilets clean, but it just left me confused.

Anyway, the stupid demon escapes (again), pushes the women around, and the fat guy outside the window keeps laughing. The ladies finally get fed up with being terrorized by the monster, so they run outside and hide in the bushes until the cops arrive. The police try to subdue the demon by letting it crush their heads like melons, which obviously doesn't work, so an undercover cop makes some kind of acid out of hair chemicals and sprays it on the devil. Oh, and the fat guy keeps laughing outside the window. The hellhound disappears, and everything goes back to normal. WHEW.

I guess I could've summed up this entire train wreck of a movie with: "women buy a haunted crystal that kills their stupid friends." But instead, the movie drags this flimsy plot into 90 minutes of God knows what. Why is the fat voyeur always hanging around? Why does some kid's face pop up over a spinning pentagram? Why do the mother and daughter both look like they're 80? Why is everyone wearing blue shirts and denim? And seriously, how the hell does "Bart's Salon" stay in business? The sheer volume of these questions shattered my fragile mind and pushed me over the edge.

But hey, other than those minor points, the movie was FANTASTIC!

Lowtax's Score: Plot: - 9 Acting: - 9 Special Effects: - 8 Directing: - 7 Music / Sound: - 6 Overall: - 39 Each category in the rating system is based out of a possible -10 score (-10 being the worst). The overall score is based out of a possible -50 score (-50 being the worst)

#lowtax speaks #reviews #re reviews #big blog

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missluckycharms · 3 years

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What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

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Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fandom #fan fic author #singledad!harry #dad!harry #anon <3 #anon ask #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles prompts #fan fiction #fan fic prompts #fan fic requests

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dothwrites · 4 years

Text

15.19--freedom

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose/Nothing, don’t mean nothing if it ain’t free, no, no”--Janis Joplin

---

Freedom.

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

He still wakes up from nightmares with those words echoing in his head: You’re dead to me. He bolts upright, almost puking, because he can’t believe his past self, he can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth, to Cas, to Cas of all people--

He splashes water on his face and notices that his hand is shaking. His stomach churns in warning, but he doesn’t think he’s going to puke. However, he also doesn’t think he’s going back to sleep tonight.

He and Sam are in the bunker, but he knows they won’t stay. It’s too empty now, their voices echoing through the halls and rooms. Maybe once, he would have been all right with that, would have even enjoyed it, but now, he can’t bear it. He remembers all too well how it felt to have Jack’s voice bouncing through the kitchen as he talked about the latest movie they had watched, or how it felt to just feel Cas behind him as he moved through the kitchen.

Every time he makes his breakfast, he’s reminded of what he lost. Every time he and Sam come back to the bunker, there’s the sinking disappointment to find themselves alone once more. Dean ends up spending most of his days in his room because anywhere else freaks him out. He can’t stop whipping his head to look over his shoulder, halfway convinced that he’ll find someone standing behind him. He’s always disappointed when he finds himself alone.

He and Sam are going to leave the bunker behind. He doesn’t know when and he doesn’t know what for, but he knows that it’s going to happen.

He asks Sam one afternoon why he hasn’t left yet. Eileen is waiting for him, biding her time a hell of a lot more patiently than Dean would, and Sam still isn’t going to her and starting the American dream life. And one afternoon, Dean either runs out of fucks and gathers up his last little shreds of courage, and asks him.

“So when are you going to move in with Eileen? I can’t imagine that she’s going to wait for your gigantor ass forever.”

Sam looks at him from across the table. There’s a book open in front of him, but Dean doesn’t think that he’s read a word. He knows that he’s been stuck on the same screen on his phone for several minutes. Without the pressing urgency of saving the world, things just seem so...pointless. Which is not necessarily bad. But it means that he and Sam spend a lot of slow, lingering afternoons like this, with just the two of them wandering through the bunker and occasionally bouncing off of each other like two very faulty pinballs stuck in a malfunctioning machine.

“She’s fine,” Sam says, which isn’t an answer. “She understands what’s happening.”

Dean’s glad that someone understands because he surely has no fucking clue.

---

His life falls into a kind of routine. Wake up, make breakfast. Find pointless chores to do around the bunker. Make lunch. Watch some bullshit shows on TV. Make dinner. Have a beer. Fall asleep.

He feels like the worst kind of retiree, devoid of purpose.

Sure, there are occasional hunts, but he doesn’t feel the need to go on them. The world is turning, same as it always did, and there are other hunters in the world. If that’s one thing that he learned through these past years, it’s that he doesn’t have to do everything.

(Plus, he and Sam literally defeated God, so he thinks they deserve some time off.)

The forced retirement doesn’t make him happy. The bunker is the cleanest that it’s ever been and he doesn’t feel happy about it. There’s a gaping hole in his chest that’s shaped like the rest of his family, and he can’t sleep at night. He makes dinner and all he can think about are the empty places at the table.

Sam sticks his head into Dean’s room. It’s a regular day, though Dean doesn’t bother to note either the actual date or the day of the week anymore. Time blends together in an endless cycle of waking, chores, and sleeping, because without a purpose to hold him together, he’s slowly falling apart.

“I’m going to head out,” Sam says. Dean notices that he doesn’t put a timeline on his departure. “You should get out too.”

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn’t ask the obvious question: Where would he go? Sam, slightly chagrined, scuffs his feet against the floor. “Maybe go see Jody, Donna, and the girls? See if Charlie and Stevie want a third on their hunt? Bobby said something about building up his library here.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, with absolutely no intention of following through on any of those suggestions. He’s not quite wallowing in his own grief and filth (every time he tries to crawl back into a bottle, he just remembers the pinched look at the corners of Cas’ eyes whenever he would find Dean halfway through a bender, and that memory effectively nixes any desire he might have had to crawl into the nearest bottle), but he’s not exactly the poster boy for healthy coping strategies either.

“Dean.”

Dean hates that note in Sam’s voice, the oh-so-soft and sensitive tone that could soothe widows and lull children. He hates even more that it’s being turned on him, hates most of all that he derives comfort from it.

“I don’t get it,” Dean finally says, because if Sam is leaving then he might be losing his chance to ask his question aloud. “I don’t get...I mean, Jack could have brought him back. He could have done it. I could have asked him. I was right fucking there, and I didn’t ask.”

He’s dissected those moments in his head until there’s nothing left, and he’s forced to cobble them back together like some Frankenstein of memories just so he can take them apart all over again. Why didn’t he ask Jack to bring Cas back? Why didn’t Jack do it of his own free will? Jack knew how he much he needed Cas; hell, Jack brought him back once before when he wasn’t God. So why couldn’t he do it then, when Dean needed him the most?

“I don’t know,” Sam says, still in that same soft voice. “Maybe...maybe it was like Mom? I mean, Cas made his choice. For better or worse, he made it, and maybe Jack thinks that we need to respect it?”

A thick lump rises in his throat. Cas’ face replays in his nightmares, tear-stricken and yet smiling, peace and grief shining in his eyes. I love you. Like it was the easiest thing in the world to say at that moment. Like it was all he’d ever wanted to say.

“I never...” Dean swallows, but he doesn’t manage to chase away the horrid feeling rising in his chest. “I never said it back to him, Sam. I never...all those times he said it to us, and I never...he died, thinking that no one loved him. The one thing I want, I know I can’t have, is what he said to me.”

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a list of his regrets (there are too many to really list), but if he did, then he knows this would be at the top of it. Cas sacrificed himself, Cas let himself get taken, Cas died, and all to save someone who he believed didn’t love him back.

How could he not know?

Dean knows he’s not necessarily Mr. Subtle; he knows Sam knows. Their enemies damn sure have seemed to figure out through the years exactly where Dean’s heart lies. How could Cas, as brilliant as he was, as insightful, as compassionate as he was, not understand that Dean’s been lost on him, quite possible since the first time he walked through those barn doors?

Sam’s face goes on a journey and it ends up at about the same place that Dean feels. Maybe now Sam understands why it’s so much effort for him to just make it out of his room.

“He thought it was worth it,” Sam finally says. “Even if he thought...At the end, it was still worth it to him.”

You were still worth it, is left unsaid, but Dean hears the echo nonetheless. There’s an accusation there which he doesn’t want to confront, but he has to nonetheless.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Sam finally says. “I can’t...” When he looks at Dean, his eyes are glistening. There’s a plea for understanding in his face. “There’s a whole world out there that I haven’t gotten to see since...since Stanford really. Since ever. I can finally go out there and walk around and not worry that something’s going to come after me. I can finally...” Sam rubs a corner of his shirt between his fingers. “You always said that I wanted a normal life, and I did, for a while. Then, when I figured that it was never going to happen, I stopped myself from wanting it, because what was the point? When everything we had got ripped away from us, what was the point of anything? But now...”

“If you start now, then you can probably make Des Moines by night,” Dean offers. It’s all he can say, but it’s enough.

Sam smiles, his eyes glassy. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it is. It’s the bonds of desperation and codependency snapping and shattering and reforming into something else. Dean doesn’t know how to love his brother in this new world. All he knows is that Sam deserves to live the life he’s deserved.

Dean closes his eyes.

When he opens them, Sam is gone.

---

That night, he goes up on the roof of the bunker. It’s cold, but not unbearable. There’s a light drizzle falling which strengthens to a gentle shower the longer he stays outside.

Dean closes his eyes and looks up at the sky. Out here, the stars shine clearer than ever before, visible even through the rainclouds.

He can’t help but think of Jack. His son. He can say those words now, acknowledge that Jack gave him everything he really wanted; the chance at a family, the chance to erase some of his father’s sins. Jack was gentle, he was kind, he was loving, he was theirs. And then he was gone.

Cas, Jack, Sam...

“What am I supposed to do?” Dean asks the rain, the same wild pain rising up in his throat. “What am I supposed to do now?”

---

He makes it back inside, damp and cold, and strips himself. He should shower, but he can’t be bothered, so he falls into bed naked and shivering. Not like it matters; no one is around to see him anyway. He falls into a fitful doze and is only awakened hours later by the soft sounds of someone moving around his room.

He bolts upright, snatching his gun out from underneath his pillow, because old habits die never. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes as his heartbeat catches up with his adrenaline. “Sam?” he asks, and then, more tentatively, “Jack?”

His desk lamp blazes into the life with a soft snap. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat.

Cas smiles at him, the same as always, sadness always lurking in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Dean finally understands why he looks that way.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. The sound of his voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine, but the hair on his arms doesn’t rise. Dean understands then.

“This is a dream.” He lowers the gun. His heart slows to normal and disappointment is bitter in his mouth. “You’re not really here.”

Cas’ mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “It’s as real as you make it.”

“Don’t fucking Dumbledore me,” Dean mutters. He rubs at his temples. Somehow, even lucid dreaming has lost its appeal. Talking to Cas isn’t appealing when he knows that he’s just talking to his own subconscious.

“I fail to see what a fictional wizard of questionable sexuality has to do with this.”

“Good to know that my subconscious has your sense of humor down.” Dean glares at Cas. “Why the fuck are you here, anyway? It’s a dick move, even for my brain.”

“Maybe because I’m the person you want to see? I don’t know. It’s your head, not mine.”

“Yeah. No offense, but I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. Or wake up. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t need to see you anymore. It’s just...It really hurts, all right?”

“I’m not real, so you’re not really hurting my feelings.”

“Good. Well, now that we have that sorted out.” Dean punches his pillow as a punishment for betraying him, before he turns back to Cas. “I miss you,” he says, because he’s weak and always has been.

“Dean.” The sound of Cas’ voice always manages to make Dean stop and now is no different. He turns around and looks at Cas.

Somehow, Cas looks more solid around the edges. The lines around his eyes are more pronounced, and if Dean turns his head at just the right angle, he thinks he can see grey silvering at Cas’ temple.

“Sam was right,” Cas says. “I made a choice. That’s what this was all about, ever since the beginning. Making choices, running our own course, picking our own path.”

“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” Dean mutters. The last thing he needs is his subconscious reminding him that once again, Cas decided that he wasn’t good enough to stay with.

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make a choice as well,” Cas continues, ignoring him. “There’s nothing to stop you. You can make whatever choices you want and take the consequences that come with them. And if you make the right choices, then maybe...” Cas bites his lip, looking almost nervous. “Then maybe I can make some choices too.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue--Cas is dead, the time for making decisions has come and gone--but his subconscious is a dick, and before he can say anything, his dream fades away in a wash of black.

---

Dean wakes up energized. His eyes open into the same room, but it’s different somehow. It’s ridiculous, because the bunker is underground, but it’s almost like he sees the sun shining through his windows. Even the air tastes different. For the first time in weeks, he gets out of bed without dreading every step away from his mattress.

He glances at his phone. There’s a message from Sam along with a picture. In it, Eileen and Sam smile at the camera, their heads pressed together at the temple. There’s still a shadow of sadness in their eyes--they’ve all lost too much to be truly carefree ever again--but they look good. Happy. Whole.

Cas’ words echo back at him, both from the dream and from those last, horrible, terrifying moments.

Everything you did, you did for love.

You can make a choice.

Dean starts towards the library.

---

It takes him three weeks of almost non-stop research to cobble together enough spells to make something that has the potential to work. This isn’t his strength; Sam is much more suited for this type of work, but he won’t bring Sam in on this. If this thing goes really damn badly, then it has the potential to wipe him off the face of the earth, goodbye Dean Winchester. If this thing does what he’s halfway expecting it to, which is nothing, then he’ll have gotten Sam’s hopes up for nothing. He’s not going to expose Sam to either danger or disappointment, not when Sam’s finally managed to get to some kind of happiness.

If everything goes well...

Dean won’t let himself think about that.

He spends two days smoothing out the kinks in the spell, double and triple checking his translations. He gathers his ingredients, and then spends another hour pacing around the library. His stomach is roiling, and his nerves are jittery. He can’t bear to stop, but he can’t bear to move forward.

The memory of Cas’ smile spurs him into action. Cas went to his death a willing martyr for a man who he believed didn’t love him back. He can’t let that stand. If anything else, Cas has to know.

The drive to Pontiac, Illinois takes him the better part of a day. The impala springs forward across the asphalt, almost like she’s eager to eat up the miles after her forced retirement. Dean pushes hard down on the gas pedal, urging her forward. One way or another, this is going to come to an end tonight.

It takes him a while to find the barn. The last time he was here, he wasn’t in his right mind, still reeling from the horrors of Hell and the confusion of finding himself alive. He’d been scared and angry, lost and so very alone. And then an angel had walked through the door and told him that good things happened, that he deserved to be saved. The last little bit might have been a line fed to Cas by a bunch of dickhead superiors, but the sentiment behind it had stayed long after those superiors were all dead.

They replaced the doors which Cas shattered and painted over the walls which Dean and Bobby covered with sigils, but if Dean looks carefully, he can see the shadows of them behind the new coat of whitewash. He touches them gently for a second, remembering Bobby and all of the years which led him back to this place. Then he pulls out his can of spray paint and proceeds to deface the barn all over again.

When he’s done, he sets up the ingredients on the table. The table is where it was all those years ago, facing the doors to the barn. He doesn’t quite believe that Cas is going to pull the same trick, storming through the doors in a shower of sparks, but he can always hope.

“God...Jack,” Dean corrects himself with a wry twist of his mouth, “I really hope this works. Cas, wherever you are, I really hope you have your ears on.”

Dean looks at his translations and begins to speak. He’s hoping that intention counts for something as his tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar words. His heart beats an uncertain pulse in his chest. This has to work. It has to work.

He puts every ounce of belief into his voice, every bit of the faith Cas once accused him of not having. I have faith, he thinks, putting force behind his voice, sending his words rocketing into the dimensions. I believe in us.

What’s real?

We are.

The last syllables roll over his tongue, followed immediately by a peal of thunder. The barn shivers, a ripple rolling through the air to settle over Dean’s skin. Electricity crackles in the air, filling him with potential.

“Castiel?” he calls to the darkness. “Cas?”

There’s no answer, but the spells and research had been unclear on whether or not there should be an answer. He would prefer knowing that Cas was listening, but in absence of certainty, he’ll have to have faith.

“Cas, I really hope you can hear me,” he says. The words bring back the memories of Purgatory and a time when he and Cas could barely look at each other. He pushes those memories away and concentrates on the truth he can feel in his heart, the same truth which has guided him through the years and all the way from Lebanon, Kansas to the small barn where it all began all those years ago.

“I know you made your choice. I know you were happy. But...it’s not the same without you. I’m not the same without you. I wake up and think about you, and you’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. Every moment, you’re there because you’re not there. I look at all the places you’re missing and I can’t help but think that everything would be better if you were there.”

Dean swallows. “I miss you,” he confesses to the night. “Cas, I miss you so much. And I want you to come back. Not because I need you or because there’s something to fight against, but just because I miss you and life is better when you’re around.” He thinks of what Sam told him before he went. “There’s a new world out there, and I can’t think of who I would rather explore it with than you, but in order to do that, you’ve got to make a choice, all right?”

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode out of his chest. “I want to share my life with you. I want to figure out this world together. I want to be able to look at you and hold you and experience everything with you. Cas, I want to tell you what I should have told you every single day for years. I’m sorry that I never told you while you were with me. And I’m sorry that the first time I say it, I’m not going to be looking at you, but it wouldn’t be our lives if something about this wasn’t shitty, right?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “I love you, Cas. Not because of what you can do or how useful you are. I love you because of who you are and how hard you try. And I want to say it to you, every single day, for years to come. I’ve made my choice, Cas. Now you just need to make yours.”

Silence overtakes the barn. The only sound is the faint whistling of the wind through the slats of the barn and the quick rasp of his breathing. There’s no flap of wings, no deep voice growling in his ears, no pop of electricity.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispers, closing his eyes to try and stop the burning behind them. “Please.”

Thunder rolls through the barn, shaking through the wood down to the dirt floor. Dean’s head jerks upright as he scans the barn. “Cas?” he calls, hardly daring to hope. “Castiel?”

A thin, golden thread rips open in the air before him. It looks almost exactly like the rifts between worlds which Jack used to create, but that’s not possible.

It’s not possible, but Dean dares to hope anyway.

“Castiel? Cas?”

A single hand reaches out through the golden tear, and then Dean is moving, he’s practically tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the rift. “Cas, Cas, please,” he’s saying, not quite aware of the words which are tumbling from his mouth. “Please.”

Until his fingers grip the hand, he’s not sure that it’s real, but that’s solid flesh and bone underneath his palm. Dean pulls, feeling resistance on the other end. “No,” he grunts, reaching into the rift. His hand touches skin, and his resolve grows. He didn’t come this far only to lose. They haven’t come this far only to fall apart.

“I want you,” he says, as though the force of his words can rip through the veil. “Cas, please, come home, Cas, please--”

With an almighty heave, he pulls once more and then he’s falling backward, another body tumbling against his in an ungainly pile of limbs and bodies. There’s skin and there’s warm, and there’s weight. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees the rift close up, as neatly as if it were never there at all.

He doesn’t care about that. He can’t, not now.

Dean looks down at the body sprawled across his lap. There are miles upon miles of naked skin for him to peruse, and he hopes that he’ll be able to do so later at his leisure, but for now, all he can concentrate on are those two luminous eyes blinking up at him.

“Cas?” Dean asks, hardly daring to believe. His hands cup Castiel’s face, fingers sweeping a few locks of dark hair off of his forehead.

Castiel blinks at him, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. A slow smile creeps across his face, like the dawn spreading across the horizon. “Dean,” he says, his voice the same as it always was, but this time it’s better, because it’s a voice that Dean never thought he’d hear again.

“Cas.” It’s the only word Dean seems capable of saying, but words don’t seem important anymore, not when he can lean forward and press his lips to Cas’, not when he can taste the small sigh of surprise on Cas’ lips. “Cas, I missed you so much, oh god, Cas, there’s so much I want to tell you, there’s so much I want to do--”

Cas interrupts him with another kiss, his arms threading around Dean’s shoulders to pull him closer. Gentle fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Dean thinks that he could live in this moment forever.

But before he does that, there’s something else which needs to happen first. Dean pulls away, ignoring the small whine of protest from Cas.

“Cas, there’s something I need to tell you,” he starts, only to be interrupted.

“I know,” Cas says, his face splitting into a wide, gummy smile. No shadow lurks behind his eyes, no hint of tears glisten in his eyes. There’s just happiness, radiant and absolute, gleaming from his face.

“I heard your prayer.”

Maybe once upon a time, Dean would have been satisfied with that answer, but not anymore.

“I love you,” Dean whispers, pressing the words into Cas’ skin with gentle kisses over his temple and cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m going to tell you every day until you get sick of it.”

“You’ll have to try for a very long time,” Castiel answers, his fingers tracing along Dean’s jaw. “I like hearing those words very much.”

Dean can’t help but kiss him again. As he does so, he feels the lost and scattered pieces of his heart knitting back together until he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “Come on,” he says, once he surfaces for air. “Let’s go.”

It only hits him then that Cas is naked. Apparently rebirth and snagging people out of alternate dimensions results in a distinct lack of clothing. Dean’s eyes want to travel over the skin revealed to him, but he waits. There will be time, he realizes with a tiny thrill of delight. He and Cas have all the time in the world.

He manages to find a blanket to wrap around Cas’ shoulders. It will do until they get out to the car where he has a spare set of clothes. For now, he helps Cas to his feet. Cas looks around him, his eyes wide and huge, as though he’s overwhelmed with the world around him.

“Where are we headed?” Cas asks as they head towards the door. The Impala waits outside, beckoning them forward once more.

Dean grins as the cool night air washes over them. It’s gentle and soft, eternity held in the breeze. There’s a world held within the palm of tonight, a world held within the rest of their lives.

“Wherever we want,” he answers, stepping out of the shadow of the barn and into the world.

As they walk towards the Impala, a light rain begins to fall.

---

“Before, I wanted to say: "I found love!" But now, I want to say: "I found a person. And he belongs to me and I belong to him.”― C. JoyBell C.

#spn spoilers #supernatural #spn15 #15.19 coda #coda fic #destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel #15x19 inherit the earth #fare thee well spn #dothwrites #not beta'd we die like men here

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echojulietfoxtrot · 3 years

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Chronological Station Eleven Timeline (Updated 09/01)

This is a chronological timeline of events in the Station Eleven miniseries, based on what we've seen as far as Episode 9.

I figure it might be fun or useful to read through roughly in the order they happened, noting some of the connections that might not have jumped out at you on first watch.

It's mostly from memory and I'm still polishing it, so feel free to comment with corrections or additions.

Note that some of these events may occur simultaneously or a little ambiguously to each other, but I have tried to reflect them roughly in order.

Obviously, this contains massive spoilers for the show, so it's below the cut.

BEFORE PANDEMIC

Miranda gets a job in logistics and shipping, working for Leon Prevant.

Arthur shows up late and without a gift to his friend Clark’s birthday party. He hits on Miranda and gets her to draw something for him as a gift, a banana. Miranda and Clark bond while he’s off being movie star. She devises the “cutting anchor” symbol that both Kirsten and Tyler will later invoke, and a character in the story, Lonegan, bears some resemblance to Arthur. They begin a relationship.

Frank is seriously injured in a landmine explosion in Sri Lanka, which breaks the compass in his pocket, a gift from his Grandfather. Jeevan borrows his sister’s credit card to buy first class tickets to get to him in hospital, running up an enormous bill he thinks she doesn’t know about (she definitely knows).

Arthur, believing Miranda can’t speak Spanish, openly talks shit about her to his dad on the phone. Miranda, believing Arthur is having an affair with his co star Elizabeth, storms out of the dinner party. Clark follows her, joking that he misses cocaine, though at this point he is still drinking (Pra-ha!). He fidgets with a zippo lighter throughout this conversation. Miranda burns down the poolhouse and leaves Arthur that night.

At some point Miranda begins work on Station Eleven from scratch.

Arthur does begin a relationship with Elizabeth. They marry and they have a son, Tyler. They split up due to his womanising. She moves to Germany. Elizabeth will later tell Tyler his father sent him many letters and she burned them, but this is a lie.

Sarah has a reasonably successful indie musical career, and features on NPR - though she has a love/hate thing with La Campanella, a notoriously difficult piano piece, due to its association with her dead father.

SHORTLY BEFORE PANDEMIC

Frank moves back to Chicago and becomes a ghost writer for the rich and famous. He begins using heroin.

Jeevan moves back to Chicago from LA. He "had" a website, so presumably he used to be a media blogger before the bottom fell out of that whole scene in the early 2010s.

Three weeks before the play, Arthur and Clark meet up, trying to inject some life into their friendship. Clark has been sober 9 years at this point, and initially declines drugs he’s offered by the room service guy. He is offended Arthur doesn’t know he's been sober, nor recognize the name of his boyfriend Tim; Tim clearly knows who Arthur is though, based on his very grumpy text messages. Clark relapses, goes on a bender and fucks the room service guy. Noon the next day, he wakes up and blurts out some shit about how Arthur’s a terrible father in Tyler’s earshot.

Miranda and Arthur have a call, entirely in Spanish. She tells him she loves him.

Miranda meets Arthur while he’s rehearsing for King Lear. She gives one copy of Station Eleven to him, which he gives to Kirsten, and one that he sends to Tyler. She is very tempted to stay – but she goes to work in Malaysia instead.

In the course of rehearsals, Kirsten and Arthur have become good friends. Kirsten's wrangler Tonya has told him Kirsten's home life is sad, though we don't get details (Kirsten does later mention she had a little brother once who died before she was born). Kirsten is briefly introduced to both Clark and Miranda, though she may not recall later. She is due to meet Arthur’s son Tyler at the premiere, but they are late and don’t make it.

PANDEMIC BEGINS

The night of the play Arthur has a heart attack. Jeevan, there with his girlfriend, tries to intervene. Kirsten’s wrangler Tonya, who may or may not be sleeping with Arthur, goes with him in the ambulance and abandons Kirsten. Jeevan tries to get her home to her parents, and in the meantime gets a warning from Siya that this is a doomsday event. Kirsten is 8 at this time.

Siya calls Frank, to tell him Jeevan’s on his way. Frank at first says he doesn’t want him there. He flushes all or most of his heroin stash and changes clothes.

Clark starts notifying people Arthur is dead and making arrangements to get to Chicago. Tim, who clearly did not like Arthur, makes excuses not to come.

Jeevan brings Kirsten to Frank’s. They witness a plane crash into Navy Pier.

Leon gets a warning the flu is serious and warns Miranda in turn. He tips her off to a ship she can get to to weather it out, and a means to get there, but she gets Clark’s call about Arthur as she’s running for it and stumbles, dropping the keys. The ship presumably leaves without her. She seals herself into her hotel room to wait for the end. Leon gets sick, and presumably dies.

Clark, Tyler, Elizabeth and Elizabeth’s weirdly wigged and accented agent Brian are all diverted to Severn City Airport. Elizabeth gives Clark an extremely cold shoulder initially, his shitshow in Chicago only a few weeks before. One of the airport’s janitors begins masquerading as a Homeland security agent. The last plane to arrive is grounded, but kept sealed due to apparent contamination on board.

Kirsten receives texts from her parents’ phones informing her they are both dead. It is 11 days before Christmas.

Dr. Deborah/Terry, who has been suspended for running a ponzi scheme with the nurses, is not on duty when the pandemic breaks out and so survives.

Tim dies.

THE FIRST 100

Kirsten befriends a cat that wanders through the building vents and calls it Luli. She and Frank exchange Christmas gifts - he gives her the now broken compass his Grandfather once gave him. The power goes out and the apartment gets extremely cold. Jeevan wants to leave Frank’s apartment before the food supplies are likely to run out, incorrectly citing the true story of ALIVE as a soccer team's plane crash, instead of a rugby team. Frank’s injury, likely withdrawal effects and possibly acquired agoraphobia mean he will not leave. Exploring a neighboring unit in the meantime, Jeevan passes a copy of La Campanella’s sheet music marked “IT’S IMPOSSIBLE!”; the occupant has seemingly committed suicide through the window, something Jeevan himself also contemplates. Instead he scavenges a radio, but leaves the door unbarricaded on his way back in.

Kirsten writes a play based on a death scene in Station Eleven as a proxy goodbye between them all, but on the day they are due to leave, an intruder with a red balaclava breaks in. Frank sacrifices himself in a confrontation with him, and Jeevan has to kill the man.

Kirsten takes the knife that killed Frank, carrying it for the rest of her life, and the compass. Jeevan and Kirsten leave, and wind up in a cabin in the wolf-infested woods near what will one day become St. Deborah By The Water.

The airport begins to becomes an enclaved community, run by Clark, Elizabeth and Miles. The janitor leaves with most of the soccer team (sans Goalie) and possibly Brian for a "beach community" he wants to found; Clark uses the opportunity to fortify the rest with a speech about how much better off they all are without them, and how united and useful the remainers are, like the Goalie. Good for you, Goalie.

Miles, formerly a TSA agent, knows some electrical engineering – he rigs up the airports solar panels so they maintain power. Tyler brings a disoriented survivor from the sealed plane into the airport, but Miles shoots him for fear he’s contagious. Elizabeth and Tyler are both quarantined in a jet for about a month. Elizabeth bears it fairly gracefully, but Tyler doesn't. Clark becomes increasingly convinced he is a threat, and Tyler overhears him having a conversation with "Arthur" over the radio to this effect.

Tyler starts a fire in the sealed plane with Clark’s lighter and his copy of Station Eleven, faking his death and running away. He leaves behind his weird internet… thing (it’s an Atari Lynx 2 for some reason), which is put in the Museum Clark has started.

Things begin to settle down, and a bunch of women get pregnant towards the end or shortly after the First 100 days.

1 YEAR POST PANDEMIC

At this point there are still operational ICE (ie conventional internal combustion) vehicles, including jetskis, motor bikes, and a snow plow.

Gil and Sarah, and the Symphony in whatever form it’s in at this point, begin circling the lake annually.

Jeevan and Kirsten squabble a little. She is obsessive about Station Eleven. A little desperate for adult social contact, Jeevan talks with a woman over the scavenged radio and fibs that he’s a doctor and that he’s alone. Kirsten gets pretty good with a rifle, very very good with her knife, and seems to be a reasonably competent trapper. Jeevan gets quite good at skinning and butchering animals, too - but they are both wary of a local wolf they nickname Big Daddy.

Angry that Kirsten gets distracted by Station Eleven - resulting in him getting hurt by a mysterious pregnant woman while they’re out scavenging - and kinda weirdly jealous, Jeevan throws away Station Eleven. He goes remorsefully out to look for it that night, but is attacked by Big Daddy, who tears open his arm and foot. He wounds Big Daddy and survives, but likely gets frostbite from being left out in the elements. He makes it to within sight of the cabin before passing out and being picked up by the mysterious pregnant woman, Lara.

Believing he really is a doctor and that he's alone, she brings him to a department store, Habermakers, that’s being used as a makeshift maternity hospital for 15-16 of the first post 100 day pregnancies.

Kirsten looks for Jeevan in the morning, but can only find a very bloodied copy of Station Eleven and hears wolves. She apparently concludes he has been killed, and leaves before Lara finds out she was there and comes back to look for her. She leaves the broken compass behind, but brings the wolfskins, which she will still be wearing by the time she meets Sarah in a year or so.

These first women, basically the first generation of women who would have gotten pregnant post pandemic, are mostly due to give birth within days or hours of each other, around the Solstice, but at least one more woman appears in the meantime, so this location seems likely to draw pregnant women from now on. One woman, Rose, tells the others she’s waiting for David, but dies in labour.

“David” appears too late, too young to be the father as we might have assumed. He is in fact Tyler Leander. Tyler is introduced to her baby, who is named Alexandra, but doesn’t take her with him.

Jeevan leaves the community and returns to the cabin to look for Kirsten. She finds the broken compass she's left behind. He carries on elsewhere with his new companion Lara, the mysterious pregnant woman/woman he spoke to on the radio.

The Red Bandanas, meth-using militia men, take over Pingtree golf club and then wipe each other out as a coherent group. They scatter into the woods. Somebody mentions they were known as “Kevins” in Virginia... One of them is apparently a former dentist, and they seemingly have access to Kokorol-1, what's thought to be a Fentanyl derivative used by Russian secret services to knock people out or poison them, as required. One of their members, Vlad, leaves and joins the Symphony. A bunch of professors from Purdue move in to now vacant Pingtree and de-mine it, but leave the minefield warnings up.

Clark and Miles begin a relationship. The airport people fashion little houses for themselves within the terminal, re-purposing the materials and doors from the building, and set up a school for the kids. Elizabeth is involved with it, Clark lectures about Ye Olden Days at it, and Miles teaches electrical engineering.

2 YEARS POST PANDEMIC

Sarah is on her second lap of the lake, and the very early days of the Symphony. At Petoskey Station, while attempting to play La Campanella, she meets Kirsten, who is by now around ten, and covered in blood. Kirsten is in rough shape psychologically, identifying herself *as* Doctor Eleven from her comic book and referring to Frank Chaudary as her own little brother. Based on the Wheel map, we have to assume they have already passed through the Habermaker community and picked up baby Alex by this point, though Sarah warns Kirsten that Gil hates kids (she might have learned this the hard way, after picking up Alex...)

At Pingtree, the Symphony perform The Tempest for the professors. Gil finds The Book of Joy and Despair, which was started by a Red Bandana. Kirsten mentions she has already killed some Red Bandanas at this point, or else they would "chase" her. She briefly loses Alex after getting distracted again by Station Eleven – horrified, she promises to get rid of it. We can surmise this is when she stashed it in the desk in this very room at Pingtree. She essentially gave up Station Eleven for Alex.

POST PANDEMIC YEARS 2 – 19

ICE vehicles gradually become inoperable, though some battery operated ones like golf carts remain in use until present day (the book notes that gasoline starts going stale after 2- 3 years).

At some point Sarah finds out Gil is also seeing Katrina at Pingtree and shoots him (non-fatally). He leaves the Wheel and stays in Pingtree, and the Symphony stops visiting it. Gil continues The Book of Joy and Despair.

Terry/Deborah dies in a chemical fire. The Habermakers community becomes St-Deborah-By-The Water, and she becomes its patron saint, complete with a statue of her holding a baby. “St Debs” is known for its doulas, and pregnant women apparently have continued to go there in the years since Jeevan left. The midwives have come to place a lot of significance in Solstices, Equinoxes, “vernal energy” etc. The community is no longer located in the Habermakers store, which may have burned down entirely – it’s now a kind of village around a water edge, though there are the remains of a Habermakers truck nearby. It has become the starting point of The Wheel.

Kirsten gets a horse she also names Luli. She has developed a reputation as a local celebrity, and is known to her friends for her habit of hiding weapons in her stage costume, and for checking the Cabin every time they pass it near St Debs. She meets Charlie in Year 3 and they become very close, never apart from this time until Year 20. At some point she even dates Charlie, and Jeremy, though she later swears off actors.

Cody is born at some point early on (he’s 17/18 by the time Kirsten meets him) and may well be the Prophet/David/Tyler’s first disciple. He’s the oldest of the Undersea, and the only one who seems to be aware “the prophecy” is a load of shit, so it's possible Tyler either hadn't refined his schtick when they met, he was told when he was old enough, or he figured it out himself.

Jeevan settles down with Lara from the radio/Habermakers and they have kids together. He is well enough known as a doctor that he can apparently be sent for to do emergency house calls, but wherever he lives seems to be far enough off The Wheel that he has not heard of Kirsten again since losing her.

Clark has a monument erected to the passengers of the sealed and burned plane, which falsely claims they all sacrificed themselves willingly for the sake of the airport occupants.

20 YEARS POST PANDEMIC

Kirsten is now about 28.

Tyler shows up at Pingtree golf club pretending to be injured. He gives a story about a sick wife and an accompanying kid who is meant to be his. He is sent away but comes back and repeats the overture with a different kid. This time he disappears with all of the children in Pingtree, recruiting them to the Undersea.

The ruling council at the airport make the decision to “invite” the Symphony to the airport at Elizabeth's request.

The Symphony starts the year’s wheel in St-Deborah-By-The-Water as usual. Alex is apparently “with” Sayid, but it seems to be pretty casual. They stage Hamlet, but Dieter has trouble casting it because a number of actors won’t do it “because of Gil”, who hated Hamlet even more than August: Osage County. Charlie and Jeremy choose to drop off the Wheel here to have the baby. Kirsten flips out, raising the possibility of the baby getting eaten by wolves, which seems hysterical at the time but may well be rooted in Jeevan’s apparent death in the nearby woods.

Tyler shows up and singles out Alex, telling her a greatly altered version of the story of her own mother Rose, claiming Rose died in Detroit having Cody, rather than St Deb’s itself, having Alexandra. He fakes an injury very visually similar to the injury he might have seen a certain Dr Chaudary with, or heard about, but his fake backstory (including implausible age ranges) is easily apparent to Kirsten. Kirsten tells him the "cut anchor" tattoos on her hand represent all the people she's killed as if it’s a joke - it is unconfirmed, but plausible, that this is actually true.

Sarah is approached with an invitation to the Museum/Severn City Airport by Brian, Elizabeth’s former agent. He no longer has the weird wig or accent, and has a significant scar on the top of his head – his demeanour is odd, and may be meant to suggest he has minor brain damage. It’s not clear what exactly happened with the Homeland Security group who left, but Brian later states he has total memory loss from before apart from the fact he left and came back (Jeevan's earlier mistaken reference to a soccer team being involved in a plane crash may be blackly humorous foreshadowing to an explanation for this though... and what up, Yellowjackets!)

Kirsten confronts Tyler about the inconsistency of his story, while he fidgets with Clark’s lighter. She stabs Tyler and leaves him for dead. She sleeps with S that night, who I’m pretty sure is an actor, or at least performer, which I’m only pointing out to say Kirsten, gurl, what did you literally just tell Charlie.

Tyler is rescued by Cody. Cody knows a woman near Pingtree who knows how to make antibiotics (PS - I have to wonder if this is Jeevan’s wife).

At Petoskey Station, the troupe splits. The Symphony’s actors heads onwards to Pingtree while the musicians head to Neuvo Santiago. Since they have last been there, the Professors have re-laid the golf course minefield, but the actors wind up making it safely through anyway because the Undersea kids have already stolen the mines back since, presumably with the help of Gil's grandkids. Kirsten retrieves Station Eleven from its hiding place in the desk, invites Gil back on tour with the symphony, and sleeps with Sayid, which I’m only pointing out because Sayid is also an actor. So for those keeping score, of the four people we know Kirsten “Doesn’t Date Actors” Raymonde, the actor, has dated/slept with, literally all are actors.

Sarah finally plays La Campanella, and Gil begins writing a letter that seems likely to me about his decision to rejoin the Symphony. Alex runs away on Kirsten’s horse Luli (Kirsten’s memory of Jeevan’s disappearance starts leaking into this, which is why there are wolf howl noises)

Supposedly without Tyler’s knowledge due to his injuries, Gil’s grandkids come back and suicide bomb the place, killing Gil and injuring Kirsten. Kirsten hides the piece of shrapnel in her hair as a weapon and tells Sayid where she’s going, ie to finish killing Tyler.

Brian, backed up now by the Goalie playing enforcer with a shotgun, intercepts the actors at the Petoskey Station rendezvous and bring them to the airport at gunpoint, where they are already holding/hosting the musicians. Sarah, heartbroken over Gil, drinking heavily, under significant physical strain and confronted with the fact an airport just off the route she’s always refused to leave has had fully working amenities for 20 years, has a massive heart attack.

Tyler blackmails Kirsten into giving him cover to get into the Museum of Civilization as an actor, because it has “something that belongs to him”. For want of other options, she goes along with him for now and he declares her part of the Undersea. They are ambushed by Red Bandanas in the woods – Cody is killed, Kirsten kills everyone else, and is then poisoned with the supposed Kolokol-1 (Kolokol’s exact composition is unknown, but it’s thought to be Fentanyl based, and if so would be treatable if she survived the initial poisoning. Its use also suggests to me the Red Bandanas try to take people alive, though unlikely for humanitarian reasons).

She fantasises about making it back to the apartment in Chicago and saying goodbye to Frank's remains. She recovers and they continue on their way. Tyler tells her the kids are unseen, but around and will emerge when signalled "by a torch".

Clark can’t get the airport's kids interested in his Karaoke machine so Elizabeth gives it to Alex, who sings Lisa Loeb's Stay, a song written 56 years ago from her point of view. Alex also has a walkie talkie to report back to Elizabeth, so we can assume they’re on very good terms.

Kirsten and Tyler are brought to the airport by Miles and forced to audition to prove they are who they say they are. Kirsten uses an exchange from Station Eleven because she can be confident he probably knows it, and he uses the opportunity to retrieve his internet device. Kirsten is brought up to speed by the Symphony, and is deeply alarmed that they've accepted the offer to, well, Stay.

Tyler sneaks Kirsten into the Skyways and shows Kirsten some of the routes around the airport he used to use to move around secretly, so that she can see Sarah. Sarah tells her she's dying, but makes Kirsten agree not to tell the Symphony she's dead until after the play. While Kirsten is doing that, Tyler plants explosives on a timer in the museum, using his handheld device to keep track of the count down and possibly to program the detonations themselves.

Kirsten, aware Elizabeth Colton was married to Arthur, aware Arthur had a son around her age with her, aware he provided her copy of Station Eleven to her, and that the only other person familiar with it is the guy who wanted to get back into the airport he came from, here's Elizabeth Colton is at the airport and puts everything together about who Tyler is in one swoop - "Hoooooly fucking shit."

Tyler destroys Clark’s monument just before the bombs detonate and blow up the tower, summoning the children. Clark arrives, escorted by Officer Goalie with her shotgun, and Brian knocks Tyler out.

At time of writing there is a single finale episode left to be broadcast, 1x10 - Unbroken Circle, and you can see promo photos from it here: https://www.spoilertv.com/2022/01/station-eleven-episode-110-season.html

#StationEleven #Station Eleven #Mackenzie Davis #Himesh Patel #Lori Petty #Station11 #Scifi #post apocalyptic #hbo max #hbo miniseries #S11 #STARZplay #crave #TV #MackenzieDavis

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yinglipeggedwenwu · 3 years

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[fic] 5 times Katy got isekai’d and met Wenwu in a past life

Chapter 1/5

Characters: Katy Chen, Xu Wenwu, mentions of Shaun/Shangqi Genre: comedy, gen Rating: PG13 for language I guess? Ships: no ship dynamics, but will imply movie-canon ships later Word count: 961 Notes/CW: spoilers for the movie, goofy premise, some dicey Mandarin that some diaspora Chinese kids may relate to. This is my first time throwing fic on tumblr so let me know if I need more tags or sth.

Takes place between Katy meeting Wenwu officially and the end of the movie.

Preview: “Hey guys, I’m so sorry, I can explain–” Katy says, knowing full well that she really can’t. The voices go quiet suddenly. A man stands in front of the others, arm out in the universal ‘chill the fuck out’ gesture. Damn bruh, Katy thinks, until she recognizes the man.

“Oh my god, it’s Shaun’s dad!”

KATY lurches awake. Goddamned falling dreams. It feels like she actually fell this time, though. She sits up on a hard, cold floor. “Where am I?”

This doesn’t look like any of the usual bars or karaoke rooms or bus stops she’s waken up at. She’s inside, which is a plus. It’s a large room with intricate, lacquered furniture. It smells like an herbalist shop. It looks like she woke up at a museum exhibit that would be titled ‘Oriental Room’ or something like that.

A cluster of shouts catch her attention. A bunch of dudes with long hair and old time clothes (like really old time) and really angry voices are bunched up at a set of wide double doors, and they look super pissed. Katy wonders if she blacked out and stumbled into a culture center or maybe a movie set?

“Hey guys, I’m so sorry, I can explain–” Katy says, knowing full well that she really can’t. The voices go quiet suddenly. A man stands in front of the others, arm out in the universal ‘chill the fuck out’ gesture. Damn bruh, Katy thinks, until she recognizes the man.

“Oh my god, it’s Shaun’s dad!” Katy pushes herself up to her feet, and she feels surprisingly clear-headed considering the bender that must have gotten her here. “It’s me! Katy! Remember? Kay-tee. You know, Shaun’s friend?”

Shaun’s dad doesn’t react, even though the guys behind him are getting riled up. They’re grumbling in Mandarin-Katy knows that much-but she can’t quite grasp what they’re saying.

“Why’re you dressed like that? Are you guys, like, LARPing?” She gestures at the historic garb and the weapons that she just noticed they’re sporting.

Shaun’s dad hasn’t said anything yet, and he’s looking at her cautiously. Which-fair-Katy had only met him a few days ago, and it wasn’t exactly a picnic. But that was all a family thing! Katy just happened to be at the dining table where Shaun’s dad talked about his hallucinations and how disappointed he was in Shaun and basically ignored Xialing and–

Oh, duh! Katy smacks herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand. “Shang chi. I’m Shang chi’s friend. He goes by Shaun in the US. Katy.” She punctuates her reminder by waving her hand in a small semicircle in front of her chest. “Uh… Shangqi. Peng you. Shàngqì! Your son! Shāngqí? Peng you! Wo shi peng you! Shi Katy!”

Shaun’s dad and his crew are still looking really hostile, like she really isn’t supposed to be there. Shit, what if she accidentally crashed Shaun’s dad’s secret freaky sex party? Katy grasps at her feeble memories of Elementary Chinese 1, but Shaun’s dad still looks hella pissed like she just took a steaming dump on his polished floor. She looks down just to make sure she didn’t.

He starts calling out to the guys behind him, and they begin slowly fanning out to the perimeter of the room. He steps forward, the only thing between Katy and the way out. His hands are at this hip, where he draws out a sword that is holy shit okay the blade is wider than her whole arm.

“No! It’s - we met! We’re cool! I won’t tell Shaun about your weird LARP sex party or whatever, I promise!” Katy pleads, her voice croaking in her throat. But as she appeals to him, Shaun’s dad just keeps taking slow, menacing steps towards her. And then Katy gets it: she’s having a dream. They haven’t met, not in her dream anyway. That explains why Shaun’s dad looks like a Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon extra. And even though it’s a dream, Katy still instinctively backs away when Shaun’s dad points the business end of the sword at her.

He begins addressing her, but she has literally no idea what he’s saying. He might not even be speaking real Chinese - if this is supposed to be a product of her mind, then it’s definitely going to be some busted Mandarin coming out of his mouth.

“Bu yao! Bu yao!” Katy doesn’t know why she’s compelled to reason with Shaun’s dad in her dream, but it’s also a hella realistic one. The way her shoes squeak against the polished floor, the sounds of armor clinking around and in front of her. And Shaun’s dad looks as serious as all you can eat sushi.

Katy tries to will herself awake, but it’s not happening. She knows it’s a dream, she knows she’s gonna jolt awake and it’s gonna suck for a few minutes, but it’s also fucking scary right now. That sword looks hella sharp.

“Liu Bei!” Katy blurts out. Oh shit that doesn’t mean anything; that’s a character from Dynasty Warriors.

W a i t. Dynasty Warriors is based on Chinese history. Maybe if Shaun’s dad recognizes some of these names, he’ll listen to her.

“Guan Yu! Z-zhang Fei!” Katy continues. “Cao Cao!” She grimaces. “No, Cao Cao’s bad. Bad guy. Bu yao!” She makes ostentatious thumbs-down gestures and shakes her head, like she’s on a kid’s educational program.

To Katy’s surprise, Shaun’s dad’s stance shifts. It’s not quite relaxed, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to pounce either. The guys around the room are eyeing each other, and they’re murmuring too. Shit, maybe this is a huge Dynasty Warriors role playing group she stumbled on. Okay, Katy thinks, I can do this.

“Chi bi?” she throws out, remembering the one movie she stayed awake for in that one Chinese culture elective. “Huo! Hen duo huo. Um, feng! Zhuge Liang… you feng.” She nods decisively with an enthusiastic thumbs up.

The room is silent after Katy’s verbal dump. And then Shaun’s dad leaps forward and stabs her right in the gut.

#katy chen #xu wenwu #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #fic #shang chi spoilers #gen

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

6x21: Let It Bleed

Then:

Dean and Cas broke up

Now:

March 15, 1937

Providence, Rhode Island

It was a dark and stormy night, and HP Lovecraft sits at his typewriter clicking away. He finishes his manuscript, and his door slowly creaks open. He pulls out a revolver and heads to the hallway, but quickly backs back into the room and locks the door. A window blasts open and a shadowy figure is there. He pleads with it --but becomes blood cannon fodder anyway.

Dean continues to dissect what could have gone differently to prevent his breakup with Cas. Sam tries being the logical friend --but there’s no explaining heartbreak, folks. Bobby comes in to tell them that when Cas popped in for his late night tet-a-tet with Dean, he stole a journal. But don’t worry, Bobby had a copy.

Upon reading it, Bobby discovers a mention of HP Lovecraft. Dean doesn’t know who that is --and you’re going to tell me the dude that knows horror movies like the back of his hand and reads Stephen King doesn’t know who the father of horror is? And I know that Dean lies to cover up things he thinks other people would look down on him for, but this would be a weird moment to do that.

Anyway, Bobby thinks Lovecraft knew something about purgatory.

Meanwhile, Ben is chilling in his room reading Cthulhu graphic novels while his mom is watching the sportsball with her new beau. Demons bust in and gut the boyfriend right away. One takes after Ben. Ben gets to his room and calls Dean in a panic. He doesn’t know what’s out there and he can’t get to the shotgun in Lisa’s closet. Dean tells him to jump out his window. It’s too late --Crowley’s there and has both Ben and Lisa.

Crowley tells Dean that no harm will come to them if he backs off from the purgatory plan.

Sam throws some salt on Dean’s wound and asks if Cas knows about this. “We gotta assume that he does.” OUCH.

While Bobby heads off to follow the Lovecraft lead, Dean and Sam set to finding Lisa and Ben. They summon Balthazar and tell him that Crowley is alive. He blinks and tells them Cas already informed him. They then tell him about splitting the souls in purgatory plan. Balthazar knew that too, ahem. He refuses to help find Ben and Lisa.

Sam thinks they should call Cas. “WE’RE NOT CALLING CAS.” This is a man in pain, Sam, he needs time.

Bobby, meanwhile, interviews someone who possesses a large collection of Lovecraft’s private letters. He asks about March 10, 1937 specifically, and the dude wonders if he’s working with the other guy --”trench coat, looks like Colombo, talks like Rainman.” We’re supposed to assume he’s describing Cas, but ?? okay. They’re competitors actually.

The guy tells Bobby that Lovecraft had a dinner party with other blackmagic followers. They were getting together to perform a ritual to open a door into another dimension. He has --or had-- letters describing the dinner. Bobby leaves, knowing exactly how the letters disappeared.

Bobby discusses the case with Sam, revealing that one guest of the party -the maid’s son- didn’t die and has been in a mental ward since that night. He’s gong to interview the man now.

Dean, meanwhile, is lining the demons up and taking them down if they don’t answer his questions.

For Murderous Rampage Science:

Sam tries to get his brother to take a break, but Dean is 100% on an emotional bender and will not stop. Sam then heads outside to pray to Cas --pleading with him to bring Ben and Lisa home.

When Cas doesn’t appear, Sam walks away, dejected. Only Cas is there, invisible to Sam. AND I WANT TO TEAR OUT MY EYES.

Cas confronts Crowley. Crowley was “merely exploiting the obvious loophole.” Cas demands he tell him where they are.

Crowley tells Cas the only way to save Lisa and Ben is for him to find Purgatory.

For Literal Science:

Cas flaps away when Balthazar summons him. They meet in a wooded area, and Balthazar confronts Cas about his partnership with Crowley.

Balthazar confirms that Cas would be the vessel to take on the souls from purgatory. He could explode from all that energy. Cas assures him he won’t (weeps). Cas demands Balthazar tell him if he’s with Cas, and Balthazar laughs but agrees.

Bobby interviews the maid’s son, and discovers Cas was already there. Bobby asks for the story. The man tells what was said at the time, but then asks, “Do you believe in monsters?” He tells Bobby that the door did open that night, and whatever came through took over his mother. Then the others died. Bobby gives his condolences to the man, and he shows Bobby a picture of his mother. Bobby recognizes her.

Dean prepares his Tortures for Demons™ when his foot drags part of the devil’s trap away. The demon immediately gets the drop on Dean, only for Cas to flap in (or turn visible) just in time to save Dean’s bacon.

Dean’s...ungrateful. Surly, even! Cas apologizes about Lisa and Ben, and he’s hurt when Dean doesn’t believe that he had nothing to do with their abduction.

“Dean, I do everything that you ask,” Cas pleads. “I always come when you call and I am your friend - still. Despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats.” Cas is just asking for backup this ONE TIME. (And you know what? Knowing the crap these Winchester boys have pulled, I always felt like Cas made a good point here.) They lob soulful looks at each other. Cas promises to rescue Lisa and Ben if Dean will just PLEASE stand down and let him absorb every single monster soul EVER it’s NOT A BIG DEAL. This is entirely the wrong tactic, and Dean tells Cas to go back to Crowley and he’ll save Lisa and Ben on his own.

Cas flaps away. Soulfully.

Bobby arrives at Eleanor-the-Dragon’s door. She’s at a little cabin in the middle of nowhere - one of her safe houses. He confronts her with the old photo and demands to know her agenda. “You know, we’re not all alike,” she retorts. She reacts similarly poorly to Bobby complaining about sleeping with her without knowing she was a monster. BOBBY! WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT RIGHT NOW. She tells him that the world’s lucky that she’s who popped through the portal. The professor is on Team Earth. Bobby begs to know the secret of the portal so that he can protect her from Cas.

Balthazar flaps in on Sam. He’s joining Team Winchester because he’s terribly concerned about Cas’s life choices. He flies them close to Crowley’s angel-warded lockup, and Dean and Sam swoop in to save Lisa and Ben.

They split up inside the warehouse - always a sensible plan. Sadly, Sam “Soft Noggin” Winchester gets knocked out IMMEDIATELY. Sam plz. Dean bursts into Lisa and Ben’s prison like a little angry blur of knives and in short order, he’s killed all the demons standing guard. They start to flee, when Lisa holds Ben at knifepoint, her eyes flashing black.

The demon goes all in on the mental torture, telling Ben that Dean’s his real father (JK!) and that Dean is Lisa’s WORST EVER MISTAKE. While Dean catalogues the internal damage, he and Lisa fight. He sheathes the demon blade and starts an exorcism, and I look directly at the camera. Demon Lisa’s got another trick up her sleeve. While the exorcism progresses, the demon grabs a tool and jabs it into Lisa’s gut. Then, she gives Dean a choice: exorcise her and Lisa bleeds out or let Lisa remain animate (but a demon puppet). Wrenchingly, Dean finishes the exorcism.

He makes sure Ben’s armed with a salt-round shotgun and then they head out of the factory. Ben shoots his first demon while Dean shouts at him to “pull it together” and I...just…….

Guys.

I’m just going to box these feelings up and stuff them in my Dean Winchester is a Sad Child attic, while humming Cat’s in the Cradle to myself.

They find Sam and head for a hospital, Dean muttering the whole time that she’s FINE Lisa is JUST FINE she is FINE. Cut to the hospital where Lisa is NOT FINE, but also is not dead! Yet!

Cas flaps in.

Dean refuses his apology. REFUSES IT. But Cas didn’t come to apologize. Okay, he DID, but he primarily came to heal Lisa miraculously. Dean looks up at him like he completely forgot that Cas can heal.

For Healing Cas Science:

In Jensen Ackles your face is a menace news, Dean displays grief, joy, relief, anger, betrayal, sad cat memes, and more in like less than five seconds of screen time. He thanks Cas for healing Lisa. “I wish this changed anything.” Regrets lie thickly between them. Dean asks for one more favor. He wants himself erased from Lisa and Ben’s memories for good.

When Lisa wakes, Ben explains that they were in a car crash. Dean enters, and introduces himself as the guy who hit them. GAH. The shitty things these characters do!!! Excuse me while I hurl knives at the wall for a solid thirty minutes!

“I lost control for a minute,” Dean says, not AT ALL metaphorically about their time together. “And I just want to say that I’m sorry.” He heads out, leaving the Braedens entirely unprotected from future supernatural threats and missing a substantial chunk of their lives. Hope Cas also cleaned up Matt’s body??? And the busted door??? (Side note: does anyone else have weird squid emotions thinking about Cas willfully blanking their memories when his own memories have been tampered with time and time again? I SURE DON’T!)

Dean meets judgmental Sam back at the Impala. Sam, I see your judgment, and I judge thee valid. Dean talks about his emotions in an open and healt----hahaha nope. Dean tells Sam that if he ever mentions the Braedens to him then he’ll break Sam’s nose. He punctuates that with mournful, red-rimmed eyes which definitely deal at least 1.5X damage against Sam’s puppy eyes. They drive off into the sad music.

Elsewhere, Eleanor Visyak leaves her cabin, only to encounter Cas behind her. Cas flaps her away. CAAAAAAAAS!

You QUOTE Miette??!!

Your chocolate's been in my peanut butter for far too long

What’s with the slow burn?

You’re just a man. I’m better off protecting myself

I’m officially on your team. You bastards

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #Lisa Braeden #Ben Braeden #spn 6x21 #let it bleed #supernatural season 6 #bobby singer #balthazar

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trainwreckss · 3 years

Text

╰ ❛ 💉 — › chris evans. cismale. he/him. . ╯ have you met garrett matthews yet ? this thirty seven year old scorpio has been living in the seattle area for two years. he makes a living as an orthopedic attending, which is best suited for their protective, generous, compulsive, and stubborn personality. born to run by bruce springsteen is one of their favorite songs, and they're written by annie, 25, est, she/her, n/a

UPDATES

garret left seattle emotional and sad after seeing his ex-wife! he had some soul searching to do. that searching led him to new mexico (bc idk its the vibe i have)

he went on a bender like any sad boi would. then he got himself some help and began to heal. he is still workin’, but he missed seattle. gotta beg for his job back! stat!

below is the same from before <3

BASIC INFORMATION

full name: garrett michael anthony david matthews

nickname(s): matthews, ‘mad’ matthews (in hs/college)

age: 37

date of birth: october 29, 1983

hometown: charlotte, north carolina

current location: seattle, washington

race/ethnicity: caucasian

nationality: american

gender: cismale

pronouns: he/him/his

orientation: heteroromantic, heterosexual

religion: agnostic

political affiliation: democratic socialist

occupation: attending orthopedic surgeon

living arrangements: alone in a loft, other side of town

language(s) spoken: french

accent: american

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: chris evans

hair color: dark brown

eye color: blue

height: 5′11

weight: 172 lbs

build: fit/athletic

tattoos: yes

piercings: n/a

clothing style: casual (but put together)

usual expression: soft, smile, grin

distinguishing characteristics: beard, blue eyes

HEALTH

physical ailments: n/a

neurological conditions: past depressive episodes

allergies: shellfish

sleeping habits: grinds teeth

eating habits: n/a

exercise habits: regular - daily morning workouts (running, cardio, crossfit, etc)

emotional stability: he has slipped into depressive episodes in the past because of the loss of his child; typically he’s at an 8, but it can dip quickly

sociability: often isolates after work, living alone, single, etc. he is very good around people though.

body temperature: average

addictions: alochol

drug use: n/a

alcohol use: socially, binge drinking

PERSONALITY

positive traits: protective, generous, caring, charismatic, kind, simple

negative traits: compulsive, stubborn, closed-off

fears: birds freak him out a little bit

hobbies: building furniture from scratch, watching late-night infomercials

FAVOURITES

weather: spring (a new start)

colour: lilac (reminds him of his daughter)

music: probably anything you would describe as ‘the classics’

movies: tbd.

sport: football, hockey

beverage: black coffee

food: calzones (ben wyatt who?)

animal: dogs, he would be the kind of guy to get a deer to trust him

FAMILY

father: patrick matthews, accountant

mother: grace matthews, english teacher

sibling(s): reese matthews (brother), aria matthews (sister)

children: mackenzie mae-matthews †

significant other: sutton reyes (ex-wife)

pet(s): n/a

family’s financial status: upper-middle class

ADDITIONAL CONTEXT

garrett matthews was raised in an upper-middle class, happy family. he had a privileged upbringing, access to a quality education, and he didn’t want for anything.

garrett matthews met sutton reyes when they were both juniors in high school. they were the picture perfect high school couple, and they decided to marry while in college at age 21. mackenzie mae matthews was born, roughly, nine months later. after graduation, garrett decided to go to medical school.

at 26-years-old, garrett began in the surgical residency program at nyu. shortly after, his daughter was diagnosed with non-hodgkin’s lymphoma.

while mackenzie was sick, garrett spent every spare moment by her bedside. however, for a surgical resident, this did not amount to a lot of time. he began to fall behind in his residency and receive pressure from his superiors to step it up. this is why garrett agreed to be part of an organ recovery team one evening during his second year of residency. he could not turn down anymore opportunities. it was this night that mackenzie took her last breaths and passed away, without her father at her bedside.

mackenzie’s death broke garrett. he felt tremendous guilt. he had abandoned his daughter for a surgery. sutton couldn’t even look at him. she hated him, and she told him often. she filed for divorce a few months after mackenzie’s funeral.

garrett started off on a long, complicated spiral. he experienced, what could probably be characterized as, a series of depressive episodes. he began binge drinking. he fell further and further down, always resorting to alcohol to drown away his guilt. he probably would have lost everything if his mentor hadn’t eventually pulled him out.

garrett got back on his feet. he dedicated himself to helping other people through his work. he wanted to be the best person he could be--for mackenzie. he started to get his life back together (although he was never able to admit he had a drinking problem...he remains adamant that he is not, nor was he ever, an alcoholic; his problem is ‘under control).

when given the chance, garrett moved to the other side of the country to escape some of his more painful memories. he accepted a fellowship at seattle presbytarian before becoming an attending surgeon at seattle grace.

garrett carries mackenzie with him. he is inspired everyday by his beautiful, courageous, generous child. she is why he is so committed to being the kind and caring man he is. he smiles a lot more now. although, at the end of the day, he always goes home alone.

#traumaintro #& ─ about : who tells your story?#tw death #tw child loss

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kittybellestark · 3 years

Text

Falling Apart At The Seams

Part 4 of 5

Read Part 3

Read on AO3

Part 5 will be out a little bit late because I have to drive across the country and back to get my brother, but it is already written so have no fears, you will receive the final part.

TW: conversations about past sexual assault, ptsd, trauma post kidnapping.

Tony was used to being kidnapped.

It was old hat. An easy routine. Get kidnapped, find out who has him, learn the motive, then pull out a bad ass move and break out.

Simple.

Coming back and re-adjusting to regular life though? That always hurt. Sometimes it was physical but most of the time it was mental. Finding a new pattern and safe space. Places where Tony used to feel his safest were regularly torn from him, beds, showers, garages. He didn’t find much comfort in the dark, or looking up at the sky at night, pools and baths were a nightmare and these were all things he once loved. Tony just needed to do this again.

It was always a struggle for Tony. His mind was always too fast, it was why he couldn’t sleep as a child or even now. His mind goes too fast and it’s impossible to stop. Tony was never able to describe what it felt like to think to others, but he imagined it as NASCAR on drugs with trains derailing, there was heaviness and music and commercials, impossible to solve problems and lectures from MIT. Where most people would already be moving on from being kidnapped Tony was still living through it, the entire experience on repeat, volume turned all the way up. Re-adjusting was the hardest part.

If he was anyone else, it probably wouldn’t be like this.

Tony hated the shame he felt being wheeling into the tower. He hated that Peter was in the room, listening to Mary shouting her confessions as she pulled and pushed trying to get out of the grips of Natasha and Clint. Screaming desperately to Peter that she wanted to give him another sibling, how Peter was named after his father. Watching Peter’s face fall, watching him realize who Tony was as he was rolled in behind Mary on a gurney- that was torture.

And Tony was helpless. Normally Tony would talk, say something to Peter, anything to get that look off his face. The look of betrayal, hurt, denial. But none of this was normal. It’s not normal to find out you’re abandoned child is also the one you invite into your home and watch movies and create things with.

Tony was still dealing with the effects of the drug as he was wheeled in, which left him incapable of doing anything. Useless, even.

Peter didn’t deserve this.

“... Because it was an Avenger arrest and Mary admitted to what happened in 2000 she’s going to be held in a secure Avengers facility instead. Jimmy said the FBI approved Peter and May staying in New York because of everything.”

Sure, yeah, an Avenger arrest. It was mostly a Pepper arrest. Pepper was definitely the strongest Avenger. And she wasn’t even an Avenger. Well a case could be made for her being an honourary Avenger. An Avenger by association.

“Rhodey, I appreciate you, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

Pepper moved across Tony’s Medbay room, staying behind Rhodey, careful to keep her distance. Rhodey frowned, squeezing Tony’s hand. Tony squeezed back, thankful to have a wonderful med-team who reversed the drug’s effects instead of making him wait it out.

“Tony,” Pepper spoke softly, carefully, “Peter is your child, he is upstairs hurt and confused. I know it’s going to take you time to come to terms with everything, no one is expecting any less. But, that child you thought you’d never meet is here and you know how good he is.”

Peter was good. Undoubtedly one of the best kids out there. Kind, caring, doing his absolute best. Peter was a treasure. An anomaly. Spent the first half of his life in an abusive home, put into witness protection, full identity change and still lived a life full of trauma. And yet Peter was full heartedly kind. And he was Tony’s son. His child. The one he sent years running away from. Peter came from bad, lived right through it all still trying to make it to the other side.

He was a ray of sunshine to Tony and the Avengers. Bright eyed and still so innocent, yet incredibly snarky. But the memories, they’re tainted now. Which of Peter’s mannerisms come from Mary? What parts of Peter come from Tony. Every moment from lab days to movie nights, team dinners all covered with the memories of what Tony did to Peter. And what Mary did to Tony. Tony left him with Mary to grow up, let him be in her presence and learn from her.

It’s been fifteen years of guilt. Sixteen years of self-hatred. Twenty-four hours a day re-living the feeling of absolute torture. Five years of not being able to wear a watch because it felt too much like he was being chained. Eight years where Tony couldn’t sleep on a bed that touched a wall. Tony has struggled since the moment he woke up on the creaky mattress. He has struggled every time he goes outside to see someone who is pregnant, and whenever he see’s a child.

“I don’t know if I can. I’m not- I can’t- what if I look at him and can’t see anything past her. I can’t be a person he can go to if I see him and only remember where he came from.”

Peter was upstairs. His child, his son, who he abandoned. Tony knew that child Mary was carrying was his, of course he knew. He was forced to watch her as her pregnancy progressed up until the start of the third trimester. Mary ruined Tony’s life in the quest for a child. Tony didn’t want to ruin Peter’s life because he was running from the months of torture and a child he never met.

It isn’t like Peter’s life hasn’t already been filled with trauma. Peter already had to deal with being in witness protection, Mary trying to kill him, kidnap and sell him. Now not only would Peter learn how he was a product of rape, but he’s been raped too. Not only was Peter the product of rape, he was named after Tony. Mary had named Peter after the person she raped, and how was Peter supposed to live with that knowledge? Tony could hardly stand it himself.

“If you’re worried about Peter because of your past, then you’re already doing better than you think you are.”

Pepper was too nice to him. She was too nice to a person who knowingly abandoned their child. Tony set Peter up for a life of misery. Because of Tony Peter had to go through all that he did. What happened to Peter was all Tony’s fault. He should have done better. Tony should have done better the night he was taken, and he should have done better when his fate was sealed. Instead Tony didn’t only let himself suffer but Peter as well.

A knock at the door stopped the conversation from moving any further.

May Parker stood there, and it was obvious that she was tired. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun, her face red, and there was a fading water stain on her old grey sweater. Even though she looked exhausted she kept herself to stand in a guarded way, like she was trying to keep the exhaustion and emotions away.

“I have a teen upstairs who exhausted himself out from his hysterical crying. A super soldier had to restrain Peter to stop him from hurting himself. We need to talk. Any chance we can be alone?”

Peter needed to be restrained. He was hurting himself in his hysteric’s and Tony couldn’t help but blame himself. If he had done better, looked at the pictures or not been kidnapped again Peter wouldn’t be in pain. Mary said everything, she screamed it all for Peter to know and now Peter was hurting. Tony should have been better. He could have done more to make sure this never happened. Peter was hurting because of the truth and the way it was delivered. Things should have been explained to Peter in a better way. Peter didn’t deserve this.

“Uh,” Tony hesitated. Pepper left the room but Rhodey stayed. “I’m sorry, Rhodey needs to stay here. I can’t- uh, we’ll not even get to a conversation if he leaves.”

Her eyebrows raised, but she seemed to accept this stepping into the room anyways.

Tony tried to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by her presence. That her brown hair wasn’t actually brown, that May wasn’t a woman standing over him in bed. She was just Peter’s aunt. May wasn’t Mary even if her name was one letter removed. Rhodey is here and he won’t let anything happen. He’s had Tony’s back since MIT, it’s not like Rhodey will turn his back on Tony now. They’ve been through too much together.

“So you and Mary?” The rest of the question left unsaid.

“He was born in April, right? Of 2001?”

Looking at May wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t using her nice face. She was too close. Tony was too guilty. He never should have left that party, not with Mary. It would have been so much easier if that night he’d gone to Happy and Rhodey before he left. Everything would have been easier had he just taken some responsibility.

“So you knew you had a child,” Angry, May was so Angry. Tony just needed to not think about it, “you knew about Peter.”

Rhodey’s hand was warm. Tony appreciated the comfort he was getting despite not doing anything that deserved it. If anything Tony deserved to be punished for what he’d done. For abandoning Peter with Mary. For letting himself get kidnapped by her again.

“I went missing in 2000. About half way through the year. Suddenly I reappeared in January of 2001. Rumors went around that I was in rehab or other’s believe it was a really bad bender, we never denied any of it. No one knew what actually happened until two years ago when I told Pepper what happened. I was supposed to be a playboy, no one was going to believe me.”

The silence was deafening.

Every second that May didn’t speak was another second that Tony imagined a slow, painful death at her hands. She wouldn’t believe Tony, there’s no reason she should. Tony had a reputation, and people couldn’t see past that. He put on an impeccable mask for the public to tear apart so no one would know what he’s actually like. It was a great mask, a great cover, a great story, but it had come back to haunt him before and this will just be the same. May wasn’t going to believe that Tony Stark, Iron Man, an Avenger, was kidnapped by some Mary Benson. No one was going to believe him.

He never wanted anyone to know.

What if no one believed Tony? He would lose all his friends, his life. Tony would only have Pepper and Rhodey. While once in his life they were all he had, now Tony had so much more. He didn’t want to lose the people he had now because of one person.

Tony needed to be alone. He can’t do this. Mary ruined his life, both now and sixteen years ago. She took a hold of Tony’s life and wouldn’t let go.

“So Peter is... Mary raped you?”

That was disbelief. That was disbelief. May didn’t believe him. Tony never gave her any opportunities to actually believe him. He took Peter out of the country without her consent and never told May about Spider-Man. Those were very big reasons to never believe a word out of his mouth. Tony wasn’t trustworthy. May will think things were the other way around. Of course she will, these things don’t happen to a guy because of a girl.

Tony needed to breath. He needed to answer May.

Words. Tony just needed to find words. He needed to answer her. Words. They do the things that lets him communicate. Words have always been easy. He just needed to vocalize. Admit what happened to someone who isn’t Pepper or Rhodey. Just confirm it.

Speak, Tony. Speak!

“Yes,” Rhodey answered, his voice strained, “Mary kidnapped him and abused him for months. Peter only exists because of it. Tony never wanted what happened to him and he’s been struggling ever since.”

Again there was silence.

The silence wasn’t very nice. It was tense and it hurt, sharp around all the edges. And Tony’s chest hurt and this was all his fault. There was no one else to blame. Tony should have done better.

“Oh. Tony... You- oh.”

She understood?

May understood. She understood. There wasn’t going to be screaming or yelling or arms waving in the air. No telling Tony he’s a bad person or that he’s a liar and did everything that Mary actually did. He wasn’t being told he was wrong for abandoning Peter or that he should own up to his mistakes. There was just understanding.

Tony finally looked up at her. His eyes were filled with tears making May blurry. But he could see her enough to see the pain she was in. The pain he created was written all across her body. Her hunched shoulders, the hands covering her face, the space between her eyebrows creased, the way May was leaning completely forward. Tony caused her pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, May.”

May straightened herself out, letting herself sob only once. “Tony, it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. Peter won’t either. We’re family now so we’ll get through it. We’ve got this”

Family. Huh. How about that.

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#irondad #spiderson #tony stark #bio dad tony stark #may parker #pepper potts #rhodey #mary parker #peter parker #ironman #irondad and spiderson #avengers #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu

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harrysbbby · 5 years

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Hi 👋🏻 can you write a headcanon dating Peter Parker and having power like Supergirl or Wonder Woman ? ❤️

· You met Peter after the Thanos disaster

· You had been recruited by SHIELD as a young kid, after being found in the wreckage of an abandoned building not too far from a Soviet prisoner camp

· You had been in their protection, and they did not know whether you had been born with these powers, or if you had been experimented on to be given them (and you didn't know either, as your memory had been wiped over and over again.)

· (you would later find out that it was half-half: your lineage was with an ancient community of extinct warriors, giving you super strength and stamina, but the Soviets had increased your abilities, allowing you to produce massive energy currents leading to explosions.)

· After SHIELD fell, you were moved to a safe house in New York, courtesy of Tony Stark. You were still only young, so you tried to blend in- attend school but would go to the Avengers facility occasionally for training and for Tony to experiment with tech to control your powers

· After Tony's death you were devastated

· You met Peter at his funeral, as Pepper introduced you two. You both created a bond as Tony's somewhat surrogate children

· You became friends as you finished high school at your respective schools, studying in the afternoons and fighting crime late into the night.

· You were both accepted to the Empire State University and decided to move in together to study your undergrad degrees

· With this, came many long nights of cramming, and the stresses of trying to keep the world safe

· But you also began to see each other in a different light- how cuddly you would both be watching a movie late at night, comforting each other when mid-terms stressed you out, and how a morning where the scent freshly cooked bacon would be met with blushing faces over hot cups of coffee

· The most significant moment was when you were wrestling over the tv remote (you were hell bent on rewatching Avatar: The Last Air Bender and Peter was insisting on watching the new season of Queer Eye) when you had rolled on top of him. Your noses were so close they touched, and as Peter went to lean in, you sent a zap of energy to the tips of your fingers, making him drop the remote

· You laughed as you sat up after seizing the remote from his hand, and he sat up with you, and after your giggle subsided, an awkward silence developed… until he kissed you.

· So now you did more couple-y things together: he would swing you to the top of a building, where you would find a candle-lit picnic set up to watch the sunset, or you would go on a cute date, where you would end up piggy-backing him all the way home.

· He was the best boyfriend, and you would always back each other up on missions, but it brought up issues

· "Why don't you want me on the mission?"

· "Because I don't want you to get hurt!"

· "Get hurt? What about you getting hurt?"

· "That doesn't matter, I just don’t want you gone!"

· "Doesn't matter, why not?"

· "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

· Peter would use his webs to pull him towards you

· Throwing grapes at him but him catching every single on cause of his spidey sense

· "Peter! What did I say about leaving web fluid in the bathroom!"

· Your energy would spark when you got butterflies in your stomach

· "Ouch, you zapped" "Only cause I loveeee you" "Aw"

· Peter forgetting you have powers and being shook when you just casually lift something super heavy

· One night the power goes out after you and Peter had been up for a few days straight, from studying and being heroes and you use your powers to light a candle, and you're both so delirious you can't stop laughing

· Essentially being super cute, getting each other through hard times and saving the world with each other by your side

#peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #request

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merrysithmas · 5 years

Text

some POPPER-centric hcs:

Boris and Theo celebrating Popper's birthday together for two years, waking up at two in the afternoon, blinds drawn tight - but not tight enough to banish the bright gleam of treasure chest gold that flares through the slits between them, 777 Vegas coin yellow, graffitiing malleable stripes of desert sun across the walls and crumpled sheets. Theo peeking a tired eye over the coverlet from under Boris' arm, little Popper’s big cookie-round ink eyes already awake and staring at him, tail wagging bashfully against the sheets in the silence.

Boris, who was snoring just a moment ago, starts up, suddenly, electrified, hollering a gasping realization that sounds something like, “Moy malchik!” The sound pops a breaker in Theo’s brain, letting loose a migraine from last night's bender, which is evidenced by the toppled pill bottles (Xandra's), the semi-collapsed beer cans and the vague memory of Boris' stoned over-confidence ("Potter! Look - against my head - watch - I bet I can - like the movies!"), and the ultimately ignorable ache of his hamstrings.

At Boris' startling exclamation Popper lets loose an exuberant tirade of ungodly shrieking, like set off by the crack of a gun at race he was raring for, immediately licking Boris' morning-slick skin, teenaged greasy and gross, and Boris is laughing so loud that the walls almost shake, as they are so regularly starved and thin of joy. And Theo sits up, wincing (that phantom ache again, inadmissible memories) and leans on his elbow, reaching out to pat the wild little thing who quickly turns on him, "Ok - Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"

II.

Boris and Theo washing Popper in the sink - he reeks. Sickly sweet rotten fruit-smell compounded with the wet mildewy stench of old laundry, distinctly intermixed with the odor of shit. Popper’s yelping echoes through the kitchen like an antique car horn, petrified, claws rigid on the edge of the sink, braced for continued frantic attempts to flee his sudsy prison and energized with bouts of fervor not entirely unlike a demonic possession. The one overhead light fixed accusatorily above the kitchen sink makes the whole set up look like an interrogation room - worlds away from the girly relaxing grooming videos they found on Youtube.

“Potter! Not this way!" Boris screeches - voice cracking like it has been lately - exacerbated in its rawness by the cheap, caustic brand of cigarettes he smokes. Lately they’ve been meeting the parched maw of his chapped lips like a consecutive line of ants, one after the other, his fingernails yellowing. Popper shakes violently, way before Theo is ready and can throw the ratty towel across his drenched body, whirling like a windmill, fur centripetal and spiralling, soaking their filthy t-shirts flat onto their bony bruised limbs.

“Oh, Popper," Boris outright coos, followed by a placating barrage of what is unmistakably a grandmotherly coddle of (likely) Polish. "You look just like Potter!" he declares, finally discarding his ciagrette, which dims in the puddle on the counter as it sucks up water. Theo grabs it as it does, revives it, takes a long, charring drag of nicotine and tar. His eyes narrow behind his glasses, observing the drowned-rat Maltese, frigid and shaking to its bones, and completely hates how Popper's forlorn appearance quite accurately recalls his own reflecton, just in from the pool, hair flat to his head, eyes big and, somehow always, helpless.

III.

Boris and Theo say goodbye to Popper when he is fifteen. Congestive heart failure - a diagnosis so deleterious and uncomfortably human Theo finds it hard to believe when the middle-aged vet ("Dr Janet", purple earrings, thick rectangular glasses - incense burning, loose leaf tea drinking, National Park lover) breaks it to him. She seems to understand the frozen bones in his shoulders and his unexpected quietness better than he does, leaving the room before he notices she’s gone.

Even in the darkest edges of his flayed existentialisms Theo never found room for dogs. Dogs, he supposes for the first time, in an achingly unfair realization, with their bright renewable resource of happiness (which they often give freely even to the undesevering, or unknowning, or unappreciative) are immune to such nihilistic musings. Popper stares at him from the table, ragged and old, too heavy in the middle and too thin on the edges, breathing all wrong. How did - all that time pass?

Boris, on video-chat in Kyyiv, up to no nefarious deed (he insists) is the one, for once, startled by Theo’s harsh red eyes, like he's been doping too much again, but there’s no dope - just a clinical setting and a hard shuddering breathing, from somewhere offscreen, quiet like it’s coming from a baby in crib.

Boris, like a knitted sweater, so often and inevitably pulled in many different directions until he disappears, seems to swat away half a dozen Non-English speaking acquaintances before the line goes quiet on his end and Theo can actually explain what is going on. The way he touches the screen on the video chat with his fingertips when Theo presents it to Popper (“Let me see him please,” Boris had asked, with no hidden heartbreak) makes Theo’s chest crush inward like the emotional equivalent of the impact of a car accident.

Boris says no at first, when Theo makes the suggestion, no let him go when he's supposed to, not yet, then: let me see him first, and makes it all the way to JFK before his phone rings. He doesn't answer, won't, but when he walks in the jingling door from the merciless city rain, the black tails of his coat dragging water, all sharp angles and dark shadows, he already knows.

“He couldn’t wait anymore,” Theo says. And when he meets Theo’s cherry red eyes, Boris doesn’t yell, or get angry - he cries. Right there in the lobby - he cries. Hands shielding his eyes, like a boy cowering beneath the shade of an umbrella.

IV.

Later they bump coke in the bathroom of Gramercy Tavern, shitfaced at the table, “Remember when he ate Xandra’s G-string?” Theo says so loudly it rings across the room like a papal blessing.

“Aha! Yes! So sneaky. Little pervert! Gets that from you! And the time he shit in the grocery store? Aisle 12?”

The memories pour out: “His fucking pink collar with the bell on it.” “How he howl like - ooo ooo oooo! So annoying! Always in the morning! Yes, Popchyk! I’m coming!” “Oh when we caught him fucking The Playa’s chihuahua?” “да, I told him he could do better! He was nice boy she was not so nice. Still, he got more ass than either one of us,” Boris says fondly, proudly, and clinks his shotglass to Theo for what seems like the hundreth time.

“Something deeply not right about catching a Maltese in the throes of passion,” Theo says, blinking long-disturbed eyes behind the dewy lenses of his glasses. Boris seems to agree, with a noncomittal grunt, and puts a heavy, vice-like grip onto Theo’s shoulder, shaking him until he looks up.

“Like a teddy bear getting a blowjob,” he says, and Theo laughs a half-choked laugh. They’re both crying. They’re both fucking crying.

“To Popchyk née Popper, G-string sniffer, pillow hat, accomplished singer,” Theo sniffs, sitting up straightly from his messy, hunched position over the table, head back against the booth. Boris meets his eyes, they’re both such a fucking mess. “And friend.”

“Vichnaya pamyat,” Boris says formally, in response. Theo smashes his glass, agreeing.

“Eternal memory.”

“Open any one! Any one you want!” Boris crows happily, the tip of his nose red like he’s been outside in the cold but he hasn’t, not for hours, and the sloshing bottle of Christmas cheer which is sitting (carelessly, without a coaster, Theo notices with disdain) on the mahogany side table is nearly empty at only half past noon. “Oh! My big mistake!” Boris makes a big show of putting his hand to his chest in guilt, elevating the bottle and placing it on top of a book instead. “блядь,” he scoffs.

“I know what ‘bitch’ in Russian is,” Theo answers, wrapped warmly in a woolen Burberry pullover, burgundy, with the festive forest green cuffs of his starched button up curling around the ends of his sleeves. Snow is falling outside like white wafting butterflies, the stone Antwerp architecture nestled under frost, Tchaikovsky on the speakers hooked up to Boris’ sentimental iPhone.

“I know!” Boris says cheerily, gesturing towards the presents beneath the tree with a sweeping, encouraging hand. “Any one!”

Theo rolls his eyes, but as they land on the smattering of gifts wrapped festively on the dark hardwood floor his mood lifts. Picking up a small one, dark matte navy blue with a silver ribbon Boris exclaims offendedly -

“No! Any one!” he repeats, taking the blue one out of Theo’s hands and replacing it with a rather less elegant medium-sized red box, bundled together with a haphazard green string. “This one!”

The oddly-weighted box quivers in his grip, a strange feeling which sends an unexpected thrill of fear through Theo, “What is this.”

“Open!” Boris goads. “Just look!” he seems pleased with himself, taking another long hit off the joint that is smoking in the ash tray and then rubbing his palms together and leaning forward over his knees, eagerly like a kid.

The box is easy to open, just a cover over a base, which Theo lifts to reveal the small fuzzy face of a tiny, tiny round dog, so extremely gay, circular in the face like a teddy bear, pawing at the side of the box.

“You like her?” Boris asks with the trepidation of new fallen snow, peering over Theo’s shoulder.

The puppy stares at him, unblinking and cherubic, and softly licks Theo’s nose. It happily lets out the shrillest bark from its tiny lungs, a sound so high-pitched it makes the bells on the tree tingle in the vaguest memory of tinnitus.

“Ah, бубенчик Popchykova!” Boris laughs.

Theo hoists the little thing up, blinking tree lights ensconsing the ball of its fuzz, an ornament-shape itself - the puppy wriggles disorganized limbs in midair, pawing innocently for warmth and closeness. Somehow smaller, more effeminate, and more annoying than his last dog. He loves her already. Round cookie-shaped eyes and a bark that splits his skull. And the name?

It fits.

#the goldfinch #boreo #popchyk borysovych decker pavlikovsky #i have a lot of feelings abt popper ok

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