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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 2

Part 1 here.

An AU in which James/Lily are somehow still alive, and Harry chooses to continue living with Sirius and Remus.

July 1995

James hated that time with his son had to be supervised. Or perhaps, had, was the wrong word because that wasn’t anything the ministry stipulated or Sirius and Remus enforced. No, they were supervised because his kid, the kid he had held when he was minutes old wasn’t comfortable being alone with him. With them.

Lily who had carried Harry for nine months was called ma'am, because Harry wasn't sure what to call her when she was speaking to him. A single vowel was a world of difference.

Harry looked to Sirius before speaking and answering questions.

Harry sat close to Remus at the table.

Harry reached for Sirius when they went anywhere together, afraid to be separated for too long. Even if Sirius stepped away to the kitchen, Harry stood up to go with him, not wanting to be alone with people he called strangers instead of Mum and Dad.

Harry asked if Remus was allowed to come if Harry was invited for dinner, or for a quick game of 1:1 Quidditch in the backyard at the Potter’s home.

James had foolishly believed that simply arriving, existing, living would be enough to form a bond and make up for the almost fifteen years he didn’t get. He had dizzy daydreams and fantasies, while kept away from the world with Lily, of strolling into Grimmauld Place and seeing Harry run into his arms; bursting with energy and affection for a man he had only seen in pictures. Instead, it was…static. Like when you had to hit the wireless a few times to get it to stop skipping, magical signals getting crossed. Not quite bad, not quite good. Just busted and broken. Everything was just…off-kilter and Harry was acting accordingly, skirting around James and Lily whenever physical affection was attempted.

James had gotten a high five once and it had felt like a miracle. Because that’s where he was with his son.

His son.

Holding his breath and holding onto hope for a high-five.

They all sat around the dinner table at the Potters’ home, James trying to find some sense of relief at hearing Sirius’s laugh after years of being deprived of it, or the way his two best friends still held hands at the table like they were sixteen. When would the good--the lightness he felt to be here with his family at all--replace the bitterness on the tip of his tongue. When would he stop stirring resentment into his tea every morning and start calling it gratitude?

“We were thinking, Harry, that you might like to have your birthday here?” asked Lily hopefully. “You can invite your friends and we would love to meet them, now that we can. It’s been years since we’ve seen the Weasley’s."

“It’s been years since you’ve seen anyone,” Harry remarked, moving a carrot around on his plate, not making eye contact. That particular day, Sirius had informed them Harry hadn’t wanted to come.

He’s fourteen, he’s in a mood…it’s nothing on you, he just wanted to stay in his room today.

James tried to pretend those words didn’t sting. Because it was just another reminder that the bedroom at their home, the one they had told Harry he could decorate if he wanted, was just blank and empty. A metaphor for a relationship that hadn’t begun to be foraged or made comfortable.

Lily and James were white, barren walls. Not good, not bad, just there.

“Yes…that’s…true,” Lily admitted, “We’re happy to host your party, is what I mean. We have a backyard, you can play Quidditch.”

“Is it bigger than Number 12?”

“Harry.” Sirius said softly, and Harry looked up at him, “I think they’re about the same size, love.”

“Sure, we can have my party here, I guess,” Harry said after a moment of wordless conversation between him and Sirius, “Nothing big, though.”

“So, just the Weasleys then?” Remus teased gently, “The whole lot of them already makes it big.”

Harry seemed to perk up at the slight, “I think Ron eats enough for like four people, so, maybe they are plenty. And…Hermione and…Cedric, I think.”

“Who’s Cedric?”

“Cedric Diggory,” Sirius told him, “Remember Amos? He was a few years ahead in Hufflepuff? His kid.”

“My boyfriend.” Harry added, so nonchalantly, “He plays seeker too.”

There was a small silence as the words wrapped themselves around James’s brain. Not that James had a problem with it, and he knew Lily felt the same; but the thought that in another world, in another lifetime…there was a James who wasn’t the last to know. There was a James who Harry told first. And it simply wasn’t that time.

Dead of night and James was woken up by lights turning on and the sound of clambering in the kitchen. James grabbed his wand, moving down the hall, only to find Harry frantically searching in drawers, running a hand through his hair as he did so. James heard faint sniffing sounds as if Harry was holding back tears.

“Harry?” James asked, “It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing up?”

“I want to go home, I want to go home now and I didn’t bring my mirror to call Sirius and-and- I don’t know where you keep the floo powder and it’s stupid and I want to go home and-and I'm sorry and I just want to go home, please. Please.” Harry’s words came out quick and sharp, sending daggers into James’ chest.

He had been so excited, the few days before his fifteenth when Harry agreed to stay the night. Sirius and Remus had left after dinner and he had felt impossibly normal to be in the sitting room together, with popcorn and a film on the television. Lovely to hear Harry’s laugh; so effortless to sit next to him on the couch with cups of tea, the conversation easier than it had ever been as they learned more about each other. It had felt so right, to say goodnight to Harry when it got late--ignoring the loose bedtime Sirius and Remus had told them about in favor of just one more game of wizard's chess because time felt more important than sleep--with a promise to see him in the morning. They had made plans.

Harry loved to make pancakes. Harry loved to help cook and James had had trouble falling asleep he was so excited for morning to come.

Restless until he wasn’t, now standing in the kitchen, his son in tears and James hadn’t a clue what to do.

“Are you…not feeling well--”

“I want to go home,” he repeated stopping his search for floo powder, “I can’t sleep, I-I’m sorry, you’ve been great, but I want to go home and I’m tired and--”

“How about I make you a cup of tea, Harry? That usually helps me--”

“I don’t want tea, I don’t want to sit, either help me find floo powder or--” James walked closer, making to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to comfort his teenager now wiping away tears with the palm of his hand, “--don’t touch me! I don’t want to be cheered up, I don’t want you! I want Sirius and I want to go home and if you’re not going to be helpful then find someone who will be!” Harry’s voice had raised slightly, stepping away from James, bumping into the counter as he did so.

James’ hand was left floating in mid-air as if awaiting a high-five that wasn’t going to come.

James swallowed, “I’ll…let me get Sirius.”

And he did. Sirius barely through the floo when arms were wrapped around his waist, and James watched as his son....

his son

cried into his best friend’s shirt over having spent the night in a place…that Harry was supposed to call home.

It's not you, he's...just tired. I promise.

Sirius was the patron saint of lying through his teeth, in an attempt to make James feel better. But they both knew, after Sirius had to wait in the sitting room for 10 minutes for tears to subside before flooing back to Number 12 that it absolutely was James.

“We have to do something,” Lily said when they were in their bedroom after hosting Harry’s birthday party. So many firsts when they should’ve been fifteenth. The first time meeting his friends, the first time meeting his boyfriend watching as Harry looked for permission to disappear for a moment from Sirius, his hand tucked into Cedric’s hand; the first time Harry had a chocolate cake to blow candles out of instead of a rhubarb crumble.

It’s okay, he loves chocolate too. You didn’t know.

Which was the whole point. James didn't know.

An impossible puzzle to solve no matter how much time James spent looking at it, willing answers to appear.

“Lils, I don’t know what you think we should do.”

“Something!” She exclaimed helplessly. “I know we need to give it time so he gets to know us, but I feel like we’re not even getting the opportunity because…why would he want to? He clearly…is happy with Remus and Sirius. Why would he want to get to know us at all? We can’t compete with that and quite honestly, we shouldn’t have to. He’s our son. We left him to Sirius in the event something happened to us. Nothing did! And now what?”

“I…just don’t know what we can do.”

“Something.”

“You keep saying that, and...I think we just let it take some time. Eventually…he’ll want to stay over here…again.” Since being picked up in the middle of the night, the topic of sleepovers hadn’t even been broached. The latest Harry would stay was ten, and he’d floo back to Number 12, apologizing every step of the way.

I’m sorry, I know I should want to stay here.

I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a baby about this.

I’m sorry, I just need more time. I…I’m sorry it’s not how you probably wanted it to be.

I know that I'm letting you down. I know this is disappointing.

I'm sorry.

James felt the exact same.

“See that? That wasn’t confident at all. We’ve already missed fifteen years and we’re going to lose two more.” Lily said, climbing into bed and leaning back against the pillows, “We should go back to the ministry.”

“And do what? Hope they can conjure a loophole?”

“Yes.”

“I was joking.”

“Nothing about this is funny, James,” she said, “He calls me ma'am. I carried him for nine months and...I don't even get to be his mum?"

"I know...it's hard. I'm sorry."

"I think I need them to spend longer than a week looking at the laws surrounding this. And maybe that’s asking for trouble, given Sirius is a bloody politician now--did you see that coming by the way?”

“Not at all.” James couldn’t help but smile thinking about this particular part of Sirius’s life. He had gone to work with him, sitting in Sirius’s cushy office, the two of them passing jokes back and forth while Sirius perused legal texts and organized notes. Sirius had never been one to talk about his future, always waving it off saying he was going to lounge about on his piles of money and get a dog, despite having top marks and a charm that could get him anywhere. The first years were spent raising his kid. And now they were spent trying to fix the holes in the wizarding system. It was strange, hearing younger councilors approach Sirius and call him Mr. Black; stranger to hear Sirius talk about legalities and statutes when they were in front of the minister discussing custody in the first place.

“I’m just…I think it’s worth a shot.”

“It is looking for trouble, Lily…”

“You’ve always been quite good at that.”

Continue to part 3

#the best worst thing #wolfstar #jily #raising harry #this one doesn't hurt i promise #dribbling

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4-horsemen-of-the-riordanverse · 3 years

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Why The Percy Jackson Adaptation Should Be Animated

We can have Heroes of Olympus/Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase series

Percy shows up in four of Rick’s five (at this time) mythology series, those four series have eighteen books spanning six years

Even if Disney could crank out say three in two years, that’s still twelve years, the actors playing Percy, and Annabeth, and Grover, and Thalia, and Clarisse, and many more will be in their twenties when all the books are covered and that’s on a sped up timeline that is unlikely to work in reality

The reality is, we probably won’t get a Heroes of Olympus television series and we definitely won’t get a Trials of Apollo or Magnus Chase series, which is sad as many favorite characters won’t be seen

Grover, Thalia Chiron, and the Gods won’t age

Yes, technically Grover does age, so that title is a bit of a misnomer, but he ages slower than the others, either the whole he’s actually twenty-eight, but satyrs age slower will need to be axed, or he will have to be played by an adult so that he doesn’t age, which will look strange since he’s suppose to look fourteen/fifteen for the entire series

Grover is only a small problem though, how are they going to deal with Artemis or Hestia, both of whom are portrayed as very young ages, the twelve year old playing Artemis will be fourteen, minimum (though, if we want good cgi, she’ll be more likely around sixteen) by the time the show reaches The Last Olympian

Plus, Thalia is suppose to stop aging at fifteen, again, I suppose an adult could play her, it isn’t unheard of for adults to play fifteen/sixteen year olds, but unless they get an actor with a serious baby face, she’ll stand out amongst the children and teens playing the other characters

It’ll be bearable to watch in ten years

Cgi is improving everyday, which is great....until you watch something that’s more that a few years old, when we have newer and better cgi, the monsters and action of Percy Jackson is going to look....well we’ll remember that it looked good once

That is, if they pay attention to details, skimming over detail, especially when making living things with cgi, you risk falling into the uncanny valley (I’m most of us have seen at least a clip of Lion King 2019), if something is off, we will notice, even if we can’t place why

We can have it sooner

Animation for animated series are easier to make than animation for live action series, they don’t have to worry about matching the lighting and shadows because they get to choose the lighting and shadows, no need to worry how the actors are interacting with the animated monster (ex. the Percy actor bumps into Mrs. O’Leary, then goes to pet her, but moves his hand too far forward and now that has to be accounted for)

The battles will probably cause the most delays, anyone watch Game of Thrones? remember how long the final season took to get out? that was because of the major battles spanning multiple episodes, which is exactly what The Last Olympian will be

They wouldn’t have to use child actors

This isn’t a bash on child actors, there are some good ones out there, what I’m concerned about is the children’s well being

Ever read or watch an interview from an ex child actor, especially Disney child actors, it’s brutal and takes a toll on their mental health, there’s even instances where the child doesn’t want to act, their parents are forcing them to

If on the extremely rare chance someone from the Percy Jackson crew is reading this please: let the kids play when they aren’t filming, don’t make them feel guilty for eating, shield them from the inevitable criticism that always comes with an adaption, take care of them, very few people do these things and kids get messed up from that

It’ll be easier to relate to the characters

Acting just doesn’t doesn’t have the same feel as animation, especially when the actors are new to acting

Acting is obvious, we ignore that it is because that’s how you watch live action, but rarely will it ever not feel like people repeating back lines they memorized, that the expressions are calculated and filmed 20 times over to get it right

Animation doesn’t have that, characters feel real, not like they’re acting because they aren’t, making it a lot easier to relate to them

None of the fight scenes will have to be cut

These are children playing these characters, obviously fights scenes are going to be cut and the ones kept are going to be simplified, these kids will probably have limited fighting experience and even if they don’t, they can’t hire children to play stunt doubles for safety reasons, so they won’t do anything too risky

Just imagine the fight scene between Ares and Percy in The Lightning Thief, they’ll probably hire a bigger guy to play Ares, comparing that to tiny Percy, the battle is probably going to look more like a dance number with every movement scripted as to keep Percy’s actor safe

It supports social distancing

Social distancing is still important and animation is easier to do social distanced

We could see every part of camp, not just the parts they built sets of

Camp is big and fantastical and probably will be barely shown, that’s a lot of set to build, so they probably won’t see it all

The big house, interior of the Poseidon, Athena, and Hermes cabins, and the mess hall will most likely be made, but the lava wall? the forge? doubtful

It’s easier to replace actors

Like I mentioned before, there are 18 books if they were willing to make them all, even if /magnus Chase and Kane Chronicles were made along side instead of in between, a lot of actors, especially child actors, don’t want to be stuck playing a character for that long

while no one shows up in ever book, some characters get dropped and brought back, which when being adapted causes actors to be replaced, the actor playing Will in The Last Olympian will probably not be the actor playing Will in Blood of Olympus (that is, if they even make Heroes of Olympus)

They won’t have to sacrifice the small details

Wouldn’t it be cool to have a Nico and Bianca cameo in the Lotus scene? won’t happen, what about characters slowly getting more scars after each battle to symbolize the trauma half-bloods carry with them? Luke will probably be the only character with a scar, see a background character that resembles minor characters like Drew or Kayla or Castor and Pollux? that’s not going to happen

Small details that make the story will be tossed to the side, mostly because it isn’t feasible in live action, I think the Lotus scene is the best example, seeing Nico and Bianca there in the background would be so cool, but they don’t age in the Lotus hotel, and it’ll take probably 14 to 18 months to make a season, let’s say 14 months for now, that’s over two years between their cameo and they’re actual appearance, a very obvious difference when discussing 10 and 12 year olds

All in all, this is just in my opinion and preference

Will I still watch if it’s live action, of course, it’s Percy Jackson

It won’t be as good as something animated and I’m sad I’ll never see some of my favorite characters on the big screen, but at least we’ll be getting a decent adaptation

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hollybollybingbong · 3 years

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Albus Dumbledore is the worst.

Albus Dumbledore was written to be a hero, and that's what makes him such a good villain. Almost everyone in the Wizarding World trusted him and thought he was so incredible and amazing, but in reality, he was playing a brilliant game of chess, using them all as his pawns.

How? Let's start from the beginning with Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore first met Tom when he was eleven, and even then, you could see the warning signs. Dumbledore did too. He saw that Tom was dangerous and unstable, and Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, wanted to give him a chance at Hogwarts.

But, Dumbledore, also, being Dumbledore, was the only one who saw who Tom really was, and only "kept an annoyingly close watch on him." He saw Tom Riddle, at the age of eleven saying "I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want," and did not think to do anything about it.

He said to Harry in Chamber of Secrets that, "help will be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," yet, here we have Tom Riddle, who desperately needed help, and did not get it. Could Dumbledore have prevented Tom Riddle from becoming who he was? I'm not sure. Could he have helped him more while he was at Hogwarts? 100%

Next up, Sirius (and a bit of Remus)

One thing I never understood while reading the books was why Sirius had to spend twelve years in Azkaban when there were literally potions that forced you to tell the truth.

The truth is, unsurprisingly, Dumbledore wanted him there. By keeping Sirius in Azkaban, there was no way he could adopt Harry (who was legally his), and ruin Dumbledore's perfectly thought out plan of manipulating Harry. Dumbledore was a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot, if he managed to get Snape off, he surely could've gotten Sirius free too.

But unlike Snape, and Remus, and Hagrid, and Harry, Dumbledore couldn't use Sirius. Remus was a werewolf with no job prospects in the Wizarding World, and no Muggle qualifications either. He spent twelve years alone, as he watched his friends die or get sent to Azkaban. But then here comes Dumbledore, who gives him a job and a home when no one else would. And suddenly, Remus is loyal to Dumbledore.

Hagrid, a half-giant, was kicked out of Hogwarts in his third year for something he didn't do. But Dumbledore comes along and suddenly Hagrid has a home and job, and owes it to Dumbledore, ensuring his loyalty.

Even Snape, Dumbledore saved him from a lifetime in Azkaban prison, securing his loyalty too.

But Sirius, Sirius was different. He saw right through Dumbledore and his manipulation. He was a rebel and chose his path. A path that didn't involve Dumbledore, which is why he was stuck in Azkaban for twelve years, despite him being innocent. Because him being around would've messed up Dumbledore's plan to raise Harry to die, because there is no way in hell that Sirius would've allowed that to happen.

Finally, Harry Potter, himself.

Harry escaped death at the age of one and then was essentially kidnapped by Hagrid on Dumbledore's orders. While there's no proof, surely James and Lily would've written a will, especially considering they were living through a war with their son being the target for the greatest dark wizard of all time. I believe that Dumbledore pulled some strings (because remember, he was a member of the Wizengamot, and despite not holding the title of Minister for Magic, he was as good as, especially considering how incompetent they were), so he could be in charge of Harry's living arrangements and manipulate him further. Sirius Black was his legal guardian, being godfather and all, and yet Hagrid had "orders from Dumbledore," so he got stuck with the Dursleys.

Harry grew up in this abusive home where he was unwanted, neglected, and bullied, so when he eventually finds out about the Wizarding World, he sees it as a home, a safe haven, away from the Dursleys. He feels grateful to the Wizarding World for saving him from them. And when he has to go back at the beginning of summer, it's a reminder that it can all be taken away, so when Harry has to sacrifice himself to save the world he's come to love so much, of course, he does! Because why wouldn't he? It's his home.

Dumbledore could've left Harry with Remus, or the Weasley's, or the Longbottom's, or literally any other family, but the Dursley's made Harry easiest to manipulate.

And before anyone mentions Lily's blood wards, Dumbledore says in Order of the Phoenix: "You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you."

There was no reason for Harry to grow up in an abusive household, isolated from the Wizarding World, but it made Harry an easier pawn to manipulate in Dumbledore's game.

Similarly, when Harry is in school, he rewards Harry's saviour complex through house points. In Philosopher's Stone, the trio very clearly go against McGonagall's orders and put themselves in dangerous situations to 'save the day.' But instead of facing any punishment, they are rewarded via the House Cup, and Dumbledore is buying Harry's loyalty.

It's always Harry being the one to put himself into dangerous situations, never Dumbledore. Chamber of Secrets, Harry and Ginny both nearly die, but oh, thanks to Dumbledore's phoenix the day is saved! But wait, wasn't Dumbledore there the first time the Chamber was opened? Was there nobody else in the entire Wizarding World who could fix this mess, without having to rely on a twelve-year-old???

Prisoner of Azkaban. Why were Harry and Hermione the ones to rescue Sirius? Why couldn't Dumbledore do it himself? Goblet of Fire. You're telling me the 'most powerful wizard in the world' couldn't break the magical contract? In all honesty, he probably could, but he said it himself, he wanted to see what would happen. He was using Harry as bait. McGonagall seems to be the only person who cares about this poor boy's life. And then we have Order of the Phoenix. Where Dumbledore isolates himself from Harry, gets Snape to teach him Occlumency instead of doing it himself, which leads to Sirius's death, which I believe was planned (to an extent).

And at the end of Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore comes 'clean,' saying that the reason he ghosted Harry for the entire year, was because 'he cared for him too much.' That he cared more about Harry's happiness than the safety of others, that he put Harry's life above the life of innocent people. He was telling Harry, who watched his godfather die in front of him, and blamed himself for it, that him being happy would lead to the deaths of others. Dumbledore's exact quote was, "What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy." And of course, Dumbledore said this, because he knows Harry has a tendency to sacrifice himself for others, and as a result, he'll choose to die when the time comes.

Dumbledore kept Harry's inevitable death from him for sixteen years, five while he was at Hogwarts. And guess what? By this point, Harry was wrapped so tightly around Dumbledore's little finger, and wouldn't say no even if he could.

Harry Potter was raised like a pig for slaughter, by a man he trusted. And this makes me so angry. Harry Potter was seventeen when he walked into the forest alone, more than willing to die. He was seventeen when he and his friends fought in a war against people twice their age. He was seventeen when he saw some of those friends for the last time, watched them die fighting a war that none of them had seen the start of.

He was fifteen when he watched his godfather die before him, and blamed himself for it. He was fourteen when he watched Cedric Diggory die at the hand of Voldemort. He was twelve when he had to fight a basilisk and Tom Riddle single-handedly while trying to save himself and eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley. He was eleven and having to find and protect the Philosopher's Stone, the first 'test' of many. He was a child battling an adult's war, with no choice in the matter.

Dumbledore manipulated them all, so he could get children to fight his battles for him.

#anti dumbledore #dumbledore bashing #dumbledore is a manipulator #i hate dumbledore #harry potter

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Mine

Author: @taylerwrites

Prompt 28: Modern AU: Bestfriends!Everlark took their shot at being lovers. But Katniss introduced Peeta as her “best friend” to a guy at a party (she was not used to calling him boyfriend yet). He was furious. [submitted by anonymous]

A/N: Hello! So, somehow, this story kind of took a mafia turn, and… I can’t say that I’m upset about it. I kind of tweaked the prompt a bit, in which they’re best friends that become more. But nothing happens until Katniss introduces Peeta as her bodyguard to a guy at a party. [Hint: she totally does it on purpose.] Also, the full version will be posted on AO3. Since I’ve been sick, I was kind of short on time.

Rating: E (Warnings: Dark/ Violent Themes; Age Gap; Possessive language/ behavior)

~~~~~

She’s used to this by now—strange guests in dark suits showing up at her grandfather’s house at all times of the day. Thugs, her nanny calls them one evening before bed. And they are, most of them, often wandering down the halls with a glint of ill intent in their eye.

“You stay in your room when they’re here. Do you understand?” her nanny asks, tucking away the last of Katniss’s toys in the white chest near her dresser.

“Yes, nan.”

Except, that night, she doesn’t listen. The sound of her stomach gurgling drags her out of bed and she sneaks down into the kitchen where Sae scolds her for wandering the halls so late at night.

She’s tiptoeing past her grandfather’s study, hands now full of mini blueberry muffins and a bottle of apple juice, when she hears unfamiliar voices, and… sobbing? Katniss stops, curious, and steps closer to peek through the small slit between the large mahogany doors.

There are two darkly dressed men standing in front of the fire, their rings catching in the warm glow as they gesture toward a hunched shadow behind them. The dim light in the study is barely enough to make out any significant details, but she easily sees the outline of a boy.

He sniffles softly, a muffled sound heard under the voices of the men in the room. Words are spoken quietly, and she strains to catch what they are saying.

“His parents… One of Coin’s men, I believe… What should we—”

She’s jostled from the door by a pair of firm hands, and she stares up into the fierce face of Purnia, her tight updo making the sharp angles of her face more threatening.

“You should be in bed,” is all the tall woman says before escorting her to her room.

~~~~~

Later, Katniss hears them bring the boy to the guest room across the hall. And she waits until she hears the click of their expensive shoes disappear down the hallway before she goes to her door and steps out—two muffins and the bottle of juice in her hands.

Quietly, she tiptoes across the hall to the door that is slightly ajar. She pushes it open, unsurprised to find the boy crying in the corner of the room. When she walks closer, she discovers that he’s an older boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen—a gangly thing with blond, curly hair sticking up around his head and oversized clothes.

He looks up when she steps on a creaky floorboard; his eyes are wide with fright until he realizes that she’s no real threat. Scrawny eight-year-olds aren’t as intimidating as old floorboards, it seems.

Katniss takes him in, now that she can get the full picture of him. And when she looks beyond the baggy clothes, he kind of reminds her of a scrappy character from one of her storybooks.

Except, he doesn’t seem so bad.

Wordlessly, she holds out one of the muffins, and he just stares at it. She jiggles her hand, encouraging him to take the muffin. And when he finally does, she offers him a toothy smile.

“Thank you, little one,” he tells her, which is confusing considering he looks like the little one at the moment. But she doesn’t question it as she sits beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest.

They eat their muffins quietly, and when he asks what her name is, her answer whistles through her missing front tooth. “Katniss.”

He nods and doesn’t say much else.

~~~~~

She watches the boy as he steps into the dining room, his eyes momentarily catching hers where she stands behind her grandfather in her plaid dress and too itchy turtleneck sweater.

He’s dressed in a black suit, the lights from the chandeliers above reflecting off his shiny, dark shoes, looking every bit like the influential guest her grandfather expects him to be. It’s a drastic difference from the state he arrived at the house in only two days ago.

However, his blonde curls still hang limply on his forehead, and the color of his skin continues to have a grey sheen. But his blue eyes reflect a bit of life in them, even if it’s fleeting, and she thinks that might mean something as he stands before her grandfather as still as a statue.

Her grandfather puffs out a cloud of smoke from his cigar, watching the boy with sharp eyes.

“Have you ever held a gun, boy?” The boy shakes his head. “People around here call me sir when they answer me.”

She can see his bottom lip slightly tremble, but he schools it with a blank expression.

“No, sir.”

Adult talk isn’t something her grandfather allows her to listen in on; numbers and business were of no interest to children. But as he talks to the boy, she gets to witness firsthand how regular people are turned into bloodhounds. It turns her gut a little, even though she doesn’t quite understand.

Yet, all she can do is press her lips into a thin line as the boy slips the silver signet ring on his left pinky finger.

~~~~~

He earns his first tattoo when he’s eighteen. It’s on the inside of his left wrist in dark ink, a snake wrapped around a rose, confirming he is owned by the House of Snow.

He’s no longer ‘boy’. He’s Peeta—a man now, another thug in a dark suit. Although… he isn’t.

Not to her.

Sometimes, she’d catch him reading in the library when he wasn’t doing a job for her grandfather, and she often marveled how he looked more like the boy she knew and not the man he’s become. His brows would crease in an expression of concentration, and not one of anger which appeared on his face often after running ‘errands’. And then the look would disappear when he caught her spying on him—not that she was ever being very discreet about it.

“Focus on your homework, little one,” he’d say, a small smile on his mouth. Katniss would blush and turn back to her reading for a bit before sneaking glances at him again.

Peeta is still somewhat of a mystery to Katniss, but he’s kind to her—unlike other guests that show up unannounced in her home who see her as the annoying nuisance in her grandfather’s shadow. He remembers her birthday, perching small gifts on the window sill in the alcove she normally hides in. And he never ignores her when he comes across her in the halls or is forced to sit beside her during dinner. Instead, he listens as she prattles on about her studies or what happened in the house while he was away on business trips.

When it dawns on her one day that perhaps they are friends, he merely smiles as she tells him this and doesn’t disagree with her. It’s at that moment that Katniss felt their friendship is valuable and something she needs to protect—even if Peeta sees her as a little one. Because friends look out for one another, even when they’re out past their bedtime with hands full of food.

“What are you doing out of bed, little one?” he asks when he finds her sneaking out of the kitchen.

“What does it look like?”

Peeta steals one of the blueberry muffins from her pile, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “It looks like you’re being a packrat. What happened to the food you brought to your room last night?”

“I ate it all.”

He watches her with an amused gleam in his eye and takes a bite of the muffin he stole. Then he opens her bedroom door and tells her to stay put. “Don’t wander the halls at night, little one. It’s not safe.”

And yet, he’s there the next night, stealing one of her treats and escorting her back to her room.

~~~~~~

The first time Peeta kills someone, she knows, because he cries—she’s no longer that naive to assume that ‘errands’ actually means something else. She hasn’t seen him cry in five years, yet when she finds him curled up in the corner of the guest room, he reminds her of the boy she met so long ago.

She takes in his marred knuckles, dried blood crusted on his skin, sealing wounds that hadn’t been there that morning. His hair is limp, and the suit he wears is in ruins with holes and a long gash in his side.

When his eyes find hers, they’re red with a bit of fear in them—no longer caused by squeaky floorboards and a scrawny eight-year-old.

Something conflicting tightens in her chest; one small voice tells her to go to her room like she’s been told many times before, and another tells her to stay. And because she’s never been one to properly listen to warnings, Katniss sits beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

She offers him one of the blueberry muffins in her hand, and it takes zero prompting this time for him to take it and slowly pick at the treat with shaky fingers. When it’s gone, she notices that the slight body tremors have stopped and his breathing is now even.

“Thank you, little one,” he says after a moment, and Katniss gives him a small smile.

He’s worth protecting.

~~~~~

Katniss can’t stop staring at him, and it’s… enlightening.

She doesn’t know when the perceptions of a kid are washed away by that of a sixteen-year-old, but she definitely notices how nervous or flushed she becomes when Peeta’s eyes land on her. It’s not that she’s never been shy around him before, but that was from a child feeling praise from someone she admired.

Now it’s from the fact that she’s never noticed the random gold flecks in otherwise blue irises, or that he is a head taller than most men she knew—his frame filling out the all-black suits almost too well.

And have pens and silverware always looked that small and fragile in his hands?

When he’d place a hand on her lower back to guide her out of a room, or gently move her out of the way, she’d jump from how it felt like it was burning her through her clothes. But Peeta never seemed to think twice of it, and would simply drop his hand after it served its purpose.

She isn’t blind to the fact that others have long since realized these discoveries about Peeta—apparently, she’s the last to know. Katniss also hates that this will never change how Peeta sees her because she’ll only ever be his little one, and he’s a man who still has needs.

One evening, she stumbles upon Peeta with one of his ‘gifts’ from her grandfather, a tall brunette she’d seen before who has a penchant for short red skirts. It takes her all of twenty seconds to realize what is happening in the dark corridor before she turns on her heel and goes to sulk in her room.

In her bed, she selfishly imagines what Peeta is like as a lover. She wonders if his lower lip would become a little fuller if she worked it between her teeth, or if the gold flecks in his eyes would disappear completely from lust. Would he grip her hips in his massive hands and call her a brat for being too rough? Still, how can she not be when someone else is currently touching what is hers?

And it’s from these fantasies that her hand travels underneath her silky sleep shorts, and she touches herself to thoughts of large hands and broad shoulders. When her orgasm washes over her in waves, her toes curling, she swears she can faintly hear the sound of expensive shoes stopping outside her bedroom door. Then, after a few seconds, the guest bedroom door closes and she releases the sigh she was holding.

The next day, he finds her in the library because it’s her birthday and he’s never missed a birthday in all nine years that they’ve known each other. He slides a rectangle box across the table she’s sitting at, but Katniss doesn’t look up, still embarrassed about what she’d witnessed the day before.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, and this makes her look up because he only ever calls her that pet name when she behaves.

The look she finds is soft and maybe a little ashamed.

Ah, she stayed in her room… for once.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, glancing back down at her book that she hasn’t actually been reading.

“It’s your birthday,” he tries again.

“Yeah, I know,” she sniffs. “Thanks for reminding me.”

She startles when a hand suddenly covers the page she’s staring at, and she glances up to Peeta’s blank expression. “Don’t be a brat.” Something about that word makes her flush, and she knows it has everything to do with the way she thought about him saying it last night. “Open your present before I leave to run errands.”

Katniss huffs a little, and Peeta replaces his hand on her book with his gift. She eyes the delicate bow on top, faintly wondering how his large fingers formed such an intricate knot. Then she tugs on an end, watching it fall apart before she brushes it off and flips open the lid.

Inside lays a black pearl attached to a delicate gold chain, all perfectly nestled between a smooth dark velvet. It’s definitely different from the other trinkets she’s received from Peeta on her birthday, and she stares at it a moment longer to figure out what it means.

But Peeta must read her thoughts. Or her confusion must be so blatant on her face because he plucks the necklace from the box, and Katniss watches him owlishly as he walks around the table until he’s standing behind her.

She wordlessly pulls her hair off her neck, holding her breath when his steady fingers brush against her skin as he works the clasp on the chain. After what feels like eons (but was probably only thirty seconds), his hands fall and the pearl pendant dangles from around her neck.

Then he leans forward and whispers, “It means I’m yours, little one.”

~~~~~

It’s during one of her grandfather’s infamous soirées that she decides she’s tired of waiting for Peeta to make the first move. Surely it had been her age holding him back, but she’s nineteen now, and… nothing.

He continues to tease her with gentle (although chaste) touches to the small of her back, and sometimes grazes her bottom lip with his thumb when he pushes a loose lock of hair out of her face. And when she nipped at the tip of his thumb once, he merely shook his head even though his breathing had picked up slightly.

“We can’t,” he’d insisted, shaking his head. But he had kept his thumb in her mouth, a firm pressure against her tongue while he tried to regulate his breathing again.

She’s never been so frustrated in her life, but she has a plan.

She walks into the large sitting room wearing a black floor length dress that shows off a little more skin than what she’s used to. However, her heart soars to the ceiling when she notices the tall brooding figure standing near one of the long windows watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Good.

Katniss moves around the room with her mission in mind, making sure that she is always in Peeta’s line of sight. It becomes easier when a stocky gentleman with dark shoulder-length hair takes it upon himself to talk to her, and Katniss lays it on thick.

She touches his chest when he makes her laugh, slides closer to him when he whispers something in her ear. And when there’s a break in the conversation, she glances over to make sure Peeta is still watching—he is.

He still keeps his distance, except now there’s a firm set to his jaw.

Hm.

The gentleman—Marvel is his name—tells her about his travels in Greece and Katniss leans up to whisper replies in his ear, closing Peeta’s view off from her completely. It doesn’t matter what she says, what matters is that when she moves away from Marvel, Peeta is standing right there. And Katniss can’t help but smirk a little.

“Katniss,” he says, voice like a knife’s edge. It’s clearly meant as a warning, but Katniss’s grin grows wider.

“Who’s this?’ Marvel asks.

Never taking her eyes off Peeta’s face, she answers, “Oh, this is my bodyguard. Don’t mind him. He often plays nice.”

Then Peeta storms off, and Katniss can’t contain her triumph as she excuses herself and trails after him.

#taylerwrites #prompt 28 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

Something Immortal

word count - 3k

warnings: suicide attempt, drug use, addiction, cursing, teenagers being gross

pairing: model!Todoroki x canon!Bakugo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy shit guys he posted!!" Mina squeals, vaulting herself over the couch to reach the rest of the Bakusquad sitting on the common room carpet. An old original copy of Monopoly splayed out in the center of their group.

"Ooh, show us! Show us!" Kaminari leans forward, swiping half of the properties off the board in the process.

Sero groans, "Dude you do this every time!!"

The blond pouts, "Hey it's your fault I was losing."

Kirishima just chuckles, picking up his dog piece from jail and throwing it into the box.

"Your smart people game can wait," Mina tugs on Sero's ponytail, "He hasn't posted in weeks."

"Oh my god he's so fucking hot," Kaminari's knee-jerk reaction is whispered as soon as he sees the post.

Todoroki Shouto, one of Japan- and America's- most well-known models. The teenager, who happens to be their age, regularly models for magazines like Vogue, Joker, and Elle. The teenager who has starred in countless American and Japanese short and independent films. The teenager who just so happens to be the son of the number one hero, Endeavor.

No one knows his quirk, but it just adds to the mystery. Some people theorize he's quirkless, but others think he's got a crazy dangerous quirk, which is why he's a model instead of an aspiring hero. Not like he's not perfect for the job, with his gorgeous bi-colored hair and heterochromatic eyes. The scar on his left side somehow only adds to his beauty. It doesn't matter what your sexuality is, you simp for Todoroki Shouto.

But that's the obvious, now this photo- this photo.

"It's ethereal, I've never seen him look so serene before."

"He's an actual angel."

"How is he only eighteen?!"

Mina nods as Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima go through the seven stages of grief just looking at the photo.

Kirishima's eyes dart to Todoroki's username... which is just Shouto. In fact, the Todoroki name isn't mentioned once on his account, a fact that has hundreds of conspiracy theories on its own.

"Hey Meens, can we stalk him real quick? I wanna see who he's following."

She grins, "Well anything for you, munchkin."

Sero snorts. Their couple nicknames never fail to amuse anyone within hearing range.

"Ugh gross," Kaminari gags as Mina giggles, swiping off of the picture (which already has over 600,000) and onto his main page.

It's simple, plain yet elegant in the way only a PR manager could manage.

The bio is a link to his most recent shoot with some magazine that Kirishima doesn't recognize, the profile picture is a rare shot of him smiling, a blue checkmark, and a follower count of over four million.

His following count, however, is the shocker.

"He only follows fourteen people?" Sero whispers, clicking on the number.

"Huh," Mina turns the phone slightly so she can see, "Who is he following?"

"Let's see," Sero squints, eyes scrolling down the list, "Hawks... his siblings... Mirko... some American models... his agency's profile... and- wait, isn't that Bakugo?"

"HAH?" Mina yells, whipping the phone around and clicking on the profile.

Sure enough, a slew of photos shows up on her screen, all of their resident blond pomeranian glaring at the camera in various locations.

"He- WHAT?? It must be a glitch!" Mina scrambles frantically, eyes darting across the screen.

"Uh, yeah," Kirishima chuckles, "a glitch."

Mina scrolls up numerous times as if refreshing the page will help.

"I mean what other explanation can you think of?! It's not like Thee Todoroki Shouto would know our Bakugou, they're totally in different leagues." Mina sounds absolutely scandalized, causing Sero to laugh.

"I don't know, Meens, the proof is right there. We should ask him about it!"

"And what- DIE?" Kaminari reasons.

Sero nods, "Fair point."

"Pussies." Mina stands, planting her manicured hands on the edge of the couch, "I'll ask him myself."

"I REFUSE." A fourteen-year-old Shouto screams at his father.

"what do you mean you refuse? Shouto she's a lovely girl, and you need to procreate while you're still young if you're not going to become a hero like I want. You get one or the other." Todoroki Enji grabs his youngest child by the arm to lead him out of the kitchen, but Shouto jerks out of his grip. "Wh- SHOUTO."

"I'm going to live with Fuyumi. She'll take care of me." He holds his ground, shaking his father off when he tries once again to physically lead him out of the room.

"OH?" Enji bellows a laugh, "And how do you expect she'll find the money to take you in? Raising a teenager is expensive, you know, and she's only a simple school teacher."

"She's not a simple anything. And I- I'll find a way. We'll be fine. I already talked to several agencies."

"...agencies?"

"Wait, Mina!!" Kaminari calls after the girl, but she's a woman on a mission and there's no stopping her.

They arrive at Bakugo's door in a heap, Kaminari clawing at Mina while she knocks calmly. Kirishima and Sero stand to watch because they have no idea what else to do. (They're just as nervous as Kaminari but they're more afraid of Mina if they're being honest.)

A crash comes from inside the room, but soon their resident angry boy is slamming open his door and glaring at them. The normalcy is comforting.

"Do you fuckers realize what fucking time it is?"

"Yes~" Mina coos sweetly, "I know old men need their sleep but it's only 8:30 and we have a question."

He sighs aggressively and stretches his arms behind his back, cracking his shoulders and then his neck, Kaminari whimpers in fear.

"Alright, what do you want pinky?"

She's practically vibrating with excitement at this point.

"Why is Todoroki Shouto following you on Instagram?"

Bakugo seems to mull over this for a moment, and then he just shrugs.

Mina nods like this answers any part of her question, "That's what I thought, funny glitch. He's pretty hot though, right?"

The rest of the group nods emphatically.

Bakugo scratches his leg with his other heel, "He's not ugly, I guess."

Mina waves her arms around in Bakugo's general direction, "See!!? Even the straight guy agrees!!"

"No one was disagreeing with you, Mina." Sero snickers.

Bakugo grunts, then promptly slams the door in their faces.

"Well I guess that was more than he'd usually do at this time, we're lucky we didn't get exploded." Kirishima muses.

Kaminari nods, shuddering at the thought.

"Welp! That answers our question!" Although it really didn't, no one was about to argue with Mina, "Anyway I'm going to bed."

"Say hi to your vibe for me!" Sero whispers after her.

She waves as she marches away, humming to herself.

Shouto stares at the street below.

He wonders if he'd die falling from a height like this. He hopes he doesn't hit anyone.

Slowly, he removes his expensive sneakers, dropping them on the modelling agency's roof beside him. It's breezy tonight, and Shouto, freshly sixteen, has nothing to live for anymore. So he won't.

Stepping carefully over the guardrail, not sure why since he's about to jump. Maybe part of him is still afraid.

Whatever he can get over it.

His thin frame wobbles in the wind, and he breathes deeply, too focused on relaxing to notice the roof door opening, and hurried steps coming up behind him.

A warm hand grabs him, almost startling him off the side of the building.

The interruption heaves heavy breaths in his ear as they both topple down onto the concrete floor.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Oh, it's Bakugo.

The only child of his manager, Mitsuki Bakugo, who happens to be a nosy little shit who can't stay out of other people's business.

"Get OFF" Shouto shoves him, frantically scrambling toward the railing again. He needs this.

"NO! Todoroki get the fuck back-"

"It's SHOUTO." blood spurts onto his gray sweater and he realizes with muted horror that he just elbowed his employer's son in the nose.

"Fuck I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He bends down, removing his trashed pullover, and holds it to his friend's nose.

Bakugo snorts, "Sorry- Shouto I mean." He winces when Shouto presses harder into his face, "I'll forgive you if you don't jump."

Shouto sighs, "You know why I was going to."

Bakugo visibly calms at the use of past tense, the outburst must have snapped him out of it.

"Your mom, right?" Shouto tenses.

"Yeah I- he barred me from ever seeing her again and I- I don't know what to do." He shudders and pulls his pills from his pants pocket.

He wonders what his mom would say if she found out her baby was addicted to drugs.

Bakugou frowns but lets his friend take the pill, not sure what to say.

"Fucking piece of shit. Is that even legal?"

"Legally the number two hero can do whatever the fuck he wants. We live in a flawed world, Bakugo.

"I- Shouto."

"Hmm?" Shouto collapses onto the ground, crunching the pill and sighing as he feels the effects start to take almost immediately.

"I care- I care about you, okay? So please let me help you. Let me get you help."

A tear slips down to Shouto's ear without his permission, he wipes it away as quickly as it came.

"I don't know, Bakugo. You haven't exactly seemed to like me in the past. Even though I like to think we're friends I know you don't feel the same." He frowns, admiring the shine of wetness on his palm in the moonlight.

Bakugo grumbles, "Don't fuckin' tell me what I do and don't feel. I really fuckin' care about you even though I'm an ass about it, okay? I'm not good with emotions so don't expect much from me. But I do want you to be happy and I don't think the uh- the pills are helping."

The blond holds out a hand and reluctantly Shouto slaps the container into it.

"Fine," he mumbles, "you're uh- not as bad as I thought."

Bakugo snorts, "You're just as bad as I thought, but I like you anyway."

Against his will, Shouto finds himself blushing, thankful that it's mostly hidden in the dark.

"C'mon," Bakugo gestures to his own chest, "I know you could use one."

Shouto whimpers as he curls himself into the blond's strong frame. He's built a lot of muscle since starting at UA this year.

A strong hand rubs along his back and Shouto finds he can't hold back his tears any longer as the shock starts to set in.

Fuck he almost just killed himself.

"Thanks, Bakugo."

"I almost just watched you die, you can call me Katsuki."

"Thanks, Katsuki."

"No problem, Shouto."

The Bakusquad once again finds themselves playing a game on the common room floor, this time Sorry, much to Sero's chagrin.

"Sorry!" Kirishima grins cheekily as he kicks Sero's piece back to his home base.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck you guys-" He groans, flopping back onto the loveseat behind him, only to get an eyeful of Bakugo Katsuki's ass, "Oh hey Bakugou!"

"Wh- OI TAPE FACE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE LOOKING-"

Sero snickers, patting Bakugou on the hip, "Sorry dude, it was literally right there."

Small explosions popped from Bakugo's hands as he growled down at Sero.

"Aw come on blasty he's just playing and WHERE are you going dressed like that???!!!"

Bakugo blushes and tugs his light blue blazer down farther.

"I have a date." He mutters, tugging his sleeves.

“Sorry,” Kaminari laughs, “I think I misheard you. Sounded like you said ‘I have a date.’”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “Because I do, dipshit.” He sighs, checking his -expensive-looking- watch, “Just watch the independent film awards when they’re on. I think it’s like four hours from now that it starts.”

“Whyyyy would you have anything to do with that?” Kirishima groans, very lost.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo grunts, digging his phone out of his pocket when it vibrates and checking something before humming and striding towards the front door.

He looks unusually elegant, hair slicked back probably as well as Bakugo’s hair can be, shirt tucked in, a few rings on his fingers, barely visible and yet beautifully drawn eyeliner. He’s… pretty.

The three remaining members of the Bakusquad, as well as the rest of the common room, sit there in awe as he shoves a permission slip in Iida’s blubbering face.

“I- Wh- Bakugo is this from Aizawa? You cannot just leave!!”

“Fuck off glasses, I have his fuckin’ blessing or whatever.”

“Bakugo!”

The blond shoots a middle finger off behind him and slams the door shut, leaving a stunned common room in his wake.

“Uh, well, that happened.” Jirou drones blandly from her place on the couch with Momo.

“Awards show watch party, anyone?!” Uraraka grins, standing, “I’ll get the mochi!!”

“I’ll make tea,” Momo stands as well, dusting off her perfectly clean jeans. Jirou groans at the loss of her girlfriend’s warmth and flops over on the couch.

“This is stupid, he probably got invited by some pro hero and he’s just going to yell at the paparazzi if he’s even gonna be there.” She pouts.

“Well,” Sero grins, “anyone wanna play Monopoly while we wait?”

Kaminari throws the Sorry board at his head.

“Alright, is everyone ready!!? The red carpet is about to start!!” Hagakure squeals, even though the entirety of class 3-A (minus Bakugo) is there.

“So… what exactly are we watching this for?” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck.

“Bakugo’s going to be in it apparently, the study group earlier saw him in the common room wearing a suit.” Ojiro answers.

“Not just a suit!!” Mina holds her hands out as if to deliver groundbreaking news, “A fancy suit.”

“Aren’t all suits fancy?”

“Shut up.”

“OOH LOOK there’s Arai Itō and Chiba Yoshida!! Aww, they’re so cute!” Uraraka swoons, clasping her hands together.

“I wonder when Kacchan is gonna come out, these things can take a while.”

“I honestly don’t even care, I heard Todoroki Shouto is nominated for an award this year!! Do you remember that really sad short film he was in about having an overdose? Gosh, I hope he wins.” Hagakure’s hair bow vibrates excitedly.

“THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!!!” She points at the bottom of the screen where a man in a pale blue dress has stepped out of a limo and onto the carpet, a heeled foot gracefully raising him to his full 6’2”.

“Holy shit he’s gorgeous.” Sero breathes, the reporters on screen basically saying the same thing.

Shouto reaches behind him and holds out a hand for the second person stepping out of the limo, broad shoulders, a shorter stature than Shouto especially with the heels, spiky blond hair, piercing red eyes-

…

“HOLY SHIT IS THAT BAKUGOU??”

The aerial camera pans down toward the blond, showing off his suit- which matches Shouto’s dress perfectly- and his, what appears to be professionally done hair.

“Holy shit does he have an undercut now!!?? We just saw him a few hours ago!” Mina screeches.

Momo shrugs, “They do that sort of thing for celebrities.” She sips her tea, unphased.

“Okay okay, we’re all ignoring the most important part. Kacchan is Todoroki’s date.” Izuku frantically waves his arms around.

“I didn’t know they knew each other,” Tokoyami muses.

“What the fuck is happening?” Sero asks no one in particular.

“Wait everyone SHUT UP they’re announcing awards!!!! Todoroki might win one! We can ask Bakugo about this when he gets back. Surely there’s an interesting story.” Uraraka chimes in, handing out mochi and popcorn.

The tv’s voice is muffled under the muttering of several class 3-A members, but Mina turns it up as the male announcer reads the winners of the award Todoroki is nominated for.

“AAAAAAAAND THE WINNER FOR BEST ACTOR IN A DRAMA SHORT ISSSSSSSSS…

TODOROKI SHOUTO!!! For his work in The End of Me and the incredible performance that shocked-”

Cheers ring through the dorms, popcorn goes flying, and Mina frantically shushes everyone as Shouto makes his way gracefully onto the stage. He accepts the award from the previous winner, bowing elegantly and stepping up to the mic.

“Hello everyone,” He begins, shooting a shy smile directly into the camera. It has always perplexed his fans how nervous he can be in real life compared to in his photoshoots. “This is a really important award to me, not only am I incredibly grateful to the panel for gracing this title upon me, but as of yesterday,” He smiles at the ground, taking a deep breath, “I’m two years clean.”

Shocked gasps ricochet through the award hall as well as through the crowd gathered around the tv.

“He did drugs, kero?” Tsu whispers.

“Mon dieux,” Aoyama shakes his head, pressing a hand to his chest, “how brave.”

Shouto clears his breath and continues, “In fact, that wasn’t the worst of it at the time, and I’m incredibly grateful to all who have supported me through my career. You keep me sane, and you keep me going. But especially, I’d like to thank my sister, brother, and my wonderful boyfriend-”

He holds an arm out to someone in the audience, and the camera pans to none other than Bakugou Katsuki, “who quite literally saved my life, and helped me drive myself back on track. I love you Katsuki, and you continue to improve my life every second that you’re in it.”

Most of 3-A are in tears at this point, and as Bakugo half-heartedly scowls into the camera, they can tell his eyes are shining too.

Shouto glances back at the camera as if directing his words to someone in particular.

“Thank you.”

And then he’s walking back down to his seat as the audience provides him with a standing ovation.

“THEY’RE DATING,” Mina sobs, shaking Kirishima’s shoulders as he sits, staring slack-jawed at the television.

“Yeah, yeah they are.”

Katsuki does NOT wipe tears from his eyes as he helps Shouto sit back down in his seat, but his boyfriend definitely does. His mascara, thankfully waterproof, still holds strong.

Shouto shoots him a watery smile, rubbing his arm as he pulls the blond into a hug.

“Happy two years, Katsuki.”

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

Note

Omg, rfa + minor trio are here again. I almost droped my phone lmao... Can we have rfa + minor trio reactions when police brings their teenage child home? Thank you and take care!

RFA + Minor Duo’s teenage child being brought home by the police

As soon as I read this request I thought ,,yeah, this is just what I want write about!’’ thank you for your request! I hope I can make you happy! Please enjoy! And yes, ahaha, I am always good for a surprise! Let’s welcome the Minor Duo/ Trio again!

Vanderwood’s child being brought home by the police

Jumin

,,You really should send someone,’’ you mumbled, almost begging your husband.

The problem was that your oldest son, who was sixteen, didn’t want to become the new CEO in line. Instead, he wanted to go into show business, something Jumin didn’t want to let happen.

The amounts of arguments in the house were so many, that you lost count.

But as a mother, you were your son’s side.

,,No, I don’t care,’’ Jumin mumbled.

,,Does he really think that music will provide him with food, warm clothes, and a future forever?’’ he asked you.

,,Well, you could also lose the company, you know…’’ you mumbled, getting a cold look.

Suddenly the door rang, making your second daughter open the door.

,,Uhm, Mom,’’ the fourteen year old called you.

It was 10 pm. when two police officers stood there, your boy between them.

,,We caught him stealing,’’ one of them said.

And after Jumin thanked them and gave them so much money, that they would never ever speak up again, he was ready to scold your son if you didn’t protect him.

,,I DID THIS BECAUSE I WANT TO CHANGE MY FATE! I’M NOT YOUR DOLL!’’ he hissed.

Jumin was speechless, and before he could act, your daughter helped you.

,,I will be the CEO in line. Have some faith in me,’’ she said.

,,Hyung is happier when he’s doing music, not working on your projects. I, on the other hand, love it a lot,’’ she said, solving almost every problem...

Zen

You and your husband were enjoying the day with your newborn when someone rang at the door.

Looking at the clock, you knew that it couldn’t have been your oldest daughter who was supposed to still be at school, however, you were wrong.

,,Mom…’’ the young lady began to sob, jumping into your arms.

,,What happened?’’ Zen asked, when he looked over to his little girl.

,,She was robbed in the middle of the street.

Thank god people were there to help, but she got a little hurt. However, she didn’t want to go to the hospital and instead demanded to be brought home,’’ the other police officer said.

,,I was so scared,’’ she sobbed as she cried into your chest, your hands slowly patting her back in a rhythm to calm her down.

Zen thanked the police officer and then closed the door, hugging his girl as she kept crying.

That night, the three of you slept together in a bed even though she was already so old…

Zen even put his pride aside and asked Jumin Han to give her a few of his bodyguards.

After all, the safety of his family was his first priority.

Yoosung

,,I don’t know what to do anymore,’’ Yoosung sobbed.

It has been three years ever since you died, taking two of your children with you.

It was supposed to be a happy day when suddenly he simply got a call, the call about your death.

It took him a long time to overcome this pain, especially because he still had a son he had to raise.

Everyone tried to support Yoosung, but the young boy he had to raise without a mother began to feel the cold.

He began to miss you, the motherly figure he longed for.

Yoosung’s son was just sixteen when he first got accused of a few bad things. People visited him almost weekly to make sure that the family problems would be solved soon.

However, nothing helped.

,,I don’t need you, old idiotic father!’’ Yoosung’s son yelled.

,,WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?! I WANT AN APOLOGY!’’ he hissed.

,,You?! An apology?!’’ he laughed.

,,You fucking let them kill my mother and my sisters. You didn’t do anything good in life, you studied to save some stray dogs, and let my mother die like one,’’ he laughed.

Yoosung slapped his son and panted in rage.

,,Your mother would be disappointed in you,’’ he whispered.

,,You have no right to say that!’’ and with that, Yoosung’s son disappeared into the night, leaving Yoosung alone for a while until he gathered his strength and called Seven, who immediately searched for the young boy.

However, this wasn’t needed after half an hour when the door rang.

,,Mr Kim, we will need to put your son in jail. We need to talk,’’ the police officer said.

Yoosung, however, knew that whatever happened, he wouldn’t let them take the last memento of you...

Jaehee

You always thought that you and Jaehee managed to have your own little, happy family, without anyone hurting you guys.

However, you were wrong.

And neither you or Jaehee knew how wrong you were until the door rang and your son entered with two police officers.

The shop was closed and you and your wife were actually planning a special for your coffee shop when your life was turned upside down.

,,Kang Jaehee and Kang Mc?’’ they asked before they received the response that they were right.

,,We brought your son home,’’ the police officer said, letting the young boy go in.

,,HUH?”’ you gasped, checking if the boy you were raising into a good man was hurt.

,,He was the criminal. I think the family of the boy he hit will drag you into court. You should be prepared,’’ he said and went away, leaving you and Jaehee alone.

It didn’t take long before your son broke down. He was pretty fragile even though he just caused a problem.

,,I’m so sorry,’’ he sobbed and went on his knees, covering his face in his hand.

,,They made fun of me because I have two moms. At first… at first I didn’t care. Even when they called our shop disgusting, I didn’t care.

But when they called you disgusting… I just...I-’’

Immediately you hugged him, kissing his cheek.

,,You were hurt… you felt attacked. It’s not nice to use violence, but you’re a victim too… we will handle it…’’

Saeyoung

,,I can’t believe you stole something,’’ you sobbed as you watched your daughter.

She was currently in her rebellious phase.

,,Me neither. I mean, how many times did I teach you where the CCTV is? At least you could have-’’

You didn’t even let your husband finish as you hit him on his shoulder.

,,DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?! YOUR DAUGHTER DID SOMETHING ILLEGAL!’’ you hissed.

,,And you, young lady! I am so disappointed in you! Go up to your room, give me your phone, laptop, and iPad and write a letter of apology to the shop owner!

And then, later, I want to know how in the world you came to this stupid idea!’’ you hissed and turned around.

Your daughter was just brought home after the police caught her stealing, or trying to steal, a CD.

,,And you,’’ you hissed ,,don’t support her on these things!’’ you warned him.

After a bit you went up to your daughter and sat next to her.

The first few minutes, both of you didn’t say anything until she began to cry and went into your embrace.

,,Will you tell mommy now why you did that…?’’ you asked her.

Saeran

You were still in bed sleeping when the door rang.

Since you were in your last week of pregnancy with the third child, Saeran let you stay in bed and instead opened the door.

,,What-’’ he couldn’t believe what his eyes saw.

,,Sorry, dad…’’ his young daughter mumbled, her black jacket brown by now.

,,What happened?’’ he asked the police officer.

His daughter actually told him yesterday that she would sleep at her best friend’s house, but now police officers were dragging her home?

,,Mr Choi, we found her drunk on the street. We actually first brought her to the hospital and didn’t call you to not cause a false alarm, and also because she said that her mother was pregnant and didn’t want to shock her too much.

Luckily nothing happened and a young woman called for help when she was found.

We beg you to keep an eye on her and call this number if you ever need help,’’ the kind officer said.

Saeran bowed to thank the officer and then let his daughter in.

,,I am so...angry and disappointed that you lied to us. Go and take a shower, I will wake up your mom so that we can talk about this,’’ he said and went straight to your shared bedroom, where you first began to cry while he tried to calm down.

Memories came up, he didn’t want his daughter to end up like her, like his mother.

But then you had a good talk with her and decided to call help to support your daughter as best as possible...

Jihyun

,,Did you really break into the park for pictures?’’ you asked your son who nodded..

He explained that the stars and the shining lights were just too beautiful for him to ignore so he just had to go and see them.

,,And… oh dear, you know that it will be registered forever?!’’ you asked him.

Lucy was next to you.

She watched her brother as she tried to calm you.

,,Yes, but I couldn’t stop myself, mom. I’m sorry,’’ he mumbled.

,,We could have gone together while they were open,’’ Lucy commented.

,,I didn’t want any people in my pictures,’’ he commented and looked at his dad, who stayed silent the whole time.

,,Jihyun, it’s your fault for making him crazy about art! You need to tell him what’s right and what’s wrong!’’ you hissed and shook your head.

Together with Lucy you left the room, thinking on what to do next.

,,I know, how it feels,’’ Jihyun said when you were gone, making the young boy look up.

,,It’s wrong, but at the same time, it feels so right that nothing can stop you from doing it. I know it, especially with art.

I believe that this was an experience you had to learn. For the future, keep doing things like that, but instead of going in even though it’s closed, call me or Jumin. We will find a way. Always,’’ he laughed and patted his back.

,,Now, show me the pics!’’

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

14.03.2021// 19:48 MEST

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 3 years

Text

fine then @skilatilu trans TommyInnit hc under the cut

- I love the LabInnit headcanon and hc Tommy as a clone of Philza, with just enough hybrid and human DNA to be able to gestate and grow like a normal child. Unfortunately for him, this left him human enough to have an actual biological sex (unlike pure angels like Philza, who are monosex.), though before puberty it was only able to be determined through like genetic tests (which Tommy had gone through a ton of due to being a lab rat).

- When Tommy was about three, Techno burnt down the lab he was imprisoned in (it was a government lab dedicated to unethical weapon experimentation). When Techno and Phil were looking through the rubble, they found this kid trapped in a cage covered in surgical scars and looking eerily like Philza, and Philza just immediately adopted him. Most of the records of Tommy’s experimentation survived (thankfully, as he has specific medical needs and stuff due to being a patchwork abomination of every species under the sun), so Phil read through them and assumed Tommy was a girl (though he doesn’t really get the concept of gender) and named “her” Clementine.

- Tommy didn’t figure out he was trans for a while, mostly due to being raised by an angel who doesn’t have a gender and his pig friend who doesn’t care (with supplemental help from a half fridge musician and his salmon wife). He always knew that the name Clementine didn’t fit him, though he did love it and much preferred it to being a nameless string of numbers like he used to be.

- He figured it out around the same time as Fundy and his friend Niki (ye i headcanon c!niki as trans for the reason of why not). They all started transitioning around the same time. Tommy very insistently tried to get Niki to choose Clementine as her name. He failed. (Tommy would have been around six or seven, Fundy would have been eleven, and Niki would have been nine)

- Tommy chose his own name, but Wilbur joked it was short for Tomathy and it stuck.

- It’s not too soon after that that the SBI found Tubbo on the side of a road, curled in a sopping wet cardboard box. They learnt through the confused rambling of a child that he was the child of some rich business man, was kidnapped for ransom but escaped, and had been sleeping on the streets for a while. They also found out that he’d named himself (”“Tuberculosis, ‘ts a pretty word, but you c’n call me Tubbo for short!”” the sopping wet seven year old explained proudly, not noticing the barely stifled giggles from Wilbur.) and that he was also transmasc. This isn’t relevant for now but it is important for later sorry.

- When Tommy was nine, he moved from Philza’s isolated cabin far away from danger to the Dream SMP, after being invited. (Tubbo was not, but he snuck in behind Tommy and no one had the heart to kick him out). Of course, soon he was followed by friends and family, and they built a nation and we all know what happens there.

- The L’Manburg war ends when Tommy is ten and peace lasts for two years, so it is when Tommy is twelve, nearly thirteen, that the Pogtopia vs Manburg war begins. Fundy ““accidentally”” does not notice when Tommy steals puberty blockers from him for himself and Tubbo, and definitely does not order more for them (because by this point he’s sixteen and on t already).

- As Tommy grows older, and turns thirteen, and then fourteen, he starts stealing from Fundy’s potion supply of testosterone because this is Minecraft and they totally can make hormone replacement in potions because that’s cool. Tubbo refuses it, scared to be found in possession of some (Schlatt had already found the hormone blockers he’d tried to hide, and slapped him and berated him. Schlatt assumed he was transfemme so it wasn’t as awful as it could be, but it was still pretty traumatic, so Tubbo’d stopped taking them, especially after he saw how Schlatt would misgender and deadname Fundy in private).

- After Nov 16th, Ghostbur potion master extraordinaire brew the hormone potions for Fundy and Tommy. (He’d brew them for Tubbo, too, but the idea was still a bit too much for him, and Tubbo had so much work to do he forgot anyway.)

- Look, I’m all for exile arc angst, okay, but I’m not writing Dream misgendering Tommy during exile. The only person allowed to be transphobic here is Schlatt and that’s because he already canonically is. But uh I’m actually writing a one shot about trans c!Tommy during exile and it’s at 3000+ words and I haven’t mentioned trans stuff in it yet I got too distracted by the angst.

- While Tommy was staying with Technoblade, Techno helped him brew up hormone potions.

- As Tommy sewed up his tattered clothes (with the help of Technoblade, on the days where his hands were too shaken), there was a split in his hoodie where he couldn’t find the right fabric to sew it up and make it look nice so Tommy sewed a trans flag patch over it. (The patch was later damaged through the explosions in Doomsday, and he replaced it with a patch from Tubbo’s old shirt, but Tommy’d totally sew on another trans patch if he had the time.)

- Tommy used to have his hair long as a child, even after he came out, but he cut it off before moving to the SMP, so no one would mistake him for a girl. He really liked it short, but it grew out in exile and he couldn’t be bothered to cut it. When he was with Techno, Technoblade would braid his hair up out of his face and by then Tommy knew no one alive on the SMP would be transphobic and he liked having it braided more than short (it reminds him of Techno and Phil), so he let it grow out again.

- Tommy knew he liked girls before he knew he wasn’t one, asked Wilbur what liking girls called, and Wilbur told him it was lesbian. Tommy didn’t realise that that was what girls who liked girls were called until he was about fourteen and was very confused why people were laughing at him when he called himself a lesbian.

- Tommy’s very insistent on being a Big Man, and insecure in presenting himself in any other way, despite being raised by Philza and Techno, who both don’t know about gender, and Phil’s probably never wore trousers in his life while Techno has a collection of gowns. This comes from when Tommy was little and being babysat by a family friend, Schlatt, who Tommy deeply admired. Schlatt’s... interesting opinions were one of the few contacts Tommy had with gender roles for a while, and Tommy deeply admired Schlatt and thought he was cool, so it influenced him a lot.

- The reason Tommy goes by Tommy Innit instead of his legal last name (Minecraft) is that after Philza asked Tommy for his new name, Tommy went “It’s Tommy, innit?” and began jokingly insisting he meant that it was TommyInnit instead of just Tommy as an injoke.

#dream smp #dream smp headcanons #dsmp #trans c!tommy

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meichenxi · 3 years

Text

Obsession, ‘productivity’ and habits vs routines: starting learning in a healthier way

cw: perfectionism, obsessiveness, allusion to eating disorders, depression, anxiety (very non-explicit) I’m going to be writing a series of posts from some asks I’ve had waiting for me, on how to build a cohesive language learning routine, but I wanted to preface that first with something we talk about less than we should in the language learning community: obsessiveness, perfectionism, recovery from mental health, and how to approach language learning in a better way. If the personal stuff bores you, feel free to skip the first two paragraphs.

I have been trying to ‘be more productive’ - in healthy ways, and unhealthy ways - since I was about ten. If you don’t fit in, for whatever reason, hobbies - and especially creative or ‘productive’ ones - are a wonderful escape. They make you feel that it’s ok not to have friends; they let you look down on all those other stupid children with all the misplaced arrogance of every single bored, clever pre-teen. When I was twelve, I realised there was no point eating with people that didn’t like me and went to the library instead, because that was ‘dead time’. When I was fourteen, I realised getting the bus was ‘dead time’, and started doing Anki for two hours a day. When I was sixteen, I realised walking was ‘dead time’, and started either listening to podcasts or talking out loud. By the time I was eighteen, I was doing four A-levels in school, an EPQ, teaching myself an extra Latin GCSE, and taught myself the Spanish A-level in 3 months right before the exam. I also worked out for two hours a day - because eating lunch was ‘dead time’, and sleeping was ‘dead time’ - trained martial arts four evenings a week, tutored twice a week, had a part-time job as a waitress, played the flute in a prestigious orchestra, and was 150,000 words deep in the first draft of a very gay, Norse-mythology inspired fantasy novel.

I had it all under control. My marks were excellent; I was a well-rounded person, musical and sporty and already decently on the way to becoming a polyglot, I was training to be a teacher, and I had plans to publish my novel. My home life was painful, but I was painfully independent with what I now like to call the ‘Elsa complex’. Or, actually, like Zuko: I could look after myself, by myself. It was all under control.

I guess everyone can see where this is going. School ended, and with it came endless, open days. I fell apart.

With endless surprise, I can now say that, four years later, I think I’ve come through the worst of it. I still have tendencies to get obsessive, but my anxiety and perfectionism are a lot better, I don’t dissociate, and I have - gasp! shock! - actual interest in life again. I never wrote that novel, but I’m still gay and still love Norse mythology, so I’m slowly finding my way towards writing again. What people don’t tell you about getting better, though, is that trying to define yourself, trying to find yourself, as a person who exists without mental illness, is very, very hard. Many of the things that you used to identify as core components of your personality or important values may have changed, and you may be hesitant about trying to take up hobbies that you used to enjoy because you recognise - and rightly so - that the incessant drive to be doing something, all the time, didn’t necessarily come from anywhere healthy. That those things which you clung to and which protected you may actually have ended up harming you in the end. A lot of figuring out old patterns of unhelpful thoughts involves realising that the things that you defended or framed as helping - weren’t. That’s a hard thought, especially because those mechanisms developed to try and protect you, one that’s immeasurably sad.

Seperating your reasons for doing something obsessively and your love of it in the first place, before it became unhealthy, is difficult. And it means that when you feel - finally, finally - ready to start tackling something like language learning again, you end up sorting of approaching it sideways, shiftily, as if you’re hoping to trick yourself into it. It’s a delicate thing, like a baby bird, and it’s dangerous too, because if you do everything which you did before - the only thing you know how to do - it’s not going to work. And every time it fails is personal, because being able to do it again represents getting better, and reclaiming parts of your identity mental illness stole, and it hurts.

I’m writing this post because somebody asked me about my approach to creating a successful language learning routine. And I do have a lot of thoughts - but I wanted to preface that post with this one, to say:

If you are reading this to be more productive, if it is becoming obsessive, if you want to fit the most possible language learning into the tightest schedule possible, STOP. Take care of yourself. These tips for ‘productivity’ are for people who want to learn a little bit more about organising their time, and are in the right space to add more learning to their life. If you are only defined by what many hours you get done a day, if that’s what motivates you, these tips are not for you. Look after yourself.

And on that note, here’s a confession: I don’t have - have never had - a successful language learning routine. Because of what happened, the only way I can keep going and prevent myself from falling into bad habits is if I approach it sideways, if I pretend I’m not taking it seriously, because I know if I don’t things will go wrong. But I want to be honest and upfront because I know a lot of people read my posts for advice and say that this doesn’t work for me. It might not work for you either. I especially know there are a lot of conceptions of successful langblrs with 7, 8, 9 etc languages in the title - that that we spend 5 hours a day on Anki, fall asleep to Glossika, and so on. And it’s especially important to mention now, because I feel like my language learning habits have only started being healthy in the last year or so - essentially since I started actually enjoying Chinese media. I could teach you how to cram every spare second with language learning, or how to successfully pass an A-level in 3 months with no teachers. I was good (and arrogant, and cocky, and needed bringing down a peg or two). But I won’t.

What I do have are succesful language learning habits. Apart from being a generally more flexible appraoch for all learners, the advantage of building successful habits over a fixed routine is that it allows for learning according to different in energy levels, how busy you are, what you find difficult and what else is going on in your life. Most crucially for me is that it is always a much healthier approach, because what I do is not based on number of hours, or number of units a week, or anything quantifiable that allows me to get obsessive again or frustrated that I’m not doing enough.

Routine is important, especially when it comes to routinising daily tasks. The only thing I have is that sometimes - on good weeks, and once or twice even shockingly on good months - I have a decent Anki streak going. That’s it. I don’t listen every day - I don’t read every day - I certainly don’t do grammar every day. There’s nothing specific I do every day, though I usually rack up a good few hours of immersion or study - to be honest, I fail at Anki probably at least 60% of the time. Everything else - all these tips I have written about - I do as and when. Framing it in such vague terms makes it sound like I must have an extraordinary amount of motivation to keep going, that maybe I’m just lucky to be interested etc, but that’s really not the case. What I have done to keep learning regularly and somewhat successfully (I hope!!) without limiting myself to a routine which I know I will starting obsessing over is tying specific language learning behaviour to certain moods or levels of concentration.

All routine is just habit. Habit, with a ribbon and packaged nicely. But allowing yourself to adapt your learning to the circumstances gives you more flexibility than any strict routine, and is more sustainable in the long term. What building habits rather than a specific routine does is allow you to learn what works best when, what works when you’re tired, and what is best to do when you have energy, or when you want to watch a show, or talk to people. It puts you at the centre of your language learning, rather than framing language learning as a central part of you.

So how can we build healthy habits? How can we utilise ‘dead time’ whilst keeping it light, and fun? How can we adapt our language learning for times when we are tired, and stressed? Or what about when we don’t have time to give 100% of our attention or concentration? How can we identify our own strengths, our own weaknesses, and unite these with our personal goals to figure out what to prioritise in active studying, and what to do when we don’t have the energy for that?

I’ll give my thoughts on all of these over the next couple of weeks, in what I hope will be a comprehensive overview of how best to practice, addressing everything from how to practice speaking to how to start as a complete beginner. If you have any thoughts or interim questions, or if you’d like to add your own experience to anything I have said, please feel free to!

In the mean time -

chenxi out.

#chinese #learning chinese #langblr #depression #anxiety #perfectionism #obsessiveness #mental health #recovery #I actually wrote the next post about building habits first #but it didn't feel right because personally I don't reeeeeeally have a successful routine #and giving advice about that - though I do have a lot of ideas - without acknowledging that seems hypocritical at best and unhelpful at wors #I'm lucky enough at the moment that chinese is my **special interest**#so I just sort of...do it without organising it and without much external motivation #but then again my way of learning is also a complete mess #I just look up words in things I'm reading and add them to Anki and learn them SOMETIMES #there's no structure #I really admire people who can sit down with a textbook and do a certain number of things per week #THAT is how you're going to proceed #I write so much about what I'm going to do and my plans and never ever do them #could it BE that I have adhd? who would have guessed #so many promises and I never do them AHHHHHH #anyway #actuallyadhd #excuse the personal Dramatic Backstory as ever but I feel it's important to give my own perspective and humanise the blog a bit #don't do what I do folks lmao

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thompsborn · 3 years

Note

do you have any spare ironhusbands or sambucky headcanons?

ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY

oh my god okay i’ve been so fucking wrapped up in both ironhusbands and sambucky and absolutely nothing else for WEEKS because of tfatws (obviously if you have seen my endless spam of reblogs but can you BLAME ME) and the portal closed has ironhusbands so i’ve been just. oh my god i am happily drowning in this and them and i do not need nor want air. ok.

also these are all hc’s based just in canon not au, and lol warning this got so long help me, though my brain is so scrambled from tfatws finale that all sambucky thoughts are scrambled and jumbled so i wasn't able to coordinate them as well as ironhusbands so the ironhusbands section is definitely longer pfighf i'm so sorry i'm like this

ironhusbands:

when they met at mit tony didnt know shit. like. like nothing. he didnt know a single god damn thing about anything. like he was a genius he could solve any equation given to him and baffled professors when he was handed like two supposedly impossible equations to this fuckin fourteen year old and he just looked at them with like a mcdonalds burger or some shit hanging out of his mouth and just answered them no problem, but he was still such a hopeless idiot, and rhodey, also a genius attending as a sixteen year old, had to teach him the basics of life, like. making toast. tony how do NOT know how to make toast. its TOAST. you put it in the TOASTER. have you NEVER SEEN A—OH MY GOD HOW DID YOU FUCKING CATCH IT ON FIRE—

he does not perfect the clearly impossible task of making toast until he is 17 and rhodey buys him a cake to celebrate the momentous occasion even though tony went though 528 toasters

you are gold by the national parks. thats it. thats all i have to say. listen to the song and look up the lyrics. you’ll get it.

and also paper planes by jon bellion but specifically for after rhodey tells tony he’s gonna join the air force and tony is worried but doesnt know how to show it and they have like a chill night in and all tony can think about is how stupid he is and how he’s such a coward because he cant get himself to tell rhodey that hi!! i love u!! and im scared to lose u and that you’ll get hurt and maybe die or smth!!

when rhodey finds out about how tony was raised (going with mcu, where tony wasnt physically abused but more emotionally neglected and ignored by howard and always talked down to and compared to others and wasnt treated like he was worthy and never was told he was loved and everything like that) he gets PISSED. like he is MONUMENTALLY angry. and it takes YEARS for him to find out about this too. and it actually puts a bit of a strain on their friendship for awhile when they meet too

like rhodey knows about the starks obviously and he assumes tony is going to be this obnoxious arrogant rich boy asshole and is so not looking forward to being roommates but he was raised to have an open mind and give everyone a chance, but tony was raised to be wary of everyone and keep his walls up and his emotions in shackles because whatever he shows can be used against him, so they clash, you know? they dont fight or anything but theres tension bc it isnt right and they dont get each other.

rhodey tries to be nice and tony doesnt understand nice because his only example of nice is jarvis and his mom and even then his mom and jarvis are always off with his dad so he barely sees them so its still rare for him to experience the nice of them so he doesnt know how to be around someone nice all the time, and so he gets defensive and thinks about how howard drilled it into him to be wary and he thinks maybe rhodey isnt ACTUALLY nice but someone PRETENDING to be

and rhodey starts to feel justified in assuming the worst about tony stark because tony is all cold and distant and rude and is about to stop the keeping an open mind thing about a month into their first year but then he comes back to their dorm early from class one day and tony doesnt come in so rhodey is just standing there and watches for a minute as tony sits there staring down at his twenty sixth attempt at a letter he wants to send his mom becauss he knows his mom likes letters even though he could just call but they havent really called him (howards fault but he’s fourteen still and its hard to rationalize that howards busy life and controlling thumb extends past his son) and rhodey is just confused because tony just suddenly sighs and sniffles a bit and murmurs “this is so stupid” and crumbles up the paper and throws it in the garbage and rhodey cant help but peer into it and barely sees the words hey mom scribbled at the top and that. that. hm. okay.

so rhodey keeps trying because he wasnt supposed to see that but he did and now he kind of has a feeling that maybe tony isnt all that cold and distant and rude as he seems, maybe he just doesnt really know how to be any different, so he thinks about all the subtle little ways that his family has shown him they care about him and starts to invite tony to go get food or to study together even though neither of them really need to study or to help each other with assignments or just anything thats mundane enough to not raise suspicion but still starts to open the door and make tony relax around him just that little bit and then before tony realizes it the end of their first year is there and theyre like friends or something and it hits him that he’s gonna miss rhodey.

for the first time ever there’s someone other than his mom and jarvis that he’s actually going to miss.

rhodey grins at him and says that they’ll be roommates again next year because they have to be and that the summer will be over before they know it and the sentiment is nice but tony spends the summer alone wandering around a house too big and empty after being in a dorm that’s small and has a friend.

but rhodey doesn’t know this. like he knows that tony isn’t the kind of guy he originally assumed but he doesn’t know that he’s literally ignored and neglected and like emotionally and sometimes verbally abused so he’s kind of surprised when the next year begins and they DO end up being roommates again (because tony kind of asked his mom, on a rare day when he got to see her and howard wasnt around, to get mit to make sure they could be) and tony just HUGS him like its been years and they’ve known each other forever but he goes with it and hugs him back because maybe tony’s just more affectionate once he gets to know someone and rhodey is okay w that.

they get closer as the years go by and they graduate from mit together and they’re BEST friends and at the end of the year rhodey invites tony to spend new years eve w his family but tony cant bc howard is having some kind of gala starting at 5 because hes weird and dumb and tony hates it and he also isnt given the option of not going even though he doesnt want to but the entire way there howard drills into him about not fucking up and berates him for all the times he has in the past and when they get there tony is already just not feeling it so he’s like nope!! no!! i simply cannot!!

so he goes in and finds an exit thats in the back and he leaves and finds a fucking payphone of all things and he has rhodeys home number memorized for years now and he calls and someone he doesnt knoe answers and theres music in the background and voices and tony’s entire stomach is in his throat and his heart is sunken into his twisted gut because he just wanted one night where maybe he could smile next to his parents and feel like he fit with them but he couldnt have that and he asks to talk to rhodey and then he is and asks if its too late to accept his invite and rhodey is like yeah of course do u need my address bc its still only 5 pm and its a 2 hour drive between south philadelphia and manhattan so he’d make it with plenty of time before it got to midnight so yay

and tony is like. oh. hm. i dont know how to drive actually. that was a thing that no one ever thought to teach me even though i asked about it about ten million times. and rhodey is used to tony not knowing how to do things that most people their age can (see: the toast) and plus its not uncommon for people from new york to not drive anyway so he doesnt think anything of it and instead asks for tony’s address to come pick him up instead and they’d still make it back by like 9-9:30 so that would work too

and thats when tony is like. well.

about that.

he might be calling from a payphone.

on a random street corner.

and its kind of raining. and he’s cold. and he’s a bit dulled out from everything so he doesn’t really think about the fact that admitting this is going to lead to having to explain what happened and also why and that is happens often. but that doesnt matter because he kind of just wants to be with his best friend and not back at that gala with his dad right now.

rhodey is like,,, ok. ok. wheres a coffee shop nearby u can wait in. and tony thankfully is by a 24 hour one and tells him the name and the street corner its closest to and rhodey is like i’ll be there asap and tony goes and he waits.

a two hour drive turns into an hour and a half because rhodey is Worried™

but when he walks in tony goes from being all dulled out to being all HOLY SHIT because rhodey has a SPLIT LIP and he’s like WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED WHAT THE FUCK WHAT

and rhodey’s like no no its good my uncle was having fun and trying to wrestle with me and he accidentally elbowed me its all good man dont worry about it

tony isnt used to accidentally being hurt tho so he’s still like hmmm but he takes rhodeys word on it and they head out and tony wont say what happened or why he was calling from a payphone ?? which btw tony literally only was able to do bc there happened to be dropped change on the ground because boy would not have change on him ok, but rhodeys like alright lets go with this for now

so they gets to the rhodes house and it is in full swing with family and extended family and adopted family bc they are 100% the family that just adopts the neighborhood kids and the people who have no one else and like ex boyfriends and ex girlfriends even after the relationship ends bc they still are family despite not dating whoever it was they had been dating in order to be introduced to them so its a LOT of people and tony is like. this is semi familiar in terms a lot of people but this is NOTHING like what he has ever seen before holy fucking SHIT

rhodey is just like oh u have a small family then? so ur used to smaller gatherings?

and tonys like wtf are gatherings

and rhodey is starting to get a feel for what might be wrong but just takes tony inside to get him changed because he’s not spending new years eve at the rhodes house in a fucking expensive suit ok

tony is completely out of his element and like he’s not the only white guy there bc again the rhodes adopt people and those people are of every race and nationally you can imagine but he just isnt used to the vibe there are people laughing and sitting close together and playing games and theres music playing but not like classy music its music people can dance to and are dancing to and the food isnt the food he’s used to at galas and shit and nothing is what he’s used to and he just sticks to rhodey’s side like a fucking lost puppy and tries his best not to look like an idiot when rhodey introduces him to people and a lot of them know who he is but dont judge him or assume shit about him bc obviously if he’s friends w rhodey then he’s a good guy and they want to know him and thats enough

but tony is v overwhelmed bc what the FUCK IS HAPPENING this is nothing like anything he has ever experienced EVER

so eventually rhodey can tell he’s getting overwhelmed and takes him inside and lets him have a breather and then asks him about whats going in and thats when rhodey learns about what tonys life at home is really like and. anger.

SO MUCH anger

because not only has every single assumption he has ever made about tony been proven wrong, but now he knows that the best person he knows has never been treated the way he deserves and has never known a true home and comfort and love and safety and

and he’s gonna fix it

and this is the first step

so he takes tony back out and they’re still just friends but this is the day they both quietly realize they might kind of definitely like each other as more because tony is still so confused by the fact that what he knows isnt the normal and overwhelmed by how much there is and how different it is but rhodey holds his hand as a grounding point and whenever it might be too much they move off to the side where they arent completely gone but its less hectic and a bit more quiet and its just nice

tony goes to rhodeys house for every holiday despite whatever howard says

rhodey decks howard the only time they ever meet before tonys parents die and he has the most shit eating grin on his face afterwards that tony cant help but lose his shit laughing his ass off

anyway i didnt mean to ramble for so long about that specific idea so i’ll end the ironhusbands ramble with this one last thought, which is as follows:

rhodey gets hurt in the air force at some point, and it isnt that bad tbh but he does have to go the hospital and shit and gets stitches or whatever idk i dont know what specifically happens i just think it’d be just bad enough that it takes him a few weeks to be able to go back to work but he’s not like OH GOD HURT yk?

but like stated above tony was scared and worried when rhodey told him he was gonna go into the air force so he hears about this and they’re probably like almost 30 at this point because they’re dumb and it takes them forever to get their heads out of their asses (i say this even though in the portal closed it takes them even longer but i digress) rhodey has like his mon his sister his niece visiting him and they were worried but they know hes fine so theyre just talking and in a good mood and then—

door slams open. tony stark enter stage left. disheveled suit, fresh from a meeting he definitely was not supposed to leave, having flown in from maibu the second he heard and then had happy drive him and then got impatient because of traffic and ended up sprinting like ten blocks while happy was like what the FUCK

of course rhodeys family are well aware that these idiots are desperately in love with each other so they’re just like lol ok and just leave the room while tony starts fretting over him like he’s about to die himself if he doesnt know if rhodey is okay and rhodey is like tony tony dude tones stop tony im okay tony stop it

until finally tony just fucking breaks down like full on tears in his eyes voice cracking hands clasped as he leans against rhodeys bed and tells him that he was so scared and he is so scared all the time whenever rhodey is out there because all he can think about is losing him and him getting hurt or dying and it’s maddening and this is when they get their heads out of their asses and kiss for the first time

(irony at its finest bc later when they are married and tony becomes iron man rhodey refuses to not have a suit of his own because if tony is going out there in a metal flying tin can then he isn’t going alone and wow what a power couple)

sambucky:

firstly i’m going to go post tfatws, but i’ll make a bullet point before going into it so if you wanna read up until that point you can but most of this will be random little headcanons based post tfatws

also it isnt like a whole plotline thing like the ironhusbands ones ended up being these ones are more random and kinda all over the place but loosely connected

update from after writing this: i lied

let me start by saying my interpretation of why they are the way they are in civil war is because of steve

thats not saying steve is the bad guy i mean to say that they’re jealous of each other because they thought that THEY were steve’s best friend who the fuck is THIS guy i dont want him here go away

children. they are children.

which i find very funny to imagine from sams pov because he literally is a licensed therapist and would 100% recognize why he’s acting how he is but he’s petty enough to do it anyway

and also he literally was helping steve track bucky down but i like to imagine that sam didnt think they’d ever really find him again and it’d just make him and steve like super mega best friends or something because hes a CHILD

and then from bucky’s pov steve goes through all this trouble to find him and protect him and then this random guy is acting like steve’s best friend and gets to sit in the front seat ??? bullshit. absolutely bullshit. worst thing ever. so stupid.

its so funny to me okay its SO funny

its like that schoolyard thing where your friend makes another friend and you hate it so much that you do something stupid like color on their drawing or put gum in their hair or whatever but they’re adults with 1. super soldier serum or 2. a superhero reputation/avengers status and suit with wings. so thats a thing.

post civil war i dont think they get much yk. because bucky is out in cryo and team cap is on the run and i doubt theyre able to return to wakanda much, if at all, and then it’s infinity war and then it’s endgame and after endgame there’s the aftermath and the aftermath is a mess

i like to think they have some moments before tfatws though. not many but enough for that slight foundation thats we can kind of see in episode 2 yk.

okay NOW it gets into post tfatws so!!

SO post tfatws everything is different because now they not only have spent all this time together, but they understand each other in a way that they didn’t before. in a way no one ever has. not even steve, who may have known them before, but he isn’t here anymore and he wouldn’t understand who they are now vs who they were before and it’s different.

bucky finds comfort in sam’s home town. sam finds comfort in watching bucky find a home there and he doesnt know why.

also sam treats redwing like a puppy and lets him fly around on his own and gets pet and stuff and bucky acts annoyed but the longer it happens you can tell he’s like “oh my god why is this thing endearing”

bucky has nightmares and sam knows this but bucky doesnt know that sam also has nightmares until one night when they’re still in sams home town and they’re staying on the boat because sams nephews are having a sleepover with some friends and they didnt want to get in the way or smth idk i just want an excuse for them to be on the boat and somewhat secluded from people but bucky already woke up from his nightmare and is out on the deck to get some fresh out and then oop

sam havin a nightmare too

because fucking of COURSE sam has nightmares he has been through some shit too!! not being able to catch riley and everything that happened since meeting steve and thanos and he turned to dust alone in the bushes ok like yes everyone that died were traumatized undoubtedly (peter my baby boy baby im so sorry that you got the worst of it) but bucky was around people but sam was laying on the ground and probably just watched his hands as he disappeared and he was alone and like. jesus christ ok.

and then steve trusted him with every weight and everything that comes with the shield not knowing how much more the shield has when he gave it to a black man and just like he has nightmares everyone in marvel does its a fact

but bucky finds out like this and he is shocked even though he realizes he probably should have been able to guess that this is a thing and he knows so much more about sam now than he ever did but this is how he learns more. he learns about riley. he learns so much.

sometimes bucky has those like “oh shit” moments where he’s like “maybe i was kind of a dick to someone who didnt deserve it” and he already had one of those with sam about the shield but he has another one because he assumed shit about sam when they were being all childish and jealous about someone else being friends with steve but like fuck

steve and sam probably got it

the not catching someone. the way it felt to try and to reach out and to miss and to have to choice but to watch as they fell.

what’s different is that steve got bucky back. he got to have that relief, eventually, even if there was the pain of knowing bucky had been taken by hydra, but at least he knew bucky had made it.

sam didn’t have that. riley didnt make it.

therefore, bucky has his “oh shit”

and bucky was already going soft around the edges with sam (as clearly seen in the last two episodes of tfatws, ESPECIALLY the finale because like did tou SEEZ ALL THE HEART EYES oh my GOD) but it’s this that really makes something in him melt and he just. he loses the last remnants of whatever tension or resentment or whatever negative feeling he may have been clutching onto.

there wasnt much left. but now theres none. now its all washed away.

its gone, and he gets it.

sam is a licensed therapist and he knew the reason he was being all dumb and childish and jealous with bucky was because steve had another best friend but also because steve’s other best friend was the guy that had been a big factor in how him and steve understood each other and how they bonded and it

it had kind of felt like they lost part of that when they found bucky again in civil war and he kind of wanted to blame bucky for it even though he didnt actually blame him at all so all it translated to was that dumb kind of jealous thing instead

but now it’s just them. its sam and bucky and it isnt steve and it isnt about steve and it shouldnt be because its about them. its about the boat and the water and the way they sit and watch the waves while the silence settles over them and the way that bucky says, “im sorry.”

its the way sam says, “me too.”

and bucky says, “you dont have to be.”

its the way they stay there until sarah comes to get them for breakfast and sams nephews convince them to play with them and their friends and the world is still shit and there is so much to do but

but its this and its them and that can wait

it can wait

they can take their time if they want to

maybe they’ve earned that much, at least

(it isn't a fast development because they're a complicated pair and there's so much to the two of them that need to figured out individually before they can even realize how well they work together, but the steps are so much easier knowing that they have the other in their corner and bucky knows that sam's home town is a place he's welcome to go and sam helps him make his own dreary little apartment into something that feels real and tangible with a bed and a couch and when they've become something that resembles stable and they've found a balance and they're okay, that's when they realize that maybe they can try for the more that sometimes bubbles under their skin and that they started to think about the more they spend time together. the warmth that sam feels every time he sees bucky playing games with his nephew and the smile that bucky has to fight to hide and still can't fully suppress when sam stands tall and proud with the shield in its rightful place, and it takes time, it takes work, it takes carefully placed bricks to build the foundation they need, but they get there, and when they do...

when they do, they're already happy, and it just makes them happier, and that's what makes it so much better.

that's what makes it worth the wait.)

#ironhusbands #sambucky #headcanons #asks

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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 18: Barbara

Ao3

Content warning: graphic description of injuries, mentions of violence

“Dr. Lake that was the Blood Bank, they really want their cooler back,”

Barbara winced, three hours ago she’d had an eighty year old patient come in with a GI bleed and an H and H of 4 g/dl and 11%. She’d only just gotten them stable after a lot of frantic work and two emergency issue units of O Neg. Keeping track of the blood cooler had been the last thing on her mind.

But it would not pay to get on the Blood bank’s bad side. They were highly protective of their blood coolers, and they remembered everything.

“It should be in room three, if not let me know and I’ll help you look for it,”

The RN nodded once and then headed off in search of the wayward cooler.

Barbara waited a few more seconds before she allowed herself to lean back in her seat and take a sip of her water. The ED had finally calmed down to the point that she could afford to slip away from the floor and take a breather. Hopefully things would stay quiet enough that she could spend her fifteen minutes in peace.

Apparently that was too much to ask because four minutes into her break someone else was poking their head into the break room.

“Dr. Lake?” it was Miranda, the charge nurse for the ED who had been there twice as long as she had.

Barbara bit the inside of her cheek and forced her tone to be light “Yes?”

“We have an assault victim in the ED,”

The beginnings of a frown pulled at her lips. An assault victim, but not a full trauma that would require all hands on deck. If that had been the case they would have announced it over the intercom.

“Is Dr. Jenkins available to take care of them?”

“He is-- and he’s actually looking him over right now,”

This time Barbara let the frown show on her face “Then what do you need me for?” she was trying her darndest not to snap at Miranda, but for goodness sakes, she knew how precious their breaks were.

“That’s...that’s not why I came here,” Miranda dropped her gaze, taking a deep breath before she met Barbara’s eyes again “The assault victim...it’s...it’s Jim,”

For a moment time stood still, Barbara not registering what she had just heard. A few seconds staring at the pained expression on Miranda’s face was what it took for the truth to sink in.

The paper cup slipped from her fingers as she practically jumped out of her chair, heartbeat in her throat and limbs tingling with electricity. Barely heard water splashing against the linoleum past the roaring in her ears.

Suddenly taking a break was the last thing on her mind.

“Where is he?”

“Exam room twelve, and I already talked to Sue, she says you’re good to take the rest of your shift off,”

Barbara was already out the door and moving “Thank you,”

Miranda gave her a nod just before she disappeared from sight as Barbara dashed around the corner.

An assault victim. Jim. Her Jim. Not a full trauma, she would have heard. His life wasn’t at risk. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be very very bad.

Glancing to the right, she kept an eye on the door numbers ticking by as she sprinted down the hall.

Eighteen, sixteen, fourteen, twelve--

Barbara stopped short, hands flying over her mouth, stifling her horrified gasp into a low whimper.

Jim was sitting on the exam room table holding an ice pack to his temple, blue jacket splattered in dark stains that could only be blood. She couldn’t see his face clearly, Dr. Jenkins stood between them examining Jim’s scalp while a large man in sweatpants loitered in the corner, twisting a baseball cap in his hands and watching Jim and Jenkins with an anxious look on his face.

As troubling as the sight was, it did give her a small measure of relief.

If Jim’s injuries were critical he wouldn’t be conscious and sitting upright. The fact that he was cognizant enough to sit there and calmly let Jenkins examine him was good news in and of itself.

Unfortunately that still left a lot of room for some very serious possibilities.

Stuffing her fears onto a shell of clinical composure, Barbara pulled open the door and stepped into the room “D-- Dr. Jenkins, how bad is it?”

All three of them turned towards her, allowing Barbara to see the full extent of Jim’s injuries. The sight hit her like a fist to the gust, nearly making her stagger.

Jenkins had no doubt cleaned the worst of it up, but it still looked awful. From the neck up Jim’s skin was punctuated by splashes of bright red where the skin was ripped open. Wounds ranging in size from short, thin cuts to gashes the size of a silver dollar. Most of them were already scabbed over, but some were fresh and oozing neon red blood. The skin that wasn’t torn and bleeding was mottled with inky dark bruises, colored in every shade from indigo to black. Both of his lips were split, his nose crooked; both puffed up to twice their normal size.

Jim lowered the ice pack, revealing that one of his eyes was swollen shut as well, and sluggishly looked over at her. His right eye, the only visible one, was bleary and unfocused, that was probably from--

“Did you give him morphine?”

Jenkins stammered for a moment before recovering “Ah uh yes, I did,”

“Did you check--”

“Dr. Lake,” Jenkins’ tone was soft but firm, his gaze even more so.

Barbara flushed.

Jenkins had been at the clinic for over seven years. He was every inch as skilled as she was; undercutting him like this was unprofessional, unhelpful, and downright rude.

Right now Jenkins was the doctor. Barbara’s job was to be a mother and be there for Jim.

“I-- I’m sorry,”

He let out a breath, shoulders relaxing “That’s ok, no harm done, fortunately I can tell you right now that Jim does not have a concussion and all of his cuts are superficial, and should heal with minimal scarring,”

A massive weight lifted off her chest.

“That’s...that’s good to hear,”

“Uh loth a ooth an muh nuz,” Jim mumbled from the bench.

“Don’t try to talk, you could make your injuries worse,” Jenkins looked back towards Barbara, uncomfortable “However he did loose a tooth and I believe his nose is broken,”

Barbara’s stomach sank another inch.

“I’m just about done cleaning and dressing his injuries, once I’ve finished I can give you a more complete run down,”

She nodded slowly, willing the adrenaline to flow away as she stepped towards the exam table “Jim, hon, I know you’re probably feeling pretty lousy right now, but is there anything we can do for you?”

Jim lifted his head and shook it once, raising the ice pack back over his swollen eye.

Barbara had to swallow hard to keep the twisting feeling in her belly under control “Dr. Jenkins needs to finish looking you over, but I’ll be right here if you need anything,”

He looked her in the eye and nodded again. Barbara gently took one of Jim’s hands in her own, giving his fingers a light squeeze. Looking back over towards Jenkins, she met his eyes and then inclined her head towards Jim, giving him the go-ahead to continue.

Taking the queue, Jenkins stepped back up and once again took Jim’s scalp in his hands “Ok Jim remember, some pressure is normal, but if you feel any sharp pain let me know…”

Barbara stood vigil while Jenkins dressed Jim’s injuries. Cleaning the skin with a damp cloth, Jim hissing as he did, closing the smaller cuts with butterfly bandages, taping gauze over the worst of them.

She forced herself to watch in silence, if Jenkins wanted her opinion he would ask for it, keeping her attention focused on Jim himself.

These weren’t injuries from just a punch or two, someone had come after Jim with a frightening amount of violence. But who? And what exactly had happened? Jim should have been at school, had another student done this to him?

Curious, she glanced over at Jim’s hands, both the one holding the ice pack and the one in her grasp. The skin over both of them was completely intact, untouched by bruises or cuts.

“Alright I think I’ve got everything taken care of for now,” Jenkins stepped back and peeled off his gloves, gaze flickering between Barbara and Jim “Ok Jim, next I’d like to take you to get some x-rays done. I want to see if there’s any other bone damage beyond what we can see in your nose, quite frankly I’m concerned about the possibility if a le fort fracture,”

Even though her guts were curdling at the thought of Jim dealing with a le fort fracture, Barbara nevertheless stayed composed and nodded tersely at his words “Ok,”

Jenkins let out a gusty sigh, running a hand through his hair “I’ll level with you Jim, we’re probably going to be keeping you overnight for observation,”

Her heart stopped “I-- I’m sorry, what?”

“Just as a precaution,” Jenkins raised a placating hand, misunderstanding the cause of her distress “I don’t want to risk aggravating any fractures, after we get the x rays back we’ll know a little bit more and be able to come up with a game plan,”

For his part Jim hadn’t reacted at all, most likely too out of it from the injuries and painkillers. But Barbara was doing enough panicking for two.

They couldn’t. That wasn’t an option. If Jim stayed in the hospital overnight everyone would see-- Oh god what if he actually needed surgery to repair some fractures? How would they even--

With tremendous force of will, Barbara smothering her rising panic and schooled her features to show only the appropriate amount of concern while she helped Jim to his feet.

Now was not the time to lose her cool, and there was a chance Jim would be discharged before sundown and she would have nothing to worry about. The only thing she knew for certain at the moment was that Jim needed to get those x-rays done.

With her guiding arm around his shoulders, she was able to pull a sluggish Jim to the door, following along behind Jenkins. They headed down the hall to the ED’s imaging room, Barbara easing Jim down into one of the waiting chairs when they got there. Jenkins poked his head into the room, exchanging words with one of the techs.

“It should just be a minute while they get everything ready,”

Jim leaned back in his chair with a groan, Barbara laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Umm...excuse me, Dr. Lake,”

Startled, Barbara looked over to see the large man she’d first noticed in the exam room, with everything that had been going on she’d all but forgotten he was here.

“I’m, uh….Coach Lawrence, from your son’s school. Do you mind if we talk for a bit?” his eyes flitted back and forth “Somewhere private?”

“I’m not sure if….” Barbara glanced back.

Jenkins gave her a nod “Go ahead, I’ll take care of Jim while we wait for the x-ray,”

Her gaze flickered over to Jim, who gave her a single affirmative nod.

Pulling her professional shell tight around her, Barbara turned back towards Lawrence “Ok, let’s step over into the lounge,”

They hustled to the small room at the end of the hall, Barbara shutting the door behind them “What happened to my son?”

Lawrence flinched “Jim was...in an altercation with another student,”

“An altercation? You mean a fight!?”

He flushed “Yes-- ummm…a fight,”

Despite being incredibly anxious about the extent of Jim’s injuries, and terrified of the possibility that he might need to be admitted, Barbara still found room to be absolutely furious.

“I saw his hands, they were completely clean; no cuts, no bruises, no defensive wounds. This wasn’t a fight, my son didn’t throw a single punch,”

With every word she said Lawrence squirmed even more “You’re….you’re not wrong, in any case principal Levit and superintendent Kuhn would like to have a a meeting tomorrow morning, to go over exactly what happened, with both boys and their parents present,”

Barbara could feel her face darken “You want my son in the same room as the boy who did that to him?”

Despite the fact that he towered above her Lawrence was shrinking under her gaze “The superintendent wants everyone involved there,” he jabbered out in a high pitched voice “Steve, the other student involved, is...also making accusations,”

Her heart skipped a beat. Steve, that was a name Barbara had heard before.

Standing a little taller now, Lawrence continued “But both myself and a police officer will be present at this meeting to ensure everyone’s safety,”

Barbara sucked in a deep breath through her nose. She was not pleased at hearing this. But now, especially now, she needed to pick and choose her battles carefully.

“Fine, we’ll be there,”

Lawrence looked surprised at how quickly she agreed, but nevertheless nodded gratefully “Alright then, I’ll send you an email with more details,” he took half a step towards the door and paused “I’m...I’m sorry, I should have prevented this, but I failed and a student go hurt on my watch,”

He turned back, glint of steel in his eyes “And I promise, I will not let anything happen to Jim at tomorrow’s meeting.

Momentarily caught off guard, it took Barbara a few seconds to find her tongue “Th-- That sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Lawrence nodded in acknowledgement before he turned and left, heading out the door and walking away down the hall.

Barbara let out a breath, and then pulled one in. Breathe for five, hold for five, exhale for five; repeat.

Steadier now, Barbara headed out of the break room and back towards imaging. Seeing the waiting chair empty and the In-Use sign lit up, she discreetly stepped through the side door that lead into the observation booth. Jenkins was there, along with the tech, and through the window she could see Jim laying on the table with the x-ray machine hovering above him.

She and Jenkins locked eyes and nodded in silent greeting as she stepped up to his side. Watching Jim lying back with the large machine looming as it beamed radiation into his skull. But one glance at the clock on the wall was all it took to remind her of what was at stake.

They had a little time left, but not much.

Jenkins had mentioned he was mostly thinking about keeping him overnight to avoid aggravating his injuries. Maybe she could convince him that taking Jim home where he could relax would be better for him mentally? No, that wouldn’t be well received. Jenkins would interpret that as Barbara undercutting his professional opinion. Which to be fair, it was. But that meant she had to consider…

“Have you decided what to prescribe him yet?” she whispered

Jenkins gave a little start of surprise “Some ibuprofen for the pain and inflammation, along with antibiotics to prevent infection,”

“Would it be alright if you wrote it out now so I can go pick it up?”

“Don’t you want to….” his gaze slid over to where Jim was lying on the x-ray table.

Barbara had to strain to keep her tone light, already feeling slimy from the lie she was about to tell to someone she trusted and respected a great deal “I know Jim’s in good hands with you, I just need to take a step back and clear my head,”

Jenkins relaxed, making the weight of guilt on her chest triple, and pulled out his prescription pad, quickly scribbling on it before handing the top slip over “Ok then Dr. Lake, we’ll finish up here and meet you back in the exam room,”

She thanked him and then hurried out of the room and towards the pharmacy at the other end of the hospital, praying there wouldn’t be a line. In a miraculous stroke of luck the pharmacy was nearly empty, and Barbara was able to get Jim’s medicine in record time.

Rushing back to the exam room, paper bag tucked safely under her arm and throat tightening when she saw the time, Barbara stepped in and saw Jim once again sitting on the exam table talking with Jenkins.

The other doctor turned at the sound of the door opening

“Oh Dr. Lake, you’re just in time. I just got the x-ray results back, we were waiting for you to discuss them,”

She managed to give him a weak smile as she stepped to Jim’s side “Thank you, so what are we looking at?”

Beaming, Jenkins stepped over to where the black and white images were already set up in the illuminator “I’ve got good news,” he traced a finger just under where Jim’s left eye would be “Both of the orbital sockets and zygomatic arches are completely intact, and I see no signs of a le fort fracture,”

Cool relief washed over her, practically knocking Barbara off her feet. Sockets and arches intact, no le fort fracture. It wasn’t as bad as it could be “That’s really good to hear,”

Jenkins flashed her a small grin, before his expression quickly turned somber “However your nose is indeed broken,” he pointed to the image on the far left, where sure enough, the nasal bone was clearly separated from the frontal bone by a large fissure.

“And there is some cracking along the angle of your mandible,” he moved his fingers to trace the image of Jim’s jaw. Barbara had to squint this time, but the cracks were there.

Lowering his hand, Jenkins turned to face them fully “You’ll have to get looked over by a specialist, I think Dr. Nahreini might be available, but there is a change that these might need to be corrected with surgery,”

Barbara fought not to react to those words “Do you know how soon we can see Dr. Nahreini?”

Jenkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully “I’m not sure, I’d have to check his schedule, although, assuming surgery isn’t needed, the absolute soonest he could be able to correct these would be tomorrow,”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed. That was not good, there was still a chance Jenkins wouldn’t keep Jim overnight, but they were out of time and the risks were too high for her to take that gamble. Which left Barbara with only one option. Just the thought of what she was about to do was almost enough to make her physically ill, but she had no other choice.

Not unless she wanted Jim’s transformations exposed to the entire hospital.

“Do you mind looking at his schedule right now? I’d like to be able to make a plan as soon as possible,”

Jenkins raised an eyebrow at her, but he looked curious rather than suspicious “Ok then, I’ll be right back,”

She smiled and nodded as he stepped out the door, even as her pulse pounded in her ears, the smile dropping off her face the second he left. Barbara waited half a minute before cautiously peeking her head out the door. When she saw the hallway was empty she knew they had to move fast.

“Ok Jim we need to go, up up up,”

Jim looked confused, or perhaps he was still in a daze from the morphine, but nevertheless complied and got to his feet.

After one more glance up and down the hall and then Barbara was hurrying out of the room, steering Jim in front of her by the shoulders.

With every step her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch, terrified that someone would see her and ask what the hell she was doing. They managed to get to the parking lot without incident, although seeing the sun touching the horizon did give her a miniature MI.

“Ok sweetie just lie down in the back seat now,”

After she opened the door for him Jim flopped down on the back seat; groaning and clutching his jaw. Barbara winced and hustled into the driver’s seat. Ice settling in her ribcage and creeping out through her veins as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot and into the street.

And despite the fact that the sun would be down in a matter of minutes and this was the only way to keep Jim’s secret from being exposed. The guilt of what she’d just done, both as a mother and a doctor, pounded into her like a hammer.

This is abuse. Depriving children of medical care is abuse. And you should know, didn’t your own mother refuse to get you glasses until high school.

Barbara jerked in her seat when she saw the flash of motion in the rearview mirror and heard a whine of protest from the carseats. Jim’s groans becoming husky.

The chill in her blood somehow became even colder. Suddenly she was very aware of each and every other car on the road, of the people walking on the sidewalk not six feet away.

Please don’t let anyone notice. Please just let us get home safe.

There would be consequences for this. Severe consequences. She may even lose her job, and honestly Barbara deserved much worse. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was keeping Jim safe.

The twenty minute drive felt like a lifetime, but finally she was pulling into their garage, door lowering shut behind them.

The second the door shut for good Barbara allowed herself only one deep, shuddering breath, to dispel the frost in her chest, then she was up and out of her seat. Going around and reaching in to help Jim extract himself from the back of the car.

“That’s it honey, inside to the couch, we’re almost there,”

They were home now. There would be a reckoning for what Barbara had done, but for now they were safe.

She managed to herd Jim inside towards the living room, where he promptly collapsed on the couch with a grunt, raising the ice pack back over his eye. The constriction from his now too small clothes couldn’t be helping anything. But helping Jim into more comfortable clothes would have to wait until she took care of more pressing matters.

While Jim settled himself on the couch, Barbara gave him a once over. From what she could tell at a glance it didn’t look like the shift to his blue form had made Jim’s facial injuries any worse, of course it hadn’t made them any better either. The swelling looked strange transferred over to more angular features. Blue skin giving all of his bruises a navy cast. But what shocked her the most was that, while the bits of old dried blood on his skin were still rusty brown, the fluid leaking from his uncovered cuts was a brilliant, royal blue.

Barbara could spend time puzzling over the implications of that later, right now she had bigger fish to fry.

Scurrying into the kitchen, Barbara grabbed a glass from the cabinet and ripped open the prescription bag. First Jim needed to take a dose of painkillers. He was already probably coming down from the morphine they gave him at the clinic, so she needed to get the ibuprofen into his system as fast as possible. Especially if he wanted any chance at sleep tonight.

“uh...muh,”

Barbara unscrewed the cap from the first bottle and looked down at the tiny pills. Should she alter the dosage to Jim’s new height and weight? No, she didn’t know near enough about these drugs or Jim’s nighttime physiology to risk playing with medications. They’d just have to give him the prescribed dosage and hope for the best.

“Muh,”

Her eyes flickered back towards the glass she’d pulled out. Jim shouldn’t have any of these on an empty stomach. But solid foods were out of the question. Water was good but he should have something substantial to. Broth maybe? Applesauce? But right now neither of those things were palatable to him. He really liked motor oil when he was blue but Barbara had no idea how nutritious that actually--

“Mah!”

She snapped her head over towards the couch. Jim was lying propped up against the end, working his jaw to try and form words.

“Sweetie sweetie--” Barbara hurried over towards his side “Don’t talk right now, we don’t know how badly your jaw was damaged, any kind of talking or movement could make things worse,”

Jim slackened against the couch, only for one arm to fumble for the notebook and sharpie on the coffee table. Grabbing them, he scribbled something on the notebook and then flipped it around.

This ok?

“Yes that should be fine,”

Although now Barbara wished they were both fluent in ASL, that would make this a lot smoother. And she didn’t know if it was the morphine wearing off or the shift to his blue form, but it was clear from the focus in his eyes and the alertness in his posture, that Jim was now completely lucid.

“You just lie there and try to relax, I’m going to get you your medicine and then--”

A hand on her wrist stopped her from heading into the kitchen.

Barbara immediately turned back to face him “Jim, what is it? Do you need something?”

He looked up and met her eyes, and despite the swelling and the bruises and the overall shift of Jim’s features into something other than human, one look at her son’s face and Barbara could tell that he was completely heartbroken.

I need to tell you something

Barbara pulled into the school parking lot, glancing at Jim from the corner of her eye, nose freshy reset and bandaged.

This morning they’d gone back to the hospital as early as they could, where Jenkins and Nahreini were waiting for them. Like she knew they would be in the very strongly worded email Jenkins had sent her last night.

The only positive things about their return visit was that Nahreini had been able to reset Jim’s nose by hand under local anesthesia. And he’d determined from the CT scan that surgery, or even getting the mandible fixed in place, wouldn’t be necessary. Just rest and a liquid diet.

Although they did have to be at the dentist at noon to get Jim’s missing tooth checked out.

Nahreini had volunteered to go with Jim to the dentist, claiming that he needed to make sure the dentist was fully aware of the damage on Jim’s jaw, but the way he’d looked at Barbara while he said it made it clear that this was less of a favor and more that he didn’t trust her to make appropriate choices regarding Jim’s medical treatment.

She’d taken him up on the offer all the same.

The rest of her coworkers hadn’t said anything, but the way they’d looked at her had said it all.

They’d looked at her like she was one of those parents. That thought they knew better than the trained medical professionals. One of those doctors. That developed an ego and refused to work as a team.

And even if Jenkins hadn’t made it explicitly clear to her in the hallway while Nahreini was resetting Jim’s nose, there was an email burning a hole in her inbox.

While Jim was at the dentist this afternoon, Barbara would be sitting down with the medical director to discuss her future at Arcadia Oaks Medical Center.

Needless to say Barbara wasn’t looking forward to that, quite frankly she was still amazed that they’d cleared them to go to this meeting at the school in the first place. Of course this meeting wasn’t anything she was looking forward to either.

Last night Jim had managed to give her the full story of what happened through notes scrawled on the notebook he now carried with him everywhere.

Some of the things he’d told her had been more or less what Barbara expected, but some of it had shaken her to her core.

Even over twelve hours later she was still reeling.

Barbara glanced over to Jim in the passenger seat “You ready?”

Looking up, he gave a curt nod.

Forcing down the lump in her throat, she stepped out of the car, Jim following, and headed into the building. It was the same as it had been last September, right down to the sour faced receptionist directing them into a large conference room.

Everyone else was already there. A balding man with a bushy mustache that she knew to be principal Levit sitting at the table with a gray haired woman, presumably superintendent Kuhn, by his side. A laptop along with several stacks of papers on the table in front of them. Lawrence and a woman in a police officer’s uniform standing behind them. Sitting across from them was a blonde boy, arms folded and glaring out the window, and a blonde woman right next to him. Steve and his mother. Next to them were two empty chairs awaiting their arrival.

Their heads swivelled towards them at the sound of the door opening “Oh good you’re here,” Levit gestured towards the empty chairs “Please have a seat, we’re just about to get started,”

Barbara nodded in acknowledgement as she and Jim took their seats, Barbara next to Steve’s mother and Jim on her other side, the boys separated by the two women. Unsurprisingly, Jim’s numerous bruises and bandages drew stares from everyone in the room.

“So uh…..Jim,” Lawrence said slowly “You doing better?”

Jim flipped a few pages on his notebook and held it up.

Can’t talk jaw busted

The awkward atmosphere in the room intensified.

“Oh-- ummm….ok,”

For a few seconds they all sat in complete silence. Levit glanced from side to side at the four people in front of him and let out a husky sigh.

“Barbara Lake, Naomi Palchuk, glad to see you here, although I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,”

His gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them again, before he sucked in a deep breath and netted his fingers in front of him “Let’s get right to it. Yesterday after Mr. Lake spilled the contents of his backpack in the hallway Mr. Palchuk came over and began….teasing him,” Levit paused, seeming to struggle for the right words “In response Mr. Lake lashed out verbally, after which Mr. Palchuk lashed out physically. Do both of you agree that this summary of events is accurate?”

“Yes,” Barbara replied, that lined up with what Jim had told her.

“Yes, we do,” Naomi parroted.

Both of their sons stayed silent.

Levit glanced over to Kuhn, the two of them sharing an uncomfortable look, before Levit turned back to them “Are either of you aware of the existence of a video?”

Naomi’s eyes went huge “A video?”

“N-- no I’m not,” Barbara stammered out.

This was news to her, Jim hadn’t mentioned any kind of video.

Levit grimaced before opening his laptop “Yesterday evening it came to our attention that someone had taken a video recording of the incident and posted it online, where it’s already started circulating through the community,” after tapping at the keyboard a few times he turned the laptop towards them “ I would like to show this video to you in the interest of full disclosure, although if you don’t want to watch that is perfectly acceptable,”

“No,” Barbara said, forcing her voice to sound steadier than she felt “I want to see this,”

Grim faced, Naomi nodded along with her.

Mouth twisting in an effort to suppress a deep wince, Levit pressed play on the video. The footage was shaky and blurry, clearly done with a cell phone camera. It showed one of the school halls crowded with students, the occasional elbow or shoulder cutting into the view. Jim and Steve took up the majority of the screen, both of them looking quite hostile. Jim was getting up in his face and yelling, but between the loud hallway and the poor audio quality it was impossible to determine what he was saying. Then in a flash Steve swung up his fist and knocked Jim to the ground. Getting on top of him and punching him repeatedly in the face, teeth bared in a furious snarl. One of his punches landed with a sickening crack, blood spraying across the lockers. But Steve didn’t even slow down.

Barbara felt a hand fly over her mouth, from beside her she heard Naomi let out a gasp.

She couldn’t look away, the hole in her stomach getting deeper and deeper as she kept watching. Just looking at Jim’s injuries had given her a good idea of just how brutal the attack had been, but knowing didn’t prepare her for actually seeing it happening with her own two eyes.

Jim didn’t watch, silently staring down at the floor, although he had to have heard. Glancing over on impulse, Barbara saw that Steve was still staring out the window, jaw clenched and arms folded. But only now did she notice the bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

Steve had beaten Jim so viciously that he’d actually damaged his own hands.

On the screen Steve’s attack continued for about thirty seconds before a large blonde teacher swooped into frame and wrestled Steve off of Jim. Then the video cut abruptly and ended. Levit shut the laptop with a click “The school is still looking into who posted it and trying to get the video taken down, but you know how these things are once they get out there…”

Barbara did know. Once something was up on the internet it was out there forever. Now there was a video of her son being assaulted that was out there for all the world to see.

“Now Dr. Lake,” Kuhn sat up straighter and steepled her fingers “Typically we try to resolve these matters within the school, but given the severity of the situation I understand if you would want to press criminal charges,”

Her eyes briefly landed on the policewoman, who for her part remained impassive.

“If that is something you want to do you would have the school’s full cooperation. I only ask that you let us know what you decide to do as soon as possible,”

The room went silent, everyone watching Barbara with bated breath.

“I...I’m really not sure here,” Barbara said slowly “I would like to see what the school decides to do before I make my final decision,”

Levit nodded at her words “That seems fair. Jim, do you agree?”

Jim gave a quick nod in return.

“I’m sorry but given the circumstances we’re going to need an actual--”

A quick scribble of the sharpie and Jim was holding up another note.

I agree with everything my mom just said

Levit leaned back “Alright then, given that we all agree on how the events transpired, Lawrence and I--” the coach stepped up to his side “Would like to propose this course of action,”

He looked over and addressed Steve directly for the first time “Suspension for the rest of the school year, effective immediately, along with mandatory biweekly sessions with the school psychologist, starting this year and into the next,” Levit pulled a chunk of papers off the stack in front of him “Mr. Palchuk this means that you will not be allowed to attend class or any school activities until the start of the next school year in August. We will provide you with supplemental educational materials to keep up with your coursework for this semester and arrange for you to take your final exams at the district offices, in addition you will also start seeing the school psychologist there as well,”

Steve leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table and unintentionally putting the bandages on display “Ok...but I’ll still be able to play on the basketball team...right?”

Kuhn’s eyes narrowed “Sports teams are included under extracurricular activities, all of which you are not going to be allowed to attend,”

“B...but the finals are in two weeks!”

Lawrence stared down at him evenly “Then it looks like you’re going to miss them, you’ll have to try again next year,”

Steve’s face fell, he looked so sad and lost. And even though her own son was sitting next to her with a cracked jaw and broken nose; Barbara couldn’t help but feel a swell of pity for Steve.

He may have been the one who hurt Jim so badly he couldn’t see out of one eye, but he was just a child to. And what Jim had said to him….she couldn’t believe her own son was capable of being so cruel.

Her ribcage tightened.

No, with what Jim had just learned she absolutely believed he could.

Steve slammed a fist against the table, face flushed scarlet “But this isn’t fair!”

Barbara reflexively angled herself in front of Jim while Naomi placed two restraining hands on her own son. Jim didn’t react in the slightest, just kept hanging his head in silence.

“Steve please I know y--”

“But if he--” Steve stabbed an accusatory finger in Jim’s direction “Hadn’t pushed me! I never would have--”

“Banned,” Lawrence said stonily, folding his arms across his chest.

“W-- what?” Steve stammered out.

“Not only are you suspended for the rest of the year, but you won’t be coming back to the basketball team ever,” the chill in his voice was glacial “Not in two weeks, not next year, or any year after that,”

“But-- I-- you can’t--”

“That’s enough Palchuk!” Lawrence bellowed, causing everyone in the room except Jim to jump “Not only are you permanently barred from the basketball team, but if you put a single toe out of line, I’ll see you banned from every sports team in the district!”

“B-- buh--”

“And if you screw it up again,” Lawrence got up close, hands balled in fists at his sides, tone dropping dangerously low “Then we’ll start talking about real consequences,”

Steve sat there mouth gaping open and shut like a fish, shocked into silence.

“I’m going to give you a real hard truth Palchuk,” he stepped back and refolded his arms “In life there’s no trouble so deep that you can’t get yourself deeper. So if you don’t want this to get significantly worse than it already is. Stop. Digging.”

Steve sat back and shut his mouth. Face red.

Things were silent for a few beats before Naomi spoke up, voice brittle “Thank you, we find that punishment more than acceptable,”

Barbara gave a brusque nod “That sounds acceptable to me as well, I don’t think criminal charges need to be added on top of that,”

The school was taking this seriously. Besides, another investigation was the last thing she and Jim needed.

Naomi, Kuhn, and Levit all visibly relaxed at that, the principal glancing over towards Jim “Do you agree Jim?”

Once again he held up the note.

“And would you both agree to make official statements stating your decision to not press charges?” the policewoman spoke for the first time.

“Yes, we can do that today,”

Yes

“I believe that will be all for you Ms. Palchuk,” Levit handed her the papers in his hands “Here’s the formal statement of Steve’s suspension, with my contact information attached. We’ll email you a copy as well, along with the forms for the school psychologist. We’ll put together the educational material for Steve’s suspension and get it to you before the end of Spring break. And if you have any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to contact me directly,”

Naomi bobbed her head up and down while grabbing the papers, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before pulling Steve up and hustling him towards the door. It looked like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Not that Barbara could blame her.

After the door shut behind them Barbara let out a small sigh of her own and started to rise out of her seat. Finally they could cross this off their list and get back to--

“Actually Dr. Lake we’re not quite done here,”

She froze midway out of her chair, Jim perking his head up.

“I’m sorry?”

The look Levit and Kuhn shared with each other made her uneasy “Steve’s actions were reprehensible, regardless of what Jim said, but by the same note we can’t ignore what Jim said to him only because Steve lashed out inappropriately,”

Barbara numbly sank back into her seat, queasy feeling burning to life in her gut “So...what are you saying?”

Levit leaned forward “We would like to have Jim meet with our school psychologist twice a week for the rest of the school year, and possibly next year as well,”

The word mandatory hadn’t been said, but Barbara heard it loud and clear.

She swallowed hard “Ok,”

“Now if it’s alright there are a few things we’d like to discuss with Jim,” he paused “Alone,”

Her stomach gave another sickening lurch “But...he…”

Jim scribbled and held his notebook up towards her.

It’s ok I’ll be fine

She met his eyes, and even past the bruising and swelling she could read his desperate plea loud and clear.

We can’t afford to make this any worse.

“Al...alright then,”

“Now Dr. Lake if you don’t mind,” Levit gestured towards a door on his left “Please go wait in my office while we have our discussion with Jim,”

Barbara nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and got to her feet. Allowing herself one final glance at Jim before she stepped out the door.

These were teachers, professionals, they knew how to talk to sick and injured children. Jim would be just fine with them. There was no reason for her to wo--

Barbara stopped dead in her tracks, door slipping from her grip and swinging shut behind her. Dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Sitting at the desk in front of her was the one person she did not want to be involved right now.

“Hello Dr. Lake,” Dorrie said “I really wish we were meeting under better circumstances,”

Barbara couldn’t speak past the jagged block of ice in her throat.

Dorrie turned in her chair towards her “I’ll get straight to the point. Yesterday the school contacted me after Jim was attacked, and I had planned on reaching out to you yesterday evening, but then one of your coworkers contacted us and claimed that you left the hospital with Jim without being discharged,” she folded her hands in her lap “After hearing that I brought all three of us together yesterday afternoon to determine exactly how events unfolded,”

On the inside, past the screaming panic in her ears, Barbara was kicking herself. How could she have been so stupid. Of course the school was going to notify CPS when they had an open investigation on them. Of course her coworkers were going to follow protocol.

Of course these people were going to talk with each other.

Dorrie’s expression was stern “What you did yesterday shows a profound lack of judgement, and while it was good that you brought him back this morning, you never should have taken Jim away from the hospital the way you did in the first place. As a doctor you should know better,”

“I...I understand,” Barbara forced the words out “It won’t happen again,”

Dorrie was unmoved, and why wouldn’t she be? There was no excuse for what Barbara did. And if Barbara really regretted what she’d done then why did she do it in the first place?

“Right now you and I are going to have a discussion about the events of yesterday and what we are going to do going forward,” she pulled a three ring binder stuffed to the brim with papers out of her bag “And while at this point it is not necessary to consider extreme action, let me make it clear that you will no longer be Jim’s primary care provider,”

The cold pit of horror in her belly deepened even as Barbara nodded along in reluctant agreement, sinking into the chair across from Dorrie.

Reluctant because that was the last thing she wanted to be dealing with right now. Agreement because Barbara knew that she ultimately had no choice.

Last night when Jim had told her that his friends had been the ones who called CPS...she honestly didn’t know whether she was shocked or not.

They’d never given any indication that they’d thought something was wrong, and she’d known Toby since he was in kindergarten. It was hard to believe that he-- that they would go so far as to….

Her nails dug into the fabric of her skirt.

Then again, the kids weren’t in kindergarten anymore, and a teenager noticed a lot more than a five year old did.

At the end of the day Barbara just couldn’t blame them for bringing this trouble to their door. They’d seen a concerning situation with multiple red flags and taken the appropriate actions to help. They were all good, sweet kids who just wanted their friend to be safe.

And they weren’t the ones who’d snuck a badly injured, drugged patient out of the hospital without being discharged, or locked a young child in the basement for years. The reason you’re sitting here is because of you and no one else. And don’t you forget it.

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #barbara lake #jim lake jr #coach lawrence #steve palchuk #naomi palchuk #principal levit #original character(s)#rmvwrites #A Secret's Worth #sunshine au #tw violence #tw injury

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Note

I loved your recent drabble Dragged by the Ankle! Do we maybe get to see some of Villain's training in the woods? ~tears-and-lillies

Aw shucks! Thank you; glad you liked it! It was a little less training and a little more surviving ;) Very long, but I think it's appropriate to be so. Slight gore warning: animal attack, can see the bones, mention of blood, survival (in the woods) situation- whump of minors

Continuation of this

******

"I'm thirstyyyyyy," one boy complained as the group continued walking.

Villain wondered how long it'd been since they'd been outcasted. He recalled the way Hero's face changed; from worried and scared to...to stone cold, emotionless. He didn't think he'd ever forget that face, the face of indifference, as if Hero didn't even care about him anymore.

How could that happen? How could they have been so close, been so happy being brothers, all for Hero to just...abandon him? Walk him out in the woods with a group of other kids and say 'Fend for yourselves. And if you live through two weeks, you can come back'?

Villain couldn't understand why his older brother suddenly didn't care at all. He knew Villain wouldn't survive out here in the woods like this. He'd been housebound for several months, taking care of their deteriorating mother. Any muscle Villain once had was nearly gone. He wasn't skin and bones per say, but he couldn't wrestle a bear, that was for sure.

"Quiet, now. I'm going to teach you all something." It was an older boy, maybe sixteen, whereas Villain was fourteen. This boy had been a captain's son. Guess he wasn't living up to the Captain's standards. "Sh, sh. Listen, alright?"

The boys went silent. Most of them were under the age of ten. It was ridiculously unfair they had been sent to the woods. It was unfair that any of them had been, but who could send a child to fend for itself in the woods, somewhere far away from civilization, far away from help? 'Strength in numbers' Hero had said before setting them off. 'Stick together and more of you will live as opposed to if you split up'. A true soldier's lesson. These boys weren't soldiers though. They were just boys.

"You hear that flow of water?" A collective nod of heads. Villain stood nearby, but also a little separated from the group, leaning against a tree. "Which direction do you think we need to walk to find the water?"

One kid began humming in question, but the eldest put a finger to his lips, whispering again, "Listen. You have to be quiet in order to listen."

Another boy raised a hand.

"Not yet. Let the others think of an answer themselves." The oldest hummed himself, and the boy from before nearly corrected him before the former finished, "When everyone has thought of an answer, put a thumb up, alright? Then we'll all point where we think."

***

"You're really good with them," Villain said. "The younger boys."

The sixteen year old shrugged. "Thanks, I guess." He gave a small laugh. "I'm not used to interacting with them in that way. I guess it's just the way I always wanted to be treated."

"In any way, you're good at it."

He nodded, muttered another small 'Thanks'.

***

They were on their fourth day. Villain considered the sixteen year old a friend. He was closer to his own age than anyone else. He was kind and he was a good leader. Villain aspired to be him in some fashion. Not entirely, because Villain liked his own identity, but he wished he was stronger, more capable like Friend.

It was night now, and Villain couldn't sleep as everyone else did. He kept thinking about Hero, about how much he missed his older brother.

They had always been so close. When Father returned home, Hero would always take Villain out to the cliff edge. There, they would forget about the day's stress and aggravations. Sometimes they'd throw what little sand they could find at one another. Villain smiled at this memory, smiled at remembering the way they laughed together and the way, when he began to tire, Hero would lie down and Villain used him as a pillow. They'd watch the sun set over the waters then walk home.

There was a groan, and Villain looked over at the group of boys with raised brows. Friend sat up and Villain nodded, having figured out who it was.

Friend stretched before asking, "Have you slept at all?"

Villain shook his head. "Restless mind, restless body."

"You haven't been sleeping very much. It's going to catch up with you." He stood, stretched, and walked over to Villain before slinking beside him against the trunk of a tree. "What would help you sleep, huh?"

Villain shrugged at Friend. "Nothing that can actually happen."

"What is it?"

"I want my brother to be here with me."

Friend hummed. He did that a lot. "I could be your brother. Wouldn't be quite the same, I know, but if you think it would help..."

Villain huffed. "Don't force a relationship on my behalf. I'll get over it."

"You're angry," Friend observed aloud. "Your brother let them take you away, didn't they?"

Now Villain laughed. It was an ironic laugh, one that presented his anger further. Really, he didn't know he was angry until Friend said it. But it was true. He was angry with Hero, not just saddened by him. "My brother is the one who led us out here."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

***

Several more days passed and Villain was struggling. His thirst was quenched; the boys traveled upstream, always having water on hand as long as they could make a fire, and they could. The lands were dry, though not so dry as to start a forest fire. A general campfire was easy. It was the hunger, though, that dug at Villain.

There were seven boys in the group, including Villain and Friend, and it was only those two that were successful in capturing rabbits, squirrels, and fish, but it happened so seldom that Villain hadn't even had anything to eat. He gave it all to the younger children. Friend did the same, except he had one fish for himself, in the middle of the night once, to maintain his strength.

***

Another day. Another night.

The boys were walking, all of them a bit tired from the journey, but persevering nonetheless. They were going to settle in a bend of the river, a 'comfy spot' the younglings said. Villain knew it was because it reminded them of the hugs they missed from their mothers.

Friend held a hand up, shushing the group. There was a howl somewhere in the distance, but if they could hear it, it meant it was too close. They'd never had to fight a predator before, even after a full week.

"Wolves," Friend said. "They don't travel alone; they travel in packs, like us." Villain liked this comparison. They weren't boys, were they? They were all wolves, too. But which pack was stronger?

The boys scrambled about, crying with worry of death. Friend did his best to calm them down, but ultimately it was Villain who succeeded in doing so.

"You don't want to be wolves, do you?"

Some still crying, the majority shook their heads. Others just listened.

"Did you ever hear about these creatures called monkeys?" They nodded. "They don't live around here, but we can make them exist. You want to?" Again, they nodded. "Good," Villain smiled. "Good. Monkeys climb in trees, alright? So that's what we have to do."

One boy, the youngest, asked, "What noise do they make?" He was one of the few who hadn't been crying. He seemed to not understand what was going on around him. He played with a twig in his chubby hands.

"Noise? Oh no. They don't make any sounds. That's a myth."

The boy squinted, but accepted it.

More howls sounded. They were getting closer. Villain looked to Friend. He felt very terrified all of a sudden.

Friend said, "Up you go, in the trees." The boys began jumping for branches, but weren't able to reach. Before helping them, Friend said to Villain, "Genius thinking, brother." He clapped Villain on the back before helping the smallest up a tree first.

That hollowness Villain felt as his fear increased settled just the tiniest bit. He smiled at Friend. Not a forced relationship, after all. They were brothers and they would continue to be after this second week was over.

Villain moved to help some of the others as well. They'd nearly all gotten up, except for the middle child in the group of five younglings. And, of course, Villain and Friend were left as well.

Helping the last up, Villain heard a low rumble. At first he thought it came from his stomach, but then the rolling continued, and a quick snarl made itself heard. Slowly, he turned his head, and as he did so, his eyes stung. There, between the trees crouched a beast of grey and brown fur. Villain froze. He wasn't even sure that he was breathing. Could he breathe? Would it trigger a fight response in the wolf?

Friend, having already finished with his group of kids, tiptoed as slowly as he could manage to Villain. He whispered, and it made the pit in Villain's stomach double in size and despair, "Get him up there, slowly, quietly. No sudden movements, you hear me?"

Villain said nothing, but began to nerve strikingly push the child up through the air. The wolf howled and Villain's shoulders and arms tightened. He felt tears building up in his eyes before they slid down his cheeks. He didn't bother wiping them away, afraid- again- that the action would cause the wolf to attack. I don't want to die. Please don't let me die.

Another howl. The wolf was calling the rest of the pack, telling them that it found food. A shudder traveled through Villain and he flinched. I thought wolves stuck together at all times.

"Go up the tree, Villain. You're going to be okay. We'll get out of this."

Villain's watched the wolf's ear twitch as it heard. It began taking slow, cautious, and predatory steps closer to them. Every time Friend spoke, it would approach faster. Their voices were a taunt to the beast.

Nodding, Villain reached up, grasping a thick branch before pulling himself up, but he wasn't strong enough. His body jerked down as his arms gave. The wolf let out a startling bark, pounced forward a bit.

"Shit," Friend spat out, grabbing Villain under each arm. "Grab it," he said, panicked. "Grab the branch!" Villain did as he was instructed, and this time Friend helped push him up.

Several howls followed Villain as he climbed up. He spotted the boy he helped up as he tried looking for whatever wolves were approaching. He'd forgotten it wasn't just him and Friend who were facing death.

Villain looked down just as the first wolf lunged at Friend. "No!" Thankfully, Friend had rolled out of the way before the wolf's teeth could sink in.

"Come on! I'll pull you up! I'll pull you-" Friend's hands grasped one of Villain's while the other held the branch he jumped up to grab. Not in time, though. The wolf clenched its jaws on Friend's calf, yanking him with one vicious pull to the ground.

"Friend!" Villain could hear the grunts, the hollers, the snarls, and the rips. Villain couldn't watch. He couldn't watch. There was blood and- and no. No, that's not a bone. Friend screamed again and again, sometimes at the wolf, sometimes at Villain.

"Stay in-" Scream. Punch. Thrash. "Stay in the trees!"

Don't die. Don't die. Don't die, don't die,don't die-don'tdiedon'tdie. Please don't die. Villain couldn't handle both of his brothers disappearing from his life. And not like this. Not like this.

A massive wave of fury struck Villain in the next moment. If it weren't for Hero- he let out a holler of frustration. If it weren't for Hero, he wouldn't be in these woods. Friend wouldn't be in these woods. None of these kids would be in the woods, hiding in trees to avoid being eaten by wolves. Villain was willing to bet Hero had never seen a wolf before, much less fought one.

The screams stopped. Villain screamed, cried, punched the branch he sat on with both fists until they felt swollen and bruised. And then he fell asleep, exhausted, and not willing to think of the horror he just witnessed.

***

The boys slept in the trees. The wolves left. After Villain had fallen asleep, the other wolves arrived, scratching at the trees, whimpering that they couldn't reach the delectable bags of flesh and meat stowed away, hidden behind leaves.

When Villain woke, he saw two piles of clothing, each stained with blood, both containing hard and thin objects called bones. Two piles- so one of the children had fallen prey, too.

Villain threw up in the stream over and over, pouring himself out, tears and stomach acid alike. "I can't do this," he gasped. "I can't do this."

But he could. And he would. Because Hero needed to pay, and Villain would be the one to collect.

******

Part 3 here

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

End of Days

It was growing colder. Snowdin was unlivable now, the weather was no longer a snowstorm, but simply frozen and dark. There were parts of Waterfall that still had water, but it was all still, the falls no longer cascaded from above, having dried up or frozen solid in ice. Closer the chill crept. It had long since taken Home and New Home, Waterfall and the Depths below the Lower City on the Cliffs, and the Snowdin Caverns had been the very first place to fall. Hotland alone was still warm. But the magma had cooled and solidified on the surface of their burning lakes, leaving only what lay deep beneath. It was there the Monsters huddled. The Fire-Monsters at their center, those most susceptible to the cold. The darkness was oppressive, and only the light of these monsters, and their tiny heat, was keeping everything at bay. Keeping the darkness from falling. They’d searched for Sans and for Gaster, but there was no sign of them, they were gone. They searched every journal and book and file they could find in hopes of finding anything that could call the Ship back or open another Rift to the Void, but they found nothing that would help them. A day went by, exactly as it always had. And then another. And another after that. But the days were numbered. Three weeks before a Reset. And the first had been nearly over. Sixteen days. Sixteen days was all they had left. Fifteen days. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Asgore spoke to the crowd outside the castle in New Home, telling them of the strange pall of darkness that always fell if they waited too long after the three weeks to Reset. No stars, no water, not even the garbage that fell endlessly from the falls, piling up into the Dump. It all just... stopped. And from what he could tell, the outside was cold. If one stood near the barrier, just as the time limit ran out on Tripplenight, when everyone was celebrating and holding feasts and parties, one could see glittering frost coating the rock outside, lit only by the barrier’s light. Eleven days. Toriel suggested a night to spend reading and playing and telling jokes. Everyone came. But they couldn’t bring themselves to tell any jokes, or read anything, or play. The Queen tried to read some old Monster Tales to them, but she could hardly get through the story where the Destined Heroes of Light fall into a Kingdom of Darkness and meet a lonely Prince of the Dark. And when she reached the part where the Hero tore out his very soul in despair and rage, she broke off, unable to continue. Ten Days. Nine days. Eight Days. The Core was unfixable. Alphys had everything she could ask for, the willing help of any Monster she could possibly turn to. But the explosion that resulted from its meltdown had been so hot that it melted much of the machinery and blasted other sections to fragments of metal. She was unable even to figure out why it had reacted so violently in the first place. It had been maintained until the last moment, when the engineers had headed out to evacuate. It should have been fine. What did it matter? Should have been, would have been, could have been. They couldn’t fix it, so how it got destroyed didn’t matter. Seven Days. Six Days. Five Days. Tempers running high, Undyne destroyed her own house, leaving it flaming and stuck with spears. She said she couldn’t stand being alone there. She and Alphys have taken to wandering Waterfall, speaking in low tones and sharing kisses in the soft blue light of the waters and echo flowers. Four Days. Snowdrake, Lesser Dog, and Heats Flamesman had a breakdown. Asgore found them at the Barrier in New Home, beating on the magical wall with their firsts, bodies, wings, and claws. They screamed and screamed, calling out for someone to hear them. For someone to come. They didn’t want to go with Asgore, didn’t want to go. They wanted to someone to come. Anyone. Just let them out. But nobody came. Three days. Gerson had woken a little during the evacuations, sensing that something had changed. In the terror of the moment he’d woken all the way. Now he was sinking back into despair, becoming harder and harder to speak to, to wake, to communicate with at all. Two days. Monsters want to know what will happen to them. Want to know if help is coming. If someone is coming. If they can call someone to come save them. The ship, Sans, Gaster, anyone. No one can answer their questions. Asgore and Toriel look grim, and Alphys is pale. Never had any seen Undyne cry, tears running silently down her face, her expression never wavering, her stoic stance as strong as ever. Only Gerson could really remember the last time he’d seen tears from her, and that had been when she was very small. One day. Dread. The waiting is the worst thing. Knowing you cannot prevent what is coming, and you are afraid. Mettaton had tried desperately to bring some last bit of laughter to them, but the robotic body is running out of power, and without being able to charge, since the Core was the source of the Underground’s power, they had to shut down to preserve power. Only the sad ghost was left behind, and it seemed that all the others had gone, managing to get aboard the ship. The stars are gone. The light is gone. The warmth is gone. And only the darkness remains. The darkness and the cold. Still they pushed on, refusing to give in so easily, though many were close to Falling Down. Water was stored from the river until it froze over, there was no sign of the River Person or their ferry, the Monster must have escaped into the Ship on time, though nobody could recall having seen them waiting in line, or ever having left their ferry for that matter. Days went by, at least they were almost certain it was days and not weeks or hours. The only change was that the darkness got deeper and deeper, and the cold grew and spread. When Waterfall froze over completely the light from the Echo Flowers faded, their last whispers nearly one with the silence, unheard by any living being. “But nobody came.” ... ... ... It was the End. They could hardly keep the Fire-Monsters alive, burning themselves as they pressed closer and closer together around them, staying warm and keeping in the warmth as much as they could. Any food they had left had run out, monster food, human food, it was all gone. Even the water in their storage containers was in danger of freezing over. The Underground was silent. Waiting. “It was...” said Asgore, hesitating, his voice quiet and his expression unbearably sad. “It was so nice knowing all of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from this fate. I failed.” Toriel embraced him, and the sight stirred what little of the light and love that was still in the hearts of the Monsters who watched them. “No! No! You have not failed!” they cried. “You did everything you could. You did more than we could have ever asked!” Mettaton turned his body back on, to use the remaining few hours of power as best he could, rushing to and fro, finding wood from houses and fences that could be burned. Seeking out forgotten bits of food that could be shared. Each moment was borrowed, but it was another moment. Crystal, Snowdrake’s mother, was snuggled up to her husband. Toriel had asked if she was alright, but the kindly monster had said that her Snowy had made it aboard just in time, pulled up by Papyrus himself in the last few moments. As long as he was safe and away from here, then she could be happy even in the face of death. As the last of their lights flickered out, leaving only the fire-monsters to light the caverns, Crystal turned to the monster she’d lived in the same town as for years and years. “Grillby,” she called out. He looked at her, waiting. The bar owner had never been much for speaking. “Do you remember when we were in year seven of secondary school? When old Maggie insisted that everyone in her classroom had to try out for Choir in order to get a grade?” Grillby nodded, looking slightly annoyed by the memory. Old Maggie hadn’t been the best at teaching, and while everyone had cared for her, they were all very relieved when she had finally retired. “I remember you didn’t want to, because you didn’t want to sing. But she made you and you got upon on the stage and looked so frightened. Nobody had ever even heard you talk before, so we didn’t know if you could sing or not. But when you did...” she paused, a light smile on her face as she remembered. “You sang like the Angel themselves. Couldn’t you sing like that again for us now? As a favor to an old friend?” A smile flickered upon Grillby’s face, hidden deep among the flames, and he nodded indulgently. Silence fell over the monsters as he stood tall and prepared himself. Only a very few had ever heard him speak at all, and when he did it was brief and to the point. What could his voice be like? The first words startled them. In a voice that rose in volume and soared through the dark empty caverns like a light he sang the first words of a familiar song. “Ebbot’s Angel hear our prayer. Are you out there somewhere? Often we have called your name, but then nobody came.” The song itself was a grim one, with all the sorrow of those first years of being trapped Underground woven into the lyrics and tune. But it was a song that everyone knew. From youngest to oldest, each Monster learned it while they were still small. Taught by parents, friends, siblings. It was a song of games played in the snow and on sidewalks, it was a song whistled by old Gerson whenever he was doing spring cleaning in his shop, it was the song Undyne had first learned to play on the piano, it was the song of the music box for the Waterfall puzzle she’d made and left near the old memorial statue, it was the song with a million covers on the Undernet by a thousand aspiring musicians who started out with a song they were most comfortable singing, it was a song that Asgore had hummed while gardening, and Toriel had sung wordlessly while baking. One by one they joined him in singing, each voice adding something indefinable yet vital to their choir. Those Monsters who could not speak simply hummed the tune, and those who could not even do that made noises in accompaniment to the tune as best they could. It was called “The Angel’s Prayer” by many, or “His Theme” by those who remember it being played by a little Music Box at the baby Prince’s first introduction to the Kingdom. He’d been upset to be at the center of so much attention and had even cried before the Captain of the Guard, old Gerson himself, had presented him with a tiny music box he’d made that played the tune. Asriel had been enchanted; cooing and gurgling happy at the music as he tried to reach for the box. But the song’s true name was written down in the oldest books, on nearly faded music sheets, and in the Histories of the Underground. It had been named “Memory”. “On the slopes we fought our war; lost all we’d known before. Humans, Monsters; who to blame? The end is all the same.” A light blossomed in the distance, over the massive stalagmites that made the border between Hotland and Waterfall. A blue light, very faint, but undeniably there. Echo Flowers. The Echo Flowers were singing with them, echoing their song so that it reverberated off the walls of the cavern and back to them again and again. “Long ago we walked with you, ‘Neath stars of many hues. You promised us you would return, and for that day we yearn.” And softly another melody was weaving its way into their song, even as Grillby sang out high, another voice was singing along with him, wordless, and a different song, but it harmonized so easily that they almost didn’t notice its presence at all. When she recognized it for what it was, Toriel stopped singing, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. She knew this tune as well. In fact, she had written it. Years and years ago for her children. For Asriel of course, but also for Chara. “Once Upon a Time”, that was its name, because she had written it as a lullaby to use after telling them a bedtime story. But where was a it coming from? She looked around, trying to see its source in the darkness. “Soon the darkness will draw near, and all light disappear. Is that when you’ll come once more? Just like you did before?” They all stopped singing as another light appeared from the shadows, and though they stopped short, the song continued without them. With their own voices the Echo Flowers continued on, repeating endlessly the grim words with a hopeful melody. And the light before them was from a Door. It stood alone in the dark, tethered to nothing at all. On either side rose stone pillars, and above the door mantel was carved the Deltarune. It looked very much like the doors found the palaces of New Home and Home. Very old gateways and posterns meant for special people to pass through, such as the Royal Family or any humans who fell down from above. Yet unlike the purplish stone of Home or the pale white marble of New Home, this was dark and nearly black. How they could see it at all was a mystery, yet it seemed to give off a strange light. And as the Echo Flowers reached the last verse, the Deltarune above the door began to glow. The song Toriel had heard, it was coming from there, from beyond the door. And everything in her longed to go and see what lay there, on the other side. To see who was waiting for her. Perhaps Frisk, or maybe even Chara. And she could wait for the others too, and for Asriel. Oh, he liked to be called Realis now, didn’t he? A soft sigh seemed to come from the door as it creaked slightly open, a fine white mist piling up from behind it until it spilled over into a drifting wave towards them. Like a breath of fresh air. That’s what it felt like. Sunshine warming you after you’ve been inside all day long, and the splash of streams and song of birds. Perhaps its too late for it here, but somehow, somewhere, it is a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming. The perfect weather for a game of catch. ... ... There is a prophecy. The Angel... The One Who Has Seen The Surface... They will return. And the underground will go empty. Only a pale white Void is left behind, like a page in a book that has not yet been written in, or a blank canvas that has not yet been touched with paint, and that too will fade to nothingness. Emptiness remains, no one is left here, except... “YIP!!!” A little white dog barks excitedly. It has several possessions it has considered bringing with it. A sock it liberated recently from its longtime home of the floor, several bone based special attacks that were absolutely delicious, a brick-like cell phone that it used to make wonderful music sometimes, a real live actual bomb, and a salad. But it left its bag at home when the world ended and now it has no choice but to go on without it. Oh well. It barks at the door, which opens slightly, and then rushes through. With a sharp click the door closes. And there is nothing more.

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whattimeisitintokyo · 3 years

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Somos Familia Ch 46: A Tale of Woe

Ch 46: A Tale of Woe

Pacing outside of the shack she just exited, Leti bit the end of her thumb and whined a little. This did not go according to what she had planned. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion. How often had Nieve said how she wished she could see her son at least once to tell him that she was sorry, to let him hear her side of the story? She was supposed to cry in happiness and embrace Papa like she never got to in life, and he would return it in kind. A mother and son reunited after over fifty years.

It should have been a happy occasion. It shouldn’t have ended up with Nieve being furious at her and Papa looking like he was going to throw up.

“I made the right decision, sí?” she asked the two animals sitting outside with her. “I mean come on. This is the kind of situation that would make for a good story. Haven’t these two always wanted to meet each other?”

Dante yipped in what seemed to be approval of Leti’s question, while she could have sworn she saw Frangipanni’s eyes dart slightly to the side.

“What? You don’t think this was a good idea?”

Frangipani just looked at her with what Leti swore was a wince, and let out a puff of air from her trunk.

“Well why didn’t you tell me before?!” Leti moaned. “Some spirit guide you are…” Easily dodging Frangipani’s attempt to splash water at her, Leti fought to put a confident grin on her face. “Well no matter! It’s been over fifty years since she’s seen him, and no doubt Papa would have tons of questions for her. I’m sure they have loads to talk about!”

-----------------------

…..

“I like your jacket.”

Jumping slightly after the break of near dead silence, Héctor looked down at his jacket and picked at the purple sleeve. “Oh, gracias. It’s Balenciaga.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s a fashion designer. From… Spain…”

“Oh.”

…..

This was excruciating. They both knew that this couldn’t go on forever, let alone for the next few minutes. Héctor was obviously running out of time, the slow disappearance of his skin a clear indicator. But for some reason Héctor couldn’t leave his seat. He just kept looking at this girl, trying to take in every curve of bone and every twitch of facial features. Trying to burn them into his memory. Several times he tried to say something, his throat constricting every time, until Nieve broke the silence once more.

“Look, we don’t have a lot of time.” she said. “And I know you must have questions.”

“Not really, no.”

His answer surprised them both, and Héctor knew that it was a big fat lie. Maybe it was because he was on a tight schedule and didn’t have time to ask her his many questions, or maybe he was too afraid to know the answers. But seeing her face crumple a little at what he said, and feeling a small bit of satisfaction at causing it, Héctor could conclude he was just being petty. Letting his long-buried feelings of hurt and anger from his childhood come back up, he wanted her to feel even a little bit of the pain he had felt.

“No?” Nieve asked in confusion.

“Fine then, just one.” Héctor relented. “Are you really my mother?”

“…Sí.”

It was confirmed. Héctor felt his belly drop and he sucked in a quick breath of air before pursing his lips and nodding. Okay, that was all he needed to know. He could just leave and never see this girl again.

Girl…

“How old were you when you had me?” Héctor asked. “You look so young.”

Nieve winced and lowered her eyes. “I was fourteen.”

Perfect, just perfect. He was the product of a teenage love affair. But his quick flash of disgust was quickly subdued when he remembered he was not that much older when he and Imelda had Coco. He had no right to be offended by that, especially since he assumed she was unwed at the time she had him.

Still, she seemed so young.

“And… how old were you when you died?” He had to ask, fearing the answer.

“Fourteen.”

Ay, Dios.

“Wh-what?” Héctor choked out, suddenly horror-stricken. “You mean? Are you saying that I-… That it’s my fault you-”

“No no!” Nieve reached out to touch him before stopping herself and drawing her hands back. Still she dared to venture a step closer to him. “No, I didn’t die in childbirth. It was hard on me, but all ten pounds of you made it out in the end.”

“Hah, good.” Héctor sighed in relief and sagged back onto the crate. “I was worried that-wait, ten pounds?!”

Nieve nodded and for the first time her bony lips turned upward into small grin. “You were a very fat baby. The nuns said that meant you were healthy.”

Laying a hand against his flat stomach, Héctor shook his head in disbelief. “Well I can assure you that the fatness didn’t last long.”

Nieve’s smile faded, sorrow finding its way back. “Yes, I’m sure there were many nights where you went hungry. Didn’t you?”

There were. More than Héctor would have liked to admit. The nuns were kind and Padre Mateo did all he could to make sure that the children under his care were well looked after, but Santa Cecilia used to be a poor town and food was lean then. Many a night Héctor found himself curled into a ball with a fist driving itself into his cramping stomach, trying not to cry through his hunger pangs. Even now it was difficult for him to gain weight, no matter how much food was available to him. It had made a lasting effect on him.

As Héctor stayed silent Nieve studied him some more and hummed in approval. “You look like me.”

“I do?”

Nieve nodded. “Of course my facial features look better on you as a man, not so much on a young girl. I always felt I was too homely to turn the boys’ heads… until I met your father.”

“…What?”

“You look nothing like him, by the way. Well, you have his height and a full head of thick hair. All the men in my family were short and bald.”

“Wait, you… know who my father was?” Héctor asked, not sure how many more surprises he could handle tonight.

This time it was Nieve’s turn to look a little angry, crossing her arms across her chest and tsking. “Really now, I’m not some common street walker. There was one man in my life and one only.”

Héctor mumbled out an awkward apology and had the decency to look ashamed of his unintentional rudeness. Looking around he had to ask. “… Is my father… dead as well? I mean, is he here?”

With a disgusted shake of her head and a sneer, she said, “No, that cabrón is still alive. Only the good die young, they say. He should be about… sixty-seven right now.”

“I see… So he was young too.” Héctor concluded after doing the math in his head, relieved that his father wasn’t some viejo who had taken advantage of a young girl.

There was a pause, Nieve processing what Héctor had just said, her face thawing into something more wistful but still hurt. “Sí… He was sixteen, considered a man by society but… Dom was still in his boyhood in so many ways. He was so regal and charming, but he was also silly. I can’t count the number of times he made me laugh with his antics. And so handsome, he could have any girl he could have wanted. I still don’t know why he chose me.”

Héctor found himself listening intently as Nieve described the beginnings of his parents relationship, hungry for the information. It was only natural, being an orphan, that he would want some inkling of what his family was like.

“He didn’t live where I did in Guerrero, he was sent to stay with his tío to learn more about the silver mine business and was set to leave for home in the summer. I met him at a New Year’s Eve party at his tío’s mansion where my parents had sent me to work at as a waitress. I don’t know why he came over to talk to me, but we really hit it off. He didn’t seem to care that I was a poor, he just liked me for who I was. And eventually… we fell in love.”

“We spent an incredible two months together until the wait staff found us one day mid kiss, and of course they informed his tío about us. Needless to say his visit was cut short and he was sent back to Santa Cecilia while I went back to my parents in shame. It was during that time while I was dealing with losing the love of my life and my parents’ coldness and harsh punishments… that I realized that I was pregnant.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Héctor didn’t know how to feel about that. He sensed that this was where the story was about to take a dark turn, and that he was the catalyst.

“My parents kicked me out, naturally. My brothers and my sister wanted nothing to do with me, neither did my extended family. I was alone in the world, but there was one shining light at the end of the tunnel: To head to Santa Cecilia to be with your father.”

“It took months to earn enough money to cross the state line to get to Oaxaca, and even more to get to Santa Cecilia. By then you had grown so much, so it was that much harder to make the distance. But in the end I did it! I made it to Santa Cecilia, found out where Dom lived, and walked straight to his house. I was so happy to see him, and he… just…”

Héctor watched as Nieve let the sentence die off, almost looking choked up and about to cry. But there was also simmering anger in her expression as well. He could easily guess what happened way back when, and if she couldn’t say it out loud then he would for her. “He rejected you.”

“…He did…”

“But I don’t understand?” Héctor said. “I thought you said he loved you. Why would he-?”

“’Because I am the son of a family descended from the richest houses in Europe, and you are a filthy peasant that came from savages and slaves.’” Nieve spat acidly, like the words had been burned into her mind and left to rot for decades. “He called me a whore, told me to never come to his house again, and slammed the door on me. Oh, after asking his servants to gently escort me off the grounds. My arms were bruised for weeks.”

Héctor grit his teeth. “Bastardo… What happened then?”

“I was alone in a town I was a stranger in, but luckily the nuns took me in and helped me get settled in the church. At least until you were born I had a roof over my head.”

Héctor nodded with a small smile. The nuns at his church were stern, for sure, but they were always kind to him. But a thought still bothered him. “So you never tried to pursue my f-… Dom… again?”

Nieve laughed bitterly. “Of course I did. Several times. Never at his home, though. Ever since my arrival it was guarded like a fortress. He dismissed me very time until the last time. Then he got physical. He grabbed me by the arm tightly, so hard it hurt, and shouted at me to never bother him again, or I would soon learn that no one messes with the Cavalleros.”

….

“WHAT?!”

Héctor’s outburst startled Nieve into such a state that she automatically moved into a defensive position, looking like she was ready to karate chop the air. “What?! What’d I do?!”

Héctor started to pace the room frantically, wildly gesturing as he went. “The Cavelleros?!” he shouted. “I’m related to the wealthiest family in-Oh no, my family is the wealthiest now… But the former wealthiest family in Santa Cecilia?! In Oaxaca?! I mean they’re not wealthy anymore, just today I got a business request from Ignacio and his father Dom…in…go…”

The fire that had lit underneath him sputtered out until there was nothing left. Shakily he sat back down onto the crate, feeling like he was going to be sick. Domingo Cavellero, the man who had never once talked to him but had often sneered at him if they came across each other in the plaza when he was just a small boy. Who forbade any of his children to listen to him play music with the rest of the crowd. The man who had actually bought his shoes from Rivera Zapatos, though always through a servant instead of in person.

“Domingo Cavellero… is my father…”

“A father is someone who loves their children and raises them, that cabrón did neither. Just forget him.” Nieve said. “At least one of us has to.”

Héctor had to agree to that. Domingo never did anything for him, it was best to just pretend like he was just another citizen in Santa Cecilia. But then he thought back to what Leti and her had discussed before he entered the room, and things didn’t make sense. “You have an ofrenda. One that you refuse to go to… Is it his?”

“… It is.”

“Why would he have an ofrenda for you if he rejected you?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. He told me to never return to him, and I am content to do just that.”

Héctor could tell that she was not content at all, far from it, but Héctor was not about to argue with a teenage girl. Wait no, his mother. Damn, this was all so confusing. And some aspects were still not synching up.

“Wait a minute.” he said, “I thought I was abandoned on the church steps. Padre Mateo and the nuns never told me that you were there with them until I was born.”

Nieve’s eyes lost their fire quickly at that, almost looking deadened, and she quickly turned back to the window. Looking out into the fog, she stayed silent for a few moments to the point where Héctor felt like he had to ask what had happened. Then she spoke again, quietly, “I assume they thought it was best you didn’t know about me.”

“Why?”

“…Because the cause of my death was not… condoned by the church.”

Héctor was confused for about a second before the meaning of her words set in. With a quick intake of air he stared at her, heartbroken and a little angry. “Did you… kill yourself?”

Nieve kept looking out the window, trying not to meet Héctor’s gaze, and sighed. “You were such a beautiful baby; I’ll never forget the way you looked at me when you first opened your eyes. I could tell, even then, that you were going to be what your father wasn’t: A good person to his very core. There was only one obstacle, I thought, that was standing in your way of happiness. That was me.”

“I was so confused, so heartbroken, my brain was going crazy at the time. For weeks I tried to care for you, but every time you cried I felt more and more like a failure as a mother. There were times I would just stare at you as you cried, couldn’t make myself to move and reach for you for comfort. Sometimes I wanted to just shut you up for good, and those times scared me the most. It was when that darkness kept overtaking me that I made the decision to stop it before something terrible happened.”

“But something terrible did happen.” Héctor said, his throat constricting painfully. “You killed yourself.”

Nieve slowly nodded, still looking away. “I gave you one final kiss and left you in the care of the nuns. They had no idea what I was about to do until days later when my body, otherwise they would have tried to stop me... I walked down to the creek in the middle of the night, waded in, and let it sweep me away. December 31st, 1900. Exactly one year after I had met your father… I thought I was being very poetic, as most stupid little girls do.”

Héctor sniffled and scrubbed his face with a boney hand, tears blurring his vision. When Nieve finally looked back at him she was saddened to see them fall down his cheeks, but still she dared not touch him. “I’m sorry Héctor, but I thought I had lost everything. I felt I had no other choice.”

“You didn’t lose everything!” Héctor snapped, wiping the tears away. “You had me. All my life I wanted to know who my parents were and why they left me. And now that I do know I feel cheated! I could have!...” trailing off he pursed his lips tight, looking up at his mother with watery eyes. “I would have been a good son.”

That was it.

Without a seconds hesitation Nieve crossed the threshold and pulled Héctor into a fierce hug, pulling him close to her and knocking off her straw hat at the same time. It didn’t seem like it would be compatible for a teenage girl and a grown man to hug, but they fit perfectly together. Even though he had grown, and she remained the same, Héctor was still able fit into his mother’s hold. Hesitantly he put his hands on her back, eyes wide, before he too melted into the embrace. An embrace fifty years in the making.

“I know you would have been a good son.” Nieve whimpered into his ear. “You would have been the sweetest boy from the stories Leti has told me… And that is part of my punishment, knowing that.”

“Punishment?” Héctor mumbled.

Nieve nodded. “When I took my life I didn’t care about what happened next. All I wanted was for the pain to stop. But it didn’t stop, it stayed and grew. Only difference now is that I’m in this gaudy, technicolor party town where everyone celebrates their death and does whatever they want that they couldn’t do in death. While I had something so precious in my life that I couldn’t see through my pain. Now I’m just an old woman, living in isolation in the slums while pining for something that I threw away.”

Pulling back, Nieve cupped Héctor’s cheek lovingly and smiled. “You deserved so much better, Héctor.”

“So did you.” Héctor said. “I’m sorry your life turned out so bad in the end.”

Nieve shook her head. “It could have been prevented. I knew something was screwing with my head and I just let it fester. I should have just asked for counsel with Padre Mateo or the nuns, or maybe gone to the doctor or an institution. Maybe then I would have been a better mother for you, if I had just… asked someone to help me, I guess.”

Héctor felt something in his chest drop at what Nieve had said. That seemed… familiar. Staring off a ways, thinking about earlier conversations he’d rather be forgotten, he barely mumbled, “Yeah, maybe…”

Smiling tightly, Nieve pulled her hand away from him. “Are you all right?”

Sighing a deep, cleansing breath Héctor nodded. “I think so. I just don’t think my heart can take any more surprises tonight… But I do have one more question.”

Bracing herself to what it might be, Nieve wrung her hands. “Okay…”

“Why did you name me Héctor? Is it a family name or something? I just got teased a lot as a child.”

Sighing in relief Nieve nodded. “In a way. I named you after my pet pig Héctor.”

“… What?”

She nodded fondly, “He was a very good pig, so pink and squishy. Until he got too big, and we had to eat him. That’s probably why he didn’t turn up as my alebrije.”

“You named me after a pig?!”

“I was fourteen years old! Of course I would name you after something I loved! And need I remind you that you were a fat baby!”

Crossing his arms in a huff, Héctor seethed while Nieve continued. “I had a lot of good memories with that pig, thank you very much. Riding on his back, rolling in the mud, eating fruit and chapulines. They were good times.”

His pout fading away, Héctor looked back up at her. “Did you say chapulines?”

Nieve nodded, smiling again. “Sí, they’re my favorite dish. Dios, I must have eaten my entire body weight in chapulines while I was pregnant with you. Why?”

His lips quirking up, Héctor shook his head in wonderment. “No reason.”

Again there was a long stretch of silence between the two of them, but it wasn’t awkward or painful anymore. They just stared at each other, smiling in contentment and newfound affection, before Nieve finally sighed.

“You need to go. Get that curse removed.”

“Yeah… I do.” Héctor said, a part of him aching to stay with her and learn more. But staring down at his boney hand he knew that that wasn’t an option for him. He made move to leave when Nieve suddenly put her hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, one more thing.” She said with a warm smile. Bending down and picking up her straw hat off the ground, she shook the dust off of it and raised it up. “I know it’s twenty-seven days until your birthday, but since I’m fifty years behind on your other birthdays I need some catching up. It’s not much, but…Feliz Cumpleaños, mijo…”

Reaching up, Héctor touched the frayed edges of the straw hat that had been plopped down onto his head. It wasn’t much at all, really. Especially when he had designers to make proper clothing for him and his entire family. Not to mention he had never been much of a hat person outside of performing. But this was a gift from his mother, his first gift, and it had instantly become a treasured heirloom passed on to a son.

Still touching it with reverence, Héctor fought the urge to cry again as he choked out, “…Gracias.”

“De nada.” Nieve whispered. “Now go.”

With a jerky nod Héctor stood up and away, pausing at the exit. “I… I will see you again, right?”

“Of course. All souls end up here eventually, though hopefully you’ll last a few more decades yet.” Nieve said with a grin.

Returning the smile Héctor peeled back the tattered curtain and, with one last look back, was gone. Alone now Nieve let her smile fall, sorrow filling her entire being, and collapsed to the floor. Trying to suppress the deep sobs in her chest, Nieve couldn’t keep herself to comparing this last time seeing Héctor with all those years ago. With a little sleepy baby, innocent to the turmoil he would face without her, looking at her with half lidded eyes in the arms of a nun. An imaged practically burned into her retinas.

And as she wept she said the same thing she told him almost fifty-one years ago.

“Goodbye, my little baby…”

#coco fanfic #somos familia #pixar coco #coco pixar #Hector Rivera

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