I promise this is mostly fluff. But Queenie does die, and it does affect Kinger.
Also don’t ask me how the babies are conceived between 2 literal chess pieces. It’s up to your imagination and we’ll leave it at that. Thankyou 🙃
The year 2020 in this world saw the rise of a horrifying disease known as abstraction. Abstraction was a degenerative disease that attacked the nervous system. If you were to contract It, there is a high possibility it will never leave you. People did end up beating it and surviving but those were rare cases. It caused countless deaths. It was a plague on the population.
Kinger was beyond terrified when his wife Queenie contracted it. They’d followed the rules to a tee, and still she was suffering. For almost 3 years she battled this horrible disease, with the fear of dying hanging over the family’s heads, she was determined to beat it. By her 4th pregnancy, she was Abstraction free. It was currently dormant in her system. They received the news that they were expecting twins, it was a higher risk than a single baby. They chose to continue the pregnancy and thankfully she delivered once again via C-section 2 healthy baby’s. Now with 5 kids, they were done. Until Queenie became pregnant for a 5th time. An accident, but not a completely unwanted accident. The both of them had always wanted a big family.
And then Queenie got sick after the Abstraction started attacking her system again, during her pregnancy. It was once again considered high risk, and they had a long chat about the options. Queenie was stubborn and determined to see things through. It didn’t feel right to terminate, she'd already survived one high risk and that was with twins. She convinced Kinger and they decided to continue. One of the high risks was the baby being born premature. They’d already gone through this with Gangle and were prepared if it were to happen again.
Everything was going pretty smoothly all things considered. The family was preparing for the new addition, the girls were ecstatic, Jax didn’t want a new baby to take all the attention.
It was a quiet day, Kinger was at work, and the contractions started. Queenie was shocked and terrified because she was almost 10 weeks short of her due date. She called kinger and he hurried home. They got Kinger’s brother Scratch to look after the kids.
They headed to the hospital in a panic. Queenie was admitted and taken for a C-section. Their baby boy was delivered and taken to the NICU. Kinger waited patiently to see Queenie.
She didn’t come out. The doctor pulled him aside and told him that she hadn’t made it. Queenie was gone.
The hospital cared for the baby and gave Kinger therapy options. He had a chance to say goodbye to her and broke down sobbing. The baby would have to stay in the NICU for almost 2 months and Kinger would go home. Alone. To his 5 children. To explain that their mum was gone. That their mum wasn’t coming back.
For the moment, Kinger pushed his grief aside to care for his children, explain to them and plan the funeral. Not giving himself this crucial time to grieve led him to experience a breakdown when the baby was discharged. His days felt repetitive and empty. Take Ragatha and Gangle to School. Take Pomni to kindergarten. Care for the twins and the new born. The new born who hadn’t received a name yet. A name was supposed to be decided by both of them, at the hospital while Queenie would be doing skin-to-skin contact. But that didn’t happen and Kinger didn’t know how to move forward with his newborn son.
There was a part of Kinger that blamed Queenie’s death on his son. A tiny part that he pushed away. It was getting harder to function. Neglecting his own needs to tend to his children. This cycle continued. Just him going through the motions. Doing the bare minimum. He fed them, took them to school and put them to bed. It was neglectful to only cater to their needs for survival. He was so tired. Maybe he could just go to sleep and never wake up. So he laid down on his double bed and drifted, he dreamed of his wife.
Time moved and his children were left to fend for Ragatha tried her best, but she was only 8 and was supposed to be at school. The normally quiet baby cried and screamed. No one came. Jax was left to his own devices and decided to climb a tree, too thin a branch and the wrong footing and he fell. His knee bulged and any movement made him scream. Ragatha ran around looking for Scratch’s phone number. She called him on the old phone in the kitchen. He rushed over, grabbed the five kids and the baby and rushed to the hospital. Jax ended up needing surgery to repair his knee. Scratch signed off on it after explaining the situation. He returned back to Kinger’s place and spent the rest of the day caring for the hungry, scared kids.
after everyone was tucked in bed or a crib (Jax needed to stay at the hospital) Scratch confronted Kinger. All the buildup over the months caused Kinger to completely breakdown. With the new revelation on Kinger’s fractured mind and his deteriorating physical state, Scratch decided to step in and help Kinger find a place to receive care. Kinger needed up explaining to the children that he was going away for awhile to get some help. Of course the kids immediately thought he was going away forever like mum had. He hurriedly shut that idea down. He kissed them all goodbye, promised he’d call every day and drove away. (He made a quick stop to explain to Jax what was happening)
It took several months, but Kinger did return. He was grieving, but in a much healthier way. He rejoined his family and was determined to make amends. The first step toward acceptance was finally coming up with a name for his son. He named him Caine, and held him close.
Scratch came around more often to help out on particularly heavy grief days. Those became less and less and Kinger was once again finding joy in the little moments.
if you have any questions, send me an ask or write a comment. I’ve got lots to talk about for this AU :D
(Just a PSA. If you would like to take one of these AU’s and add on to them, please do and tag me so that i can see. I am unable to focus on any enough to become fully fledged, my brain just doesn't work like that. So please i give anyone permission to use these ideas and make it your own. You just have to promise to tag me so i can see it :3
The Z team having a boring shift, — which, post Shroud, everything could be boring, — so they decide to make a competition: Who had the worst week.
“Right, well, — on top of getting investigated for a justified murder, my lamp filled apartment has mold in it. So.” Robert bored. “Beat that.”
“That’s not fair, you got main character angst!” Prism complained. “I got a cold. And Beyonce ain’t answering my DM’s!”
“Pft, that’s all?” Sonar is either doing his job, or doing something he shouldn’t on the job. “My favorite streamer hasn’t posted in a month. Guy is SHITTY with time management.”
“You’re your favorite streamer. “
“Shit. I really gotta work on that.”
Strangely enough, Flambae hasn’t said much this whole time. Which shouldn’t worry Robert, but he hasn’t cursed him out all day.
“What about you, Flambae ? Conditioner ran out?”
Flambae, voice easy enough, finally responds.
“Well, my mom died. But like. Those things sound bad, too. Mostly Robert’s.”
Robert hasn’t blinked in 39 seconds.
There’s a heavy, secret sort of silence that follows. Robert hears Galen’s quiet ‘oh boy’ from across the room.
“… I’m… “ Robert tries to puzzle words in place. “Okay. I’m, —“
Flambae, short, but easy, snorts from the other side. “I’m glad you are.”
“That’s not it, asshole, I’m trying to, —“
“I know, Bob-Bob” Flambae murmurs. “Thanks.”
It makes Robert’s throat close up. He doesn’t know why.
Flambae carries on. He doesn’t sound heavy, — just light. Like he trained himself not to do anything else. “Hey, does anyone want the mission at Gravy’s?”
“Nope!” Prism immediately confirms.
“All yours, man.” Golem accepts.
“Go ahead, lad.” Punch Up murmurs, softer than usual.
“It better be perfect.” Coop gently orders.
Robert should leave it. He should. He doesn’t. But he at least takes it to a private line. “…You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m not gonna burn shit or anything, calm down! I can’t even send her pics of it anymore. Not worth it.”
“It’s not that. You’re not really talking. You don’t have to, but — I guess everyone’s worried. Me too. If that counts.”
“I can’t think of funny shit to say.”
Robert blinks.
“…Do you only talk when you’re trying to make us laugh?”
“Yeah. I mean, that, and being an asshole. “
“Yeah,” Robert’s laugh comes in one breath. “That, too. But you were neither today. So. That felt weird. Like the force got disturbed.”
“Nerd.” Flambae chuckles. Robert can hear faint wind in the background. He can picture the man flying across the sky, with all the other beautiful things.
“Chad. How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. Like the world died with her?” He shrugs. Or that’s how Robert pictures him. “Isn’t it like that for everybody?”
It wasn’t. “I mean, it was like that for me, when my dad passed, — well. He got brutally murdered. I’m sure there’s a difference.” He softened. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know, I’m new to the dead parents club,” he chuckled, quiet, like he stayed awake longer than time. “Any tips?”
“…Actually, no one aside from Chase was there for me after, so. Not the best person to ask.”
“You suck at this,” Robert can feel being smiled at. His chest feels wrong. “But I like it.” He takes a breath. “Do you think it’d be weird? If I still sent her stuff?”
“No,” Robert answers immediately. “Go ahead and set some shit on fire. And send it to me, too. Whatever you want.”
Flambae doesn’t thank him, but he does send him pictures of buildings up in flames. ‘U would’ve liked her’
Apologies to the queue, this one is of my own creation
He loved, and he loved, and he lost you. And it hurts like hell.
Lion El’Jonson
He would take it with a silence so deep it seems unbecoming. Lion would tell himself this is duty, this is discipline, this is what must be endured, but the truth is simpler and crueler - he loved you, and now he has to live in the world of your absence. No one is allowed to say your name lightly again. And Lion? He will carry it like a wound he has no intention of showing, and if anyone dares to speak of you with disrespect, they will learn very quickly that grief is only one step away from wrath.
Fulgrim
Your perfect spouse would fall apart in the most beautiful way imaginable, and that is what makes it worse. Fulgrim loved you with every fiber of his being, with every flourish of devotion, and losing you is not something he can simply mourn, because he feels like failure. He will try to turn grief into art, into performance so exquisite it almost stops being pain. Almost. But in the quiet, when the applause is gone and the mirrors are covered, your perfect Primarch will still be there trembling because nothing he makes can bring you back.
Perturabo
He would pretend first that it does not matter. Then he would pretend it matters only in the practical sense. Then the cracks would start to show, because Perturabo loved you in a way that made him vulnerable, and vulnerability is the one thing he despises. He will attempt to rebuild the world around the hole you left, brick by brick, but the hole will remain. And the worst part is that he knows it. He knows exactly where you should have been, and every day that you are not there will feel like another insult the universe dared to hand him.
Jaghatai Khan
He would grieve like the wind grieves a broken road. Quietly, absolutely, and without asking anyone for permission. Your Khan loved you with all freedom on his hands, never trying to own you, only to ride beside you for as long as fate allowed. And once you are gone, he pull the breaks. Jaghatai becomes more distant, more still, and somehow more bleak. The laughter is gone, and in its place is a silence vast enough to swallow a world is present.
Leman Russ
He would rage first, because that is what his heart does when it is wounded. He loved you openly and fiercely but now his love has nowhere to go. So it becomes the kind of grief that makes the room feel too small. But under all that ferocity is the rawest kind of loss, it leaves a man looking at his own hands and wondering how something so human can hurt this much. Leman will howl your absence into the night until even the wolves go quiet.
Rogal Dorn
He does not know how to fall apart, so he builds a wall around the place where his heart used to be. Dorn loved you with the same steadiness with which he built everything else: without waste, without hesitation, without asking for reward. Losing you does not make him dramatic. It makes him unmovable. He will continue functioning, continue protecting, continue enduring, but every action will carry the weight of your absence. And yet, everyone noticed, even if he wished they didn't.
Konrad Curze
He known this was coming, but this not make it easier. He loved you like a man already standing in the ruins, reaching for the one thing that made the darkness bearable. When Konrad loses you, he tells himself that this was always the end, that everything dies, that he was foolish to hope otherwise. But...he did hope. That is the wound. Not the loss itself, but the fact that he let himself believe, for one brief moment, that he could be saved by being loved. And once gone your memory haunts him like a prophecy he could not escape.
Sanguinius
As expected, the Perfect Angle would grieve with beauty and horror intertwined. He loved you with a kind of tenderness that made him brave, and losing you feels like losing the last light in a room already full of shadows. He will keep the appearances because that is who he is, but it will be the look of someone holding himself together for the sake of everyone else. In private, Sanguinius will break quietly. He will remember every kindness, every touch, every promise, and each one will hurt more than the last because he loved you so fully and now has nowhere to place that love.
Ferrus Manus
He acts as though loss is a problem to be solved, and for a while he is trying to solve it. Ferrus loved you with a blunt certainty and no hesitation. So when you are gone, he does not know what to do with a heart that has nowhere to go now. He will become harder, quieter, more relentless, but none of that is strength. He is merely a man trying to keep his head straight while the one person who made it possible is no longer there.
Angron
He would suffer in a way so violent it almost stops being recognizable as grief. Despite all odds, he loved you, and that love would have been one of the few things in him that was gentle before the world touched it. Losing you not just hurt. It tears at every old wound he already carries and make them all speak at once. Angron would not be graceful about his grief. He would be furious, shattered, and terrifying, because when Red Angel loses something that mattered, the whole universe learns how badly a broken heart can bleed.
Roboute Guilliman
He would organize the grief before he ever allows himself to feel it. He loved you with a careful, committed devotion, the kind that builds futures instead of merely admiring them. So when you are gone, Roboute will keep holding the line, because that is what he can do. But the silence around him will change. The world will seem less ordered, less possible. And in the rare moments when he permits himself to remember, he will feel the loss as a weakness that cannot be governed.
Mortarion
He would endure it now and forever. He loved you with loyalty that made him believe, against all instinct, that something precious could be kept. Losing you just confirms every bitter suspicion he has ever had about the world. Mortarion will become more distant, more poisonous in speech, but the ache beneath it will never leave him. His love for you was proof that even he could have something clean and lasting, and now that proof has been taken from him.
Magnus the Red
He tries to understand the shape of the pain before he attempts to accept it. Crimson King loved you with wonder, curiosity, and a kind of reverence that made you feel like a miracle. Losing you would break something in him that no amount of knowledge can repair. After your passing Magnus will search for meaning, signs, and hidden doors in the dark, because he cannot bear the idea that this is simply loss with no answer.
Horus Lupercal
Losing you would make him dangerous, because he would not accept that something he cherished could simply be taken from him. Horus would turn the grief outward at first, lashing out like he never did before. He will try to master the pain through force of will but it will not work. Underneath the command presence and the charismatic smile, there is a man who knows he failed to keep the one thing he wanted most. You.
Lorgar Aurelian
He would make your loss into theology before he can stop himself. Lorgal loved you with total devotion, the kind that turns every tenderness into doctrine and every memory into sacred text. Losing you feels like a punishment, a cruel revelation that he was inadequate. He kneels to your absence as if it were a shrine, and he will weep there with all the sincerity of a man whose heart was built to worship and now has nowhere left to place its devotion.
Vulkan
He would grieve like a hearth going cold. Vulkan loved you with warmth, patience, and a kind of steadfast care that made life gentler just by being near it. Losing you would not make him less kind, but it would make him quieter. He will keep building, keep protecting, and keep being there for others, because that is what he does. But he will do it with the knowledge that the place you occupied in his heart is now a silence no fire can fill.
Corvus Corax
He would disappear into the dark. Corvus loved you softly, with the kind of loyalty that does not ask to be seen. Losing you would make him turn even deeper inward, because that is where he goes when the world becomes too loud. He will keep your memory close, hidden from everyone who does not deserve it. And in the dark, when there is no one to witness the shape of his pain, he will finally allow himself to miss you in full.
Alpharius Omegon
They would bury the grief under layers of masks, plans, and plausible deniability. They loved you in a way no one ever fully understood, and losing you makes the secrecy hurt more, not less. Because even now, even in absence, they would still be trying to protect you. They would continue plotting, continue being impossible to read, but somewhere underneath all of it is the unbearable truth: they loved you, and now the one person they could not afford to lose is the one person they did.
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Hey! I now have more here! (and here)
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+Taglist (if you want to be added - let me know, I suck at not-direct communications): @beckyninja, @the-mysterious-detective, @randomlyappearingartist, @nereidof40k, @bookandyarndragonwritesdark, @renegadesyx, @incrediblethirst, @omg1wanttidd1es-sb, @stpdeletacc, @baldieboi , @acgames, @veryspecificreason, @jackalwolfsoul, @hopefully-grimderp, @acexsmhking, @trackerkitsune, @catabibaz0n , @subtlepoisonknowledge, @yyourmotherr, @riokunova, @marcela2000, @f1shz , @rogalist-of-dorns, @aggresivemenace, @passionofthesith, @t-boneless, @tea-ring, @nightlordlover, @lithiummoonfox, @warhorny-on-main
a term for any part that is missed, grieved, or was 'lost' to their system. this may have been through shattering, prolonged dormancy, fusion (particularly negative fusion), drastic fragmentation, or any other occurrence that the system views as loss.
this is one of the few terms that the headmate themselves cannot claim. rather, its intended use is to give those who loved them a term to refer to them by, memorializing their existence and showing that they were cherished by the rest of their system.
more personal info below the cut, surrounding what inspired us to make this.
#OHHHH THIS IS WHAT AMMIE WAS #man i wish she were around to see this
these tags were left under our house host term by @crys-ambivalenttowardrbs . it hit us hard. it made us happy to know that we'd been able to give a recognized name to something others experience, especially when the person in our own system, who coined it for themselves, struggled for so long to define their role in words.
"man, I wish she were around to see this."
we've echoed that sentiment so many times, about so many we've lost; it makes us emotional reading it over trying to write this. they would have loved this, if only they could see it. it's even harder now, because we lost the person who coined that role, split up into multiple for a lot of different reasons. though we love the newcomers dearly, there's still that sense of loss for the person they were.
everyone focuses so much on how, in the typical way, headmates can't die, so they skim past the fact that you can still lose them because it's 'not the same'. we've always hated that. loss is loss, no matter what way. sometimes you can get them back. sometimes you can't. it doesn't change the fact that it hurts when they're gone.
we wanted a way to let others know they're not alone in grieving. a way for those left to show that the ones they lost weren't just forgotten, they're memorialized, whatever that means to them. a way to commemorate the alters that didn't make it through to the other side.
this post is dedicated to ammie. it's dedicated to those in our partner system that we never got the privilege to meet before their collapse. it's dedicated to all the members of our system we've lost over the years, and to those we never got to meet properly before they slipped away. it's dedicated to every single part, alter, headmate, fragment, that every plural has lost in their journey.
we understand that holding on is hard. we know. but your system will love and cherish you, and what you did for them, long after you're gone.
Hello yes do you think the first few days after Holmes disappeared at the Reichenbach Falls, Watson had a teeny-tiny grain of hope left that Holmes had somehow survived - after all, they hadn't found his body, right? That maybe tonight he would wake from a knock at the window, or that the strange old lady in his train compartment on the way back to London would suddenly pull off her wig and laugh at him ... Because after all, after all, a body wasn't found, and what if Holmes had returned to England, what if he waited for him at Baker Street, perhaps, perhaps ...? How he would shout with joy and surprise and embrace his friend and tell him that this truly was bad form and that he'd better not try something like that again!
And how he wouldn't be entirely able to disguise his deep relief and love for Holmes, and how they would both pretend to feel victorious and boast to each other about their adventure when he could see from one quiet look in his friend's eyes that Holmes knew that he meant the world to Watson, and that he did not mind Watson leaving him to stupidly rush back to Meiringen, and how he, indeed, was very sorry for not having been able to reveal himself to Watson directly after the incident, two days ago, three days ago ... four days ago ... and then ...
