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dayscapism · 2 years ago

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Thoughts on Tomorrow (mostly on episode 2)

TW: Mentions of depression, bullying & suicide

So I watched a couple of episodes of Tomorrow and I don't think I'll be continuing with the drama. Episodes 1 & 2 left me a bit conflicted, and the next two episodes didn't give hope for the series as a whole.

There's some good, but also some very bad: I really like that both Rowoon's character and the female lead Goo Ryeon are always quick and firm when defending people that belittle and invalidate the suicidal people, reassuring me of the intention of the show. But the cases shown so far are all too quickly and neatly resolved, despite being solved through the wrong methods; even the abusers get what they're due (sort of), getting some of the same sufferings and publicly discredited.

I couldn't stand episode 2. I was just screaming at the screen. In this episode, the suicide attempt is solved with harsh words, then the grim reaper Goo Ryeon lets the person fall off a building to save her at the last second, and then somehow it seems like the suicidal person will now magically be happy. More than unrealistic, the whole thing felt dishonest.

Rowoon's character is right when he says how can Goo Ryeon talk to someone suicidal in the manner that she does. She dares them to jump off, by saying stuff like: "Jump, then. No one will care, because who cares about people like you," and then "Did you even try to overcome your trauma? You should have tried harder" or "It's all because you're weak and a coward", etc. And once she's saved her, Goo Ryeon is all: "oh it's the bullies that are evil? Not you. Just be happy from now on, okay? Don't let anyone treat you badly again." Like??? Yeah, that was never in question here!! Our trauma brain isn't usually rational.

I suppose that's the point of Rowoon's character here. He's the empath of the team. (Rowoon as an actor is always so sympathetic and emotional.) And maybe, maybe this approach could work in a specific case, and I'm not a mental health professional, but it's obvious the way Goo Ryeon routinely handles the cases it's not a good approach to helping suicidal people. Sure, she gets results, but at what cost? More trauma?

This poor girl from episode 2 is now traumatized by a close encounter with a callous pink-haired grim reaper (something which she probably won't be able to explain in therapy if she went). She really needed therapy for the years-long trauma and PTSD (probably anxiety too). She needed her workplace to be more humane. She needed for her boss to be reprimanded if not fired for his unprofessionalism, and maybe for HR to intervene when she said she couldn't do the job due to mental health and she should have been excused. No job, no profit is worth anyone's mental wellbeing. Maybe they could have made some commentary on how non-empathetic the company workplaces and capitalism are, and how negatively it can affect people's underlying mental health issues. And that would have been a less exciting and supernatural story I imagine.

These characters have gone through a supernatural event after the grim reapers save them, and sure that would probably change anyone's life view, but saving people from a suicide attempt is NOT usually the end of the journey; they won't be automatically happy and their problems solved.

For this suicide risk management team of grim reapers to make a true difference, they would need to do stuff like therapy accessibility, make sure they have a support system, make sure they have affordable housing & enough economic stability to push themselves out of their mental health struggles (for which maybe they would need to strike them with some supernatural luck so they get a well-paying job)... but can you imagine how complicated this would be when all of these are the systemic problems we face in the real world?

With the alarming suicide rate in South Korea (and globally), it's commendable that more dramas seem to be attempting to incorporate it into their stories. But oh the paradox of writing stories about mental health: either you do it faithfully, with care, and it becomes a terribly structured story and probably boring too, or you do it for entertainment and just give some terrible potentially problematic representation. Because in real life, mental health is complex and intersectional with many other issues like economic stability, race, gender, class, ethnicity, etc, etc. Saving someone like the guy (homeless I think he was) in episode 1 and then just leave him be will probably solve nothing for them.

Yet I'm not sure if this show is going in a direction like The Good Place did, where, in the end, the system and the structures that have been in place for centuries are what's at fault, not the individual. Here they understood that people grow when you give them support and love, while sometimes being powerless against systems (and mind you, The Good Place is also a hilarious show).

Of course the subject matter is different, so it might be unfair to compare the two. I do hope Tomorrow will feature stories in future episodes about victims whose recovery is not as straightforward, bullies who are not so easily taken down, and maybe even cases that actually... fail and end up in tragedy, because it would make the message stronger and more honest.

Maybe that's the entire point of Rowoon's character, maybe at the end it will be a hopeful and beautifully written show about a sensitive topic, and I did try watching 2 more episodes but I couldn't see it happening.

Also, I understand suicide it's still taboo in a lot of places and a charged topic (it seems even for grim reapers) but everyone calls them weak or sinners. I guess grim reapers are as prejudiced and human as humans, and that's why the suicide risk management team is such a small team. Speaking of, this whole "will dissolve the team if you don't show results" warning plot point does nothing for the tension. For what reason do they need this extra layer of a challenge when they're already struggling to keep afloat and save people? It's just distracting and slows down the already slow pacing of this drama.

I honestly had to fast-forward a lot of parts in episode 2. Maybe that's praise for how much it made me feel for the victim, but it's also a bit of a miss when they're also going for a workplace comedy. Ultimately, I think they tried not to be too heavy, too problematic, too much... but I actually think they should have gone all-in with it. Right now it feels like a supernatural comedy with tonal problems, surface-tackling of complex subjects in a melodramatic manner when I feel it should be the opposite: a serious show with complex cases, messy outcomes & realistic portrayals of long-term prognosis of mental health and suicide, while the main characters try to lighten up and cope with such a job on their daily life with comedy, and while also having personal mysteries to resolve.

I am happy for everyone that is liking this show, I wanted to like it too (I'm having a media slump for me right now where nothing lands) and maybe it will bring some needed attention to the topic of suicide prevention, but I'm honestly not sure what to say, as I probably won't finish it.

Like Tim from the YT channel, Hello Future Me says: writing mental health topics well (especially depression and suicide), it's COMPLICATED. There is no perfect method, and you might have to compromise on some storytelling aspects. Balancing good storytelling when writing about mental health it's very, very hard to do. To be fair, I think the Eastern/Asian storytelling structure is better for this, and also a serialized format like a tv series, a video game, or comic, as opposed to single-installment stuff like a 2 hr movie or standalone book.

If you want a show with a fantasy, afterlife premise with amazing discussions on morals & capitalism watch The Good Place. If you want afterlife & death discussions + buddy comedy watch Goblin: the Lonely and Great God (I mean it's not perfect in the main romantic pair but the all the subjects are treated with sensitivity). Or if you want some ghosts + comedy along with a bunch of good tragedy watch Hotel del Luna.

#mbc tomorrow #tomorrow #kdrama #k drama #review #rant #tw: suicide #2022 #netflix

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stackthedeck · 2 years ago

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Tell me about that house. Their kids, their cats, their lizard. What kind of lizard is it? Does Aunt May watch the kids on date night? Have they been given the most heartmeltingly ridiculously nerdy names? What is MJ up to?

listen here's my lukewarm take but Peter Parker just wants to be normal. He's not a hero because he's looking for glory or praise, he's doing it because he can and therefore should. Spider-Man is not a career, it is a hobby and he's going to settle down one day if he can

So maybe in some universe, Norman doesn't turn himself into the green goblin, maybe Harry goes to therapy and lets someone else run Oscorp. Idk how it happens but Harry and Peter get married and buy a little house in Queens not far from Aunt May and Uncle Ben's place because that neighborhood has always felt more like home to Harry than whatever stuffy mansion Norman raised him in. Harry just adores that there are people present in his life. No matter how late he has to stay up, Peter always comes home to him. He never has to worry about if he's measuring up because Harry will always be enough for Peter.

Now I think Harry Osborn is a cat person and I don't think anyone is going to argue this point. Harry can be outgoing, but he prefers that quiet one on one time. Like people with daddy issues get cats that's just the rules of life. They get the dumbest cuddliest orange cat they can find and they name it flash. I can't explain it, but Peter Parker has reptile person energy. Guys that are into very specific sciences and are genuinely good people have some kind of pet reptile, I've never been proven wrong. I think they'd have a crested gecko because they're relatively low maintenance and they're busy people but they're also so sweet once they're comfortable with you. Also, they love climbing and jumping and I think it'd be really cute if Peter and this gecko just hung out on the ceiling together. Harry tries to get Peter to name it Curtis, this is soundly rejected. They decide to name her Lex after the girl from Jurassic Parker because I don't care what time period the spider-man story is set, Peter is a 90s kid.

Also I think they'd adopt older kids. Because Peter is out here doing superhero shit and every other hero has the heartbreaking backstory of dead parents and being tossed around the system till they get powers or are sponsored by a billionaire. But how many kids are in the same situation but don't get powers or are drawn to the dark side instead of the good guys. And like yeah, Peter started doing superhero shit too young as well, but as he gets older the grim reality of that hits harder. So Harry and Peter foster and obviously they can't adopt every kid that passes through their home, but they want to give them everything they need to build the best life they can, even if it's just for a little bit. The kids they do adopt are already too old to change their names, but they ask for suggestions for their middle names, or maybe their trans and want to change their first name too and Peter suggests Ben and May (obviously) but also just the names of fallen heroes and just normal New Yorkers that have helped Spider-Man throughout the years. Harry is the best dad ever even though is terrified that he's going to fuck up the kids. He's constantly scared of acting out like his father, but he's always there for his kids and they feel comfortable telling him anything and he listens. They have enough money from Harry's trust fund and Oscorp that they're comfortable and finally Peter doesn't have to worry about money, but they don't spoil their kids, mostly because Norman used buying things for Harry as a way to skip actually showing affection. They're an "only getting gifts on birthdays and holidays" family. Peter is a "do your homework" kind of dad and Harry is an "I don't feel like going into the office today so you're skipping school and we're going to the zoo and getting ice cream" kind of dad. Also, Harry is the king of the PTA, he only brings the finest homemade baked goods to the school bake sale. And obviously, Aunt May watches the kids, she comes over uninvited (well, she's always invited of course) to hang out with them and the kids agree, Peter's aunt is way cooler than him.

MJ in this universe is still close with Harry and Peter and you know I'm not opposed to a polycule but maybe she didn't have time to settle down. Maybe her own parents' constant fighting just put her off the idea of marriage and commitment. And of course, she loves Peter and Peter loves her, but they just couldn't mesh like that, but they're still friends. MJ pursues her dreams to become a Broadway actress and she is an absolute star, Peter and Harry go to see her opening night of every show. Eventually, she decides she's meant for bigger and better things. She writes and directs her own plays and musicals, she's the biggest name in the industry and she writes a Spider-Man musical and it's a smashing success. And maybe she and Gwen Stacy have a thing since we're just creating the perfect universe. They all meet up for drinks at least once a month if not once a week. And sure, Harry and Peter are married, but they're friends first and Peter has built a family out of his friends and when he has Harry, MJ, and Gwen all together, everything is perfect.

#asks #I just want them to be happy #and like obviously the white picket fence life doesn't make everyone happy #but Peter wants that apple pie life so bad

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maybe-your-left · 4 years ago

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Window Panes - Forever

We made it!

Here is the Window Panes Masterlist and my Masterlist for all my other fics.

Summary: A cool breeze nipped at your exposed legs, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. You were curled into your comforter, comfy and safe, your cheek pressed against your pillow. Lips pursed and a small amount of drool seeping into the fabric. A creak came from the corner of your room, slightly rousing you from your slumber. You glanced around, your drooping eyelids barely taking in the scene. In your sleep riddled state, you didn't see him, his large figure stalking towards you. The whites of his eyes shining in the moonlight, it wasn't until you felt a palm slide up your side. Following the natural contours of your body, the warmth emanating from it lulling you to sleep once again. A dip in the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight.

Hot breath fanned over your neck, soft lips pressing onto the back of your ear. A deep hum filling your senses, you sighed. Cuddling back into the figure, wanting to get closer to the warm entity. A low chuckle sounded behind you, and then...

Nothing.

TW/CW: This is dark shit, like explicitly horrible shit happens in this. However, I enjoy reading dark fics, and I super loved Stalker Clyde by @clumsycopy & was inspired by the oneshot EOS by @thetorturerwrites and I wanted to write something with the sameish tone for Halloween. NSFW, Violence, Murder, Non-con elements, Domestic Violence, Surgery, Explicit sex, oral sex, anal sex, sex toys, miscarriage, mental manipulation, stockholm syndrome, waterboarding, forced feeding, Animal abuse (just a brief mention, I do not go into any detail).

“Is it-Are we rolling?”

“Yeah, we’re rolling.”

“Okay, great,” a sigh of relief.

You shifted in your chair, smoothing back your hair and itching the microphone that was attached to your shirt collar. Crossing and recrossing your legs, you should’ve worn pants, a skirt was a stupid idea with these boots. You gave a weak smile to the woman across from you, her white teeth flashing the cameras all around the sound stage.

“Okay,” she looked into the lens, “We are here tonight with one of the victims of the famous 2020 murder trial from New York. She went through over five years of repeated abuse at the hands of her kidnapper, all while he was out killing people around the city.” She turned to you, nodding her head as a show for you to react to the TV. “It’s so nice to have you here, Miss (Y/N).”

You cleared your throat, shifting once more, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.”

“How are you doing?”

You bit back a scoff, what a stupid thing to ask. After that introduction, what was she expecting you to say, ‘oh I’m fucking fantastic, I’ve been running since the day he was sent to prison and going through intense psycho-therapy to rid myself of Stockholm syndrome.’.

“I’m great,” you faked a smile, “Always nice to visit New York again.”

“I’m sure,” she smiled once more, all you could think about were the wrinkles on her face, the crows feet on the corner of her eyes. She must get botox for working at a news station, there’s no way her skin is on with just natural confidence.

“When was the last time you visited?”

You had to stop yourself from blurting out an answer, knowing that this would be on national television. Which you knew federal prisons watched, you wouldn’t want to give away any of your whereabouts since the incident. “Uh-it’s been a few years, I haven’t had much reason to be back. My life has shifted to another part of the world.”

“That’s fantastic! So you’ve been doing well for yourself the past six years?”

“Yeah,” you gave a genuine smile, “It’s been tough, no off days really. Trying to gain some normalcy from it all, but I’ve done well. I live relatively fearless, of everything.”

“We have you here because of a break in your case, as I’m sure you know.”

You gave a grim nod.

It’s all anyone wanted to talk about since the story flashed on the news last week. Leaving your once quiet home filled with reporters. You weren’t even home when it happened, out getting groceries, gripping your sons’ hands firmly as you walked the aisles. Letting him pick out some snacks for his lunchbox, like any mother would, when your phone blew up.

Dozens of messages, calls, articles, you name it.

All with his face plastered on it.

Convicted murderer and kidnapper, Kylo Ren, has requested the death penalty. After being found attempting to escape federal prison for the 6th time in the past five years. The convict claims that he ‘would rather die than live another day rotting in his cell’. Dropping all the appeals cases that his lawyers have been pushing since his initial sentencing.

The former New York state governor was on trial for murderering and disemboweling 9 separate victims and kidnapping an 18-year-old girl. He kept her in his basement as his sex slave for close to 3 years before he married her, the young girl escaping into the streets when she was just 22 years old. Covered from head to toe in gashes, blood, and bruises. Claiming that her husband had beaten her within an inch of her life.

The subsequent trial lasted three months after his arrest. Leading to him being convicted of first-degree murder, rape, and domestic assault. He was sentenced to life in prison, his then-wife was placed under medical care for an undetermined time.

Mr. Ren has tried to get his charges appealed since the initial sentencing, claiming that his wife was mentally insane and an unfit witness. Along with other claims that include bribing members of the jury to change their verdicts. The whereabouts of Mr. Ren’s ex-wife is unknown, but he claims that he has kept tabs on her even from ‘the inside’.

“Your kidnapper is being put on death row, which isn’t allowed in the state of New York. Which means he is being transferred over state lines to another prison. However, it hasn’t been revealed where he is being brought because of people interfering with the swap. How do you feel about that?”

You chewed your cheek, thinking for a moment. There was no way he did this willingly, Ren was never someone to take the easy way out. The last time you heard from him was three years ago, on your son’s birthday.

Receiving a call from the prison, the only one you had gotten since the sentencing.

You remember picking up the phone, throat going dry as you whispered that you accepted the charges. Waiting for the operator to connect you to him, after three long years without his voice.

“Hello, love.”

“What,” you whispered, stepping away from the living room of screaming toddlers. Your boyfriend gave you a weird look when your face went white as a ghost. “What do you want, Ren?”

“How are you? Doing well I hope?”

You huffed, moving into your kitchen and ripping a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Taking a drink as you snarled, “Just tell me what shitty thing you have to say so I can go back to my family.”

“Oh, yes. Your family.” he sighed, “And what a sweet family it is… little Luke is how old now? I would think he would be about… three.”

“How do you know about my son?”

“Hm.”

“I don’t think he’s just yours.”

“You shut your mouth, Luke is not your son. I’m going to hang up if you don’t get to the point.”

“He’s growing up so well. Hairs getting longer, but I know you like to keep it short. But he complained about his ears last time-so big.”

You took a deep breath, peaking into the living room. Just in time to see your baby boy, smiling and laughing with his friends. Sitting in your boyfriends’ lap, tearing into presents. His big eyes shone with tears of joy when he ripped through a gift that was his favorite color, red. A squeal so loud it could’ve shattered a window, pulling out a giant plush toy. It was like a penguin-mixed with a little dog, no nose, and some sharp fangs. From one of his favorite TV shows, along with a card and some other little toys.

“Tell me, love,” he chuckled, “Does he like his present? He sounds over the moon about it through the speaker. What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my fingers through his dark hair, look him in the eyes and tell him how much his father loves him.”

You made Luke sleep in bed with you that night, holding his small body flush with yours. Running your fingers through his curls as he snored into your chest, small tracks of drool seeping into your nightshirt. Trembling as you stared at the shadows, dancing across the bedroom from the window. Full moon shining, you could’ve sworn the floor was creaking downstairs, the sound of footsteps climbing towards your room rang in your ears.

You didn’t sleep that night, staring into your son’s face as he woke. Blinking awake to smile as you, his grin reaching across his face. All the way to his ears, large ears, covered by his almost black waves. His long lashes fluttering as he greeted you, “Hi mama.”

His eyes.

Fuck.

One of them your eye color, shining back at you. But the other, it was his.

Deep auburn, shining in the sunlight. Daring you to challenge him, defy him, prove him wrong, anything that would allow him to unleash whatever hell lived under his skin. Flowed through his blood, tainting every corner of your psyche. His child, the one you hid from the world. Moving as far away as you could, claiming it was your boyfriends’ child.

But he knew.

And Luke was starting to notice.

“I feel,” you looked at your hands, forcing them into fists to stop them from shaking, “Just fine, he’s not in my life anymore. Just a small chapter in the book of my story, I hope that he finds peace. Wherever he goes.”

“Peace? For a man that almost killed you multiple times?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I do. I can’t change who he is, or what he’s done. I can just try as hard as I can to move on. And if being on death row will help him find what he’s looking for then I wish him the best of luck.”

She gave you a weird look, shifting in her seat, “Do you think it says anything about his guilt?”

“Guilt?”

“Yes, for the past six years he has never acknowledged that he was guilty. Claiming that the jury and witnesses were bought and that you were mentally unstable-making up half the accusations against him. Do you think that him asking for the death penalty is a way of admitting that he was guilty?”

“Hell no,” you blurted out, eyes going wide at the camera, “Oh-can I swear? I’m so sorry.”

She laughed you off, “You’re fine, we can blur it out. But you sound so confident? Do you think he believes that he’s done nothing wrong?”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “Not to repeat myself but, hell no. That man knows, he’s very conscious of his decisions. Everything has a purpose, everything is done for a reason, Ren doesn’t waste his energy on doing something for no benefit.”

“What would be the benefit of being put on death row?”

You sighed, thinking about Ren, trying to get into his mindset to see how he could angle the sentencing changing. Letting out a sharp laugh as you rubbed your eyes, “Well-you said it earlier.”

She looked at you confused.

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.”

New York doesn’t have the death penalty.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, looking around the room frantically. “Oh my god-oh my god-oh my GOD-New York doesn’t have the death penalty!” you screamed, shooting out of the chair. Grasping the reporter by her shoulders and shaking her violently, “He knew! He knew I was coming here! He’s gonna take him!”

“Miss (Y/N),” the reporters and security officers yelled. Trying to calm you down, but no, she had said it.

New York doesn’t have the death penalty.

You ran from the TV station, hailing a cab on the packed streets. Frantically calling your boyfriend over and over, he was at home. Back in Nevada… where the death penalty is legal, with Luke. He wouldn’t pick up, the dial tone ringing three times before his voice sang through the speaker.

You wailed in the back of the cab, calling everyone you knew back at home. Asking if they could go get Luke from school, if they had seen him that day. Anything to try prove false the sick feeling in your stomach you knew was true.

Running through airport security as fast as you could, taking the first flight back home. You prayed on the way that your boyfriend had Luke, safe and sound, back at home. Hopefully, curled in his red blanket, snuggling the stuffed animal he got that faithful birthday.

Even though no one knew where it came from.

Luke wouldn’t let you get rid of it.

Claiming his daddy gave it to him.

You just let him have it, he was three there was no way he would let you take his toy away once he had held it to his chest. Kissing it with his full lips, dragging it around the house every fucking day. It was his best friend, from the moment he saw it.

You cried on the plane, realizing too late that the gift was from him.

His real father.

Watching after his miracle child.

When you touched down in Las Vegas, your phone blew up. Your stomach flipping as you read through the messages from your boyfriend, explaining that he let your friend pick Luke up from school. The same friend claimed that your boyfriend had picked him up, Luke’s teacher calling to let you know someone in a black Porsche picked him up.

Whisking away his child from under your nose.

You choked on your tears as you read the message from his teacher, telling you how happy Luke was when he left. How he ran into your new boyfriend's arms, like he had known him for his entire life. She told you that he had introduced himself, Ben was just the most amazing father figure she had ever met. Stowing away Luke, surrounded by toys and chocolate when she waved them off.

After you gathered your luggage you walked towards the cabs out front. Stopping cold in your tracks when you saw a chauffeur holding a sign that said your old name.

Mrs. Ren.

You climbed in, body feeling numb.

Your phone dinged, a picture being sent to you from an unknown number.

A picture of Luke, held tightly against his real father’s chest. Drifting off to sleep in his strong arms that once choked you to death.

See you at home love, we miss you.

-----

I wanted baby luke to say something like ‘my daddy visits me at night’ but it was too on the nose.

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @millenialcatlady @ohdamnadamm @daydreamsofren @candycanes19 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @millenialcatlady @safarigirlsp @caillea @roanniom @insufferablelust @mrs-zimmerman

#adam driver #adamdriver #kylo ren #kidnapper au #window panes #modern kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #my writing #maybe-your-left #WATCH OUT #daddies here

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obsessedwithfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Twisted Wonderland MC/Yuu Story Ideas/Challenges

1. Nasuverse!MC Yuu is born with eyes of death perception

-Yuu wears glasses to keep their ability under control along with their more colder part of their personality at bay.

-Yuu can use any object as long it has a narrow end as a weapon.

-Yuu tries to hide their ‘problem’ but gives up when most find out about it.

-Yuu is an amazing cook and baker since they took lessons under Shiro, they can also use structural analysis, projection and tracing really well.

-Yuu is just trying to fit in but being a natural born killer makes it hard.

-Yuu went to Clock Tower and is used to A**holes trying to expirement on them so Night Raven College is a walk in the park until the Overblots happen even then it’s still better than Clock Tower because the Wizard Marshall is not there but they gained a useless Headmaster instead. Yuu is not happy.

~BONUS: Yuu offers their ability to kill everything even ghosts for the Ghost Bride event confessing that they can literally kill everything from even objects to magic and if they really tried to Ideas as well.

2. MagicalGirl!MC Yuu is your typical Magical girl

-Yuu found a brooch that transforms them into a magical girl.(think Sailor Moon)

-Yuu gains magic, super strength, speed, and agility when transformed (think Prettycure)

-Yuu has to fight Lost Ones in their reality planes to purify them (think Puella Magical Madoka)

-Yuu just wants a week off from fighting and almost dying every day.

-Yuu thought going to a magical school filled with people who can use magic and being labeled magicless meant that they can catch a break from being a ‘defender of love and justice’ (why did they want to be a magical girl again? they don’t get paid for all the sh*t they have been through) but they are now dealing with Overblots and being a part time counselor. (they are still not being paid tho)

~BONUS: Yuu uses her transformation as a Halloween costume with Grim being her magical animal companion.

3. Naruto!MC Yuu is a ninja nough said

-Yuu is an Uzumaki that is really good at seals and pranks.

- Yuu learned Medical Ninjutsu so people wouldn’t have to bite them.

-Yuu has chakra Chains and knows how to use them.

-Yuu can use Talk No Jutsu or Therapy No Jutsu or even better Punch And Talk It Out No Jutsu

-Yuu is was finishing a seal that will let them teleport at insane speeds like the fourth Hokage when it activated out of nowhere teleporting Yuu into a coffin where they proceeded to ninja vanish as soon as someone opened it with blue fire. They somehow ended up going to a magic school with a monster who tried to attack them for their clothes (the memory of the shadow clone said so) and they for some reason keep running into people who keep Overblotting but that’s okay all they really need is a good punch, now if they can only beat up that useless Headmaster all will be right in this strange new world.

~BONUS: Yuu kicks everyones A** on Bean Day and I mean EVERYONES

________________________________________________________________

These are just some random story ideas I had that I will never write and wanted to see if anyone wanted to give it a try. Please send me a link if you decide to use these ideas I would love to read it.

For the Naruto!MC I would like to add extra points if they make them Naruto’s twin carrying the other half of Kurama.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #mc/yuu #mc #yuu #disney twst #twst #crossover

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aizawaskittenwhore · 4 years ago

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𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x female reader #aizawa x you #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #nyafterhours

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madamebaggio · 4 years ago

Photo

Notes: Previously...

It’s been a while since I posted a new chapter here, but I’ve missed their relationship.

As I said before, I started writing this and it got really dark and heavy. It was too angsty for what I was trying to achieve for this work, so I redone some pieces in hopes of lighting it a bit.

It didn’t work much, because the subject is grim, but I did my best.

ALERT: In this chapter there are mentions of past abuse, drug use and a drowning. Just letting you all know.

***

Chapter 6

Now Theon had a problem.

Fine, maybe it wasn’t a problem. He’d had this conversation with himself recently.

Figuring out if he was in love with his best friend did not constitute a problem.

He was truly worried that he was mixing up feelings.

It didn’t matter how much Sansa said it wasn’t his fault, or that she didn’t blame him: he’d always blame himself for what had happened between her and Ramsay.

When Theon was in his early twenties, he got involved with Ramsay Bolton. He started hanging around with him, because Ramsay was absolutely wild and he encouraged Theon to be the same.

Robb had been his best friend since forever, but -at the time- Theon felt that Robb was getting boring. He was way too proper.

Ramsay was the opposite of Robb. He threw insane parties, crashed amazing parties, had fistfights, the best weed, sold molly…

Theon fell hard down that rabbit hole, and he didn’t think he actually needed to come out. Maybe he was ruining his life, but it was his to ruin anyway.

Then he got indebted to Ramsay. The drugs, bets… All those things started piling up.

Ramsay said he’d forgive part of the debt if Theon introduced Sansa to him. He’d seen her around and thought she was pretty.

Theon did it, because he thought Sansa would never go for Ramsay. She was a nice girl, and she could do much better.

However, he wasn’t aware that she was going through a rough time herself. Joffrey, her former boyfriend, had been an abusive fuck and had just left her. She was still reeling from it and Ramsay was just there.

Theon was shocked when she started dating Ramsay and hanging around, but he soon forgot all about it. Sansa seemed happy partying with them and Theon hadn’t known she was also taking molly from Ramsay.

At the time, he also hadn’t known that Ramsay was also hurting her.

The day Sansa almost died, was the day it all changed.

They were at this party at this house. It had a pool and they were drinking and listening to way too loud music.

Sansa had drunk a lot already and taken molly. Someone -one of Ramsay’s mates -pushed her into the pool, but -probably because of what she was in -she had a panic attack when she hit the water.

Everybody watched laughing, and it took Theon way too long to realise she was drowning. He was the one who jumped into the water and pulled her out. He was panicking and drunk himself, so he thought she wasn’t breathing.

When he asked someone to call an ambulance, the party broke and mostly everyone -Ramsay included -fled the scene. Theon was left basically alone and drunk with an unconscious Sansa.

One of the few people who’d stayed behind called an ambulance for Theon, while he tried to remember the lessons about CPR he’d taken many years before.

Sansa was taken to the hospital and faced many complications from the incident, and -after everything - Theon had wanted to stay away from her, because it was all his fault.

But then Robb came looking for him, because Sansa wouldn’t stop asking about him.

He went running back to her, to hold her hand and beg forgiveness, despite her insisting that it wasn’t necessary.

Sansa never blamed him for anything. Theon blamed himself for all of it.

They started going to therapy, promised to be honest with each other, cut on drinking and the insane behavior.

They stuck together for 5 years, holding each other’s hand, just being there sometimes.

He owed so much to Sansa and he didn’t think she knew it. She was like a beacon of pure light to his darkest moments.

Theon was so scared of ruining it. What if he thought he was in love with her and turned out to be wrong? What if she didn’t love him back?

“Do you want to kiss Sansa? Because if you do… Well, then it’s not just friendship.” Jon’s voice echoed on his head -not for the first time -making Theon’s thoughts even more confused.

Did he want to kiss Sansa?

***

“Theon, I have an idea.”

Theon groaned and covered his eyes. “Another one?”

“Yes.” Sansa confirmed sitting beside him. “According to Rickon…”

“The snitch.”

“They’ve raised their bets.” She finished, ignoring the jab.

“What? Why?”

“Because they think we’re about to admit we’re dating. For them, it’s a matter of time.” She snorted.

“So? What’s the plan exactly?”

“There aren’t many of them left at this point.” Sansa told him, a maniacal glee to her words. “The bet had a time limit, and the last day is a month from now.”

“And?”

“And once that day’s come and gone, we’ll tell them we knew all about it and collect the money.” She said triumphantly.

Theon arched an eyebrow. “What makes you think they’ll give us the money?”

“Because if they don’t I’ll tell dad about it.” She told him simply.

Theon guffawed at that, tears coming out of his eyes.

“Stop laughing.” Sansa pushed his shoulder.

“Oh babe…” He tried to get his breathing under control. “You’re such a spoiled brat.”

She pouted. “So you don’t want the money?”

“Of course I do.” He cleared his throat, then chuckled. “What do I have to do?”

“Ask Marge’s help to buy me flowers.”

“Why would I do that? You like winter roses mixed with baby’s breath and peonies.” He said as if it was obvious.

Theon didn’t know, but Sansa’s heart skipped a beat at that.

Oh Seven...

#madame baggio #IMAGES NOT MINE #crackship #modern au #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #Theon Greyjoy #Sansa X Theon #theonsa #maybe theyre seeing something we dont

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago

Text

The Birthmother: Dad Fluff

CW: Referenced past noncon - including noncon that occurred underage, frankly discussed past abusive relationship involving minors, referenced past captivity, referenced victim blaming. Frank discussion of difficult circumstances and mindsets surrounding adoption from adoptive parent and birth parent points of view.

Danny speaks with Mina’s birthmother just after her birth. This one’s a heartbreaker, guys - for Danny and for Marie West, Mina’s birthmother. Basically I’ve been tearing up in Starbucks for two hours now and will now inflict it on all of you.

“Can… Can I ask why?” Danny folds himself into the small chair in the hospital room, the plastic pastel padding doing nothing to make it even remotely comfortable to sit in, the pale wood arms and frame nearly the same color as his skin.

He hasn’t slept since they got the call that she was finally in labor, and he can feel an exhaustion headache beginning to throb just behind his eyes - still, he’s gone longer than this without sleeping, and the teenage girl in the hospital bed beside him hasn’t slept, either.

Marie West, fifteen years old and the birthmother of Danny’s daughter, looks down at her hands. She has beautiful fingernails, carefully manicured and painted a perfect even pinkish-cream color that pops against her skin.

“Why what?” She asks, in a low voice.

They’re alone in the room, except for the tiny newborn currently sleeping in the clear plastic rolling ‘crib’ next to Marie’s bed. She’s heavily swaddled in the white blanket with pink and blue stripes that, Danny thinks, it seems like every newborn in America gets as the very first thing they own.

The baby girl is approximately eight and a half hours old, and she has lighter brown skin than her mother, a tiny little mouth that moves in her sleep, and a thick fuzz of black hair that covers her head. She will be Danny’s daughter, if Marie doesn’t change her mind before the grace period is up, and Danny’s heart beats in his throat every time he thinks of that possibility… and he’s not sure whether he wants her to keep to her plan, or if some deep part of him wants to see her decide to keep the little girl, make the best of it, create a life that her child can be a part of.

Some part of him has always been wondering what it would have been like to have his birthmother decide to create a life with him.

“Why us? I mean, um, you don’t… really have to tell me. I just asked Nate and your mom to get coffee and give us a sec because, um, I wondered if… if you wouldn’t… if you couldn’t use a few minutes. I can go, too, if that’s better.”

Danny moves to stand, and stops when he catches Marie shifting around in the bed. She’s wearing a pink hospital gown with little patterned birds on it. It has a slit on each side for feeding the baby, although Marie has told Danny she isn’t going to. I’m sorry, I just can’t, she said to the nurse, who looked at her with perfect compassion and brought in tiny little bottles of premade formula, showing Danny how to give them to the little girl they have yet to name.

He doesn’t want to - not until he knows for sure that Marie won’t decide to take her home, give her a new name, and Danny and Nate will have to start again.

“No, you’re okay, don’t go. I just.” Marie shrugs, inspecting her hands for a few moments longer. Her hair falls in thick black waves around her face. “I, I guess… I just, um, liked you.”

Danny nods, swallowing against a knot in his throat, against the nervousness that makes his fingers clumsy, his hands want to shake. It’s funny, to have lived through what he has but asking a teenager why she wanted to give him a baby is what really scares him, now. “Thanks,” He says after the pause draws just a little too long, belatedly trying to cover it. “I, um, like to think I’m… likable.”

“Yeah.” There’s another pause. In it, the newborn baby girl makes a soft, high-pitched grunting sound, and both of them look to her with automatic instinct. She quiets and settles again on her own.

Marie sighs, and Danny wonders what she thinks, when the baby makes noise. Does a part of her want to take care of things, to hold the baby as tightly as she can and never let go? Does she just want someone to take the baby away? Is she fighting both feelings, all at once?

“Why… why did you like me?” Danny scoots the chair a little closer, wincing at the awful scraping sound it makes along the nondescript tile floor, but Marie doesn’t seem to notice. She keeps staring down at her hands.

“Because… because. Um. Because I, I just, because you said you were adopted, too, in your profile? File folder. Whatever. What the, the lady gave us to look at, my mom and me… it, like, said you were adopted when you were five.”

“Yep. I was in foster care before that.” Danny shrugs, folding his hands together, elbows on his thighs as he bends over, trying to read her face. He’s good at reading the mood of a room - he had to be, for years being able to read Abraham’s mood had been his only shot at lessening the pain he might be in. “You liked the idea of me being adopted?”

“I liked that you… you can tell her. You understand being adopted. You’re just the only one… you were the only person we looked at who I just thought could, um, like, tell her that it’s… it’s not her fault she was born.” Marie’s voice dropped into a whisper. Danny watched the tears welling up in her eyes, and suddenly he understood, all at once, the other reason he and Nate had been chosen. “It’s not her fault that she was, was fucking born... it’s mine.”

Danny lets the silence draw out between them, and then he reaches out with one rough, scarred hand to take hers. She grips onto him painfully tightly, but he doesn’t flinch - he can take this kind of pain, this is nothing, not when you’ve had your back carved up for hours kneeling in the dirt - and he keeps his eyes carefully on hers.

He doesn’t touch other people very often, but he understands, now, that Marie West doesn’t want to touch other people anymore, either, and for a very similar reason.

“You were r-raped,” He says, softly. It took him so long to say it out loud - for months after it was all over he still referred to what Abraham did as sex, as if it were normal, because Abraham had told him again and again - it was one of his rules - you can’t rape the puppy. He shudders against the memory, pushing it down, because… because this moment, in this hospital room, isn’t about him. “That’s why you liked us. Because.. Because I was, too. You were, um… you were raped. Like me.”

“N-not, like, like you,” Marie says, her voice bubbling and breaking with the tears that she is fighting like hell to hold back. He wants to tell her to cry, to sob her heart out, that he can sit here with her in silence and be someone who understands the need… but he knows just as much that she needs to not cry, that she’s been crying for months without stopping, that she just wants to be able to stop. “He w-wasn’t a stranger, he was, was my… my boyfriend.”

Danny nods, and he moves his other hand to hold onto hers, too, and they sit there in silence while she sniffs back the tears that try to escape, setting her jaw with grim determination as she fights them back inside of herself.

“We dated for, like, six months,” She says softly, almost hoarsely. “Then, one night… and I don’t know, I just, I was scared because he got so mad and I went along with it. And then we, we just kept… I never really, you know, he would get so mad I didn’t want to say no, and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Danny whispers, with real ferocity. Her eyes go to his, and he looks right in her warm brown eyes, knowing that his own have turned to something like a cold, cold ocean blue. “Listen to me. It doesn’t matter, it took me a long t-time to, um, to understand it, but it doesn’t matter if you can say no. Not saying no isn’t the same as saying yes, Marie, okay?”

She nods, sort of rapidly, her shoulders sagging. She pulls her hands back and Danny lets go quickly, his own skin crawling with touching other people, but he ignores the feeling for now. “Did you learn th-that in therapy?” She asks with a wry smile, watery and unconvincing, but there. “I have to go to therapy now, my mom takes me.”

“I did learn that in therapy. I have… I have a good therapist. She’s about to retire, I just…” He shrugs a little. “I learned a lot from her. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to do this, to have a baby, if I hadn’t gone to her.”

“I don’t want this baby,” Marie whispers, with the air of someone confessing a sin. “I don’t want her. I know she’s, it’s not her fault, and my mom thinks she’s cute, but I don’t… I don’t want his baby. You’re supposed to want babies, when you’re pregnant, but it just felt like this thing kept growing - like I had a monster inside of me - and I didn’t want it because it came from him, and I don’t… I wanted to find someone who would want, um, want her. Because it’s not her fault.” Marie rested one hand over her stomach, lightly rounded but already slowly growing less and less, day by day. “It was… it was mine.”

“It wasn’t,” Danny says, gently but firmly. “It’s not your fault. It��s not hers, sure, but it’s not, um, it’s not yours either. It’s not our fault, what happened to us. Okay?”

She looks over at him - just for a second, before her eyes skip away again. “That’s why I picked you,” She says, her voice evening out again, the tears drying as quickly as they came. Pushed deep within herself, to wait until the next breakdown, the next moment when it was all too much, too soon. “Because you, um, you know. My mom recognized you from when you were in the news, and I looked you up online and realized… she wanted me to pick someone else, kind of? But I, I just… I just thought… th-there’s nobody better for that, that baby than someone who can tell her… someone who can tell her that it’s not her fault, and that someone loves her.” Her lips pressed together, guilty and miserable. “I can’t.”

“I get that. My birthmom couldn’t, either. Thanks for telling me.” He smiles at her, encouragingly, and she manages another smile in his direction before she lays back against the pillows, picking up the remote to turn on the TV. They sit there in silence for a while.

Just when Danny has started to consider going to find Nate and Marie’s mother, she speaks again. “You have to want her, though. It’s not her fault that she was born, and you have to want her because I can’t.”

“I do,” Danny says softly. “I want her so badly, Marie. I have, I have a name picked out and everything. We… we picked our names months ago actually, before anyone chose us. We sat around talking about it for, um, for weeks and weeks… it was funny to, to talk about it and there not actually be a baby… and then we decorated the nursery but, you know, we had to talk about what if you decided to keep her and we just… had this nursery sitting around our house-”

“I won’t change my mind.” Marie shook her head. “Everyone keeps asking. I won’t. I want you to have her. I want you to, to tell her that someone loves her.”

“I will,” Danny says gently. He moves from the chair to sit on the side of the bed, just slightly resting on it with his legs off to the side and feet on the floor. Marie doesn’t look at him right away, but the set of her jaw starts to waver again. “I will, Marie, I promise. I’ll tell her every fucking day how loved and wanted she is. I… I wasn’t… I wasn’t wanted, by my parents. I wasn’t adopted because they wanted me. And I’m not ever going to do that to a kid, okay?”

“Okay.” Marie says it softly, but the strain is in her voice again. “Okay, okay. Okay. Good.”

“If you want to meet her,” Danny says gently, “We would be happy to fly down here again-”

“I won’t.”

“If you ever do. I’m going to leave all our contact info with your mom, and if you want to see her… please, Marie. This is your baby, too-”

She shakes her head rapidly, her hair flying out around her, and Danny realizes her hands are gripped onto each other so tightly she’s pressed ash-pale divots into her brown skin. “She’s not. She’s, she’s his baby.”

“Okay. I won’t push. Just know that the option is there, if you change your mind.”

She nods again, once more, curt, still not looking at him. Danny wonders, to himself, if his own mother was given a conversation like this before the state took him away. If his birthmother, barely a teenager and recovering from surgery, had been told she could see her son if she wanted and said, no, I won’t, he’s not mine.

“I’m sorry,” Danny says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you’ve spent… this whole time getting, um, getting pressured about it. I’ll go now.”

Before he can get up, she reaches out to grab him - it’s an all-at-once movement he nearly flinches back from, and a low deep voice in his mind says never flinch or pull away from Abraham in an echo he’s nearly broken but can’t quite shake. She hisses - it has to ache, moving like that so soon after having a baby, he knows it has to hurt to do what she’s done, and to do it knowing she won’t even bring the baby home afterwards.

“Please tell her I’m sorry,” Marie says, and her voice is choked as she pulls Danny down into a hug. He doesn’t pull back, his skin crawls but he holds onto her tightly, sliding his long arms around behind her thin hospital gown, pulling her as close to him as he can. Her head falls against his shoulder and she starts to sob, muffled sounds into his sweater - even in Texas, Danny is always cold and thinks maybe he’ll never not be cold again.

He holds her while she cries, and he doesn’t say anything, but he can feel in her that she doesn’t want him to speak. She just wants there to be someone to cry with, someone who has been there, someone who knows.

“J-Just tell her I’m, I’m so sorry, I c-couldn’t, pl-please tell her I couldn’t-”

“I will,” Danny says gently, rocking back and forth a little. What Nate does for him when he cries, when he is overwhelmed by the lost time and the horror that happened, the things he saw and felt and experienced weighing him down. The way Nate rocks with him when his back hurts so badly he can’t move, when his ribs ache with every breath. “I’ll tell her every day she is loved, and wanted, and that you were so fucking strong for her.”

“St-strong would be t-t-taking her home,” Marie says, in a voice like a guilty whimper.

Danny tightens his arms around her. “No,” He says softly, but firmly. “Strong is making the choice you have to make, to keep going, for the both of you. Strong is doing what you have to do to stay alive, to survive.” He is talking to Marie West, a fifteen-year-old girl in Texas who is giving him a baby… but he’s talking to a thirteen-year-old girl thirty years ago, too, a little girl who maybe turned her face away from the tiny premature redheaded newborn they showed her and said I can’t, I can’t, I don’t want to.

He is talking, as well, to a twenty-two year old man crying as he begs for mercy that isn’t coming, that Abraham Denner never had it in him to give.

“You’re strong,” He says out loud, to her and to his birthmother and to himself. To everyone like them, to everyone who had to make the hard choices they’ve made to keep moving when it would have been easier, maybe, to give up. “You have to survive for yourself, too. I’m so, so grateful you’re doing this, but I’m so sorry this happened to you. When I tell her about you, I’m going to tell her that you had to be so fucking strong when you shouldn’t have had to be strong, I’m going to tell her that you did what you had to do to give her the family you wanted for her, I’m going to tell her that she is the most loved and wanted little girl in the world. I know you don’t want to keep her, and you think that means you don’t love her-”

“I don’t, I don’t want her, I don’t want her and I’m supposed to want my baby,” Marie half-wails, fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweater, holding tightly. “But I don’t, I don’t, and I’m supposed to and I don’t…”

He hears shuffling steps outside, low voices, one of them Nate’s. He glances up to see Marie’s mother in the doorway, a hand over her mouth, Nate’s hand over her arm to keep her from moving inside.

“Sssshhhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You don’t have to, okay? Wanting a baby isn’t a switch that turns on, not like this.” He thinks he should kiss the top of her head, some kind of parental something, but he can’t. His skin half-burns with what it feels like to be touched without it being his idea, but he forces back the sick flip of his stomach, the sense that his control over himself is being undone, and he focuses instead on the simple fact that Marie West is hurting, and he can help her. “It’s okay. We’re going to take her home, and Nate wants to be Dad, we already decided - and I’ll be Daddy. And if you ever, ever want to see her, Marie, you’re still Mommy. Okay? And if you don’t want to be ever, that’s okay, too, it’s your choice. You decide who you are, not that guy who hurt you, not your mom or your dad, not us. You decide. You get to decide who you are, after all of this, after you survive.”

Marie nods against him, sniffling, and her sobs start to fade, to come back under control. “Oh my god,” She mutters without raising her head. “Oh my god, the fucking hormones or something, I’m so sorry, I’m crying with a fucking stranger, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“No problem.” He pats at her back, then rubs in a soothing circle. “If you want to call and talk to me about… about the thing with that guy, I’d be happy to. Whatever you need, Marie. We’re here, and we, um, we know… we know a little bit about it. Not, not the way it happened to you, but-”

“Do you ever stop feeling like it’s your fault it happened?” Marie asks, in a whisper.

Danny hopes her mother can’t hear it.

He leans down to whisper back, curled around her. “It took a while. But sometimes… sometimes I go whole weeks where I remember, the whole time, that it wasn’t. And you’ll get that, too. Okay? You’ll get there. It takes a while, and it takes therapy and I take some pills, too, but… but you’ll get there. One day you’ll wake up, and you’ll get halfway through the day and realize you haven’t thought about him at all.”

“Y-you… you promise?”

“I promise.” He holds her for another few seconds, glancing up at her mother with a slight smile. Nate raises his eyebrows in question, and Danny holds up one finger - just a second. “I promise, Marie. I absolutely swear it.”

She nods again, and slowly pulls back, wiping at her eyes almost frantically. He notices, for the first time, pretty gold stud earrings in her ears, and a small gold hoop up in the shell of her ear on one side. “Um. Can I… can I ask you something? I mean, that’s ridiculous when I just cried on you, b-but… can I… ask something?”

Danny steels himself - people are always asking can I ask you something? And the questions get worse and more invasive each time, wondering did he ever do anything that felt good and do you miss him and what was it like to have someone break your arm on purpose or his personal current absolute least-favorite, do you ever think about how if you hadn’t gone over to your friend’s house, none of it would have happened? Do you think maybe you could have done something different to make it end faster?

“Yeah,” He says softly, when he’s ready. “Go ahead.”

She licks at her lips - dry and cracked, a little chapped - and then asks, hesitantly, “What’s the name?”

“What?” He blinks, thrown totally off-guard.

“Y-you said you guys already talked about names… what, um, what name did you pick for her? For your baby.” She subtly emphasizes the your - more for herself than for him, Danny thinks. Her eyes slip over to the infant, still sleeping peacefully in her crib, making the occasional low contented grunt.

“Oh.” Danny feels relief like a wave, nearly knocking him off the hospital bed. “Oh. Yeah, sure, I’ll… sure. We want to call her Mina Nicole. After, um, after a book I like… a character in a book I like. And Nicole was Nate’s mom’s name.”

“Which name does she get? Yours or his?”

“His,” Danny says firmly. “I don’t care about my name. My brother can give it to his kids.”

“Oh, shit. Hit on a sore spot,” Marie says softly, and laughs - her laugh is low and soft, and absolutely beautiful. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay. Mina Nicole Vandrum.”

She repeats the name, in a soft wondering voice, then looks back at the baby. “She looks like a Mina Vandrum, I think. It’s, I like… I like the name you picked. Um. You’ll be a good dad, I think, Mr. Michaelson-”

“Danny. Just… just Danny, please.”

“Okay. Danny. Thanks for… for all that.” She waved her hand vaguely, and then settled back against the pillows. Just as she settled in, her mother sweeps into the room, making plenty of noise to seem like she’d only just walked up rather than been watching in the door.

“Marie! Brought you your coffee. I figure you don’t need decaf if you’re not going to be breastfeeding, anyway.”

“Mom, you never let me have coffee,” Marie says, surprised, as she takes the cup from her mother’s hands. “Thanks. What’s… why-”

“You’re doing a real grown-up thing, and you’ve had a real shit few grownup months,” Marie’s mother says gently, reaching out to tuck a bit of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to begrudge you a cup of damn coffee, babygirl.”

Marie’s eyes well up again, but she nods, swallowing back her tears. “Th-thanks, Mom.”

There is a moment where mother and daughter look at each other, and Danny sees the child in the teenager, desperate for the first voice she ever heard to still be there to stand between her and the monsters in the world - and in her mother, tired and maybe just as scared by all of this as Marie, the woman who, fifteen years earlier, had had her own baby to bring home.

A woman who, when she cradled the newborn Marie, could never have imagined having to be this kind of strong for her daughter, not like this, not so soon.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Danny says softly, and catches the look of gratitude Marie’s mom shoots him, as he pushes himself up and off the bed. “I’d like to talk to, um, to Nate out in the waiting room for a little while.”

“Do you want to take her?” Marie’s mother asks, nodding towards the infant in the little clear plastic rolling crib. “Out in the hall? I’d love to speak with my babygirl for a little bit.”

Danny nods quickly, trying not to look too eager as he moves to pick up the tiny little newborn - she hardly weighs a thing in his arms, as he slides one hand carefully under her head to keep it steady, so it won’t fall back. She doesn’t wake up, only smacks her lips a few times and settles right under his chin as he lays her against his chest.

She feels like she was always meant to be there, right against his heart.

“Grab a b-bottle,” Marie says softly, sipping her coffee. “She’ll want to eat.”

Being a mother doesn’t always mean raising the baby yourself, Danny wants to tell her, picking up one of the tiny little prepackaged bottles of newborn formula the nurses brought in. He wants to say that sometimes being the mother your baby needs is helping her build the family you want her to have, even if you’re not in the center of it. He wants to say, my mother gave me to the state and I found my family in the end, and Mina has her family and you’re still part of it, whatever part you want to play. You’ll survive this, and it’s going to be okay.

He’s not sure how to say it without tearing up himself. He hopes someone told his mother that, when she was so little, and scared, and had to be too strong too soon.

He carries Mina carefully to the door, stopping to kiss Nate before he moves into the hallway, listening to the noisy breathing of the newborn in his arms.

Marie’s mother steps up, gives Danny a slight smile, and closes the door to the room to give she and her daughter some privacy.

“Is she oh-okay?” Nate asks, softly. “M-Marie?” His voice is low, and deep, and Danny wants to wake up to this voice every day for the rest of his life.

“She will be,” Danny says softly. “She will. She likes the name, Nate. She likes the name Mina Nicole.”

As if she understood her name had been spoken, Mina shifts in his arms a little, and her wide dark eyes flutter slowly open and then close again.

“What did you t-t-talk about?” Nate and Danny amble down the hall, Nate reaching out occasionally to touch Mina’s soft soft hair, the back of her swaddling blanket. As if reminding himself that this - that all of this - was really happening, was real.

Danny shrugs a little, smiling down at his daughter.

“Just… that, that... it’s going to be okay.”

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geekgemsspooksandtoons · 4 years ago

Text

Bioshock Rebirth Timeline

This is a timeline of an AU I’ve had been developing for a long time now. I wanted to get this out there before I got on vacation. Where I’ll will be only able to use my phone to go on Tumblr. Be warned a long introduction.

Bioshock Rebirth is an AU that’s actually a reimagining of the Bioshock series. Basically a reboot of the series. But also in a strange way it’s a, “What If” scenario. The origins of this AU were quite strange and it became this one thing. Where I have admitted I went too far with how deep it was going. There was this passion and me trying to develop it(Such as imagining how it would work as a video game. Even though this is my story). Including I made some stories for it. Along with an ages chart of a lot of characters.

During development I was trying to understand what made Bioshock well Bioshock. Yet make something that seem plausible despite how I considered it insane in it’s early stages.

I’ve been so nervous and shy to share it with the Bioshock community on Tumblr. Because it’s complex, and I’m concerned of what the reactions would be to it. Especially some parts I feel like became quite dark. With this AU I have used elements and characters from the first three games. But the timeline is mainly mostly like Bioshock 1, 2, and taking things from the novel. Despite what some reactions were to that novel.

I looked into the timeline before Infinite made things more messy.

One of the origins for Rebirth it’s supposed to be a more hopeful version of Infinite. A contrast to that game’s ideals and whatever else. Including a weird way to explain how this timeline existed. Because of the incontinences and errors in Bioshock Infinite’s, “Burial At Sea” and the events of Infinite did something to the multiverse. Mainly in a way that despite how Ken Levine tried to erase Bioshock 2 out of canon. Basically, “Burial At Sea” destroyed the timeline and in a way caused a ripple. Thus resulting in a new timeline that is a neighbor to the main universe. A, “Reborn” version of the timeline. Where Rapture was created way later. When the Cold War was still going on.

But this, “Reborn” timeline was made into a more linear timeline. Where characters, and some events were reborn into a new reality. Meaning nearly every character from the first three games were, “Reborn” into one linear timeline. Where the floating city of Columbia isn’t a thing.

While that doesn’t make sense and it’s weird. What’s amazing that during development, some of my Bioshock jokes...became literal. Such as the, “Burial At Sea was a mistake” line. Yet I could say another funny reason was two entities fought over the universe of Bioshock. One being Ken and the other being GeekGem. But I don’t wanna get into that.

I guess you say I feel glad to see many Bioshock fans don’t like Burial At Sea(Especially Bioshock 2 fans) and how Ken wrote it along how he approached Infinite. Glad to see I’m not the only one. In a silly way....Rebirth is a middle finger to Ken trying to rework the timeline. Along with other reasons that it’s amazing I went so deep into this. Basically in retaliation to Burial At Sea, Rebirth was born.

I wanna thank my good friend @pikablob for encouraging me to share this. Because he was the first person where I revealed this in it’s early development stage. But there is one person I really wanna thank but they wish to remain anonymous. A person who had given me ideas and even asked if I could mention them. I am eternally grateful for them helping me develop ideas. Especially to hear from another Bioshock fan who didn’t like BAS and who seemed passionate about the series. Yet they were glad to see I was passionate about the games.

I’ve been concerned with how people would view this and may hate it. But overtime I feel like I made a, “Love Letter” to the Bioshock franchise. Despite some directions I went with. I really like these games, the characters, and this world they live in. Where I really tried to keep them in character as much as possible, how these characters would make sense in this timeline, thinking about the criticisms of Infinite, and other things.

I will admit before making this introduction. One character I wanted to include was Charles Milton Porter from Minerva’s Den. I decided to look into his story and the DLC’s story on the Bioshock wiki. Because this DLC was beloved by the community and I wanted to keep that character and his story intact. But I just wanna post this because I’m done keeping it as a draft. Yet I feel like wanna say compared to this main universe counterpart. Porter is most likely okay. So don’t worry about him. He’s probably still around and fine.

Be warned of spoilers from the Bioshock saga. Including as I am going to reveal the twist behind a character named Archie Wynand. Who’s creation and development process was a weird one. I’m sorry if there are some errors. Was fixing up some stuff before posting this.

1981: Rapture is first established on November 5th 1981. While the rest of the construction of the city is finished in late 1986. Rapture was made to escape the surface especially the affects of the Cold War going on between America and Russia. To make a utopia for the world’s greatest minds and artists.

1983: Earlier that year, Brigid Tenenbaum is welcomed to Rapture because of her status as, “The Wonder Child”. ADAM is finally discovered through the slugs by Brigid. But because of injecting a sample into a volunteer named Annabelle Dewitt, Annabelle dies giving birth and Elizabeth/Anna is born. The girl was unusually healthy that Andrew Ryan convinced a grieving Booker Dewitt to give his kid away for a better life. When in reality Andrew saw something in the girl. Along with Yi Suchong.

During one night, enraged by the loss of his wife. Booker invades Brigid’s apartment, tying and gagging her up with the intention to kill her. Accusing her of killing his wife. But he relents after seeing the woman cry and realizes violence isn’t gonna solve anything.

After this, Booker leaves Rapture without anyone noticing. Later down the line joining the CIA. But during his work in the CIA, being affected by the loss of his wife and giving away his daughter. Booker becomes some what of a apathic psychopath. Which creates a terrible reputation for himself.

Because of what happened with Annabelle, Brigid is turned away from many research facilities. But Frank Fontaine saw the value of her discovery and agreed to fund her research. Including during this, he and Tenenbaum are made aware of Elizabeth’s existence to study her growing up. Including later the Lutece Twins. Mainly to help study the girl. The reason Fontaine also involved with Tenenbaum because she was his employer.

During this process. Brigid gives Elizabeth the last name of Comstock. Because Ryan would feel disgusted if the girl shared the same last name as him.

1986: During the 80′s and 90′s. Elizabeth is placed into a building and her existence is kept a secret. Yet in 1986 when nearing a closing teleporter made by the twins. Her pinky finger is severed.

After this, because of her blood and what happened with the tear. She was able to gain the power to open tears. But because of this incident, her prison becomes less loose and more strict. Such as the twins creating a device to control the use of her powers. During this time, Yi Suchong creates the, “Proto Daddy” to keep her company as her guardian. Which Elizabeth nicknamed him, “Bluto”.

Elizabeth is kept as a secret in case for the possibility in case he hopes it never happens. If Rapture were to fall and soon taken over. Whether it be the, “Parasites” or someone else. Elizabeth is his secret weapon. If she were to be revealed now, Rapture as a society might collapse. Showcasing his lines of, “No gods or kings, only man” as just something he went against.

But in the tower, they keep her there and watch her as she grows up. With Andrew not calling her it instead of her, and Suchong studying her as well.

1988: Elizabeth was the inspiration for the Little Sisters. Which results in Frank Fontaine starting the Little Sisters orphanage.

Elizabeth is basically the, "Proto-Sister" of the Little Sisters.

1995: The UK’s Royal Navy deep sea diver, Sergeant Johnathan Gunnar AKA Johnny Topside finds Rapture by mistake but is captured. He is presumed dead by his government. Johnny is given the freedom to live unless he lives in Rapture which he does. Mainly due to his career as a diver. Now helping as a construction worker to keep the city from falling apart.

Eleanor Lamb is born to Sofia Lamb. Because of during one therapy session she got, ‘acquainted’ with a patient, and had sex while drunk. Sofia refuses to speak about it. Yet she finally has a daughter for her own purposes. The father is unknown at this point.

Because of this and the increase of the Rapture possibly being discovered. Andrew personally sets out to find a someone that has the skills but does not seem to care about anyone else. He finds Booker Dewitt who is now a ex CIA operative due to his increasing rage and violence over the years. The American government thought he was a disgrace.

Andrew see’s this as a opportunity and gives Booker some what of a 2nd chance. To be Andrew’s personal soldier. In case things go south where he may want Booker to take care of any problematic people who apposed Rapture.

Booker became Andrew Ryan’s personal Grim Reaper. With Andrew allowing him to wear a skull mask that looked like the jaws of an Angler Fish. To showcase fear to any of his enemies.

1997 to 1998: Jasmine becomes pregnant by Andrew Ryan. After discovering from the audio recordings of a surveillance device planted in Jasmine’s room. Using Tenenbaum as an intermediary, Fontaine offered to pay Jolene a large sum of money in exchange for the fetus of her unborn child, which he planned to nurture to become his "Ace In The Hole" in his schemes against Ryan. Brigid, Yi, and others were tasked with developing a young Jack Ryan.

The Alpha Big Daddy series is soon made. Inspired by the, “Proto Daddy”. To protect the Little Sisters from getting attacked from people who used ADAM too much. Who were called the Splicers.

Yi Suchong and Gil Alexander were involved in the making of the Alpha series.

Johnny Topside discovers the process about Jack. Including what Frank planned to use the child for.

Johnny risks his own life and future to give the boy a life. Fighting against Frank’s forces and even Andrew’s own men as they think he’s gone against Rapture. Even one time assaulting Yi once to rescue Jack from him.

Due to Brigid’s feeling regret of what she did to the Little Sisters. She secretly helps Johnny by making sure the, “Would you kindly” phrase doesn’t work or any other functions Frank would of used. Including to stop the sped up aging. This was done in a secret safehouse she would use later on. While a pair of twins secretly smuggle Jack out of Rapture. With giving the boy a new name Archie Wynand, a high school diploma, birth certificate, lots of money, and new memories showcasing that he had loving parents who disappeared in the ocean. To make sure he never wonders about Rapture. But also to make sure he is set for life.

The chain tattoos are covered up some how. During this time Jack was only 1 but physically 19 due to the experiments performed on him. Again feeling sympathy over the child and not wanting this to be his fate. Despite never raising a child before.

Johnny also tried to make sure nothing would lead back to Jasmine being Jack’s mother. Worried the woman would get killed if Andrew found out.

But after he is smuggled out by these twins, Johnny is caught. Angered by this, Frank tells Andrew that Johnny was gonna expose Rapture to the whole world. That Johnny finally lost it.

As punishment, Johnny is turned into an Alpha series Big Daddy named Subject Delta. Where his Plasmid testing and more is done by Sinclair.

Afterwards Andrew Ryan soon discovers what Frank was trying to cover up. That he was gonna use his own seed to turn against him. Including when he discovered Frank wanted to sell ADAM to the surface and would smuggle it.

This resulted in one last shootout which left Frank dead. Along with Andrew ordering Booker to show Frank no mercy. Many others thought Frank was dead. But it was all a set up for Frank to disguise himself as a new person named Atlas.

Surprisingly the concept of Atlas was also inspired by Johnny Topside himself. Despite Atlas would be of Irish decent and other things.

During late 1998, Atlas would soon start becoming a public figure to the poorer citizens of Rapture. Posing as a fisherman, proletariat hero, and a family man. To act as a humble freedom fighter to who would stand up to Ryan and his colleagues. Along with the bonus that Atlas was originally in the Irish Army for some time.

But because of what Johnny Topside did. Frank’s original, “Ace In The Hole” was gone. His original plan that was so perfect was ruined. His personal slave was lost and broken now. Now things have to start over.

Yet there was one last thing he could of used. Something he knew for a long time. Elizabeth, if he could use her for his own purposes. She was born with ADAM in her, and able to create these tears. He would become unstoppable. But now he has to take it slow and steady.

Because of her new found heart after what she did to the Little Sisters. Yet this also caused Frank to fire her earlier. Brigid wanted to help rescue the Little Sisters. Yet after her renunciation of the Little Sister orphanage. She was called a madwoman by the public and hid from the public eye.

She secretly has a safe house for any rescued Little Sisters. Which she has also made a living space for herself. Because living in her apartment would be considered too dangerous. But also because of her new found heart and living with the guilt for many years. Brigid feels responsible for Elizabeth’s predicament. Wanting to save and take care of her like she was with her little ones. Despite she can’t get to that tower now considering how well guarded she is. Along with Brigid’s reputation was destroyed at the time.

Throughout 1998 and to 2002. Because thinking his parents were gone. Archie was a loner and an introvert. He had no family to live with. Yet it was because of Johnny’s kindness and the memory that his thought to be dead parents left an lasting impact on him. Making Archie a tender and genuine kind person.

Archie joined the 75th Ranger Regiment in respect of his father and to help people in need. He joined in late 1998. Passing his testing and training with unseen excellence than other people. This was because of what the testing did to him as a child.

Because Frank wanted Jack to become the ultimate killing machine. To make sure when the time came, Jack would of been ready to take on Rapture when he activated him. Thus in a way making Jack some what of a living weapon.

Something that even his commanders were so shocked at his excellence that they questioned if he was human. With some of them being strangely terrified that he never showed attitude, never showed off, or anything that a normal rookie would of done. Nearly everyone treated with him respect despite their disbelief that any human can train like that.

When joining the US Army Rangers, this enhanced Archie’s status as a weapon. Thus making him even more of a force of nature. Reserving his extreme emotions but not becoming emotionless. At the age of 21, he became a sergeant.

Because of Johnny, Jack now as Archie became more than Frank would of ever done for him.

Archie became a force of nature. Unbreakable, raw, incorruptible, loyal to a fault, and unyielding. What was supposed to be a sleeper agent became a legitimate super soldier.

Yet despite all that. Archie was an outcast.

Despite Brigid trying to make sure his original programming didn’t work. If, “Would you kindly” was said to him. His head would start hurting. Almost like a migraine or headache. If the phrase was said more. His mindset would start getting worse. Starting to remember things and being confused of what’s going on.

Seeing things such as faces, including Andrew Ryan, Frank Fontaine, and other things.

The, “Code Yellow” command was still intact. Yet more raw now if it was mentioned. Because Yi and Fontaine only knew about it.

1998 to 2001: Atlas begins to start giving the poorer citizens of Rapture a voice. The tensions between the social classes begin to rise. Including with ADAM becoming more of a problem now due to addiction. Especially with later down the line Ryan nationalizing Fontaine Futuristics. Which causes Bill to resign. But afterwards, Atlas convinces Bill to join his rebellion in secret.

2000 to 2001: Sofia Lamb was arrested after Ryan finds out she is a Collectivist and spreading her beliefs to people in Rapture. Eleanor Lamb was put in the care of Grace Holloway. But after finding out Stanley Poole was a spy for Andrew Ryan. He had Eleanor kidnapped and turned into a Little Sister. She spent time in the Little Sister Orphanage and was under the care of Dr. Gil Alexander. She is later paired with Subject Delta. They form the first pair bond between Little Sister and Big Daddy.

Over time the pair bond between the Alpha series and Little Sisters worked too well. If a Little Sister were to die. The remaining Alpha Big Daddy would be left to be aggressive. Because of this, it was decided to go for a more generic, but versatile route for the protectors for the Little Sisters.

Which results in the creations of other Big Daddies such as the Bouncer and Rosie models. That were still construction workers. But now having to protect a Little Sister. The pairing process was different. With now adopting being a thing.

But also during this time. Sinclair started to realize the error of his ways and tried to better himself. Especially with Rapture slowly falling apart.

Charles Milton Porter is framed by Reed Wahl with a recording of Porter siding with Atlas. Porter comes up with a back up plan if he were to become a Big Daddy and manages to message Brigid before being taken away. Who was the only person Brigid could safely come into contact with because they are good friends.

2002: On New Year’s Eve, Atlas leads an attack that starts the Rapture Civil War. Which also scars Diane who after some time joins Atlas and his cause. Including Daisy Fitzroy joins as well. Becoming in a way Atlas’s 2nd in command.

Yet also during this, Sofia Lamb a month earlier escapes prison during an uprising. To finally get Eleanor away from Delta. Which she succeeds in doing so. Yet during this, Sofia discovers the original WYK plans and the experiments of speeding up a child's age. Which she plans to use on Eleanor and any Little Sisters she may catch. But for what she thinks is the common good.

But during this because he no longer has Jack. Frank no longer has a back up plan. Andrew is winning this civil war. The city is slowly falling apart. While some areas are still populated. Other parts of the city have gone dark. Making them a paradise for Splicers. Despite some Splicers and others would get into more better areas.

In June 2002, Atlas becomes desperate that he decides to make a distress call to the surface. His plan is to trick anyone that would come into helping him into rescuing Elizabeth and taking over Rapture. With making false promises to call the US government to take in Andrew Ryan and anything else.

In Georgia, the Army Rangers get the distress call and are deployed quickly. When their aircraft gets near the location. They are confused it’s in the middle of the ocean but there’s a mysterious lighthouse.

Seeing this, Andrew fires down the aircraft using a special heat seeking missile that can be fired from the city. This causes the aircraft to crash and there is only one survivor.

Surprisingly for Atlas and others by chance. That survivor was his original, “Ace In The Hole” Jack. Now known as Sergeant Archie Wynand.

The story of Bioshock Rebirth happens. Which results in Archie finding out who he really is. Along with other things. Leading up to Archie killing a half ADAM powered Atlas/Frank Fontaine by stabbing him in the chest with a syringe to suck the ADAM out of him. Then hanging him from a roof. Ultimately killing Effectively ending the Rapture Civil War once and for all.

During this, Sofia’s influence becomes stronger. With, “The Rapture Family” slowly rising in power and to make Eleanor, “The People’s Daughter”. As of now because of the sped up aging, Eleanor is 17 years old.

After the events of Bioshock Rebirth. The Vox Populi are formed. A reformation of what Atlas had done.

Two months later in August 2002.

Rapture is in a better state. With the Vox trying to make it in a better place to live in. With a community that would help each other. But Andrew Ryan has gone into hiding and is nowhere to be found. While the Vox led by Daisy Fitzroy and Bill Mcdonagh try to capture and find certain people in Rapture to emprison them. Such as Yi Suchong, Booker Dewitt, Sander Cohen, and whoever else considered to be a criminal that doesn’t wanna change.

Including during these events, Subject Delta is brought back to life by Eleanor through the help of the Little Sisters. With also Eleanor contacting Brigid to help aid in undoing the psychological conditioning imprinted imprinted in Delta’s mind when he was a Big Daddy. The plan works well and Delta meets Brigid and others.

Soon, Sofia does a hostile takeover a Rapture. With, “The Rapture Family” and the, “Vox Populi” going to war. But the Big Sisters turn the tide of it. With the Vox’s secret weapons being Sgt. Archie Wynand, Elizabeth Comstock, and Subject Delta.

Sofia demonizes Delta but also calling Archie, “The Demon Of Rapture” because of his actions and his own birth. Because most people in Rapture know of his existence as, “The Prodigal Son”. Sofia worries Archie may influence Eleanor. But realizes later on, it’s Delta she needs to worry about.

Sofia has the support of Grace Holloway(Who then joins the Vox after realizing who Archie really is and seeing Delta isn’t a monster), Stanley Poole, Gil Alexander(Who is now possibly Alex The Great), but also Ava Tate. A seductive woman who made propaganda films for Andrew Ryan. Along with being one of Sander Cohen’s colleagues. But also Sofia’s right hand woman.

But because of Sofia’s hostile takeover. Because of the old programming. Archie starts seeing hallucinations of Atlas using his Irish accent. Haunting the young man and trying to get him to certain things. Such as killing Suchong and Sofia Lamb when he shouldn’t. Or other things that weren’t exactly right.

This is because the PTSD is finally catching up to Archie.

During this because Little Sisters were running low. A Big Sister was able to go to the sister and take some girls away from the surface. Which leads a man named Mark Meltzer to search for his daughter. But also the surface possibly may try to search for Rapture. Considering now little girls who going missing.

After a exhausting journey to get Eleanor back. Because of Delta’s kindness to not kill but save the Big Sisters. When they sense him being in danger after Sofia suffocates Eleanor. They come back and attack Sofia’s base of operations. Saving Elizabeth, Brigid, Daisy, other Little Sisters, Archie, Delta, and Eleanor.

Even after everything she’s done and Rapture being almost revealed to the surface. Eleanor lets Sofia live so can begin a long road of redemption. Despite how others may look at it differently. Delta lives, and Archie with the help of Elizabeth, Brigid, and even Eleanor and Delta. The Atlas hallucination that has been haunting him is gone that week is gone.

A week after the events. They manage to find Subject Sigma and help him get back the Thinker from Reed Wahl. With Subject Sigma finding out he was Charles Milton Porter and later on letting go of his late wife Pearl. With Porter being turned back to normal. While Delta is a tricky situation.

It is likely afterwards. Despite helping Rapture becoming a livable place again. Archie and others may of gone back to the surface for a while. But they can visit Rapture still.

But during the ending part of the Rapture Family vs the Vox Populi. Ava Tate had escaped to the surface. While Stanley Poole was later killed by Booker Dewitt.

#bioshock #bioshock rebirth #bioshock au #archie wynand

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 5 years ago

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@thecorteztwins

I wound up writing a little thing based on those panels you showed me of villains “rehabilitating” (but actually being mind-controlled) at Clear Mountain Center in X-Men 92. This was meant to be a funny story about Fabian in rehab learning how to talk to women, but it got a little disturbing because of the mind-control aspect, and also Avalanche tells a grim little story about baby murder, so warnings for that. But now I’m really tempted to write something about Haven taking the place over and actually Doing It Right.

“So,” Fabian began, speaking in the halting tones of someone attempting to wrap his mind around a difficult concept. “You’re saying you’re not attracted to me?”

“Not in the slightest,” said Tabitha Smith, the mutant known as Boomer (and also Time Bomb, Boom-boom, Meltdown, and whatever other code-name caught her fancy). Her tone was firm, but she smiled at him, as if to soften the blow. “I mean, you’re obviously good-looking, just not my type.”

“Oh, of course, you prefer women. I understand. I am open-minded about such things –“

“Nooooo…..” Boomer cut in, with some slight irritation creeping into her voice. “I’m mostly into guys. Just different types of guys.” Fabian thought hard. He was tempted to spread his legs out wider, to give her a better look at what she was rejecting, but he’d gotten enough tiny power-bombs to the crotch to learn that that was a bad idea. (The low-powered bombs did no real damage, but they certainly stung.)

“I get it, I get it. You are holding yourself back. You are maintaining a professional relationship because you are my counselor.”

“No!” Boomer held her head in her hands for a moment, sighing. “Look, not every woman will find you attractive, okay? Everyone has different preferences. Like, people think Leonard Decaprio is super-hot, and he just doesn’t do anything for me, I’m more of a Brad Pitt girl. It’s not something you need to feel bad about, it doesn’t mean you’re like, ugly, or anything like that.”

Fabian’s mind whirled. This girl was young, beautiful, a powerful mutant, and had showed him such kindness as his mentor. She had a surprising amount of wisdom underneath her shallow and flippant demeanor. And yet, her judgement was so unsound. Perhaps she had some kind of psychological condition, like a strange form of face-blindness? But then, Fabian had been learning to accept many ideas that had previously seemed impossible. The idea of living with the humans in peace. The idea of answering hatred with understanding, not violence. The idea that he should treat others with kindness and respect, instead using them as stepping stones in his quest for status and power.

“Very well,” Fabian began again. It was difficult to force the words out. “I…accept that you do not find me attractive. I….accept that some people…..may….not find me attractive. After all, there are many different preferences in this world.”

“Yeah, dude, exactly. It’s like…some people like Cool Ranch Doritos? And some people prefer Nacho Cheese. There’s no right or wrong, except for the people who like Funyuns, because that shit is nasty.” Fabian wanted to roll at his eyes at her rather low class tastes, but instead he found himself laughing good-naturedly.

“Ha, ha, yes, that is a funny joke,” he said, beaming. It was strange. His mind felt so….slow. Like there was this weight pressing down in it. But at the same time, it was oddly pleasant. A bit like Anne Marie’s more enthusiastic hugs, which always threatened to break the recipient’s back.

“In Spain we have jamon flavored potato chips. Perhaps you would find them interesting to try. I will bring some back the next time I visit home.” He did not add that he had never eaten those chips, they were junk food for peasants, but if this girl found them enjoyable, he would indulge her. It was a nice thing to do, and he found that he wanted to be nice lately. He didn’t entirely understand why.

“Oh dude, that would be amazing!” Boomer exclaimed. “I love trying junk food from other countries. There’s so much cool stuff out there. Did you know that they have, like, a whole ton of Kit-Kat flavors in Japan?”

I don’t care, Fabian wanted to say. I spent my time in Japan eating Kobe beef and blue-fin tuna, not wasting my money on cheap candy.

“No, I didn’t know that,” he said aloud instead. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t intended to sound so interested, but his mouth and brain did not seem properly connected. The pleasant feeling hung over him, almost suffocating.

“OMG, there are like, so many! There’s strawberry, and sweet potato, and soy sauce, and wasabi – which is like, better than you’d expect – and sake, and…”

Fabian wanted to tell her to stop prattling, but he couldn’t quite find the words. He looked around the outdoor area while she rambled on. There was Blob pruning rhododendron bushes with Storm, the blossoms tiny in his huge, clumsy hands.

“….and blueberry cheesecake, and apple pie, and brown sugar syrup, and cantaloupe which sounds totally disgusting but apparently it’s pretty good, and…”

The Kleinstock brothers and Frenzy were tossing a Frisbee around with Feral and Cannonball, while Vertigo and Arclight were playing scrabble with Polaris and Multiple Man. Ruckus was strumming a guitar, pausing occasionally to sweep his hair back dramatically, and clearly looking around for an audience. Ugh, he was singing “One Tin Soldier.” Fabian hated that song. Fabian hated……a lot of things that were happening at that moment.

“….and maple, and pumpkin, and chestnut, and green tea, and Tokyo Banana, because apparently that’s a thing, and..”

He hated listening to this stupid girl spew out every thought in her empty brain. He hated sitting in group therapy and listening to the peons that he shared the facility with whining about their inconsequential problems. He hated having to hug people. He hated being stuck in this adult daycare while he should be leading his Acolytes to victory against humankind (and racking up a few kill points for the Upstarts while he was at it.) Something in his mind was breaking free.

“Enough!” he snapped, jumping to his feet. “This isn’t right! I shouldn’t be here!” Boomer paused in her Kit-Kat flavor recital.

“Whoa, dude. Chill out. You need a time-out, or something? Maybe you need some time in the Angry Room.”

“No, I do not need some time in the Angry Room,” Fabian snarled. “I don’t belong here with the rest of these losers, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m….I’m so much better than the rest of you. I’m practically a god! I should be….should be –“ His eyebrow twitched. His body shuddered, and a fixed grin came over his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying things like that. What am I thinking? We’re all special in our own way. I just want us all to be friends,” Fabian continued. A single tear leaked out of one corner of his eye.

“Hey, good job, man,” said Boomer, patting him on the shoulder. “You recognized a negative thought pattern, and then, like, stopped it. That totally deserves a Hershey Kiss.” She tossed him the silver wrapped chocolate.

“Thank you.” Fabian shuddered again, and then his body seemed to relax, his tense smile softening into one that seemed genuine, if a bit dazed. “I like Hershey Kisses.”

“Don’t we all, buddy.”

“They are good,” Fabian continued, pulling the foil off and popping the chocolate in his mouth absent-mindedly. “This place is a good place. We are all good here.”

At the table, another group was mid-way through a fairly intense game of Uno. Most of the group (X-Men included), would have preferred poker, but apparently that wasn’t wholesome enough the rehabilitation process.

“I’m just saying, we didn’t start the war.” Avalanche slapped down a card, perhaps slightly too hard. “Humans want to stomp out anyone who’s different. That’s the whole damn history of the human race.”

“But nothing will change if we continue the cycle of violence,” argued Colossus.

“We must ‘turn the other cheek,’” agreed Nightcrawler. “Send out a message of peace and love.” He betrayed that sentiment by tossing down a Draw Four card.

“Yeah, and the guy that did that got nailed to a cross, didn’t he?” Avalanche retorted. “Didn’t work out so well for him.”

“You can’t be expecting us to imitate Christ, can ya?” Pyro put in, throwing a Reverse on the stack. “He was all flawless and perfect and ‘ineffable,’ right? And he had a get-out-of-death-free card. We ain’t got that.”

“You could have that, by the Grace of God –“ Nightcrawler began, than stopped, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, this is not the right place for that conversation. I know religion is very personal, and everyone must make their own choices. But I will talk about it with any of you privately, if you want.”

“All I’m saying is, humans have tried to bloody kill us,” Pyro continued. “Are we supposed to just lie down and take it? I’ve had people turn on me, even back before the Brotherhood, before I committed any crimes. People that I thought I could trust.” The cards in his hand crumpled as his fist clenched.

“Humans are fucking brutal. I’ve seen…..” Avalanche shook his head. “There was a woman back on Kalymnos, gave birth to a baby with gills. Nothing wrong with the kid otherwise, it was just a cute baby. But people acted like it was the damn anti-Christ. Her husband moved out and wouldn’t have anything to do with her. And one day….” A slight tremor rippled across the table as he continued. “One day some guy just snatched the baby out of her arms and threw it down on the rocks. I’ll never forget how she screamed. And nothing ever happened to the guy. He was a murderer, and the police did nothing. Everyone just pretended that it never happened –“ The table shook visibly now, the vibrations spreading out into the ground around them.

“Tovarish, please calm down. I understand how that memory must pain you, but –“

The vibrations suddenly stopped. For a moment, Avalanche looked confused, then a dull smile spread across his face.

“I’m sorry, friends. I just get upset sometimes, thinking about that. I shouldn’t dwell on such horrible memories.”

“Yes, we should just think about good things,” Pyro agreed, wearing the same sickly smile. “We are in a good place. We are all good here.”

Sitting in the sun on the roof, Toad wrapped his arms around himself, smiling. He felt….good. For the first time that he could remember, he was entirely at peace with himself. He wasn’t plagued with anxiety at every social interaction, waiting for the inevitable rejection, wasn’t miserable when he looked into the mirror. No more flashbacks or sudden fits of sadness or anger. He woke up and was actually eager to get out of bed in the morning, eager for a day that he knew would bring good things. And people were actually being nice to him! There was no superficial politeness or poorly hidden disgust, no cheap pity. Just genuine kindness. His counselors and the other former super-villains actually seemed glad to see him every day.

Of course, sometimes it felt too good to be true. Sometimes he would look around and everything would feel slightly off, like one of those hyper-realistic dreams where you can only tell that you’re dreaming because something in your room is out of place. He felt like he was constantly wrapped in a blanket of warm air, and it was so good and comforting, but it made him dull and sleepy. (Perhaps this was what being drunk was supposed to be like? For the normal people? When Toad tried alcohol, it only seemed to make him sad.) Things were very hazy, and it was hard to put his thoughts together. But that didn’t matter, did it? Because finally he was safe and happy, and everyone was so nice.

“This is a good place,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “We are all good here.”

#fabian cortez #dominic petros #avalanche #pyro #st. john allerdyce #toad #mortimer toynbee

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king-cotton-candy · 5 years ago

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Chapter 3: Her Choice

(A/N: Hey y’all. I feel like today’s gonna be a long day, so I’m probably going to post more than one chapter today? I’m very broken right now and can’t draw because my arm is sunburnt to a crisp and it’s hurting me a lot. Anywhoozle, please enjoy, umm, feel free to cry, cuz like this is kind of an emotional chapter. Lol like the other two weren’t haha good joke. There’s major DJWifi in this chapter haha so like I guess enjoy that too)

I know those who are reading this are probably a little confused as to what’s happening, so I’ll do my best to explain it, even though I wasn’t there. The doctor had filled everyone in that Marinette was going to be able to walk in a couple of months, which was quite literally miraculous, if you get what I’m saying. The surgery, in lamemens terms, was mainly just the surgeons screwing and gluing everything back together so that everything would heal properly. All of Marinette’s ribs were broken, and even though she should’ve broken her spine as well, she just broke her left femur and both of her arms. She would have bruised organs, but nothing worse than that internally. She would definitely be in a whole lot of pain the next two or three months, but it amazed the doctors that she even made it to the hospital alive.

Now, Alya and Nino were dozing in the chairs that were by Marinette’s bedside. Sabine and Tom were still speaking with a doctor about the injuries their daughter had sustained, and what physical therapy she would need to take to get her back to walking. The worst of the morning was over, now they all just had to get through the rest of the day. The Dupain-Chengs closed the bakery for the day. It was a given that they were taking the day off from people so that they could be with their daughter. Alya and Nino had already called their parents to let them know what went down and where they were.

It looked like things could only get better from there. A wise man once said, “the nice thing about hitting rock bottom is that the only place left to go is up.” I honestly couldn’t agree more. Although, it could’ve been so much worse for Marinette, and we’re all thankful that it wasn’t. None of us could even imagine what it would be like without her. Marinette, the confident, creative, and very, very intelligent girl that practically every guy in the school fell for at some point. Marinette, the absolutely brave and bold girl who would stand up to the typical school bullies, even if the bully was a snotty rich girl(not saying any names). Marinette… she was going to make it, and she was going to come back stronger than ever!

Alya woke up with a start, her heart racing. “Marinette-!”

With a quick glance around the white room, her memories came flooding back. Alya sighed with what could be called relief, but she didn’t actually feel relieved. Her best friend had tried to end her life four hours earlier and she was still super shaken up. The only thing that could’ve made it worse would be if she’d seen Marinette jump. Scratch that. If Marinette had died, that would be worst. Alya knew that. She was so scared and she wished she could’ve been better for her friend. Alya felt like a failure. Marinette called her and asked her to talk her out of jumping, and Alya just couldn’t seem to do it.

“Babe..?” Nino grumbled, sitting up and straightening his glasses. “Are… are you okay?”

“Ye… yeah, Nino… I’m okay.” Alya forced a smile as she lied.

His eyes narrowed with concern. “Alya.”

“What, Nino?” She turned her head to look him in the eye, not realizing that she was crying.

“Are you okay?” He repeated, reaching his hand over to her face and wiping a tear from her cheek.

“I-I-” Alya stuttered, her vision blurring from her tears. “I-I almost l-l-lost my best friend, N-N-Nino!”

He winced, understanding written all over his face as he got down on his knees in front of her. “Alya, baby…”

“Wh-wh-what’s worse is that she-she wanted to die, Nino! I can’t imagine wh-what made her feel like she had to die!” Alya sobbed, biting down hard on her lip and trying to quiet herself.

“I know, babe, I know…” Nino wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s neck, trying his best to comfort her.

“Is it my fault..?” Alya whispered, trying to see through the tears. “Did she jump because… because I couldn’t talk her down..?”

Nino pulled away and glared into her eyes. “First of all, don’t you dare.”

“Wh… what?” She was taken aback by his angry tone.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. Ever. She made the decision to jump, Alya, you didn’t tell her to.” He declared, brushing some of her hair from her face. “And second, you are her best friend! I can’t imagine how much of an awesome best friend you are if she called you to talk her down! She trusts you!”

Alya scowled at the ground. “Trusted!”

“Stop. She trusts you enough to tell you that she wanted to jump. It doesn’t make all this your fault just because she jumped.” Nino gently pressed his forehead to hers, immediately calming her down.

“N-N-Nino…” Alya gripped tightly to his shirt, shaking violently with tears.

“Babe, look.” He lifted her chin so that they could meet eyes. “It’s not your fault, okay? You did an amazing job trying to talk her down.” She shook her head. “Trying, Nino! I tried, and I failed!”

“You also have never done that before! But look at how brave you were! How calm you stayed even though you knew she was in danger! If that were Adrien, and he called me, I know I’d probably freeze up like a coward! You held out for her even though you were scared.” Nino told her.

Alya sniffed, and with a weak laugh, she said, “... In no way was it a perfect first attempt to talk someone down from suicide.”

“Yeah, but it was a pretty dang good try.” Nino smiled softly, lifting his head to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The two laughed sadly to themselves, both trying to get a grip on the grim situation. It was rough, neither of them were going to deny that. But just because it was rough didn’t mean they weren’t going to get out of it. In fact, Nino’s positive thinking had Alya feeling better, even if it was only a little bit. Just the fact that he was there, sharing the burden with her, was more comforting than almost anything else in the world. They were going to get through this and it was going to get better. It felt like a guarantee.

First: https://king-cotton-candy.tumblr.com/post/186355804383/chapter-1-unexpected-jump

Previous: https://king-cotton-candy.tumblr.com/post/186390433493/chapter-2-luckier-than-ladybug

Next: https://king-cotton-candy.tumblr.com/post/186408092113/chapter-4-my-entrance

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dr0wning-in-hell · 6 years ago

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Return pt 2 - Steve Rogers

summary : Y/N has been returned to the Avengers Compound after being held captive by HYDRA for over a year. Steve blames himself for Y/N being on the brink of death and moving on when she was still out there. The team just waits for her to wake up, so they can help her recover.

word count : 2.5k+

warnings : angst, mentions of torture, mentions or rape, PTSD, anxiety, literally just angst, just a sprinkle of fluff

pairing / characters : Steve Rogers x reader, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, mentions of T’Challa and Shuri, Natasha Romanoff, mentions of Pepper Pots,

Prompt : “Steves dating the reader and they go missing, after a weeks of searching the team gives up and accepts that the reader is dead, Steve starts dating someone else, and then a year later on a mission, he finds the reader badly injured in a hydra base?? One shot, or if it’s easier in parts? I’ve asked quite a few people but it’s always nice to see different versions if people do this request more than once anyway 😂 “ - @thefandomplace

A/N : sorry it has taken me so long to write the second part to this! I really hope you all enjoy this! also this is kind of short, but like sad so yeah.

read the first part here

new masterlist | requests | prompt list

It had been days since Y/N was brought back to the Avengers Compound, and in those few days she had nearly died a total of three times. The first time was because of blood loss, and she reacted badly to the blood given to her. Second time was because of her broken ribs and them basically crushing her lungs and heart. The third time was because someone tripped over one of the many chords that was attached to her body. After the third time no one except doctors and nurses were allowed in her room.

Steve stayed outside, looking into her room from the glass. Every time he looked at her his heart broke and the guilt of leaving her there in that HYDRA facility ate away at him. He barely ate, barley drank anything or even slept. Everyone tried to get him something, tried to get him to rest, but he never did. He just stood and looked at Y/N, his eyes never leaving her. Tony had told Steve that because of the gunshot to Y/N’s spine, she would never be able to walk on her own again. Steve had asked him to call King T’Challa and his little sister so that they could bring their advanced technology, but Tony had already called the King of Wakanda and asked him about helping. The king said it might already be too late for their technology to heal her spine.

Y/N would never be able to walk again, never be able to run, never be able to do any of the things she used to love. She would never be able to be an Avenger again. Steve was furious. He let the love of his life go through so much pain, so much torment for a year. Steve had been through a lot, but nothing compared to the pain of knowing that Y/N was never going to be the same, happy girl that she used to be.

Later in the week Tony asked Wanda to see if she could look into Y/N’s memories, see what Y/N went through. Wanda said no at first, finding an intrusion of Y/N’s privacy, but the team had convinced her it was to know what they would be dealing with when Y/N woke. It seemed more like if Y/N was going to wake up at this point. Wanda had gone into Y/N’s room, carful to not disturb any of the chords that were stuck into Y/N as she placed her palm over Y/N’s head, the familiar red glow emitting from her hand.

Wanda never thought she would see so much horror and pain in her life. What Y/N went through was far worse than what her and her brother went though with HYDRA. She saw Y/N’s memories of being tortured, strapped down to a chair and slide with knives, experimented on and injected with a blue substance that Wanda had sworn she’d seen before, and she hadn’t even broken the surface of what she went through. Wanda saw the men raping her friend, leaving her helpless as they tied her body down to the dirty bed she was found on and then left there for days until they wanted to have their ‘fun’ with her again. By the time Wanda was done going through her friend’s memories she had a waterfall streaming down her face. She covered her mouth as she walked out of Y/N’s room, hands shaking.

“What did you see?” Natasha asked, standing and looking at the girl.

Wanda shook her head. “It- it was horrible. They did so many horrible things to her.” She breathed out, “I- she went through more than any of us ever had.” Wanda began to cry uncontrollably, the memories she just saw breaking her heart in half. Vision walked Wanda back to her room, holding the woman in his arms.

Everyone looked at one another, the grim expressions on their faces giving away just how bad this all truly was.

Steve hadn't said a thing as Wanda spoke about what he saw, knowing that what Y/N went though was horrible. Later that night the team had gone to their rooms to try and get some sleep, but Steve was just waiting till he knew they wouldn’t come back to Y/N’s room till the next morning. Steve opened up the glass door and walked into the room, walking around to the left side of Y/N’s bed. He took in her features, and frowned. She was so small. You could see her bones, her skin almost translucent. She had dark bruises covering her skin, and horrible looking scars everywhere. The sight made the Captain want to throw up.

Pulling up a chair, Steve sat next to Y/N, gently holding her frail hand in his large ones. “I’m so sorry.” Steve whispered, “I’m sorry I gave up on you. We- I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you.” Steve shook his head, salty tears fell down his cheeks and landed on his pants. “Please wake up, baby. Please, I can’t lose you again, I can not lose the love of my life again.” Steve sat with Y/N, sobbing as he held her hand. He just kept praying that she would wake up, that she would remember him.

A few minutes after crying Steve had fallen asleep in the chair, his head resting next to Y/N’s hand. His hand was still gently holding hers. It was odd for him to be so close to Y/N after not having her touch for so long, but it was so familiar it was like she was never gone. He knew she was though, and there was a difference in both of them now for that.

When morning came Steve was woken to a gentle movement under his hand. Steve’s head shot up, and he could was shocked to see that Y/N was trying to move her hand out from under his. Her eyes were slightly open, not enough to really see anything, but enough to see the outline of a man next to her. Y/N’s heart sped up along with her breathing. She was terrified of men after what happened at the HYDRA base. Having Steve next to her just triggered her memories and all the pain she went through.

“Y/N, hey it’s okay, it’s me.“ Steve tried to say. It didn't help the situation though. Y/N’s heart beat was getting to fast, and she was hyperventilating. The machines next to her started to beep loudly, gaining the attention of the doctors and nurses that were currently over looking Y/N. They all rushed in, looking at Steve with a somewhat angry expression.

“You need to leave.” One of the doctors spoke, “You're scaring her, please leave.” He said. Steve hesitated to leave. Was he really scaring Y/N? Was he now the cause of her pain? The soldier got up slowly and exited the room. Steve watched from outside the room as the male doctors tried to get close to her, but Y/N began to freak out again. The women were the only ones that could get near Y/N.

Tony had heard about what happened and asked for female doctors and nurses, that way Y/N would be at least a little bit calm when they had to go in and check on her. He tried to talk to Steve about what happened but all he did was ignore him.

Once Y/N had woken up the doctors had to tell her about her spine and that she would never be able to walk, run, or fight ever again. If Y/N’s mental stability could get any worse, it had at that moment when she heard those words. Y/N was still trying to adjust to everything around her. She may have only been gone for a year, but that one year felt like a lifetime to her. Having so many people trying to help her and make her feel better was new to her again, and she had to relearn what it felt like to be cared for.

When Y/N was told that she would have to go through a surgery to repair some of the damage to her spine she was not happy about it. The thought of being poked and pulled apart made her relive the worst time of her life. It took some convincing that she would be okay, that she wouldn’t go through what she went through at HYDRA. Once Y/N had agreed that scheduled the surgery the next day.

Y/N was scared to say the least. She had asked for Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper to be there with her when she went to surgery, and to be there when she woke up. Steve was hurt at the fact that she had asked for them and not him, but he understood why she had asked for only the girls and not any of the males.

The surgery had gone well, there were no complications that the surgeons had to go through, which made their jobs much easier. When Y/N had woken up she was told that if she ever wanted to walk again, she would have to go through extensive physical therapy and possibly more surgeries. After that she shut everyone out, just wanting to be alone so she could think about what she was going to do. In her mind, she felt it best if she just died. She was useless to the tam now, so what was even the point of her living?

Months after Y/N was brought back to the compound Y/N had to go to several therapists to talk about what she had been through. She didn't want to talk, she wanted to forget. Talking about what she went through meant remembering and reliving, and she definitely did not want to do either of those things. Y/N had also agreed to doing physical therapy, but other than doing that and going to her therapy sessions no one ever saw her leave her room.

Steve had tried to go to her room and check on her, but whenever he neared the door he could hear her crying and mumbling about what she had been through. He knew she still needed some healing, but he didn’t want her to go through it alone. He wanted to be there for her and help her but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get within five feet of her.

Y/N was slowly regaining the trust of men back, but it was hard for her to be around so many at one time. She had severe anxiety around males, and she had to have another female with her almost always. Usually it was Clint, Tony, or Vision that could talk to her without her being scared. Whenever Steve saw them talking to her he became angry because he wanted to be the one to comfort her.

It was early one morning when Y/N had woken up from a night terror, when she decided to wheel herself out of her room and to the main living area. It was around 4:00 a.m. on a Saturday, so she knew that no one would be up yet. Y/N looked out the window, looking out at the dark sky. She had always liked watching the stars disappear when the blue skies came around, she liked watching the clouds move with the wind. She liked the early mornings when it was peaceful. Thinking about the sky and looking out at the earth in front of her made her think of Steve and all those mornings when they’d stay up late and look out the windows or sit on the roof. They’d always look at the stars, trying to name as many constellations as possible. She missed him, more than she missed anything else. Whenever Y/N saw Steve walk past her room or heard him talking to one of the other Avengers she just wanted to get up and talk to him, but she couldn’t do either of those things.

Y/N was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed Steve walk up beside her. He was quiet, not saying anything as they both sat and looked out at the world.

“I heard what you said.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes gazing down at her hands. Steve looked down at Y/N, a bit confused. “When I first came back, I heard what you said about giving up on me, and thinking I was gone.”

Steve looked down. “I was a mess without you.” He mumbled. “I felt so alone without you here with me. God, I just kept praying that we would find you and when we had gone through the rest of the HYDRA bases and we didn’t find you, the last bit of hope I was holding onto just disappeared.” Steve turned his head and looked at Y/N. “I still love you, Y/N/N, I never stopped loving you.”

For the first time since Y/N had returned, she looked up at Steve, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “I never stopped loving you either. I always thought about you, you were the one thing that kept me going even when I wanted to die.” Steve’s heart clenched at the thought of Y/N actually dying in that hell hole, or even dying in general.

The soldier hesitated at first, but he reached his hand out and took Y/N’s hand in his own, giving a soft squeeze. “I’m here for you Y/N, whenever you need me, I’ll be right here.” He kissed Y/N’s knuckles, making her blush and smile at the blonde man.

Y/N had returned in horrible shape, but she was getting better, and now she had Steve again to help her through the pain. She returned and she sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

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sketcher-boy · 6 years ago

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Six days, six hours, and six minutes after the events of 'Strobelite', the Gorillaz join forces with Tank Girl and her crew to battle Pazuzu, who is trying to bring his army of darkness unto London in order to shape the world in his own image.

Stu ‘2-D’ Pot - The lovable idiot of the team. When the world started getting attacked by demons and otherworldly creatures, naturally 2-D began to panic and run around screaming like pretty much most of the populace, only seeing something like this in one of his old horror flicks. It didn’t help that in the first hour of the attack on London, he got separated from the rest of the band and ended up floating down the Westbourne River in a daze, where he ran into his cheating ex, Paula Cracker, taking refuge inside of a concealed tunnel by herself. Even though they had a checkered history, she was still kind enough to let him hide out down there, where they even started talking like they used to. As nice as it was to catch up, Stu knew that he couldn’t stick around for long, mainly because he wanted to make sure the rest of the band was alright. He unwittingly allowed Paula to tag along towards the center of London, where he ran into his four mates that he hadn’t seen since grade school. The six of them now sported the name, “Demon Danes”, and followed 2-D into battle.

Cortez - Murdoc’s pet raven. After the Gorillaz abandoned Kong Studios way back then, Cortez decided to abandon the building as well, getting separated from Murdoc for a matter of years. Throughout these years, the only traveling buddy he seemed to have was the fellow pet, Mike the monkey. They seemed to have a mutual understanding with each other, and so he helped the hairless freak try to find Noodle. Many years later, on the eventful day that Pazuzu’s followers started to make London into a wasteland, the red-eyed bird found Murdoc laid down on the sidewalk in a daze, soon reuniting with him after giving him a few hard pecks on the forehead of his thick skull. And so the satanist and raven duo were up to their old tricks once more, Cortez not once leaving Murdoc’s side as he carried out his plans to make things right again.

Murdoc Niccals - The leader of the Renegades. At the start of the monstrous rise, Mr. Niccals was just mucking about inside of a pub when he started seeing a noticeably redder color in the sky, at first believing that he was too drunk to see the right colors. After being attacked by a disgusting demonic being, he was awoken a few hours later from the rather rude, but helpful pecking of his old raven pal, Cortez. Him and his companion scoured the rising wreckage of London until they came across one of his old victims, Jamie Hewlett himself, who turned out to have had an indirect hand into summoning forth the demonic god of famine. Putting aside their troubled past with one another, Murdoc had agreed to work with the artist in order to take back the Earth in the name of the Renegades, which Murdoc deemed to be a name of ‘sheer badassery’. Gathering up a spare copy of the Necronomicon from Gorillaz’s current residence, the bassist helped summon forth his own army zombie gorillas to counter Pazuzu’s.

Noodle - The Japanese warrior. Noodle had been spending the day with her closest friend, Russel Hobbs, inside of the new house belonging to Gorillaz, and working on a new song when they suddenly felt the interior beginning to shake much more than on a usual Friday night. Upon seeing that creatures of the Underworld were beginning to infest the streets of their neighborhood in packs, Russel quickly escorted her down into the basement, where he ordered her to stay in the safety of the area. Naturally she tried to object and claim that she could defend herself, but he wouldn’t have any of it, proceeding to leave and start to board up the house. She hadn’t heard any word from Russel after a few hours of hiding, deciding that enough was enough, and that it would be best to find 2-D and Murdoc before facing the problem head-on. Putting on some fashionable gear and packing a bag of useful objects, she kicked open one of the basement doors and started heading out on foot, stealing an abandoned mail delivery truck whose owner had met their untimely demise when running into some murderous demons.

Mike the Monkey - Noodle’s long lost pet monkey. Mike took part in some of the band’s earlier shows as a DJ, as well as tagging along with them on a few adventures. While the events of ‘El Mañana’ were happening, he was kind of left out of the loop, and just resting up in Noodle’s old bedroom for awhile. He waited months and months for his owner to return from the video shoot, but she never came back to Kong Studios. On October 26, 2006, Mike discovered the transmission that Noodle was trying to leave in the radio room, but was unfortunately unable to communicate with words. After his decision was made to leave the premises of the haunted studios, he had a run-in with Murdoc’s raven, going with him as a traveling buddy since they seemed to keep up with each other. During his travels, the only thing he could use to find clues were various television sets located around the stores, taking note of the music videos that vaguely showed where Noodle and the rest of the band might be. Mike was eventually reunited with Noodle after attempting to ship himself to Plastic Beach in a crate, (similar to how she was shipped to Kong many years ago), instead popping up by her side in the same mail truck that she had stolen.

Cyborg Noodle - The machine. Just as she was about to head back home to the source of where all the chaos was beginning, she ran into Damon and Jamie where she threatened to kill them right then and there. Luckily for them, Jamie was quick to come up with a proposition in order for her to save Murdoc, causing the robotic being to spare their lives for now. The next thing Cyborg knew, she was being brought down to the boys’ basement, where some new type of teleporter was waiting for her from Hewlett’s design. Jamie instructed her to send a specific message to somebody after typing in some coordinates, similar to Leia sending R2-D2. The next moment, she found herself floating aimlessly in Outer Space, right past a couple cell phones with creepy faces on them (People), as well as the Spacemonkeyz, (who are just monkey corpses inside space suits at this point). She ended up face-planting right against the windshield of a ship belonging to none other than Tank Girl and her crew of misfits. After being hit in the head with a wrench by Jet Girl, she instructed Booga to take them back to Earth, where trouble was waiting for them. After a mishap with Pazuzu himself, she was reduced to just a rolling head, who was eventually picked up by Noodle and Mike. Seeing that her lazer eyes still worked, she was forced to tag along with them, being strapped against Mike’s back.

Russel Hobbs - The muscle. After Russel ordered Noodle to stay in the basement, the drummer desperately began attempting to call 2-D and Murdoc to see if they were okay, but neither of them answered. Not wanting to waste another second and risk having Noodle’s life be put in danger, Russel started doing his best to board up the windows of the house, but he wasn’t quick enough. Luckily, there was someone else that was. Spirit House didn’t just get it’s name out of random, since it had always been quite a hotspot for ghostly apparitions. It was on this day that when Pazuzu started merging the real world and the spirit world together, an old friend of Russel’s made himself known in order to save him in his time of need. This same friend turning out to be his ghostly soul-brother, Del.

DA (Damon Albarn) - Minor antagonist. For the entirety of the years following that fateful night of getting attacked by Gorillaz, and going through months of physical therapy with his partner (Charts of Darkness), Damon wanted nothing more than to get back at the four of them for all the trauma he was given. He was there with Jamie when he started creating more and more enemies for the band to deal with. The musician was hesitant about letting him bring more evil into the Earth, but if it meant that he could have the proper spotlight on the Plastic Beach tours, then he was all for it. Unfortunately because Damon didn’t say something in time about Jamie’s intentions, the portal to Hell opened up, and the two of them were then forced to team up with Murdoc once more.

JH (Jamie Hewlett) - Minor antagonist. Jamie had the worst of the trauma. He didn’t just want to have revenge on Murdoc for all the injuries, no. He wanted him completely off the face of the Earth if there was anything he had to say about it. The bridge out on the 19-2000 highway? Murdoc’s bad checks that landed him in a Mexican prison? All organized by him. What he didn’t count on were things getting more out of hand, especially with the helicopters shooting down the Slowboat back in 2006. He soon discovered that Gorillaz weren’t the only drawings of his imagination that came to life. His love for horror films got him exactly what he didn’t need in his life, an uprising of darkness and terror among the Earth. His role in Murdoc’s gang of Renegades is basically playing God to counter act with Pazuzu’s role as Satan, creating the zombie army of gorillas, similar to the ones from the Clint Eastwood video.

Del tha Ghost Rapper - Russel’s spirit. Del was originally one of Russel’s closest friends back when he was alive, but after the incident of being gunned down in a drive-by shooting, he was left for dead, but his spirit lived on inside of Russel’s head all the way until he was exorcised by the Grim Reaper himself. Russel never once forgot about him, no matter how many times he had attempted to, and this same faith seemed to pay off when Del ultimately saved his life yet another time. The portal from Hell wasn’t just for bringing out demons, because the ghost rapper found himself escaping from his resting place as well, just in time to defend his best friend from an oncoming horde. Seeing that the two had an opportunity to go through one last adventure together, Russel teamed up with Del to begin searching for Noodle, starting with a thorough interrogation towards one of their esteemed collaborators, Damon Albarn.

Paula Cracker - The ex-girlfriend. After the infamous story of the Kong Studios bathroom stall was published and read by millions, Paula Cracker became the laughingstock of the year, even disowned by her own parents for taking part in such an act of adultery. That one night broke her in a way she described as, “feeling sick, like I want to hurt people.” And so, after being called a “slut” and a “whore” one too many times by a fan of 2-D’s, Paula immediately smashed a beer bottle against the pavement before going straight at the other woman and gouging both of her eyes straight out, ironically fitting for her support of Stu’s eye injury. She was never seen, or heard from again by the public, having been detained and put in a special ward at the Nightingale Mental Hospital in London. She thought she would never see the light of day again, until mysteriously, her cell door was opened by a tall man dressed in black, with a long nose poking out the front of his gas mask. He granted her the freedom that she had so longed for, which ultimately led to her running into Stu once more at the Westbourne River. At first she cried, internally counting all the possible times she could apologize to 2-D for what she did years ago, but the blue-haired singer was easy to forgive. The two paired up, Paula naturally using her previous tactics of breaking and entering to secure them some weapons, and a bit of backup. It was Jet Girl that gave her a new arm after her old one had gotten chewed right off by a possessed dog.

The Boogieman - Gorillaz’s new ally. After the dust settled down at what was left of Plastic Beach, the masked man spent some time dealing with the contempt and scolding hot feeling of karma, especially by the Evangelist when she banished him from the Earthly plane for a matter of years. In some way, he saw this as a punishment for the error of his ways, and the lives of innocent people taken by him. His possible chance of redemption ultimately presented itself when he was released back to Earth, taking the bitter souls and draining the life of a few monstrous creatures that were moments away from killing Murdoc, Cyborg Noodle, and Damon. Murdoc was bitter to the tall apparition at first, but this ironic twist of fate brought them to start fighting for the same goal. Caught up in a truce for now, The Boogieman was now on The Renegades’ side.

Pazuzu - Main antagonist. Originally the only representation of Pazuzu we had ever seen was his statue located at the front of Kong Studios, as well as towards the edge of a cliff on Plastic Beach. But Jamie’s belief that he could cause Murdoc and the rest of the Gorillaz all the turmoil in the world caused the demonic god to become more real than he had ever intended. His soul awakened deep from the depths of Hades, and his army was assembled to shape the entire world into his own fiery image. He brought the wrath, and it’s up to the band to take back the glory.

Tank Girl - Another one of Jamie Hewlett’s misfits. Rebecca Buck is a psychotic dame with absolutely no limits, but one thing she’s good at is bringing the back up. In the distant future of the year 2033, her and her gang were just cruising around in Booga’s ship when Cyborg Noodle crashed against the windshield, prompting Tank Girl to suggest bringing her inside immediately before hearing what she had to say. Jamie had equipped a time device inside of Noodle’s ear, which Booga used to bring the crew back to the past in order to assist Murdoc in the fight, being that she was a huge fan of Gorillaz long before her timeline went to shit. Art belongs to Sketcher. Gorillaz belongs to Damon Albarn / Jamie Hewlett. Tank Girl belongs to Jamie Hewlett / Alan Martin. I don't believe I'll be making this concept into a story or anything, but if I do, then you have tons of backstory to fuel your imaginations for how it'd be.

#gorillaz #2d #murdoc niccals #noodle #russel hobbs #damon albarn #jamie hewlett #tank girl

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nicskoyoga · 6 years ago

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That girl needs therapy...

I’m excited to embark on a new journey, with a therapist I’m expecting to spend quite a lot of time with. Because I really want to? I guess so, yeah. Sick to death of experiencing my own let-downs. :(

Who cares? No-one REALLY

... not enough to get up off their arse and find out exactly what needs to be done.

Only those who’ve had to walk the path themselves can empathize completely. And actually I don’t know if I know anyone who has been through it all, and would be available to hold my hand. Why? Cos that’s not their vocation, and they’re not my mother, lover or dearest friend.

Gratitude without showing it

So completely grateful for the advice I’ve been given though....

Don’t get me wrong. It’s just so difficult to take advice though isn’t it?

Some people just learn in different ways. Some of us have to have our hand held, and...

Why? Because we’re a different kind of addict to our problems.

We’re the kind that hasn’t got the get-go to behold true deep reliable faith in ourselves. We gotta see it, have it agreed, and confirmed 1million times over, cos...

We’re too damn stuck to be able unspell ourselves from our own stupid miseries.

Heck I’m still I’m happy I’m me though!!! Wouldn’t wanna be the lot of ya, ha ha ha ha.

That’s probably my worst personality trait failing showing bright and true as it is there for ya for free, go on, hate on me. But ... I do believe I think I’m better, and yet I know I’m bloody useless too. And you’re amazing and better than me in too many shameful ways (yawn. but yet AWFUL!!!!)

So yeah... I know stuff. I’ve experienced changes. I could do with just a little bit more

Now... I know I’m getting all ahead of myself; already getting so super excited that I may be able to really enjoy my life deeply soon when,

I’ve had literally 1 session of therapy so obviously the help hasn’t yet begun really.... And yet,

I do believe a change is on the horizon.

This year has been pretty damn challenging in terms of managing (or not) my mental health problems. BUT it’s getting easier, I feel less sick, literally feel like good food is edible again. I have less headaches and anxiety attacks and my depressive states are gradually reducing.

Why do I tell this story?

Imagining that few to no people will read me. Because it’s me truthfully now. It’s what I am happy to help explain, and share.

God I try to let people know,

but it’s so damn depressing I don’t want to burden,

I just want to explain a little...

so they can understand;

why I am unable to tell them what is good with my life

and why I don’t want to join in anymore,

why I don’t want to actively live my life...

Because things aren’t in place in my life,

and every time I try to get on track, I get a knockback again before long, in the shape of stupid, F**king, ever-reappearing mental health shite.

Can you tell I’m a little bit angry about it?

I’m hugely ashamed about it,

...that I keep letting myself and others down, but not quite enough to pull my finger out, hey. Yep ... loser, and knows it. The ramblings of a suicidal you’d think? Nope I can’t even be bothered to think my life is worth ending, I’d rather suffer in knowing it’s wasted.

I used to, and still kind of do believe that

therapy is only really worthy of those who are suicidal. (WRONG)

Any of you who have ever encountered the questions by a health professional asking you if you are suicidal or have ever had suicical thoughts may know what I mean.

I mean... why are you asking me like it’s a determinator of how awful my life is, are you telling me to

get to that point before I’m ready to get help? Heck what the hell!

Obviously I know it’s about a duty of care. But my god, there’s gotta be some truth in giving those who are waiving the white flag at the grim reaper a red flag up to the top of the “that girl needs therapy” list

Money health talks

Do you know I managed to fail a health assessment for Employment Support Allowance, I was going to challenge it, yet I read the report and the statements were true.

And yet here I am 6 months later. Same situ, off job seekers. Struggling to keep working. I may as well take another bloody corporate job, at least I get better pay and better hours, cos my extra time and space right now doesn’t appear to be doing the trick

Sack me again, let me drain the corporations and get closer to that more important suicidal feelin’, yeah!!?

That trick I thought I had up my sleeve of becoming a yoga teacher would help me end of.

NOPE. Girl still needs therapy.

Of course I don’t have a clear strategy, I’ve been too poorly to address the essentials. Shame on me.

So where’s my support? My family find ways to help me hugely but it’s not easy, it’s not without discomfort and it’s certainly doesn’t feel like taking liberties living in luxury. It’s not possible for me to drain my parents retirement on which they’re living.

The system isn’t supporting me, and I am struggling to support myself. It’s sick.

So now a motivation for me to earn money is for me to afford my therapy. How nuts is that.

I choose a better present and a future as my priority. I’m offered to pay less but as a professional in a similar field I don’t wish to exploit this generosity. It’s empowering to know it’s possible, yet whilst I set my priorities on my basic needs and this,

How dare I lower her rates to charity level, that’s not on. Not unless I’ve succumbed to the addictions of life, materialism, capitalism, being unable to be in solitude or celebrate at low - zero expense

... then that’s my problem as far as I am concerned and should it happen, then I’ll be happy to say I’m sorry I am asking to take advantage of your generosity.

Money talks

My belief is that our economic balance is total trash,

Equality in life is at the essence of my beliefs,

Hence why I fall victim to believing that you are entitled to earn what your clients earn, if they value you, they will share the value of their time with you for the value of your time.

What they fail to see more often than not, is that the value of my time is not the time in which they have me in a room, or the spare minutes around or messages exchanged. Working as a yoga instructor, or fitness instructor is so poorly valued,

We spend so much time if we are doing a good proper job in keeping things afloat.

IE let’s example a building contractor. Why do you pay them so much? Well of course they have to go and

source the materials and put a premium on them no doubt,

and they have to do the plans

and my god may they have to market themselves?

Or pay for tools (no I don’t just need mats)

Let’s talk about my laptop which I wouldn’t have got honestly unless for work,

for the phone which is on it’s arse which needs replacing to enable me to pitch for more work,

what about the photo and video editing software, mic, camera etc that would all help me to keep going along this track so I can create content and stuff.

God I’ve even got to pay for word processor these days,

my insurances.

Do you know what I’d 100% ditch my car if it wasn’t for work so

How much do you spend on your car cos you’re income allows?

RANT OVER(ish) ... at the fear of sounding like a self-entitled arsehole, ha. But you see where I am going with this. These are not just set up costs, they’re business costs which will need attention over time, for an exchange of services = business

Even if it’s not a tangible asset, it’s a lifestyle choice like a car that actually you might walk away with lifelong lifestyle value against rather than depreciating bullshit.

There is business costs you wouldn’t consider, and you have lifestyle expectations that you demand of your employment, so because you think that it’s a choice or privilege for someone to pursue their vocation and it’s their responsibility or problem, and nothing of your concern that they have not found the way to achieve their income or funding without asking for reasonable rates of pay that reflect your own salaried hourly rate. Where do you expect business funding to come from? - Those who advantage from the business!

That’s why it’s so hard

Because,

Conflicting with this I also believe that yoga should not have this prestige image, or something of aspirational, it should be accessible to the masses ... god it’s within us so let me teach you how to practice yourself for free

My words are coming to an end. Terrible ramblings, I don’t have the patience right now to produce some quality content to share, hence why I don’t mind no-one it reading now. But maybe in time to come it may be seen and understood as a backstory. Shedding whatever lights I felt at the time, maybe changed, hopefully understood in the future with less conflict.

I would like to end this by offering my deepest apologies for my untruths, lies, letdowns, and would like to offer my deepest gratitude to those who read, who help, and who have the heart to care without judgement that this girl who needs therapy may always but has faith she will be absolutely amazing soon.

Almost THE END

And the last depressive note, just because hey, I am, and why not after being vocal on it.

Sleeping tablets.. I’ve had over my dose tonight, again. and look at the energy exuding from me.

Tomorrow no doubt I’ll be wiped and find my day tiresome needing naps or if I was in a office I’d be sitting pretending to do some mundane tasks extremely slowly (very rewarding).

So well done, thanks for the help there NHS / Benefits system. Sort the shit out.

Time out.

And next up... when is it ok to start telling people I am letting them down because I am too depressed and anxious?

.............................................THE END

#anxiety #depression #yogainstructor #fitnessinstructor #mentalhealth #therapy

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rorykillmore · 7 years ago

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okay here is a (late) christmas present for @saintvivec!! he left the prompt up to me and i thought about various rp dynamics for awhile and then decided to do something... special to honor the fact that we’ve been in lost hell for the past few months. i was too intimidated to try to write locke so the idea was “sawyer comes to denny and interacts with some of my roster” so here is. sawyer encountering several dc girls and generally going to hell. it’s sawyer after all!

eps, you’re one of my oldest online friends and i’m very grateful to have had that endured for so long. i know things haven’t always been easy for you but i am genuinely proud of the progress you’ve made and the strides you’ve taken to be more comfortable and confident in yourself. even when shit’s rough for you you’re always willing to engage me and try to make me smile and check to make sure i’m okay too, and i really do appreciate that. thanks for always being there and for always having the ability to make me laugh. i’m really glad we’ve found a new thing to share and enjoy together and hopefully this fic is a good tribute to that!!

“You know, if you went ahead and let me die,” Sawyer tries, not even sure whether it’s meant to be taunting or sincere. “I wouldn’t tell.”

“Son of a --” He groans, rolling over where he was unceremoniously dropped, not quite making sense of his surroundings. It’s cold. It shouldn’t be cold. He’s living on a goddamn tropical island -- the least they can give him is nice weather, when it’s not fucking pouring.

“Sir?” An unfamiliar voice gets his attention. “...Are you okay?”

Sawyer opens his eyes. Standing over him is --

-- He snorts.

Some chick in a Superman get-up.

“What is it, Halloween already?” He makes the quip almost automatically, and then remembers himself and freezes. He doesn’t know her face. She wasn’t on the plane. That means --

“Whoa! Hey, relax,” the woman protests as Sawyer scrambles to sit up. “Looks like you just got here. I can help you.”

Just got here. Then it clicks. The snow on the ground. The distinct sound of nearby traffic. The buildings towering around him.

He’s not on the island anymore.

He wracks his brain, trying to think of the last thing he can remember. What he should be feeling - what any normal person would be feeling, in this situation - is relief. He just got out of hell -- so to speak. He’s free.

Except, assuming he’s back on the mainland, there’s nothing for him out here any more than there ever was. Nothing but a vendetta he’s clung to for most of his life, one he’s not even sure it’s possible to pursue anymore.

He thinks of the poor fuck he shot in cold blood back in Australia, and grimaces.

He isn’t free. Never was.

“Where the hell am I?” he growls, still eyeing Cape and Skirt dubiously.

She tilts her head. “New York City. 2017 -- if that matters.”

It does matter, ‘cause last Sawyer heard it was 2004. He pulls himself to his feet gruffly. “You pullin’ my leg, Captain America?” Either that or he’s dealing with time travel, which is a possibility he’s just not prepared to face.

“Uh. No.” Her brow furrows for a moment. “And it’s -- Supergirl.”

Sawyer snorts again. “Of course it is.”

He doesn’t ask her anything else - partly because he’s afraid of the answers, and partly because he’d rather find them himself - before he starts walking away.

“Wait,” Super-whatsherface calls after him. “I should probably explain a few things --”

“Save it,” Sawyer insists without slowing or turning around.

“But -- where are you even going to go?”

The truth is, he doesn’t really have an answer to that question, but it’s not like he cares what happens to him anyways. He’ll figure something out, one way or another. He always does.

Readjusting to constant luxuries like electricity and running water and no food shortages whatsoever is harder than he would’ve expected. Sawyer supposes he might strike most people as the type who likes to live in luxury, but island life had suited him in a strange sort of way. The ever-changing status quo (which he’d gotten pretty good at working in his favor), the frequent opportunities for excitement (risking his life) -- not to mention all the spare time he’d had to read on the beach.

Here in this... other world (why the hell not), it’s back to business. He supposes that means back to conning, because that’s what he does best by now, however much he might hate himself for becoming the mirror image of the man he’s always hated. He goes out often, especially visiting that meeting place in New York to scan his prospects.

Also, because it takes his mind off things. People.

Sawyer isn’t used to having people to miss. Not that that’s what’s happening, it’s just -- he keeps catching himself thinking about them. Kate, Jack, Jin, Michael -- he guesses he spent the most time with them, so it makes sense.

But he even wonders about other things, like how Claire and her baby are doing, or whether anyone’s bothering to keep an eye on Hurley now that Libby’s gone.

He just has to get used to being alone again, he tells himself (he’s not sure when he stopped being that -- alone. It feels dangerous).

But it’s a problem that can be solved at least temporarily by hitting up a bar, so that’s what he does. He just doesn’t expect to nearly trip over something on his way in the door.

-- Something? Someone?

“Watch where the hell you’re going,” the whatever-it-is snaps at him, and Sawyer just kind of stares at it for a moment.

It’s a raccoon.

"Did you just talk?” he grunts, not even sure why he’s so surprised at this point.

“Blind and deaf,” the raccoon sneers. “Well in that case, I guess I’ll have to excuse your stupidity.”

Sawyer wonders whether he can get away with kicking this asshole across the bar. “Keep walking, Jesse.”

This actually brings the raccoon up short. His ears twitch in a nonplussed sort of way. “Jesse?”

He hates it when people don’t get his references, and then actually have the nerve to comment on it anyway. “Jesse Coon,” he tries. Still nothing. “The raccoon? -- It’s from a book.”

“He’s not a raccoon,” a voice from behind them cuts in. Sawyer glances over to see an edgy looking brunette in her mid-twenties staring at him.

“What are you, his girlfriend?” he retorts.

“Ha.” The not-raccoon snorts. “Drinking buddy, more like.”

“So, basically his therapist,” the woman adds, and the not-raccoon proceeds to flip her off.

Sawyer snorts, hoping it veils his wariness. Upon first impression, these people strike him as -- well, sort of like him. Which means they’re probably not the type he’s gonna get along with. “I take it that’s what you’re here for,” he gripes, talking about the drinking, not the therapy.

“Well, we ain’t here to square dance.” Ranger Rick still sounds annoyed, but maybe that’s just his general state of being.

His lady friend glances over at the stage, currently empty of any live entertainment. “Not for some people’s lack of trying.”

They’re regulars, then, he’s guessing. But the prospect of alcohol is enough to make them worth tolerating for a few minutes at least, so he takes a seat and order his drink.

Dorothy and Toto aren’t far behind him, though for a few minutes they keep to themselves as they knock back a couple of shots. That suits Sawyer just fine.

And then the woman suddenly decides he’s worth engaging. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Name’s Sawyer, sweetheart,” he gives her a non-sarcastic answer reluctantly, if only because she looks mildly annoyed at being called ‘sweetheart’. “What about you and your furry friend?”

“Rocket,” the latter says as disdainfully as possible.

His ‘drinking buddy’ gives Sawyer a sharp sort of smile. “Silver Banshee.”

She looks mildly put out when Sawyer’s only response is, “What?”

“It’s just the name she puts on the business cards.” Rocket rolls his eyes. “Metaphorically speaking.”

This piques Sawyer’s interest a little, but he makes sure not to look it, taking a slow sip of his drink before he says anything else. “And what kinda ‘business’ are you two in?”

“We’re bounty hunters,” Silver-fucking-Banshee tells him as matter of factly as anything else. “Don’t suppose you know anyone who needs tracking down?”

“Or roughed up a little, free of charge?” Rocket adds flippantly.

Sawyer’s expression twists into a kind of grim smile. Hell. If only they knew.

“Sorry, kiddos. Not in this world.” He pauses then. He’s not sure why he does, but this... there’s something about these two assholes. Or maybe not about them, specifically, but -- hunting people. He’s gotten awfully hooked on that.

“You hiring?” he asks, half-joking, not even sure he means it.

Then he realizes he’s a little too interested in the answer.

Working every now and again with Rocket and Siobhan, it doesn’t take Sawyer very long to get caught in the line of fire... and, well, he’d have been lying to himself if he’d said that wasn’t part of what he was after, on the very fringes of his thoughts

Han and Chewie drag him to a metahuman doctor --

( “I ain’t a goddamn metahuman,” Sawyer protests. “Whatever that means.”

“Neither am I, technically.” Siobhan shrugs. “The important thing is, you don’t need medical insurance.

Which, alright, fair.)

-- and Sawyer does his best to look at least remotely invested until they’re out of earshot.

Then he tells Dr. Caitlin Snow, “Look. Don’t bother.”

Her brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t need nobody fussin’ over me. I’ll take my chances.”

“You were shot in the shoulder,” Dr. Snow tells him, so frank and deadpan and ‘are you some kind of goddamn idiot’ that Sawyer almost has to smile. “You’re bleeding out.”

“And your bedside manner is impeccable. Five stars!” Maybe if he’s obnoxious enough, she won’t feel much like saving his life.

Dr. Snow proceeds to drench his shoulder in alcohol, and Sawyer can’t tell if it’s in direct retaliation or if she’s just ignoring him and proceeding with her treatment. It stings like hell, though, and he hisses loudly.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Hold still.” Without missing a beat, she starts dressing the wound.

There’s not much point in protesting now, so Sawyer does. “Why’re you even helping me?” he can’t help pushing regardless. “You don’t seem to like me very much.”

Dr. Snow meets his eyes for a brief moment. “I just don’t trust your friends very much.”

“Then why are you helping them?”

“Hippocratic oath?”

Right. That. Her and Jack would probably get along.

“You know, if you went ahead and let me die,” Sawyer tries, not even sure whether it’s meant to be taunting or sincere. “I wouldn’t tell.”

She blinks, and Sawyer actually fancies she looks shocked for a moment.

“I’m gonna go ahead and stitch you up.”

Well, she has resolve, he’ll give her that. He watches her with a frown. “What, no anesthetic?”

In a simple movement, Dr. Snow presses her hand to his shoulder, and Sawyer braces himself for pain -- but all that comes is a sudden sensation of controlled cold, just enough to make the ache from the bullet wound feel numbed.

Of course, he thinks, trying not to feel even remotely grateful. No one in this goddamn place is normal.

It’s the simple things that keep him entertained while he’s recovering.

Like when he’s sitting in a coffee shop, minding his own business (well, so to speak, he’s got a cheap knock-off of a diamond ring on hand and is ready to use it) when some pretty blonde walks past dressed in clothes that look expensive, if surprisingly vintage. Sawyer sizes her up for a couple of moments and decides she’ll work just fine.

He plants the ring on the ground - not too far from his table and in her line of sight - as she’s getting her coffee. It looks real enough to fool an every day admirer (Sawyer knows how to choose his fakes), but it’s worth maybe thirty or forty dollars at most.

Thankfully, it catches her eye as she turns -- this always works better when he doesn’t have to point anything out to the mark. He doesn’t watch her bend to pick it up, busying himself in his newspaper.

“Excuse me,” she says, turning to him. “You didn’t drop this, did you?”

Sawyer lowers the paper, glances at the ring, and gives her a brief smirk. “Well, I’m flattered you think I’m the fancy jewelry type.”

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”

Leaning a little closer regardless, he considers the ring as if he’s never seen it before. “Damn, though,” he comments. “Rock looks expensive. May I?”

She watches him with an unreadable expression. “I thought you just implied you weren’t the fancy jewelry type.”

“I implied I was flattered you assumed as much while I’m sittin’ here drinkin’ ninety-nine cent coffee.” He eases a little rogueish charm into the conversation, just to see if she’ll respond. She smiles at him, just a little, and hands over the ring. Sawyer takes his time looking it over, and then, when the moment’s right, idly lets out a low whistle.

“You some kind of appraiser?” she asks, still watching him.

“Can’t take much credit for that. I have a friend who works over at Greenwich, on Trinity. Shame this fell out of someone’s pocket.” He shakes his head slowly. “Or finger. It’s a beautiful ring.”

The woman leans against his table. “How much?”

Well, there’s the golden question, and a lot quicker than Sawyer expected it. “How much is it worth?” He tries to sound a little dubious, because it takes an interesting kind of person to leap right to wanting to make a profit - usually marks need a little subtle coaxing towards that - but hell, he’s not gonna argue with her.

“By your rough estimate.”

Sawyer regards the ring again. Then he shrugs. “Couldn’t say for sure without taking it in, but -- couple thousand, maybe. At least.”

“Really?”

“Well, like I said --”

The woman laughs, and Sawyer pauses.

“So you were gonna swindle me out of at least a thousand dollars,” she nods to the ring, casual as anything. “For that.”

It’s not that nobody’s ever caught on before, but she’s awfully damn direct. Still, she has no proof that he planted the ring, so he plays dumb. “Swindle you --”

“I mean, you must think I’m an idiot. A pigeon drop? Really?”

She even knows the name of the goddamn con, so the game’s pretty much up. Still, Sawyer’s never been one not to go down swinging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells her, insolent and not even trying for convincing.

She laughs again, and Sawyer isn’t sure whether he should feel annoyed or not. It’s probably better than her trying to turn him in, as far as immediate reactions go.

“Glad I could entertain you,” he snarks at her dryly. What is he, some kinda street magician?

“Yeah. You really made my day.”

“Well, I guess that’s a better scenario than the one where I piss off some superhero with x-ray vision.”

The woman considers that for a moment with a look in her eyes that Sawyer doesn’t quite appreciate. “So hard to find anyone normal around here, isn’t it?” She holds out a hand. “Sara. Thanks for trying to rob my blind.”

“Sawyer,” he tells her, shaking her hand as sarcastically as possible. “Thanks for being an asshole about it.”

“No problem. You seemed like you could use a taste of your own medicine.”

Well, that’s fair enough.

“You sure know your basic cons.” Sawyer can’t help but me mildly interested. “Where’d you pick that up?”

He doesn’t expect a straight answer (it’s no good for banter, for one thing), and sure enough, Sara just shrugs. “Here and there.”

“Well, if you ain’t too busy bein’ mysterious, I could buy you a coffee. Make up for almost scamming the hell out of you.” It’s not exactly an offer made out of the kindness of his heart, but he figures she’s worth scoping out in case he ever has to work a two-man con.

Sara’s lips twitch. “I have somewhere to be, but... maybe some other time.” She glances at the door and back. “Us normal people have to stick together, after all.”

He probably should be suspicious, because all of this still seems a little too funny to her, but he gives her a sarcastic smirk back. “Yeah. See you around.”

She leaves, and he’s left sipping his coffee. Old habits die hard, he supposes -- or never at all. He could spend ten years in this world, he bets, and it still wouldn’t be enough to change a person like him.

Even though -- well, damn. He’d gone without thinking about the island for almost fifteen minutes.

At least this place has no shortage of distractions. He’s thinking it’s about time he made use of that.

#this fuckin went places #also i made myself sad writing sawyer and i shouldve expected that #belated merry christmas friend!!#fic #saintvivec #christmas gifts

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