#Also I wrote it before my dad passed and I moved back home for my mom

[spocksgotemotions]

you ever go back and read a fic you wrote years ago and find its somehow more relatable now than when you wrote it? That there was a secret of you hidden in it? Wild.

[dearhargrove]

Survivors

Evan Buckley x reader

summary You're taking care of Christopher when Buck comes home, looking absolutely drained and in shock and goes straight to Christophers room. You overhear the news and make sure to care for both Chris and Buck.

word count 1639

tags pretty much episode 14 season 4, Eddie gets shot but it's not described, Buck is sad :(, Chris being the precious kid he is

a/n the way I sat there in silence when Eddie got shot is crazy. Like first they hurt us with Athena and Bobby's fight and then one second passes and Eddie (my bb) gets shot I'm so confused 😭 anyway I couldn't take it when I saw bucks reaction so I wrote a fix it for me. Also I screen recorded off of an illegal site to make gifs LMAO

masterlist

You're washing the dishes when the front door opens and closes, footsteps echoing through the hallway and living room - right past the kitchen.

“Eddie?” You call and the steps stop. Instead of the man you'd expected there's your husband, Buck. He looks distraught, eyes bloodshot and lips bitten raw. What the hell happened? He doesn't even really look at you, it's like he's looking through you. “Buck? You okay?”

He licks his lips and blinks a few times but he doesn't reply. He walks straight to Christopher's bedroom, you following after him in confusion and worry. Why was he alone and why did he look like he'd seen a ghost or worse?

He stops before entering Chris’ room, but not to wait for permission to come in but more like hesitancy. He balls his hand into a fist and takes a deep breath before walking in. You take his spot in the doorway and watch with a worried frown as Buck squats down in front of Chris who's sitting on his bed, playing a video game.

“Where's Dad?” Buck looks down and you see him swallow again before he looks into the kids eyes. “He's.. not coming home tonight, Chris.”

Chris seems almost unbothered by it but considering that Eddie had to stay in the hospital overnight almost regularly due to his job, it was a reasonable reaction. But Buck doesn't seem to think the same and shakes his head minimally.

“Did he get hurt? In a fire?” Chris inquires and Buck turns his head to the side and slowly shakes it in negation. Before explaining it he sits down next to Chris and pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “No, not- not in a fire.” He takes another deep breath before continuing, “The truth is someone hurt your Dad.”

It's been a while since you've heard his voice so sullen and raspy from crying - probably since the last visit from his parents and that was weeks ago now. You slowly and quietly come into the room as well, standing at the foot of the bed and next to Buck with his back turned to you.

He regards you with a short glance before focusing back on Christopher, confirming his question, “Yeah, a bad guy.”

You see him reach up and wipe under his eyes, frowning in empathy as you put your hand between his shoulder blades and slowly move it up and down in hopes to calm him down a bit.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Chris asks and you're glad he did because you want to know too. Buck looks at him again and nods. “Your Dad is tough. He's a fighter.”

“He's with the doctors now? The ones that fixed you?” Chris inquires and Buck nods. You see the conflict on his face before the ten year old nods, “Then he's gonna be fine.” You hum and Buck glances your way before focusing back on Chris. Just as he's about to say something his phone pings twice and he looks down at it.

Over his shoulder you see the message as well, stemming from Bobby.

Out of surgery. Doctors say it went well.

Your heart basically drops in relief and Bucks seems to as well when his phone drops from his hand and he pretty much caves in, dropping his chin to his chest as he sniffles and exhales deeply.

You thread your hand in his hair and he automatically leans into you, resting against your stomach as he starts to cry. His hands grasp at your hips before his arms wrap around you and he sobs.

“Shh, it's okay, baby. Eddie's gonna be fine. Right, Chris? Your dad's strong.”

The young boy nods and you smile assuringly as he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucks shoulders to pat his back. You melt at the sight and ruffle his hair which he usually doesn't like - only his dad is allowed to - but now he just looks at you with worry and confusion.

“How about you go and get ready for bed, hm?” It's not a question and it is a reasonable time for him to head to bed anyway, so he complies and slowly walks to the bathroom.

When he's out of earshot you sit next to Buck and let him fully wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest as he cries. “H-He got shot right in front of me,” he starts with hitching breaths. “He just dropped and his blood was all over me-” he sobs deeply and you kiss his head while trying to process this yourself. He got shot?

“You couldn't have prevented it, love. He's gonna be fine. Eddie survived a lot, he's going to pull through this time, too.” Buck shakes his head and pulls back enough to look at you, blue eyes glossy and chin quivering as he gasps between another sob.

“It shouldn't have been him!” This devastates you and you cup his face in your hands, your worried expression replaced by a stern one. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Not him and not you, either. You hear me?”

He whimpers and you sigh, wiping your thumbs under his eyes and placing a long, soft kiss on his birthmark. “As soon as we can, we'll go visit him. But now you have to be strong, for Christopher. He looks up to you, if he sees you sad he'll be sad, too. Let's get him to bed, and I'll take care of you after.”

You take his hand and put it over your heart, exaggerating your breaths so he could match his and calm down. Right when he does he opens his eyes again and his frown fades enough to only be barely visible. “‘m sorry.”

The shake of your head is immediate, shutting up any further apologies. “No. It's good to let it out. I'm here so you can do exactly that if you need to. I love you, Evan. Nothing's gonna change that.”

He pulls his hand from your chest and tangles it with yours instead, gently kissing your knuckles and then your inner wrist.

He used to hate his name after it reminded him of his parents- of how they treated him. It reminds him of a life where he had to endure pain to receive love and attention.

But when you say it, it makes his heart beat faster in a good way. It makes him want to move on from his trauma or at least learn to deal with it.

And moreover it makes him feel validated. With you, he's not just Buck. He's also vulnerable, emotional and a bit cheesy. He's Evan. Evan, who's had more jobs in more cities than he can count on one hand because he was trying to find his place in the world. Evan, who likes the ocean but has been uneasy around it ever since the tsunami.

You smile lovingly and peck his forehead just as Chris comes back inside. He's wearing some dino pajamas and you ‘ohh’ at him which makes him giggle and turn as if to show off his outfit.

You move up from the bed - Buck going with you and standing at the foot of it - and untuck the bedsheets. “Get in there.” Chris grins and lays down, letting you tuck him in.

“Don't be sad, kid.” He says to Buck, who tries and fails to hide a new round of tears building up in his eyes. You had no clue where and why Chris sometimes calls Buck or even Eddie ‘kid’ but both of them seemed to love it.

“I'm just a bit worried for your Dad. But he'll be fine,” he adds the last part when you glance at him warningly, not wanting Chris to worry, and smiles. “Goodnight, bud.”

You leave his nightlight on and the door open as you leave.

Buck settles on the couch and watches as you approach and stand in front of him.

He leans back into the couch and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you melt every single time he looks at you. Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

“I'm really scared. I don't know what I would do without him… when he laid there and looked at me, I-” he inhales sharply and looks at his hands, picking at his nails and reopening an old abrasion in the process.

You take his hand into each of yours to stop him and sigh, “I think you're gonna have to move from monthly sessions to biweekly, babe.” You know his therapy has been helping him a lot and you're glad he's working on coping with his trauma, but this addition is going to complicate not just his home life but also work - especially when Eddie comes back.

He groans and pulls you down until you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and his hands on your hips. “I appreciate your help, lovie, but just let me try and rest a little right now, please?”

You smile and card a hand through hair, moving to get off his lap so he could get comfortable on the couch. “Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and you're pushed onto your back before he's leaning over you, laying between your legs.

“You're gonna use me as your pillow?” You prompt and he nods, laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck and against your pulse point. You're familiar with his constant search for proof that you're alive and well; you supposed it comes from not just the job but his abandonment issues, too.

It didn't matter to you though, as long as you got to hold him at the end of the day you'd let him maneuver you into whatever way made him happy.

[cloudsmateria]

double agent! leon kennedy x reader

i actually really love this fic i wrote I'm proud of it tbh.

summary: you have been fucking your roommate, leon kennedy. little does he know you work for the british government as an agent against America, little do you know, he's an american spy. you finally tell him how you feel, with a mixed response of a fear of commitment and confusion about these feelings for the first time in 6 years, battling suspicions from both sides.

warnings: spicy smut, porn with a lot of plot

You and Leon had been participating in flatcest for the past two months and your feelings for him had been festering for at least another two before that. When you had both first moved in you managed to work your way around that awkward phase by going out at night after your shifts to grab a bite to eat and you had kicked it off instantly.

The reason you opted for a roommate was because the nature of your job as an agent had meant you were rarely home anyway, why would you waste money on rent? Not soon after meeting Leon through a mutual friend of Jill you found that he was also rarely home since he worked for a global weapons company rather high up and said he had a lot of abroad business trips, but your holidays and spontaneous days off had always managed to line up.

This week after you finished your mentally draining mission you went into Leon’s room who had just gotten back from his shift, rather than going to your own. He was at his desk finishing up paperwork at his desk and sipping at his coffee. 

“How was work?”

“Miserable.” You mumbled, changing out of the jeans and top you had changed into at work after your shower to avoid suspicion of going onto public transport, coming home in full tactical gear, and smelling like days of brewing body odour and gunpowder. You took one of the shirts out of his wardrobe and fell onto his bed, which made him smile. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“That stupid bitch Graves couldn’t stop giving me shit the entire time when he was doing barely anything compared to me, he just- Ugh. I don’t even know how to explain my co-workers sometimes, there are some truly insufferable characters.” You had told Leon that you were an aircraft mechanic as it was one of the only things you had an idea of what was going on in that profession as your dad was one, it also excused coming home looking like you had lived in a cave for the past few years when you were on the verge of passing out let alone having the energy to shower at work. 

He lets out a light laugh. “Insufferable characters? You wouldn’t last a day working with my team.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You whisper, so quiet there was no way he could’ve heard, forgetting of his abnormally good hearing.

“Hm? What was that?” He grins, turning around his chair. 

“I think you’re the one who wouldn’t last a day at my job.”

“Oh really? What couldn’t I survive at your difficult job?”

“The imminent threat of death.” You say sarcastically, making him laugh at the irony knowing he almost got stabbed last week. “You’d blow something up for sure.” Sounds pretty accurate.

“I wouldn’t survive a day there because I’d always be distracted by you. Can’t even focus on my paperwork right now.” He says, getting out of his chair and sitting on the side of the bed to cup your face, leaning down to kiss you. You wrap your arms around him and kiss him back until he eventually drags himself away with a final kiss on your head before getting up. 

“You’re not taking me away from my work this time, I need to finish it.”

“I was going to sleep anyway.”

“I’ll join you in an hour.”

You nod and toss over, closing your eyes and falling asleep in an instant. The next time you opened your eyes, you felt the weight of Leon sinking into the bed next to you, both of you being such light sleepers. You wrapped your arm and leg over him, placing your head on his bare chest and kissing his cheek, prompting him to duck his head down to meet your lips. 

“I missed you on your trip.” He muttered in the brief interval of you both pulling away. 

“Shut up, you’re going to make me think you’re in love with me.” He only smiled and rolled over, in a position on top of you where he could slip his hand up your baggy shirt to hold your trace his fingers along your waist as his mouth slowly worked down to your neck. 

The soft pads of his fingers eventually met with the delicate mounds of your chest, gently pinching the bud and rolling it between his fingers, all whilst marking your neck. He tried to remove your shirt, but you knew his weirdly good vision, he would see your body littered with bruises, cuts and other trinkets you acquired on your body over the last week. You stop his hand, holding it in place and shaking your head to avoid any questions from him which would be impossible to explain.

“You okay?”

“Just- want to keep my shirt on today.” He nods reluctantly, slightly sensing the off-tone of your voice. 

“Something off today?” He asks while trailing his fingers down to the lower parts of your body instead.

You shake your head, leaning up to capture his lips and avoid his questions, he seems concerned but you make quick work of getting him distracted, letting his hand continue its path down your body, pulling off your shorts, slipping his hand under the waistband.

His finger traced circles on your clit, his teeth gently biting down on your bottom lip as he slips a finger into you, making you gasp and your body instinctively buck up to meet his finger. His fingers were so thick, so talented and always like heaven, he watched your face change as he started moving, you clamping around him, completely drenched. 

"Oh, you really missed me." He smirked, making you bite your lip. He slipped a second finger in, curling them up and hitting that spot inside you, you gripped onto his arm as your hips continued to move with him, his mouth back at your neck, sucking and nipping. Your free hand was buried into his hair, the other still holding onto his forearm.

He was driving you crazy, your breathing becoming heavier and louder as your nails dug into his arm, he moved faster, you were practically soaking his fingers, the sound was filthy. 

"I had a long mission." You say embarrassed. He pulls his fingers out of you and holds them in front of your mouth.

"Open."

You part your lips slightly, and he shoves his fingers into your mouth. You start licking his fingers, tasting yourself on him, wrapping your tongue around him, looking into his eyes, they were dark and hungry, watching his fingers move in and out of your mouth, watching the way you sucked and licked them clean.

"Fuck, did I miss you too." He groaned, slipping his fingers out and leaning down to kiss you, he could still taste the slight tinge of you on his lips. You wrapped your legs around him, he pulled away, his eyes scanning your neck and then back up to meet your eyes, his hand slipped up your shirt to grab at your breast, his thumb gently grazing the scab he could feel under your shirt. "What's this?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Did you get hurt?"

"It's fine, don't worry." He nods, doubtfully. You kiss his neck until he pulls away, ripping your legs open to kiss the flesh of your thighs, slowly moving up until he hits what's in between. His tongue laps against the damp fabric, you whine, he pulls the fabric aside and immediately begins lapping up at your folds, your hips moving with him, and his hand pushing down, pinning your hips against the bed.

"So impatient." He says, kissing it.

"Leon, please."

He doesn't tease anymore, burying his face into your pussy, his nose nudging your clit, his tongue flicking in and out of you, tasting you again. He pushes two fingers into you again, curling them up and moving them in and out, his other hand holding you down as he eats you out, you were squirming, moaning loudly, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

"Ah- I- fuck, Leon, I'm gonna-" Your walls tightened around him, the knot in your stomach snapped, a warm and pleasurable feeling spread across your body, he slowed his pace, dragging his tongue out slowly to catch the juices running out of you, before sitting up and wiping his face, crawling up the bed.

"Fuck, I missed that." He grinned.

"Shut up." You kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips. He moves your panties to the side, dragging his tip against you to get himself wet, before lining up and pushing in, making you gasp and bury your head into the crook of his neck. "Oh, fuck, Leon."

"Shit, you feel so good." He grunted, starting to move his hips, gripping onto the flesh of your hips, you held onto his arms, feeling his muscles flex and move. His thrusts were hard and fast, the room was filled with the sound of his hips meeting your skin, the squelching sound of you both, his grunts, your whimpers, his name constantly on your lips, his praises and his dirty words, all his sweet nothings that felt so real. Fuck, he was such a good liar.

"Leon-" You moaned, squeezing his arms.

"Give it to me, sweetheart."

"Oh, Leon-!" You cried out as you came, tightening around him, feeling him twitch inside you and warmth filling you from the inside. He slowed his pace, riding out your orgasms and then slowly pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to you, quickly getting a towel to wipe you both up. He slips back into bed, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Leon…?” You ask quietly a few minutes later. He hums in response. “What are we?” You felt his body tense up instantly from beneath you.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I mean… we’re basically cohabiting instead of being roommates.” He doesn’t reply. “Let me ask you an easier question. Do you like me?”

“Of course I do.”

“More than friends?”

He sighs. “Why don’t you just go to sleep? We can talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

You nod, trying to remain optimistic about it. You doubt there’s a chance he doesn’t like you unless he’s an utter sociopath. The way his arms wrap around you now must mean something, how he strokes your hair as you fall back to sleep.

Little did you know, Leon got barely any sleep tonight. Maybe managing to get a light rest at 5 am. He should’ve expected the question, but he didn’t. Of course, his luck evading it had run out, did he really expect he’d continue like this forever? 

He hated the idea of talking about this, he hated the idea of talking about any of his feelings. Every relationship she had ever had in his life, his parents, mission partner, his ex-girlfriends had only ever left him or died. He knew he had been lying to you as well, the nature of his job he wouldn’t even be able to disclose to you. And it would only put you in danger, no matter how much your laughter warmed his heart, your presence at night shielding him from his night terrors, the way your small little intricacies and-

He hated the idea of falling in love again, but he already knew it was too late. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let this go on this long.

The next morning, he woke up at 9 and couldn’t get himself back to sleep, laying there regardless to give your pretty head a soft pillow. You only woke up 30 minutes later, squeezing your arms around him and propping yourself up on his chest to kiss his nose.

“Morning.”

…

After breakfast, you both ended up spending the whole day on the couch watching movies and then reading. Getting some food ordered to the house as you lazed around in pyjamas, but you could now feel a slight tension from Leon. He didn’t return as many of your touches or show as much emotion. 

You put your book down, looking up at him. 

“So my question.”

“What question?”

“The one I asked last night.”

“Oh… That question,” He sighs and closes his book, looking you in the face. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Well, flatmates with benefits… I guess the thing I’m really getting at is that I like you a lot, and I think we should be more than that.”

The moment of uncomfortable silence rips you apart slowly. When he looks at you, he can see Ada, Claire, his ex, every single woman who has ruined him, every single time it’s never worked out. He can see the pain on your face when he eventually tells you who he’s working for, and he can see the pain on your face now. 

He shifts his eyes down, and his next words come out slowly, thinking deeply about his response. “You want me… But you wouldn’t want us…”

“What? Leon, I love what we have. I love us right now.” You say, holding his hands, looking into his eyes deeply as he looks back up at you. 

“Then we can keep what we have.” He says, softly.

“Right… Okay… I’m sorry I think I was just getting the wrong idea.” You say, leaning back on the coach defeatedly, out of it as you think back disappointedly. There’s no way you could have gotten the wrong idea, were you an idiot?

“Please don’t take it the wrong way.” He said, sitting up to cup your face, only this time you sat there still, no reaction, so unlike you, it already hurt him and he should’ve expected this, yet he can’t get over it. “I like you so much, I think you’re wonderful. And it’s me, it’s not you. You don’t want me. You know how often I’m out with my job.”

“So am I, I just thought we’d go together well. Low maintenance relationship, similar dedication to our jobs, our holidays usually line up as well.”

“But that could change at any time.” He sighs deeply. “I just don’t think that it’s a good time for me to get into a relationship, as much as I would love to, with you.” He watches you bite your lip, nodding your head slowly. For fucks sake, how is it that he manages to ruin every good thing in his life? To hurt every good thing in his life when he knows that this couldn’t go anywhere? Now he’s fucking lying to you too, relationships scare him more than anything, he hasn’t even thought about one in the last 6 years, he couldn’t even admit to himself how much he loved you.

“I understand.” You said, standing up, he held your wrist stopping you from walking off.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want to hurt you.” He knew he could die at any time, the fact he was still alive was a ridiculous stroke of luck, and it had been so long, that he didn’t even know if he was capable of loving someone anymore, it was already so confusing. “Please don’t let this affect you.”

“Hurt me? How could you possibly hurt me?” You said, frustrated with the vagueness of everything he’s said, left wondering with festering feelings and no idea what was going on. You knew something was off, you could sense it in his tone, something you had too much experience with dealing with, interrogations. 

“I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend.”

“Well that’s a lie, you’ve acted like a good one and we’re not even dating, so what are you not telling me, Leon?”

“What?” He said, incredulously.

“You’re hiding something.” His gut twists, but he can act naturally. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Is it another girl? Have you been lying?”

“No!”

“Then what is it? I’m not stupid, with all this vagueness you’re giving me, skipping around the real reason.” Fuck. He needs to come up with something. 

“I’m not.”

“Say it.” 

“I don’t-” His eyes drop down to your wrist, he was holding onto, seeing a deep scab under your shirt - his instincts take a hold of him, lifting up the sleeve and seeing the amalgamation of cuts, bruises, you pull your hand away straight away. “What is that?” He says, worried. 

“It���s not important.”

“Is that what you didn’t want me to see last night? There’s more, isn’t there?” 

“There’s not- It’s just.” He stands up, stepping towards you, and you back yourself into a wall. He puts his hand out for your other arm, not saying a word. 

“Why do you care? I’m not anything to you.” He keeps his hand out, wordlessly. “Leon.” You say, warningly. You try to sidestep him but he grabs both of your wrists, you break yourself out effortlessly, and he raises an eyebrow at how you’ve done it so easily, with the exact military technique. He slams his hand against the wall to stop you from leaving, you try to step under, getting stopped by him again. 

“What are you hiding?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. All you’ve been doing to me is lying.”

“Show it to me.”

“Why?”

“I want to see what happened.” His hand grabs your wrist again, roughly to an extent that you can’t overpower. You quickly knock your legs between his, knocking him on the floor with his grip still tight on your wrists so you fall with him. How do you know how to do that? He thinks, and with such a graceful agility and power like you do this every other day. He rolls over, his weight on your waist so you really can’t move. To try to flip him with your hips but he keeps himself down, and although he was expecting it, you manage to do it again although with some strain. 

He grabs your ankle as you try to quickly run off him, quickly putting you underneath him again, keeping his pressure firmly on your hips and your wrists above your head. And how does he know how to detain people so easily? It’s not just his strength, it’s his calculated movements. 

“Don’t you dare.” His hand pulls up your shirt, to his absolute horror a bruise so dark it’s basically black covers half of your stomach, cuts on every inch, some long and deep. He had seen your scars, but this was fresh. 

“What is this?” He says, looking at you. He had seen some cuts and bruises on your thigh last night, which were ignored, but it was nothing compared to your top half. You turn away, refusing to look at him in frustration.

“I told you to stop.”

“What is this? What happened?” You don’t answer. “Who did this to you?” You manage to split you arms apart, breaking out of his hold, and flipping him over again, taking all of your strength.

“Leon, please. Stop it. Haven’t you hurt me enough today?” He holds your thighs down against him, not letting you get up. 

“Do you honestly think I’m enjoying this?! Do you honestly think I enjoy hurtning you?!” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Please tell me, Y/n. I can’t look at you like that, I’m sorry, I can’t. I care about you.”

“I got mugged on my business trip and I thought I could fight back because of some stupid self-defence classes!” Is what you manage to come up with. “Now can you fucking leave me alone?!” You rip his hands off of your legs, finally getting up, you feel him coming up behind you and you slap his arms away. You see a call on his phone on the couch, you stare at it until it stops ringing. Hunnigan. Then two messages. ‘Call me asap.’ ‘I need you.’

“I’m so fucking stupid.” You said, walking back to your room. 

“Let me explain.”

“I’ve seen enough.”

“Wait!” You slam your bedroom door, and he has no choice but to pick up that phone call. In a matter of minutes, he’s run out with his bag, and who knows where to. 

Hunnigan had called him about an emergency relating to a breakout of Las Plagas in the lab, and he needed to detain it. He texts you on his way there. 

‘She’s my colleague, it’s a work emergency.’ It’s been a matter of months and his job has already completely fucked up everything. But you? His head is rushing with you, with that little fight. Why were you so tactical? Why were you battered up? You must’ve been trained. He shakes his head, trying to chalk it up to some self-defence classes although it doesn’t feel right. He clears his head for the next few hours. 

You’re stuck in your room in shock about what has just happened. Rejection? Fine. Well, not fine, but it was better now than later. But he saw everything. What type of questions does that bring up? That came out of nowhere, everything built up to that 5 minutes where everything came out, every doubt brought up in those 5 minutes. And why is he trained? Dear lord.

He tries calling you, sending you a message on his way there. You don’t even know if you believe him, she might be why he doesn’t want to commit. You groan, calling Jill.

“Hey, it’s early, you alright?” She asks. 

“Are you free?” 

“Yeah, I’m going out with Carlos to the shooting range. Wanna come?”

“I’ll be over in 10.”

“What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there, it’s a lot.”

“Alright, love you, bye.” You hang up the phone, getting out immediately before you can let yourself think any more about it. Jill had no idea what you worked as, making it only more difficult to try explain things. She was waiting outside her house for you to give you a hug as soon as you got out of the car. 

“Is it Leon?” She said, knowingly. You nod. 

“Oh God, what did that idiot do now?”

“He’s hiding something from me.” Her stomach dropped, Jill may not have known about you, but she knew Leon’s job and every single detail, the fact he had somehow gotten you to catch on was even more concerning given how good he was at hiding things, although she knew how perceptive you could be, maybe it wasn’t a good idea letting you both meet each other. 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s, I don’t know… He’s hiding something. I told him I liked him because we’ve been…”

“Sleeping together?” She finished. “Thought so, we’ll talk about that later. Continue.”

“He said you don’t want me, his job, something about how I wouldn’t want us, it was just all vague and I can just tell. Then he got a call from this girl named Hunnigan and he left straight away.” Relief washed over her, oddly. Hunnigan was a colleague, at least he wasn’t actually cheating, and you didn’t suspect him. 

“You think he’s sleeping around.”

“No… But, who gets a call from their coworker on a Saturday morning saying ‘come now, I need you.’?”

“I guarantee you he’s not sleeping with her, that’s his colleague and she’s a lesbian.”

“Well then I think he’s hiding something from me, I just don’t know what. And we got into a physical altercation.” Carlos came out, he was listening from the doorway. 

“He hit you?” He burst out. 

“Carlos!” Jill shouted, slapping the back of his head. 

“I wanted to hear the gossip for myself!” He said, bashfully. 

“Let’s just talk about this inside.” She said, letting you in. 

“No, he didn’t hit me but he grabbed my wrist when I was trying to leave and saw some bruises, we fought as he was trying to see my other wrists and… he’s trained?”

Carlos and Jill looked at each other worriedly, did he just get himself figured out? 

“How do you know he’s trained?”

“I took some classes and I was a cadet in secondary school. I can tell he’s literally trained, to perfection. So what the fuck? Is he cheating on me or is he a fucking… I don’t know, some kind of mercenary, assassin, agent?” You say, finally trying to put the dots together. 

“He was a cop.” Carlos said. 

“For 1 day.”

“He trained before that, and he was the top of his class. It makes sense.” You drag your hands down your face in frustration, leaning back on the couch. His training was almost 6 years ago, why would he ever remember it?

“What is going on?”

Jill sits forward. “You’re overthinking things. His coworker called him, and he was trained in the police force. Maybe he just doesn’t want a relationship?” Which would make sense, knowing Leon who’s afraid to hurt anyone, who would have to keep secrets from you for the rest of your life. 

“He’s told me.” Carlos butts in. “He’s had a lot of difficulty with past relationships because of his jobs, being a cop, and the one he has now. His ex, of how many years he had broken up with him when he became a cop. His other one died in Raccoon City, he doesn’t have a good track record.” He thinks for another second. “You promise me you won’t tell anyone because he’ll actually fucking kill me himself.”

“I swear.”

“He likes you, he’s in denial but I swear he does, he doesn’t shut up about you and whatever you guys have been running around doing.”

“And you didn’t tell me, Carlos?!” Jill shouts. “And neither did you tell me what was going on Y/n!”

“I said he’d kill me! Because you’d tell her!” She crosses her arms annoyedly, that’s going to be long for Carlos later. But secretly, at least you’re off of Leon’s case, of course they have to do his work for him. 

“He hasn’t admitted it to himself yet but he does. He’s scared of committing to someone else again and having the same thing repeat. He’s not with anyone else, he just doesn’t know what’s going on in his own head, I don’t blame him for everything he’s been through.”

You nod your head slowly. He wasn’t playing you, you’re still confused. “So what? What am I meant to do?”

“Just give him some time. Keep telling him. Try talk to him.”

“I… I don’t know if I can after what happened. I’m still mad at him, he tackled me for fucks sake, doing everything I told him not to. I’m still having doubts.” You end up going to the shooting range with them, agreeing to just try and take your mind off of him. You find yourself frustrated throughout the extension of it, it still hurts. 

… 

Leon was stuck on the truck to the lab, trying to clear his head, but he just couldn’t. You were trained, fine, you had an excuse for that as off as he felt forcing himself to believe it. Even worse, you wanted him as more than friends, he loved hearing those words come out of your mouth, but it terrified him. It didn’t matter anyway as he already ruined his chances. 

He thinks about messaging you again, but he can’t. Those cuts and bruises everywhere on you play on his mind like a constant film on repeat, pissing him off every time it flashed in his head, it was even worse every time he thought about the fact you could let yourself get hurt. The argument had him heated enough to take it out with a rampage at work. What was going on with you?

...

Part 2 guys? I don't know whether I should continue it or not.

[strawbslvr]

How shifting finds us at the right time! + Me before and after shifting.

TW!!!! Mention of su!c!de, family issues, depression, fucked up mental health! And lots of yapping!

@a-fish-learningtowalk

Let’s go back all the way to 2022. At the start of the year I found out about subliminals, so basically I was scrolling through YouTube and there was this video that popped up every time I refreshed my home page. It was something like “Glow up in a day” ,the thumbnail was a pretty girl and the video was like 1 minute and something long so I was like “why are they capping, glow up in a day and the literal video is 1 minute long??! What a sick joke” but out of curiosity I clicked it and then I was welcomed with MUSIC and then I was like “hah! I knew they were capping, this is just music!” But I went to the comment section and there were literally people saying

“Omg this is a masterpiece! My mom came to my room and told me how pretty I look”

Then someone was also like “this literally gave me results in a week.

Edit: A GIRL TOLD ME IN SCHOOL HOW PRETTY I LOOK!!!”

Those were the comments that I still remember cause they confused me the most. After that I was just like ???tf? But when I went to the description I saw a term “sub” few times and then there was used the term “subliminal” so I just assumed that the term sub was just short for subliminal.

I went and searched what the fuck did I just see aka I just searched what is subliminal. There was this woman in a video that explained it and at first i obviously was like “what the fuck? This is so cool and too good to be true” cause babe wdym I can listen to an audio that can change my appearance and all of that stuff.

Well that’s how I just viewed it to be which isn’t exactly the case.

I listened to some subs for the rest of the night but I was just so disappointed when I woke up the next day and saw no results and just immediately guessed that this was just plain cap. And after that I stopped listening to subliminal but the craziest part was like I totally forgot they existed like after that. (I will tell more later!)

Summer 2022

At this time I got into my k-pop phase I was constantly daydreaming of my group and how I wanted it to be, literally imagining scenarios throughout the day and I literally wrote in Pinterest “K-pop idol scenarios”💀 I was deadass.

Then in one scroll I found a bunch of scenarios from TikTok, (they were just screenshotted and put into Pinterest.) it was like “scenarios for your K-pop Dr” at first I was like tf is a Dr? But I just decided to ignore it and move on and just read the scenarios cause they were good but that Dr term continued to pop in every picture I saw and then I truly got curious. To which resulted in me searching what is a Dr? Google said it’s a short for desired reality, and I just assumed sum stupid shit.

Anyways 2022 came to an end. And I TOTALLY forgot about subliminals and K-pop idol scenarios and tf is a Dr. like I’m not joking I totally forgot those existed.

2023 start.

The year I turned 18, yippeee!! So the start of the year was somewhat ok, few months later I started getting problems with my parents. Arguments with my parents, especially dad increased like A LOT. My parents started to get mad at some stupid stuff, their temper was just like shit. School started pressuring and at that period I had A LOT of exams (I still do but 👀) I didn’t have time for myself and I also got sick a lot. And few months passed in this environment and at some point I just admitted that I feel anxious, stressed, suffocated and depressed. Then I got told that my aunt is suffering from this sickness and she needs to do surgery but they had financial issues and the surgery got postponed a lot due to the money missing and that didn’t help my aunt’s health at all. and bro feeling shitty isn’t a surprise at this point. At some stage I decided if this is the life I’m going to live, I don’t want to live at all. I was very su!c!dal, and I attempted like two times but luckily didn’t do it.

2023 summer

One subliminal popped into my YouTube page again, it was something like “goddess like beauty, confidence and a better self concept” thing I’m not sure and then I was like “oh right! These things exist!” And I just listened to it for fun and surprisingly I felt better in few days. And those were few of the best days in the last 6 months of my life. I started actively listening to subliminals and actively affirming. I’m talking about every morning and every night before I go to sleep at least for 30 minutes. And then dududuudud

I found a subliminal about reality shifting and then I again was like “wait? This is that reality traveling thing, how can I forget this?” And I actually asked myself why didn’t I try it before? The summer my journey was honestly mostly jokes and fun, didn’t take it seriously and just did it for the excitement it gave me. But about 2023 fall I actively started scripting and took the journey a bit more seriously than before.

2024 fall. Now.

I still got a lot to improve and a mindset to work on. But I’m just happy of where I am now. I found a reason to live for and like a dark tunnel where at the end you find the light. Shifting brought me hope and genuine peace knowing something like this exists. My aunt did the surgery and she is healing little by little but at least she can practice her normal day life,she still got some checks here and there but nothing compared to what she was in before. I seriously stopped listening to anti shifter since they are just trying to demotivate y’all and me too. If I haven’t found out about shifting I don’t think I would still be here. Shifting seriously finds us at the time we need it the most!

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part 1

author's note: hi! remember that time i wrote jack fics? well i'm branching out, so BUCKLE UP BABY. it should be said that this will be multiple parts, i don't know how many though so again, buckle up. also i'm pretending the trade never happened

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, mentions of absent parent

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the awkward elevator interactions when you were leaving work and he was getting home.

you nannied for a family in his building, a mom named erin who was rarely home with two really sweet children, ages 2 and 4.

you didn't even know his name until a few weeks after he moved in when erin mentioned his name in passing conversation, saying something about an nhl player living across the hall.

"i think he's around your age," she said with a sly smirk. "and handsome too, introduced himself to the kids too. such a sweetheart."

"erin," you started. "you can't possibly know he's a sweetheart from one two second interaction."

she tsked and waved you off. "first impressions have a great impact."

you met him when you were getting off the elevator. he had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and wore a suit, his hair was wet and strewn about in every direction. you were in a pair of sweats to combat the cold.

he mumbled a small hey and made a pathetic excuse for a smile as he waited for you to get off the elevator.

everything you knew about him, you gleaned involuntarily. he must suck at cooking given the amount of times the smoke detector would go off in his place, you could hear the beeping through the walls. and his lack of cooking skills took shape in the trash bags filled with take out boxes that he loudly dumped in the trash chute. you even knew he had a best friend named "tito" from the shouting that erupted every time said friend came over.

you thought nothing of him aside from the mild annoyance at his loud noises.

it wasn't until the fall came and the two year old turned three (and therefore went off to preschool) that things changed.

you'd just settled into your pajamas when erin called asking you to come over.

"is everything alright?" you asked.

"you remember mat?"

"hardly."

she laughed through the phone, though it sounded a little strained. "can you come over? he's found himself in a bit of a situation."

you paused. "what kind of situation?"

spoiler alert: it was an eight month old baby girl kind of situation.

mat was sitting on erin's couch while the baby, whose name was apparently ella, snoozed away in the pack and play when you walked in.

erin explained the situation as you took a seat. something about a fling he had that resulted in a pregnancy (obviously) and the mom decided parenting just wasn't for her so she dropped the baby off with mat and has blocked him on all forms of communication.

erin leant some things like a pack and play for ella to sleep in until he got a crib. but he didn't need that as much as he needed you.

a nanny.

"i know you already have a job, but i can pay well and pay you more for watching all three kids when you have them," mat begged. "i know i have late games so it would require late nights but you can sleep in the guest room if you'd like and i might be gone for a week at a time, but you can invite friends over to hang out and--"

you held up a hand. listening to the man beg and plead for your help was almost heartbreaking. "i'll do it."

he sat back. "what, really?"

you furrowed your brows. "is that a problem?"

mat shook his head. "no! sorry, i was just surprised you'd agree so quickly.

"well, it's not like it would interfere with my time with erin's girls. i could watch your baby during the day and take her to pick up the girls from school and keep ella until you get back."

he still looked unsure. "i work late nights sometimes, is that a problem?"

you thought about the fact your schedule has been empty for the past few months, that the only reason you leave your shitty apartment was because erin needed you to nanny. "i think i can manage."

he smiled for the first time that evening, looking almost near tears. "thank you thank you thank you," he said.

you nodded, a little overwhelmed by his sudden change in demeanor. "when do i start?"

day one

you hesitantly walked into mat's big ass apartment to the sound of a screaming baby.

it was six in the morning.

mat ran into the living room, hair askew, clothes wrinkled, but his baby was in a clean set of pajamas with tears running down her face.

"i don't know what's wrong," he said frantically. "she woke up and i changed her diaper but she's still crying."

you dropped your bag on the floor and made your way over to him, taking ella out of his arms and immediately bouncing her in your own. "she's probably hungry," you guessed.

"i tried that! i put the bottle in the microwave but when i gave it to her she started crying harder and--"

"wait," you stopped him. "you put the bottle in the microwave?" he nodded. "with the formula?" he nodded again. "mat, you can't do that. heat the water separately and then add the formula. and then test it on your wrist to make sure it's the right temperature." you walked into the kitchen and prepared the bottle the right way, showing mat how to do it as you went.

when all was said and done, you placed the new bottle in ella's mouth and watched as she took it without issue.

mat's shoulders sagged in relief. "you're a miracle worker."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "you can go get ready, mat. i've got her from here." he nodded and hurried towards what you assumed was his bedroom while you walked over to the couch to sit down.

ella was a cute baby, you'd give her that. no doubt taking after her father. she looked at you with wide eyes as she drank her bottle, her irises never left your face. it would've been unnerving if she had been an adult.

mat came out a little less frazzled ten minutes later. ella had finished her bottle at that point and the both of you were laid on the floor doing tummy time.

"what's that?" he pointed to the two of you once he stopped running his hands through his hair.

"what's what?"

"what's that you're doing?" he gestured again before placing his hands on his hips.

"tummy time," you smiled. "it helps build her neck muscles. also helps prevent flat spots on the back of her head."

you didn't like to judge people for their skin color, because it's racist, but you didn't think it was possible for mat to be paler until you spoke.

"she could get flat spots?"

you hung your head as ella babbled to herself.

it was going to be a long employment.

day ten

you'd finally gotten mat on a rhythm, he looked a little less scared with every day that you came over.

but today was different.

he was going on an eight day roadie which meant you would be watching her overnight several nights in a row (on top of erin's kids).

you'd done much harder jobs before, so you weren't nervous about the time you spent with ella, it was more so you feared all the confidence you built in the week or so you'd worked for mat would disappear when he came back and realized he had an eighteen year commitment waiting at home for him.

"you have my number, right?" he asked even though you got it the night you accepted the position.

"yes, mat," you said instead.

"and you'll text me if anything goes wrong?"

you nodded. you bounced ella on your hip and held her hand up. "bye dada," you said for her, smiling as she did.

mat's bags were stationed by the front door, but he made no move towards them. he stayed planted in front of you, but his hands fidgeted.

"can i--" he cleared his throat. "can i hold her?"

"of course!" you didn't hesitate to pass her off to mat, who handled her like precious cargo, but was still a little unsure about the entire situation.

once she was settled, he took his eyes off her to look at you. "you know where the guest room is, right?" you nodded. "right, just make yourself at home. i stocked the fridge, i have just about every streaming service, so you should be fine." he paused. "but if you aren't--"

"mat--"

"--you can just text me if you need anything, alright?" he turned his head to focus on ella who took her hands to slap to his cheeks. "and you be good, okay baby?" his voice pitched higher right before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

you checked your watch to keep yourself from intruding on what felt like a special moment. "mat," you started. "you should get going before you're late."

he nodded and pressed one last kiss to the top of ella's head before passing her back to you. "i'll facetime you when i get to the hotel, okay? so i can tell her goodnight?"

you nodded and left out the part that she would probably be asleep because honestly, you weren't expecting him to remember.

"alright," he said, wiping his hands on his pants before making his way to the front door where his bags sat. "i'll see you in a week."

"bye bye dada," you said in a high squeaky voice, using ella's hand to wave just like before.

he smiled before walking out the door and locking it behind him.

day fourteen

it wasn't until halfway through mat's roadie that weariness settled in. you were constantly surrounded by children, which normally wouldn't be an issue, but between ella and erin's two kids, you were practically a full time single parent.

which sucked because it wasn't even like you got laid to even create this issue.

mat, though, true to his word, facetimed every night he possibly could. he smiled wide every time he saw ella's face and while she was confused at how your phone worked, ella smiled and laughed at the sound of her father's voice.

"what have you been up to?" he asked one evening. you were spoon feeding ella sweet potato puree for dinner while he was laying in bed in his hotel room.

"nothing really, we went to the park today, she was really happy to see a few dogs."

mat grumbled. "certainly didn't get that from me."

you couldn't help it, you smiled at his pout.

"is that--" he guffawed. "did i make you smile?"

you rolled your eyes. "i'm sure i've smiled at you before."

"you haven't!"

"and i don't blame you!" another voice piped in. "he's not funny."

when mat saw the look on your face, he sighed. "that's tito," he said like that explained everything.

"nice to meet you, tito!" you called.

"is that your nanny?" you heard him call. "can i say hi to ella?"

mat rolled his eyes but moved the camera to show you a good looking man lounging in the other bed. he was handsome in a way that mat wasn't. you couldn't really compare one to the other in the same way you couldn't compare an apple to quantum physics.

"ella can you say hi?" you asked in a small voice. ella spared a single glance to camera before screaming. you laughed before spoon feeding her more puree. "sorry," you started. "she does that sometimes."

tito looked terrified but covered it up quickly when mat cleared his throat. "she just screams randomly?"

you shrugged. "usually when she's excited or frustrated."

tito laid back in his bed and started scrolling on his phone. "babies, man."

mat came back into view. his head rested back on his pillow as he held the camera above his face. "are you both doing okay?"

you opened your mouth to reply but tito cut him off.

"you don't need to ask her that everyday!" he said.

you couldn't see what he did, but judging by the shaking of the camera and the cackle that escaped tito's lips, you'd give your left leg and say he flipped his best friend off.

you took your eyes off the camera to look at ella who was using her puree covered hands to rub at her eyes. you put your phone down and grabbed a napkin to immediately start wiping her face and hands.

"is everything okay?" mat asked. "did i lose you?"

"just had to put the phone down to clean her up. she's getting sleepy." you pulled ella out of her high chair, resolving to clean it up later, and picked your phone up.

mat's face lit back up when ella came into view. "hi baby girl," he smiled. "are you getting ready to go to bed?"

ella rested her head on your shoulder and yawned.

"well, i'll let you two go," mat sighed. "i love you, ella bean." he directed his gaze to you. "same time tomorrow?"

"i'll let you know if anything changes."

"night."

"night, mat."

he ended the call and left you to take ella to bed.

day twenty-seven

nearly a month into working for mat and everything was going great. ella had gotten used to you which meant she knew you would come back when you left the room. the first two weeks, she cried every time you left. and if you had to guess, it probably had something to do with how her mother treated her.

and mat, well, he was embracing the father role well enough for someone who thought he was an unattached bachelor not even a month ago.

as far as you go, you were still getting used to the workload of erin's kids and ella. and while you would never breathe a word of it to anyone, you preferred ella over erin's kids.

your roommate and your boyfriend took some time to adjust to your new hours, but your roommate was excited when you contributed more to groceries and apartment needs. as far as your boyfriend went, he was still getting used to the idea of you being gone all day and sometimes even weekends, but even he admitted ella was the cutest baby he'd ever seen.

you were plating yogurt and some smashed peaches for her morning snack while holding her on your hip when mat walked in the kitchen, hair wet from a shower.

"hey," he said. "how is she?"

at the sound of his voice, ella turned in your arms and made a grabby motion for him. "you tell me," you said, handing her off to him. almost immediately, ella rested her head in the crook of his neck and popped a thumb in her mouth.

a smile crossed his face at the way ella fit so perfectly into the lines of his body.

"you're good at this," you remarked.

he laughed. "i have no idea what i'm doing."

"does anyone?"

"you seem to have it figured out."

the laugh was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "well then, let me go audition for broadway. i'm a better actress than i thought."

neither of you said a word, but you continued to stare at each other until his phone dinged. mat shifted ella around until he could fish his phone out of his pocket. "oh it's my mom." he scrolled through the texts when a figurative lightbulb appeared over his head.

"what?" you asked.

"my family is coming into town to meet ella next week so that might affect the hours you have." a flash of panic must've been present on your face because he quickly spoke again. "but your pay will still be the same! i don't want you to worry about that at all. i might still need you throughout the week."

"okay!" you smiled before moving ella's morning snack to her high chair. mat peeled her off of him and placed her in the seat before taking the chair next to hers.

his phone dinged again.

"oh," he said.

"what is it?"

"my mom wants to meet you."

"oh."

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Samantha Carpenter x fem reader. (If you're doing requests, I'm not 100% sure if you are or not,please.)

Reader is Amber Freeman's half older sister (Sam Carpenter's age). Amber knows that Stu Macher is her sister's father, which she is jealous of. So after attacking Tara and luring Sam back to Woodsboro, Amber attacks Reader at Ambers and rs house. (Sam and Reader dated before Sam left, and once they've all moved to NYC, they get back together. R is also a little reliant on alcohol and weed after everything that happened.)

Holding On To You

Words: 3.3k (I think)

Relationships: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader, Sibling!Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader, Implied/Referenced Tara Carpenter x Amber Freeman, Chad Meeks-Martin x Tara Carpenter, Mindy Meeks-Martin x Anika Kayoko

I wrote this this fic in bits, so the timeline is kinda jumbled. I only arranged which part should go where when I finished writing and decided to imply Tamber last minute because why not? Also, Amber's dad raised r as his own, which is why r refers to them as her parents.

The ' * * *' means a long period of time has passed.

Warnings: (18+) this is definitely not my best work, poorly written fight scene, angst, violence, cussing, grief, suggestive themes, reader has problems with alcohol. lmk if I missed any! (I don't remember if the core four were drinking alcohol in Sam and Tara's apartment, so I put something else here)

A/N: I didn't intend for half the fic to focus on reader's dynamic with Amber, but I felt like it's important to show how torn she is by how she feels with what happened. Sorry if I made it too angsty and not what you (anon) asked for 😭

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

-

Your phone buzzed at the same time you were about to go up the stairway leading to your room. Determining that whoever is texting you is more important than sleep, you unlock the cellular device to read the message.

(1:49 a.m.)

Amber: Tara was attacked.

Three words. Fifteen letters.

Your body turns stiff as if there was a supernatural force compelling you to stay still. Tara was attacked. The first thought that went to your mind was ‘is she okay?’ but for some reason you can’t explain, your fingers typed in different words.

(1:50 a.m.)

You: Does Sam know?

Is Tara in the hospital?

How is she?

(1:51 a.m.)

Amber: Such dumb questions. What you should be asking yourself is ‘who’s next?’

Your brows furrow and you frown. She shouldn’t be saying that, you thought. Amber was peculiar but if there was one thing you were sure she’s best at, it was being there for Tara - protecting her. The person on the other side of the screen that you’re talking to feels different from the Amber you know. Something is off.

(1:55 a.m.)

You: Don’t say shit like that, Amber. Tara got hurt. This is serious.

(1:55 a.m.)

Amber: Oh, this isn’t Amber.

(1:56 a.m.)

You: Then who are you?

(1:56 a.m.)

Amber: You’ll find out soon enough.

The chances of being given ample interval to question the sender of the text who is definitely not Amber reduces to zero the second a masked figure creeps behind you and slashes your arm. “What the fuck?!” Blood trickles down your skin, the wound deep enough to nearly make you see your bones. You have to look away from your own body or else you might collapse from the mere sight of it.

You’re panting, looking into the mask of your attacker. He tilts his head at you tauntingly. “And here I thought that the daughter of Stu Macher would put up more of a fight.”

You don’t react, but you run for the kitchen, grabbing the first breakable object you can find: the floral vase.

When Ghostface attempts to lunge forward, you aim the vase at his head, but he dodges swiftly, leaving the vase to smash against the newly-painted wall. You grimace. Your parents were gonna kill you the moment they decide to hop on their plane and get home. “They’re going to be so mad at me.” You complain while grabbing a kitchen knife.

This will do.

“What are you planning to do with that knife?” Ghostface wonders mockingly.

You make a face at him, “No more talking.”

And just like that, you got into a knife fight. You manage to stab Ghostface in the abdomen. He rolls over, his hand going over his stomach to assess the damage. Smiling triumphantly, you let your guard down, which proved to be an error of yours as Ghostface recovers enough to dig his knife near your chest. You drop your weapon, feeling your eyes flutter shut. Your attacker slowly removes his mask, shocking you, yet it was like the time you fade out of consciousness was also planned since you pass out way before you can see what he looks like.

* * *

“We’re waiting for you downstairs.”

You stop what you were doing to look up at Tara. She sends you a sympathetic look and you shoot her one back. “I’ll finish up in 5 minutes.” You say, motioning to the clothes that are yet to be packed into your suitcase.

“Okay.” Tara’s attention is drawn to the picture frame on the nightstand. It was of you and Amber when you were children. She was wearing a pirate costume while you wore a witch’s. “Are you bringing that with you?”

“Yes.” You reply, taking the frame in your hands, fingers ghosting over the photograph. “It was one of our happiest memories together. She was such a sweet kid. I’d like to remember her that way instead of…” You trail off, taking a sharp intake of breath. A month has passed since your sister attacked you and murdered people. You’d never know why she did it nor do you want to. Some things are better left unsaid. Tara, however, felt the opposite. She knew Amber differently and you can understand how she feels, to an extent. “You can keep it if you want. I have other photos in this room stored somewhere.”

Even though Tara shakes her head ‘no’, she is appreciative. “No, it’s fine. I have pictures of my own too.”

The two of you bask in the silence. No other words needed to be shared. Tara leaves you alone after that, but the space she formerly occupied isn’t left empty for long when Sam appears by the doorway.

You grin when you see her, “Hi.” It’s the first time in days that you managed to smile authentically. Going through the worst thing imaginable can dim someone’s light and you were in no position to pretend that everything was okay when circumstances proved the opposite. Although it pained you to think about that night, seeing Sam made you feel that you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” She replies. “Ready to go?”

“Most definitely.” You answer with the truth as you zip up your last bag, ready to leave this place behind and start anew.

Sam holds out her hand, “Come on.”

You don’t take one last look back. You’d be lying if you said you would miss this house. Everything direful that happened in Woodsboro began here, so it is fitting that this is also where it should end.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

* * *

The bottle in your hand weighs lighter than your grief. That’s what you keep telling yourself during these types of moments. It’s a remedy. Ephemeral, maybe, but it helps you forget. That’s the one thing you could ask for.

You nurse your wounds at a bar stool. The time is a bit early for a Saturday for you to be drinking, just how you like it. You take a sip, then another, and another, making you finish your drink earlier than you’d like. “Fucking hell.” A new bottle slides over in front of you before you can ask the bartender for one more drink. Turning your attention to your side, you note a woman staring right at you, a sly smirk on her lips.

Once you give her a nod as a ‘thank you’ for the booze, you go back to the bottle, indicating you want to be left alone. Unfortunately for you, the woman does not take the hint. She moves to the stool next to yours, hoping to shoot her shot.

“Hey.” She says, her bright blue eyes shining in the dim light of the bar. Although you cannot deny that she’s attractive, you’d rather be gazing into a different pair of eyes, preferably brown ones on the face of the only girl you’ve ever loved. “I’m Jolene.”

“Hi, Jolene.” Putting down the bottle, you purse your lips, hoping that this exchange would end soon. You tense when Jolene places a hand on your right shoulder.

Jolene chuckles, unbothered by the signs that you were uneasy, “You’re a little tense.” She pauses, gauging your reaction, “I can help you relax.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but, uh. . . I’m kind of waiting for someone, so if you don’t mind. . .” You pull your arm away, pretending to look at the entrance to the bar as if you were meeting one of your friends. Truthfully, it should be a lost cause since you haven’t told anybody that you would be here, including Sam.

“Well, let me keep you company while they arrive.”

You internally groan. “Respectfully, Jolene, and I mean this in the nicest way possible since you seem like a good person, leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

Jolene smiles understandingly, about to get up and turn away, but then her mouth drops open as if she’s seen a movie star, “Wait, you’re one of the survivors of the murders at that one house in Woodsboro! Your sister tried to kill you and your biological father was a killer too, right?! Stu Macher, that’s what his name was.”

Of course. That’s why she approached you. She only pretended not to know who you were until you tried to convince her to piss off. Great. “Bye now.” You throw a fifty dollar bill on the counter, hastily running out of the place as if you were brought back to those nights spent in that house trying so desperately to get away. The feeling of tightness takes place in your chest. You see a stranger pass by with hair that looks exactly like Amber’s and you turn lugubrious. No matter what she did, she was still your sister. You want to hate her for everything she did to you, to Tara, to everyone you thought she cared for. However, missing her triumphs all the other emotions you have. Though that may not be an excuse for her wrongdoings, it makes you mourn what has and what would have been.

You wanted her to go to college. You wanted to be the one on the front row cheering her on as she accepts her diploma. You wanted to be the person she turns to for relationship advice. You would have wanted her there when both you and Sam began getting harassed online just because your fathers were serial killers. Amber would have fought anyone who attempted to cross a line. Sometimes it felt like she was your big sister even though you are technically older.

And then it hits you.

You’d always be stuck in that goddamn stupid, cursed house, persistently wishing that things had been different. That you hadn’t moved there, that your sister never met Richie, that you have the same biological father as Amber. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you realized that maybe you never left the place at all. You are in New York (You’re not deluded. You know that much.), but a piece of your heart would eternally be in Stu Macher’s house with Amber at the doorway while the other half is chasing after a love that might never be.

* * *

Sam drops by in your shared room to ask what you want for dinner. On Saturdays when neither of you are working, you and Sam order food and watch a movie that is preferably a romcom or fantasy. The unspoken rule being: watching horror is out of the equation.

She notices your swollen eyes and discards her phone on the table to comfort you. Sam climbs into your bed, arms circling around your waist in order to ground you. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

You don’t speak, fearing that your voice might crack and that it might show that you are as weak as you think you are.

But of course, Sam notices. “I know you don’t want to talk right now, so I’ll just hold onto you. If or when you want to talk, you can squeeze my hand. Is that okay?”

You shake your head in affirmation, locking your fingers with Sam’s, granting yourself the permission to crumble in her arms.

Once your heartbeat slows to a calm rhythm and the heartache subsides to a low wave that stays at your feet, you squeeze her hand three times.

“I’m listening.” Sam says, sensing your hesitance. Understanding where your diffidence comes from (she sees it in herself too), she adds, “I won’t judge you. I’m here to listen and if you want advice, I’ll try to give one. If you don’t want me to say anything, that’s fine too. Whatever works best for you.”

She is giving you the space to feel. Not a lot of people can say that and still stay after you’ve poured your heart out. Sam is different from most people because she cares. You are each other’s anchor. That’s why it doesn't take much convincing for you speak of your feelings bit by bit without worrying about falling into a rabbit hole. Knowing that Sam is there with you, listening, holding your hand, is more than enough motivation to keep going.

“. . . Sam, is it wrong? To miss Amber? The whole world tells me what she is. A murderer. But I- I saw it in her eyes that night at the party. Hesitation. Remorse. She told me that she was jealous that I got to be the one whose father was a serial killer but when she pointed the gun at my head, I saw something else flicker in her eyes. I don’t know. It’s probably just my brain making things up to make me feel better. Maybe I should just accept that my sister was a killer and move on. I shouldn’t even be feeling like this when I know she murdered people in cold blood — people I used to know. Am I crazy?” Once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. It was like you’ve been bottling this up to release it at the right moment. The memories of that night resurfaced in the forefront of your mind, acknowledging them for the first time. By now, you were laying on your back while Sam had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other still on your waist. For less than a minute, you were scared that she would push you away in a literal sense.

She didn’t.

“It’s not wrong, Y/n. She was your sister, of course you have the right to miss her. Now, I still don’t understand her motive and I won’t try to because she hurt Tara and you. But you knew her better than me or the people calling her names. You knew the kid that she was. You know what’s real. You are allowed to have your own opinion of Amber even if it isn’t what others want you to think. You’re not crazy for feeling these things. I’d be scared if you didn’t feel anything at all. It’s normal. You’re human. Don’t be too hard on yourself because of something you can’t control.” Sam says, soft but stern.

You take this opportunity to gaze into her eyes, seeing reverence, sympathy, and devotion all in one. She took the parts of yourself that you hated and treated them as if they were something sacred. When you have a person like that in your life - one who helps you accept your flaws instead of turning them away -, you start to see flowers bloom in the pieces you considered damaged. She loved the things about you that you execrated.

Before Sam, you gave love a definition: it is a thing that enfeebles you - yet that’s not all that there is to it. Love can be a chain, it can be suffocating, and there is no doubt that it can shatter you until the only thing you have left is a piece of a broken mirror to prove that it existed; but it can also be a tune (like the song you sung as a kid that you never paid much thought to), a soft bed, a dance, or a simple look a person gives that sends your heart fluttering no matter how many times you have been on the receiving end of it.

“Sam?” You call out, realizing that you’ve spent a while not responding.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening,” You say quietly. “and for not becoming a stranger.”

She smiles gently.

Your heart flutters.

* * *

Tara lets out a deep breath. She’s laying down with a novel in her hand that became abandoned three minutes ago, her attention now focused on glaring at you and Sam from her position on the couch. “Just get back together already. I’m so tired of watching you two tiptoe around each other with your unresolved feelings!” She yells, roughly flipping a page of the book in order to prove her annoyance. Sam, who was currently on dish duty, dropped a plate upon hearing Tara’s comment. (It didn’t break, fortunately.)

“Are you talking about the book or…?” Of course, Chad would be the one to make the situation far more awkward than it needs to be. You don’t hate the kid, but he does get oblivious at times, which you normally wouldn’t mind if it doesn’t affect you. Mindy punches him in the shoulder. His mouth gapes. He looks at you, then at Sam. “Ohhhh.”

“Idiot.” Mindy mumbles.

“I agree with Tara though.” Anika comments, pointing her apple drink at Tara. (You and Sam don’t allow the kids to drink at the apartment, so the only beverages available are apple and orange juice boxes.)

“Me too, babe.” Mindy beams proudly as if Anika gave the answer to an unsolvable mathematical equation and gives her girlfriend a peck on the lips.

Chad makes gagging noises, averting his eyes away from the couple.

You see the scene unfold in front of you with a smile before you turn away to take the popcorn out of the microwave. “I think we’re driving Tara crazy with the suspense.” You joke, transferring the popcorn to a bowl and placing another bag inside the microwave. Sam shoots you a questioning glance, referring to the amount of popcorn bags that were already cooked. “I was thinking that each couple would have a bag or bowl each. Mindy and Anika, Chad and Tara. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to share with me, which is why I put another-”

Sam takes out the uncooked popcorn from the microwave, interrupting what would have been your rambling, “Of course I’d share with you. You’re my girlfriend.”

You look away, unable to keep a smile off your face. “I will never get tired of hearing that.” As you busy yourself with placing the popcorn on three separate bowls, Sam observes the group on the living room.

“I think we should tell them.”

“Huh?”

“About us. It’s time, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” You take Sam’s hands in your own, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m ready.” You look at her lovingly. “How should we do it?”

Sam sports a mischievous smirk, “I know just the right way.” She ‘accidentally’ drops another plate (which, amazingly, didn’t break as well), drawing the attention of Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Anika. She gives you the go signal and you kiss her, bringing your bodies closer.

“TARA, SOMETHING’S HAPPENING IN THE KITCHEN!”

“WHAT ARE YOU- OH MY GOD!” Tara exclaims.

“CHAD, GIVE ME THE CAMERA!” Anika flails her arms chaotically for Chad’s phone, instantly snapping pictures of you and Sam the moment the device is handed to her.

Chad grins, giving you a thumbs up.

When you pull away from Sam for air, Tara runs up to you with questions at the ready. Sam did most of the talking. You added a few things here and there, looking back at how far you’ve come. The grief never went away. It’s still lingering. Except this time, you don’t feel the panic. You focus on the memories - the good and the bad. Those things are the reason why you’re where you're at right now. Although you’d have liked some of it to turn out differently, you can’t change the past, hence why you don’t shy away from what happened as much as you used to. You hold on to the memories the way you’d want to hold on to the love of your life.

“You okay?” Sam asks, rubbing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You realize that you’ve been crying. “Yeah, they’re happy tears. It’s just. . .” You breathe out, feeling the weight of hopelessness on your shoulders disappear.

It felt like finally coming home after a long journey.

[jasmine-the-fox]

Grandpa Alfred

Merry Christmas everyone!!! here is a Christmas story requested by A29Z10!

hope you all enjoy this Miraculous Ladybug x Batman fic!

Marinette felt like Ronald wasn’t her grandpa. She didn’t know who was her real grandpa though. Her dad always said his mom didn’t tell him but hoped she would one day so he could meet his real father… but that day never came… all because of Cat Noir. During an akuma battle he messed up and caused Marinette’s parents to be crushed to death… and the miraculous cure couldn’t bring them back.

Marinette was out of school for two weeks to mourn the death of her parents. She would read the last letter her grandpa Ronald wrote to her dad; he revealed how he wasn’t Tom’s actual father in the letter and she would be sad from reading it. The kwami’s worked hard to protect her from any akuma Hawkmoth might send her way.

But they couldn’t always protect her…

Once back at school… Lila and Adrien led the class to make fun of Marinette for being an orphan. Miss Bustier never made them stop and as a result her mental health was getting worst as the days past. Jagged and Penny took Mari into there care and lived with her while Gina was away, they hoped she would return soon because they were deeply worried about Marinette each day, she comes back from school looking worst.

When Gina returns to Paris she is horrified at Marinette’s condition. It broke her and she knew that Paris was no longer safe for her. So, even though it broke her grand-daughter to leave her home… she left with Gina with the help of Jagged to Gotham so Gina could bring her to an old friend of her’s who could care for Mari.

Which led to Gina seeing Alfred once more… Tom’s real father…

See, years ago… Gina and Alfred were both secret agents and were working together often… which led to Gina getting pregnant with Alfred’s child. Before she could tell him though, Alfred left to care for the Wayne’s… leaving Gina alone to give birth to Tom. When she retired, she moved to Paris and met Ronald who adopted Tom as his son and helped Gina raise him after they got married.

They both decided to not tell Tom unless they were dying… and then Ronald passed and gave Tom the truth in a letter. Gina wishes she had been in Paris when Ronald’s death came… then she would have told Tom about Alfred… but she was too late. So now… she needed to help Marinette in anyway she could. So, when she saw Alfred at the airport… she knew she had to tell him everything.

So, she asked him to have coffee with her and told him everything. It broke Alfred’s heart to know he had a son… but sadly passed before he could meet him and his wife… but now he has a grand-daughter who needs help “My friend just messaged me that she can’t watch Marinette” Gina said with a sigh “Let me, Gina. I want to know my grand-daughter better” he replied making Gina sigh and nod to his offer. So, with that, Marinette moved to the Wayne manor.

Gina waited with her as Alfred picked up Bruce who had gone to Japan for a business deal. His biological son was at school and his adopted kids were all working at the moment so they would be back later in the day. Mari was sadly nervous about the whole thing but Gina promised that everything would be alright in the end for her and that she would be happy once more in no time.

And she was right…

When Alfred returned with Bruce, he sat down in the kitchen with his granddaughter while Bruce spoke to Gina to understand Marinette’s situation better. He finds out slowly about Marinette’s personal life back in Paris and her hobbies which makes Alfred happy, at one point they bake together a few things Marinette loved to make with her parents making him happy to see her smile… meanwhile.

Bruce finds out from Gina what Marinette went through “She was bullied on her first day back?” he asked making Gina nod “She mourned the death of her parents for two weeks since she also needed to take care of a few things since I wasn’t there to do them… and when she came back, she was made fun of for becoming an orphan” she explained which angered Bruce greatly.

He was now determined to help Marinette “What about her teachers?” he asked making Gina sighed “Her main teacher ignored it. She let them bully her during her class and reprimanded Marinette for causing this to happen” she explained making Bruce get pissed.

He couldn’t believe a woman like her was hired as a teacher in the first place… he was determined to resolve all of this for Marinette no matter what. Damian came home from school to the smell of baked goods coming from the kitchen with the sounds of giggling. He peeked into the kitchen to see an angel with Alfred baking in the kitchen together. He became very interested in her and hoped to get to know her soon enough.

It barely took an hour after everyone returned for everyone to know who Marinette was and what happened to her in Paris… none of them were happy at all with what she was put through and were determined to make everyone pay. In a matter of days, the Wayne’s uncovered what was happening in Paris and decided to help Ladybug to defeat Hawkmoth, they did research on the akuma’s and who works with Hawkmoth and slowly formed a plan to help Ladybug defeat him once and for all… and take down the ones who hurt Marinette while they were at it while in Paris.

Damian protected Mari at school since she was put in his class and made sure she was safe at all times no matter what anyone tried… good or bad he planned to keep her happy and safe since he didn’t want her to be bullied once more… and if that meant secretly do a background check on anyone who looked interested in becoming close to Marinette… then so be it.

Bruce helped set Marinette up with what she needed while everyone chipped to bond with Mari in some type of way. Alfred was happy to see his granddaughter smiling and being at peace now from her pain in Paris. Soon though the Wayne’s went to Paris to take down Marinette’s old high school… while taking down Hawkmoth with Ladybug.

Within a few days, Hawkmoth was revealed as Gabriel and he was arrested, Lila was uncovered and exposed for her lies and was labelled a terrorist aid since she helped Hawkmoth akumatized a few people, Adrien was arrested since it was discovered he had caused the death of Marinette’s parents on purpose as he wanted to punish her for fighting against Lila, the school was shut down, Damocles and Bustier were arrested and the students who bullied Marinette paid the price by being taken to court and each getting a criminal record for their actions towards Marinette.

While this was all happening, Damian and Alfred helped Marinette where they could to help her heal from everything. She started dating Damian and laughed as she heard Alfred give him “the talk” which made Damian sulk for a while. As everything began to settle, Marinette felt happy and free with Hawkmoth gone and all of the miraculous back together.

She felt bad for using the fox miraculous to make an illusion of herself before leaving for Paris to take down Hawkmoth but it had to be done so Alfred and Damian didn’t know she was gone. She planned on telling them all about the miraculous… but not right now since she wanted to relax and rest from everything. Sure, her old classmates did try to contact her to have her help them but she ignored them. They were in the wrong and there was no way she would lie and say that nothing big happened between them.

Years go by and she was engaged to Damian. She was really happy and couldn’t wait to get married to Damian. The day he proposed was Christmas, he gave her his present which was a jewelry box and inside the song that plays at weddings began and her sweet kwami’s came out to present her the message “Will you marry me angel?” and Plagg presented her the ring Damian got her.

She accepted and together they decided on a Christmas themed wedding for them… it simply sounded perfect for them and so that’s what they planned to do. Sadly, her old classmates still try to contact her, Adrien was released and quickly began to harass her to have her date him and Lila to her surprise went to social media talking to her as if they were friends and she was only asking for a small favor… when she was asking for a job, a nice apartment, some connections and a famous boyfriend.

She ignored them all though. Let them suffer with there coal from being bad for so long while she enjoyed herself at long last… she was happy now and wanted it to stay that way… Alfred smiled towards his granddaughter as she hugged Damian as the Wayne’s were together for Christmas.

[kailoraurelius]

Dr Mitchell and Sheila are invited to the family dinner in AIAOY while in SG it took Beca a longer time until Chloe forced her to see him and is still a bit awkward between them. Beca did say her dad left when she's 11 but she wasn't all that sad, I'm just curious does having a huge loving group of relatives and friends lead to the earlier reconciliation? I would like to hear more about your psychological thoughts you put in your stories

Okay, I been excited all day to get off work so I could dive into this ask lol! First off, thank you so much for it, cause I love to nerd out about this stuff. Second, absolutely yes, the huge support system changed how I wrote them in this one! Strap in, I'm about to go off and write a fuckin' essay.

In the movie, it's canon (as far as I know) that Beca is an only child who favors her mother over her father, because she sees him as someone that abandoned them. This is a fundamental characteristic of her character. It's why she's so rude to him in the beginning and, even though she claims she just wants to get to LA and make music, it's very obviously a contributing factor to why she's so against college. Seeing as she later proceeds to stay in school and have an amazing time that she is very proud of, it's easy to assume college was never the actual issue. Sure, she didn't think it was the future she wanted, but she KNEW it was the future her dad wanted for her and she hated that.

It became a core tenet of her character: "You don't walk away from family." She says this to the Bellas in PP3 while she's explaining that she's turning down the very thing she's always said she's wanted: to make music. Why? Because it wouldn't be with them. Because making music is NOT her truest, deepest want. She wants a family. People she loves and trusts to have her back. The thing her father was supposed to be to her. (And I think he is, this is not a reflection of my thoughts on his character, because I love him, but we'll get into that in a bit. This is just what I think Beca feels.)

That's why it's so interesting that she does walk away from the Bellas in the first movie. She does EXACTLY what she hated that her father did. She tried to make it work, it didn't go well, and she dipped. And this, obviously, is why she goes to her father to talk it out. Yes, she's sorta pushed away Jesse at this point and she doesn't have anyone else around to talk to, but I think some part of her also knows her dad will understand. If you watch the deleted/extended scene of that conversation at her dad's house, he tells her, "Look, Bec, the day I left you was the saddest day of my life. I should have... I'm still trying to make it up to you." And THAT is where I took inspo from for AIAOY.

In Stained Glass, their dynamic is incredibly different from the movie. Beca's mother has passed and there's this whole thing about how strained the relationship was with her father. "For her, family time was quiet dinners with her mother in a hospital room and even quieter dinners with her father at home. And when they were together, it was like sitting around a time bomb with the timer covered." So when I wrote Dr. Mitchell and Beca in that piece, I did it with the constant knowledge that they both blame him. She blames him for not emotionally being there for her when she needed him and he blames himself for being too heartbroken to be able to take care of her or her mother the way he wanted to. They both just shut down.

And that anger and guilt and silent hope that the other person would fix things created this huge rift between them, to the point where they both sorta iced each other out because that was easier, less terrifying, than trying to jump the gap. Beca moved away, pushed all of her old life into the back of her mind, even the good parts like Jesse. And her dad eventually moved on, started a new family. In my head, that guilt from before ate at him all the time and made him a better father and husband that time around, because he was desperate to not have a repeat performance.

That's why Beca is so much more prickly in SG. In fact, (slight spoilers for Teach Me Something) when you see more of her back when Stacie first meets her, she's kind of a total bitch lol. She isn't interested in letting people in, she takes care of herself and that's that.

But then Stacie worms her way in by being persistent. And that softens her enough that Chloe is able to get in too. Then Emily. Then the rest of them lol. And, eventually, that softens Beca enough that she lets her dad back in too.

When Beca's getting ready for her wedding and thinking about how she's glad Chloe kinda forced her and Dr. Mitchell back together, there's a moment where she realizes, "She forgot he was kinda funny." They've been so distant from each other for so long and they've purposely shut out all the good things because it hurt too much. So, at that point, they're sort of relearning each other. The new people they've become, the old people they still were. While also trying to reconcile that they both made mistakes in the past. So yeah, it's awkward. But it's just the start for them in that story. A new start.

In AIAOY, (I'll try to be careful of big spoilers lol) it's already past that point. When Chloe first meets Beca in college, it's probably the closest it would have been to their dynamic in SG.

In this one, Beca's mother is alive and she has this huge support system of Stacie's family, her cousins, her other friends later on. So when I was writing them here, I thought a lot about that. In SG (and in the movie, maybe) I feel like Beca didn't believe in permanence. Her mother died, her father faded away, she shoved everything else away and, more importantly, it went. (Jesse was a good friend to her and he respected that she didn't want him around, but that wasn't probably best for her in the long run.)

But in AIAOY, Beca is surrounded by permanence. Yes, her dad left and she was righteously angry at him, but then was able to realize it was his loss. Her mother was still there and still just as wild and loving. The rest of her family was still all around her, unchanged. Stacie and Amy were at her side always.

So, of course, when Chloe came along and was like, "I'm staying in your life forever, thanks", Beca believes her. And lets her in much easier than she did in SG or the movie. Because she's spent her whole life surrounded by people that have softened all those hard edges we see in canon. So this Beca is softer, more prone to silliness and sincerity.

Which is why it made sense to me that she would be on good terms with her father by the time of the story. In my head, there was no fault in the marriage. They just didn't love each other anymore and he didn't really know what he wanted, so they split. Beca blamed him and hated him, of course. She says, "For a long time, I would get so mad if someone said I was anything like him. Even if they just said I looked like him. I didn’t want to be compared to him at all. Because I wanted it to be clear to everyone that I was nothing like him. I’d never leave my kid. You don’t walk away from family, you know?” Different from SG or the movie, Beca doesn't have the option of shutting everything out and growing resentful. She's surrounded by too much that she loves and she's just angry her dad left that behind. Left her behind. Like the great life they had just wasn't enough for him.

So yeah, it's difficult for a long time. And she barely goes to Barden because of it all. But other circumstances--the house, Stacie and Amy going there, the nice studio in town--swayed her. So she kinda had to deal with seeing him more. And, in that time, she started to see he was different. Happier with Sheila. And she was, eventually, able to realize it wasn't that their family wasn't enough for him, it just wasn't right for him. So she forgives him and even gets close to Sheila. And she's emotionally able to do so because she knows her family and friends have her back. The thing her character so dearly needs.

As for Dr. Mitchell (hey, we made it back to him, told you!), he's probably the most canon character in the story lol. He's made mistakes and didn't handle his divorce or keeping in touch with his kid as well as he wanted to, but he loves her very much and wants to do better. And Beca realizing that both in the movie and AIAOY AND SG is what eventually lets them be good again. Closer than they even were before the divorce, because now they understand each other better.

Next chapter, tiny spoiler, you'll get to see that for them. How it isn't awkward like in SG or borderline hostile like the movie. Those things have already been worked through by this point in AIAOY. And I hope it will be enjoyable to read them together in this new way!

Sorry for the literal essay lmfao. I was joking, but then I wasn't xD

[geek-fashionista]

The Origins of the Trainwrecks Universe

Just... bear with me.

In the year 2001, I created a character named The White Maiden. According to legend, she was a sickly young woman who gave her life to protect her home planet from an outside threat. In actuality, she was a star spirit, and the threat was her twin sister, who had become a black hole. The White Maiden sacrificed herself to subdue her twin, leaving her lover, a knight, behind.

The knight's name was Julian Luna. The White Maiden was Whitney.

Two years later in 2003, while I was still living in Hawaii, I created two characters named Ray Kingston and Felicia Moreau. The plotline of their story was basically Horimiya but with class differences (Horimiya did it better). They lived in Waialae-Kahala because Felicia's family had money for days, and I never actually wrote their story down.

We skip ahead another three years to 2006. My now-husband, realizing I was crazy person, created a set of characters to interact with the imaginary people I'd split my psyche into. Whitney's twin sister Desiree was seduced by one of them. Whitney was also seduced by one of them but that's not as important. And the recently created Makoto, who had been turned into a monster by the darkness inside her, was saved by James, the Prince of Darkness.

Typical teenage edgelord shit.

In June 2006, I moved to Washington State at the beginning of summer vacation. Bored and friendless, I revisited some old stories while my characters and my now-husband's characters got busy in the Sean Paul sense of the phrase. Whitney's twin sister Desiree (my literal shadow) gave birth to Jasmine. Luna was accidentally created when I tried to draw her mother with short hair. Whitney adopted Sebastian, then had two more sons before her uterus gave up. Duke came out of his mother's womb with a camera in hand... until I made him an assassin. Makoto became the victim of my attempted Hallmark Christmas movie, where she meets an annoying little boy named Dimitri with a hot single doctor dad. Then she got seduced by my husband's mind, a higher being, and Dimitri became biologically hers and a genius. And then she got back together with James and they had a daughter before Dimitri died and Makoto was so bummed that she jumped James and got preggo with triplets Leo, Victoria, and Twylight in 2009.

Over the next decade, I whittled what was probably 20-something characters down to six: Sebastian, Jasmine, Luna, Duke, Dimitri, and Victoria. While the others disappeared into their own universes or passed into The Slums (my subconscious), this group stayed together, trying out different stories until they found their home. But they have all retained elements of their pasts:

Luna, the otherworldly star spirit, born as her mother died.

Dimitri, half-human half-other, too smart for his human side to handle.

Sebastian, burning with anger against God after being stricken blind.

Jasmine, who inherited her original mother's original sins.

Duke, who hates Dimitri because he has half his heart inside of him.

And Victoria, playing the piano in an empty room on a moonlit night.

Now, if you'd like to hear about all the different lives they've lived, be sure to tune into their individual character development diaries as I write them on Substack... eventually. Bonus material for later seasons. :D

[ladykailitha]

Little Runaway Part 6

Oh my god!! You guys are fantastic everyone!! I just wanted remind people that I have little practical experience with the show outside of meta and fanfics and gifs. As fully explained here. But I love everyone’s response to this story. It’s one of the earliest stories I wrote before I got further involved in fandom. So if you want to DM if you think something is off that’s fine, I’d love to chat! Also I have hit the tag limit, so if you want to see more, follow away!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Steve was in Eddie’s room reading the book he borrowed when there was a knock on the door of the trailer. He frowned. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to open the door when Eddie or Wayne weren’t home.

“Steve Harrington if you don’t open this door I swear to god I will let out the air on your tires!” Max yelled.

Steve went rushing to the door and threw it open. “Jesus Christ! Don’t yell my name.”

He dragged her inside and pushed her the direction of the couch.

“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Max asked, sitting down. “You go missing for two weeks and come to find out you’ve been hiding out here. Everyone is worried about you!”

Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Came out to my dad as liking boys, he beat the shit out of me and if he finds me, he’ll probably kill me. And I don’t mean in the nice parent way either.”

Max nodded. She knew better than almost anyone else what that was like. “So why here?”

“You think my dad would think to look here?” Steve scoffed.

She cocked her head. “Yeah, all right.”

“You really can’t tell anyone I’m here,” Steve pleaded. “Not even Will or Mike or any of them. It’s bad enough Dustin knows.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“Because my dad isn’t above beating up children to get them to tell him what he wants to hear.”

Max took that in for a moment. “Okay. Fine.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Fine. I get it. You know I do. Wait, is that why Dustin stopped by in the middle of the night last week? Was that about you?” Steve nodded. She pursed her lips. “Okay, but you may want to move your car.”

“Shit,” he cursed. “Yeah. If you found it, my dad might, too.” He ran his fingers over his face. And then he got an idea.

“I know that face,” Max said. “That’s your ‘I have a dumb plan’ face.”

He looked over at her sidelong. “You could move it for me.”

She thought about it for a moment. “You’d trust me with your car?”

“You’re a better driver than most people with licenses,” Steve told her. “I learned that first hand.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Just then Eddie came home and stopped short, looking at the unruly teenager on his sofa.

“Red,” he greeted coldly.

“She’s cool,” Steve told him.

“You two know each other?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She saved my life once,” Steve said, crossing his arms.

“Hell yeah, I did,” Max replied with a grin.

“She is also the only one of the nuggets that knows to keep her mouth shut,” Steve said.

Her grin got bigger.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie said, “your dad showed up to the session today.”

And suddenly all the light teasing joy between Max and Steve exited the trailer is a roaring gush.

“Holy fuck!” Steve said. “Is everyone okay? No one got hurt, did they?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Eddie said with a reassuring smile. “I sent him packing with his tail between his legs.”

Steve’s eyes went wide and a happy, almost delirious smile spread across his face. “You did?”

Eddie shrugged, shoving his thumbs into his back pockets. “I gave him a Munson tirade special. He left in a hurry after that.”

“Huh.” Steve bit back the next words that would have tumbled from his lips if Max hadn’t been there. I could kiss you! He blushed and scratched his cheek in embarrassment.

“I should get going,” Max said. “Take care of yourself, Steve. Or at least let someone else do it for if you can’t.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed.

Steve stopped her at the door. “Hey, take care of it for me.” And tossed her his car keys. She caught them and then saluted. With a smile on her face she walked out the trailer, a skip in her step.

“She saved your life?” Eddie asked, deeply concerned.

“I got a really bad concussion, like out for a long time bad,” Steve said. “She was the one that was able to drive me to get help.” He gulped and looked down at his feet. “I think she learned because of her mom.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. “Yeah, yeah. I can see that.”  

He took a deep breath and let it out. “Another unfortunate side effect of tonight: everyone at Hellfire knows your dad beat you and not just two weeks ago.”

Steve dropped his between shoulders and let out a shuddering breath. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know that. And now everyone did. “I don’t want their pity.” The words came out as a hiss.

Eddie came up to him and put his hands on Steve’s biceps, rubbing his arms up and down. “I’m afraid it was Dustin that let that out of the bag. He was just so terrified that he might have been the cause of your dad beating you that I said that it wasn’t his fault, that your dad was a grade bastard and had been for a while.”

Steve pinched his nose and nodded. “It not your fault or his. If it goes to trial what he did to me, everyone was going to find out anyway.”

Eddie nodded.

“I think I would die if anyone started being nice to me because they knew what he did to me,” Steve whispered. “I don’t want to be treated differently because I abused.”

“What’s wrong with a little sympathy?” Eddie asked.

“I acted the way I did, not because my dad is an asshole, but because I was.”

Eddie sighed. “Look, I’m going to say this only once and if you tell anyone else, I will tell everyone that you drool when you sleep, do you hear me?”

Steve nodded again.

“Right, you were never a bully, Steve,” Eddie continued.

“But I–” Steve said.

“No, Steve,” Eddie said. “You were a kid trying to fit in with the wrong crowd. You never pushed anyone down, you never called people names in the hallway. Did you stand aside and let Tommy do that shit? Sure. But, dude. That was never you.”

“How-how do you know?”

“Because fundamentals don’t change, Steve,” Eddie said earnestly. “If a good person does bad things it eats them up inside. They will try to fix it if they can, but often times they feel like nothing they could do would be enough. But bad people? They don’t give a shit who they hurt. Because seeing someone else get hurt, that makes them feel good.” He leaned down so he could see Steve’s face. “Which one are you?”

Steve looked up into those beautiful brown eyes and took a deep breath that rattled in his chest. “I’m a good person?”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Eddie said, straightening up. He pulled him in for a hug and held him close. And if he felt his shirt getting wet, he certainly wasn’t going to tell.

*

On Monday he ran into Robin Buckley who looked like she was going to murder someone, most likely him.

“Oi!” she said calling him over. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he tried to back away but she was faster.

“Hey!” she said grabbing him. “What the hell? I was told you know where Steve is and you will tell me what I need to know.”

“Jesus H Christ!” he hissed and tugged her toward the van and threw her in the back. He got in behind her and slammed the door. “Are you trying to get Steve killed?”

“What?” she asked, blinking at him rapidly.

“Steve’s dad is trying to find him and here you are yelling out on the street that I know where he is?” Eddie snarled. “Fucking hell.”

She got quiet. “I thought that was just a rumor. There’s also a rumor that you kidnapped him and are holding him for ransom.”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “Why the fuck is it always me?”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“All right who told?” Eddie snarled. “Because if there is going to be a murder in this town it’s going to be me against whoever told that I knew where Steve is.”

“I don’t know, but pretty much the whole town knows now,” Robin murmured.

“Shit I don’t know where to go,” Eddie said, feeling his panic rising. “I need you to get to Dustin. Let him know that Steve’s dad knows about me and to warn Steve.” He pressed his hand to mouth, trying to fight down the bile that coated his throat.

His eyes caught a bag of weed and he got an idea. He licked his lips. “If you see my uncle Wayne, tell him I’m sorry.” He opened the door and pushed her out.

Before she could protest he slammed the door and hopped into the driver’s seat.

Fuck.

Part 7 Epilogue

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[morningsharksworld]

I don't know if you write platonic fanfictions or not, but I had an idea about one! I just felt like sharing it with you, in case it gave you any inspiration or brain worms for a future story!

A story of a new member who'd join the Phreaks who's older than Hazard, maybe in their 40s, that'd help them out during one of their heists then leave, but they keep meeting in the same place, and this lone wolf vigilante having no gang decides "sure I could roll with you guys, you seem like you could use my help." Then after they join, all the combat experience and abilities they have are super useful, their personality fits in pretty well, they're not judgmental, and they act like almost a chill Mom/Dad figure that everyone appreciates. I understand the Phreaks are all a found family, but I see it as a found family of brothers and sisters. This new member would be like the 'mother/father' figure of theirs. They go through some sort of dangerous gang fight, one that nearly could have got Hazard killed, and this parental gang member does something that saves him. And after Hazard goes "thank you" the member goes "no problem son," and it sticks to Hazard for the rest of the event until they get home.

Imagine that when they get home Hazard brings it up, and the member admits that they had a son who was only 14 years old when they passed away... due to this horrible system. The healthcare system, the education system, the judicial system. They hated all of it after what it all did to their son... and then they'd confess that Hazard's confidence and dreams and perseverance reminded them so much of their late son that if they lived only 10 more years, they'd probably be just like him.

Imagine that this person eventually 'adopts' Hazard as a son in this gang, and their bond goes deeper than blood. And for the first time in his life Hazard has a father figure that actually gives a shit about him, listen to his feelings and ideas, and even show up to is wedding with Susie (or enter S/O here)

Deeper Than Blood

A/N: AAHHH I had to take a moment to appreciate this because this is extremely wholesome, I wish blizzard made these type of dynamics with some of the characters in game. It took longer than expected because I wanted to make it as perfect as possible and to convey the perfect portrayal for it. I hope you like it 👹✨. Also fun fact every time that I wrote the character in question dialogue, for some reason I kept reading it in the voice of Dracula from castlevania, but when he…you know ALMOST kills Alucard and that kind of made me tear up a bit.

Summary: The phreaks along Hazard found someone to call home.

The job had gone sideways before it even began. Hazard crouched behind a rusted metal container, his heart pounding as gunfire rattled through the abandoned factory. The Phreaks were pinned down, outnumbered and outgunned. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

A shadow passed overhead, swift and deliberate. Hazard barely caught the blur of movement before he saw one of their attackers collapse, then another. It wasn’t one of the Phreaks—this figure moved with precision, like they’d done this a thousand times before.

In the chaos, Hazard felt a hand grip his arm and yank him behind better cover. “Keep your head down, kid” the voice said, calm but firm. They didn’t stay long, vanishing into the smoke as quickly as they appeared.

When the dust settled and the Phreaks regrouped, Hazard couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger who’d saved him.

=====

The next week, Hazard found himself wandering back to the same district. He told himself it was coincidence, but deep down, he was looking for them. It didn’t take long. The stranger was leaning against a food stand, chewing on a skewer, their weathered face unreadable.

“You’re a persistent one aren’t you…” they said without looking up.

Hazard froze, unsure how to respond. “Ah, uh… wanted tae say thank’s, for last time.”

They shrugged. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Ah don’t even ken who ye are, but really thank ye.” Hazard said, more curious than accusatory.

The stranger finally looked at him, their gaze steady. “Just someone who doesn’t like seeing people getting themselves killed.” The encounters became more frequent after that. Hazard started noticing them watching the Phreaks from a distance, their presence quiet but unmistakable. During another skirmish, they stepped in again, their skills turning the tide in the Phreaks’ favor.

Afterward, Hazard confronted them. “Why dae ye keep helpin’ us?”

The stranger raised an eyebrow. “Because you need it.” They glanced at the group of young, scrappy misfits. “You’ve got heart, but no direction. You could use someone who’s been around the block.”

The Phreaks were hesitant at first, but their actions spoke louder than words. Slowly, they became part of the crew—not just as a fighter, but as a grounding presence.

They were different from the others. Where the Phreaks were loud and brash, they were quiet and deliberate. They didn’t judge, didn’t lecture. Instead, they listened, offering advice when it was asked for and stepping back when it wasn’t.

For Hazard, they quickly became someone he trusted. Someone who didn’t dismiss his ideas or mock his dreams.

=====

It wasn’t until a particularly brutal confrontation with a rival gang that Hazard truly understood what they meant to him.

The Phreaks had been ambushed, their plan falling apart under the weight of sheer numbers. Hazard saw an opening and took it, charging forward to create a distraction. But he underestimated the enemy. A grenade landed near him, and he froze, realizing he didn’t have time to get away.

Before he could react, the stranger was there, shoving him aside and taking the brunt of the blast on their reinforced armor.

Hazard scrambled to their side as they pushed themselves up, wincing. "Ye awright?" he asked, his voice shaky.

“Fine” they grunted, brushing off debris.

“Thank ye mate” Hazard said softly, the weight of what just happened sinking in.

They gave him a faint smile. “No problem, son.”

The word lingered in Hazard’s mind long after the fight was over. They had called him kid before sure, but this was something new.

Later that night, back at the hideout, Hazard found them sitting alone in their room, quietly cleaning their gear. He hesitated before approaching. "Can ah ask ye somethin’?"

They looked up, their expression unreadable. “Sure.”

"Why’d ye call me ‘son’?"

For the first time, their composure seemed to falter. They set down their gear and took a deep breath. “Because you remind me of mine.”

Hazard blinked, caught off guard.

They continued, their voice heavy with emotion. “He died when he was fourteen. This city… it chews people up and spits them out. The healthcare system, the schools, the courts—they all failed him. Failed us. I hated it all after that. Walked away from everything.”

They paused, their hands trembling slightly. “When I see you fighting for something better, refusing to give up… I see what he could’ve been. What he should’ve been.”

Hazard didn’t know what to say. He sat down beside them, the silence stretching between them until he finally spoke hurriedly. "Ah'm sorry—Ah didnae mean tae pry intae it, it just caught me off guard and Ah—"

“Don’t be Son” they interrupt him while chuckling softly. “You’ve giving me a chance to make things right. To protect someone again. And if you’ll let me… I’d like to be the family you didn’t get.”

Hazard felt a lump in his throat but managed to nod. “Aye. Ah’d like that too, actually. Everyone would.”

From that moment on, their bond deepened. They weren’t just another member of the Phreaks—they were the calm in the storm, the steady presence that held the group together.

And to Hazard, they became more than a mentor, more than a protector. They were family.

In a world that had taken so much from both of them, they found something neither had expected: hope.

EXTRA:

The Phreaks were winding down after a job when the parental figure noticed Hazard, flushed, typing away on his comm-link.

"What’s this?" they teased, walking over. "Your head has been all in the clouds these past few days. Who’s on your mind, my boy?"

Hazard groaned, trying to his subtitle glances at her. "Nothin’… just Susie."

The tall figure could only grin. "Oh? You and Susie seem to be gettin’ real cozy with each other." They leaned in. "Tell me, are you asking her to marry you anytime soon? You do know that I’m not getting any younger”

Hazard’s eyes widened. "Whit?! Nae way! It’s no like that!"

"Oh, but I bet it could be." They chuckled. "I’d love to see it. You in your best suit, Susie by your side. Beautiful."

"Stop it!" Hazard said, trying to hide his face.

They could only ruffled his hair, still grinning. "Don’t worry, Son. I’m just havin’ some fun. But when you do, I’ll be there. Front row."

Hazard muttered under his breath "You’re impossible."

"And I’ll be proud to see it. Just don’t wait too long, eh?"

Hazard just nodded, half-flustered, half-grateful for the teasing that felt more like family than anything else.

[ciginatree]

Olive Bough

Grim reaper/death!Chris Motionless x unnamed, gender neutral character

Content Warnings: language, abuse, domestic violence, death, angst, alcoholism

Word Count: 2.4k

Author's Note: PLEASE READ THIS: I really debated writing this story at all, let alone posting it. It's based heavily on a poem I wrote in college, which is one of my favorite pieces of media I've written. The way death (Chris) is portrayed in this is also heavily inspired by The Book Thief. This is a lot darker than any other fic I've written so far, but I really felt like I should write it. I don't even feel like I did the idea justice, but who knows. Y'all are seeing a piece of my soul with this one. <3

This story is a complete work of fiction portraying the likeness of a real person or persons in a fictional situation.

The day had an air of finality to it. The kind of day where you can’t really picture another one coming, but you can’t place why. A solemnity, I suppose. I had just clocked off from work, waiting for the bus. The sun was low in the sky, melting off the mountain line and onto my skin so it could rest. My eyes felt hollow, the skin protecting them was thin and weak much like my bones. A sharp hiss of air alerted me to the bus I hadn’t seen coming. I waited for the doors to screech open before climbing the stairs, fishing my bus pass out of my pocket as I did so. I trudge to the middle of the bus, sliding into the musty seat and leaning my head back with a heavy sigh. I look to my left and see a girl with a backpack at her feet, earbuds wedged in her ears, bobbing her head to an unknown melody. A college student. I should have a backpack at my feet, I should be running myself into the ground with theses and slideshows. I check my phone, opening my banking app to check the balance. My heart aches. Soon. I turn my head to the dusty window, everything blurring past like a zoetrope. 

Eventually, it slows and the familiar greenery of the downtown park comes into view. I stand, bracing myself on the chair in front of me as the bus jolts to a stop. I trod down the steps and onto the sidewalk, the sun barely draping over the rocky cliffs. I proceed down the crumbling path back to home. The evening breeze tangles itself in the overgrown bushes and I plug the hole in my jacket pocket with my fist before it can dance its way in. The trailer park peeks around the corner and I enter through the fence, trudging along the gravel until I travel the rotting steps of the stained white trailer home. The paint is flaking and the stair railing is armed with exposed nails. I shove my key in the lock, opening the door with a sighing creak before clicking it closed behind me. I kick my shoes off next to the mud caked boots by the door. He’s home. I take three steps before the violent sound of a door being thrown into a wall halts me. A quick current of adrenaline stabs through me and my heart is pitched into a panic, but I don’t move. Heavy footsteps thunder around the corner as a sweaty, precarious figure stumbles into the main room. 

His pace quickens and I take a short step back before being thrown into the wall next to the door. I ricochet off the surface, but a calloused forearm pins me back to it by my chest. He leans in and the smell of pungent rot and body odor permeates around him, invading my nose. As he snarls out his words, his beer belly pushes into my abdomen. 

“Where’s my fucking money?” His eyes are bloodshot, watery, and wild. I turn my head so my cheek is pressed against the wall and my eyes turn down, staring at the musty carpet. 

“I don’t know,” I mumble. A curled fist strikes a myriad of colors into the side of my head and I yelp.

“Speak the fuck up.”

“Dad, I don’t know!” The last syllable of my reply trembles as I’m shoved harder into the wall and the wall trembles with me. 

“There’s five dollars missing from that jar over there on the counter. Do you wanna tell me where it went or do you wanna keep getting smacked around like a pussy?” 

I choke on a sob. “I didn’t have enough cash for lunch I was gonna pay you back with my tips the second I got home I swear, you always-!” My rambling is cut off by a blow to my stomach and I gasp for air. His hand crushes my wrist between us and I cry out as he blows more of his intoxicated breath between his fat, stubbled lips.

“I’m fucking tired of you takin’ my shit.Takin’ my money, takin’ my space. I’ve fucking had it!” He bellows, accentuating his last sentence by hurling me around his body and back into the trailer. I stumble, feet scraping the floor and my heart plummets as I fall. I register what’s about to happen right as my head smacks the iron rim of the coffee table, then follows my body to the floor with a wet thump. 

I feel numb. Crimson tattoos my vision and I take a rattling breath. Dark gray static overtakes the blood pooling beneath my eye and narrows until all I can see is the coffee table leg in the foreground of a shit brown couch. I hear a deafening nothing in my ears as the static overtakes all of me. 

* * *

I feel cold, rigid. Like waking up on the hard floor of a tent after a chilly night of camping. I’m on my side, and it’s dark. Well, it’s more of an emptiness; like being surrounded by thick clearness. A fog, I suppose, and it has stained my vision.  My head is dazed and I start to tremble. I expect to feel my heart rate increase, but there’s nothing there. No warmth, no beating. I try to take a breath, but my lungs have vanished. My airway is empty; filled to the brim with a lead-like weight, I am permanently holding my breath. I can’t move, save for my eyes and I flick them around desperately to find anything to anchor myself to.

And there. In the distance. There’s a glow, a shadow surrounded by a fuzzy, warm yellow tinted light. It’s out of focus, but growing bigger, getting closer. A man. He comes into focus and everything about him counters the aura he portrays. His hair is long and black, matching the shade of his lipstick and color on his eyes. He has piercings decorating his lips and tattoos painting every inch of his skin. He crouches down beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I can see his eyes now. They’re kind. A soft mossy brown that seems to luminate in the darkness shrouding me. 

“Shh, it’s ok now. I’ve got you,” he whispers as his hand trails along my arm. His touch leaves a soothing warmth that spreads throughout me. It drips into me and I close my eyes. It fills the emptiness where my heart and bones should have been, supporting me. I feel him gather me in his arms, lifting me into a sitting position. In his embrace, the fog starts to dissipate leaving only the glow of his candle like warmth. I open my eyes and look up at him.

“Are you Satan?” 

He chuckles. “No, I’m not Satan.”

I take in his appearance with an even more bewildered expression. “Are you God?”

“No, no, I’m not God either.”

“So, who…?”

He takes a breath, sitting down in a cross legged position in front of me. “Think of me like an olive bough. Your olive bough, a sign that there’s hope after your previous life.” 

Fear spreads suddenly throughout me. “So I’m dead?” 

The man gives a sympathetic nod that makes my chest heave. I suppose I had known, but the confirmation sealed my suspicions. I knot my fingers in my hair, shaking. “No, no, no I was so close. I was so close. I-” I sob as a tear blooms in my eye, sliding down my cheek like rain. Through my tears the man seems to flicker like an aurora. He watches me with sad eyes before reaching out to brush away the tears with a feather light touch.  

“I know,” is all he says. It’s simple, just two words. And yet, there is so much unsaid that eases my mind. I sniff wetly and exhale through my mouth. He brings me back into his embrace, holding me to him. The black sweater that adorns his body is comfortable against my cheek and I cling to it, inhaling staccato breaths followed by long exhales. Somehow, I feel at peace here with this strange man, my Olive Bough. I cling to him like a leaf clinging to a branch in a storm, afraid that if I let go the fog will come back to consume me. 

“Is there any way you can send me back?” I sob. 

“Would you want to go back?” I think back to the musty trailer housing my drunken father. To dreading the walk home from work everyday, trembling in my bed as I hear my father stumbling around, and to never quite having enough money to sustain myself. 

I shake my head against his chest, crumpling in defeat. He tightens his grip around me, his cheek pressing against the top of my head. More of his warmth seeps through the crown of my head and into my mind creating a pleasant fuzzy sensation. The tears that haven’t already been absorbed into his sweater start to dry. I hiccup softly and bring a hand to dab at my puffy eyes and he pulls away slightly to look at me.

“Why don’t you tell me a happy memory you have?” He suggests as he tucks away a wet, stray piece of hair stuck to my cheek. 

“I don’t really have that many,” I sniff.

“There’s got to be something. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate, just something simple that makes you happy.” I look down at his tattooed hands, thinking hard. I sniff and chuckle under my breath before answering.

“One time when I was a kid, before everything went to shit, we visited the Oregon coast. I couldn’t have been older than six, so I only remember bits of it. We rented a trailer and stayed right on the beach. I mean, it wasn’t much of a tourist type beach. There wasn’t any sand, just rocks, and it was really cold. But it was nice. It was really quiet and I was able to run right up to the shoreline to chase the seagulls and throw rocks into the waves,” I smile and laugh at the memory, another tear slipping down my face. He laughs softly, offering his kind smile as he listens. “We went and saw the cliffs too. It was really green and there were some jellyfish that washed up on the rocks. I’d never seen a jellyfish before then, it was really cool.” My words settle and we sit in momentary silence before I ask the dreadful question.

  “So, do I get to go to heaven?” I’m scared of the answer, gripping the hem of my shirt without looking at him. He takes a breath and pulls away a little more, holding me at arms length. 

“I’m sorry, but… it doesn’t really work like that.” I look at him warily, my eyes filling with dread and he hurries to explain. “It’s not the kind of heaven you’re thinking of is what I mean. It’s not really a place. It’s more of… a feeling.”

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head, trying to comprehend what he means. The man thinks for a moment before answering.

“You know when you’re watching a sunrise and that first warm beam of light hits your face? Or when you finally drift off to sleep after crying for hours? It feels like that.”

I think of those moments, trying to imagine it. “Does it feel like you holding me like you were?”

He chuckles, rubbing my arm. “Yeah, I suppose it could feel like that too,” he says softly. 

“I don’t really have any family or friends, who will I see there?” His expression turns solemn and compassionate again.

“You won’t see anyone. You won’t see anything really. Essentially, you melt into a feeling.” My eyebrows furrow and my chest flutters with anxiety.

“Well, will I ever see you again? No one’s ever been this gentle with me,” my eyes start to waver and I blink quickly to dissipate the tears. “I don’t want to be alone again, I really like being here with you. It feels so nice, I’ve never felt that before I-” he shushes me gently, taking both of my hands in his.

“I’ve always been with you and I’ll always be with you. I’m the only thing that’s ever been certain in your life, the only thing you could ever hope for that will, without a doubt, come true. I’ve been there all those times your father has wandered home drunk and every time you’ve held a blade right on the verge of giving up. I’ve been there, waiting to catch you. Every time. I’ve been waiting to hold you like this and let you know that everything is ok. That I’ve got you.” He smooths his thumb in circles over the back of my hand, gazing at me with more empathy and kindness than I could muster in a lifetime. “It’s going to be ok, I promise,” he whispers, barely audible. I nod, blowing out a breath.

“Do you have a name?” I ask. I want to have a name I can think of that will conjure up his image in my mind. A tangible word to pin his being to.

“Not exactly.”

“Can I give you one?”

“You might get too attached to me if you give me a name.”

“I already am, besides you said you’d always be with me.” His mouth twitches up.

“Then if you’d really like to, go ahead.” I think for a bit, analyzing him.

“You look like a Chris.” His smile widens and he lets out a breathy laugh. 

“Chris it is then. I like it,” he says, squeezing my hands and falling silent for a moment. “Are you ready?” he asks gingerly. I shake my head, holding tighter to his hands. “I know.” He pulls me back into his embrace. I cling to him again as I bury my face into his neck and try to memorize the feel of him holding me. 

“I don’t wanna leave,” my voice shakes. Chris keeps one arm tight around my back, trailing the other up to tenderly pet my hair. 

“Don’t think of it as leaving, think of it as moving forward. Things will only get better, I promise,” he whispers into my ear. His affection seems to surround me, drawing me impossibly closer to him. The sunset of his aura absorbs my senses and everything else starts to fade away. I don’t feel my limbs anymore, there’s no stiffness, no pain. I can’t see the fog anymore, only warmth. With no heartbeat to keep track of time, I sit in the feeling and drift away.

Tags: @abiomens @rumoured-whispers

[mybadlywrittenstories]

Two Different Worlds (Jasper Hale Fanfic)

A/N: Hey guys it has been FOREVER since I wrote fanfic and I completely forgot my old Tumblr stories, but I am back at it fellas, please feel free to give any feedback just please be respectful. Also I prefer writing using my OCs instead of using y/n stuff)

Word Count: 2,022

The gentle drumming of raindrops melodically dropping onto the windshield lulled me into a peaceful half-sleep in the back of my father's police cruiser. I was vaguely aware of the light conversation between my father Charlie and my younger sister Bella.

The awkwardness between those two was palpable in the air, for two people who hardly got along they truly were unbelievably alike. I let their uncomfortable discussion pass me by and focused on the other issues that were running rampant around my mind. The first was the fact that I was halfway through my senior year, and now I had to transfer to a new school. Well, I didn't have to per se, but considering I was still freshly 18 and the only job I held back in Arizona was a retail warehouse job that paid 7.15 an hour-- and I still had to buy my own car and pay for my own college-- I wasn't exactly in a situation to move out on my own back in my sunny home of Pheonix Arizona.

Not that I hated Forks, it was definitely a quaint little town that held a certain charm to it. Truthfully, I don't quite understand my mother Renee's and Bella's pure hatred for this place was, but to each, there own I suppose. I was just disappointed to leave Arizona, so close to graduation, my two friends Liv and Abbi, and my now ex-boyfriend Mark, had to stay back in Arizona.

A throb of pain ripped through my chest and tangled itself around my heart when I thought about Mark, more guilt than grief. We had only been dating casually-- more so for the fun of it than due to any real feelings we had shared-- or so I thought. When I had ended things with him a week before my departure, He revealed he harbored much stronger feelings than I knew. Our breakup was still amicable however, in the end, he agreed long distance was not meant for us-- well more so, me.

I had also promised to call him, Liv, and Abbi, as much as possible and Skype at least twice a week. The guilt-ridden thorns pressing into my heart tightened a bit as I remembered his hopeful expression when I left, Liv later informed me that he was harboring hope that he'd be able to convince me to try long distance with him once I was settled in. It wasn't out of the question I supposed, but I never saw our little 4-month fling lasting longer than the end of senior year-- but who knows where life will take me--

"Cali"

I hope I can at least make some new friends here, even if they only last a short time.

"Cali wake up, Sweetie."

Scratch that-- I hope my sister can make some friends. She's always alone. We lived in Arizona for years and she never made any real friends, that's not healthy. I hope--

"Calliope Swan!"

My father urged, shaking my shoulder gently. My eyes snapped open, my body jerking forward as I took in my surroundings. My father had parked his beat-up cruiser in the driveway of my second home. A sense of nostalgia washed over me unexpectedly, I had very few memories of my time living here but some microscopic part of my brain still recognized this home as my childhood home; I did spend the first 2 years of my life calling this two-story rundown house as my home.

"Sorry," I sighed groggily, "I didn't realize I had fallen asleep."

"It's alright." My dad smiled, his endearing awkward smile, "I already brought in your bags, so why don't you go make yourself at home."

"Aye Aye Captian." I joked, mock-saluting him before I climbed out of the back seat, grabbing my over-stuffed backpack and messenger bag. Charlie showed me up to my room-- completely unnecessary considering I've spent two weeks of my summers and all of my spring breaks here for the past 16 years-- and I had spent the first 2 years of my life living here.

My room was just as I had left it last summer, with the same sage-green walls and dark oak floors. My stormy grey curtains were slid open, the sun illuminating the room to the best of its abilities despite the gloomy weather outside. My full-sized mattress draped in a deep blue cover and covered with small stuffed animals I had collected over the years was shoved into the far left corner in front of one of the two windows. At the foot of my bed was my old wooden storage chest, the small metal latch holding down the lid was the only thing holding back the absurd amount of clutter I knew it contained-- all those distant memories.

The rest of my room was pretty simple but cluttered. A bedside table was tucked next to my bed, and a llama-shaped lamp sat on it with photos and books stacked upon it. On the opposing side of the room was my comfortable but old faded emerald green plush chair, and a matching ottoman. My dresser was overflowing with clothing and I cringed at the idea of having to go through all of them to make space for the new clothing I had brought. The mirror attached to the dresser has polaroids of me and all my friends, from both Forks and Arizona. Directly next to the door was my hooded desk, again more random items, and my ancient computer decorated it. In the final corner was my sauder wooden shelves, stocked full of all my worn-out second-hand books.

I breathed in the sweet-- slightly dewy scent of my room and let out a relaxed sigh. This won't be so bad, this is just as much of my home as Arizona was.

Taking note of my plethora of bags stacked in the corner next to the bookshelves I decided I should probably thank Dad for taking them upstairs for me, There really was a lot of them. However, when I turned around I saw my dad's back as he made his way down the hallways toward Bella's room

Oh well, I'll tell him later.

The rest of the day passed by swiftly and without much incident, other than a very swift visit from the Black family where Charlie had very graciously bought my younger sister her first car. Then, very sheepishly informed me that he'd go 50-50 with me on a used car-- that definitely stung a bit but I could understand. Bella was not the fondest of our dad and it was an obvious way of trying to get her to warm up to living in Forks, and to his credit, it did work. She was practically bouncing with excitement when she explored her new car, little Jacob Black following her around like a puppy while she did.

Jacob Black was adorable and sweet, he'd make a good friend for Bella. She would just have to open up to him, he's a few years younger so she used to gravitate toward his older sisters Rachel and Rebecca although they've both moved away from Washington. Last I heard Rachel was away at college and Rebecca was married to a Samoan Surfer. So Bella would have to make new friends, and the twin's nerdy little brother looked like he would do; he certainly seemed eager enough to befriend her.

Other than that though, the day was mainly uneventful. Charlie ordered some celebratory pizza and wings from a local joint, I made some idle chit-chat with Charlie as we ate, but Bella mainly stayed quiet; Stewing in her self-pity a little more than I would've liked.

I helped Charlie pack up the leftovers for his lunch at work tomorrow, making a suggestive comment that perhaps he should consider eating a more healthy lunch, which was quickly shot down by him.

"I'm as healthy as a horse, Cali. I wouldn't be sheriff if I weren't."

"Okay, Okay, Whatever you say Pops. Just don't want to have to rush you to the ER one day due to a heart attack. I get enough ER time because of Bella."

This elicited a small chuckle from him, "That girl sure is a magnet for trouble isn't she?"

"I don't know where she got the clutz gene from, but I think we single-handedly kept the Pheonix ER in business. It was just a month ago we had to take her in 'cause she burned the crap out of her arm on a tea kettle." I laughed, remembering the look of horror in her eyes when the doctor had to inform her that she needed to keep her arm bandaged up for the next week-- and in that AZ heat that would get rather sweaty and uncomfortable quick.

When I noticed Charlie had gone silent while washing up a few dishes, I looked over at him. His face was pinched up in deep thought and from what I could tell concern. "Hey, you good dad?"

"Huh?" He looked over to me and met my gaze, looking a tad embarrassed he had been caught zoning out, he dried off the last dish in his hand and looked over to me seriously, "Can I ask you a serious question, Cali?" He asked, taking on the voice of a worried father.

"Ya, go ahead."

"Do you think..." He paused and thought for a moment, sorting out whatever thoughts were running around his mind. "I know, me and you are very different people. Everyone always says me and Bella are a lot alike but... I know you. I know you're gonna be okay here even if it wasn't necessarily what you wanted."

I opened my mouth to object, I didn't not want to move to Forks. I just was hesitant due to almost being ready to go off to college. He continued on before I had the chance to interrupt though.

"But Bella, she's so quiet, and I can tell she doesn't want to be here. I hate seeing her so upset... I know I'm not the most fun person to be around and I'm going to try and change that but do you think you could look after her? Let me know how I'm doing... If she is happy? Make sure she's doing okay at school and stuff."

"Of course, Dad. I'll keep an eye out for her." I smiled cautiously. This was the first time in a long time I had seen him this worried; the last time was when I came out to visit one year, and it was the first year Bella had decided not to come to Forks to see him. He talked to me back then, asking if Bella was okay and if he had done something wrong. My heart throbbed when I imagined what it must be like for him, loving a daughter so much and feeling so hopeless; as if nothing he would ever do would be the right thing to do.

"Thank you." He said with a timid smile, we both continued to clean up the kitchen in relative silence. I suspected he was doing a bit more cleaning than he would typically do on account of me and Bella being here-- although Bella had already excused herself up to her room.

Once the Kitchen was practically spotless, I took it as my turn to excuse myself into my bedroom. I finished what I could by unpacking my room, opting to leave all my bathroom supplies in a small basket on my dresser, instead of taking up the limited bathroom space. My new books were put away on my shelf, my make-up on the desk next to my small popup mirror. My shoes were lined up on the wall beside my door. The only thing left to do was go through my clothes and that was a challenge to tackle another day.

As I lay in my bed, listening to the gentle sounds of rain hitting the rooftop, I tried to envision what this new chapter in my life would hold for me; however brief it may be.

[zombii-writess]

perfect pair

| OC M! Best Friend x Fem! Chubby! Reader |

omg not a yandere fic this time 😱????

anyways guess who’s back from the dead???? summer is here and i’ll start writing pretty soon bc i was so busy and no, i haven’t forgotten about that ren smut. i was lacking motivation to finish it BUT it will be coming soon.

this fic is all to my chubby readers!! but it could be read by anyone really.

also i wrote this from my phone so excuse any errors,,,

tags: fluff, best friends to lovers

▸You’ve been friends with Finn for around 5 years and it wasn’t easy being his friend when he first arrived next door. When he first moved in the summer of 7th grade, he was a bitter kid who would refuse to make any friends, he thought his parents were bluffing when they told him they were moving closer to the beach.

▸he laughed at them before resuming his game. Man did he wish he took them seriously so he could’ve begged them to let him stay with his grandparents. Now he’s stuck in some sea side beach where sand somehow ends up inside his shoes. WHERE DID IT EVEN COME FROM?

▸when he first arrived at his new house, he wasn’t pleased. Finn could already tell he wasn’t going to have the best school years judging from the loud music coming from next door. bahh, it’s probably some popular kid who he’s going to the same school with. what luck …

▸setting the cardboard box filled with items onto the porch of his new home, Finn makes his way back to the moving truck for more boxes before a voice calls out from behind him.

▸“Hi, are you our new neighbor?”

▸Finn grits his teeth, should he scare off the nosey neighbor or should he be friendly so he can have an easier time at school? …fuck it, lets scare them. He turns around, mouth open in a snarl as he readies himself to shout some harsh words before snapping his jaw shut.

▸there stood you, jean shorts with a t-shirt of some anime character that he probably doesn’t know of, with a tray full of cookies and a container of lemonade in your hands. but he didn’t focus too much on what you had or wore. Finn’s blue eyes were focused on your shy smile.

▸he was enamored. his parents noticed his zoned out look. his dad waved a hand in front of his face to snap him out of it while his mom was busy giggling while greeting you. You on the other hand were confused on why Finn was just staring at you. is your face a mess? oh no, is your shirt inside out?!

▸his mom reassures that you look fine and thanked you for the snacks and beverages. You decide to wave the family of 3 goodbye before heading back to your front door where your parents were waiting for you a smile on their faces.

▸when his parents FINALLY get his attention, he mumbled something before storming off to his new unfurnished room. there he would figure out what the fuck just happened? was he curious about you? i mean, one thing for sure was that he thought you were pretty. very pretty…

▸Finn bristles at the thought of finding you attractive, pink painting his pale skin from the ridicules thought. no way, he thought, shaking his head. this is just... some weird interest, it’ll die out soon

▸for the first week since moving in, Finn avoids you… or at least tries to. both of your parents and his became great friends and constantly invited each other for barbecues or a simple day at the beach, which Finn hated the most. during summers back where he lived, he mostly stayed inside, playing his games and staying up ungodly hours of the night before abruptly passing out on the edge of his bed.

▸yeah, safe to say that he lived a pretty unhealthy lifestyle. Finn was a tall, pale, skinny kid who was bullied constantly at his old school, which led him to several fights, and he basically had no friends, so his parents were pretty worried about him. so, they decided to move the family to a beach town, hoping he would find friends.

▸that’s where you come in. whenever Finn’s family comes over, you take this chance to get to know your new neighbor better. and so did your siblings. Finn couldn’t say he hated it, your siblings always managed to make him snort from any witty comebacks towards anyone they didn’t like.

▸he also started to enjoy your presence the more time you spent together. over the next few weeks, Finn’s summer became filled with laughter, sunburns, beach days, and shy glances. it was official, he had a crush on you. on you! the girl who is wayyyy out of his league. the girl who spent most of her summer pulling him out of his shell. there’s no you’ll ever like him, but being your friend is good enough for him.

▸then years go by in a blink of an eye, you’re both in high school, seniors to be exact. Finn and you have been attached to the hip since that summer, your friendship blossoming throughout the years. everyone knew the pair of friends. ‘Oh, you’re looking for Finn? Find [Name] first and I guarantee you, that he’ll be there.’ and vice versa.

▸but everyone shared the same thought whenever the pair came across their minds ‘when are they going to start dating?’ they can’t handle your love filled gazes at each other. it’s painful to watch and listening to your poor attempts of flirting makes them want to rip their ears from their head.

▸over the years, Finn has changed drastically. he gained a tan, from spending hours on the beach with you, his eating habits got better, he had dyed his hair to a beach blond a year ago, his brown roots were starting to show. and he had gained a bit of muscles from playing in the school's soccer team.

▸his parents were thankful for your existence for it brought their son out of his shell and it gave him the chance to experience life other than video games. he stopped getting into fights for any harsh words that came his or your way. it wasn’t easy for you to stop him from jumping over the table and body slamming some guy because he made fun of your weight.

▸while he’s mellowed down a bit and has a kinder attitude towards other, he won’t hesitate to be a dick and get rough. of course, he’ll never use his harsher side of himself towards you. if he did, he’ll never forgive himself. you’re his everything. his rock and most importantly, his best friend. though he wishes to be more who’s been with him through thick and thin.

▸when he got into fights, you were there to take care of his wounds. when his grandpa passed away, you were there to give him a shoulder to cry on. whatever hardships he faced; you were always there…with that same smile you gave him when you first met. that stupid smile that made him fall in love with you.

_ _ _ _ _

should I make a part 2 where Finn actually confesses??? 👀

Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi!

[deerdeardarling]

CZV: Mama Wolf Arc

I've had this draft for a while, and finally have some articulated version of it! Kinda, lol uh below is like the little I wrote for the draft, the rest of my explanation will be under that. Very patchwork I know but this is how my shriveled up brain works, enjoy!

Okay picture this. lil' hop age 5-6. He's sad and lonely cause leon just became champ and is still stuck in Wyndon and lil' hops got no friends other than his wooloo. So one day while he's playing outside he sees the road that leads up to the slumbering wield. At this point the wield isn't seen as dangerous by everyone just yet, most just assume cause it's a massive forest its brimming with pokemon. Kinda is. So most just leave the forest alone. Not lil hop tho, nope lil buggar just runs right through the opening and tells wooloo to tackle the first skwovet he sees (or hop would shout a move he's seen leon use on the telly but wooloo doesn't know that so he just tries his best to get hop out of the woods asap). After 5-10 mins, hop wins! With newfound confidence and a burst of adrenaline from his first battle he ventures further (like brealy pass the first patches of grass) into the forest with wooloo trying to forcefully drag him out-

Recent write out v

So in CZV the Postwick bros lost their dad when they were fairly young, like 2/3yro Hop; 7/8yro Leon; leaving their grieving mother and Leon emotionally taking care of Hop :[ but as we all know Lee went of on his journey at 10, leaving Hop really lonely at age 5, his friends next door just moved away, and all the adults push him off. He watches Leon on the tv every step of the gym challenge, up until Lee wins the semi finals.

That night Hop has a stress dream; about being alone and lost in the Slumbering Weald, he panics- until a tall woman with long hair similar to his own gently approaches, promising to guide him home and keep him safe. Hop unaware that the woman is a human disguise put on by Zacian after she felt a presence in her woods. Zacian knows instantly that Hop is her next chosen; but it's far too soon for the two to see each other, so she puts it off as a one time thing.

Until Hop shows up the next night, and the next and the next until she can't deny the bond she wants to have with him, that she can already feel what a hero he'll be (just like an old friend). So every time Hop has a dream in the weald, Zacian is there in her human illusion to guide and protect him, keep him company in his loneliest moments

Hop eventually gains enough courage to venture into the weald during the day...and Mama wolf (or Auntie Aster as Zac told him to call her) is waiting on the other side of the fog; the two's bonds grow stronger, as he tells her about the world outside the forest and She tells him stories of old; the longer ones about old kings help him fall asleep the most. The two are almost inseparable - which worries Zamazenta greatly, as Zacian is using what little magic she as left in their slumber. He voices his worries but she puts it off, not wanting to go through loss again. Zama tries to get a third voice; either Suicune or Cobalion - but that just makes Zac angry.

It isn't until Leon gets some time off and gets to come back home to Postwick for a short while, and also desperate to check up on Hop after hearing worrying things about him talking to someone their mum or grandparents or even Sonia doesn't know. when Hop meets him he's super excited to introduce Lee to Aster(Zacian). But when lil 5yro Hop tries to drag Leon into the terrifying forest Leon stops him and tries to figure out what's going on with Hop.

Well that just desolves into the brothers first fight, with Hop yelling at Leon about how Lee left him before Hoppy runs crying into the Weald and right into Zacian's arms. After comfort and talking at the alter (in the weald) Zacian convinces Hop to apologize because his brother's just worried about him. and After seeing the two unite from afar Zacian, heartbreakingly decides it would be best to break the bond between her and Hop for now. The next morning Hop wakes up with a start hearing the loudest howl from the Weald; all his memories of Zac have become muddled and will eventually fade to the back of his mind with time, he does , however, always noticed how the Fog seeped out of the weald that night, as if trying to reach out towards him.

[misty-groves]

Do you understand that we will never be the same again?

Fandom: DC, Batman specifically

Characters: Ivy Wayne (oc), Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd's Memorial

Relationships: Ivy Wayne & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & Ivy Wayne, Damian Wayne & Ivy Wayne

Summary: Ivy comes home after everything that happened in the league of Assassins, and she sees the infamous 'Good Solider' plaque. It doesn't go very well. (Aka: I'm not telling you good job dad this memorial was shit!)

Rating: T

Warnings: cursing, Lazarus pit side effects, bad coping, Good Solider memorial, mental illness, violence, Bruce Wayne is Bad At Communication, Damian Wayne is Bad At communication

Other: If I missed anything, please let me Also I wrote one of my favorite lines ever in this fic so even if you don't read it please know that I wrote a banger line: "...Bruce Wayne puts his foot in his mouth for breakfast..."

-------

Ivy lets herself get lead into the bat-cave with a soft smile, watching as Damian sees it all for the first time. The boy looks around in reserved awe, unused to things such as a giant penny or a dinosaur in a cave.

She thinks it's adorable.

She's got an ache in her chest watching her brother too, but that's okay.

Going to the cave without her big brothers is weird. But that's what's happening and she's not going to let it ruin her day. (That would be letting The Assholes win. Ivy doesn't do that anymore.)

She glances to where Tim Drake hovers by the Bat computer in a modified Robin costume with darker colors. She feels a swell of green rushing up and immediately squashes it down.

Robin is magic. It's power.

And Her Robin wouldn't want her punishing the new Robin.

Besides, her problems are far more to do with the adults than the kid.

"Ivy?" Damian prods as he turns to her.

She turns her gaze to her baby brother, "Yes?"

"Where is your suit?" Damian asks.

"Oh, unless they moved it it should be up there." She smiles as she motions to the elevated walkway with a row of suits in tubes.

The suits are all retired or last choice back-ups there, from every hero to have used the Bat Cave as a base.

"Well let us go examine it." Damian declares as he marches them forwards.

The boy moves like a general, not waiting for confirmation simply trusting his will to be followed.

Ivy follows her brother in perfect step with the younger.

Bruce trails after his kids, as of unsure what to do. Which seems fair, he hasn't seen his daughter since she died and he met Damian yesterday.

Ivy snickers when they pass the original Batman suit. The blast from the past is both nostalgic and hilarious.

She'd forgotten her dad had that cowl for a bit. (Thank god he changed it.)

The keep walking past retired or last choice Batsuits before the move into the suits Dick has used.

"What is this monstrosity?" Damian gapes as he stops beside the original Robin Costume.

The original costume is a sigh to behold, bright traffic light colors doing nothing to aid stealth. The glorified leotard with a button up shirt and pixie boots is certainly memorable.

"Ah yeah, Dick said pants took away from his aerodynamics." Ivy says with a snort.

"Those-" Damian screeches in abject horror- " are scaly underwear!"

"I don't know why Dick is like that." She shrugs. "He added pants later. He got cold."

Damian just gives her a dubious look before turning beck to the fashion crime that he just witnessed and pursing his lips.

They keep walking, passing several retired costumes.

Ivy stops to mourn the disco-wing suit, losing the respect of her baby brother for her adoration of the travesty of a suit. (She thinks that's a little rude since it was a little bit of a memorium to other heroes and also Iconic.)

She then says a quick farewell to the slutty titans costumes from That Era. Saying something about 'everyday was a tits out kinda day back then'.

Bruce just makes a face, wondering if this is somehow karma.

They pass a few more costumes, including her own, before stopping at Jason's memorial.

Damian had some thoughts about her costume she designed at age nine, sighting it rather impractical in the bright red but at least it had pants.

The memorial draws the attention of both siblings.

Bruce watches the children, unsure what to expect. Damian has never gotten to meet Jason... Ivy had adored the boy though.

Bruce just- he just hopes his daughter like the memorial. That it brings her closure to see her big brother remembered.

"Jason Todd." Damian reads the name on the plaque, only to continue "Good Solider."

Ivy stiffens, gaze snapping from the ruined suit to the polished metal.

The bloody uniform in the case feels like a slap in the face to everything Jason- and Robin- ever was. A tragic shrine to a death that was unearned and needlessly cruel.

She reads the plaque, 'In memory of Jason Todd. Second Robin. A Good Solider.'

Oh.

She feels her blood start to boil.

"What. The. Fuck?!" Ivy snarls as she whirls around on her dad, fighting the urge to bare her teeth in outright threat.

"Was he not a good solider?" Damian frowns, eyeing the case and wondering why they would bestow such a high title on someone who didn't earn it.

"He was a child!" Ivy snaps sharply as her eyes narrow while staring her dad down.

"Ivy it's just a memorial." Bruce says weakly.

He knows as soon as he says it that it was the wrong thing to say.

Ivy tilts her head slowly, almost predatory. Her eyes almost look green despite them having been a different color her whole life as far as he knows.

She turns back to the memorial slowly, eyes flicking back and forth between the destroyed suit and the plaque.

It's a betrayal to the highest degree.

Ivy can handle a betrayal against her.

This is again Jason.

She has never handled disrespect towards her people well. The fire in her veins demands payment and she can feel the green starting to rise again.

Ivy knows she should probably fight the green but she doesn't think she's wrong to be so upset. In fact- she thinks Jason would understand.

Her vision is starting to blur.

"Ivy." Damian says as he steps closer. "You are blowing this out of proportion-"

Ivy is swinging a fist at the glass before she can decide if she wants to. Green swims fully in her vision.

Her fist connects and cracks the bulletproof glass with a satisfying crunch.

"Ivy!" Bruce gasps.

The horror he feels at both the strength required to crack the case first try and the action in general are rising rapidly.

She likes the sound of the cracking glass. A frenzied- blood thirsty grin pulls at her face.

Green only gets stronger. Her blood starts to boil.

Ivy revels in the sting of her knuckles as she swings alternating punches at the glass until it shatters.

Someone grabs her arm and that's all it takes.

Green overtakes her and she loses herself. She can't see anyone.

She fights whoever grabbed her arm mercilessly. Slamming fists, knees, elbows, and kicks into their form.

Nothing is okay.

And then-

Then she's somewhere else, axe being pressed into her hands.

She can do this.

She feels someone directing her in a task she can't identify. She doesn't know much but her body moves to comply.

Who ever it is calling the shots has to be one of three people, so it's probably no more dangerous for her than usual. No more dangerous than poison.

-------

Damian sits a few feet from his sister, watching her chop the wood he set her up with. He would usually have joined her fight, but it seems bad form to kill their father.

He also doesn’t exactly understand what set Ivy off. The little metal plate seemed a kind memorial. What better to he than a good soilder?

She's been slowing down on the wood chopping for a bit, probably coming back to herself.

He's been out here with her for a few hours now and he still couldn't place the source of her wrath.

"Ivy?" Damian asks.

She turns slowly, eyes still almost glowing. "Dami?"

He ignores the rush of warmth hearing the Arabic term of endearment, knowing he needs to focus on other things. His sister is always too free with affection anyways.

She's not all back, but she's a lot more in control.

She very likely knows who he is and where they are though.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks.

She stares at him, brows knitting. Her memories seem to he returning as her eyes take on the same stormy hue as usual when upset. "Less foggy."

"Good."

"What... did I do?"

"Attacked Father."

"Fuck." Ivy groans.

"What set you off?" He asks. Far less afraid of her Pit Rage than most.

She sighs slowly, looking up to the sky. "Jason's memorial. They put that stupid fucken- Good Solider!"

"I do not understand."

"Good Solider!" Ivy snaps sharply, eyes flickering a toxic green glow and back to green grey stormy seas. "GOOD FUCKEN SO'LD'AH?! MY BROTHA WAS NOBODY"S FUCKEN SO'LD'AH!"

Her accent thickens and morphs into the Crime alley accent she hides. She's got her arms moving with her words.

"That seems to be a high compliment." Damian acknowledges.

"JASON WASN'T A FUCKEN SO'LD'AH! JASE WAS A KID! A FUCKEN KID WHO WENT 'N DIED IN A BLOODY FUCK UP CAUSE BRUCE IS TOO STUPID TA KILL JOKAH!"

"Father's reluctance to killing hardly constitutes a reason to put down the memory of a talented fighter."

Ivy gives him a look that promises she's taking a pound of flesh from someone.

Damian isn't scared though, he is in no danger. Not from his sister.

Instead, Ivy takes several slow and deliberate breaths. She's crossing her arms as she tries to reign herself in

He just waits. He knows it will all come with time.

"Dami," She says, soft despite her anger. She looks to him again, eyes free of Lazarus glow for the moment. She's obviously struggling with her accent when she asks, "If I died, would ya want my memorial ta be like Jason's?"

"What?"

"If I died, would ya want me to have a memorial just like Jason's?" She asks as she tries to fight back the accent further.

She has never liked the looks the accent earns her even though she's not exactly ashamed it is easier to hide.

Damian can not help feeling like this is a simple question. But the way she asks it- careful to phrase it...

He is sure he is missing something.

He clicks his tongue, "Tt, I would never let your uniform be displayed in such dis-repair."

She snorts, "Glad I'm not the only one who thinks it was distasteful."

She's forced most of the crime alley out of her voice.

Damian watches her, trying to puzzle out her distaste of it all.

He agrees the ruined costume is tacky and maybe even disrespectful but the plaque seems respectful and of high praise.

"I can't believe dad." Ivy sighs heavily. "Reducing Jason to a solider. Oh that mother- Jason wasn't a good solider."

"Is the memorial a lie? Was he a bad fighter?"

Ivy gives a startled laugh, eyes falling to her brother. "No. No, Jase... Jase was good fighter, but he wasn't a solider."

Damian purses his lips again. He loathes to admit defeat but if he craves any chance at understanding he must. "If you want me to understand your upset, you must explain it better."

She just sighs. "I'm mad about the phrase good solider. It makes it sound like all Jason was. It's like that all Jase was to dad. A solider."

"So?"

Ivy grits her teeth for a moment.

Then she takes a slow shudders breath, reminding herself as firmly as possible that for every wrong she's feeling right now Damian isn't involved. Remembering that her brother isn't the one behind it and is in-fact just a kid looking for answers.

Damian doesn’t get it, but he does know she's beyond upset.

"If I died and my memorial only said "Ivy Wayne, good solider... how would you feel."

"Angry your name was messed up." Damian huffs. "You are an Al Ghul. Your name is Ivy Al Ghul- Wayne."

She huffs, "Thank you. But if all it said was my name and good solider... what then?"

He does not understand the sudden surge of protest in his mind. If he were with anyone else... He wouldn't even bother trying to untangle it but he's been working on trying to understand feelings with his sister.

So... Damian thinks.

Good Solider... that is high praise and if his sister was memorialized that way in the league it would be an honor.

His sister is a fierce Warrior, one of the only teachers he hasn't surpassed. She's their grandfather's beloved Hawk. She's the only person he's seen hold their own in fights against their mother and grandfather both.

Though, the softer- sentimental part of him that he ignores often disagrees.

His sister is a Warrior... but she is more.

She's the only person who has been truly and unfailingly loyal to Damian as a person and not as an Al Ghul. She sang him lullabies and held him through his most embarrassing nightmares.

Ivy may have taught Damian to throw knives with deadly precision, but she also soothes his tears.

"I would tell stories... You are a Warrior to behold, riati... but I would tell others about you outside fighting."

Ivy gives a bitter sweet smile, the kind she gives when he's said the right thing but it doesn’t help anything. "That's what's wrong, Damian. They've memorialized him as a fighter and stripped away everything else."

"Oh." He says as his brows knit.

"Yeah."

He looks up to her, trying to find the words to express the twisting feeling in his chest. "I am... sorry."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault."

"I know." He agrees.

"So.... how badly did I attack dad? Is he hurt?"

"Of course he is. You rarely miss." Damian says with pride he doubts he will ever lose.

His sister is amazing like that

"How badly hurt?"

"Broken ribs. Broken wrist. Broken nose." He shrugs. "Not too bad."

"Oh god." She cokes off, blood draining from her face.

"What?"

"I- I am so mad at him but I- I didn't wanna break his nose or ribs or anything."

"He will heal and get over it."

"I don't know that he will... I guess I should go face the music."

"If he makes a fuss I can always seek retribution for you."

Ivy gives a soft smile, "Thank you, bit that's really not necessary. Things are different here."

"We will see. Perhaps you can tell me absolutely Jason later."

"Maybe. I should go see how it's gonna go."

-------

Bruce sits in the cave searching the data base for information on the Falcones with Tim at his side when he hears Ivy coming down the stairs.

Tim stiffens, glancing to Bruce.

He shakes his head to the boy. No reason to react before they know what's going on.

He tenses, though, unsure how this is about to go. He doesn’t want to fight his daughter, but he won't let her attack Tim.

Ivy comes down, arms crossed across her test and shoulders raised. She stares at the floor though, which is a point towards no more physical altercation.

"Ivy?" Bruce asks.

She looks over, face a mix of afraid and angry. "Dad."

"What are you doing down here?"

"I wanted to talk. Maybe explain." She shrugs halfheartedly.

"Oh?" Bruce grunts.

"First of all, that memorial is shit." She scoffs.

"You had no right to wreck it." Bruce says evenly.

She takes a slow breath. "I'm not here to argue."

"Good. Then you know what you did was wrong and you shouldn't have attacked me."

Ivy grits her teeth, eyes flashing the toxic green from before as she takes a slow breath again. "I apologize for attacking you, I thought I was over the pit rage episodes."

"What?" Bruce croaks.

He knows, logically, that his daughter was put in the Lazarus pit. He was unaware she had negative side effects but he should have expected it.

"I got too upset and Pit Madness took over. I know that's not an excuse and I am sorry. Even if that memorial is a blatant disrespect to Jason... I shouldn't have attacked you."

"Pit... madness."

"Yes. I know I fucked up-"

Damian is hurdling down the stairs, sword on his back and a challenge in his eyes. He looks ready for a fight when he sees the hitch of his sister's shoulders.

He's caught by his arm, Ivy moving quickly. "Damian what the hell?!"

Bruce just blinks.

"Father was about to do irreparable damage with his words." Damian scoffs.

"Oh, sweetheart, Bruce Wayne puts his foot in his mouth for breakfast. I'm sure I'll live." Ivy says fondly, reaching out to ruffle her brothers hair as if he wasn't ready to engage in combat with Batman.

Bruce just watches. It's almost reassuring to see his daughter still has a soft spot for children but this is all so weird.

"Go back... you suffer pit madness?" Bruce frowns.

"Sometimes." She shrugs. "I'm working on it."

"So... the attack was pit madness?"

"I know it doesn’t excuse anything. But yes." Ivy says stiffly.

Damian is glaring again, as if challenging Bruce. Even with his elbow in his sister's hand he looks ready to pounce.

Bruce is struck for a moment by a memory. He can almost see Jason holding Ivy by her elbow all those years ago in an attempt to stop the girl from attacking a bully.

"We can talk about the pit madness later. That explains lot. I would still appreciate if you refrained from destroying memorials."

"That memorial was shit." Ivy scoffs again.

"That memorial is for my son."

"That memorial is for a fucking child solider, not Jason." Ivy says shortly.

Bruce flinches a little. His son has never been a solider. His son-

Alfred put up the plaque.

But the looks his daughter gives him is scorching, the kind of look that screams she's not going to forget this. That she will remember this and it's going to be something that cuts a divide between her and the culprit forever.

Bruce is faced with a choice, like he so often is.

He can choose to take the blame, and face likely irreparable damage to his just found relationship with his daughter.... Or He can tell the truth,and turn that firey rage on Alfred, and watch his daughter lose faith in the man who's basically her grandfather.

Bruce makes a choice to save other people, just like always.

"Jason was a fighter." He says stiffly.

Damian clicks his tongue at that. "Tt, clearly you don't understand the concept of empathy."

Ivy has to take a breath at that one. She's been working on Empathy with Damian for- years. In the environment Ra's Al Ghul provided it was an uphill battle both ways and in the rain. But he's come further. He's closer.

Damian is a little better at identifying complex emotions in his mother and his sister.

Bruce is floored, getting that retort from a child who threatened his protege last night is surreal.

Tim chokes on a noise, "What?"

"Damian, go upstairs for me, please. If you want I'll tell you about Jason later."

Damian gives her a considering look, as if searching for answers to a question he hasn't asked. Whatever he finds though is enough.

"I expect as much." The boy says before going back upstairs.

Bruce watches the temperamental boy storm upstairs with a frown. "That was... efficient."

"What was?" Ivy frowns.

"You're good with Damian." Bruce says. Trying to find the words he wants. "He's so temperamental. He challenged me to combat last night."

Tim nods. "Yeah he threatened me too."

"I'll talk to him. But you should understand he was raised by Ra's and Talia."

"I do."

"I don't know that you do. Also, if you ever make another memorial say Good Solider I'm going to feed your balls to a pack of rabid dogs while I make you watch."

"Excuse me?" Bruce gapes at the colorful threat that he can't be sure is actually empty.

"That's a shit memorial dad. Jason was more than a solider and if he saw that it would break his heart."

"Ivy..."

She gives a sharp, predatory smile that screams Talia. Ivy just blinks serenely. "No more child soldiers, Dad. No more shitty memorials."

"Kid..."

"I'm going upstairs because I'm losing my grip. Try to be patient with Damian." Ivy says before she storms back upstairs.

Tim turns to Bruce, frowning. "What was that? Why didn't you tell her Alfred put up the memorial?"

"It'd hurt her worse."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry you had to see that. And I'm sorry Damian threatened you."

"It's not your fault." Tim says. "I just... Don't remember Cardinal being so volatile."

"Some of that is the pit madness. She's doing very well with it all things considered." Bruce muses.

He can recall the way pit madness rots the mind. He knows how easily the Lazarus Pit corrupts completely.

He wonders how much of her control stems from the obvious need to protect Damian?

"She's right... That memorial is shit." Tim mutters to himself.

Bruce huffs.