#I want a mother’s rage once and awhile

[regent-overthinker]

I don’t care I’m going to say it

A lot of what you guys pretend is Hades and Persephone, is everything Eros and Psyche already are

[her-favorite]

RETURN; J. VALESKA

(HUSBAND)!JEROME VALESKA X F!WIFE!READER

WARNINGS: i mean it’s jerome so

WC: 3342

A/N: requested! i really hope you like it!! sorry if i got a little carried away in the beginning, i tend to start one topic and just dont stop 😭 also can we talk about how hot his hand looks in that gif omfg.

SUMMARY: You’ve spent your whole life with Jerome Valeska. When the both of you started a life of crime, he managed to fall dead in Theo Galavan’s hand. It was hard without him, but having your husband back in your arms was all that mattered.

-

It’s been over a year since Jerome died.

For over a year you’ve spent inside your house collecting, smelling, crying over his belongings that were still left with you. You both owned the house, or rather, Jerome threatened the actual owner to give it to you both, putting a gun to the man’s head. Obviously, the owner agreed, his body shaking as he watched Jerome’s wicked smile spread across his pale cheeks.

You and Jerome grew up together. It started when you had joined Haly’s Circus and you managed to catch his troublesome eye as he tended to watch you every now and then. You kept to yourself for awhile when you were younger since it was the first time traveling with the drama-filled Circus.

After a couple years at that hellhole (as Jerome liked to call it), you both grew close. You managed to bring out a side to him that he didn’t even know existed. Which brings you to the time that Jerome had been watching you from his trailer. It was around a year before you both traveled to Gotham and you grew more accustomed to the circus living.

The circus troupe had stopped somewhere that you couldn’t remember when you think about this memory, but the thought felt embedded in your mind. The exasperating ginger was sitting out in front of his parked trailer that he shared with his whore of a mother. Just a few years before, his pathetic excuse of a brother had fled, but Jerome didn’t want to think about that. He was sipping on some lemonade that he had stole from a stand further into the attraction, occasionally biting down onto the straw. His eyes followed the way you walked; your fast legs making their away across the grounds and towards someone’s trailer. You were visibly irritated by something, your body language and the stern expression on your face told him everything he needed to know.

At first, he was agitated. What were you doing going to someone else’s trailer? Why was his girl meeting up with someone else other than him? His face showed anger as he watched you from a distance. Your hand reached up and knocked repeatedly on the person’s door, managing to hurt your knuckles in the process. Once Jerome saw the man that opened the door, he felt his body erupt with rage. Your boyfriend.

Obviously, Jerome never liked the asshole. Maybe it was his clouded judgement that told him that you belonged to him and that you were only made to be with him. Or maybe it was because your boyfriend was an asshole. He never treated you with respect and he always tried to steer you away from Jerome. The ginger was more than displeased with the persistent actions of the other man. The amount of nagging and abuse he got from his mother already started the murderous thoughts that occupied his mind, and your shitty boyfriend didn’t help his tenacious thoughts.

At that point, all Jerome could hear were mumbles. He was far enough away to the point where you wouldn’t be able to see him, but close enough for him to see you. All he could make out was your backside as you faced your boyfriend’s trailer, seeming to release your pent up frustrations on the other man. It didn’t seem to be going well as your hands shoved him, the man tripping backwards slightly. Jerome immediately knew that it was your boyfriend’s fault. It always was.

An animated gasp left Jerome’s lips as he, not only saw, but heard the slap you left on the man. The loud sound of your palm smacking the guy’s face echoed in the cool air. Jerome put his fist over his mouth to muffle his laugh once he saw your boyfriend’s face. He was furious, to say the least.

Before he could get his hands on you, Jerome just couldn’t help himself. He quickly got up from his sitting position and jogged his way over to you. Upon hearing footsteps, you looked to your side to be met with your best friend. Or, rather crush. But that’s not something the ginger had to know.

“Heya, guys! What’s going on?” A smug smirk was cemented on Jerome’s face as he looked from you to your boyfriend. He had to stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat when he saw the other man get even angrier. Jerome always knew how to push people’s buttons.

“This asshole cheated on me.” Your words were said with pure venom as you reached forward and pushed the man standing in front of you again. The glee filled expression on the taller man’s face quickly fell in response to your answer. His jaw tightened as he looked over at your boyfriend, well, ex. When the other man finally tore his eyes away from your angered ones, he saw the dangerous look inside Jerome’s. He was intimidated by the ginger. At first, it was because of how close the two of you were. That was until he heard the way he talked about certain people; the constant need to have your attention and the way he talked to himself about silent promises that he wanted to fulfill. Jerome was dangerous and the man knew that.

“What?” Was the only thing that left Jerome’s lips. He was frozen in his spot before quickly taking a step forward and wrapping his hand around the frightened man’s throat. As if on instinct, Jerome threw the man against the front of his trailer, his hand tightening around the sensitive structure. Threatening words and swears left the gingers lips, his grin widening as he saw the man cower underneath his hold. “If you ever lay a hand on her again,” He leans closer, his green eyes now filled black. His voice was coated with pure malice as he talked, “I will kill you.” Not blinking with a dead stare, Jerome uttered the final words to the man and then finally let go. Your ex fell to the ground, grasping his throat and took deep, fast breaths as he tries to regain his oxygen.

As Jerome takes a step back, away from the other man, he looks over at you. The look you had in your eye was different, something he’s never seen before. His grimace switched into a smile as he made his way over towards you.

“Y’know you’re my girl, right?” He whispers as he stands over you, his breath hot against your lips. Without speaking, you nod your head in response. “Good.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheek. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing your hand and walking away from the scene. “Let’s get some cotton candy! I’ve been cravin’ it all day!” And just like that, Jerome was back to normal.

Some people would call the both of you crazy, at least that’s the word on the street. When Jerome finally went through with his plan about killing his mother, he was sent to Arkham Asylum. To your surprise, you weren’t. No one saw you as an accomplice to the insane ginger’s actions, which made the wait for your lover to break out from the old building dreadful.

As time passed and you sat on a hill that captured the sunset beautifully, you weren’t expecting to hear ruffling in the grass behind you. Whipping your head back to see who it was, a gasp left your lips and you immediately landed on your feet.

“Knew you’d be here, doll. This was our spot, after all.” Jerome grinned his crazy smile. He laughed loudly as he felt you run into his arms, squeezing him against you tight. “Y’know, all that time in the looney bin really got me thinkin’.” He starts off. You break away from the hug and look up at him as his hands settle on your hips. “I’m not making a whole speech, y’know I’m not one for words.” He smiles and winks, before continuing. “I wanna marry ya, Y/N.” The statement caught you off guard as your eyes widen and your lips part in disbelief. “I want’cha as my wife, doll. It’s been nagging at me since I got thrown into that funny farm. And blah, blah, blah, here I am!” He throws his arms out wide, before laughing. He knew you were going to say yes, you’ve never denied him before.

Immediately accepting his proposal, you gripped him so tight in a hug that he felt all of the new things he had to adjust to with Galavan and the Maniax just lift off of his shoulders. All he needed was you. That was all that ever truly mattered to him.

Days passed by since the both of you got married (a small ceremony with a persistent Barbara Kean that wanted to officiant the wedding and random, horrified bystanders being held at gunpoint as you both stood on the both of your hill together). It was sweet and nice; something that wasn’t really common anymore. It felt good to get a break from the chaos that Theo had you both commencing around the city. At least for you, everyone knows that Jerome can’t sit still without causing a little bit of trouble.

It was finally the night of the Gala and Jerome was more than ecstatic to be a ‘magician’. He paraded around your shared bedroom, loudly practicing new tricks. The ginger searched for your approval once he finished one and grinned wide as he saw you clap for him. Maybe it was because of the lack of attention he got growing up, but Jerome loved having you praise him. It was a new feeling; it made him feel warm inside. But no one needed to know that; not even Jerome liked to admit it.

Theo had chose you to be his assistant in the show, saying that your chemistry would be good and make it more believable. You had immediately agreed, wanting to always be by your ginger’s side.

Later that night, the both of you stood behind the curtain and waited for the cue. His green eyes searched over your body several times, ogling the way you looked in the tight pink clothes. When you jokingly called him out on it, he gave you a wink and said, “Don’t worry, doll, as soon as this is over, we’ll make some magic of our own.” He cackled with volume, only quieting down when you put a hand over his mouth. The last thing either of you wanted was to be caught too soon.

Once the both of you made it on stage, the plan was going perfectly. Everything went accordingly and you and Jerome were having the time of your lives. Finally, when your disguises were off and Jerome had thrown a knife into the deputy mayor’s chest, the sound of gunshots filled the vast room and screams were heard everywhere. You could hear Jerome’s laugh clear as day as he watched everyone shriek in fear.

Eventually talking on the phone with Detective Jim Gordon, Jerome managed to get under the man’s skin. Jim’s girlfriend was laying on the wheel as you watched your husband laugh into the phone and then straighten back up.

“I think that went well.” Jerome smiles and looks back over at you. A grin graces your features as you nod, silently agreeing with him. With a quick appearance from Theo Galavan, it wasn’t a hard decision to hit him in the head with the hammer that was conveniently sitting there. As more unfolded and Jerome called out for the one and only Bruce Wayne, the air seemed to tense up. When he finally got his hands on him, he held a threatening knife to the younger kid’s throat. You knew better than to disrupt Jerome when he had his mind set on something, so you watched him and maybe if you weren’t too focused on your husband’s actions, you could’ve stopped it.

The sight of a knife stabbing into Jerome’s throat made your entire body feel like it was on ice. Goosebumps filled your skin and a scream left your throat without you realizing. He fell to the floor with Theo still sticking the blade into him as Jerome’s blood gushed out of his mouth, dribbling up near his eye. The sight still haunts you to this day.

When Galavan finally stepped away from the other man, your knees buckled and your hands clutched Jerome’s suit. You begged and pleaded with him, with anything, that he wasn’t dead; that this was just a nightmare. A really horrible nightmare.

It wasn’t.

You watched him take his last breath as his eyes focused on yours. You convinced yourself that he wanted you to be the last thing he saw before he died; and you were left hoping that thought was true. His gold band on his left ring finger seemed to shine brighter than before as it reminded you that you were now a widow. No way in hell could you ever be with someone else when you were swooned by Jerome Valeska.

“I love you.” His last words were tight and quiet and barely left his throat, but they were crystal clear in your ears. It almost felt like you were the one being stabbed as his eyes lost their light and his body relaxed against the cold stage, his warm blood still pouring from his lips. You sobbed and screamed as your hands clutched his clothes. He wasn’t dead, he was just joking, like he always does. It was a ploy to get the GCPD out of here, right? It wasn’t real, it was just Jerome playing a sick, sick joke, like always. You would’ve done anything to be correct.

Before the police could catch you, you quickly fled the scene once people started to move again. You ran as far as you could, not stopping at the constant sirens crowding the night air. You knew Jerome wouldn’t want you to stay there and be caught; he wanted to be free, that’s what he stood for.

Now, this is where you were: sitting in your once shared house, curling up on the couch while you twirled the larger ring on your right finger. You had accomplished stealing your husband’s ring before you ran that night and you haven’t took it off since, even if the ring was too big.

It felt like a never ending cycle as you twisted the ring on your finger, your eyes captivated by the golden band. It meant more to you now. It didn’t just hold memories of the two of you, but it felt like a silent promise of you never letting go of him. Not that you ever could. Jerome felt like he was stitched into your heart, never leaving unless someone reached in and tore him from you. Even then, you knew you wouldn’t be able to let him go.

Your body straightened up when you heard a noise come from the entrance of your house. Ever since you ran from the sight where your husband was killed, you were off grid to anyone else in Gotham. No one knew where you lived, especially the GCPD or the other villains that roamed around now. To others, you weren’t a threat anymore. You never realized how much you depended on the ginger until he was gone.

“Knew you’d be here. Wow, I got two for two!” A loud voice and a cackle was heard behind you as your body flinched. You felt frozen in your spot as your head whipped back and your eyes met his. His eyes. Jerome’s. “I thought you’d be happy to see me, doll. Where’s my hug and the “oh my god, J, I missed you so much!’” Jerome wraps his arms around himself in a hug and then laughs when he’s done talking. “I’m guessin’ you haven’t seen my show?” Before he could point to the tv or even finish his sentence, your body bolted up from the couch and threw yourself at him.

“You’re here,” Your voice was breathless as your words were said with disbelief. You felt the vibration against your cheek before you heard the laugh that left him. His arms wound around your shoulders tightly, sighing as he felt your touch again.

“Yeah, toots. First thing that came to the ol’ noggin’ was to see my girl.” His right hand reached up to cup the back of your head and pull gently on your hair to make you look up at him. “Still as gorgeous as the last time I saw ya." Jerome smiles. You were finally snapped out of your daze once you took a good look at his face. Staples littered his skin, red circles hovered around his eyes, his skin was stretched and tight, and his grin was even more devilish as his smile was pulled to each side, making him look more intimidating.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” His voice grew defensive as he noticed the way your eyes stuck on different parts of his skin. On the way to the both your house, Jerome would’ve rather went through death again than think of you not loving him anymore. He thought that maybe you outgrew him, that maybe he was just a terrible phase in your life and now that he was gone you could do whatever you wanted. He never really considered the word ‘insecure’ before, until he saw the way his face was restructured now. It was weird and gross it even made Jerome upset. He couldn’t bare the possibility that you could feel the same.

“Nothing.” You responded quickly. Your hands moved away from his waist and slowly slid to his neck, not wanting to touch the sensitive staples. “You just look really good for a man that just came back from the dead.” You said, a small smile curling at your lips. Jerome’s neurotic expression switched to a grin at your words, his pearly white teeth showing.

“Good answer.” He mutters before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. The hand that was in your hair tightened slightly as he deepened the kiss. It was an odd feeling; the chapped skin on his lips set a weird texture against yours and the stretched out smile made it somewhat difficult to kiss him, but you weren’t letting anything stop you from kissing your husband.

Once you broke away from the kiss, you took the opposite ring off your finger and held his left hand. His green eyes focused on yours before looking down and watching you push his wedding ring on his ring finger. “Aw, you kept it, gorgeous?” He cooed and his smile became wider as he talked. His thumb rotated the ring on his finger as he felt his body warm up at the thought of you wearing it while he was gone.

“Of course. Everything that you had I still kept.” You answer, moving your hands back on his chest. He had a police uniform on as the leather jacket hugged his arms. He always managed to look good in anything.

“Good, doll. I’m glad.” His right hand moved over to cup the side of your neck as his thumb rubbed gently against your cheekbone. His already made smile widened as his lips curled up into a grin. He leaned down and pecked your lips once, before whispering, “I told ya we would have some fun the last time I saw ya, gorgeous. And I intend to fulfill that promise.” He laughs and leans back down to kiss you with enough passion that could’ve made you melt.

Having Jerome back with you was like a fresh of cold air in a warm room. Having your husband back with you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You knew that the both of you had so much more ahead of you guys, and you couldn’t be more excited.

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Hey. Found you not so long ago but I’m already lovin it (pa ba ba pa baaaa I’m lovin it)

I was thinking about one plot for a long time. It’s TCOAAL request.

so the reader is male, kid from bad family. Well his only family was mother that abused him for quite awhile. Then, at the age of 15 he killed, dismembered and ate her before running away. (I took this idea from one concept metal album I’ve listened to recently).

Then he met graves siblings and they kinda became friends. it’s Ashley graves x male reader. again I like the stuff you do. Have a good day.☺️

Welcome to the blog dude, hope you enjoy your stay!

And bonding over mutilating and eating your shit mother’s corpse, how romantic <3

TW: Descriptions of bludgeoned corpses and cannibalism

Ashley Graves x Male Reader

Life on the run is….interesting

Trips to the store to buy food is always an anxiety induced endeavor of if the cops or store clerk recognize you as the kid of that one couple who went missing

That poor, poor couple

Such upstanding people of the community, a shame what happened to them

….a shame

You remember the night clearly. The taste of their blood. How it clung to your clothes and skin.

You sat before your parents….or….what was left of them. Things were never meant to go this far. You just- you just wanted to defend yourself! That’s all!

You didn’t expect to not stop after the first swing…

You had run off of the adrenaline of it all, the pure catharsis it gave you to watch your father crumple under the barrel of your metal bat. The way your mother’s face smashed in as you hit her over and over and over again. All the built up hate. All the built up rage coming back in full force.

Though, that feeling was gone. In its place was the reality of your situation. You had killed your parents, their blood on your hands and murder weapon. You couldn’t go to jail, you were just a kid! Nor would anyone believe it was self defense…your folks had always been such “great people”. No one would believe they’d hit their kid.

You knew one thing though, you had to get rid of the bodies. You couldn’t bury them, no- a police dog would dig that up right away. They’d rot if you hid them in the house…

….which left only one option.

You don’t regret killing your parents

You kind of regret eating them, that’s only because you did it shittily

There’s really no good way to prepare a corpse- and there was a lot so you tried them all

Maybe they were just that bitter of people

Or you just couldn’t cook

It’s probably both

But, it’s been 7 years and no one’s found out

The case on your parents went cold

So did yours

So really the only thing making you anxious to leave the motel room was getting caught

You’d been here for a while, the trash starting to pile up

It’s hard to tell if the stench was the shitty motel, or you.

You were going to take it out when- you paused..

Your blood ran cold as you watched through the blinds. A hooded person, face obscured from your view, coming towards your room. You internally said your prayers until….they made their way up the stairs to the room above you.

You let out a long sigh of relief, placing your hand over your heart to make sure it was still beating. It was- at far too fast of a pace though. But it was still beating nonetheless. Though, once the adrenaline rush from that scare passed you by….you realized something.

There were only two people staying in the room above you.

Your anxiety has led to you to be rather…observant- noting the pair of dark haired people when they arrived. They always left the room together, and not once did anyone else show up. And you had seen them rush out earlier….but never come back.

Now, this suspicious looking hooded figure that definitely didn’t have a knife in their hand could easily just be a friend…..but it just didn’t sit right with you.

Your eyes widened, staring out the blinds again as your neighbors made their way to the stairs. If your heart was pounding any faster it would burst. For a moment, you asked yourself-

Are you really going to risk your life for two strangers?

And you didn’t even have time to answer, as you already opened your door before you processed the question.

You had come out of your hobbit hole of a room, scream warnings up the stairs before the pair entered their room- seemingly stopped to discuss something

They blinked down at you with their unamused pink and green eyes, and you felt yourself shrivel under their stare

Green eyes began speaking to you- wanting you to go away and that they’ll handle whoever is in their room but Pink eyes stopped him

She thanked you, asked for your name, and that they’d love to just run away…but their stuff was in their room and they didn’t have the money to responsibly replace it all

But there was three of you, and only one burglar

You just needed a weapon

It hurt to grab your old bat…the one you foolishly kept since that night, but….you did

And you followed them into their room

You kept your footsteps light as you entered the room, it smelled of old furniture and the air was stale- much like your room when you had first arrived.

You looked at your neighbors, Ashley and Andrew they had introduced themselves as. Ashley walking in so casually before she loudly announced to Andrew, “Oh golly gee Andrew! What a great dinner. Let us grad our stuff post-haste and burn off those calories with a walk in the park!”

You and Andrew shared a look of confusion, to which Ashley grimaced at and continued on.

“I will be but a minute! Be ready…” her cherry blossom eyes stared daggers into your own, clearly referring to you.

You gulped, nodding as you readied your bat. Ashley guided you to where to stand, just to the side of the closet where you wouldn’t be obscured. She gave you a final glare as she moved to the other to safely open the door. Your hands shook as the grip tightened on your bat, nodding to let her know you were ready.

It was all a blur, the hooded figure bursting out with their knife in a stabbing motion. Before he could even process what was happening, you brought your bat down to the back of his head hard. He collapsed to the ground, not down- but that same rush from that night came back to you….and the next thing you knew they were mush on the floor.

Ashley and Andrew stared in bewilderment as you fell to your knees, bloodied bat slipping from your hands and you caught your breath. You were a monster. You knew it, and now they knew it.

But that didn’t seem to matter, as you felt a hand gently tilt your chin up to look up. Your fearful eyes staring into Ashley’s surprisingly calming gaze as she spoke,

“What did you say your name was again?…”

[artficlly]

the shadow (miniseries - part one)

Post Endgame Avengers AU miniseries - part one

avenger!bucky x widow!reader avenger!yelena x widow!reader (platonic)

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Reader is an ex-black widow sniper who escaped the Red Room with the help of Yelena and Natasha. After working as an illegal hired gun, Yelena recruits the reader to the team as a sniper. The reader is closed off, not wanting to form connections or friends with anyone. Though, as their shell begins to crack, they notice they have a lot in common with a certain Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: violence, death, wound descriptions, lots of blood and gore, mention of weapons, swearing, low self-esteem reader, mentions of past non-con, lots of angst. lmk if anything needs to be added.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: hi! this is a pretty angsty/gorey fic I've had in my brain for awhile now. i don't know if many people will vibe with this, so might just be written for my weird interests lol. i think this will be two, maybe three parts? I just wanted something a bit more intense to work on alongside face the music (which is a more wholesome college au multi chapter fic). I'm very interested in exploring the 'what if' side of what happens to all the widows once they escape. I am also a sucker for feminist readings/feminine rage so this is a fun outlet. I have some plans for more ex-widow content (maybe longer series) but i wanted to get this mini-series up as a sort of taster! there isn't a heap of bucky barnes content in this part, but oh boy, there is some coming in the next part!! not proof read - pls forgive any typos.

main masterlist

Many unexpected things had happened during your life, even before you were old enough to understand how unexpected they were. 

Firstly, you had been torn from your birth family at a young age. You never knew if your family had willingly given you up. You had heard tales of starving mothers, selling their children in order to survive. Other tales said that the mothers refused to sell their children. Though, a mothers love was not enough to sustain through the Russian winters. Those mothers died for the love of their children, but regardless their children were still taken by the Red Room. 

Others whispered that the women of the Red Room were specifically chosen for their genetics, hunted down and stolen. There was no regard for a mothers love, only the possibility of another weapon to create. 

Deep down you could hope that your mother had loved you. 

You would never know. 

The second unexpected thing to happen in your life was when you escaped. Much like the other Widows, you had spent most of your life under the control of men. You had been a weapon, faceless, deadly. You had survived the training that many didn’t and that was the only thing that made you of value. The discovery of a life beyond the Red Room? A life beyond what you had been crafted for? Freedom was more frightening than any mission or task you had undertaken. 

With the Red Room gone, thanks to Yelena Belova and Natalia Alianovna? You were purposeless. You were a small ship, lost at sea. You were a small ball of rock, hurtling through space, burning up and dying out. There was no reason for you to exist, there was no life for you. You were a killer, a monster. Why did you deserve peace? How could you ever find peace with all the blood on your hands? You were raised to be a killer, and a killer you were. 

In the Red Room you were The Shadow. A faceless sniper, one of the best in the world. You did your job, and you did it well. Even after you were freed, you continued to work as a sniper to find some meaning. You were good at disconnecting from your emotions. Taking the shot wasn’t one to sweat, you floated above your body and pulled that fucking trigger. 

The people who hired you didn't know your name. They didn’t see your face. You were a weapon and you would kill without question. A father, a mother, a child? It didn’t make a difference to you. It was just another target. Even if you were free from Dreykov, you were still the weapon he had built you to be. As much as you tried, as much as you fought, screamed and cried. You were a Widow, a faceless killer, a nobody, a Shadow. 

The third unexpected thing to happen in your life was Yelena Belova. She was a force, hurtling into your life. You had never expected it. You thought once she freed all the Widow's it would be over. She wouldn’t need to associate with her fellow Widows anymore. She was a hero, she made it big. She would become an Avenger like Natalia. Start over, fresh face, new name. Natalia, Natasha. She had been a hero, she had freed all of the Widows. You? You were a gun for hire, bottom of the barrel scum. 

Yet, there Yelena had stood, reaching out to pull you from the snake pit. 

You had been hired for an inside job, some drug deal with the potential to go very wrong. You were to keep watch, blow out the brains of their competitor if necessary. You didn’t think into the ethics, you just shot who you were told to shoot. You should’ve known Yelena would keep tabs on you, you should’ve known that day would come. Even if you were nameless and faceless, you were still a weapon. The world doesn’t just lose weapons, no, they either used them or prayed for their untimely death. 

The deal went messy, as anticipated. You went to shoot but a foot was on your rifle making you pause. 

“You’re getting sloppy, Shadow.” The blonde had tutted at you. “I have been standing here, for what? Two minutes? You didn’t even see me.” 

You didn’t know why her speaking Russian shocked you so much. You had spent so many years dealing with Americans and Europeans that you had slipped into the comfort of English too easily. You had just assumed that the world of superheroes had Americanised Yelena, like they had Natasha. But there she was, Yelena fucking Belova in the flesh. Your third unexpected thing. 

“Come to tell me off for being a bad girl, Belova?” You teased, hand subtly finding the knife at your thigh out of instinct. You doubted Yelena had come here to kill you, you had heard through the grapevine about her little mission. She had spent two years freeing Widows across the globe. Though, you couldn’t help but notice that Yelena was armed to the teeth. Knives and guns tucked into hidden pockets through her black suit. You had heard she had become an Avenger - well atleast what was left of the team. Stepping into Natasha's role, she wanted to do good so bad. You could never be that, a hero. You weren’t meant to be anything other than another man’s blade or bullet. 

After Steve Rogers death, the Avengers had spiraled for a time. Eventually, Sam Wilson had taken up the mantle. A few had followed, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, his protégé Kate Bishop as well as Yelena. You didn’t even know if they called themselves ‘The Avengers’ anymore, only that they acted like them. Seemed they were running off the left-overs of Stark’s money as well as government funding. You had heard rumors about Scott Lang or even Steven Strange still floating around. After Wanda Maximoff had gone near-insane, the world had turned a cruel eye on their heroes. Even if they had been the only ones to save them from The Blip. People - your people - they didn’t want to be classed as heroes anymore, but somehow they were still committed to ‘doing good’. 

“I could tell you off,” Yelena drawled, eyes following your every move. You were on your knees now, slowly rising from the lying position you had held. If Yelena was a predator, you were certainly her prey. Unfortunately for her, you were also a predator when cornered. Outside, you could hear gunshots overlapping each other, shouting and grunting. It hurt that it annoyed you, that Yelena would be inadvertently ruining your reputation. You always made the shot, always. Except this time. You supposed being held up by Yelena fucking Belova was a better excuse than missing your shot. No, now that would be embarrassing and reputation destroying. The Shadow missing a shot? Unheard of. 

“I want to offer you a job. Could be a one time thing, could be more. Pays better than whatever this is, and is certainly more legal than whatever this is.” Yelena continues her spiel. She had palmed a knife, waving it as she spoke for extra effect. It was a hunting knife, sharpened to perfection. You didn’t like to imagine how the serrated edge would feel cutting into your flesh. 

“Your jobs barely qualify as legal,” You snip back, carefully eyeing her movements. Was she signaling someone through the window? The glare of the sun against the blade would surely be visible outside. There could be an entire team outside waiting to take you down. Yelena could just be the distraction. Your hand tightens around the handle of your own knife, ready to pull it from its holster at the slightest indication of an ambush. 

“Everything is legal if you work for the right people,” Yelena cuts back, tilting her head as she observes you. Time was ticking, you knew this could go one of two ways. You really hoped it wouldn’t end with one of you bleeding out on the floor. You had respect for Yelena, for what she and Natasha had done. 

“What if I say no?” You ask, russian muffled through your mask. You always wore them on jobs, always. You were a faceless weapon, mixing your identity in would not help you shoot better. Yelena smirks at you, finger running down the blade of her knife. She looked so casual, leaning against the window sill without a care in the world. She was definitely better armed than you. Your ears strain, trying to hear if someone is climbing the stairs of the building. All you can hear is the scuffle of the deal downstairs in the alley. 

“The government is interested in you. They don’t have a name yet, just… a shadow of a person to look for. Ex-Widow, a hired gun. I can make it go away. I know powerful people.” You could see her teeth through her smirk as she spoke. It was a thinly veiled threat. Pull your shit together, you’ve drawn too much attention to yourself. No, this was the difference between you and Yelena. She had cared, she had become the hero she had needed. You had stayed the same monster, spiraled further into your own hatred and disgust. You had become the person people needed saving from. Yelena cared so much about every Widow that the idea of one slipping through the cracks? It would haunt her. She was warning you, giving you a way out. She wanted to help you. 

The shouting and gunshots outside had died down, now only the sound of several sirens approaching. Time was still ticking and you were running out.

“Make your choice quickly, Shadow. Make it wisely though, I really don’t want to kill you.” Yelena purred. You eyed her for a long moment, carefully getting to your feet. Despite her cold exterior, the way she tried to be intimidating… You could see the pleading in her eyes. She wanted you to come with her, she wanted to help you. But you couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved saving? 

So many years, so many dead bodies. The only thing that kept you going was your strength, your reluctance to die. But after so many years of running, so many years of being alone… was there a reason to keep fighting? That sickness, it clawed away in your brain. You didn’t deserve saving. 

The sirens drew nearer. Reluctantly, you spoke. Even if that sickness was strong, your stubbornness and desire to breathe was stronger. You would live out of spite. You would live just to spit in the faces of those who wanted you dead. If you were going to die, it would be on your own terms. 

“Who am I shooting?” You ask, reaching out your gloved hand for Yelena to shake. Yelena must feel some kind of relief, you see her shoulders droop every-so-slightly as she shakes your hand.

“That list seems to be endless these days.” She replies with a grin. 

—

The small rural town was desolate. A ghost town, Yelena had said. A ghost town that had become infested with vermin.

Remnants of society still remained. You could imagine the ghosts of people passing by as you navigated through the landscape. A cracked concrete road, overgrown with weeds. The apartment buildings with their windows smashed out, graffiti scrawled across crumbling stone. Billboards years out of date, forgotten band-posters peeling off walls and lampposts. You couldn’t say who once lived here - but whoever they were, they were most certainly gone or dead. 

You were positioned on the second-floor of a disintegrating school house. The building itself was several stories higher but you had taken one look at the unstable staircase and thought better of it. Ripped, stained curtains blew lightly in the wind, at the front of the room a cracked blackboard still had the date July 17th, 1994 scrawled across it. 

You were in your usual working gear. Your suit was tight and flexible for ease of movement, adorned with pads on the knees, elbows and shoulders. Your hands were clothed with fingerless gloves and most importantly you wore your mask. A belt holds a handgun, lower down some straps across your thighs hold knives and pockets for convenience. They were for if things got messy, your real weapon was tossed over your back - a duffle bag with your sniper rifle inside.  

Broken glass crunched under your combat boots as you cautiously approached the window. The building you had chosen was strategic. Across from you was an old office building, just as run down as the one you stood in. Unlike the school house, the old office housed a group of criminals. 

Sam Wilson had insisted that he didn’t want to kill them, that he just wanted to talk to them. He wanted to talk them down and tell them to surrender peacefully. If things turned messy, he would give you the signal and you would shoot. The two groups would be standing in the concrete courtyard between the two buildings. At the slightest chance of danger, the slightest chance they weren’t ready to surrender? You would pull the trigger and pop their leader's skull open. 

Sam Wilson and his crew hadn’t been happy to see you when Yelena had brought you to the aircraft for transport. He had taken one look at you, masked, all in black and imploded. 

“Yelena, who the hell is this?” Sam had snapped. Yelena had just laughed at him, motioning for you to sit and buckle in next to her on the aircraft. 

“You told me to get a sniper!” 

It seemed when Sam Wilson had asked for a sniper, he hadn’t asked for you. Ex-widow, criminal, The Shadow. When Yelena had introduced you with your alias, Kate Bishop had gaped at you. Bucky Barnes was tense, you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t recognised your name. Clint Barton seemed neutral, you supposed he was used to dealing with deadly women. 

You found it ironic how upset Sam Wilson was. He had helped Steve Rogers save Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier. You supposed the difference was that Barnes had tried to change when he was freed. Despite the mind control, the torture… he wanted to do good. You were just damaged beyond repair. Sitting there, with those heroes? It made you feel sick. Playing dress up, that’s all it was. 

You had over 700 confirmed kills with your rifle, even more kills if you counted other weapons at your disposal. You were an assassin, a hitwoman, a fucking menace. Bucky Barnes would have more total kills than you, but he had stopped killing. He had felt remorse. You had kept killing, kept digging that hole because it was all you knew how to do. He had been a normal boy before the war. You were a killing machine, a girl robbed of a childhood. If you hadn’t been freed, would have even known about the childhood you had missed? You didn’t remember your mother, nor if you had any siblings. All you had known was cruelty. 

Brushing some of the broken glass away with your foot, you began setting up your rifle. Through the ear-piece you could hear the chatter of the rest of the team as they headed to their spot. You had gone ahead to set up, they were about 20 minutes away from the school house. Gun at the ready, you lay down on your stomach, eye to the scope. 

“In position, over.” You mutter into the ear piece. 

“Copy that, over.” Sam Wilson replied quickly.

You settled into your spot, watching the building ahead. You were a good sniper not only because of your ability to disconnect, but also because of your levels of patience. You had spent days in this exact position, waiting, sweating for your chance at a target. 

By the time the others were in position, you had counted every window in the building across from you. 25 per story, making it 125 all together for all 5 stories. There was movement on the bottom floor and the second. You assumed they didn’t go any higher due to the same reason as you - a crumbling staircase. Each window had blue curtains - different to the beige ones in your room. Nearly all the windows were smashed, except for on the top story that seemed to remain relatively untouched. 

Through the ear-piece you could hear what Sam was saying. Both groups stood in the center of the courtyard, hands on their undrawn weapons. The new generation of Avengers were outnumbered 5 to 1. The tenison was clear, even as Sam tried joking around with the opposing leader. Everything was going smoothly, exactly as planned. That was, until you saw a glint in one of the third story windows. 

You thought you imagined it at first - a trick of the eye. But then you saw it again, and then a third time. There was another sniper, trained directly on Sam Wilson. You didn’t feel stressed by this, it was just another complication in a high-tension mission. It made sense, you had anticipated that maybe your targets would be smart enough to bring a sniper to this ‘talk’. The other sniper was up slightly higher than you - you wouldn’t be able to get a good hit on him unless you went up another couple stories. 

“There’s a sniper, third story. Sixth window to the left.” You breathed into the comms, fully knowing the rest of the team wouldn’t be able to verbally respond. If the opposing side got any indication that you were up there? Game over. They would signal their sniper to take the shot on Sam. It would take hours to pick bits of his skull out of their clothes and hair. 

“I need to change positions to get a better look, keep him talking.” You continue. Slowly, you roll away from the window and drag your gun with you. You needed to keep to the shadows, become a shadow literally. If the sniper spotted you it would be over. 

With a quiet grunt, you pull the gun from the room. Pressing your back against the hallway wall, you quickly rise to your feet and head towards the staircase with a huff. Sam was still rambling on about peaceful surrender over the comms ear-piece, stalling until you could get a better look at the sniper. 

The stairs wobbled and shook as you moved up them quickly and quietly as possible. You could hear chunks of wood and stone crumbling from beneath and falling with each step you took. Opting for the 4th story, you quickly set up in position by a new window. Same torn, beige curtains and shattered glass across the floor.

From this position you had a better look into the third story windows. Looking down, you could see the outline of a body laid flat with the rifle, much like your own position. Due to the broken windows and ripped curtains, you had a fairly clear shot at the figures head as they trained all their focus on what was happening below. 

“I’m going to shoot the sniper first, he has a shot on you Wilson. I’ll still have a clear shot on the target, just might take a moment.” You explain. They don’t reply, as expected. The situation below seems to be growing tense, you can hear the tone of the target's voice growing more aggressive by the second. Lining up your shot on the sniper, you hold your breath. Sam says the signal word. 

You pull the trigger. 

As the shot rings out, the men below scatter. You can hear the rest of the team screaming at you through your ear-piece. It all gets jumbled up, just white noise in your brain as you line up your next shot. This was why you usually worked alone. You didn’t crack under pressure in a situation like this, but having screaming ringing in your ear was bringing you damn near to it. You can’t be bothered listening to what they are yelling about. You didn’t need them telling you that your target was seconds away from escaping your bullet. Didn’t they know you never missed? 

The target was a few feet away from the safety of the building. Chunks of flesh, skull and brains explode across the cracked concrete as you pull the trigger once more. Through the scope, you watch the body slump to the ground, a pool of blood quickly spreading around the corpse. 

“Holy shit!” You hear Kate yell through the ear-piece. You don’t know if she’s complementing your shot or reacting to the spray of blood up the side of the opposite building. The last of the men who scattered stepped over the body, disappearing into the office building. 

“There's another headed for the sniper rifle, Shadow!” Yelena shouts at you through comms. Her and Clint have breached the office, you can see the shape of them fighting through the broken windows. 

“Got it,” You mutter back. You cast a glance at where Sam and Bucky were fighting out in the open. Bucky seems swarmed, trying to shake a man who has wrapped his arms around his throat. You make a silent note of it, casting your scope back to the third story window. The figure that rushes to replace the dead man is quickly taken out by your rifle. He doesn't even get a chance to touch the rifle before his blood paints the wall behind him. 

No one else makes a dash for the sniper rifle. You turn your gaze back to the courtyard, noticing that Bucky is still swarmed by several men. Sam has been pulled too far away from him to help. You can’t see Kate anymore, but from the yelling coming through the comms she is inside the office with Clint and Yelena. 

One of the opposers has picked up a hand-gun and is pointing it squarely at Bucky’s chest as he struggles to get out of the grip of the other men holding him down. Sam barrels towards them, but you know he won’t make it in time. You huff out a sigh, lining up the dangerous shot. You knew if this bullet was at the slight wrong angle it could ricochet directly into Bucky’s chest. 

Is this why Yelena hired you? Because you would make dangerous shots without permission, without regard for human life? Bucky was a super soldier, he could probably survive several gunshot wounds (provided they weren’t directly to the head). Maybe if you cared you would’ve been nervous. Maybe you would’ve hesitated, let your hands shake and sweat. But you don’t care. You disconnect from everything, the shouting through the comms, the sounds of gunshots, the feeling of metal against your skin. You’re not in your body, you are floating above yourself watching the auto-pilot take over. 

You squeeze the trigger. The hand-gun clatters to the ground alongside the attacker. Blood is slick against the paved stones. Through your scope, you swear it has splattered across Bucky’s gruff face. The men attacking Bucky stutter for a moment, giving him the opportunity to shake them off and pummel them with his metal fist. 

He doesn’t even acknowledge what you did.

He doesn’t even say thank you. 

—

One job turned into two. Then two turned into a few more. 

Six months you had been working with Yelena and her crew of disgraced Avengers. You weren't their friends. You didn’t celebrate after missions with them. You kept to yourself, cold and distant. They didn’t know your real name, they hadn’t even seen your face. Yelena would give you a call, pick you up, you would complete the mission, then you would return home. 

You were The Shadow. 

You weren’t a hero. 

Kate and Yelena tried to crack your shell. It usually involved joking and parading around you. All it would earn them was a roll of the eyes and a quiet sigh. Over the comms though, sometimes you would make quiet digs and quips. Clint would roar with laughter, Sam just muttering that he was surprised you had a personality under that mask. 

The mask. Oh, they hated it. 

They were all determined to see beneath it. They made up jokes, stories as to why you wore it. That you were hideously ugly, or scarred beyond human recognition. Bucky seemed to be the only one who understood. He was the only one who was equally as cold to you as you were to him. Your exchanges were brief, usually a series of single words and grunts. It was a relief having someone not trying for your affection at all times. 

Once again, you and your deadly skills were needed for a mission. Another one of Sam’s ‘discussions’ which usually ended with brains splattered across the floor. This time you were in a lightly forested clearing, somewhere in the Estonian wilderness. You were set up in the tree line, laying in a mixture of mud and dead leaves. 

The countryside was peaceful, but gray. Winter was setting in, leaves falling from the birch trees. Their pale trunks were pale against the gray sky that threatened to spill. The breeze was cool, not as cold as Russia had been. No, a Russian winter could be deadly especially the further north you got. You remembered the snow, the discomfort of the cold leaking into your bones. You hadn’t been allowed to complain then, only soldier on. 

“You in position, Shadow?” Yelena asked through the comms. You could see her lips moving through the scope as the group headed towards the designated meeting point. 

“Affirmative. Over.” You state, pushing the ear-piece in a bit further as you settle closer to the cold earth. Relaxing your shoulders with a sharp breath, you surveyed the area through your scope. 

A small group of men had come to meet the team. There were less men than you had anticipated, if a fight ensued it would be one on one. You didn’t like the opponents odds, they looked scruffy, only armed with low-caliber weapons. Definitely not the type to take on a group of superheroes and super soldiers. 

You felt dread sink into your stomach. Something… felt wrong here. Your target reportedly had tons of men at his disposal. It was deep into the Italian mafia, and if they had anything, it was an abundance of men. Where were they all? Was this an ambush? Were they hidden in the brush like you? You could take down a few targets, but you would be more successful with your knives and fists against a small army. Your mind races, along with your gaze as you try to piece it all together. 

“There is something wrong.” You speak into the comms, eyes flickering between Sam and the target as they stood in front of each other. You had done plenty of jobs with the group, all had gone smoothly. But something… something was terribly off here. You could feel it in your gut. The targets men looked antsy, shifting in place. They knew something. They were anticipating something. 

“There’s not enough men. I can’t spot them anywhere in the treelines. Either he’s stupid or this is a set-up.” You ramble into the ear-piece. They can’t respond to you, but you can tell they’re paying attention to your warning. Yelena’s eyes sweep the area, trying to spot more men hidden away somewhere. 

Then, from behind you, you hear the snap of a twig. You spin around, hand flying to your knife. Across from you stand a group of men, armed with shotguns. They’re close, closer than you had realized. You had been too busy trying to figure out where all the men were, trying to anticipate the ambush. You hadn’t realized their ambush was against you. 

This was why you didn’t make friends. Connections. You were too busy worrying about them to realize the immediate danger you were in. The butt of a shotgun cracks against the side of your head. 

Everything goes black. 

—

The mud was cold underneath you, biting into your skin. Your hands were tied, and throughout the intermittent black-outs you recalled being dragged through the dead leaves. You must have been stripped of your weapons, you couldn’t feel the metal of your knives and gun digging in anymore. 

You were bleeding from a head wound, and you were definitely suffering from some kind of concussion. You had touched that throbbing spot with your fingers, rubbing the slick feeling of blood between them. Even through the fabric of your mask, you could feel the sticky blood had spread down the side of your face and neck. A gun was pressed to the back of your skull.

How many men had there been? Had you had a chance to count before you were struck? Had you managed to warn the others before the ear-piece was shattered by the strike? You could still feel bits of plastic and metal digging into your ear along with a high-pitched ringing. You weren’t sure if the ringing was from the ear-piece or from the hit you had received. 

“You really thought I would stand in the open like this? Like a fool?” Your target joked, his Italian accent thick as he laughed heartily. You were kneeling next to him, eyes warily looking between him and the rest of your group who stood across from you. Sam and Bucky looked less than pleased, lips pressed together in tight lines. 

“Rumors have been all through the underground, The Avengers somehow managed to recruit The Shadow?” He continues, still laughing. “Only an idiot would put himself in the open. Taking a chance with The Shadow is asking to have your skull blown open. I am no fool, but maybe you are? Thinking that I would fall for your trick?” 

You can see Yelena trying to keep her cold face on, the one she had given you when she recruited you. It may have fooled the opposition, but you could see the concern in her eyes. She surveyed the mountain of men behind you like she was looking at her next meal. The barrel of the gun pressed harder against the back of your skull.

“We didn’t come here to kill you, we came here to negotiate your peaceful surrender.” Sam spoke up, voice gruff and cold. Behind him, you watched Clint’s fingers ghost over the string of his bow.

“Surrender? Why do you bring a sniper to a peaceful negotiation?” The Italian purred, motioning at you with one hand. His fingers were lined with gold rings, they caught the sunlight through the clouds. He had a gun tucked into his belt, a knife holstered on his hip. 

“You know why. Things get messy. Now, we can still negotiate. You let her go and you hand over your weapons. You will be arrested unharmed, along with all of your men. You’ll face a fair trial for your crimes, a chance at a fresh start.” Sam explained. You could practically hear the target losing interest during Sam’s spiel. You watched him fidget impatiently with those golden rings, the way his men shifted uncomfortably behind you. 

“No no.” Your target chuckled, running his fingers over his bushy black mustache. With the swish of his hand, he dismissed the man holding the gun to your head. His hands then found the back of your neck, tugging you to your feet. Fingers under your chin, he forces you to look into his eyes. “Why would I let her go? I didn’t come here to play games with you, Wilson. I came here because I wanted her. Because I knew she would be here.” 

You resisted a flinch as his fingers dug into the skin of your neck, slipping it under the fabric of your mask. With one tug, he pulled the fabric from your face. This had not been the way you had expected this to happen, the way you would reveal your face to the team. You didn’t want them to feel some kind of connection to you, or any kind of guilt if this ended with a bullet in your skull. 

If you had been able to look, you would’ve seen their shocked faces. How they quickly turned to rage on your behalf. You would’ve seen how Bucky’s eyes darted between looking at you and the ground, like he was witnessing something forbidden. 

You imagined you were a sight, blood smeared across your skin from the head wound. Your hair had been perfectly woven into a crown braid, just like how they taught you in the Red Room. It would be lopsided now, chunks pulled out of place and flyaways from being roughly tugged across the ground. That and the layers of mud caked into your clothing. 

“You know, Dreykov would sometimes leant out Widows to important men like me. You were all so beautiful and you all did exactly what you were told. Made to deliver pleasure. So many men, they would ask for you. To get a glimpse at the mysterious Shadow of the Red Room. Dreykov would never let us have you… 

We would wonder if it was because you were hideously ugly? If you had been scarred like his dear Antonia? But looking at you now, you are as beautiful as I imagined. I can’t help but wonder if Dreykov wanted to keep you for himself? He always said you had too much bite for your worth.”

Gaze still cast at the Italian, you don’t see the team's reaction to this. You wouldn't have seen  Yelena's composure slip, how Sam clenched his fist in rage. Instead you stared, silent fury boiling beneath your skin. 

“I wonder how it will feel to break you?” The target hissed. He watched as your blank expression slowly turned into a sneer. Without much thought, you spit a mixture of saliva and blood into his face with a ragged laugh. 

His face contorted in rage, reaching for the gun in his belt. You don’t dodge, willingly letting him strike you across the face with the metal. You stumble backwards, falling to your knees in the mud. Your lip is definitely split, blood dripping to the ground below you. You’re still laughing though, much to the collective horror of everyone. Sam opens his mouth to speak, to demand your release but you cut him off. 

“You men, you are so emotional. You’re so busy pulling out your cock to piss all over everything that you don’t see the small details.” You seeth at the target. He stares at you in shock, completely oblivious to what you have done. What you are about to do. His men, even your group don’t anticipate what is to come next. 

“What are the smaller details?” The target asks, you can sense misguided amusement in his tone.

You don’t reply. He doesn’t have a chance against you. You had already slipped out of your binds. He was so caught up trying to strike you, trying to prove himself a big and scary man, he hadn’t felt it. Your nimble fingers had wrapped around the knife on his hip, he hadn’t noticed how you had ripped it from its holster as you fell backwards. 

The Italian doesn’t get a chance to take another breath before you snap forwards, striking like a snake. You dig the blade into his thigh, purposefully nicking his artery. Blood gushes from the wound the moment you pull the blade back out.  

Things seem to move in slow motion - you see him react - eyes opening in horror and shock as he stumbles back. You are still on your knees, a feral smirk across your face. His gun lifts, intending to shoot but he is too late. Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you pull the gun to the side just as he pulls the trigger. 

The bang deafens you for a moment, ears ringing. The bullet grazes your ear, then lands directly into the stomach of one of his men behind you. The man wails, falling backwards, knocking a few more of the men off their feet in the process. You move quickly, using your body weight to twist the target's arms, flipping him onto his side into the mud. 

The gun falls to the earth with a thud. Your target doesn’t even get a glance at it before you’ve kicked it away in Sam’s direction. The Italian man groans on his back as he bleeds out. You get to your feet, ignoring the panicked shouts from his men beside you as you observe him. 

“You’re bleeding out from your femoral artery.” You explain to him roughly, tilting your head. His hair is thick, black and greasy. A sheen of sweat has come over his pale skin, eyes glazed over. 

“On average it takes two to five minutes to bleed to death from that artery. That’s if you don’t fall unconscious first. Let’s count, shall we? You spent…around thirty seconds swinging that gun around…another thirty listening to me talk…” You drawl. 

Stepping closer, you crouch next to his shivering body. He is trying to stop the bleeding, pressing shaking hands to the open wound. Blood has already begun to pool around him, ruby red and slick. You tut, pushing his hands away with the knife to watch the blood spurt out faster. 

“You have, what? A couple minutes left? Now tell me, before you slip away… When you see God, what will you tell him?” You ask, a feral expression still across your face as you watch his skin grow gray. 

“You fucking bitch!” Your target manages to choke out. You laugh, standing and swinging the knife around. 

“Oho, I don’t think he’ll like that.” You say. An almost animalistic growl leaves your throat as you raise your foot, kicking him squarely in the nose with your boot. He cries out, bone crunching. For a moment you stand there, watching the sniveling man. 

With a sniff, you run your hand roughly over your cheek, wiping some of the blood from your skin. Then, your gaze falls on the group of men left. They are watching you in silent horror. You can’t imagine what you look like, covered in blood and mud, armed with only a hunting knife. You assess them with a predator's gaze, menacing and bloodthirsty and the men cower back despite being armed with guns. 

“We don’t want any trouble.” One stutters out. 

For a moment, you forget the rest of your team are feet away. You consider letting the wrath consume you. You could tear these men apart with your hands, teeth and nails. You imagine plucking out their eyes, teaching them what happens to men who see your face. 

“Shadow.” Yelena calls you. Your eyes snap to hers. 

Pulled from your trance, you run a tongue over your split lip. The act is near animalistic, a cat tending its wounds. Then, with a shrug sent in Sam’s direction you stalk over to Yelena. Sam, to his credit, quickly composes himself and instructs the group of men to drop their weapons and line up. 

“Are you alright?” Yelena asks as you pause in front of her. You don’t feel like answering that question right now. 

If it weren’t for the cold wrath that had taken over your body, you would imagine you would be shaking. Men like that made your skin crawl, made you revert back to how you had felt in the Red Room. It made you sick to your stomach, knowing that despite everything men like that still existed. You would kill one man and another would grow in his place. You had been lucky to escape. That no matter what, there would always be more places like the Red Room. Even if they weren’t to breed killers and spies, they would still use the bodies of women. Powerful men would use their authority to control innocent girls for the rest of time. Those girls couldn't all be saved. They wouldn’t be saved. 

“I need to retrieve my gun.” You reply thickly, nodding your head in the direction of the treeline. Your knives and other gear would have also been abandoned nearby, that’s if the men hadn’t pocketed it for themselves. 

“Go ahead.” Yelena says, thankfully not pressing you on your emotional state. She seems to sense your unease and your unwillingness to hang around. You pass by her and a gaping Kate. You needed to clear your head before you faced the rest of them. With the mask, you could hide your emotions. Now, without it, you felt exposed. You wouldn’t let them see you crack. They would have been trained to sense the slightest change in your facial expressions, to be able to interpret exactly how you were feeling. 

“Shadow?” Yelena calls, you glance over your shoulder reluctantly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Nice to finally see you. The real you.” She says, a subtle grin tugging at her lips. 

All you can do is hum in response. Though, as you trudge towards the tree line, a small smile forms over your bloodied face. 

PART TWO

[melyzard]

Yo, so, I come from reddit because I saw your tumblr post posted on reddit where you described how you were born when your mother was laughing hysterically when your father came back from work confused because his uniform was just disintegrating because in a fit of rage a few days before that she ripped a lot of the stitches from his uniform and I wanted to know how is your parents relationship. Are they still together? How did your father take it?

Reddit? Oh crap, it's escaped containment again....

Okay so I will say right up front for those that always say "this is a story about abuse!" that this was not abuse because it happened ONCE, my mom apologized and never did it again, and also my father never paid for that uniform in the first place and didn't pay for a replacement (and also, it was work clothes, not something he loved and treasured, so). It was a ridiculous, silly situation between two frustrated twenty-year-olds, and as far as I've ever heard, not only did he also laugh really hard, even while hustling my mom to the hospital to, you know, give birth, but he told that story to anyone who would listen. He was a pretty big prankster in his own right, and that my mom got one over on him in such a major way delighted him.

Unfortunately, he died awhile back in an accident, so no, they aren't together still, but everything I saw or heard about them together indicates they had a really good relationship. And my mom still tells that story whenever she gets really irate about something (in a very Watch Out, Your Clothes Might Disintegrate kind of way). So while it's not a happy ending necessarily, it's still a pretty good memory.

[xxsmilingdeerxx]

Dear Alastor(not a pun),

Greetings it's umm...it's me again, it's Stalks-In-Shadows. It's been awhile since you last saw me so I understand if you would forget...I'm not exactly "important" but...

I've been feeling down in the dumps lately...seeing you get to be reunited with your mother was so heart-warming, even down in Hell, and I'm very happy for you both...it just...brought back some sad memories of my own "Family". We weren't by blood. If I remember correctly, a smart man once said "Sometimes the family you CHOOSE is greater". In life, we were thicker than thieves...and...I've unfortunately yet to find any of them down here in Hell...and seeing as I've been here for...a long time...I don't think it's unfair to assume I'm never going to see them again.

So...I'd like to ask...how did you handle being separated from your mother for so long? How did you cope...I know your smile is...a part of it at least. But, did you grieve, in the sense of knowing you would most likely be permanently separated? Or did you just...sweep it under the rug.

I could...really use an ally right now...something that's rare to come by down here, unless it's with strings attached. When you receive this letter, as usual, I'll be in Cannibal Town if you wish to check up on me...Rosie has been kind enough to let me work at her emporium despite not being a cannibal...you'll probably find me there.

If you want to talk...and I understand if you don't...I'll make some tea. Rosie already told me your favorite.

--Best Regards, Stalks-In-Shadows

...he looks away his ears beginning to go down. “When i lost my mother..”

“I was beyond devastated. I was furious. Mad at everything and everyone. People say i handle emotions well..that’s because i left all my emotions in the land of the living..”

“I killed so many innocent people. First to try and quench my rage and sorrow. But then, i started doing it for fun.” he sighed “it lead me into a spiral. What would mom think? Was a question that frequently came into my mind. But i never stopped. I found sick pleasure in taking lives from people. It was all out of spite toward god. Taking lives from him like he took my mother from me.” he said bluntly

“Until he had enough. And killed me as well. Though i am not mad about dying anymore. I feel like i belong here in hell. I have my own family here...including my mother. I truly own my role down here..”

[socheckitout-mikey]

ayy!! could you do headcanons for the lost boys dating a bilingual reader? -particularly french+english, though any languages will do fine! <33333-

hey ofc i can! i decided to leave the languages blank so it can apply to any. so sorry this took me forever to write and post. i suck at posting regularly and had a bad case of writers block for awhile. nevertheless hope this is something you will enjoy reading! tysm for requesting this, it was fun to write. <33 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

TLB's Dating a Bilingual S/o Hc's:

David:

° I believe David to be the type of creature of the night that appreciates you being bilingual. Where it isn’t uncommon, it shows that you hold a certain level of intelligence that he’s all for! You’ll probably be surprised to find that he knows a little bit of your mother tongue. Not a whole lot, but basic phrases, and he picks it up quickly if you teach him a little bit every once in a while.

° “What? Cat got your tongue all of a second, prince/princess? I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than you realise.”

° He discovers a pleasant feeling when he listens to you speak in your native language: Whether that’s from helping a random stranger on the street with directions or hearing you speak to family on the phone. It doesn’t matter. An invocation of being soothed overtakes him. He could honestly listen to you for hours, but he may not exactly admit it as willingly as others.

° So perhaps he’ll spend a languid evening with you sprawled out on a blanket on top of one of the beach front stores. There’s a bottle of wine by your feet as you read from a book under the convenient nearby streetlight. A moth darts into its bright halo whilst David religiously smokes his tenth cigarette of the hour. It’s not due to stress, but aids him in focusing on the more intricate details of how you pronounce things: Albeit quietly, David doesn’t mind, because his sensitive hearing can pick up the tiniest thing from afar – even in a raging crowd. He’s enamoured, and decides to himself in that moment that he’s more than content.

° Your voice has turned a little hoarse as you close on the last word of the chapter. The hubbub down below is somehow peaceful. David doesn’t even look at you when he casts his words out on powdery smoke, “That was good, kitten.”

° If you’re lucky, you may even catch him reading something to you. Although it will most likely be in English, David is feeling charitable. So pull up to one of the dusty worn out couches in the cave, pop your head on a cushion in his lap and be prepared to be lulled into the most lusciously deep slumber you’ve ever been sent off into. David puts your parents to shame.

° He appreciates this part of you: The ability to share knowledge and language is important. Whether your mother tongue is English or not, it does not matter. David will enjoy this aspect of you.

Dwayne:

° Out of all of his brothers, Dwayne is probably the most respectable besides David. Where he’s cheeky and does want to know all of the swear words, they're not first on his list. He's not outwardly vocal about you speaking in another tongue. So you probably won't notice the way that the corner of his mouth lifts up whenever he catches you walking on the Boardwalk with your sibling tag along, the two of you bickering with words he's not certain of.

° Frankly Dwayne is convinced that more of your personality comes out when you speak in your first language. He gets lost in the way that you talk when you're standing there ordering hotdogs to the vendor of the stand who speaks the other language you do. Cannot help but grin when you turn around to confirm with him what you said was okay.

° "Whatever you said is probably right." Short and to the point, but he savours that little moment with a grin.

° Sometimes you speak a mixture of both languages at once. A translation error in your head or it's because that's what your friends do. It's habitual. It's adorable – unless you're having an argument with Dwayne, which is usually one sided since he's so chill. "Wanna try that again? I only caught the first word." Better to admit the truth than not, am I right?

° Dwayne does pick up phrases here and there. He listens more than anything and tries it out once or twice. He gets good at it too and blows you away with filling in a couple of sentences when you're translating a friend's words for him. You just stare at him dumbfounded and all he can do is breathily laugh.

° He also loves to immerse himself in your culture. He's willing to give almost anything a try. He isn't picky. Especially when it comes to food. He's not going to judge as harshly as someone like Paul may do by accident from cracking jokes. Dwayne wants to learn more about the cultures that you grew up with or went to explore throughout your life. It gives him the chance to understand you better.

° So you best believe that if there's a local shop or market that's still open during the late evening, he's going in there to pick up a few things, especially your favourite snack. Food bridges people together right? He likes some things, and others he doesn't. But he makes sure your favs always magically appear when you need them the most.

Marko:

° Marko is the second most likely to want to learn all of the swear words and rude remarks in your language. He finds it rather cute if you start to get embarrassed about sharing such statements. "Why? It's not like anything you'll say is something I haven't heard before. I've got Paul as my right hand man, remember?" He grins.

"Marko, it will be because it's in another language…" You remind him.

"Fair point!"

° Marko's the type that desires learning the language fully to impress you. That is until he quickly comes to the conclusion that he's out of his depth entirely. None of it makes sense to him, which is an obvious no brainer. Instead he settles for small words and phrases like; "I love you". Just whatever you do, don't let the boys know of this. They'll never let him live it down. Marko can be quite loving when it's just you two.

° Best believe that he's cussing people out who make him mad with the swear words he managed to get out of you. It provokes a humorous note when the lucky individual spits back something in the same language that Marko doesn't know. Cue him turning to you, "What did he say? Is he making fun of me?!"

"Yes Marko, he is."

"Listen here toe rag-,"

° Marko's also another of the boy's to bond over food, especially if it is something that comforts you. Where he's not prepared to try everything twice, he's not going to be an ass about it. Probably starts somewhere simple like a restaurant that he's taken you to. He's lost staring at the menu, adamant he can do this on his own. You sit there looking at him with amusement. "I don't need help!" He snaps, burying his nose into the menu further.

° He needed help.

° Whenever Marko comes to your window just after sundown uninvited, he settles himself into your room. You're already expecting him, his predators prowl unphasing now. He flops onto the bed beside you, belly first, softly nipping your shoulder whilst you flick through magazines. You roll your eyes, knowing he's in search of a snack; thankfully not a human one. When you go, he remains, listening to you softly chattering away to your parents in your mother tongue. The chorus of laughter from you is perfect. He will never admit this to you though.

° Where Marko isn't adverse to you reading to him, he quickly falls asleep before he can appreciate much of your accent and storytelling skills. It's not that it's boring or anything. It does make him dream though! It's so weird being a vampire and having a nap during the night. The things you do to him.

Paul:

° It is no surprise that Paul is the first person who wants to know all of the swear words and rude remarks. I think we all saw this one coming. He gets them out of you one way or another. The sneaky little bat! They become his new obsession for the next two weeks and even the other boys are done with it all. Poor David, Dwayne and Marko.

° On a serious note, Paul may not have the brain capacity to really learn a whole lot of your language, but he has so much enthusiasm for it. That's not to say he's stupid, it's just that he gets so excited. "How do you say this?" 

"How do you say that?"

So many questions tumble from his perfect mouth that you're prepared to kiss him to shut him up. Your throat has never been so hoarse from talking so much!

° It's heartwarming when he fumbles over syllables and how to say things in a statement. Adorable when you catch him whispering it to himself when he thinks you're not listening. Even when you catch him out in the act, Paul is shameless. A wide toothy grin spreads across his face and he cracks a joke.

° He is the number one guy out of the group who thinks you sound so hot speaking in your mother tongue. Forget about sounding intelligent and mature! Paul's found another way to fall in love with you deeper and he's swooning. Practically sighs and short circuits, especially when you're angry. You could be in a full blown argument with him, screaming on both ends and you yell out something in your mother tongue because you're just so infuriated. He stops, his face clouded with a look you know all too well and a part of you wants to sock him right now.

° "I have no idea what you just said, but hubba hubba! Lay it on me again, baby! I gotta hear it a second time." I mean, he's practically drooling!

° You've never walked away from him so goddamn fast. You can't get rid of him. He's attached. A full on package you both love and hate right now.

° Paul is good natured and likes to brag about how amazing you are. It can be a bit embarrassing, but he truly means the best. "Yo man! Did I mention yn totally schooled this guy the other day-," 

"Yeah, four hundred times, Paul. Now can I go back to my meal?" David asks, his face dripping with rivers of blood, his victim still in his arms.

"Man, she totally told him where to go! It was sooo cool-," Paul gushes as if he hasn't heard a single thing, his victim trying to crawl away.

"Dude, so not cool! We're tryna hunt here-," Marko groans.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more! 

requests: closed!

[victorckk]

HELLOWTROLLS FANDOM I HAVE CONVERTED TO TROLLSISM

ANYWAYYYY my Trolls OCs since I finally figured out designs for them. YouTube links are also being wonky so most of the links are to Spotify 💀

First up is Momentune.

His voice claim is Zach Callison.

He’s the manager of Mount Rageous. His mother was a Siren,, or a species similar to one? And his father was a Rageon. Not sure how it worked out, but it worked out. His mother is also who he inherited the extra eye from.

He went into the music business once he was old enough, while his parents were still the managers of Mount Rageous. He ended up developing a stage persona known as Miss Friction (doodle on the right). It didn’t last long though, since his parents decided to travel the world and left Momentune to run the place.

A few months before the pop star twins Velvet and Veneer became celebrities, Momentune had come across Citrine, a Troll who traveled away from her tribe and was looking to settle down somewhere. Momentune agreed to take Citrine under his wing and they grew close, with Citrine eventually becoming co-manager of Mount Rageous.

They had their suspicions of Velvet and Veneer being sneaky, but never had any proof as Velvet and Veneer always hid Floyd before Momentune investigated them. Momentune and Citrine weren’t arrested or charged solely because they found no visible evidence at the time before the twin’s arrest.

Momentune’s dancing style is similar to that of Waacking (SU fans I know this is gonna summon y’all hello).

Speaking of SU, that’s a reason I chose Zach Callison as Momentune’s voice claim. While Callison’s singing can be quite intense, he can also sing so softly and it’s so relaxing. Only example I can think of at the moment where it’s relaxing is this.

His stage persona was inspired by drag, as the era he’s based off of was when modern drag was considered to have grown more popular. Mainly in New York.

He’s actually FTM. His color palette originally was supposed to look like the trans flag.

His theme is Tonight by Sunset Neon. Could potentially work as a villain song, if he were one.

Songs he would probably sing

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins

Tainted Love - Soft Cell

Heart of Glass - Blondie

Cruel Summer - Bananarama

(I Just) Died in Your Arms

Second is Citrine!

Her voice claim is AJ Michalka.

Citrine is a Pop Troll who traveled the world to find a name for herself. She tried to form a band for the longest time with those of different Trolls tribes, but she always found herself always feeling out of place.

Eventually, she began to realize that the reason why she always felt out of place was the simple fact that she didn’t want to start a band. Citrine always preferred to lead and direct other Trolls instead of participating in dancing and singing all the time.

She made her way to Mount Rageous after overhearing about it from a few of the Trolls she had been staying with at the time. When Citrine finally arrived there, she immediately headed towards the Rage Dome.

Citrine came across a Rageon called Momentune, who immediately took a liking to her style, and introduced himself as the manager of Mount Rageous. He and Citrine got to know each other for awhile, and Citrine eventually decided that she would like to work by his side as co-manager.

Her dancing style is still a work in progress, but it’s probably a combination of the Rageons and Pop Trolls. Along with what she ended up learning from Momentune.

She does occasionally dance and sing, but only with Momentune, as the both of them are super close. Despite being separate species, they consider each other as twins.

Songs she would probably sing (still a WIP)

Dreams - The Cranberries

Songs that Momentune and Citrine would sing together (still a WIP)

Rather Be - Clean Bandit/Jess Glynne

Shooting Star - Owl City

[charalysis]

Kratos

WARNING: RAGNAROK SPOILERS

Many folks know Kratos of "God of War", and many were confused and/or delighted by his character in the 2018 game. I however adore his development and will be describing what I see in his story and development as a character/person within the lore.

Starting off, Kratos was born to Callisto and sired by Zeus along with his little brother Deimos. From a young age, Kratos was already experiencing traumatic events that would shape his personality and temper, starting with the abduction of Deimos.

Zeus heard of a prophecy that said "a marked man" would kill him. Seeing his younger son's strange birthmark, he sent Ares and Athena to capture Deimos. Kratos attempted to save and protect his little brother, but was thrown into a wood pile by Ares, which gave him the scar over his right eye. Ares wanted to kill him, but Athena stopped him and apologized to Kratos.

This event left a huge mark on Kratos and he vowed to never falter again. His huge body tattoo is in honor of Deimos, as it is the same shape as Deimos's birthmark. However, as he aged, he would forget exactly what happened to his brother until after Ares's death.

Which brings us to the next part...

During his quest for the Ambrosia, Kratos was unknowingly chosen as Ares's champion in a competition among the gods for it. This would apparently be the beginning of worse trauma for Kratos, as his only intention was to get the Ambrosia to cure his sick daughter, Calliope, who would otherwise be killed by fellow Spartans. It was in this he was named Captain.

(It was also around here he met his future son's namesake, Atreus, whom he immensely respected and buried himself with full Spartan honors.)

Sometime later Kratos was named general and he was usually away from home, destroying all who opposed Sparta and his thirst for conquest and power grew with every victory. (Disclaimer: As much as I love Kratos, he was a HORRIFIC person in early life and in the original trilogy.)

While on these conquests, he was being overpowered by the Barbarian army and their king, who sought Kratos's death for his father's death. In a desperate attempt to get a leg up and win, Kratos called out to Ares and pledged himself to the god in exchange for power. Ares heard, accepted, and granted him the Blades of Chaos.

For awhile, Kratos served loyally, but losing whatever humanity he once had.

Ares sent Kratos eventually to attack and kill some of Athena's followers, however, in secret, the god of war transported Kratos's wife, Lysandra, and their daughter to the temple.

Kratos, in a blind rage, slaughtered everyone in the village and temple, ignoring the warnings of the village oracle. It wasn't until he looked around to check for anyone living that he saw his family, slain by his hand.

Ares's excuse was he wanted to mold Kratos into the "perfect warrior" by removing anything he was sentimental over. Stricken by grief, Kratos left his family's bodies to burn in the temple and renounced his allegiance to Ares. The oracle cursed him to wear the ashes of his dead family in his skin, a reminder of his horrific deeds. Thus was born the Ghost of Sparta.

During the events of the games, Kratos is subjected to a great deal of turmoil, hardship, and even further loss, being forced to kill his mother, watched his brother be crushed against a cliff side, and was repeatedly betrayed and used by other gods and the Titans.

Now, psychologically speaking, this all would be enough to drive a person over the edge and attempt to end their life, which the first game starts with. Kratos falling from a cliff to die.

It is all also enough to drive a person into a blind fury and crave justice. However, Kratos acts on vengeance rather than justice, and he cares very, very little who's in his way as he goes about trying to eliminate the gods who betrayed and used him. He will, and does, kill any who stand in his way, allies or no. He is a man possessed by grief, hurt, and anger.

The former of those emotions, though, are not explored until 2018's God of War.

By then, he is around 1,064 years old, 1,020 some odd years after the downfall of Olympus and it's pantheon at his hands. He's met and married Faye and had Atreus.

He is significantly calmer, though no less harsh. He does all he can to bury his past, going so far as to once try to get rid of the Blades of Chaos (which we learn left brands in his arms), but they apparently came back, as he says in Ragnarok.

Unfortunately, until Atreus is 11 years old, Kratos stays away from Faye and their son due to trying to control his anger better. Because of this, he struggles to connect with his son, mostly calling him "boy" throughout the 2018 game. It often seems as though he doesn't care about his son, being incredibly harsh and shutting down the kid's emotions, snapping regularly, and often implying Atreus isn't good enough.

However, we clearly see his love for Atreus in the moment Atreus is unconscious after the first solo confrontation with Modi. His son his dying and pale, very sick... He terrified for his little boy.

This is also where we see his PTSD around losing his first family rear its head. As he's on the lift to Freya's, he's breathing quickly and shallowly, and he even paces. Anxiety is visibly eating away at him, because if he loses his son, he's lost another child, and he cannot handle that.

Kratos seems reluctant to get close to Atreus for that very reason, but he cares deeply for his son, as he did for everyone he's loved. He destroyed gods in the name of his loved ones murders, even if it was he who made the blow (which he blames himself for anyway).

It would seem he is also reluctant to outright call people friends. The couple we see him outright refer to as such in Ragnarok is Brok and Freya, although he clearly cares about Mimir and Sindri too.

By Ragnarok, Kratos is a much softer man in comparison to who he used to be. He craves time with his son, opens up to Freya about his daughter, he's enforcing healthy boundaries with people, and by the end, he's expressing his emotions more openly. He's smiling a bit here and there, he's chuckling, and he's letting himself cry. He's finally healed somewhat from his traumatic past.

So, what are we taking from Kratos here?

What we see in his story, like him or not, is a man who was riding high, living a good life by his standards, and gaining power. We see this man making mistake after mistake, and suffering the consequences. We see him trying to control things out of his control, and losing more and more of his humanity as he digs himself deeper into the hole he's dug.

Kratos's tale is one about a man who seeks revenge, gets it tenfold, loses everything, and has to rebuild his life and himself from the beginning. He's put himself in a shitty situation and he has no one he can blame but himself by the 2018 release. He's got no one to be furious with besides himself...

This isn't even getting into his PTSD overall, or his self-loathing!

PTSD wise, he has severe anxiety over losing his child, as we mentioned earlier, however, such events make him recall Athena, thus calling back to his past when he last felt truly awful. He also has anxiety over being told to "just shut up and kill things", as told to him by Freya in Ragnarok while in Vanahiem. He then stated back to her that he is no ones tool and he would appreciate if she did not ever say that shit to him again.

His self hate presents itself in the 2018 game too, with the vision of Athena. "Athena" tells him he can't change and he's nothing but a monster. And he AGREES with her. He believes he's nothing good, and that's heartbreaking...

TL;DR: Kratos is an extremely damaged man with severe temper problems, but he eventually changed for the better.

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Fifty One

Masterlist

Lucille: *doesn’t follow but keeps an ear out for trouble. Instead she decides to help with the soup and the chickens*

Dogmeat: *plays along happily, doesn’t mind getting tackled/tackling the other dog in their little game of keep away*

Gardio: Anyway, lovely talking up you Miss…

Aster: Hm? *realizes he’s asking her name* Oh- Aster, like the flower. *smiles* I picked it out myself.

Gardio: *eyes widen* You’re-

Aster: A synth? Yes. Everyone here is. Well, except you two. *tilts her head* Though I imagine there’s a reason DiMA let you two in.

Teshteal: His brother’s getting repairs done. He’s suuuuper dirty!

Aster: *nods understandingly*

Donovan: (Leads her up two flights of stairs and up to the attic where the once dingy and dirty space has indeed been converted into a nice sitting room with a few beds. He sets up two chairs close to one another, turning to the girl) “Before we start, I have to ask you something. Rosie, are you okay? Are you safe, I’m any sort of danger at all?” (Still a little suspicious of Lucille, Jasmine hasn’t even confirmed any of what she had said. In fact she seemed rather distant with the older woman)

Jasmine: (Firmly as she waves a hand at him) “No. Do not try and delay it, Donovan. It will not work on me.” (Sits down on a chair, waiting with her face in a neutral expression. Outside the storm rages on, the sound of the rain hitting the roofs shingles is loud enough to cover most noises in the room)

Donovan: “Right….” (Heavy sigh as he sits in a chair next to her, tapping his fingers on the chair while he thinks of what he’s going to say as there’s no arguing with that voice. He doesn’t want to overload the already exhausted and beat down girl with details, he wants to just skip through most of it) “So, you remember that your aunt was making plans to go down to Texas for awhile with you and your siblings? Just to get away from all the chaos and take a breather after…?”

Jasmine: (Nods her head, heart thumping faster when she thinks of her poor sweet mother)

Donovan: (Really doesn’t want to deliver the news right now, but he knows this girl is stubborn as hell) “Well, obviously you being snatched like that would change up those plans, she pushed back everything while everyone we knew tried to find you. I mean everyone Rosie, right down to the kids from school.”

Jasmine: (Thinks of the the kids from school that she would hang around with, all the misfits who didn’t have anywhere else to play without the fear of getting picked on)

Ma: (Goes back into the kitchen where a few more fishermen have joined the first man who walked in. She stirs a big pot that’s filled with chicken noodle soup, all it’s contents homemade)

Fisherman: (Notices that she’s just doing mindless tasks, something she only does when worried) “You doing alright, Ma?”

Ma: “I’ll be fine dear, it’s just that this world can be so cruel to people, especially the innocent…” (Bends down to pick up a dog bowl off the ground then opens a cabinet, reaching in) “Pirate?”

Dog: (Perks up when she hears her name, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she halts the game of keep away)

Ma: (Walks back to the living room with two dog bowls in hand that are filled with canned dog food) “Come eat darling.” (To Lucille) “Would it be a problem if I fed your pup as well? He looks like he could use a bite or two after that trek you took.”

Joyce: (Opening the cage containing the little chicks, setting them inside a baby pool as there isn’t much room in the makeshift pen with the adults)

Dogmeat: *pauses with one leg quizzically raised, toy still in his mouth*

Lucille: No, not at all. I’m sure Dogmeat could use a meal. *has taken the broom and sweeping the living room to try and help in some way*

Dogmeat: *puts the toy away and joins Pirate for dinner. Patiently waits next to the other dog*

Ma: (Smiles down at the two pooches, setting down a bowl before each of them. She looks up and sees that Lucille is sweeping the floor, her eyes brightening) “Why aren’t you a polite sweetheart! Someone’s parents taught them manners!” (Gestures to the kitchen where the aroma of soup and bread drifts from the stove) “Would you care for a bowl yourself? Of soup, I mean.”

Pirate: (Immediately starts chowing down her food with noises of happiness)

Donovan: (Continues) “It was so bizarre, no one knew anything about what happened to you, or at least they pretended to. We checked in with the police stations to try and find the officers that were there that day. I swear Ro-Ro, I saw one of them standing there, you know I have a good memory. But when we confronted her she said that she was off duty that day and was visiting her parents in Quincy. It was the same story with everyone else we found and cornered.”

Jasmine: (Nods without saying anything, remembering Nicks speculations on the vault people and the program they initiated)

Donovan: “We thought we were making progress when Mr Wills got into contact with some old pals from his military work, but then we ran into some hiccups, followed by a wave of a strain of the New Plague started going around in our town. Specifically in our family of friends…” (Pauses to take in a deep breath, remembering all that he went through during those times) “It started with your aunt, and from her it passed on to your siblings, then me and Jie, then our parents, then so on. We had to halt almost everything as everyone was quarantined and bedridden, some of us ended up getting hospitalized…. Including Lilac and Cosmos.”

Jasmine: (Eyes widen when she hears this, her mouth going dry. Her siblings had very weak immune systems even when compared to the average kid, she was always cautious with them during flu season for that reason. If they had caught a variant the dreaded New Plague while already battling with grief…)

Donovan: (Gives her a somber and empathetic look, reaching over to take her hand) “I’m so sorry Rosie, but they passed not long after catching it.”

Jasmine: (Lowers her head, imagining her precious siblings wasting away on medical beds, and her not being there to comfort them…)

Donovan: “You can imagine we were all devastated and heartbroken after losing the three of you, but we all still hope we could still get you back home safe and sound.”

Jasmine: (Raises her head, a little hope in her voice despite the pain that’s weighing down on her) “And my aunt, what happened to her…?”

Donovan: (Opens his mouth, then quickly shuts it while looking away. After a moment he turns back to the girl, still holding her hand) “Rosalinda, I can see that you’re worn down to the bone. Please, why don’t you rest a little then we can finish our chat?” (Gives Jas a pleading look. He shouldn’t have even started this conversation beforehand, should’ve insisted on her getting some rest first) “Just trust me on this one Ro-Ro…”

Dogmeat: *scarfs his down too. He’s a hungry little pup*

Lucille: Oh- yes. Thank you… *finishes sweeping up then adds another log to the fire once it seems it’s getting low* Once the storm is past, I can fix up the chicken coops, if you like.

Ma: “That would be wonderful, a Yao guai tried to break in a few days ago to get an easy meal out of our flock. Luckily it didn’t manage to kill anything, just bash in the roof of the big coop and now we have a new rug for decor!” (Turns to gather up dishes from the cabinets so she can feed her guests)

Fishermen: (All helping with giving the place a wipe down, trying to earn their keep for staying the past two nights plus this one)

Jasmine: (Sits up straight, tilting her head while her face hardens and she draws back her hand. She ain’t waiting a second longer, this delay he’s trying to give only makes her more anxious) “We went to the house, I saw what was in the safe. What happened to her?” (Or rather, what did her aunt do when her adopted niece was kidnapped and her brothers other two kids had passed away)

Donovan: (Closes his good eye) “Rosie… I’m sorry, after all that she took a step back to examine the situation….” (Trails off, not having the heart to tell her the full truth but knows deep down that she is already putting it together)

Jasmine: (Looks to her feet, not breaking face despite wanting to throw up. Or just scream bloody murder and break everything in sight, or claw out her skin until all she sees is red. She’s trying so hard to remain in control, been trying since she had parted with Nick. But now it’s pounding in her chest, hard enough to actually hurt and send shocks through her body)

Donovan: (His eyes click to her hands, then her feet, noting how they subtly move in the direction she anticipates running in) “Rosalinda-…”

Jasmine: (Catches on and springs to her feet, snarling at him with a burst of fury as she feels herself finally rip apart from the inside out) “MY NAME IS JASMINE!” (Bolts across the attic to kick open the small window that lets in a whoosh of wind and rain. She leaps out into the raging storm, free falling three stories. Why does everybody keep calling her Rosalinda? Rosie wouldn’t do any of this shit! Rosie was an innocent little girl…)

Donovan: (Had reached out to grab the teen by the jacket, but was an inch too late. She’s a lot faster than he anticipated, he’d assume she’d be slower with how frail she looked) “Rosalinda-! Dammit girl!” (Wastes no time and makes a beeline to the stairs and clamors down them) “Of course ya do this…”

Jasmine: (Lands in the muddy earth below with a loud cry of anguish at the fucked up world, her sobs getting drowned out by the roaring wind. She stumbles on her own two feet as she starts making a blind run into the thick Fog and radiation storm)

Donovan: (Pounds down the final set of stairs) “Ma! She’s making a break for it again!” (Starts putting on his gear by the door)

Ma: “Oh dear….” (Instantly drops what she’s doing and rushes to slip on a heavy raincoat over her house dress, frantically grabbing a shotgun from the closet) “Dios mío…”

Fisherman: (Turns around with the rest of his crew, sensing the urgency) “Do you need some assistance out there Ma?”

Joyce: (Also rises from watching over the baby pool of chicks. She’s not much of a fighter, but she can still lend a hand in seeking this runaway)

Ma: (As she goes to the door) “Yes please, we don’t know what’s lurking out there…” (Fearful that some big creature of the Island will try to hunt the small girl while she’s fleeing)

Donavan: (Bursts out the main door, slinging his rifle over his shoulder) “Rosalinda!” (Mumbling) “Whatcha think you’re doing now? We ain’t at home anymore, the Island will swallow a little girl whole….”

Jasmine: (Already had disappeared into the forest without much of a trace, running far off with her arms frantically waving in front of her so she doesn’t crash into anything. She can barely see shit in the Fog with all the rain and tears on her face. Her bare feet pound into the muddy ground, getting cut on sharp rocks and twigs)

Lucille: *sighs* Here we go again.

Dogmeat: *already up and alert*

Lucille: *pulls out the Silver Shroud coat- she forgot she had it still but given how much Nick and Jas hold onto each other, her scent might still be on it… or Nick’s scent on her given how much he smokes* Dogmeat, Pirate? Track her down for me. *let’s the two dogs sniff the coat*

Dogmeat: *sniffs it closely for a moment and bolts out of the house*

Lucille: *pulls out her tesla gun and walks out the door* Alright, time to hunt her down. Again. *to Joyce* How good are you with a gun?

Gardio: *ran into Cog and they’re talking about life on the island. Honestly, he doesn’t care much that everyone there’s a synth. They’re still people.*

Teshteal: *chimes in every once in a while about something*

Pirate: (Also picks up the scent, bounding after Dogmeat and the girl. Jas has seemed to have gone out the main gate and is fleeing down the road from there)

Joyce: (Takes out a hunting rifle from the closet, shrugging on a rain coat) (Jokingly) “Not as good as I am with men that is for sure honey, but I can manage.” (Takes a few dosages of Rad-X to help keep her radiation levels down while in the storm)

Lucille: Good. *also takes a few doses of rad-x before heading out into the storm. She switches on the flashlight and keeps track of the dogs through the vats overlay in her power armor helmet*

Donovan: (Curses himself for not explaining things fully to her and for withholding information. She’s Rosie, of course she’ll eventually put it together one way or another. The poor kid is probably assuming the very worst right now. He takes off after the dogs, fully planning on catching this girl for once)

Ma: (Follows close behind with Joyce and the fisherman, giving them instructions on not to get close to the girl and to keep an eye out by making a perimeter if they manage to catch up to her)

Jasmine: (Running like a madwoman, vaguely aware of the destination she’s heading to as she makes a sharp turn in the foggy woods. She’s absolutely soaking wet and freezing right now, but her body is numb to it all. She slows down to a trot, clutching her chest as it gets harder to breathe and questions flood her mind. Did she sleep peacefully at night? Did she go through each day with a calm face? Did she stop to think who she was leaving behind? The pieces start to fall in place, and she gets closer to a horrid answer. The pieces start to fall in place, and she gets closer to a horrid answer, finding herself scratching her sides again to draw blood)

Nick: *still being worked on. Completely unaware of the situation with Jas. Probably won’t know until he gets there*

Gardio: *still talking with Cog, brings up some ideas to make Acadia feel a little more lively.*

Jasmine: (Hears barking in the distance, bolting into a nearby building to hide. She runs through the front door of what looks like a house and clamors up the stairs, hosting herself up to hide in the small attic above the second floor)

Pirate: (Stops when she comes to a small cluster of buildings and homes, barking like crazy at nothing)

Donovan: (Shields his eyes as he glances around in the fog, cursing again under his breath when the pups lose the scent) “Undefeated Hide and Seek champion…” (Rubs his forehead, remembering those tournaments that could last hours) “Please let me win a round just this once, Ro-Ro. It’s for your own good.” (To the group) “Pan out! Search every nook and cranny, no matter how bizarre it may seem. She’ll somehow find a way if she wants to.”

Joyce: (Sticking close to Ma as they search for the teen together in what seems to be an old bank)

Fishermen: (Checking under under piles of rubble and in shrubs, keeping any eye on the nearby ocean for anything that might deem them a snack)

Pirate: (Sniffing the ground, whining loudly when all she can smell is salt and the rotten fish and sea creatures scattered about. Far off in the distance she hears the howls of wolves, making her growl)

Lucille: *cycling through vats occasionally as she checks everywhere in the houses. Taking the opportunity to gather scrap for repairing the coop and a few other things as she does on most outings to find a missing person or retrieve an important lost item for someone. She clears the places out completely, still not finding her* Where are you Jasmine…? You think running from your problems are going to fix anything? How’s that working for you, now? *as she keeps searching* Nick can’t help you now. This is exactly what he was talking about before he shut down.

Dogmeat: *whines cause the salt is messing with his nose too. He’s still picking up traces, though. There’s a reason Nick calls on him for the tough ones. He goes around the houses, sniffing for the one with the strongest lead*

Jasmine: (Curls into a ball and shivering in its furthest and darkest corner. She wants her Dad to hold her right now, to assure her she’s safe and loved in that fatherly manner he does so well. But she has no idea how to even get to him, let alone if her self doubt will let her accept him. She kicks the air while she swears, making several cuts in her sides and arms to help quell her spinning head with her knife. Darkly enough, it brings her back a little with its forbidden pain that she’s addicted to. Yes, there’s an alarm in her head that’s saying Nick will be terribly disappointed in her, and it is getting louder and louder…)

Ma: (Power lifting anything that the girl could be hiding under, getting more frantic as the howling of the wolves get closer. She’s starting to worry that Jas isn’t here, that she may be still running. Or worse, something got to her)

Donovan: (Comes up to one of the houses, noticing the sign that reads, “Waves Crest Orphanage”, a sudden memory from his childhood hitting him. He quickly goes through the door, glancing around at the abandoned nursery and playroom) “Rosalinda! Are you here?” (Starts searching the bottom floor, combing through the classroom and living room. He even lifts up the sofa to check under it, knowing that Jas once hid under one) “C’mon, c’mon…”

Jasmine: (Flinches from her hiding place when she hears Donny downstairs, stashing away the knife she was using while making herself as small as possible in the attic)

Donovan: (Goes up the stairway, catching sight of muddy footprints on the hardwood floor that’s covered by a small part of the roof. He looks to the attic, finding that there’s no stairway or ladder up) “Rosie?”

Jasmine: (Stays quiet as she trembled in her little corner, hoping that he just goes away)

Dogmeat: *finds the orphanage, too. It’s the strongest lead so far and heads inside. Yep. Definitely the right place. His nose doesn’t lie. He runs to where the attic entrance is and barks affirmatively*

Lucille: *hears the bark and comes running* Dogmeat? What have you found, boy? *when she enters the building* Is it Jas?

Dogmeat: *another affirming bark then does the little tippy toe dance he does when he’s found something*

Lucille: *when she hears the bark then the light tapping of his claws* Good boy! This is why you’re the best in the business! *walks over to where Donny is and makes a note to give him extra treats while petting him* Now how do we get up there?

Pirate: (Comes trotting on over, sitting down besides Donovan while whining sadly as she can smell blood from down here)

Jasmine: (Winces again when she hears everyone gathering inside, heart starting to pound more adrenaline throughout her body. She’d start running again if there wasn’t the risk of getting caught when she tries to go downstairs)

Donovan: “Hm…” (Drags over a worn out bed from the corner, positioning it under the gap in the attic that Jas had climbed through) “This should work.”

Ma: (Heard the barking and comes in with Joyce close on her heels) “You found her?”

Donovan: (Tests the bed to make sure it can hold their weight by pressing on it) “Yeah, we did.” (Lowers his voice) “Wait outside in case she tries to make another break for it, please.” (Knows that it is a very likely possibility that she will try to run when confronted)

Ma: (Silently nods her head, motioning for Joyce to follow her back down the stairs to guard the exterior of the orphanage)

Donovan: (Steps into the bed, gaining his balance) “Rosalinda?” (Starts positioning his arms so he can pull himself up)

Lucille: *decides to also wait outside. She’s not going to be much help here. Better to have someone help guard than make it a 1000 times worse* I’ll join the others just in case.

Dogmeat: *sad whine with a tilt of his head*

Donovan: (Nods down at Lucille, jumping up onto the attic. He clicks on his flashlight that’s strapped to his chest, looking around the damp and dingy space. Rain is still able to trickle in through holes in the roof)

Pirate: (Whines from the second floor, waiting for her beloved owner to come back down)

Donovan: (Spots the small shivering frame of the girl in the corner) “Rosie…?”

Jasmine: (Very briefly raises her head to glance at him with tear filled eyes)

Donovan: (His one good eye widens when he sees the blood seeping through her sleeves and sides, immediately knowing what she did because of how the blood stains her shirt in several long thin lines) “Ro-Ro…” (Bends down in front of her, cornering the girl without getting too close. He doesn’t want to frighten her and risk her scampering off again) “I know you’re upset, I-… I am sorry that this all happened to you. I really am, you of all people don’t deserve this.” (Holds out his hand to her, offering to help her up with a gentle smile) “It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think? And wet too. Wouldn’t it be better if we went inside where it’s safe and warm?”

Jasmine: (Stares at the offered hand, shrinking back while shaking her head with a hiss)

Donovan: (Frowns at her, sensing her stubbornness on her decision to run and stay away from people) “Well why don’t you? If you want to be alone you can use our guest room to hide in or have the whole attic to yourself if you wanted. If it’s running you want to do you can do laps around our farm.” (Scoots in a little) “The bottom line is that you can’t be out here alone, it’s not safe or healthy.”

Joyce: (Leans on the wall of the orphanage from the outside, holding her rifle by her side) “Mama, who’s this girl we have been looking for?”

Ma: “Oh, she’s…” (Pauses when she gets a flashback of Jasmines mother walking into her cafe with a baby girl lovingly strapped to her chest in a sling. Her memory isn’t as clear as Donny’s, she has fuzzy patches and missing details, but she can still clearly see the beaming smile of pride Angélica had on her face while she brought Rosie around to meet everyone) “The daughter of a good friend of mine. She’s a good kid, just a little frightened right now….”

Lucille: *staying right at the door of the building, her armor taking up most of the door-frame. She stays silent on the matter. She made a promise to Nick and there’s a lot of things she could say right now that would violate that promise*

Jasmine: (Hisses and growls again in response to Donny’s last line)

Donovan: “Talk to me Ro-Ro, use your words. Tell me what’s wrong so we can work it out, together.” (She kinda reminds him of when they first found her two cats Nibbles and Munchkins hiding in an alleyway behind a garbage cans. The two little kitties were puffy tailed and hissing like crazy, it taking lots of blankets and slow movements to trap them and bring back home)

Jasmine: (Shuffles back into her corner, scratching at her arms while the pressure builds up in her chest and clouds her mind. She wants her Dad, but he’s not here)

Donovan: (Sighs) “I want to help you Rosalinda, but you have to work with me otherwise I’m just talking to brick wall.” (Reaches out to stop her from drawing more blood. He has no idea that he’s sounding so much like her father right now)

Jasmine: (Lashes out when he comes close with a snarl, trying to strike at his face)

Donovan: (Like he’s scolding a toddler) “No hitting.” (Simply knocks her hand away to keep Jas from hitting him) “And if you want something use your words, you’re not a wild monkey.” (Has gone through this before while befriending orphaned kids, he has all the patience in the world)

Lucille: *standing stalwart in the rain at the door. Just staring into the darkness of the building. Wonders if she should have stayed back at 88. At least there she knows she’s wanted. Needed, even. At least there and all the other settlements she isn’t some looming threat and she can speak her mind without it being taken in the absolute worst faith imaginable. She can actually help without it being taken as some hostile act. Here, in this moment, she’s just some big brute no one trusts*

Jasmine: (Crouched in a defensive position, blood seeping through her clothes)

Donovan: (Wonders how long she has been cutting herself for, and how many times she’s fled from her current group. Although he still reserves his suspicions on that part. He decides to test her a little on that) “Do you want me to get…” (Realizes that he doesn’t even know Lucille’s name, or what she looks like, or what’s even her relationship with Jas. All he knows is that Jasmine apparently has an adoptive father somewhere, but why isn’t he here? She’s obviously in a terrible and distressed mental state, if he’s a good father like the lady downstairs says, then he should be here with her) “Uh, the powered armored lady. You want me to bring her up here so you can talk with her too?”

Jasmine: (Still very salty about the whole needle and slapping thing) “No!!” (Curls up into a ball even tighter, trying to drown out the words in her head)

Donovan: (Frown deepens at her reaction at the mention of Lucille) “Why not?”

Jasmine: (Forcefully) “Go away! Leave me alone!” (She’s really trying not to get full on feral on her childhood friend, if he were someone else she might’ve. Luckily for him, when she looks at him all she sees is that goofball of a boy who was always clumsily falling over)

Ma: (Wondering what’s taking Donny and Jas so long. Although, she can suppose that he’d have trouble convincing her to come willingly, the girl was stubborn whenever she fled from home at night)

Pirate: (Bolts out of the orphanage, barking aggressively)

Wolves: (Come charging out of the Fog, jaws snarling and snapping)

Lucille: *can hear their conversation. She frowns and wonders why she’s even doing all this. She puts up her tesla rifle and pulls out Sutcliffe, turning to face the woods in case the wolves suddenly attack her. Why keep trying to help someone who obviously doesn’t want your help at this point? Who hates you? Who’s made it clear they’d rather you be far away from them? Maybe after they get back to the lighthouse, she should just head back to Far Harbor and wait for the others. At least Jasmine won’t have to see her for a while. She’ll be with people who can properly take care of her- actually be able to address her needs and get her better without the risk of them instantly breaking down or needing repairs. Nick needs a fxcking break from this*

Fishermen: (Taking care of the wolves while Pirate helps)

Ma: (Is ready just in case they come over to the orphanage)

Donovan: “Alright then, she stays down there I guess…” (Squints at the shivering girl) “She said that you got adopted by a man. Nick, right? Is this true?”

Jasmine: (Holds her breath when she thinks of her Dad who’s being patched up at the moment, far away somewhere that she doesn’t know. She looks down to her bloodied self, whimpering when she remembers that she made him a promise, although there was no one to tell when she cut herself other than the wolves in the woods. Tears start to stream faster down her face)

Donovan: (Takes the opportunity to inch closer, watching her hands to make sure she doesn’t run) “Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you while you’re like this? In fact, why did they bring you all the way out here while you are so broken like this?” (Even by Wasteland standards this girl is a fragile mess. She should be somewhere safe while she heals, somewhere where she doesn’t have to be constantly dealing with hostiles that want to rip her apart. Preferably this would be wherever she calls home now, but instead she’s out here with someone she doesn’t seem to be that fond of)

Jasmine: (Thinking to herself) “Because I am too fucked up for him to handle, he is too nice to toss me aside like he should have…” (Remembers their conversation outside of Diamond City, how he said that she was one of his own. Ah, she does not deserve him…)

Donovan: (Gets close enough that he can rest his hand on her shoulder) “Hey sweetheart…”

Lucille: *actually speaks up this time* That’s not the case! He was badly injured and we had to separate to bring her to you! That’s why he’s not here!

Donovan: (Although he can’t see Lucille from the attic he still snarls a little in her direction) “Then explain why IS the little girl is here?!? You brought her in barely alive and hanging by a thread, and you came from across the Island?!? What’s the logic in that?!? Why is Rosie wandering the wastes while having a mental crisis and obviously ill?!? How is that going to help her in anyway?!? What the hell is going on?!?”

Ma: (Turns around to look at the orphanage, having been wondering the same thing since she first saw the girl. Rosalinda was always a very healthy child, even when the odds had been against her due to the lack of food and proper healthcare. But now she’s so sickly looking for even a wastelander that it’s deeply concerning)

Jasmine: (Lowers her head and starts to sob loudly into her hands when Donny starts to shout. She’s too tired for this shit right now, she just wants her Dad to come for her even if he’s disappointed in her cuts. She just wants to be assured that she’s not being abandoned again for the third time. God, she feels like she’s been hit by a semi truck right now)

Lucille: *finally snaps. She’s DONE being the villain in this situation* ASK ROSALINDA!! IF you can even get a WORD out of her let alone get her to actually EAT!!! She wasn’t dragged here against her will!!! SHE CAME WILLINGLY!!!! WE could have turned around at any point on our way here!! ANY!!! And Nick?!? *shakes her head irritably* Nick wouldn’t have had me take her to you if he didn’t think she’d be safe! Guess even the great Detective Nick Valentine can be so fxcking wrong!! *gestures around them then emphatically, almost madly mostly because she’s so tired of this bullshxt* On top of that, she’s not as frail as she looks- she jumped out of the highest window of a LIGHTHOUSE for Atom’s sake!! Do you honestly think?! For one SECOND?! That she’d be okay if she were as WEAK as you say she is?! *scoffs* Do YOU?! *stops and takes a breath to regain composure then bitterly* Now that I’ve yelled and probably made everything exponentially worse by losing my cool, I think I’m going to leave. *takes a few steps towards the woods then stops* Nick should be along soon to explain things in a… more rational light. I know Rosalinda will be safer and happier if I’m not around at the moment so please… *tired but sad sigh* Do everything you can to help her get better. *walks off into the woods to Far Harbor*

Joyce: (Looks at Ma with wide eyes at Lucille’s outburst, mouth dropping open)

Ma: (Frowns and shakes her head) “Leave her be for now.” (To the fishermen who got defensive) “Don’t shoot, there’s obviously something more to this than we can see.” (Scratches her head) “All we can do now is wait and see if what she said is true.” (If not then they are keeping Rosalinda with them until Lucille comes back or they get her to talk)

Donovan: (Stays quiet while Lucille speaks, frowning to himself. She keeps talking about this Nick guy yet he still hasn’t seen him or heard about him from Jazzy, so there’s still a doubt in his mind. Although she is right on the fact that Jas jumped from the third story without getting hurt, although that would be expected from her as she fell from the second story from her home and survived when she was only two years old)

Jasmine: (Whimpers out something inaudible, hugging herself tightly)

Donovan: (Turns his attention back to her, forgetting his thoughts) “Rosie?”

Jasmine: (Faces him with pained filled kitten eyes that are red with tears, finally pouring out what she had been keeping since she visited her home) “MY AUNT LEFT ME THERE TO DIE!!” (Brokenly) “She abandoned me just like my birth mother!” (Bursts into wild sobs)

Donovan: “Rosie, shhh sweetie…” (Pulls the crying girl close to him and starts stroking her hair that’s weighing down with the water from the rain)

Jasmine: (Doesn’t hold onto him but she rests her head on his shoulder) “She erased me from my home then abandoned me! She did not try to come for me!!” (Starts thinking about all the tender and sweet moments she and her aunt shared, was it a fabrication? Did she put on a fake smile? Was all the things she overheard from her aunt about her? Was she actually a mistake to adopt? Did she doom that poor family and everyone knew she would from day one?) “Did she ever care at all!?! Was it a ploy to keep Mamá happy?!? Did anyone care at all?!?”

Donovan: (Rubs the back of her neck, quietly shushing her) “I already told you Ro-Ro and I wasn’t lying. Yes, of course we cared. We missed you so much, we tried so hard to find you and bring you home….” (Kisses the top of her head) “Nothing was ever the same with the three of you gone, it pained me to think that we couldn’t find an away to bring you back, even after the bombs had dropped….”

Jasmine: (Partly melts in his hug, so overwhelmed by everything that has happened)

Lucille: *decides to make a beeline for the nucleus instead. She’s not a practicing child of Atom but at least there’s no Allen Lee. No one gives a shxt who she is there as a member. She’s not even really revered. Just another person who worships a God thought up in the wake of nuclear annihilation. A person that did a few nice things around their home. That’s all she wants now. Neutrality. Ironic since she’s walking right to a hub of a cult in a way*

Donovan: (Pulls Jasmine in even closer, patting her back with one hand while the other continues to rub the back of her neck) “You’re not a mistake Rosalinda, never were and never will be….”

Jasmine: (Trying to get ahold of her sobbing and emotions, but it’s so damn hard to get a grip on herself. She’s spiraling again, and trying to not let her programming get the better of her. That wouldn’t be a pretty sight for anyone…)

Donovan: (His main priority is to get her back to the house ASAP so she can be treated and get nice and clean and dried off by the fireplace. That’s what he wants for her right now, and for her to stop hysterically sobbing)

Ma: (Can hear the girl crying from outside, and it shatters her heart with each loud sob she gives)

Lucille: *actually starts to cry herself. She’s so sick of this shxt. So sick of the accusatory stares. The ever growing devide between her and one of her best friends, and helping in every way just to be looked down on. Maybe she should just take off her armor and lay in the irradiated water in the dry dock until the radiation kills her. Maybe it’d atone for blowing up the Prydwen. For not being able to save Glory. For any innocent live she’s inadvertently taken. For fxcking up all the time… maybe Kellogg should have just… killed her in Vault 111*

Jasmine: (Weakly as she grabs her head) “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You cannot control me anymore…”

Donovan: (Pulls back) “Rosie? What is it? No one has said anything but me…”

Jasmine: “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid…!” (Rocks herself as she tries to fight the programming that’s digging it’s claws into her mind)

Lucille: *stops dead suddenly and gets out of her power armor. She takes off her helmet and stares at it for a moment. She sets it down and pulls out Kellogg’s gun, smirking sadly at the grafitied words “Stinky Bastard Man” on the barrel she added. She starts aimlessly walking toward Atom’s Spring, leaving her weapons behind for someone to find* No one cares out here in the fog. I’m just another lost soul… *looks at the gun again* You were right back there- at the Memory den. You should have just put me down while I was on ice. *checks to see if it’s loaded- it is. Of course it is. She always keeps her guns loaded for a fight*

Jasmine: (Sobs bitterly for awhile, then suddenly goes still and quiet, her face going hard while her life drains from her eyes. She starts struggling again, squirming as hard as she can)

Donovan: (Notices this and grabs her by the shoulders to keep her still, looking straight into her eyes) “Rosalinda!”

Jasmine: (Blankly) “That is not my name.”

Donovan: “What do you-…” (Is suddenly flipped through the air) “Whah!! (Closes his eyes, opening them when he hits the soggy mattress that he dragged to get into the attic)

Jasmine: (Jumps out of the window, rolling on the ground as she lands. She straightens herself out and makes another run for it)

Pirate: (Starts barking like mad again, bolting after the teen)

Ma: (Looks up when Pirate runs off) “Pirate!”

Donovan: (Comes stumbling out of the orphanage) “Rosalinda! Goddammit!” (Makes a groan of frustration and annoyance. Hasn’t the kid learned her lesson yet? He thought he was getting somewhere with her, now she’s running again) “Cmon!” (Starts going after her again)

Dogmeat: *barks and bolts after her*

Lucille: *walking to the spring. She wades into the water, taking care not to get the gun wet* I guess you get your revenge after all… *primes the gun and presses the barrel it against the side of her skull* See you in hell, Kellogg… *finger rests steadily on the trigger. Tries to think of it like taking a shot at a raider or a Death Claw*

Jasmine: (Runs like hell to get as far away from civilization as she can, wanting to be left alone)

Pirate: (Catches up with the teen when she nears the docks for the Vim soda company. She jumps up and bites the girls shirt, giving her a tug back)

Jasmine: (Halts and starts swatting at the pup to get her to stop) “Get off!!”

Pirate: (Low growl as she tries to tug the feral kitten back to her big brother)

Jasmine: (Frees her shirt from the dogs mouth by using her hands, taking two steps back)

Trapper: (Slinks out from behind a house, aiming his pipe pistol at the girl)

Pirate: (Growls warningly, getting into a fighting stance)

Trapper: (Pulls the trigger)

Jasmine: (Yelps and jumps to the side last second for it to narrowly miss her head, diving head first behind a barrier just as two more shots whiz by her. She draws out her knife with a snarl and launches herself onto the trapper, grabbing him by the collar and gives him several wildly placed stabs until his body is nothing more than a pile of mutilated mush on the cracked pavement)

Dogmeat: *jumps in and grabs the girl by the back of her damn shirt and pulls her back as hard as he can*

???: Sister Lucille…? What are you doing?

Lucille: Committing myself to Atom. It’s the least I deserve…

???: You’ve read his teachings, you know this isn’t the way to honor Him. Please… you can confide in me. Tell me what’s going on…?

Lucille: It’s none of your concern, Zealot Ware.

Ware: It is when it concerns a fellow child of Atom that’s lost her way.

Lucille: I’ve read the teachings, yes. I can’t exactly be atomized without a mini-nuke. Now leave me to die in peace…

Ware: *sighs* I knew there was a reason to visit the spring today. It seems it’s Atom’s will that I help you. Please don’t do something shameful and taint the spring with your actions… and talk to me?

Lucille: *lowers the gun* Perhaps you’re right. I should have chosen a different location…

Ware: Not exactly but it’s a step in the right direction. Now please, sister Lucille. Talk to me.

Lucille: *musters up the energy to drag herself up to the shore then breaks down, landing solidly on her knees* I’M TIRED!! I’M SO GOD DAMN TIRED!! I just wanted my SON BACK- *chokes on a sob* I just wanted to live a comfortable life with NATE AND SHAWN AND CODSWORTH!! I just wanted to HELP PEOPLE!! I’m so SICK of getting stepped on!! I’m so tired of HELPING EVERYONE!! I’M SO FXCKING TIRED!!! *bawling uncontrollably after that*

Ware: *startled but kneels and takes her in his arms* Ssh… You can rest peacefully at the Nucleus, sister. Ssh…

Jasmine: “Dogmeat! Stop it!” (Pushes the pup away with all her might, trying to keep him out of the line of fire)

Donovan: (Appears from the Fog and spots Jas getting surrounded, aiming his rifle with his good eye and making a few shots to scare them off the girl)

Jasmine: (Already got in a fight with a trapper who came at her with a meat hook, both of them falling into the ground)

Donovan: “Rosie-!” (Tries to run to her, but gets cut off when a harpoon misses him by a hair) “Shit!” (Dives behind a tree and aims to take the trapper with the harpoon gun out)

Jasmine: (Feels a sharp pain in her side, but that just riles her up even more. With all her might she swings her dagger at the trappers face, ripping off a huge chunk of his flesh before she stabs him in the chest multiple times)

Trapper 2: (Slowly backs away in fear at the fact that the small girl overcame the other guy and shows no signs of stopping)

Dogmeat: *goes right back to trying to drag the girl back by the back of her shirt*

Lucille: *takes a bit to finish sobbing but soon she quiets down*

Ware: Do you think you can make it to the Nucleus?

Lucille: *shaky nod as she gets to her feet*

Ware: *helps her and they start walking back*

Jasmine: (He’s not safe either. Within milliseconds she’s pushing Dogmeat away again and lunging at him to serve the same treatment, but with more rage in her swings. She charges into the house, ready to give into her bloodthirsty rage that her programming is screaming at her to do)

Donovan: (Eyes widen when he sees her blind rage, slinging his rifle behind his back as he runs into the house after her)

Lucille: *when he leads her to a place to sleep in the Nucleus* Please don’t pity me, Ware-

Ware: This isn’t about pity. It’s about saving your life. You look exhausted, sister. *hands her some canned cram* here. But much but I’m sure you need it.

Lucille: *tears up remembering she was just moments away from eating a hot meal before Jasmine ran off again. Why did she even try to help her this time? She knew how it would end. She takes the cram and starts eating it while sat on the mattress. Tears start to stream down her cheeks again but not as heavily as before* Th- thank you, Ware. I don’t deserve this, but thank you-

Ware: *softly* Ssh… focus on sleep. Put it from your mind, Sister Lucille. *nods* Put it from your mind.

Jasmine: (Turns the place into a bloodbath within seconds, shredding apart anything that comes to attack her. Once nothing is moving, a bright Orange Chem box catches her eye. Her addiction takes ahold and she scrambles over it it, viscously ripping it open and taking whatever is in there like a deranged animal)

Donovan: (Clammers up the staircase and stops misstep, horrified by this) “The hell you are doing?!?” (Rushes up to the girl to knock out a container of Jet out of her hands, finding that it’s already empty. He looks to the empty cartridges from the chems the girl already absorbed within seconds, fear flashing on his face)

Jasmine: (Shoves past him and makes a dive for the window, leaping out onto the ground. This time the impact from fall actually hurts her, her leg and side specifically. Still, she stands and tries to run off again)

Lucille: *lays down after eating her can of 200 year old processed meat. Still considering death as she starts to pass out*

Donovan: (Jumps out of the window right after her) “Rosalinda Marie Brooke Romeo!!!” (Jogs up to her with relative ease and firmly grabs her by the shoulders. He spins her around to face him, his face serious with a bit of anger) “Just- STOP! Stop running for once in your life for the love of God, child!! Don’t you understand that you’re putting yourself in danger?!? That your actions can and will have severe consequences?!? That people care deeply about you and get worried sick when you decide to run off to God only knows where?!? Does that not mean anything to you?!? That you’re putting us all in danger by doing this?!?”

Jasmine: (Tries to shrug him off while she screams and thrashes in Donny’s hold) “Shut up! You are not my dad!!”

Ma: (Arrives with the rest of her group, eyes widening with shock when she sees all the bodies and blood, also at how Donovan is scolding the girl)

Teshteal: *slinks up near the scene but far enough away to not be seen by Jas. He gave the paper to Gardio so he could give it to Nick once Faraday finishes putting him back together- he did that thorough of a clean. He gages the situation- they must be the people they were looking for. If this starts getting out of hand he might use a code word to see if it’ll work*

Lucille: *so stressed out she keeps waking up then falling asleep again*

Donovan: (Huffs angrily, holding the squirming girl tightly) “You’re right, I am not you’re father. But I did grow up with you, and I watched as you pulled this up over and over again, not giving a shit when you continually almost got severely injured and when you got hospitalized. When everyone begged you to stop and come home with tears in their eyes, including Cosmos.”

Jasmine: (Hears her little brothers name and goes even more wildly feral with rage)

Donovan: (Releases her but only so he can cup her face and force her to look at him) “I watched the adults all shake their heads and shrug their shoulders tiredly because what could they do with you?! You were wild, stubborn, and living on your own terms. But you can’t do that trick anymore, you hear me?! Somebody has to teach you “No” one way or another. I don’t know what your living situation is right now, but as someone who considers himself as your older brother, I will start because this can’t keep happening!”

Teshteal: *nods. He agrees- if Nick had to specifically instruct her not to run off, it’s a common enough problem that needs to be adressed*

Lucille: *wakes up and one point and stares at the ceiling. Blankly*

Jasmine: (Twists and turns, using her hands to try and take Donny’s hands off her face)

Donovan: (Takes them off only to hold her hands) “Don’t you dare think about running away again, missy! You’re staying right here and that’s final!”

Jasmine: (Pulls on her hands, stamping her feet and crying like a toddler having a temper tantrum. The chems she took are adding to her temperament, clouding her mind even further)

Donovan: (Firmly, leaning in close) “I said no.” (Grips her hands tighter in his, waiting for it to seep into her head that she can’t have it her way. He has taken notice of the wound in her shoulder, looks like a bullet hit her and it’s still lodge inside. Her entire outfit is stained with blood so he can’t see if she’s injured anywhere else yet)

Ma: (Has taken the group to guard the perimeter to give Jazzy a chance to settle down without having a bunch of eyes on her. She stays within their sight though, keeping a close watch on her adopted son and the daughter of her friend)

Pirate: (Whines sadly, too distracted by this display to notice or smell Teshteal)

Teshteal: *watches on. He won’t use it unless she’s completely lost it. He’s learned his lesson from last time.  He can retrieve her later using his tail to keep himself safe doing what he did in the Glowing Sea* 

Jasmine: (Stares up at Donovan with wide eyes as she kicks and struggles, trying to throw herself back to make him fall off balanced)

Donovan: (Heavy sigh as he looks back down at her, being hit with the realization why she was never properly disciplined. Damn those puppy eyes, pitiful situation, hard to fight reasoning that she has for her own actions, and the over arching fact that she’s a good kid who never did things with evil intentions. Still makes them wrong in the end and he has to say and do something)

Jasmine: (Bottom lip trembles while she tries to give him a sharp kick in the shins, but she can’t make herself do that due to the fear of hurting him)

Donovan: (Maybe not right here though while she’s bleeding out and they are exposed, they should go back home now and get this stubborn as a mule kid patched up. He’ll pick her up kicking and screaming if he has to)

Lucille: *keeps trying to get some rest but it’s hard for her right now* Why the fxck can’t I stay asleep…?!

Teshteal: *watching, still. He fidgets with his shirt and ragged tie excessively to help him focus on the situation in front of him. He doesn’t dare make a noise*

Jasmine: (Teshteal might have to, she’s getting her energy back and is starting to get more wild again in her struggle)

Donovan: (Perks up at the sudden feeling of rumbling on the ground and sound of heavy thudding)

Ma: (Warning tone as she approaches, knowing what it is) “Donny…” (Readies her shotgun)

Donovan: “Shhh! Quiet down, Rosie.” (Pulls the struggling girl close to him and starts slowly backing away)

Jasmine: (Pounds at Donovan’s chest, squirming to get away while remaining obvious to the danger they are sensing) “LET ME GO!!”

Donovan: (Pushes them both into a ditch, narrowly missing the chance of being spotted by a hoard of super mutants who came stomping over from the nearby bottling plant at the scent of fresh corpses)

Ma: (Pulls Joyce who came running over behind her, backing away to take cover before them and the fishermen start shooting) “Brace yourself kids! Them muties can take a punch.” (Takes aim and starts trying to take down the mutants coming over the bridge)

Teshteal: *leaps into action. Doesn’t think they stand a chance against those brutes. He snatches the harpoon from the dirt then jumps into the frey- stabbing what looks to be the leader straight through the eye, completely obliterating the skull then stealing his super sledge to pick off the rest, even using the ones with bombs to destroy the rest of the group by leading them inward and tricking them into setting them off as he leaps out of range. As he watches the most of the hoard get blown to bits he grins. Just another few well placed hits and swings of one Mutant into another and the hoard’s outright demolished* 

Joyce: (Sees Tesheal suddenly take down the mutants) “What the hell?! Who’s that-?!”

Ma: (Bumps her on the shoulder as a mutant hound howls from deep within the bottling plant) “It don’t matter, keep sharp that was only the scouting party!”

Fishermen: (Have their guns trained on both Teshteal and the bridge to the bottling plant)

Jasmine: (Tumbles down a slope and lands face first into a knee deep stream, coughing out gobs of water and mush as she lifts herself up and shivers)

Donovan: (Scrambles to where Jas landed in the muddy water and covers her mouth with a hand, motioning for her to stay quiet while bullets fly overhead)

Jasmine: (Shrieks and swats at his sudden hands over her mouth, tears going down her face as she struggles. She manages to pull away from his grasp and crawl back a few feet, rising to her knees while gasping at a sharp pain in her leg that keeps her from fleeing)

Donovan: (Football tackles his childhood friend and pins her down, making sure not to actually hurt her or drown her while she swats and kicks at him. He drags them both into a bush on the shore, restraining Jasmine with a tight bear hug) “Hush now. It’s okay, we’re okay… You’re okay, take a deep breath….”

Teshteal: *laughs madly then grins, baring his shark like teeth* Bring it!! *darts in the direction of the bullets blindingly fast, taking care not to actually get it somehow. It becomes a bloodbath at the bottling plant- he at least distracts the the outer guard long enough for them to take care of Jas*

Super Mutant: (Looms in from above, sledge hammer grasped in its oversized green hands while a breathy huff snorts from his mouth)

Donovan: (Muffles the teens screams by holding her face close to his coat, slinging a leg over hers to keep her from kicking) (Whispering) “Shh, Rosie. I know you’re upset and scared, but you need to calm down for me, okay? Just for one moment…” (Rubs the back of her neck under her wet hair, bracing himself for whatever’s to come next)

Jasmine: (Quiets down in his embrace, the urgency of their situation hitting her cloudy head just enough that she has the sense to settle down and shut the hell up)

Super Mutant: (Scans the ditch while grumbling, eye glazing right past the two) “Hmpth. No meat...” (Lumbers off to attack everyone else)

Faraday: *wipes his brow* Finally. *shuts the casing* Begin startup protocol.

Nick: *his eyes flicker to life and after a few more clicks of his internal hard drive, he blinks and sits up, immediately testing his arms and hands* I don’t know how you did it but everything’s working a lot smoother than before. I can’t thank you enough, Faraday.

Faraday: Yes, yes. If you really want to thank me, don’t let it get this bad again, alright? *motions to the bin of soiled rags, some of them completely black with dirt and tar from his smoking habit*

Nick: *notices and frowns, nodding* I will certainly try not to. *sits on the edge of the table and moves his legs back and forth just to make sure they work right. He stands and looks down for a moment* Seriously, though. You’re a miracle worker. DiMA’s lucky to have you. *walks over to his pants and shoes and starts slipping them on*

Faraday: More than he knows. Seeing you like that, though? It makes me worry I’ll have to start keeping a closer eye on you. It would devastate him if you suddenly died. You ought to be more careful out there.

Nick: Oh don’t worry about me- I’m notoriously hard to kill.

Faraday: The bucket full of dirty rags says otherwise.

Nick: *shrugs* So, it does. *turns to him after buckling his pants* Just one question. You got any clothes I can wear?

Faraday: Ask Dejen up at the store. He should have something for a couple of caps.

Nick: Bad news, I left my caps in my coat and Lucille still has that.

Faraday: *hums in thought* I’ll spot you a few. *hands some to the old synth*

Nick: Thanks. Take care, Faraday. *leaves and heads upstairs to talk to the shopkeep*

Donovan: (Breathes a sigh of relief, although they ain’t in the clear yet. He relaxes his hold on Jas, hoping she’s calmed down some)

Jasmine: (Starts round two hundred of “making everything more difficult and a whole lot worse for everyone” by trying to pry Donovan’s arms off her shoulders)

Donovan: (Sighs again at her desperate struggling and scans the area for somewhere safer to take cover, spotting a worn down crumbling bridge nearby that they can hide under until the fighting dies down)

Jasmine: (Literally hissing and yowling like an angry feral kitten that’s been picked up from the side of the road)

Donovan: (Goes to lift the teen up by the waist, halting when he feels something warm pooling at her side. He pulls his hand away, horrified to find that it’s soaked in new blood) “Shit! You’re bleeding!”

@lucilleandherrobots

[bvrnin]

ana de armas. 37. cis woman. she/her. ― i see you met CATALINA DEVERA, huh? they have been around for… well, it will be A YEAR IN SAFE-ZONE, now. time flies when you are busy and as part of THE MILITIA, they are. if you want to meet them, they live in H4A, i think. people say they are INDEPENDENT + HUMOROUS, but don’t piss them off, okay? because they can be also QUIET + SARCASTIC, so be safe. 

⸻  BACKGROUND ( tw: death ) — catalina was born to a large family, her grandparents from both sides lived relatively close to where herself, her parents and 2 other siblings lived. which meant a lot of family dinners and celebrations. it's still to this day the most cherished memories catalina has. — getting a degree in economics, catalina thought several times about changing her degree as she was deeply unsatisfied with how it was going and she eventually did, despite her parents heavily disagreeing with her to psychology. she was about to graduate when all hell broke loose. — her family ran together, eventually being split apart. to this day catalina has no idea what befell her parents but she, with a deep heavy heart, assumed that they're dead. — together with her two other sibling they were trying to survive, going from store to store trying to find food or weapons, anything they can do to survive. in one heartbreaking moment, when they were trying to flee a horde, her young sibling got caught and killed. catalina with tears in her eyes killed them so spare them further pain. — the death of one of them took a tool on the middle sibling, who believed that their younger could've been saved. it caused the two of them to fight and eventually the middle sibling stormed off, blaming catalina. — catalina went alone for awhile until she found a group she could belong to, everything went as normal until a man and his ward joined. she would laugh with the man, tease and flirt in such an innocent way that things almost felt normal when she was with him. — when a horde of undead swarmed them they fled and got separated, the three of them and they tried to survive together and when seen by other group, a sinister one she suddenly became a wife. hold on, a wife?! she didn't have much time to think about it further before the suspicious group advanced a nd they were punished for their idiocy. — and it continued, the wife lie. or maybe it was no longer quite a lie. because when she looked at her man, she saw a future, a world beyond what they had now. ⸻  HEADCANONS — catalina's father was a ranger, so he's the only reason why she knows how to handle herself with a gun and she's thankful for that everyday since for her it feels like her father is protecting her despite not being here anymore. — catalina wears a flower neckless that was once belonged to her mother. she usually keeps in her bag but when things are calm, she wears it around her neck. — catalina has several tattoos around her arms and legs, some have meanings and others were just for fun. ⸻  WANTED CONNECTION

middle sibling — after the their younger sibling, this sibling blames catalina for leaving the young one to die and killing them, despite there would've been 0 chance of survival. in rage they got separated from catalina but deep inside they miss her deeply.

knew her parents — someone who was maybe in a group with her parents and knows about what happened to them, catalina will be glad for any detail. maybe they left some last words with this person or maybe they're still alive somewhere.

[changeling-fae]

Hello! For the not-nice OC ask, hunt, nightmare, and torture? For any OC you wish to talk about 🧐

Thanks, will once again do it for Nym. 💖

Once again putting this below a cut for triggering things: past child abuse, past CSA, drug use, and torture.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

Nym is hunted by Orin, the cult, her mother (in a sense), and herself. She is always alert, even when she sleeps.

I headcanon that not only is she a light sleeper, she very rarely ever feels safe enough to put her guard around others while she sleeps. You touch her and she’s already got a knife or her stinger aimed at you. The poor companions have to wake her from a distance if they don’t want to accidentally be shanked. She may have paralyzed one of them accidentally before (sorry Gale).

Years of always living on the edge, because she never knew when was someone would try and take her out, left her with a pretty engrained instinct that it’s kill or be killed.

It takes awhile for Astarion (and Raphael) to be able to touch her while she sleeps without her instantly reacting, it’s pure instinct on her part.

Also she sleeps in a fetal position on her stomach. She’s tight as a ball, as if to protect her vitals and conserve heat (which is what she’s doing).

But Nym never feels safe and she has to worry about losing control of her demonic/bhaalspawn side if she’s not constantly vigilant.

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

As both a bhaalspawn and just a trauma victim, she has nightmares all the time. Nightmares of her father’s death, of her time imprisoned in the dark after his death, of the people she’s killed, and of dreaming of the people she cares about dying by her hand.

She never tells anyone anything. She’s tighter than a clam and how she deals with her nightmares is by not sleeping, getting high, and/or ONS. After meeting Raphael (about a year before the game) she often visits the DD to play lanceboard with him or just not be alone. Ironically he’s the one person she felt somewhat safe with, he’s still a danger but she knew he had no plans to shank her at least and she could always sense his infernal nature so she didn’t have to worry about him being secretly Orin or a changeling.

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Oh, many times. First time was when her father died; goblins had cut off her wings in front of him before he broke free and managed to flee with her (but he succumbed to his own wounds). Then when the noble bought her from the debt collector, he kept her in hidden isolation below his estate and sexually abused her before she escaped and murdered him. Once the cult of Bhaal found her (her murders of the noble and his estate is how they found her), they quickly brought her into the fold.

She often had fight other cultists in rituals and was often pitted against Orin and the white dragonborn Durge created by Bhaal (she’s Durge too but her birth was more complicated). Her butler encouraged her rage and taught her how to torture other through various methods, although her abyssal heritage simmering underneath gave her an innate skill in it already.

She and Orin had a temporary truce shortly before the events of the game where they tortured and killed the white dragonborn Durge, but of course Orin eventually gets the jump on her as well. Canonically Orin tortured her and put a tadpole in her, and then Kressa Bonedaughter found her and experimented on her for who knows how long right before the start of the game.

Honestly Nym has been tortured so much in her life that it’s very ineffective on her. Her pain tolerance is obscenely high and it gets to a point mentally for her where she stops caring about the pain and will fight to the death if she has too. I call it “going feral” for her, she’s about as conscious of herself as a rabid animal.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I cant remember if i already sent in an ask, but i dont know what to do. Seven months ago, my dad relapsed back into his alcoholism. One night he got drunk, left my mom in an empty parking lot where my brother and I had to pick her up, and when we got home he had trashed all her things and threw her stuff out onto the front steps. It isn't the first time he's done this, my whole child it's all I can really remember him doing, but for awhile things were okay. Once he saw us though, he was an animal. He attacked my brother and they fought and we all had to pin my dad down while he screamed he'd kill us all. Once we thought it was okay to let him up, he lunged for my mom and my brother took the hit and they fought again. I had to call his brother, my uncle, to try and reason or stop him.

He nearly starts fighting my uncle, breathing heavily and his eyes just wild. I remember staring him dead in the face while he threatened he'd put a 40 in our skulls and kill us. That night we grabbed what we could and slept at my uncle's. The next morning, he felt guilty and apologized repeatedly but I blocked his number and refused to speak or see him. I still live at home though, meaning I'm still in a way in contact with him.

I'm done. I can't take it anymore, and what's worse is I'm alone in this decision. My dad is by no means a perfect person, I'm not either, nobody is. But this was too much and I've made my choice. My mother keeps trying to convince me to heal and accept my dad because he's an addict and given different circumstances, if I had an addiction or eating disorder, they wouldn't just abandon me right? But it's not the same, it really isn't.

I do have an eating disorder, I have CPTSD, I'm in pain and have been for a long time but I handle it and it's not something I let them see or know. What's his excuse. He's been abusive, manipulative, vile, and I can't forgive him.

I guess recently my dad had a small heart attack, and who knows maybe he'll die soon. But I don't feel anything about it. There's no anger, no sadness, no rage, just nothing. Maybe I'm in shutdown. Regardless, I'm not sure what's right anymore. I'm going to be saving up to move out, and if I don't have enough then I'll live in my car. He can kick me out for all I care. I can't stay anymore, not here.

Rent is insane where I live, I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to save or if I'll even achieve this goal, but I need to do something. Everyday gets worse and I can't keep waiting for another bomb to go off, or for my mother to comfort me by saying "the bomb is okay, accept it." She asked me to go a therapy session with her you know, mother daughter therapy. At first I agreed but after what she said today, she can forget it. Even after all this time, she doesn't understand. She never will.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. There is absolutely no obligation to forgive him. It's reasonable to resent him even if his behavior is related to substance abuse or whatever other excuse is given. Even if someone adequately takes accountability for their actions (which it sounds like he doesn't) you still don't have to forgive them, and it doesn't mean you aren't allowed to still feel hurt. It almost sounds like your mom is an enabler. You've seen a long pattern of violent, threatening, and hurtful behavior from your father, and so it makes sense why it's so hard to be convinced that he's something better. It's okay to not worry or even grieve if your dad passes away, especially in context. Do consider that if these violent episodes continue, it may be necessary to call the authorities, though it can definitely be easier said than done.

Although I completely understand your reasons for not wanting to go to therapy with your mom, being able to speak with a therapist could potentially help you a lot in processing these experiences and your feelings surrounding them, regardless of whether or not your mom benefits from it. It could be an opportunity to meet with that therapist individually as well, and they may be able to see the situation for what it truly is.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions feel free to add on, otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[sebsxphia]

Okay so I’m on the angsty-hurt/comfort side of my brain tonight and had a DILF!Rhett thought:

You’re late. Rhett’s confused because you’re never late. And even if you are late, you give him a heads up hours in advance. So not only is he confused, he’s worried.

So, he calls you and you don’t pick up.

He hangs up and tries again. Still no answer.

He tries two more times and my the third time you pick up.

“Rhett, oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I’m on my way right now. I didn’t expect to be l-”

“Woah, slow down, kid. You’re okay. Jus’ worried is all.”

He noted how thick your voice sounds, like you’re upset.

“Hey, is everythin’ okay?” You swallow and nod, “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ll be there in few minutes.”

When you arrive, Rhett’s waiting for you on the porch.

You apologize again and he holds his hand up, “It’s alright. Now you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You shook your head, “Nothin’s wrong.”

He takes a good look at your face and sees that it’s blotchy and red. “Really? Cause it looks like you’ve been cryin’.”

Biting your lip, you try to will the next wave of tears away.

“What’s going on, y/n?” He gently rubs your shoulders trying to look in your eyes when you look and your feet.

You take in a shuddering breath and wipe at your face, “I didn’t do well on an assignment for class…”

You knew he didn’t believe you by the fatherly sigh that left his lips, “y/n..”

You finally looked up at him and more tears came with how his blue eyes just held so much care for you in that moment.

He seemed to always look at you like that, even when he didn’t realize it.

“Tanner and I broke up…” “What? Why?” “We got into another fight-”

Rage flashed in Rhett’s eyes for a second, “Why did hurt you did he?” You shook your head, “No! No he didn’t lay a hand on me. He smarter than that.”

Rhett calmed down and brought you to sit on the porch swing and draped his arm around you.

“You’ll get past this, I’m sure.” You nodded against his shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to break up with him for awhile.”

“What was the fight about?” Rhett asked gently. “I caught him in a lie. And when I confronted him, instead of denying or apologizing he started accusing me a stuff I would never dream of doing to someone.”

Rhett just nods, knowing what you’re saying.

“But like I said, I was gonna end it anyway.” “Why?”

You look up at Rhett, once again seeing this caring, loving look that only graced his face when he looked at you or his kids.

It was a look you’d never seen before except on your own father when he look at your mother. You’d never been on the receiving end until you met Rhett.

“Because he’s not you…”

You say it hesitantly because you’re unsure of how he’d respond.

But all he does is smile and hold the side of your head before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

It was a look you’d never seen before except on your own father when he look at your mother. You’d never been on the receiving end until you met Rhett.

THIS PLUS THE ‘WHO HURT YOU’ TROPE?? SARAH!!

oh my god, i love this so much!!! soft/angst/hurt/comfort with dilf rhett seriously has a special place in my heart, because you know rhett has loved ten times more in his lifetime than you have, so you know when he looks at you like that that he means it. all he wants to do is love and comfort you, and shield you from the bad things in life.

aaaaah thank you so much for this wonderfully angsty thought my love!! 💌💖

[storytellerstarsign22]

Star Wars Midquel (Padme should have lived)

I don’t think I’m alone in not liking the prequels. I only kind of like the first one and the last one. If I could make a change to the last one, “Revenge of the Sith” I feel like Padme wouldn’t have died in childbirth. I know they wanted to do a self fulfilling prophecy sort of thing with Anakin, but honestly it makes no sense and the original concept for the first three movies was that she died of an illness when the twins were two. So why don’t we keep that?

Padme is taken to the hospital, and hooked up to machines to keep her alive, she gives birth with little difficulty, and while she is sad, she doesn’t just die because the machines are keeping her alive. So, they decide to take Padme and the twins into hiding, and spread the lie that she died in childbirth so that the Sith don’t go looking for her. They do a fake funeral with a closed casket and the Emperor lies to Anakin about her death.

So Padme is on a different planet from Naboo, being cared for by the staff since she is massively depressed after losing Anakin. She would struggle to care for her children because of her depression and they would be cared for by the staff. She would have moments where she would be happy with them and try to care for them, especially with Leia, but she would also have bad days where she wouldn’t be able to.

Eventually her health would start to decline because despite constant vigilance from the people and droids looking after her, she had let her health decline in her depressed state, and she would become ill. Then Obiwan (who, I guess was with her for awhile to look after her) considers moving the kids to hide them again if Padme were to die, so he takes Luke to live with the Skywalkers, and sends Leia to live on Alderan.

In Obi-Wans defence, I think he saw the twins as copies of their parents, since in terms of looks they look just like them. So he assumed that Leia would be better in Noble’s household, and he needed to keep an eye on Luke so Luke wouldn’t turn out like his father. Plus, Leia would be much more protected in a palace than Luke would be on a farm. Senator Bail Organa had already offered to adopt Leia when she was born, but they wanted the babies to stay with their mother.

So Obi-Wan takes the kids off world as Padme gets worse, meanwhile, Vader had been getting visions of Padme dying, which he is confused and haunted by. He first considers the, simply dreams,or memories, but the dreams are different, she looks different, she’s in a different place. He eventually figures out that Padme is still alive and that the Emperor lied to him, and he goes looking for her.

It is possible that he wouldn’t find her in time, but I would like to think that he did. He came to see her right before she died, terrifying the personnel. When Padme sees him, she is a little afraid, but she mostly doesn’t care anymore. She might be silently waiting for death to come, or she might be talking about how finally she’ll see Anakin again (most people think he died). Then she dies, and Vader is upset once again.

He starts questioning everything. He considers overthrowing the emperor, but he’d need an apprentice first, since that is the way of the Sith. He questions the power of the dark side, which hasn’t helped him save anyone, only destroyed all he loved. He might retaliate against the people there out of rage, but in the end he stays where he is, because he’s done too much bad that he believes he has no one left, he’s too far gone. He can’t run or hide, he’s too recognizable. He could try to turn against the emperor and destroy the empire, but he doesn’t want to destroy the empire, he wanted to rule it with Padme, and now she’s gone. He is loyal to his master, and decides to stay loyal to him since he is all he has left, but he probably distances himself from Palpatine after that.

And that is how “you lose the will to live” it’s a slow, painful process, not a choice you make when your tired.

[darkimpala1897]

More headcanons of my au of Chance and Eddie being brothers aka Munson brothers season four addition

The laundry basket joke was totally directed towards Chance because at home Chance uses laundry baskets that he finds around the trailer park to practice

Chance and Eddie eat together at the pinic table in the woods because Eddie doesn't usely pack his lunch he packs for Chance but not for himself because he packs drugs instead but Chance remembers to make him something

Eddie was at the prep rally but he was hiding under the bleachers because he didn't want anyone to see him and ruin his reputation

Eddie sent Steve to go to the game for him because Eddie didn't want to get out of Hellfire to sneak under the bleachers

Chance was the only one to believe that Eddie didn't kill Chrissy he actually believed his brother was kidnapped but he didn't say anything because if he did he knew his friends would turn on him

Chance had to watch as Jason beat up Gareth and Gareth is like a little brother to him he managed to convince Andy to stay and help fix up Jeff and Gareth

Chance was the one to give Lucas the idea of misleading them

Chance when they finally found Eddie didn't let go of his brother for like awhile

Chance was the one to tell them what Eddie liked food wise

Eddie was happy for once that he got to eat his food without Chance stealing it

Chance had managed to convince Jason and Andy to listen to him after Patrick died he even took them to skull rock were they spied on them Chance kept a tight grip on them so they didn't kill Eddie

Chance was the one to get them into Watergate even though Andy had a total fit about it being cold and Chance not wanting to hear it was like "come on princess don't make me drag you by your hair." And Jason also refused but Chance threw his shoe at him and that worked

Eddie had an absolute panic attack when Chance just popped through the gate he was so close to going full mother hen mode on him you don't even know

Chance and Eddie actually pretty much everyone took there rage out on the bats Andy and Steve both almost gotten eaten alive but they were alright

When Eddie threw his vest at Steve Chance stole Jason's Letterman without his permission because Chance knows Eddie gets cold

When they were trying to get in contact with the others on the other side and running around like chickens with there heads cut off Chance was already touching the werid glowing stuff with Andy because they thought it was werid and cool

Chance doesn't know how to ride a bike so he had to double ride with Eddie it was the fucking funniest thing ever especially because of how Eddie rides

Chance literally almost puked at Eddie's bed he made a mental note that he needed to do laundry

Chance was the one to get into Vecna's trance not Nancy and oh my god Eddie lost his shit he tore that trailer apart looking for Chance's Walkman and music because he was not losing his brother not like that

Chance was okay after that but Eddie still made him wear a Walkman just in case Chance saw Eddie dying Jason dying in that horrible way he saw what Andy would do to Erica and what was going to happen Hawkins he after that was determined to kill the bastard

When Eddie forgot he had a bandanna on him and didn't need a mask Chance absolutely died like laughed so hard and it made Eddie feel better hearing Chance laugh

Chance was the one to suggest the RV to steal but Eddie said it was his idea which Chance let him have because he knew that Eddie was trying to impress Steve

When Eddie said his dad taught him how to hot wire everyone looked towards Chance thinking he knew how to as well he just goes "not my father actually I don't know my father." And Eddie snickers under his breath

They used Jason's credit card to get everything at War Zone and no nobody has yet to inform him

Jason went with Lucas, Max and Erica Andy volunteered to go instead but Chance was like "no no your staying with us." And then he grabbed a hold of Jason looking right into his soul saying "please for the love of everything holy stay standing stand in once spot and don't walk around if Lucas have to tie you to chair he will." Well also tossing Lucas some rope

Chance and Eddie were on the trailer roof together Eddie playing his guitar and Chance playing his violin Eddie was honestly amazed that his little brother baby brother figured a way to play master of puppets on a violin just imagine this scene with me absolutely kick ass

When Eddie decided to use himself as a chew toy for the bats Chance let Dustin use his shoulders to get up into the upside down and those few seconds saved Eddie's life they almost lost him but they got him

The earthquake was unfortunately unavoidable because after Nancy and all of them including Andy killed Vecna the upside down it just sorta collapsed in on itself but Jason survived mostly because he listened and Eddie survived because of his brother

Gareth took in Eddie and Chance intill they had a new trailer and intill Eddie was healed

Bonus headcanon

Eddie graduated with Chance, Andy and Jason Eddie was a total mom that day taking pictures of Chance and his friends well Steve was taking pictures of Eddie obviously

That is it for now, I'm definitely gonna write the Munson brothers and post it on Ao3 eventually I promise but this is my new canon for the dumpster fire that was stranger things season four imao.