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dancingtotuyo · 11 months ago

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Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 6

Rating: Mature

Warnings: discussions and illusions to noncon, grooming, child bride, and teenage pregnancy, truama, anxiety. This fic deals with alot of delicate topics, please let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: shoutout to my not on tumblr friend Ashley for beta reading! I love you so much!

Words: 5016

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry May 2, 1994

We’re celebrating Birthdays this year. Big ones with balloons and music and people- whoever the kids want to invite…

I can do this.

Javier felt like a teenager picking a girl up for a date every time he tapped on the front door. He wasn’t sure why exactly, Jaime and Anna never seemed surprised to see him, nor did they question his repeated appearances in their home and around their dinner table. In fact, each time he knocked, it came with the reminder that he didn’t need to do so. He could just walk in willy nilly any time he pleased. He still knocked.

He and Emily spent a couple nights a week in one another’s company between Alejandra’s riding lessons and his visits to their house. Their budding friendship was something he treasured. He still didn’t understand why she picked him to trust, but he understood the weight of that trust. He wanted to be worthy of it, and slowly, he was starting to believe he might be.

Mostly, it felt good to have a friend. Javier wasn’t sure he’d had one in a long time. There was Steve he supposed, but he was back in Miami now. He called once a month to talk. Steve usually ended up talking about Olivia for 15 minutes, dancing around his continued employment with the DEA while Javier gave him one-word responses. He refused Steve’s invitation to visit each time.

He knocked a second time. Still no answer. He could hear music thrumming inside. Javier sighed, squaring his shoulders as he twisted the door knob. It gave way.

Music played loudly throughout the house. Alejandra squealed, rushing by Javier in a fit of screams and wet curls. Jaime chased after her. Miguelito jumped on the couch shirtless and dancing. Mateo rushed out of the bathroom bare as the day he was born and down the hall, as Emily emerged holding a towel. Water soaked her front. He chuckled to himself, toeing his shoes off. No one seemed to take notice of his presence yet, too engrossed in their own activities. Javi had heard of the chaos of bath night, the event the family had turned it into, but had yet to witness it until tonight.

“Mami! Look!” Miguelito called. She turned to catch sight of her oldest child jumping into the air, hitting a pose as he did before landing on his feet rocking a little to catch his balance.

“Bravo!” Emily said, shouting over the music and Alejandra continued squeals. “9/10. You gotta stick the landing, mijo.”

“I’ll keep practicing.”

Emily gave him a thumbs up. Javier chuckled as her eyes finally reached him. Surprise flashed across her features before a soft smile overtook it. She held up a hand, fingers wiggling in hello.

Javier raised his own hand with a grin. Emily held up a single finger as if to say give me a minute then followed Mateo down the hall.

By the time Emily made her resurgence, Javier had been pulled into Ale and Jaime’s intense game of cat and mouse. Miguelito joined in, wrapping his limbs around his grandpa’s leg to slow him down as Alejandra climbed up Javier’s back for safety as she shouted out directions on how to avoid her Abuelo. It was utter chaos and confusion and Javier enjoyed every second being let into the family’s little tradition.

There was a certain intimacy to these moments. He didn’t just have access, but open access, an invitation to open the door anytime he desired and be welcomed into their home and whatever was happening.

“Alright, you two, time to get your teeth brushed!” Emily said.

A chorus of groans rose between the two. Javier swung around to face her, a pout forming on his lips as if he was going to join in with the children’s protest. Emily’s eyes narrowed at him as if to say don’t you dare.

Before he had the chance, Jaime interrupted it. “Come on you two. If we get this done quick, I bet I can fish up an old story for y’all. How does that sound?”

“Sweet!” Miguelito hopped up, giving Javier a high-five, and crashing into his mother with his arms stretched wide.

Emily let out a grunt, lips pressing to her eldest child’s forehead as she tousselled his freshly dried curls. “You’re gonna knock me over one of these days, Kiddo. Te amo.”

He grinned back in response, kissing her cheek. “Te amo, Mami.” He said, flying toward his room.

Alejandra wrapped her arms tighter around Javier's neck, cutting off his airflow for a second. “Not so tight, Alejandrina.” He said in Spanish without a second thought.

She instantly loosened her grip, responding in the same language. “I’m sorry!”

Something tugged at Emily’s heart at the quick exchange. Spanish and English were used interchangeably within their home. She knew it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but having another person come into their home and speak it felt intimate, like he was acclimating into their family, and she liked it. Something bloomed in her chest, but she tucked it away to discover another day.

“Buenas noches, Mr. Javi.” Alejandra said, kissing his cheek before she slid down his back.

“Buenas noches.” He smiled, watching her run toward her mother.

“Mami, I want you to tuck me in. Not Abuelo.”

“I suppose I can manage that.” Emily winked at her, ushering the girl down the hall.

She looked back at Javier who motioned toward the back door, letting her know that’s where he would be. She nodded before following Ale.

Alejandra only required a few minutes of her mother’s time which Emily was more than happy to give. The bedtime routine was something she’d always treasured, drawing it out when they were in Mexico. It was one of the few things she had almost always been able to do- get it together enough to wish her kids goodnight, ensuring her face was the last they saw before shutting their eyes. She stopped in the boys’ room next to grant final sweet dreams and kisses.

When the kids were settled, Emily followed Javier’s steps outside. She settled next to him on her swing. Their shoulders brushed and thighs pressed against each other. It came almost as second nature to her now. There were no jumps or anxiety when they touched. In fact, she found slices of comfort in it. Yet, Javier hadn’t tried to hold her hand or touch her knee since December even as their friendship progressed.

“Your shirt is wet.”

Emily looked down at the damp mass of fabric sticking to her stomach. “Yeah…Mateo still enjoys surprise splash attacks, and Alejandra can’t hold still when I wash her hair. I really should start doing that in the sink.”

Javier chuckled. “Let me know if you get cold. We can go inside.”

She shrugged. “It’s warm tonight.”

He nodded, head falling back with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette, right now.” He’d stopped smoking two weeks ago. The longest two weeks of his life.

“Long day?”

“Fence got washed out with the storm again. I spent all day fixing it.”

“Watching the boats,” she finished.

Javier opened an eye almost in annoyance. He wanted them to not annoy him. He wanted to forget all about the drug war and the cocaine coming across the border in waves, but he couldn’t. It was like an obsession. Escobar was dead, but he knew if he looked it up, he’d find that just as much, if not more, cocaine was still smuggled into the US.

“You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you, Javier.”

“Why doesn’t it bother you?”

She takes a deep breath, rolling the thought over in her mind. There are a lot of things that bother her, a lot of things that trigger her, but seeing those boats wasn’t one of them. “I don’t know.” Emily shrugs. “Maybe because I was so far removed from that aspect of things. Because maybe they’re just pawns in the grand scheme of things… like I was.”

Javier picks his head back up, looking at her straight on. He’d seen many people taken advantage of in the drug war, seen people killed. He used to think that everyone involved had a choice, but the longer the war raged on, the more people he met, and the more people who died, he started to think differently. Even the people who “had a choice” didn’t really, not the lowest on the totem pole or their bosses even, and not those struggling in the communas. Despite all this, the boats still bothered him.

“Why does it bother you?”

Javier swallowed, contemplating it. He wasn’t sure he had an answer, at least not one he was proud of or willing to admit to, not even to himself. Then, there was the offer from the DEA to go back. The offer came in a week ago. They wanted him to take down The Cali Cartel, even offered him a bigger salary with a fancier title. More important to Javier, it was a do-over, a chance to do things the right away. He hadn’t told anyone about the offer yet.

“Next topic,” he shot her a grin, but Emily saw through it. She found the flashes of pain in his big brown eyes, and she let it go. Far be it for her to force someone to talk about a painful time in their life.

“You’re not as fun since you quit smoking.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Withdrawl’s a bitch.”Javier chuckled, bouncing his shoulder against hers.

She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Hey, you’re coming to Miguelito’s birthday party on Saturday, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Javier gazed at the stars above. “He’s turning 10, right?”

“Yeah,” Emily said, wrapping her arms around herself. “A whole decade.”

Javier caught the trail of her voice. She wasn’t distracted by the details of balloons and cake and presents. No, this was something else. Javier wished he was insightful enough to guess what exactly she was thinking of, but he didn’t know enough. She’d only scratched the surface of the nightmares of her life. He knew she was back in Mexico. He saw it in the rigidness of her shoulders and the distance in her eyes in the fading dusk.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees in an attempt to catch her eyes. He eased his thigh away from her cautious of potential triggers.

“Don’t.” Her hand shot out, landing inside his knee.

Javier furrowed his brow as she turned to meet his eyes. He still saw the glazed-over look in her eyes like she wasn’t seeing him, but pictures from her past. Her nails raked nervously against his denim jeans, against his thigh. She chewed her lip, balancing the precarious line between worlds.

His thigh eased back against hers slowly- delicately. As the warmth seeped back in, some of the tension released from her rigid frame, but her hand stayed glued to his thigh.

“Each year, I realize a little more how young I actually was.”

“You were 16?”

“Not even.”

Javier’s eyes widened. Emily managed to catch it through the fog. Tears shone in her eyes. Javier fought the urge to wipe them away. He forgot how young she was when it started- how young she still was.

“I got pregnant so fast. He was born a couple weeks before my 16th birthday.”

Emily nails caught on the seam of denim, but Javier paid it no mind. He only focused on her. “Seems like it makes birthdays a lot harder.”

She nodded. “I hope they don’t see it. I never want them to see it.”

Javier held out his hand in a gentle offering. She took it. He smiled and squeezed her hand trying to push out the way he missed her touch on his thigh. Her eyes cleared a bit. His thumb ran back and forth over her knuckle. “All I see when you look at those kids is how much you adore them.”

Emily's lips tipped up in a soft smile. “Thank you, Javi.”

“Anything you need this weekend, just tell me. I’m all yours.”

Something squeezed at his heart as he spoke the words. Hers. While he didn’t understand it, she liked having him around, and he would stay around as long as she allowed. If he ever were to atone for his sins, maybe here was where he started.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re signing up for. This is a birthday. It’s a big deal.” Emily laughed. Her hand slipped from his. “And it’s a 10th birthday party. It’s an especially big deal.”

“I am at your disposal, Darlin.”

Emily bit her lip. She knew what she wanted, but could she really ask for it? Was she really truly bringing another person into her safety net? It felt almost like a dream.

“There is one thing- it might sound strange.”

“You may have more to tell me that might be strange, but I promise, Musteña. This probably isn’t it.”

Emily’s brows furrowed at the new nickname, but she managed to stay on task. “Come early? Stay close to me the whole time?” She took a deep breath. It felt weird to ask him for help, but good. “Miguelito invited his whole class and then some. There’s going to be a lot of people and-”

“Done.” He answered without hesitation.

“Really?”

“It’s not a strange request at all, Musteña.”

Emily cocked her head to the side. “You’re making me feel like I haven’t spoken Spanish most of my life, Javier.”

Javier shrugged, a smile playing off his lips. “It’s an older word, not used very often, but ranchers and cowboys used to use it to describe a wild horse.”

“So a mustanga?”

“No- not exactly. Musteña is a horse who was tamed and branded.” The breeze caught one of her curls. Javier’s fingers itched to tuck it back, but he resisted. “But broke free and became wild again.”

Emily would be lying if she said it didn’t send an unfamiliar thrill through her veins. She’d noticed these moments here and there where it felt like the air between her and Javier shifted. Where a tug pulled her toward him a little more, they were brief and fleeting, never lasting long enough for her to think more of them.

Javier, however, hung on each of those moments. Those moments made him feel truly alive, like he only existed in their shared spaces, waiting on the edge of his seat for it to happen again. He did his best to shove those moments into the recesses of his brain. He chose not to dwell on them when he could help it, but he’d noticed himself pulling them up more and more frequently as he and Emily learned more about each other. She made him want to be better, not only for her but for himself.

“That is very profound, Peña.” Emily smiled, her head leaning toward him. “Flattering even.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” His lips tipped up. “I’m capable of deep thoughts from time to time.”

“I know you are.” Emily winked, easing back against the swing, breaking eye contact. She expected the tension to break then, but it lingered under the surface this time, spiking her heart rate. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or anxiety or the fine line between them.

“What are your plans for your birthday then?” Javier said.

“What?”

“You said your birthday is coming up. What are your plans?”

“I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

“You just said birthdays are a big deal.”

“Yeah, except mine-”

“Not this year.”

“Javier-”

“Nope- We’re going out. We’re going to celebrate.”

“Oh yes, because taking me to be around a lot of strangers sounds like a fantastic idea.”

“I never said I was going to do that to you.” Javier winks, big brown eyes shimmering with mischief. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“But you’re up to something.”

“Doesn’t matter what I’m up to ‘cause you trust me.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m beginning to regret that decision.”

Javier laughed. “There’s no going back now.

On Saturday, Javier arrived at the Kuykendall residence two hours before the party was set to begin. He picked up the helium balloons on his way into town and an extra gallon of ice cream at Emily’s request.

Javier didn’t bother with the front door when he arrived, following the many voices of the Kuykendall brood through the back gate. Jaime had all three children helping him carry cups and plates and utensils to the folding tables. Blue table clothes flapped in the wind. Streamers adorned the fence that enclosed the yard.

“Mr. Javi!” Alejandra squealed, rushing toward him the moment she laid eyes on him, her stack of party plates haphazardly tossed on the table.

“Good morning.”

“Look at all those balloons!”

“Enough to make you fly away, Alejandrina..” He chuckled, tying the bundle securely around her wrist.

“And enough chocolate ice cream for all of us!” Miguelito yelled, eagerly taking the large container.

“Straight to your Abuela,” Jaime instructed, bringing up the rear. “No pit stops.” He stared down his grandson who laughed mischievously.

Javier locked eyes with Jaime, “I’m guessing a pit stop is the reason for the ice cream?”

Jaime nodded. “Yesterday was quite the day in the Kuykendall household.”

“Em?”

Jaime pointed to the far comer of the backyard where his daughter kneeled next to the flower beds, hands buried in the dirt. “Helps calm her.”

Javier nodded, taking her in.

“But so do you.”

Javier’s eyes snapped to his friend’s. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but was unable to find anything of value across Jaime’s face.

Anna called out for her husband, pulling Jaime away. Javier took a steading breath. Walking over, he kneeled next to her picking up on her quiet mumbles. She wasn’t saying anything coherent, a jumbled mix of English and Spanish, but he heard it in her voice, the anxiety raging inside.

“Hey.”

Emily’s head snapped toward him. “I think this is a mistake. I’m not ready for all these people.”

Javier’s head cocked to the side. He held out his hand. She stared at it before placing her dirt-covered hand in his.

Javie’s face crinkled, fingers beginning to work into her palms. “You couldn’t wear gloves.”

“I like feeling the dirt under my hands. It’s cool.” She said, “It calms me.”

Javier’s hands continued, moving up and down her fingers. Javier watched as her shoulders began to drop. “I’ve got you, Em. The whole day.”

“Promise?” She let out a deep breath.

“Promise.” Javier winked, pulling a smile to her lips.

“Okay,” Emily said, rising to her feet. “This doesn’t need to be done right now.”

“Looks beautiful.” Javier’s eyes never traveled to the flower bed.

Emily’s brow pinched together for a brief second. Javier swallowed, not sure where the words came from. Hands brushed against his jeans, dirt spilling back to the earth.

“I should go get changed,” Emily said, glancing down at her clothes.

“Want me to stand outside the door?”

She laughed, head falling back. It made Javier smile. “I think I’ll be okay, but I appreciate the offer.”

Emily and Javier stood in the backyard as people filed in. People Emily recognized from parent pick-ups and other school events, but didn’t know. She seldom talked to other parents. There were two she could say she knew. The mother of Miguelito’s best friend and the mother of Ale & Mateo’s best friends.

“Mami!” Alejandra called. “When’s Jackie getting here?”

“Any minute, Mija.”

“I’m here, Alejandrina. You can play with me.” Javier said with a teasing lilt.

Alejandra rolled her eyes. “But you’re not Jackie.” She crossed her arms, hip jutted out.

Javier mimicked her stance, which wasn’t that different from his usual one. “But I’m just as cool.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yu-huh,” Javier shot back. Emily stifled a laugh.

“Nu-uh.” Ale upped the sass, nearly breaking Javier’s straight face.

“I thought we were-”

“Jackie!” Alejandra gasped, cutting him off as she darted toward the gate in pursuit of her best friend.

“Well, I feel like chopped liver.” Javier said, smoothing down his mustache as he watched Ale embrace a little girl about her height.

“Don’t take it personally, No one can compare with Jackie.” Emily laughed, nudging his arm. “Not even you.”

“And here I thought I was her favorite person.”

Emily laughed.“I’m gonna go say hi to her parents.”

“Oh, so you actually know this kid’s parents?”

Emily rolled her eyes, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Javier smiled back. She looked the most at ease he’d seen her all day. “Believe it or not, I know more people than just you.”

“But I’m still your only friend right?”

“You jealous, Javier?”

Javier rolled his eyes, sipping on the beer in his hand, hanging back to watch her cross the lawn. Emily raised a hand in greeting as an adult emerged through the gate, but his focus stayed on her watching for any signs of discomfort in the sea of people surrounding them.

“Lorraine!” Emily called.

Javier held the beer in his mouth, shifting his eyes to the newcomers. In the milliseconds it took his brain to process the scene, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t possible, that he was jumping to conclusions. Yet he didn’t even need to see her face to know it was her, HIS Lorraine. His heart rate kicked up a gear. It wasn’t that he still had feelings for her. Those were long gone. It was that she represented everything he’d walked away from 10 years ago and now, she smiled at Emily with familiarity.

Without thought, his feet carried him toward them. Lorraine greeted Emily with a smile and wave and nothing more. So they knew each other well enough that Lorraine knew not to offer physical touch. Despite the obvious comfort Emily displayed with his ex-fiance, he couldn’t help but join her side like a guard dog protecting what belonged to him.

Randy held out his hand, appearing harmless enough, but Javier caught the tension cut through her like a knife. Javier joined Emily’s side just in time to intercept the gesture. He plastered an obnoxious grin on his face, taking Randy’s hand with more force than necessary. “Randy, it’s good to see you again.”

Emily startled at the unusual pitch of his voice. Lorraine’s eyes widened.

“Javi,” Lorraine said in shock.

Randy’s brow furrowed as he let the man shake his hand. “Javier.”

He turned to Lorraine, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Lorraine.”

Emily glanced between them. She suddenly felt out of the loop, a stranger in her own backyard. “Y’all know each other?”

Randy’s arm slid around his wife’s waist staring Javier down. His demeanor changed instantly. Emily sensed the tension seeping in, picking up on the pissing match going on between the men.

“Something like that.” Lorraine gave Javier a once-over. He still wore that animated grin that looked alien to Emily. “How do the two of you know each other?”

“We’re friends,” Javier said.

A loud snort left Lorraine’s body. Javier’s eyes snapped to her, dropping his facade. She tried to cover it with a cough, but only left Emily more confused as Lorraine refused to look her way.

“There’s plenty of food on the tables over there. Feel free to help yourselves.” Emily forced a smile, tucking her hands into her front pockets.

“Thanks,” Lorraine said, beginning to pull Randy away with her. “We’ll talk later.”

Randy’s eyes stayed locked on Javier until he was forced to look away. Emily glanced between the two men before squaring up with Javier. “What the fuck was that?” She smacked his shoulder, catching Javier off guard.

“Huh?”

“How do you know Lorraine?”

Javier sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Emily folded her arms across her chest. “It’s a long story-”

“A long story or one you don’t want to tell? Cause Randy looked at you like he wanted you six feet under.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I may or may not have left Lorraine on our wedding day.”

“You had a fiance?” Emily’s jaw dropped. “And you left her at the fucking alter?”

“Well, I never made it to the church-”

“How have you never told me about this?”

“It never really came up.”

Emily looked up at him as if to say really?

Javier felt his defenses rise slightly. “Not really the proudest moment of my life.”

“Yes, because that’s the worst thing you’ve ever done.” Emily fought back the teasing grin emerging on her face. “You had a whole ass fiance and didn’t tell me.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew her.”

“How was I supposed to tell you I knew your ex-fiance when you didn’t tell me you had one?”

Javier brushed it off. “You didn’t tell me you had other friends.”

“You are jealous!”

“I’m sorry if I don’t like that my best friend is friends with my ex-fiance.”

“Best friend?” Emily’s eyes went wide as she succumbed to the smile.

Javier swallowed as if he realized what he actually said. He hadn’t really come up with the thought before, but looking over their relationship, he knew it was the truth. Other than his father, there was no one he spent more time with. His friends from before had moved on with life. Most of them were married now as he lived the life as an eternal bachelor. A reputation he’d owned since he left Lorraine at the wedding chapel.

He rolled his eyes, shaking it off. He needed to spend the night at a bar with some buddies. Maybe some from his days on the force. “Don’t let it go to your head now.”

“Too late. I know about your ex-fiance now. You can’t get rid of me.”

“You still gonna be friends with her?”

“Only to bother you.” Emily teased. “And because our kids are best friends.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to talk to Ale about that one.”

“Oh, don’t be a grump.” Emily bumped her shoulder against his.

Javier narrowed his eyes at her, but he couldn’t keep it up. She was enjoying this. She looked relaxed and comfortable, and she was standing closer than normal. Close enough he caught a whiff of her perfume, a scent he typically only caught when they sat shoulder to shoulder in the backyard. He wanted to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her flush against him like they were a couple or something. He wanted Lorraine to know that Emily was his.

“Javier?”

“What?” He snapped from his thoughts.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Emily’s eyes had softened from their teasing gleam to one of empathy. “If you don’t want to be around Lorraine and Randy- I understand.”

“No,” It rushed from his mouth before he could think of something better to say. “No, we’re all adults. That was 10 years ago. I want to be here.”

Emily smiled. “Good.”

Lorraine kept her distance from Emily throughout the afternoon, mostly to avoid Javier. However, Emily caught Lorraine’s eye on them more than once.

It wasn’t until Emily slipped inside that Lorraine approached him, the same subtle smirk painted on her lip that he always remembered. “How is it you always seem to show up, Javi?”

His hand fell to his hip, the other one reaching for the pack of cigarettes that no longer sat in his shirt pocket. He wanted to bang his head against the wall. “I was here first.”

Lorraine flipped her own pack open. “Want one?”

“I quit a few weeks ago.” Javi pulled the Nicorette gum from his shirt pocket, holding it up for her to see.

Lorraine’s eyebrows popped up. “Well, miracles do exist. Guess that makes you better than me now.” She lit her cigarette. “But really.. What are you doing here?”

“I’m a friend of the family.”

“And that’s why you’ve been glued to Emily’s side the whole morning.”

“She asked me to keep close.”

“Emily who jumps every time a man comes near her? Asked you? To keep close?”

Javier bristled. Lorraine’s tone bothered him. Like she thought he wasn’t worthy of Emily’s time, or was playing some kind of game with her. “Does it shock you that much to know I have friends?”

She took a pull from her cigarette, letting it billow over her head. “Let’s be real, Javi. You don’t have the reputation for being friends with women.”

“It’s been a long time since I was here. Things change.” It was bullshit. Javier had built himself the same legend back in Colombia, but Lorraine didn’t know that. Loredo didn’t know that.

Lorraine quirked an eyebrow, suspicion reading in her face. “That’s what they say.”

Javier clenched his fists, looking for a way out of the conversation. Jackie called out for her mom, pulling the woman’s attention away for a brief moment. Before Lorraine left, she left him with final words. “Just don’t hurt her.”

Javier sipped his beer, knuckles white around the bottle. The snide comments hurt, but the woman he left at the chapel voicing his biggest fears pierced through all his defenses. It was a targeted assault at the only chink in his armor.

The back door slid open. “Hey,” Emily’s smiling face peaked out “Can you help me with the cake?”

He didn’t respond, finishing off his beer as he looked out across the yard. He took in the festivities, feeling oddly removed from them.

“Javier?” Emily cocked her head to the side. He spun around wearing a look of disinvolvement. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Emily didn’t believe him, concern lacing her brow.

“I’m good.” He tossed the empty beer bottle, clapping his hands together with a forced smile. “Let’s get this cake out.”

He brushed past her, leaving Emily to wonder how he ever survived Colombia with such a shit poker face.

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thymejot · 20 days ago

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Since the moment of Nickys birth, Agatha has been using Rio. She used her as a scapegoat from her own complex emotions. She then projects all her pain, her overwhelming loss, her guilt, and her feeling of responsibility for his death onto Rio as well.

Because Rio is death, an immutable immovable object that can take all the hits Agatha throws at her. All the sharpened barbs made to lay waste to anyone else, anyone weaker.

Agatha knows exactly how much to twist the knife to have the most impact.

She knows Rio will take every drop of her rancour, every ounce of her self-loathing, every rend Agatha can inflict. Then, in a few days or months, Rio will be there once more full of fervour with a flower in hand.

So when Agatha makes the deal with Rio to give up Billy in exchange for Rio never darkening her doorstep again. She never ever thought that this would be the final push that would cause death to falter.

Rio has for so long been a physical embodiment of Agatha's external self hatred that the moment that Rio agrees, it all falls apart.

The safety Agatha had in her hatred of Rio crumbles, and all that is left is the realisation that the one person left on this earth that truly understood her pain, that loved all that she was had finally given up on her.

As Rio walks away, you can see the disbelief, her hurt and the utter terror of losing Rio forever hit her. So, this right here is the exact moment when Agatha's fate was sealed.

Because Agatha is so deeply selfish.

The final act of reneging on the deal, pulling Rio into her arms, drawing death into herself, was never about saving Billy.

This was as close to supplication as Agatha is capable of. There is no universe in which Agatha ever says the words 'sorry'.

This was forgive me. I love you. I want you.

This was, I will bury myself so deep into you that you will never be able to truly be rid of me. I will drink the poison of your lips while filling you so full to the brim with me so that I fully cement myself inside you. You will carry the weight of me with you until there is nothing left but ashes and the taste of my lips on yours.

Rio crumbles under the deluge of it all. She takes it all in. She is so full of Agatha that she never truly sees what is happening until it is already over.

The immutable unchanging death finally faltered twice in as many hours. Once more, Agatha proves that she is not Rio's scar, but the torn open bleeding heart of her

No wonder Rio did not have it in her to collect Agathas soul

Even in her most hated form, a world with Agatha in it is a world with hope for Rio. Agatha will weasel her way out of final death, and when she does, Rio will be waiting with fervour and a flower. Like always

#i rambled in someones tags about this but wanted to articulate is mre here #because that kiss was many things #but it was not agatha giving #she will not go gracefully into that final sleep she will manipulate and cajole and bargain until she rises again #and she will do it with style and pizazz and scathing wit #this kiss is so many things #yes it is agatha taking a gamble #but is was always something much deeper too #agatha all along spoilers #agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #vidarkness

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iyohme · 2 months ago

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and i know that you mean so well;

but i am not a vessel for your good intent!

("Tongues and Teeth," - The Crane Wives)

my serotonin got jetpack bursted into the stratosphere with this blurb by OP. Your brain is so juicy and moist and wrinkly OP. Godspeed. I'm not even into DC but the whole "Burnt out and neglected, and now a bunch of people driven by guilt guilt guilt want me back so they can feel less guilty?" just made the racoon in me rub its hands menacingly hoho

Just imagine not even living your best life; just a shadow in the lives of the illustrious Waynes, a ghost in a castle, visible only to the loyal servant and the occasional curious paparazzi who shrugs and looks away--after all, there was no mention of you in any occasion: must be the kid of in-house staff. How nice of Brucie Wayne to allow even the children of in-house staff the opportunity to study at such a high-end college! (The reporters chortle and snicker at your barely-passing marks, sighing at such a wasted opportunity. Oh well. And then they move on to the tabloid topic of the week, after the strutting socialites and the rich and the arrested Rogues.)

You gather things.

You gather pieces of a cracked dream, a single plastic teacup you had brought into the cavernous mansion the day you held Alfred's old, gnarled hand. Ears ringing and slippers still stained with your parent's blood as they were gunned down before your very eyes. You gather your things, what made you before you were "Wayne," so to say. Your mother's old cigarette box, smuggled from the crime scene, your one memento of the woman who you could not forget but never forgive.

A juxtaposition of love and hate, forever crucified. The image of the Virgin Mary inside the tin box seems to be a mockery of faith, across from her image lying cheap cigarettes.

You gather test papers, all barely passing and with more reds than blacks, and grind them up into strips with the shredder you had brought; just one time the black card Wayne had given you, and it left the bitterest, sourest aftertaste in your mouth. They burn so cozily on the school Bunsen burners, especially when sprayed with alcohol, immediately immolating like timelapse sparkler videos. You gather your name before the Incident, you cherish it, and you repeat the syllables in the dead of night, spilling past your mouth. Even if it was the name of a child-abusing monster, it was still yours, and it was still of use.

And use it, you would.

While they go and be a family, you work to begin yours.

You gather funds: it's easy to take on odd jobs when people do not suspect you. You tuck away that black card at the bottom of your study table drawers, forgotten there like scribbled-out pages of an essay, an unfinished drawing, and leftover candy wrappers. It's a bit-by-bit work, but you know the Waynes wouldn't even see it happening. Your brothers and sisters (an absurdly alien concept, as they don't even acknowledge you exist ninety-five percent of the time) are prodigies paraded around at every event. You are the unseen ghost flitting through their shadows.

Graduation comes and goes. It's laughably easy to falsify having lost your social security number and other documents--Gotham is that much of a shithole, you suppose. The man in the cowl notwithstanding. His efforts are admirable, but weak. Recidivism is common in this place, as if there were some sort of pull that incited the people in Gotham to cruelty, to madness.

It's absurdly Lovecraftian, in its own way.

You are not even living your best life, and yet you are free. Alfred knows; he always knows. If you are The Ghost, then the aged butler is a man one step between the doors of death, and he sees you every time you move. Your room is empty, and he raises an eyebrow at your satchel: all your items already stored elsewhere or given away.

("I suppose this was a long time coming, Little Master."

Tap tap tap. Footsteps on marble floors, setting sun.

You shrug. "Eh. The Waynes gave me a roof and education. It's all good."

You grunt. "Well, people change. Like you know, how kids being gifted stop being gifted when they grow older." You say, instead of 'Well, if a child doesn't get any praise or attention if they do good and probably even less if they were bad, why even bother?')

A pause. "Your academics were not so lackluster when you were younger."

You promise to try and stay in touch. (You crossed your fingers behind your back.) You leave, sunset on your face.

The nap you had in a dingy hotel with far too many odd stains and not enough locks you could put on was the soundest you've ever slept in years.

Freedom smells like summer air and the last rays of sun, followed by the cold blue hour.

It takes three months for an out-of-state college to accept you. It's far from Gotham. It has a dormitory. Excellent. While you were indeed a mediocre academic student, you had banked everything on band scholarships.

Who knew more than a hundred clarinet players had unclaimed scholarships yearly? Packing up your small life in bags, you take a train upwards to another state.

(Meanwhile, in Gotham, there is an odd sense of unease as Bruce Wayne stops by an inconspicuous door. It's relatively clean, as expected of his manor, but the worn out brass on the handle suggests that someone had lived there before. He opens the door. Steps in. A bed, a dresser, a study table. Bare bones.

The unease intensifies. But who?)

Someone had lived in here, yes.

#yandere batfam #YEAHOOOOOOO #wrote this instead of sleeping #FUCKING HELL #I HAVE WORK TOMORROW #dc x reader #yandere batfam x reader #anyways hmmmmmmm #my crack scenario here is reader moves into gravity falls and becomes honorary pines because you KNOW the pines are all about that found fa #reader becomes the new Mystery Shack employee; shenanigans ensue and they heal bit by bit with Pines Exposure Therapy #Meanwhile Bruce in Gotham is getting the most deadpan scathing commentary from Alfred he's received in years. One child he had forgotten;#a child who had become so skilled in hiding and pretending that even /he; BATMAN/ did not pick up on them. Even /Damian/ hasn't #and dude is a born and bred apex assassin which says a LOT about reader's skills. Dick is all wincey and guilty and hand-wringy #probs rooting around the room for clues and evidence of what kind of person this mystery sibling was again.

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asha-mage · 16 days ago

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Metaphor: reFantazio really stares you dead in the eye and says 'democracy is not some magical system that ensures moral good. Even if you could take away all the barriers and practical difficulties, even if you could guarantee beyond a shadow of a doubt that the entire nation voted, and the vote could not be tampered with, and that it was a genuine expression of their true belief of who was most fit to rule with no other concerns taken into consideration- that still would not keep people from elevating strongmen and demagogues and tyrants. Their is no promise that the 'will of the people' will always be the most moral, the most practical, or the most wise choice. People are short sighted and easily swayed and ruled by their biases and instincts, and more then that they often lack the time energy and understanding to make the most wise choice.'

And then as you are staring into the black void of hopelessness it keeps going and says 'And that's okay. People have lived beneath unjust, imperfect systems since the dawn of civilization. All these things, from Republics, to Theocracies, to Monarchies, to Dictatorships- they are all human creations and so reflect human flaws. It's okay. It doesn't mean you stop living, stop helping other people, stop trying to do the best for those you care for. It doesn't absolve you of your duties and responsibilities to others. Dream of a better world, and do what you can for the people you can and you might just make the world a better place, the same way everyone throughout history has- one day a time, and one choice after another.'

#m:rf #m:rf meta #metaphor: refantazio #metaphor refantazio #I am having A Lot Of Feelings About This Game #Beating it post election was deeply deeply cathadric and also weirdly freeing #it hit at the exact time I needed it most #it's a scathing criticism of the idea of democracy #without being cynical or hopeless about it #and that helped me work through my feelings hopelessness and cynicism #real life stuff #us politics

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recareels · 26 days ago

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okay an absolutely deranged and downright ludicrous thought but i am just,, giggling so badly to myself at the thought of mr. reca rating your sexual performance out of five stars literally every single time you engage in anything intimate with him.

and it’s not just a single, simple ‘four stars’; it’s a whole goddamn critics review as if he is analyzing and dissecting a film; what he liked, what he didn’t, where you shine, where you could improve, techniques he believes were ‘overused’, methods he thinks you could’ve incorporated to make things more exciting, interesting, or unpredictable, the pacing and rhythm, suggested approaches for ‘future performances’, etc etc etc.

he may even encourage you to do the same to him, too—consistently and constantly dedicated to ever-improving his art, he wants to hear your feedback, he wants to incorporate your criticisms, and he wants you to do the same. these physical acts of love are, after all, tiny masterpieces your bodies and souls come together to create, and no two are exactly alike; that’s something special, that’s something magical. they absolutely must be taken seriously and treated as such.

#mr reca x reader #mr reca x you #mr reca smut #this is killing me because he really does seem like the type to do shit like this #and not just with sex but with ANYTHING #like as a character he borders on *silly* enough that i rly do think this is a possibility #or at least not super far-fetched #now obviously with you—his lover and the light of his life—he would be less scathing than he is on set or when dissecting a real film #but he is 100% using his sugary sweet condescending voice #just so fucking patronizing with his cooing suggestions #syrup dripping off his words etc #anyway sex as a collaborative art form!!!!!!!#and he is *constantly* striving for perfection #inky.reca #clari’s crack thoughts

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kelluinox · 9 months ago

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Oh are people mad at JKR again and calling out her antisemitism? That's funny. No, it is! It's funny when people suddenly care about antisemitism after these 5 months we've had. It's funny when people who threw a grand ol party on October 7th suddenly care about being antisemitic. It's funny when the people who called the kidnapping and rape and largest massacre of Jewish people since the Holocaust justified resistance... suddenly care about the Holocaust. It's funny to hear their "very angry very loud very righteous outrage against antisemitism" when they have:

1) said and done nothing about the hostages being held by Hamas, among which there is a baby and a 4 yo and women being subjected to sexual torture

2) done nothing to pressure the embarrassment called the Red Cross to pass vital medicine to the hostages and actually do its job

3) have gone full Holocaust denial with their denial of the 7th... despite eagerly sharing videos of Shani Louk and Naama Levy and Noa Argamani and the Nova Festival massacre as it was happening, asking Hamas to film their slaughter horizontally and calling victims "hipsters" as the massacre was actually happening

4) called for the murder and expulsion of half the world's jews from the Levant, labeling them all colonizers despite us being indigenous... which is ironic because they certainly don't seem eager to move their own ass and go back to wherever they came from (looking at you Americans, Canadians, Australians - shut the fuck up you hypocritical bitches)

5) attacked, and harassed, and bullied, and even murdered jews all over the world since the 7th. Jewish students were told to hide in the attic from an angry mob, have been unable to walk to class without verbal or physical attacks, have been unable to mourn the biggest massacre of jews since the Holocaust, have had posters of the kidnapped jews that they put up torn down, have had all their attempts at talks about antisemitism and peace derailed and have even been unable to wear their magen david without harassment. Jewish business have been targeted and defaced. And Paul Kessler and Samantha Woll were murdered. Murdered!

6) refused to listen to jews about antisemitism and have eagerly repeated antisemitic conspiracy theories as old as the middle ages like the gullible bigoted little idiots that they are: Jews control the media by distracting Americans from Gaza by using Spotify Wrapped, the Superbowl, and making a Stop Jewish Hate ad (wow do I 'love' it when Americans make fun of their own intelligence by admitting that they're so easily distracted). Jews poison wells - they poison Palestinian land. Jews steal Christian kids and drink their blood - Jews kidnap blond Palestinian children and steal organs from Palestinian corpses. Jews love killing and are bloodthirsty monsters - Jews intentionally target civilians, have killed 0 terrorists whatsoever, and are rubbing their hands in glee watching mass starvation unfold. Oh, and they also do all this on Ramadan because they're evil like that. Beyond that we also have had: Jewish doctors are not to be trusted - straight out Stalin's doctor's plot. And Zionists are racists - straight out of Imperial Russia's Protocols of the Elders of Zion. Wow, congrats on quoting Imperial Russia and the leader of the Soviet Union, fuckers. Though frankly you don't seem embarrassed about that considering your genocidal intifada posters display the hammer and sickle, do you?

7) have ignored literally everything Hamas has done. From the rape and brutal murders and kidnapping (videos of which they published themselves!). To the tunnels. To the theft of aid. To the execution of civilians following humanitarian corridors to safe zones. To using hospitals to hide weaponry, terrorists and hostages. To forcefully keeping civilians in said hospitals even as they try to evacuate, using them as human shields. To shooting at civilians who try to get some aid before it's stolen. To sending 4 yo children to Israeli soldier camps to assess their preparedness. To keeping weapons beneath a child's bed. To enlisting child soldiers. To programming children with Mein Kampf. To launching rockets from next to kindergartens and across the street from a building belonging to the joke we call the UN. To breaking the November ceasefire 15 minutes in because even an hour without killing jews was too difficult for them to accomplish. To separating families despite the hostage deal being that families will not be separated. To branding the Jewish boys they took hostage (sound familiar to you yet?). To forcing child hostages to watch their October 7 videos and threatening to shoot them if they cry. To raping female hostages. To depriving elderly and chronically ill hostages of life saving medicine. To forcibly converting female hostages. To not releasing the Bibas family despite the deal being that all children be returned. To executing hostages and then lying they died in air strikes despite the cause of death being a bullet. To creating sick games where they publish photos of hostages and dare psychopaths on the internet to guess which are dead and which alive. The list goes on and on and on and you lot stick your fingers in your ears every single time and go "lalala not listening".

8) Have supported the Houthis who literally have "a curse upon the jews" in their slogan

9) Have supported Bin Laden

10) Have supported Iran by supporting its proxy - Hamas.

11) Have shamed Ukrainians for trying to remind them that Russia is still attacking them, and told them that they should support Palestine when... Hamas and the Houthis have literally visited Moscow and Iran are Russia's allies. Good job, guys. Good job.

12) Have done everything to exaggerate what's happening, twist the facts and demonize Israel, all the while portraying it as "criticism". A war is suddenly not bad enough on its own - it has to be a genocide to get people to care. Displacement caused by a war is not bad enough - it has to be ethnic cleansing. Israel is suddenly a fascist Nazi state... despite being democratic and Jewish (where have all the people who laughed at Putin for calling Zelensky a nazi despite Zelensky being a jew gone? I wonder). The war in Gaza has to be the worst conflict on Earth, despite there being ongoing genocides in Sudan and China and the goddamn invasion of Ukraine.

And before any of you antisemitic goyim start furiously typing that it is a genocide and I'm a genocide apologist, please do keep in mind that jews know more about genocide than you ever will. And being a Russian jew I will know more about fascism than you ever will. So do us all a favor, shut up and listen to people more educated on the matter than you.

13) Have tried to define Zionism and Judaism and Jewish history to jews. Thanks for the goysplaining, I guess

14) Have mocked released hostages and their testimonies. Falsely claimed that they were not mistreated and actually written fanfics of them falling in love with the terrorists who murdered their families and kidnapped them

15) Have defaced the statue of Amy Winehouse

16) Have made lists of jews. Oh, sorry, "zionists"

17) Have devolved into race science

And to conclude my post, here are just a few photos of the shit goyim have done since october:

#jews feel free to add more bullshit that the goyim have done that I might've forgotten to mention #i hope this was as scathing and insulting as possible because i am done #i am tired of goyim pretending they care about antisemitism #they don't #and they never did #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #jumblr

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