#and ive tried to reach out for help in every fucking place but nobody answers me

[378262]

officially so fucking done. tw for the tags dont read

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Nine

Master List

“Yn.”

“Hey Steve.”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m ok. How’s Wanda and Sam?”

“Sam’s ok. Wanda is still messed up from what they did to her.”

“Bucky told me.” You rubbed your temples at the thought of what she went through.

“Yea. Hopefully we can get contact with Nat soon. I think she’ll be good to have around for Wanda.”

“Natasha?”

“It got back to secretary Ross what she did at the airport. She’s on the run too.”

“Jesus fuck. This is a mess.” Understatement of the year.

“I have some good news though.”

“What is it Steve?”

“Rhodey is ok.”

“He is!” It felt like your heart jumped out of your chest. He was ok.

“Vision killed his suit when he aimed for Sam.”

“Ok?” This didn’t sound good.

“He broke some vertebrae and severed his spinal cord. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Steve. This doesn’t sound like he’s ok.” The thought that Rhodey wouldn’t be able to fly because of this made you sick. At least he’s alive right?

“Take a deep breath in. He’s ok. Tony got him set up with an exoskeleton to help him walk. It’s similar to what you had after you broke your leg. I guess he beefed it up for Rhodey.”

“Thank god.” You let out a breath and leaned back into your chair. “Any other news?”

“I sent a letter to tony and a phone with this number.”

“What the fuck!” You sat right back up in the chair. “Are you fucking stupid?”

“Yn. Calm down. They are still our friends. I told him that if anything big happens that we are only a phone call away.”

“Steve.” He was right though. If they needed it, you all would be there. No matter what. You heard the door open behind you. You turned to face Bucky. His whole mood had changed since you came outside. A quick look into the suite told you why. Shuri and Ayo where there.

“Hey Steve. I got to go.”

“Everything ok sweetheart?”

Yea. It’s just time to get Bucky ready. Steve gave a sigh over the phone.

“Yn promise me you’ll stay there for him. I know you want to be out here with me, but Bucky needs someone there.”

“Fine Steve.” You tried to watch your tone. Not sure of how much Bucky could hear. “But you promise me. If shit hits the fan, call me. And just call in general. Don’t make me hunt your ass down.”

“I promise. Tell buck I said hi. I’ll try and come through once he’s out of cryo.” You turned to Bucky. He nodded. He had heard the conversation.

“Will do Steve. Be safe.” You stood up from your chair to stand in front of Bucky.

“Try not to be too stupid or reckless yn.” You let a laugh out at his words and hung up the phone.  

“You ok Bucky?”

“I’m just nervous.” He looked every bit of it too. He was so relaxed this morning. Now his shoulders were tense and his nerves were written on his face. You placed your hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Come on Bucky. Let’s get this done.” You lead him back into the suite.

“Hey. I’m going to go get changed real quick. Do you want me to meet you guys down there or do you want to wait?” As comfortable at the shorts and tank were, you definitely needed to change.

“You can meet-“  Shuri was cut off by Bucky.

“We can wait.”

“Alright. I’ll be quick.” You walked down the hall to your room. Quickly you stripped of the clothes that you were wearing. Slipping on fresh panties and a bra then into a pair of leggings and a tee. Next you head to the bathroom. Your hair was a mess in what was left of a bun. You pulled you hair down brushing your finger through it before twisting it back into a bun. You heard the door open as you reached for your tooth brush.

“I’m in here. Just have to brush my teeth.” You did just that, putting a strip of paste on the brush and scrubbing at the morning breath. Nobody had answered you by the time you were done. So you expected the room to be empty, but Bucky was stilling on the edge of your bed.

“You don’t have to do this Bucky.” You sat down on the bed next to him.

“I don’t trust my own mind yn.” He ran his hand through his hair. “As long as I can be controlled no one around me is safe.” You stood and held your hand out to him. He took it and stood up also. You lead him out of the room. Shuri and Ayo had taken a seat while you changed. They both stood when you and Bucky walk in the living room.

“Are you ready Sargent Barnes?”

“I am.”

You dropped Bucky’s hand so he could walk next to Shuri. She was still going over everything that would happen while he was under. Ayo lead the way for the group and you were at the back. Bucky found your hand again once the elevator door closed. He quickly glanced down at you before fixing his eyes straight ahead. The rest of the way to the lab he held you hand. Ayo and Shuri were discussing something between the two of them. Being back on this floor reminded you that Shuri said she would answer any questions you had. Now wasn’t the time, but you tried to keep track of what you wanted to ask.

The doors at the end of the hallway opened, revealing the lab. Bucky froze. You nearly dislocated your own arm with how quickly he stopped and stood dead in his tracks. You followed his eye line. It went directly to the cryo chamber. Shuri went around it and started getting this ready. People buzzed all around the room. Ayo went and stood next to T’Challa. Bucky stayed still and your eyes were focused on him.

“I’ll will be ok Bucky. I promise.” You gave his hand the tightest squeeze. He nodded and walked forward. Someone directed him to sit on the bed and they started to hook up IV’s and other leads. You decided to give them space, walking to stand by Ayo and T’Challa. You made sure though to stay in Bucky’s eye line.

“Thank you again T’Challa.”

“You’re very welcome yn.” Neither of you looked at each other. Just at Bucky.

“Do you think Shuri can do it? Remove the code words?” You quickly glanced at him. He gave a small smirk.

“If anyone can, I would be her.” His confidence in her set you a bit more at ease.

“Good.” Bucky was all hooked up. They were just waiting for the all clear from Bucky.

“Yn?” It barely came out as a whisper. You walked to him and took his hand in both of yours.

“I’m right here Bucky and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Only because Steve told you to.”

“Wow. Ok ass hole. Be that way.” You pulled your hands from his sharply, but he reached out just as quick to grab one hand back.

“Shit I’m sorry yn. I-”  You twisted your arm up to make him release you.

“I’ll see you in a bit Bucky.” You turned back and stood behind T’Challa. A glare set on Bucky who was looking at you pleading.

“We already Sargent Barnes.” Shuri walked up beside him almost to where you had been moments ago. She held a tablet on her hands.

“Ok.” He stood up and walked to the chamber. Getting in slowly trying to steady his breath. You could see on the monitors that his heart rate was rising. He turned back to you just before stepping in.

“I am sorry doll. Please be here when I’m out.” It took everything in you to only deepen your glare at him. His eyes were glazed with unshed tears. When he didn’t get a response he turned and stepped in. The top sliding down and the cryo process starting.

After a few moments someone gave the all clear, that he was stable. You turned sharply on your heals and headed out of the room. Bucky’s words may have been true but they still stung. You would much rather be out there with Steve instead of babysitting his friend, but something felt different after last night. Him being frozen will allow you to feed the hate that bubbled up at his words. Forcing whatever else is going on in your heart out and away. You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for the elevator. T’Challa had walked up next to you just as the doors opened. You both walk in; you rest your back against the back wall.

“Are you ok yn?” T’Challa presses the button to head back to the floor your suite is on.

“I’ll live.” You answer was short. Trying not to unload your anger at him.

“I hate to bring this up now. But I am going to have you moved out of the suite today.”

“Ok?” You straighten up off the wall. “What’s up?”

“There will be some ceremonies for me to officially take over as king. I would prefer if you were away from the city.” He did look apologetic. “Just as a precaution.”

“I totally understand. T’Challa. You’re harboring two international criminals. I’ll move wherever you need me too.” The fact that you were even here was a miracle after everything.  You would do just about anything T’Challa asked of you.

“I have a home set up for you in the countryside. You’ll be tucked away.” He stepped aside as the elevator reached the floor. “I will have Ayo collect you in about an hour.” You stepped out of the elevator and turned back to T’Challa.

“Thank you T’Challa. Again, for everything. I’m sorry I have such a sour attitude most of the time.” He smiled back at you.

“You seem to have your hands full with Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes.” You couldn’t help but laugh. If he only knew that half of it. The door closed and you headed off to your suite.  

Inside the suite was quite. Everything had been left almost untouched from breakfast. You could tell Bucky had done some cleaning before Shuri and Ayo showed up. It killed you to leave a mess. You had an hour before it was time to leave. It would only take a moment to pack what little belongings you had. You started to clear the table. Your mind wandered to what the house that you would now be living in looked like. You were hopeful that it had some modern amenities. Roughing it really wasn’t your style. Then again, you would be grateful for just about anything. You also had to figure out how to make some money. They gave you some clothes but it wasn’t much. Steve must have helped them get stuff for you. Everything was in your size and it was mostly leggings and tees. Steve was always about seeing you in leggings. He wouldn’t say it though. You’d have to add that to your list of questions for Shuri and T’Challa. Maybe they could set up a job.

Once the kitchen was clean you straightened up the living room and moved to the bed rooms. First checking in Bucky’s room. The sheets were still a mess and a pillow was still on the floor from where Bucky was sleeping. You loosely made the bed. Your room was next. The bed had barely been slept in so you left it as it was, grabbing your duffle from under the corner of it. Walking around the room you pick up the weapons that were stashed and the few personal items that you had. All placed snugly in the bag. Tossing it over your shoulder you check your phone. Ayo should be here any minute.

As if on cue, there is a knock at the door. You head out of the room, sliding your shoes back on before opening the door to greet her.

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[mementomori-demimonde]

Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII - XVIII

Chapter 19

Draped over her knees with your arms bent under your head as a pillow, you genuinely wish the reason for that position would be another entirely.

Not that you’d thought you were the type of person to like impact play before meeting Miranda, but a lot changed since she decided to kidnap you and turn your life upside down: you didn’t think you had so much strength in you, you didn’t think you were too smart with electronics and computer softwares, you didn’t think you weren’t made to fight, you didn’t think you would fall in love with a psychotic killer who liked to push your limits, teach you things, even how to fight, who fucked you and let you fuck her… and there you were, enjoying all those things because Miranda was there.

You’re trying to imagine that this is one of her weird scenarios back in her bedroom, roleplaying god-knows-what, putting a little fun in the punishments she oughta give you for not doing something right. Yet, this is not a game. You won’t enjoy any of this and you know it already.

The pain is excruciating already as it is and it’s only about to get worse.

She tried to be incredibly gentle when she removed the tatters of the shirt you were wearing from your back, but that too sent your skin burning aflame, the welts screaming and making you tear up.

The cool air did little good on your bare skin, the gentle scrape at the base of your neck as Miranda helped you lay across her thighs, close to her lap only a sad consolation. She praised you, but you just hiccupped through a sob and stood silent.

You wish you could reassure her, tell her to not feel guilty because what else could she do there, if not obeying? It was that or bullets in your brains.

At least wounds could heal, and you’re not new to wounds either. You can do it. You can bear anything, she’s made you strong, but you can’t bring yourself to speak to her: there are too many thoughts in your mind.

Victor’s words, for instance.

You know it’s only a bunch of lies, but there’s something telling you that it’s not just a bunch of lies.

Victor is an asshole and he likes to tease and to provoke and you bet he’s only said those things to get a rise from Miranda and awaken something within you that could possibly turn you against her, in the end.

Improbable, but not impossible. There’s still too much to uncover.

You swallow down, fidgeting as you try to find the most comfortable position, but already aware that nothing will lessen your discomfort.

Hidden from your eyes, Miranda unfolds the foil that she’s stuck in the wall a few days ago. She opens up a new bottle and drinks from it - you can hear her swallow in long, rhythmical gulps - the foil rustles in her hand for a moment, then she caps the bottle again and shakes it vigorously.

Your first reaction is to grow tense, you can’t even help it.

“It’s going to sting.” Miranda warns with a low, apologetic voice.

You’d tell her that it’s not her fault, except that it is, in a certain sense. Besides, you can’t bring yourself to actually talk, already so invested with bracing yourself for pain.

Water and salt: she’s going to clean the welts on your back to the best of her possibilities. It won’t be pleasant at all. “Try not to fight it, it’ll only be worse.” She suggests. You don’t really know if you’ll be able to do it.

When she starts to pour, it hurts like hell. She tuts at you, shushes you when the clatter of your teeth becomes louder, but it doesn’t help the searing pain that radiates in your body.

“I’ll kill him,” Miranda mumbles behind clenched teeth, “I’ll fucking run him over with a car and kill him.” She says.

It’s nice to know that she’s unhinged toward Victor because of you, that she would kill him for you, but somehow, it’s not enough to distract you from the pain. It’s the only disinfectant you have access to, it’s supposed to burn, but there’s something terribly wrong in the way it steals your breath away.

You feel like dying, and, at some point, you know you’re unconsciously wiggling, thrashing your limbs in the grasp of a maddening pain, caused by something that it’s supposed to help but that seems only to make things worse. You feel your skin tearing, the salty water seeping inside, overwhelming your body - it’s too much.

You’ve been through a lot in the past few months, and yet, somehow, nothing was as bad as this. Maybe it’s the situation, maybe it’s the fear, maybe it’s the realization that something terrible has happened that involves the person you’ve grown to love, but you can’t bear it.

You let go. You allow yourself to cry. For the pain, and also for something else.

Maybe you’ve passed out. You clearly don’t remember falling asleep, honestly, how could you have fallen asleep?

You’re still draped over her legs, you feel one of her hands carding mindlessly through your hair and on the nape of your hair.

Miranda seems to notice the change in your breathing, or maybe you’ve just moved unconsciously, but your body falls limp over hers, every muscle turned to liquid under her hand and soothing murmurs.

To her eyes, you even might look relaxed. In reality, you don’t have enough strength to push yourself up and put some distance between the two of you.

“It’s done.” She says, pressing her fingertips between your shoulder blades, the other on your tailbone as if to keep you still. “Don’t move yet, the rash is fading, but the welts look rather sore.”

You’re barely listening to her.

You don’t feel exactly fine, but better, besides, it’s not your back that hurts most, but your head. The thoughts swirling in there are screaming louder than anything else.

You don’t care about the welts, you don’t care about the rash nor the soreness. You don’t even care about Victor for putting you in this situation. You don’t care about Victor for putting Miranda in that situation. You care about him because he put those thoughts in your head and now you don’t care about anything else: what is it that you don’t know? What important secret has Miranda kept from you?

“I wasn’t the only one?” You ask without small talks, eager to get it out of you and sorted out before it drives you insane.

Her breath falters. She doesn’t move, but you feel something shifting in the air, in the way she rests her fingertips across your skin.

There’s silence for a long time.

You don’t know if she’s finally given up, or maybe it’s because she feels trapped, with nowhere to go, yet she heaves a sigh, hopefully readying herself to face you, your questions, and possibly the future that lies ahead.

“Nobody ever made it that far.” She says in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard coming from her.

There were others. There have been others before you. The information doesn’t shock you, what does it’s the complete lack of emotion on her part.

“You killed them?” You inquire. The words haven’t even left your mouth yet and you already fear the answer. She doesn’t speak, which already is enough, or very close to the reply you were anticipating and, still, you need to hear it; you need to hear it from her. “You killed other girls? Miranda!”

She flinches at the way you shout her name: demanding, enraged, not allowing room for lies or more silence. It’s new, it would’ve earned you a punishment. Now, it doesn’t.

You feel her muscles tense under you, above, all over.

“It’s my job.” She says, again, emotionless. “You don’t have to be shocked. You know how it started, you listened to my tales, you’ve seen this place and known Victor.” She swallows. “It was my job.” She corrects.

“So, you would’ve killed me.”

“No-”

“Yes. You would.”

Miranda doesn’t reply to that. She can’t reply to that with anything that could make you feel slightly better. You both know that, and you’re grateful she’s not telling lies, nor shying away with some witty comment, or distracting you with anything else.

“I didn’t.” She says at one point. “The point is that I didn’t.”

“Yes.” You agree, slightly confused.

You know there have been others in the same cell, maybe others had managed to get out and endure some of her training, but nobody has made it, in the end.

What makes you different? You’d want to know the answer so badly, but it’s probably too cheesy and close to the nonsense that it’s impossible. It had to do something with a peculiar feature in you, or how fast you learn, or something that you can’t think of right now. But what? “Why? Why didn’t you?”

“Listen,” She lets out a frustrated sigh. You know what she’s about to do: you’ve reached the breaking point, she has no escape and now she’s shying away, “this is not the place, nor the time to-”

“We could die.” You cut her off, virtually grabbing her before she can go and hide somewhere you can’t reach. “Am I right? We could die.”

“Aye.”

“Then talk to me!” Your breath hitches. “Please.”

Hidden from your inquiring glare, Miranda heaves a long sigh. One of her hand hovers on the small of your back, the other trails through the fine hair on your nape, but it’s hardly for your pleasure: she’s using you as a sort of stress relief and you’d gladly let her without complaints. You’d do that in normal circumstances, now you’re more than happy to indulge her to know the truth, finally.

“You know why I chose you.” Miranda says. You nod: she’s told the story already: no bonds, no real purpose in your life; simply the preferable candidate to kidnap and train. “But I never told you why I needed someone like you.” She pauses, clears her throat, her voice is getting hoarse. “You’ve seen this place, you must’ve realized, by now, that I work for Victor. Worked that is. We- we are criminals. Ruthless, cold-hearted, murderous criminals who obey orders for money, no matter what.”

“I know.” You croak out, even just to give her courage. Of course you know she’s not a saint, you’ve known it since the beginning. You have to admit that hearing it from her, the plain truth, is strange and upsetting, but you’ve been preparing for the revelation for weeks.

“I was supposed to collect some information about a very important family. Drug dealers, weapon treaders- the worst kind. I was supposed to get close to them and inside their corporation and get out when the work was done, but to do that, I needed bait. I needed somebody to blame so I could get out clean and alive.” She says in a thin voice. Her fingers get caught in your hair, she doesn’t pull. “I was supposed to train someone and feed them to the lions, but- I couldn’t do it. In the end, I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of me?” You ask hesitantly, fearing that your voice might break the spell. Luckily, it doesn’t. If anything, it seems to comfort her, in some way.

“Because it was you.” She corrects with a small huff. You can feel all the frustration trapped in her words. “I thought I was simply having fun while doing my job, I thought there was nothing wrong with taking the best out of the situation... but things got out of hand. I- I didn’t know what I was doing, at some point, I knew you were getting attached, but I tried to ignore the signals, I tried to dismiss the issue until it was too late. Until there was no space left to back up, and the only way was going forward.” She inhales deeply, resumes the slow caress on the small of your back. Inadvertently, she catches a welt and you do your best not to flinch away at the pain. “I convinced myself it was just fun, just sex, just casual cohabitation with benefits, and then you talked about love... and the bubble burst.”

“I’m sorry-” You murmur, she doesn’t hear you.

“I got- I got scared and I fucked it all up.”

She moves up your back without warning, and your abused skin sets on fire. Your mind was racing already, now, spurred by the blazing pain, is in literal delirium. You push yourself up, ignoring the tightness in your muscles, the ache of your welts, and sit back on your haunches, wincing at the position that has you dizzy, eyes boring into her.

Miranda stares, her gaze a mixture of concern and shyness, and guilt that flashes oh-so-clear in the blue of her eyes, like nothing ever before. Miranda has always been tough to read, but right now, she’s so vulnerable, so exposed that your heart almost aches.

“So?” You blurt out. “I’m scared all the time! I fuck things up all the time, what’s the big deal?”

Miranda chuffs out a chuckle. Her smile is bittersweet when she shakes her head.

“You don’t understand.” She whispers. “There’s no room for being scared in this world, nor to fuck things up. You do that, you’re dead!” She growls, jaw clenched and voice vibrating with the effort. “I can only be cold-hearted and confident and ruthless and strong-”

“No, you don’t understand!” You cut her off, heart in your throat. “You can be all of that at the same time and also allow yourself to be scared. Being scared it’s what makes you different from them, can’t you see it?” You lean forward, panting hard through the soreness in your back, and rest a palm on the floor.

“It’s what got us caught.” She insists. Miranda tries to reach for you, but you flinch back.

“You’re more than just black and white.” You whisper softly, voice so low you even wonder if she can actually hear you. Eyes fixed on the sticky linoleum, you don’t feel brave enough to bear her gaze. You’ve been willing to tell her something similar for ages, and now that it’s time, now that you’ve finally decided to seize the opportunity - because, frankly, there might not be a lot of chances in the future - you feel extremely agitated. It’s now or never. Literally. Besides, what is she going to do about it? Run off? Choke you to death? You’ll be dead anyway. “You’re more than that, Miranda, in fact...  you have a whole spectrum of colors within you and you don’t even know it because you’ve been too busy suffocating it for years.”

You find the courage to lift your head, and look at her. She looks beautiful as always, her puzzled face all angles and sharp edges, blue eyes boring into your very soul. You feel exposed, and yet, for some reason, you’ve never felt braver.

“I can see through you.” You sigh, your hands shake. “You let me in, Miranda. It’s too late to push me out.”

There’s a long pause. Or is it a quick one, you don’t really know. The whole room is spinning, your tired brain struggling between processing the pain and the situation at the same time.

“I did, didn’t I?” Miranda snorts, chuffing out a disbelieving giggle as she probably laughs at herself. She breathes hard behind her palms, covering her face, and when she peels her hands away, she cocks her head to the side, her face a mixture of concern and condescending curiosity as she studies you. “I got your point, no lay back down. I don’t have salts if you faint on me.”

You gape at her, but you’re too tired to protest further, so you simply give in and settle on your stomach by her side.

“Do you really think this is the best time to pull out a joke about salt?”

“Why not?” She shrugs.

She’s right. Neither of you knows how much it’s left, and the timing, you have to admit it, was quite perfect.

“I think it’s the first time I’ve heard you joking.” You confess. Surprisingly, even and especially to yourself, you’ve managed to keep your voice even and emotionless. You were simply stating the fact, but you’ve managed to conceal everything that was behind it: even in those horrible times and even more disgusting place, Miranda is still uncovering new little bits of her.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, out of the blue. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody does.” You reply, a little shrug of your shoulders.

Even if you might have a distorted vision of reality, you know she doesn’t deserve it. Despite what Miranda thinks of herself, no matter how guilty she feels, she does not deserve this.

The woman scoffs, you see her carding her hand through her hair angrily with the corner of your eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here in the first place.” She growls. “You shouldn’t love-”

“Miranda, stop it.” You exhale sharply and her precarious rambling stops immediately. “It’s not like I can help it.”

“Pity.” She mutters, almost automatically.

You can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt, but you manage to mask the rejection quite well. You turn your head to the other side, so you’re now facing the wall.

You know you’ve been a fool, you know you’ve just self-deceived for months about the nature of your relationship, you know you’ve hoped and waited for something to finally shift, and it did, but only on your side. Hope… was just a weapon as dangerous as a gun, maybe even worse.

It’s so perfectly clear, right now, so close to actually dying, that things will not change. Miranda will never love you when she barely cares.

After all, why would she? Why would somebody like her love a dull girl kidnapped in a dark alley, drunk, that was supposed to serve as bait?

Of course, it changed a bit. Maybe she’s taking a liking of you, but that’s it. That’s as far as it’ll ever go.

You stiffen when you feel her fingertips crawling up your back, dragging her pads along your spine, minding not to touch any welt or sore point.

You don’t know if she knows what you’re thinking, yet you’re sure she’s sensed your melancholy. She always does.

“It’ll take a while, but it’ll heal eventually.” She whispers soothingly.

“Those are not the scars I’m worried about.” You murmur back.

You’d wear those scars proudly just as you wear hers, if only to remind yourself of those times, of those things you’ve endured and survived together. You know those will heal, one day, leaving simple marks behind, but you’re not sure the hidden ones will too. Anyway, what’s the point, now? Everything seems so meaningless so close to possibly dying while being stuck: impossible to go back to feel nothing, impossible to claim more.

“Everything heals, eventually.” Miranda says, she seems lost in her thoughts and you don’t even know if she’s talking to you or to herself. You’re in no mood to mind looking, right now. “With time.”

“We might not have that, though.” You exhale, let your eyes close. “We might die before anything can actually heal, right?”

Miranda pauses for a moment. She stops her movements, settles her hand on your bruised hip, making you shiver under that hesitant touch. She sighs.

“Right.”

[clumsyclifford]

mayhaps,,,backseat serenade for a prompt?? (don’t ask me to pick a specific part bc i am Indecisive) also for any pairing but i am partial to malum

OKAY hear me out. i know you said malum and i will happily write this with malum if you want but this song is a muke song to me. and since ive never written muke (!! it is a night for debuts eh) i figured. may as well give it a go. in this low stakes tumblr prompt fic environment. SO here we have it. the closest ill probably ever get to writing smut without writing smut <3

-

Luke’s on his third drink when he sees Michael across the room, and Michael catches his eye. Luke lifts a hand, gesturing for him to come over, which is a bad idea, because he’s drunk, and Michael’s definitely drunk — he’s been drinking whiskey all night; weird choice but there’s no explaining Michael — and Luke and Michael are notoriously lacking in self-control when drunk, but now Michael’s already coming over and it’s too late to take it back.

“Hey hey hey,” Michael slurs as he leans against the bar, crowding already into Luke’s space. His breath smells of whiskey, and Luke wishes that were enough to turn him off it, but it’s very much not. 

“Hey back,” Luke says. “Having fun?”

Michael barks a laugh. “Fuck no. Are you?”

Of course Luke’s not having fun — it’s why he’s sitting at the bar. “No,” he says, trying and failing to refrain from saying what he wants to say next. “But I could be, now.”

Michael smiles. “Worst chat-up line I’ve ever heard in my life,” he says, coming around Luke and using his shoulders to spin him around on the barstool. “Try again.”

“Who said anything about chat-up lines?” Luke blinks up at Michael, wide-eyed and innocent. It’s gotten him before and it’ll work again. Luke wishes he didn’t know that so well, but Michael licks his lips and they’re here again like they’ve been too many times before. 

“Got me there,” Michael breathes, leaning in. Luke leans away instinctively and his back presses into the bar.

“Maybe I just needed a friend,” he says weakly.

“I bet you did,” Michael says, watching him carefully.

It’s no use. They’re caught in the web already. Struggling against it will be in vain, so all that’s left to do is sink deeper and hope that it’ll dissolve by morning.

Luke pushes himself off the seat so swiftly that Michael stumbles backwards. Good, Luke thinks with relish, because Michael loves to push him around and sometimes it’s Luke’s turn. “Your place or mine?”

Michael chews on his lower lip. Luke suddenly finds it hard to breathe. “Yours.”

Luke orders an Uber and they leave the bar to wait for it. The summery nighttime air is warm with just a hint of a breeze, and Michael hangs off him the whole time they wait, pressing butterfly kisses to his jaw with deceptive gentleness.

(Michael’s never gentle with him. It’s why Luke keeps coming back — or at least one of the reasons. Maybe he needs to be reminded that he can take it. If Michael can’t break him, nobody can. And Michael’s awfully good at pushing his limits.)

Luke feels badly for the Uber driver; Michael kisses Luke the moment they slide into the backseat of the car. The radio is on, something loud and angry playing through the speakers. Distantly Luke thinks he’ll definitely leave a generous tip, although presently all he can think about is Michael’s mouth on his, and wishing Michael’s mouth were doing other things, although those things should definitely wait until they’re no longer in the backseat of a car.

“Michael,” he manages, trying for scolding though he’s sure it comes out desperate. Michael pulls back, at least for a moment, hooded eyes gazing into Luke’s own. “Slow down.”

“Slow down?” Michael repeats, sounding deeply unimpressed. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“We’re in an Uber,” Luke hisses. “We’ll be back at mine in five minutes.”

“Mm,” Michael says. “That’s five too many, if you ask me.”

He presses back into Luke, pushes him into a messy kiss, and Luke tries, really tries to stop the way he melts into it, but it’s fucking impossible. Kissing Michael is his main source of relief, the antidote to all of his pain, and every time they kiss Luke hurts a little less all over. The world is bitter and frequently out to get him, but Michael is a welcome reprieve, someone hungry and immediate to deal with, enough to take Luke’s mind off all the shit he’s trying to ignore about his life and focus just on this.

Five minutes does turn out to feel like an eternity, and Luke doesn’t even wish the driver a goodnight because he’s almost too embarrassed to even acknowledge the ride happened. That concern quickly flies from his mind when Michael essentially manhandles him to the door, and Luke fumbles with the lock just enough to remember that he is, in fact, rather drunk, and so is Michael.

(But what is life for if not making stupid decisions about sleeping with your bandmates slash best friends when you’re wasted?)

Michael all but pushes Luke through the door once it’s open, at which point Luke decides he’s had enough of that, and spins on his heel to pin Michael to the back of the door. Breathing hard, trying not to become completely incoherent from Michael’s disheveled state, he says, “Be fucking patient.”

Michael juts his chin out, so casually defiant that Luke’s heart stutters in his chest. 

(Which is wrong. This isn’t supposed to be a matter of the heart — Luke’s heart should have checked out by now, but it’s still here, watching and waiting for Michael, hungry in a different way. This should be a physical affair, the way it’s been every time before, but Luke can’t help the leaps and bounds in his ribcage, only do his level best to ignore them.)

“Make me,” Michael says, around a delicious smirk.

They’re in Luke’s house, though, and the time for patience is past, and anyway, Luke is probably stronger than Michael but he’d much rather be on the other side of this hold, and they both know it.

The song from the radio still on repeat in Luke’s head, he leans in, and Michael meets him halfway, a battle they fight over and over with no clear victor.

-

Luke wakes up in bed, Michael snoring lightly across his bare chest, sunlight streaming in through the windows, a furious headache behind his eyes. This, at least, is familiar. The unfamiliar piece is the dull thud of Luke’s heartbeat picking up speed as he registers Michael in bed with him.

It’s not as if they haven’t woken up like this before. It’s not like they’ve never shared a fucking bed, notwithstanding whether or not they’d just fucked. Luke feels vulnerable, laid bare; even though it’s impossible for Michael to know what he’s thinking, Luke is nervous that Michael will know.

As if summoned by Luke’s thoughts (an idea that doesn’t put Luke’s nerves at ease), Michael’s eyes flutter open, and he yawns.

“Hi,” he says, looking up through tired eyes at Luke. 

(Luke has learned to reconcile the Michael from last night with the Michael from this morning. They’re not the same person, but then again, neither is Luke.)

“Hi,” Luke says. He closes his eyes. The light is doing absolutely nothing for his hangover. “We should try and remember to close the blinds.”

“Fucking amen,” Michael grumbles. “I’m blaming you. It’s your house.”

Luke would have remembered if he hadn’t been so distracted by a certain someone, but he’s pretty sure they have an agreement not to really talk about it, so he doesn’t say that. Instead, he says, “I’ll make breakfast if you ask really nicely.”

“Make breakfast or I’ll TP your house,” Michael says, burying his face in Luke’s side. “I know where you live.”

Luke smiles and huffs a laugh. “Try again.”

“Don’t make breakfast,” Michael says. He tilts his head and looks at Luke. “Don’t get up yet. Come on. Go back to sleep. We don’t need to get up.”

Luke stares. This is uncharted territory. Michael’s not supposed to ask him to stay. Michael’s not supposed to ask to stay.

“I have to, um,” Luke starts, still staring at Michael as Michael stares back. There’s a challenge in his expression but also something pleading about it, something vulnerable and on the whole very unlike any version of Michael that Luke knows.

“Close the blinds?” Michael finishes for him, offering him a soft smile.

Luke catches his breath. “Yeah. And then we can go back to sleep.”

Michael flops onto his back, releasing his hold on Luke. Luke feels cold, and quickly slides out of bed and crosses to the windows. Shutting the blinds throws the room into a much dimmer light, and he takes a second to adjust his eyes before ambling back over to his bed and crawling under the sheet.

Michael immediately tucks himself against Luke’s side, fitting so comfortably that Luke can’t believe he’s been sleeping all this time alone. It makes sense, and it feels right, and Luke’s chest feels full to bursting with the fact that Michael hasn’t left. Michael is still here, breaking every rule they’ve written for themselves.

So Luke ducks his head and presses a kiss to Michael’s hair. (Because what’s one more?)

“Mm,” Michael hums contentedly, looking up at Luke. “I’d kiss you if I cared enough to reach you, honest.”

“Could just ask,” Luke says lightly. “I’m very accommodating.”

“Oh, I know.” Michael grins. The rulebook is in tatters; Luke thinks, fuck it, and shuffles down in bed to kiss Michael. Somehow this one, more than all of the other ones they’ve ever had, makes Luke’s stomach churn. Michael tastes of stale whiskey and salt and morning breath, a mixture that should be atrocious but for some reason isn’t.

Michael smiles again when he pulls away, sleepy through half-lidded eyes. “I’m sleeping ‘til this hangover goes away on its own. Hope you didn’t have plans.”

Luke can’t find it in him to come up with any kind of witty retort. “Okay,” he says softly. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” Michael answers with a yawn, and within moments he’s back to sleep. 

Luke falls asleep soon after. It’s much easier to fall asleep, he finds, with someone else curled up in bed with him, especially when that someone is Michael. Luke thinks about potential energy and drifts off with a smile.  

[muwur]

idk if this counts as an emergency or comfort request but ive been havin a REAL bad body image week nsnnnsnnnsnn could i maybe request headcanons for either oikawa or kuroo (u can pick if u wanna) with an s/o who is rlly self conscious about being chubby/has a really hard time with food and mayb feels like worthless because theyre not the ideal body type? idk sorry if thats dumb aaaah thank u sm if u choose to do this

self-love

♡ scenarios ♡ for oikawa and kuroo

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.7k words

a/n: hey hun, im sorry to hear you’ve been having a rough time lately. this kind of request actually rlly hits close to home, and if u ever need anything, ur mor than welcome to reach out to me :) i can also help look for resources for help, anything really. this goes for all y’all! i dont want none y’all to feel alone with anything ur going thru cuz we’re in this together! and no need to thank me, the pleasure is mine luv 🥰💕 nothing about this is dumb, ur feelings are valid. i hope this will bring you n many others some comfort. also,, FUCK BODY STANDARDS MAKIN US BELIEVE THERE’S AN IDEAL TYPE BC THERE IS NONE N Y’ALL R BEAUTIFUL N IF U DUN THINK SO I WILL COME OVER DER,,, ok im done 🥰🥰 (more notes at the bottom of this, i talk a lot n think its important, didnt wanna add it up here bc it was too long lolol) tw: mentions of bad body and implies disordered eating behaviors

 oikawa

♡ Oikawa was pretty keen, so when he observed a gradual shift in your behavior, he definitely took notice

♡ One day when you showed up to lunchtime empty-handed and sat with your two friends, casually chatting, Oikawa and Iwaizumi gave you a questioning look

♡ “Where’s your lunch, y/n?” Oikawa asked

♡ “Oh, I, uh, ate it already, actually.”

♡ Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and offered you some of his, but you declined, thanking him and stating you were already full

♡ Later that day in class, however, Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the absence of your boxed lunch container in your unzipped backpack

♡ The next day, you came empty-handed again, blaming it on your forgetfulness during your rush to get to school

♡ However, it became a normal occurrence over time, and while you seemed fine, uneasiness began to prick inside Oikawa’s stomach

♡ Those smiles you wore appeared fragile, and the laughter that rumbled from your throat felt restrained

♡ You seemed more tired and unfocused than usual

♡ Preoccupied, withdrawn, and distant

♡ He could sense something was bothering you, no matter how much you may (or may not) have tried to hide it

♡ On his way to school one morning, he made sure to stop by a convenience store to pick one of your favorite snacks, thinking it was a simple gesture to brighten up the somber aura he’s been detecting from you

♡ “I have a surprise for you, y/n~” Oikawa announced with excitement, rummaging through his bag to pull out the snack and show it to you. “Look, it’s your favorite!”

♡ You could only offer him an uneasy smile, “Oh, you shouldn’t have...” You really shouldn’t have...

♡ When he noticed the tension in your body and expression, a frown appeared on his lips

♡ “Y/n? Is something wrong?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder but you swiftly flinched away

♡ ”I’m fine..!”

♡ Surprised at your sudden movement and outburst, you both felt a split second of apprehension crackle in the air before you started to gather your items in a rush

♡ Sighing, you repeated, “I’m fine.”

♡ He wasn’t sure whether you were speaking to him or yourself

♡ “Thanks for the snack, but I’ll pass. Have it for me. You need it more, anyways; you have volleyball practice. I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa,” you offered him a solemn smile and left before he could even reply

♡ Some time had passed before he could finally get you to open up to him

♡ And when you did, it crushed his heart to see how much your insecurities broke you

♡ It hurt to hear how low you thought about yourself; how you couldn’t see the beauty in your being; how you deemed food, your body, and yourself as your worst enemies

♡ Thus bringing you to the conclusion that maybe you’d be happy and like yourself if you could just give up that midday snack or your school lunch

♡ Even raincheck a cafe date you were supposed to have together

♡ Maybe also skip dinner, sometimes breakfast the next morning as well

♡ You could manage on just water

♡ Little sacrifices to shed some weight, feel better, and get closer to your ideal body goals

♡ You admitted, however, to questioning whether any of it was worth it

♡ The constant states of hunger, pain, and defeat you lived in

♡ Only to feel as though you were getting nowhere

♡ Oikawa was well aware of today’s beauty standards. I mean, he himself was often praised for his natural charm and beauty

♡ And you felt you could never reach that ideal

♡ “Oikawa, you’re too good for me.”

♡ His eyebrows knitted in concern as he lifted his right hand to caress your cheek softly. “And why do you say that?”

♡ Tears threatened to prick at your eyes. All you could was stare at the ground in silent shame

♡ When you still said nothing, he leaned in closer, his brown gaze softly pleading

♡ “Y/n, look at me.”

♡ When your eyes flickered up to meet his own, Oikawa asked, “You know I love you, right?”

♡ His question was met with a meek, “Yes.”

♡ From your clouded glaze, he could tell that you had a hard time believing in your own response

♡  “Do you know why?”

♡ But before you could respond, he was already answering his own question

♡ “Well...” he began, glancing up in thought and wearing a small smile

♡ “Something about you makes me want to be by your side. I love to see your smiles and hear your laughter, but I always want to be there to hold you when you’re crying and in pain.”

♡ “You’re supportive. You understand what I need, and I don’t always have to explain myself to you. You take your time with me and make me feel like I can be myself. Not many people have stuck around to actually get to know me. Because of that, you’ve never failed to make my day a little better with just your presence.”

♡ “You’re strong and caring. I can rely on you to have my back, and I hope I provide that same comfort to you as well.”

♡ “I love being able to lazy around with you or go on adventures and discover something new. It’s comfortable and exciting at the same time.”

♡ “Your hands feel like they were made to hold mine.”

♡ He reached down to squeeze your hand gently

♡ “Kissing you makes me forget about everything else on my mind. I can just live in the present with you.”

♡ He moved close and gave you a peck above your eyebrow

♡ “You make me want to work hard and be a better person. You help motivate me to try my best, and you never give up on me. Why would I ever give up on you?”

♡  “I learn something new with you everyday. Like right now, I realize that I’ve never met someone who could so easily make my heart race as they could make my heart break.”

♡ “When I look at you, all I can think about is how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life as a partner and one of my best friends. Nobody else could fill the gaps within me the same way you do.”

♡ Leaning over to brush his lips against your forehead, he muttered, “I’m going to love every part of you, inside and out. You’re already my ideal. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I could go on about every detail on why I feel so strongly for you, but I’m here to show you everything there is to appreciate about yourself because you’re worth every ounce of care and effort. And if you can’t see it in yourself right now, I’ll love you more than enough for the both of us until you learn to love yourself. I’m here to help.”

♡ And after crying out your tears into his shoulder as he held you close and rubbed your back, you both went to his house to relax and have some dinner

♡ He was patient with you, taking into account how having a meal may have made you feel anxious

♡ It was something small and simple that you two agreed to prepare and share, after some tender coaxing from Oikawa

♡ He later made a list in his journal about tips to keep in mind:

♡ ‘Check up on y/n often to see how they’re feeling’

♡ ‘Encourage them to eat meals/snacks. Don’t be too pushy, but be patient. Try to have eat with them when you can!’

♡ ‘Remind them they don’t have to earn the right to eat, and that their body doesn’t define their worth‘

♡ ‘Look into some mindfulness techniques!’

♡ ‘Don’t overvalue physical appearance. Also focus on all the other redeeming qualities y/n has! But of course I’m always gonna tell them they look cutee--’

♡ True to his word, he remained understanding

♡ He’s there to listen to you, or to sit with you in comforting silence

♡ During lunch he would share his food with you, reassuring you that it wasn’t something you had to avoid

♡ Some days he succeeds in encouraging you to share a milk bun or your favorite snack with him

♡ And on days you really didn’t feel like it, he never forces anything onto you and instead made sure you at least hydrated

♡ Oikawa spends some time doing research and gathering tips on how to help you

♡ Always reminds you of your worth and how you bring out the best in him

♡ He’ll never hold it against you if you ever become hostile, irritated, or in denial. He knows you’re hurting and doesn’t take it personally

♡ Sends you cute memes with all those emoji hearts

♡ Also some food puns (Oikawa: “I’m soy into you. Please brie mine. We are mint to be. I ap-peach-iate you. You got a pizza my heart. Olive you--” ; You: *puts a hand over his mouth* ; Oikawa: 🥺 ; You: “...olive you, too”)

♡ Always ready to give up what he’s doing to make sure you’re okay

♡ Will stay up with you late at night to talk on the phone

♡ Reminds you you’re beautiful at least 8 times a day

♡ If y’all ever go shopping and you try things on in the fitting room,, Oikawa would be your #1 hype man

♡ One time you tried something on, and you were almost too ashamed to step out and show him

♡ But when you did, you were met with his surprise and excitement

♡ “dfghjklkuyfuh” was all you could process from his incoherent speech before he insisted on treating you by purchasing it for you (Oikawa: “Can you wear this for me, like, everyday?” ; You: *weird look* “Why are you like this??” you love it tho--)

♡ Gushes internally over how cute you are during your movie + cuddle sessions, mostly pays attention to you rather than the movie

♡ Mid-movie be like:

♡ Oikawa: “So, uh, what’s happening again?

♡ You: -.- “You might as well google the whole synopsis instead of watching it”

♡ Oikawa: “...it’s not my fault you’re distracting, babe”

♡ Always politely excuses himself from his fangirls to get to you. Also reassures you he much prefers to be with you than anyone else and that you’re the best catch ;)) (You: “Oikawa, no” ; Oikawa: “y/n, yes”)

♡ Suggested doing some meditation together once

♡ You listened to a recording and you sat side by side on a mat, but Oikawa thought the person’s voice sounded funny so he had a hard time focusing

♡ But it ended with y’all laughing and making jokes as he lay his lead on your lap and you played with his hair

♡ Y’all get better at it tho

♡ Cooking dates! To try to show you that food isn’t an enemy and can bring people together :)

♡ Puts music on so y’all can jam together (Oikawa: “Oh my gosh, y/n, this is my favorite song, you’re not even rEADY to see me perform-- ; You: “Oikawa, t-the food! It’s burning!!”)

♡ Cooking dates also show that you should never leave the stove unattended

♡ Every once in a while he suggests seeking professional help. He wishes he could take away your pain and help you all his own, but he knows this is more complicated and required outside help, too

♡ Has help resources READY

♡ As well as small snacks like granola bars for you if you ever feel faint

♡ He doesn’t hesitate to confront you when he feels it’s necessary and he’s worried about your habits

♡ He handles things well, though, and often convinces you to take care of yourself more, even though he’s there to look after you

♡ Has made it his mission to help you win against your battle with insecurities

♡ Overall, he’s very caring and empathetic, hoping one day you’ll see yourself the way he sees you 💖 : strong, amazing, breathtaking, & perfectly imperfect

kuroo

♡ Occasionally, you would think about the day you broke down in front of him

♡ Your body racked with repressed whimpers as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes and describe the recent state of your mind through choked sobs

♡ Lately, your thoughts were being especially relentless in making you feel miserable

♡ Oftentimes you’d be able to shove the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and carry on your day as usual, expertly acting as though everything in your life was going smoothly

♡ However, you found yourself fighting a losing battle against your own conscious, heavily preoccupied with thoughts of your own worthlessness

♡ And so you tried to cope

♡ But you were painfully aware of everything you felt was wrong with you

♡ You felt uncomfortable in your skin

♡ Every time you passed by your own reflection, you couldn’t help but mentally recoil at the image looking back at you

♡ Your clothes didn’t fit right

♡ Even when you opted for baggy clothes, you felt like you were taking up all the space in them

♡ Maybe it was the weight gain. You could see and feel it in your face, your arms, your stomach, your legs... everywhere

♡ You just wanted to hide away your shame

♡ Perhaps it was the dessert you allowed yourself to eat the other day. Foolish of you to think then that you wouldn’t regret it as much as you did afterwards

♡ As a consequence of those foolish actions, you made mental notes about anything and everything you ate. What it was, how much of it you had, etc

♡ Trying to restrict so that maybe you would lose some weight and come to like how you look

♡ Your obsessive thoughts of food and weight overtook your mind like a dark cloud

♡ Your favorite foods, which before would never fail to brighten your mood, taunted you with shame and guilt

♡ Exercise? Sometimes it was an activity you genuinely enjoyed. Other times, a chore that made you feel shitty or numb and reinforced your unhealthy desire to lose

♡ And you sometimes found yourself crying over your last meal, one you know you didn’t need. One you didn’t deserve

♡ And each time you released the reins on your self-control, you felt pathetic going against the vow you made to yourself  

♡ At this rate, you’d never be beautiful or be happy with yourself

-You’d remain unworthy, fat, disgusting--

-But before you could continue, your story was cut off by the impact of Kuroo’s embrace

-Your surprise silenced your sobs, and you could only stare wide-eyed at the space in front of you as you felt his arms squeeze tightly around your frame

-You both sat there for a few moments on your knees, with your back lightly leaning against a wall

- “I’m sorry for the pain you’re experiencing,” he begins softly. “Thank you for sharing with me. It must’ve taken a lot for you to do that.”

-He was right. It was your first time reaching out to another person about this. It was the last thing you thought you would’ve done today

- “I want to let you know that you shouldn’t be ashamed for feeling this way. Reaching out is important and brings you the help you need to get better. I know you might not want help right now or think that these thoughts and behaviors are a problem. However, telling me about all this shows that some part of you is recognizing there’s something wrong and you can’t always handle it on your own.”

-There were many reasons you kept this to yourself. You didn’t want to bother anyone else. Your problems seemed so trivial.  You worried saying them aloud would confirm your beliefs. You were scared people would see you differently. You--

-The intrusive thoughts never failed to make you feel ashamed

-However, it was oddly comforting to release the pent up emotions. To know you didn’t have to bottle up this burden anymore, and that you weren’t alone

-You were about to murmur in response when,

- “Also, you’re an idiot, y/n.”

- “Wow, thanks, as if I don’t already think that about myself,” you bit back in response

-You were about to shove him away just when he released his grip around your body and placed his hands on your shoulders

-His eyes shone with determination and a faint, inviting smile spread on his lips

- “You are the one of the single most important things in my life. I just mean you’re an idiot in the sense that you’re overevaluating one aspect to define your whole self. You’ve forgotten about all your other redeeming qualities that contribute to who you are.”

♡ “Your size, weight, shape; none of that matters. What matters is your health and happiness. Neglecting yourself in order to reach an ‘ideal’ that you’ve concluded is the answer to your self-worth is only bringing you farther away from what you truly want.”

♡ “I don’t mean to downplay any of your emotions or how significant this is to you. Your first step was to put your trust into someone else about this. That’s done. Now, I’m here to help you undergo self-evaluation and serve as encouragement on your journey to self-love and acceptance.”

♡ “I also want to remind you progress is not linear. There will be times when things are harder, and that’s okay; it’s part of the process. If you’re open to getting better in the future, I’m sure as hell going to be there every step of the way.”

♡ And with a soft peck to the forehead and another hug, he nuzzled into your neck and muttered, “I love you. And I want you to love yourself. So, please, allow me to help you through this and I guarantee that by the end of it all, it’ll have been so worth it.”

♡ Unsure what to say, you gripped his jacket tighter, buried your head in his shoulder, and muttered, “Thank you.”

♡ While the negative feelings about yourself remained afterward, you were relieved that your boyfriend was supportive and calm

♡ He treated you the same as always, teasing you over dumb things while making you feel like you stood among the highest peaks on Earth

♡ The day after, he had shown up to your house, weary-eyed and carrying his backpack

♡ “Kuroo? Why are you here? Also, why do you look so tired??”

♡ He stepped into your house with a yawn. He stretched his arms, then reached for his bag and whipped out his laptop

♡ “I stayed up a bit last night to do some research, babe! I also learned a lot about nutrition and molecular gastronomy, so I could help you come up with a meal plan that you’re okay with!”

♡ You were touched he was educating himself on how to help you

♡ But you drew the line at the science jokes-- (Kuroo: “You know you love them.” ; You: “‘Na’ I don’t.” ; Kuroo: :ooo “Did you just-- Marry me.”) (Na = sodium lol)

♡ His nutritional research helped you to learn the contents of food beyond calories; mans explains the vitamins, nutrients, amino acids, etc in them that you need and their benefits

♡ “Trout, avocados, and almonds have vitamin E, which is good for your skin! Oh, and don’t get me started on bananas. Yes, they have carbs (which your body needs anyway as a source of energy!), but POTASSIUM?? Shit’s gonna regulate your fluid balance, maintain heart health, stimulate normal muscle function, AND help your brain to communicate with the rest of your body!”

♡ ALSO cooking dates; just as chaotic (“Aw mannn, the egg exploded all over the microwave!” dont ask y it was being microwaved)

♡ Over time, he’s taken mental notes about your thoughts, feelings, triggers, etc

♡ He’s quick to pick up on your mood and will always ask you how you’re doing

♡ Tries to do something special for you on days you’re especially not feeling well, like taking you on a spontaneous date! (You: “Do you know how to ice skate?” ; Kuroo: “Uhh,,, after today, I will hopefully”)

♡ But will also opt for staying in with you and cuddling when you don’t want to go out (Kuroo: “I heard this movie is soooo bad! ...wanna watch it?”)

♡ Invited you to the beach with his team during the first week of summer

♡ You were unsure about this, since that meant going out in public, potentially with minimal clothing

♡ You initially sat on a beach towel under an umbrella, wearing the security of a T-shirt. He’d been aware of how you felt ever since he asked you to come, so he would sit with you and link an arm around your shoulder

♡ “I’m lucky I get to spend this day with you,” he’d say. “You look gorgeous. You always do. Now, I wanna see you smile and have fun. Let’s go take a dip, yeah?” He offered his hand, which you shyly took, and pulled you up

♡ Then immediately picked you up and started running to the water to get you soaking wet, and you were forced to ditch the heavy, waterlogged shirt

♡ However, you silently thanked him for his sweet words, making you feel secure enough to just forget your worries and enjoy the warm sun and cool water

♡ He also tries his best to lessen your anxieties over food and often shares/eats meals with you

♡ Reminds you everyday how much you’re worth to him and that there’s nothing about you that needs to change

♡ This sweet, protective, n smart boi will treat you how you deserve. It’s a guarantee he’ll be there through thick and thin, and he’s excited for the day you realize you’re just as amazing as he knows you are 💕

a/n: oop this was rlly long lol mb, i just may or may not personally know a bit about this so i went oFF

also neded to some som silly n fluff bc we all need dat

also, these r like kinda hc’s ?? but also a deconstructed oneshot/scenario?? bc they provide some rly brief bg story? one from more  of the character perspective while the other more on y/n before we get  to the hc’s about how he treats y/n. how everyone struggles w body image is different n i wanted to portray a bit of what it felt like and how it could manifest in ppl’s behaviors/thoughts. however, this is not to say that everyone feels exactly like this. what i wrote only represents a fraction of it all.

by providing some sort of bg i hope im not making u feel like this isnt u  or that u cant relate, pls lmk if i need to change anything to make it  right for u <3 ok now im actually done sry long author’s note  rfguhofe this is just rlly important to me y’all  , stay safe n take care, much luv for u <3

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Chapter XI

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Mentions of Murder, Language, Mentions of Rape Summary: Y/N is Andy and Laurie Barber’s 14-year-old daughter who is a high-grade student in Archer Middle School. Her best friend, Alice Miller had been gone for a while. They search for the lost student and find out that Alice Miller’s body has the prints of Andy and Laurie Barber’s daughter, Y/N.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII

---DEFENDING JACOB SPOILERS---

This story is getting close to its ending. I’m positive there’s three chapters left.

~~~

Fixing the buttons on her shirt, she rolled her sleeves up and began to walk down the stairs. Y/N steps into the dining room where Laurie sat, looking over her formal outfit.

Y/N sighs, “Is it okay?” She asked. “Let me see,” Laurie scans the high-waist pants with a nice leather belt and a white button up. Though she picked out the small details. Laurie shakes her head at the sight, “Your pants are too short, they look big.”

“They’re fine,” Y/N says. “Your shirt’s long. Shit,” Laurie mutters as she stands up to roll them up a little. “Mom, it’s a trial, not some fashion show.” Laurie lifts her head up and strokes her daughter’s hair. “I just want you to look your best, okay? Let people see how beautiful you are. These things are important,” She says.

Milo barks and the front door opens, “Hello?” Andy calls. Laurie perks up, “We’re in here,” She bent down to fix Y/N’s pants and Andy walks in. “Her suit needs altering again.”

Andy walks in, “Only if there’s a trial.” Laurie and Y/N face him, “What do you mean?” Laurie asked. Andy turns, “Lynn approved a search of Patz’s house.” Y/N looks over to Laurie once, “They think it’s him?”

Andy sighs, “Well, no. Not yet. Obviously if they find the knife, that changes everything,” Andy grins, “But at least this puts him back on the radar.” Laurie reaches for his arm, relieved, “Well, that’s something, right?”

“Yeah,” Andy says, his takes her hand and holds it, “I know it’s him. I know it is.” Andy’s phone goes off in his pocket so he pulls it out, “Sorry, girls.” Laurie gently placed her hand on Y/N’s back. “You go change, honey.” Y/N walks off to go change upstairs while Andy walks away into the office.

“Hello?”

“There he is,” A familiar voice grumbles through the phone. Andy lifts his head up, “How’d you get this number?” He asks. 

“Your wife gave it to me-”

“Bullshit,” Andy says, his father chuckles on the other end, “No. No. We got out own, um... you know, we call it economy in here. Believe me, there’s tougher things to get than a phone number.”

“Well, you wasted your money,” Andy said. “Hey, don’t hang up. Come on,” Billy says, “I did what you asked, didn’t I? She’s a real doll, your wife. I mean, even better-looking in person.”

“Don’t,” Andy says sternly. His father pauses, “What? It’s a compliment. She’s my daughter-in-law. Jesus. What kind of a sick fuck you think I am?” He asked. “I know exactly what kind,” Andy says, sighing softly he sits down in the chair.

“Look, I appreciate your helping us.”

“Yeah, well, it’s all right. You see, that was on the news the other day, how you’re my kid,” William says. Andy lifts his head up, nodding, “Yeah, I saw.” Andy wanted this phone call to end or it’ll end up in another fight. “I want you to know, I had nothing to do with that. I said nothing to nobody,” He says.

“These things get out,” Andy said.

“Yeah, these reporters,” William scoffs, “They’re real fucking vultures, right?”

“Is this why you called?” Andy asked. William took a second to respond, “Yeah. I mean, yeah. That and...” William sighs, “I thought we could talk some more.” Andy tilts his head, “Talk?”

“Look, I know I’m a shit father.”

“I don’t have a father,” Andy shook his head. He knew that would piss him off, William scowls, “You don’t have-- Huh,” He says, “How does that work exactly? What are you, a fucking tree?”

“I gotta go,” Andy said.

“Yeah, some other time, maybe,” William says. Andy shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe though.” Andy sat there in silence and pulled the phone away, hanging up. That day he didn’t want to worry about his father. He wanted to worry about Leonard Patz’s search.

.

The next morning, Laurie stepped out of the house, sliding on her cap for her morning run. She began to jog down the road, taking turns on the intersections in the neighborhood as her usual routes. She continued to jog for at least a mile.

Sweat appearing on her back and sweat covering her neck and chest.

She heard a faint sound of a car, pulling up behind her. Laurie made sure she was close enough to the side of the road for this car to pass.

But it never did.

She glanced over her shoulder once, not fully getting the vehicle in her peripheral just yet. She started to get chills as this car continued to stay directly behind her.

Turning, she saw the blue Lincoln. The one Andy spoken about. She felt her heart beat faster and it felt like needles were jabbing into her heart out of fear. Laurie takes a turn on a road, making sure this wasn’t the one Andy was talking about. The one following them.

She looked over her shoulder once again to see this Lincoln slowly turn onto the road she chosen. Her arms swung for frantically as she tried to find some way to escape this Lincoln.

Turning her feet, she stops to face this car. Once she did, the car stops. She barely could see the drivers face, seeing smoke come from their window. Her chest heaved up and down.

Could she take this person on herself?

She choose it at the last second. Twisting her foot, she runs into the neighbors yard. Heading for the wooden fence that separated the homes,  she skids her shoe on the fence.

Throwing herself over, she stumbles on her knees. Running off onto the road, she runs straight back to the house. No stopping, looking back every few seconds.

She turns down the road to make sure this Lincoln wasn’t following her. 

She made a beeline to the red door to their house. Milo barks when Laurie bursts in. “Andy?” She calls, rushing over to the kitchen, she walks in to Duff and Andy at the dining table.

She pants. “No knife,” Andy says.

“What?” Laurie asks.

“They didn’t find the knife,” Andy said, Pam looks over to the distress mother, “At least not one that matches the weapon.” Laurie goes back to the Lincoln car incident, covering her mouth. Pam noticed before Andy did. He shook his head, “Doesn’t mean they’re gonna stop looking at Patz though.

Andy looks up to Laurie’s stance and stood up in concern, “Honey?”

“I, uh--” Laurie stutters, “The blue car, the Lincoln, it was following me.” Andy looks at the door, “Now?” He asked. Laurie grabs his hand, “No, no, no. It’s gone.”

He turns, “Did you look at the driver?” Pam stood up. Laurie shook her head, “No, he was too far away.” Andy sighs softly and reaches for her, pulling her into a hug. “Sorry, Honey.” Laurie exhales.

“Someone’s been watching us. I don’t know if it’s a reporter or some psycho trying to scare us or what,” Andy states, turning to Pam. She nods, “Do you wanna file a report?”

“What good would that do?” He asked, knowing the answer. “Honestly, uh, not much. If it happens again, call me immediately. If I’m in the area,” She says, Laurie nods. “Okay.”

Andy rubs her back, “Thanks, Duff.”

Andy then walked out with Pam back to her car, “You are gonna stay on Patz, right?” He asks. “We’ll comb through everything again, his statement, his movements,” Pam states.

“He lied to us that day. He said he didn’t know Alice Miller,” Andy says, “Or said he went to that party.”

“According to your girl, McGrath,” Pam says, Andy drops his shoulders, “Look, I’m just saying, the kid already admitted to trying to frame Patz on the whole library thing.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, but I believe her on this one. You’ve heard about Y/N, she was sexually assault, I’m sure those tests can’t be run now, can they?” Andy asks, Pam sighs. “I’m not sure. And we’re not sure if they’ll come back with tests.”

Andy sighs, “I’m begging you. Please do not give up on Patz,” He shuffles, “We’re running out of time.” Pam nods at him with a grin, “I’ll do my best.”

And after that, she left.

.

Days just before the trial, Andy had been going over the case with Duffy at her house. Turned into nights and days. The day when he first came up to Patz.

Face-to-face.

Andy watched Patz pull out of his spot in from his last shift. Andy followed him a little away from people. This lying thing wasn’t gonna get Leonard far from jail. Andy needed him to be gone.

He saw Patz stop at the sign of the intersection. Andy’s foot never goes for the brake as he hits the back of Leonard’s car, enough to jerk him forward. Andy does it again and he sees Leonard frantically move in his car.

Andy steps out when Leonard does, “Hey, what are you doing?” Leonard asks. Andy slams his door, “I know.” Andy walks up to him. “What?” Patz asks, completely confused.

“I know what you did,” Andy steps up to him. “What are you talking abo-- You just--” The small man looks up to him and his face drops at the sudden reorganization.

“Oh, fuck, you’re the father.”

“I know you killed her!” Andy grabs him, Patz stutters, “Oh, Jesus, you’re the father. Okay. Um, you need to leave me alone,” Patz goes for his door. Andy glares at him, “My daughter’s not gonna go away because of you. You understand me? You go near her-!”

“Stay away from me,” Patz says, he closes his door. “Hey!” Andy leans to look in his window, “I know what you did!” He growls. Leonard skirts off as Andy hits the side of his car, “I know it was you, Leonard! I know it was you!” He shouts.

That day. Andy would’ve done something far worse.

.

Four days before the trial, it was their important day. A happy day. Y/N sat at the table, listening to her second grade teacher talk about interior angles. Andy walks in with Laurie, grabbing the keys.

“We’ll be back in a few hours,” Andy comes over to Y/N and placed a kiss on her head. “Okay,” Y/N grins. Laurie smiles, “Bye, birthday girl.” Y/N smiles at them and they leave.

.

Their last day with Dr. Vogel was with Joanna this time. Andy and Laurie sat on the one side while Joanna had sat in front of them, waiting patiently. Glancing over at Laurie, Andy reaches over and takes her hand in his. 

Seconds later, the door opens to Vogel, she smiled at them, “I’m ready for you. Come on in,” She says. Andy and Laurie stand up. Walking Laurie in first, Andy gestures Joanna in the second.

.

 “As you know, I’ve been evaluating Y/N for the last several weeks using a number of diagnostic tools: a Basic Personality Inventory, a Problematic Traits Inventory, and all the results, they’re in the report,” Andy looks down at the packet in front of him, “I also tested her IQ which is unusually high and her EQ, her empathy quotient.”

Laurie tilts her head at that, “The report also contains the results from the genetic testing that I conducted, and it includes the MAOA mutation, what’s commonly known as the-the warrior gene or the murder gene.”

Laurie stared blankly at her, “And?”

Elizabeth gestures to her husband, “Andy’s father tested positive for the mutation, as did Andy. Uh, Y/N did not,” She says. Andy was more relieved and shocked at the most as he turns to the doctor, “No?” He asks.

“The thing is, that’s not, um...” She pauses, “MAOA wasn’t really central to my evaluation, since it’s actually inherited from the mother and not the father.” Laurie furrows her brows at that. “Well then, what was the purpose of the testing?” Andy asked.

“Because there are similar genes that are passed down from father to daughter. Um,” Elizabeth flips through a page, “For instance, GRIN-1, which is a glutamate receptor subunit. It’s been linked to traits like impulsivity and recklessness,” The couple go through the packet as well.

“All three generations of Barber males and female tested positive for the GRIN-1 variant, including Y/N. There’s also a dopamine gene linked to a limited capacity for empathy. Uh, again, all three generations of Barber males and female tested positive. And, uh, finally, there’s a form of testosterone receptor known to induce violent behavior in adolescents shortly after puberty--”

“And Y/N--” Laurie cuts off, “Y/N has that form?” She asks. Vogel nods, “Y/N does, yes, as do Andy and Billy.” Laurie glances at Andy who looks up at her. “But if a young person is already capable of moral reasoning there genes won’t just cause the brain to flip a switch.”

Laurie seem to zone off at Vogel’s words as she looked down at the form in front of her. Scanning through the paragraphs of so much information.

capable of violent behavior.

antisocial tendencies.

Laurie continued to lose her hearing towards Vogel’s explanation as she flips through the page again. She scanned through the words again.

manipulative.

cause for concern.

Her hearing seem to come back when Andy speaks, “Well, now we know,” He says. Laurie ignores his gaze as she turns to Dr. Vogel. “And is she capable of moral reasoning?” She asked. Vogel tilts her head.

“There are things in here... um, ‘antisocial tendencies’--”

“Laurie, that’s just psychobabble-” Andy starts, she doesn’t even turn to tell him, “I’m asking Dr. Vogel.”

Dr. Vogel tried to grin but it only caused her lip to twitch, “It’s not a simple yes or no answer,” She replies, “I think you should read the entire report, and then, if you want, we can have a conversation on how to best address Y/N’s issues. But obviously right now the concern isn’t therapy, it’s the trial.”

“So there are issues?” Laurie asks. “She’s a teenager. They all have issues,” Andy says, dropping the packet by his thigh. Dr. Vogel nods, “Andy’s not wrong.” Laurie turns to her again. “However, if there was one area of concern, it would be her capacity for empathy. Once again, the report goes into full detail.”

“How do you mean?” Laurie asks.

“Laurie,” Joanna spoke, “This isn’t really the time to have this conversation.” Laurie points at Vogel, ignoring Joanna, “I want to know what she means.” Andy glances over at Joanna if he or her were to cut in and tell her to stop.

“Well, for example, I brought up Alice Miller in one of our sessions, and, uh, Y/N’s response was that... people die every day by the millions. And when I tried to prod her, to express some-some emotion around Alice’s murder. Y/N’s answers felt, um... practice.”

“That’s because you don’t know her. I mean, she’s not a touchy feely kid, that’s--” Andy looks at Laurie’s side profile and sighed, “She has empathy.” Laurie nods at Vogel, “You think she did it.”

Dr. Vogel shakes her head, “I didn’t say that.” Laurie shook hers, “You didn’t have to.”

“Laurie,” Joanna interjects. Vogel grins, “I have absolutely no way of knowing if Y/N did or did not do it. And it’s also not my job.”

“But you think she might have done it,” Laurie implies. “Laurie, this isn’t productive,” Joanna defends. Laurie ignores Joanna again, taking that grin as a lie, “You do. You think it’s possible.”

“Will you stop?” Andy asks, “Anything in there you could say about a million other teenagers.”

“Very true,” Vogel says.

“Then why won’t you answer me?” Laurie asks. Andy turns, “Laurie-”

“Don’t,” She snaps, “You never see these things, you never saw them then.” Andy sits there in silent, “You were so desperate to be normal, for us all to be normal.”

“We are normal,” Andy says. Laurie gapes, “Oh, my God, Andy, do you think this is normal?” Andy’s shoulders lift, “This situation?” He asks, “Of course not, but Y/N, yes. I know she is. And this-” Andy grabs the packet, “-this doesn’t change anything. This means nothing!” He waves it around.

Laurie turns back to Vogel, “Just answer me,” Laurie demands. The two watch Laurie and Dr. Vogel stare at each other for a while till Vogel sadly frowns, “I wish I could.”

With that answer, Laurie couldn’t push it any further but to give her a gently nod. Ending the session there.

Laurie storms out of the elevator with Andy following behind. He looks up to her, “Look, we can just call this off and do something at home.” Laurie shook her head, “No. She’s about to go through hell. We’re doing this.” Andy follows her out to the car, on their way to celebrate their daughter’s 15th birthday.

.

Y/N had her hands in her lap as Andy and Laurie sat in front of her at the table. Plates and drinks on the table, a woman comes in, “How’s everything?” Andy turns with a smile, “Good. Thank you.” The waitress nods with a grin as she closes the door.

Andy turned back to his daughter, pulling up the small cup up to his lips. Y/N blankly stared at them, “I don’t see why you guys won’t tell me,” She mutters. Laurie pulls her bowl away, “Because it’s between us and Dr. Vogel.”

Y/N switches her gazes at them, “What happened to me being treated like an adult?” She leans in her chair, “This is such bullshit.”

Andy looks at her, “Hey, enough with the swearing. It’s like every other word with you.”

“I have a right to know about my own brain,” Y/N says, “I took every one of her tests. I answered every single one of her stupid questions.” Andy tilts his head forward, “She thought you were a good kid, which we already knew. This whole thing’s formality,” He grins softly at her, “Okay?”

Y/N never grinned back, “I don’t believe you.” Andy loses the grin. “Sweetheart, it’s your birthday. Let’s talk about something else,” Laurie says. Y/N looks over and pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“What about the murder gene?” She asks.

“You don’t have it,” Laurie says, managing a smile. Y/N looks over and she licks her lips, “Really?” Laurie nods at her. Andy grins, “Really.” Y/N looks over to him and slightly lifts up the corner of her mouth to grin.

“So there’s nothing wrong wit me?”

Laurie and Andy didn’t answer that, guess they didn’t have the time to when the waitress walks in. Holding a cupcake on a plate, it had a candle that was lit. Andy and Laurie smiled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Andy says.

The waitress comes over and places the small plate in front of her, the couple look over to Y/N with a smile. “Happy birthday,” Laurie says. Andy grins, “Make a wish,” He said.

Y/N manages a grin and pulls the plate over, “I guess I have one,” She says. She stares at the cupcake and lightly blows on it, blowing the light out.

.

Later that night, they went home. The drive was silent halfway through. Laurie staring out the window and Y/N sitting behind her. A long day and night for the Barber family on their daughter’s birthday.

“Thank you for tonight,” Y/N utters out, she paused, “It was nice to go normal again, even if... it was just pretending.” Andy quirks a grin and sighs, “It was your mom’s idea,” He says.

Laurie turns to look, “Glad you had a good time.” Andy stolen a glance over to Laurie, knowing that their daughter did have a good time after what’s been going on for the past months. Even in a few days it was scary.

Y/N shook that off, lifting her head up, “I think I’m ready for Monday,” She says. Andy peers up in the rear view mirror. “Yeah?” Y/N nods in response, humming as a yes. “Mrs. Mandel had me write an essay about it the other day. I said it was like sailing towards an iceberg. This little white peak in the distance, getting closer and closer...”

Andy peered up at her again as she stared out the window, “...but really, it’s been underneath us the whole time.” Laurie and Andy look at each other. Andy seem to grin at her sudden words of phrases and metaphors. Y/N was not into that sort of things in school.

“I thought you were anti-metaphor?” He asked. Y/N turns to look in the rearview mirror to see Andy, grinning at her. She laughs softly and turns away. The rest of the ride was quiet once they reached their neighborhood.

Andy on the other hand, his blood ran cold when he sees a car parked outside, at his neighbors house. The same blue lincoln, that followed Laurie. Laurie noticed as well, “Oh, my God. It’s that car.” When Andy pulls in, Laurie kept her eyes on him. Andy didn’t even pull up all the way, he needed to get the guy before he runs away.

Y/N sees Andy turn off the car and popped the truck open. “Andy, don’t-”

“Wait here,” Andy says. “Dad?” Y/N calls, he shuts his door and walks to the back. Going to the open truck, he takes the car socket wrench and shuts his trunk. “Mom, what’s he doing?” Y/N asked. Laurie opens the door, “Andy!”

Andy turns, “Take Y/N inside.” The two step out of the car, worried and afraid. “Mom, what’s he doing? What’s going on?” Y/N asked, looking over to see her father storm towards the car. 

Laurie takes her shoulders, “It’s all right. Come on.” Milo starts barking in the house, giving the neighborhood a nice echo of it. Andy stared at the Lincoln car, storming his way over with a weapon, the man in the car didn’t seem to start his car and drive off. He sat and took drags from his cigarette.

He comes over to the drivers side, “What the hell do you want with us?” Andy asks harshly, the man turns, “Excuse me?” Andy stops at the open window, pointing. “You’ve been watching my house and following my wife.”

The man turns away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, pal.”

Andy grits his teeth, “I’m not gonna ask you again.” The bald man looks up to the distressed husband and father. “Easy, tough guy. You don’t want to be a tough guy tonight, believe me.”

“I don’t want to see you on this street again,” Andy says lowly. The man nods towards the road, “It’s a public street.” Andy raises the wrench to the man, warning him, “Not for you it’s not.”

The bald man turns away, not phased by Andy’s little wrench threat. “You should get back to your family,” He nods, “It’s good to have a family.” Andy slowly lowers the wrench. 

“Take care of that family of yours, Mr. Barber.” And after that, the man drove off. But Andy was lucky enough to catch the plate number on his car. He took it to Duffy immediately.

.

“Yeah, 75K SA2. Yeah,” Andy stood on the phone as his daughter and Laurie were in the kitchen with him. Milo laid on the hard floor, peering up at the family. Andy curses under his breath, “No, I figured as much. It’s okay. Thanks, Duff. Okay,”  He hangs up and stared at the phone in hand. 

“It’s registered to a Honda Accord,” Andy says.

Y/N turns, “So, it’s stolen?” Andy walks over to the counter to put the house phone away, “All it takes is a screwdriver.” Laurie looks at him, “So what now?” Andy turns to the family, “Duff’s gonna have one of her guys patrol the neighborhood for the next couple nights,” Andy shakes his head, “I doubt he’ll come back. He’s probably just a reporter.”

Laurie sighs and shook her head, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Andy and Y/N watch Laurie go up the stairs. “Good night, Mom.” Laurie stops to look at Y/N, she grins at her, “Thank you for tonight.”

Laurie nods, “Good night, sweetheart. Happy birthday.” And after that.

They hit the iceberg.

.

Laurie and Andy stood at the end of the stairs, waiting for their daughter to come down. Today was her first trial. Anything during that trial could end there or could go downhill at any moment. 

Andy never felt that way to be on the other side of his job. Looking down at Laurie, his wife didn’t smile. In fact, she was fidgeting, afraid and nervous on what could go on during that trial.

He knew there will be ways to tell the jury Y/N’s innocent.

Y/N stepped down the stairs, high-waisted dress pants with a brown leather belt. Her white buttoned up was nice and pale. It would probably be as pale as Laurie was.  

Andy tried to grin. Who knew if he’d see her step down those stairs in a prom dress. Or a wedding dress. He may or may not see that. Her hair was up in a bun, a neat one. No makeup because Y/N knew she’d be doing too much and asking for people to say she was innocent with all the makeup.

Once Y/N met the floor with them, they managed to smile at her. Reassuringly. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Andy says. Y/N forces a grin on her face, “Thanks, dad.” Laurie forces one as well to stroke the small strand behind her ear. “You ready?” She asked.

Y/N looks up and nods slowly. The confidence she had on her birthday, it all changed when it was the day. She was scared. The family headed to the garage, knowing that reporters and police would be at their house. They could hear them clamor on the street. Andy opens up the garage door and revealed the driveway. 

News reporters and journalists all clamoring around, taking pictures and shouting. Andy and Laurie look at each other before Andy drives forward. Y/N instantly laid her head low as reporters took pictures of them through the windows. Andy was careful enough to not hit any of the reporters.

Safely they away from the crowd and drove to the courthouse.

.

Y/N sat with Joanna in the courtroom, her leg bouncing up and down nervously. Andy and Laurie sat behind the two. Her eyes looking at the back of Y/N’s head, she drew them away once Joanna leaned in to whisper something to her.

Andy looks over to the commonwealth stand, seeing Neal and what was his assistant. He turned away and looked up to the front. He felt someone stare in the corner of his eye.

Eric. Alice’s father. Andy turned to realize Eric had been staring, he quickly turned away from Eric and stared up in front again. Seconds later, Joanna turns to nod at Laurie and Andy.

Then Y/N did, Andy was the first to smile at her reassuringly. You got this. Y/N nods at them with a small grin and turned away.

“Court, all rise!” The woman shouts, Joanna grins at Y/N and everyone began to stand, “Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye. All persons having anything to do before the Honorable Judge French, a Justice of the Superior Court, now sitting within and for the Commonwealth, draw near, give your attendance, and you shall be heard.”

Judge French sat down in his chair and looked down, “God save the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and this most honorable court. This court’s not open. Please be seated,” The woman finishes off. Everyone in the court sat down. And the woman in front of French stood up.

“Number 08-44-07, Commonwealth versus Y/N M/N Barber. A single count of murder in the first degree. For the defendant, Joanna Klein. For the Commonwealth, Assistant District Attorney Neal Logiudice.”

French sighs softly, “Any preliminary motions before we begin the voir dire.” Joanna grins, “A couple of things, yes, Your Honer,” She stood up. “First the defendant’s father, Andrew Barber would like to enter an appearance in the case on the defendant’s behalf.”

Andy gets a look from Neal when he turns around, “With the court’s permission, he’s going to second chair me at trial.” French folded his hands, “Is this a wise decision, Ms. Klein?” He asked.

“It is the family’s wish, Your Honor.” French stares at the man before nodding, “All right, Mr. Barber, you can come forward. What else?” He asked. Andy stands up as the Miller family look over in shock. Andy gets a chair pulled up next to Y/N.  

Joanna continues, “Your Honor, I have filed a motion in limine to exclude any mention of the defendant’s grandfather William Barber who is currently serving a life sentence for first-degree murder. We believe the Commonwealth may try to introduce this fact to prejudice the jury.-”

Neal stands up, “Your Honor, the Commonwealth contends that the family’s history of violence is of great relevance.” Andy glances at Y/N and he gently placed his hand on her knee. She relaxed under his touch.

Joanna turns, “Your Honor, my client has never once met the--”

“I get it,” French says, “I read the motion.” He thinks for a bit and spoke again, “Defendant’s objection is noted and tabled. Should the Commonwealth decide William Barber’s criminal record is critical to his case, he will first notify the defense, and then we’ll have a hearing on the matter. Otherwise, not a word about this to the jury.”

Joanna grins, “Thank you, Your Honor.” Neal nods towards French, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Lastly, the defense moves to expand its witness list by two: Madelyn McGrath and Leonard Patz.” Joanna takes the paper and hands it over to the Judge. “Commonwealth?” French asked for an objection.

“We’re fine with it, Your Honor.” French takes the paper, “All right, let’s bring in the jury venire.”

“All rise for the jury,” The woman declares.

.

Y/N sat down with Laurie, Andy, and Joanna in a small room. Andy and Joanna were going over things, “Retired bus driver, works with kids. That’s good.” Joanna nods, “Yeah, I liked her. Thanks, Ellen,” She says to the woman who walked in.

Y/N lifts up her head, “They kept staring at me,” She says. Joanna turns, “Oh, you’ll get used to that. Just keep your eye on the judge as much as possible--or on your dad and me.”

Andy looks up to her, “Don’t give ‘em any reason to not like you. No faces. Okay?” He asks. Y/N nods, “You’re doing great so far,” Joanna states. The woman sets up a small snack plate in front of her. “You all are,” Joanna adds. Laurie doesn’t even grin.

.

“You see, this wasn’t just an average girl, the defendant. No, something set her apart,” Neal says, looking towards the jury. Neal points at Andy, “Her father. A father who was the first assistant district attorney. Top man, right here in this building.” Andy looks towards the jury.

“For years, the defendant watched her father prosecute every major murder case in this county. She listened to dinner conversations. Overheard calls, shop talk,” Neal walks forward, staring at Y/N. 

He never met her once. He heard about her a million times though. It’s all Andy would talk about. “You might even say that murder was the family business.” Andy peers up at Neal. You’re pushing it, Logiudice.

“But still, the question remains ‘Why’?” He looks at Y/N who returned with a cold look. She kept her face cold and blank. “Why?” He asked, “Would an eighth grade girl kill her classmate? Well, we’ve all been to school. We know kids can be mean.”

Neal turns away from the girl and looks onward, “You’re gonna hear testimony that the victim in this case, Alice Miller, teased the defendant.” Laurie turns to see the Miller family. Eric reached for his wife’s hand.

“Nothing shocking, but still mean,” Neal says, he stood directly in front of the jury, “Alice foolishly mocked this young girl, unaware of her hidden capacity even desire, to kill.”

“Objection,” Joanna calls out. Andy sighs and glared at Neal. “Sustained,” French says, “The jury will disregard the last remark about the defendant’s desire, which is speculation.”

Neal never turns, “And so, on April 12, the defendant walked into the woods of Cold Spring Park after the party of Emily Winston’s with a knife in her pocket and an idea in her mind.” Y/N looks away and stared in front of her. Joanna and Andy both watched Neal closely.

“Did she ambush the victim, or were there words exchanged first? Maybe Alice called her a name. Or even threatened her. We don’t know,” Neal says, “All we know is that the defendant punched her knife three times into Alice Miller’s chest, killing her.”

Softly he says, “Three.” Laurie looks up to Y/N again, “Evenly spaced wounds,” Neal adds. Neal holds out his hand as if he were holding a knife, he gently moved it forward, “One.” He looks at the jury, “Two.” Then he turns to the girl who looked over to him as well.

“Three.” Y/N stood her gaze on him. Not moving a muscle.

.

“You see a tragedy as enormous as this, and it makes you furious,” Joanna turns to the jury, “You want someone to pay. I do, too. I do. It’s only human. But Y/N Barber is innocent. And I want to say that again,” Andy looks over to his daughter who had her eyes on Joanna the whole time she spoke. He tilts his head to see her whole face, seeing her cold stare.

“So that there is no misunderstanding. Y/N Barber is wholly and completely innocent,” Joanna takes her hands and holds Y/N’s shoulders. “When you understand what really happened that day, you’ll see this case for what is it-- a rush to judgement.” She holds her hand out.

“The fingerprint, for example, that the prosecution made such a big deal about, you’re going to hear how that print got there, just as Y/N told the police officer who arrested her the moment that she was asked. She saw her classmate lying on the ground, and she tried to help. And when she discovered that Alice was dead, saw all that blood, she panicked.”

Eric pulls a tissue up to his eyelids, catching the tears that fallen, holding his wife Marla. “She feared that if she told someone about the body, she’d become a suspect. After all, this was Alice Miller, the girl who bullied her. Everyone knew that. How would it look?” Joanna asks.

The jury sat in silence, “Does Y/N wish that she had been braver from the start and told the truth? Of course she does. It was the worst mistake she’s ever made. It was horrible, terrifying mistake. But she was a girl. And I don’t give a damn how the state chooses to try her. She was a 14-year-old girl. And girls make mistakes.”

Joanna sighs, “But we are adults... with a grave responsibility before us. A child is dead. Don’t destroy another child’s life to make up for it. That isn’t justice. That’s just another tragedy.” 

.

After a few hours. Morning to the afternoon, the Barber family went through those doors to the outside. Reporters and journalists all clamoring around each other as they surround the family. Joanna was in front as she made space for the family to come by. Andy was behind, protecting Y/N as he looked up to spot the same man.

He stops to see him nod at him. He snapped back when reporters called out his name so he follows behind and catches up to Y/N. He held her shoulder. Once they stepped into the garage, Andy had his phone up to his ear.

“It’s definitely the same guy. Yes, I’m sure. Blue Lincoln. Right. You still have that plate number I sent you?” He asked, Joanna turns to him, “Okay. Thanks, Duff.” He pulls his phone down and Joanna looks at him. 

“What was that about?” She asked. Andy shakes his head, “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” Joanna sighs, “Okay, well, make sure they get some rest. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay,” He jumps in the car with Y/N and Laurie.

.

That night, Y/N sat at her desk. Milo laying down on her bed as Y/N watched the news. A news reporter sat in front of their house that night, giving updates about the trial that day. Y/N looks out the window and saw the exact man on her laptop.

She turned away and heard her phone ding. Looking over she sees Matt’s name pop up.

From Matt hey

She reached for her phone and began to type. She replied with the same thing. Y/N relaxed in her chair and leaned back, kind of glad to have him back. Along with Sarah if she was okay.

Sent So how was YOUR guys day?”

She waited for his response, seeing the dots pop up every once in a while. Matt seem very unsure what to say.

From Matt LOL. r u ok? it looked intense on tv. sarah and i were watching

Y/N grins softly at the thought of ice cream and began to type away.

Sent Free ice cream would help.

And that night, they continued to text.

.

Laurie holds her glass in hand, staring out the window to the news reporters who just finished off their shooting in front of the house. Taking her pill, she swallows it and heard footsteps come in. Andy appeared and leaned on the counter, “Just got off the phone with Duffy,” He says, “It’s not good. Just hear me out.” Laurie placed her glass down.

“What?” She asks.

“His name is James O’Leary, the guy in the Lincoln. They call him Father O’Leary,” Andy says. Laurie furrows her brows, “They?”

“I guess he’s an old gangster. He’s got a record. Duffy said he used to be some sort of muscle. Now he hires himself out to do, you know, small things, roughing people up, that sort of thing.”

Laurie gapes at him, “Are you kidding me? What does he want with us?”

“I don’t know,” Andy replied. Laurie throws her arms out, “What are we supposed to do? Can’t they arrest him? Question him?” Andy sighs, “Not unless he explicitly threatens us.”

“Oh, my God,” Laurie says and turns away, covering her face. “Duffy said she’s gonna keep an eye on him. I know it doesn’t sound good, but odds are it’s probably just someone trying to scare us.”

Laurie turns to him, “Because we’re not scared enough already.” And with that, she passed by him.

.

“My heart was kind of pounding then, because she wasn’t answering me. Uh, still, I couldn’t see how she looked until I got close,” The woman says, sitting at the witness stand.

Neal stood in front of her, “And did you call for help?” The woman nods, “I remember crawling backwards up the slope, dialing 911.” Neal nods and turns away, “Thank you, Mrs. Gianetto.”

The judge turns to Joanna, “Ms. Klein.” Joanna rested her head on her hand, “No questions, Your Honor.” The next witness was an old man. Said to have heard voices in the park.

“So you said this was heard in the dog park?” Neal asks. The man nods, “The dog park, yes,” He confirms. Neal looks at him, “What time was this?” Neal asks.

The man shrugs, “Around nine, nine-thirty pm,” He says, “Like I said, it sounded like a girl’s voice I heard. She said, ‘Stop. You’re hurting me. Stop. You’re hurting me’.” Y/N looks over to the jury and saw that one of them looked at her. A cold stare.

“Could you tell what direction that girl’s voice came from?” The words in Y/N’s mind was distant. Clouded in her mind when the woman looked away from her. “West, I think.”

And after that. The next witness came up to the stand. “Detective, is it standard procedure for an assistant district attorney to direct a homicide investigation?” Neal asked.”

Peterson glanced at Andy, “Yes.”

“And who was the assistant DA assigned to the case that day?” Neal asked. Joanna calls, “Objection. Relevance.” Neal scoffs at that with a grin. French raises his hand, “See counsel at side bar.”

Joanna and Neal walk in front of the judge. Joanna leans forward, “Your Honor, I don’t see how Mr. Barber’s brief involvement in this case has anything to do with his daughter’s innocence or guilt,” She says. Neal looks over to him, “Your Honor, the jury is entitled to hear that the defendant’s own father was in charge of the early stages of the investigation.”

French sighs softly and looks back at them, “I’m going to allow it, but I warn you counselor. Mr. Barber is not on trial here. Remember that.” Neal nods and Joanna looks at him, “Yes, Your Honor. Understood.”

The two head back to their original spots and French pulls the microphone back, “Witness will answer the question.”

Peterson looks back to Neal, “Andrew Barber was in charge.” Neal turns to him but his body faced the jury, “And did you find it strange that Mr. Barber was handling a case that involved his own daughter’s classmate?” Peterson shook his head.

“Not really, no.”

“And once his daughter was charged with the murder? Any concerns?” Neal asks. Peterson thought about it, shaking his head, “I wasn’t happy about it.” Andy was twirling the pen between his fingers, staring at Peterson.

“Detective, have you ever heard of a prosecutor being involved in the investigation into his own child?”

“Objection,” Joanna says.

“Sustained,” French calls out, “You’re made your point, counselor. Let’s move it along.” Neal shakes his head at him, “No further questions, Your Honor.” Neal went to sit back at his table.

“Ms. Klein,” French called. Joanna stands up and walks over to the witness stand, coming face-to-face with Detective Peterson. 

“Detective Peterson, you were among the first at the crime scene. Was there a murder weapon found that day?” She asked. Peterson shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Besides a single fingerprint on the victim’s sweater, was there any evidence recovered that day?” Joanna asks. Peterson shook his head again, “No.” Joanna nods, “And of course, the fingerprint wasn’t identified until later. Yes?”

“Yes. Correct,” He said. “So is it fair to say that at the beginning of the investigation neither you nor Mr. Barber had any obvious suspects?”

“We did not.”

“And was the defendant the first suspect to emerge?” She asked. Peterson thought and realized from before they got to Y/N. Patz. “No. We initially just--”

“Objection,” Neal interrupts, “Relevance?” He called. French swayed in his chair and kept a plain face, “Overruled.” Joanna was able to continue her questions. “We initially pursued a suspect named Leonard Patz. He had a record for indecent assault and battery on kids, things like that.”

“So a registered sex offender, and that’s what made him a person of interest?”

Peterson nods, “That, and he lived near the park.” 

“He didn’t just live near the park. He was know to walk in the park most mornings and nights. Isn’t that true?” Joanna asks. Neal blinks at them, “Objection. Leading the witness.”

“Overruled.”

Peterson spoke, “Yes. In fact, he admitted to being in the park that same night.” Andy nods in approval knowing they’re gonna get something on Patz and bring him up. He didn’t grin but he knew this was close. “No more questions. Thank you,” Joanna says.

Neal stands up once Joanna turns away from the witness. “Detective, whose idea was it to pursue the investigation into Leonard Patz?” He asked. Peterson draws his gaze down, then looked back up, “Andy Barber brought it to my attention.”

“Andy Barber. I see,” Neal said, “And Mr. Patz was then cleared when Mr. Barber’s own daughter was charged with the crime.” Andy holds his pen and began to write things down, his brows go inward in focus. 

“Yes,” Peterson states. Neal shook his head, “No further questions, Your Honor.” Andy slides the note across the table and Joanna looks down, reading it. “Your Honor, we’d like to recross,” She calls.

“Go ahead.”

Joanna stands up again and walks over, “Detective, when Mr. Logiudice asked if you had cleared Leonard Patz, were you certain of his innocence?” She asks.

“Certain? No,” He said. “Did you agree with Mr. Barber’s decision to investigate Leonard Patz?” Peterson nods at her question, “Yes. Absolutely.” Joanna nods, “What about other decisions Andy Barber made? Any concerns at all?”

“None I can think of,” He replied, he nods at Andy, “He’s the best they got. The best they used to have anyway.” Neal reaches for his face and rubs it frustratingly. “Thank you, Detective. No further questions,” She says.

French sits up, “Commonwealth, you prepared to call your next witness?” Neal looks at him and then down at the table, “Uh, yes, Your Honor.”

.

“The beam refracts through each slit and makes a pattern of light and dark stripes on the other side. Why?” Joanna asks towards Y/N, “Because light isn’t made of particles, but...”

Y/N grins, “Waves?” Andy grins. “Exactly,” Joanna says, “And it is the intersection of the waves that make the patterns.” Laurie grinned towards the old woman and Y/N, having takeout in their home was warming. “So these physicists decide that they’re gonna solve what’s going on by installing a device that allows them to see exactly which slit each electron is passing through.”

Y/N was listening closely to Joanna, like she was in a science classroom. Y/N loved to learn knew things and it was nice to have her bond with her lawyer. “Only the moment that they try to observe it, the electrons stop behaving like waves and behave like particles again.”

“What?” Y/N asks, “That’s impossible.” Andy’s phone buzzes and he reaches for it.Reading that it was a caller from Connecticut. He knew the phone number was familiar. “Google it,” Joanna says. “I’ll be right back,” Andy states, standing up and heading into the other room.

Hearing Joanna talk, he answers, “Hello? What the hell did I say about calling here?” He asked.

“I just want to now how it’s going,” His father says. “What?” Andy asks. William scoffs, “What do you mean, ‘what?’ The trial. She’s my granddaughter. I got a right to know,” He said.

“Listen to me very carefully. You don’t have a right to shit. Okay?” He asks.

“Maybe I got a right to call one of these reporters that keeps trying me, huh?” 

“Do whatever you want,” Andy said. “Come on. I just wanna know what are you thinking, I mean, what’s your strategy?” William asked. Andy rolls his eyes, “I’m watching it all day on the news here. I think the kid’s got a chance. But, you know, you gotta be smart about this.”

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know they gave out law degrees in prison,” Andy says.

“That’s funny,” William sarcastically says, “You think prison’s a fucking joke?” Andy sits on the edge of his desk and lowers his head. “Let me tell you something. This is sure as hell no place for a kid like Y/N. Now one of the, uh, witnesses today, this cop who was on the stand, he mentioned this guy Patz.”

“What about him?” Andy asked.

“Well, you think he did it?” Billy asked. Andy doesn’t respond and lifts up his head. “Do you?” Billy asked. “Yeah,” Andy replied.

“Are you sure?” He asks. Andy sighs, “Look, I gotta go.”

“Guy’s a child molester, right?” Billy asks. Andy stands up from the desk, “Sort of.”

“How-- How the fuck are you ‘sort of’ a child molester?” Billy asked. Andy kept his eyes narrow, “Same way you were a murderer before you actually murdered someone,” He says.

“Why you gotta make it about me? Huh?” He asks, “Why don’t you fucking quit worrying about what I am and start worrying about my granddaughter?”

“Don’t call here again,” Andy says. “I mean it. You keep her out of this place! You hear me? I spent my whole fucking life in this shithole. I’m not gonna stand by while my granddaughter’s life--” Andy pulls away and hangs up, leaving Billy on the phone.

Walking back into the kitchen, he sees Laurie put plates away. He looked over to the table, “Did Joanna leave?” He asked. Laurie looks up, “Yeah. Who was that?” She asked.

Andy looks down, “Oh, it was, uh... credit card company, just confirming some charges.” Laurie nods slowly and grins, “Joanna seemed... optimistic.” Andy nods, “You know, I’m starting to think she should be.”

That night, Laurie had finished cleaning Y/N’s outfit for her next trial, hanging them on a hanger and began to head towards her room. Hearing a boy’s voice, she knocked and walked in.

Laurie grins, “Hey,” She says. Y/N looks up, “Hold on one second,” She says to the screen. Y/N looks up, “Hey.” Laurie reaches over to put her outfit on the door knob, “I’m hanging these on your door.” Y/N grins and nods. “Thank you.”

“Who you talking to?” Laurie asked.

“Matthew and Sarah,” She replies. Laurie lifts up her brows, smiling, “Oh. Okay. Tell her I said hi.”

“Okay,” And after that, Laurie closed her door. Y/N turns back to the screen and grins, “Sorry about that.” Matthew laughs, “So, anyway, um, this lady comes in with her kids, right? And they’re just so loud and obnoxious. And we were like ‘Oh, my gosh. Shut up already-”

Laurie hears Y/N laugh and they continued on with their story. Not knowing what could ha en next in their trial.

~~~

There’s a chat that’s so toxic right now and my anxiety is getting to me so I need to calm down. I’ll continue to write

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[korgidorgi]

TLOU2&Supergirl Crossover x Reader - Part 3

Word Count: 1779

Warnings: Swearing

Part 1 - P2

You wake up in a bright room. You blink repeatedly as you bring your arm up to shield your eyes from the lights. You feel something inserted into your right arm that's connected to a cord of some sort. You sit up, taking in your surroundings. You’re in a hospital bed, in a hospital room, with hospital equipment around you. You’re in a gown, and you've got bandages in some places, bandaids in others, and some uncovered clean scrapes. Pretty sure you’ve got stitches in other places as well.

“Fuck is this shit…?” You mumble to yourself, fully waking up. “They fucking changed my clothes. Where’s my shit?”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up. You reach to rip the tape off the IV and take the thing out of your arm and let the tube fall to the side, blood starting to drip down your arm. You look around the room for your clothes, your backpack, and your weapons, but they’re nowhere to be found.

The door opens, startling you. A woman walks in, and just like the woman from your dream, she looks professional. Her auburn hair is slicked back and her black suit is clean.

“How are you doing?” She asks calmly. “Keep holding pressure to that, it’ll help the bleeding stop.” She pokes her head out of the door. “Nurse!” She closes the door and faces you again.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, now holding your hand to apply pressure to the place of insertion. “Where’s my stuff?” You refrain from giving away Abby and Lev’s existences in case the place you’re in doesn’t already have them locked up somewhere.

“You’re in a secret Government agency building called the DEO, the Department of Extranormal Operations.” She answers. “We had to look through your stuff for security reasons. You need to sit down and keep applying pressure, you’ll bleed out.”

“You do not touch my shit.” You snap at her. “Where are my clothes?”

“We had to remove them to treat your wounds. You had many lacerations and abrasions all over your body-”

You cut her off, “Any bite marks?”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me: Did I have any bite marks?”

“No. You didn't.” she answers, slightly taken aback by your tone and language.

“Thank fuck.” You sigh, waiting a moment before locking eyes with her again. “I want my shit back.”

“You’ll get it back after you get cleaned up and answer my questions next.” She informs you.

“I need it. Now.” You growl. The audacity of this place! Fucking change your clothes, take your shit, wont give it back?

“I need you to get cleaned up first. I need to talk to you.” She holds firm on her orders. “Based on the contents on your body and in your bag, you’re a possible threat to the public.”

You scowl at her before hesitantly complying. A nurse comes in to treat your issue, holding pressure to the wound with gauze until it stops bleeding. She places a small amount of tape on top of another gauze pad.

The security woman then leads you to the showers, letting you pick out some clothes from a small collection the facility had.

“I’ll wait outside.” She informs, letting you get cleaned up alone.

You quickly take a shower, your habit of saving water kicking in. You turn it off and on until you finish. You rub yourself dry enough and put your selection of clothes on. You then swing open the door, meeting the soldiers gaze.

“This way.” She leads you down a few halls and into what looks to be an interrogation room.

“Have a seat.” She orders, pulling a chair to a table for you.

You hesitantly do as she asks, not wanting to make it harder for yourself. She has a gun at her side, and other soldiers walk throughout the base with weapons as well. She takes a moment to gather notes, and sits down across from you at the table.

“Where did you come from?” She asks.

“Last I know I was in National City inside a torn down building.” You answer angrily.

“How did you manage to get past L-Corps security and break into the lab?” She pries further.

“Well fuck if I know, I fell from the ceiling into a completely perfect place.” You retort. “I was in that Lab, but it was all fucked up. Now it's all pristine and shit. Where the hell am I?”

“So you came through an interdimensional portal?” She elaborates.

“I don’t fucking know, seems extraordinary.” You answer, not believing a single word about a portal. “Either I came through a portal, You guys kidnapped me, or this is all a fucking dream.”

“And what were those… things… that came in with you?” Her question makes you do a double take.

“What?”

“You heard me. What came through that portal with you?”

“Wait, you’re telling me you have no idea what those things are?” You ask in disbelief.

“Yes, now answer the damn question.” She finally seems to be ticked off a bit.

“You really have no idea do you?” You gape at her. “You- you never had the outbreak?”

“What outbreak?” She asks. “What are those things?”

“Fuck… Where the hell am I?” You wonder aloud. “You’re telling me that the Human Cordyceps never existed?”

“Cordyceps?”

“Yes. It's a fungus that affects people. It can manipulate the brain, making people insane and attack others.” You explain. “It's what created those… things. It gets to a point where the fungus grows outside of the body, and if it gets to the Shambler or Bloater stage, well, good fucking luck. That shit’s like armor.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me those things are people?” She asks.

“Well, yeah. Used to.” You state. “Is this a dream? Or am I really in another dimension where the world never went to shit?” You ask.

“No, you’re in a real world.” She confirms.

“No fucking way.” You try to wrap your head around it. “Wait, please tell me you didn’t open the door.”

“What door?”

“The door in the lab with the dead bodies.” You elaborate.

“I was going to send down a team shortly to deal with it.” She explains.

“Don’t fucking open it. You get one person Infected, the entire city gets Infected, and soon enough, the entire country and world as well.” You warn. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with, and neither did my world and that’s exactly how this type of shit happens.”

“What happened in your world?” She asks.

“Well, It did happen back in 2013 or something, like 25 years ago or something, but from stories I’ve heard, one person got it in a city, and somehow, everyone in the city got it.” You narrate the stories to the best of your ability. “It didn’t really kick in until a day or so later. Just, suddenly, everyone turned on each other. They became what we now call Runners. It’s the first stage of infection.”

“So, you're also from the future?” She asks.

“I don’t know, what year is it?” You ask.

“2020.”

“Well then, yeah, I’m definitely from the future; 2039.” You declare. “But anyways, the entire country went to shit. The government tried to control it but they had no idea what they were dealing with. Nobody knew. I think it really originated in a hospital where people were showing up with strange symptoms. They then started acting crazy, some of the doctors died because of it. That's where it all started to spread like wildfire, cause the patients escaped their room and went AWOL.”

“Damn.” She leans back in her chair, thinking about what you just said. “I never got your name. I’m Director Alex Danvers.”

“Y/N L/N.” You introduce yourself.

“We obviously don’t know what we’re dealing with. We’ll seal off the Lab, nobody opens that door.” Alex explains. “You seem to know a lot about this, I would like to task you with writing something, a paper, a brochure, an encyclopedia, anything, with all the information you know about the Infection. I want to take this as seriously as possible. I want to prevent any outbreak anywhere. I don’t want any infections in this facility, in this city, in this country.” She explains your new task. “In return, I will work to get you back to your world.”

“You’re not like other directors of government programs.” You comment, putting her a bit on edge. “ I’ll help you get a handle on this. I wasn’t around to see the first outbreak and I sure as hell ain’t ready to see or know of any other outbreak.”

“I look forward to working with you then.” Alex says, extending her hand to shake.

You take her hand and she gets up to escort you out of the room. She walks you through multiple hallways to a sort of main control room. It's full of people with monitors in front of a giant wall of TVs. There's a large circular table in the center of the room, and someone dressed as a superhero is standing at the table. She perks up when she sees you and Alex approaching.

“Y/N, this is Supergirl, she's from a planet called Krypton. Supergirl, this is Y/N, she will be working with us to handle the incident.” Alex introduces. 

“Wait, you have aliens here?” You ask, shocked at the Kryptonian in front of you.

“Yeah, the majority of the city is pretty pro-alien.” Supergirl smiles at you.

Alex then calls out to the soldiers and techs, “I don’t want anyone opening the door to the room containing the strange creatures. I want the area cleared of any people, and I want it sealed off from any sort of use.”

A chorus of “Yes, Ma’am”s echo about the room.

 Alex informs, pulling the caped blonde aside. “Supergirl, we’re going to need to give her a place to stay while we work to get her back to her world.”

“I wouldn’t mind letting her stay at my place.” She offers.

“Alright, it's settled.” Alex says, turning to you. “Y/N, as you will be here for god knows how long, you’ll be staying with my sister, Kara. She’s offered to take you in for a while. She’ll pick you up from here around 6.” She informs you. “You are to arrive at the DEO 8 o’clock sharp every morning. You will be spending your days here, whether it be helping us, monitoring situations, or without a task.”

“Alright, cool. Can I have my stuff back now?”

[tommyquackson]

Not Working | p. parker | part 3

Not My Gif

summary: you and peter are together but maybe it’s not working anymore.

warnings: angst, injury, smut

note: sorry it’s so long but MERRY CHRISTMAS

You spent the next couple of weeks hanging out with Brad all the time. He rode the train home with you, walked you to your place, most days he’d stay and study and watch tv with you until it was time for him to head home.

You haven’t talked to Peter very much, but he still tries to be friends, which you appreciate but aren’t the biggest fan of. Ned and MJ also do their best to say Hi when they see you and they continue to text in the group chat with you in it.

“Hey y/n, is it cool if i spend the night at your place tonight? My moms hosting some book club party and I don’t really have anywhere else to go” Brad asks sheepishly as you guys step onto the train.

“Yea, do we need to stop by your place to get clothes and stuff?” You smile and kick your leg into his lap.

“Yes please.” He smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

Your feelings towards Brad are strange. He’s an amazing friend and he always makes you laugh, but sometimes when you both are laughing you can’t help but sit there stuck staring at his face and how cute it looks when he laughs. His hands are soft and it makes your face warm when he holds your hand. But you didn’t know if you liked Brad, was that weird to like him? You didn’t want him to think he was a rebound from Peter so you never discussed for even thought about your feelings towards Brad.

As you both stepped out of the train and started the short walk to Brads house, you grew nervous at meeting Brads mom. You’d been to his house a few times but nobody had ever been there. You’re brought out of your thoughts by brad opening his front door and letting you in first.

“MOM?” Brad yells through the fairly large house.

“In here honey”

You follow brad through the living room and into the kitchen.

“hey honey, how was school?” She turns around from the oven and stops when she sees you.

“Mom, this is y/n, y/n, this is my mom” Brad introduces you to his mother and you awkwardly smile and wave. Brad pats your shoulder and runs upstairs to presumably get his stuff.

“It’s nice to meet you” You put a piece of hair behind your ear and look down at your feet.

“You’re the girl Brads always with? You are so pretty y/n! my goodness! I would invite you to stay for dinner but I have a ladies night and we are long over due for our wine and cry night.”

“Oh no it’s alright, I’m just here while Brad grabs his bag to stay over.” I smile and nod.

“Oh okay. Well thank you for stopping by.” She smiles kindly before turning back to her food.

Brad rushes back downstairs and kisses his mom goodbye.

“Bye honey, be safe and use protection. NO MINI BRADS”

“MOM!” Brad yells back slamming his front door.

“I’m so sorry, she’s a bit crazy” He apologizes and wraps his arm back around your shoulder.

“She’s nice. I like her” You smile and look up at him.

You both end up back at your place, working on homework in your room. You both sat on your bed, textbooks scattered everywhere. You look up at Brad and see him biting his lip while writing down some definition for chemistry. He looked up and caught your glance, smirking at you. You but your lip and quickly tried to look away, knowing you’d been caught. You looked back up and Brad was already looking at you. Your eyes widen and you gulp, feeling embarrassed.

“No need to be shy y/n, i’m very good looking.” Brad jokes, causing you to roll your eyes and smile. He then moves all of your books out of the way and scoots closer.

“Brad wha-“ Your voice fades out as his hand comes up to your face. His thumb running across your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers, face an inch away from your own. You gulp and nod, slowly closing your eyes.

You feel his lips press against your own and the air sucked from your body. Your stomach flips and your hand comes up to Brads shoulder. It’s a strange kiss, because you’re painfully aware that you’re kissing Brad. When you were with Peter, it never felt like kissing, it just felt natural.

You pull away when thoughts of Peter pop into your head. You stand up off the bed and gather your breathing.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” Brad asks eyes wide.

“NO! No i just uh, i thought I was ready but I’m not sure I was. Look Brad, I-“

“Still love Peter?” He asks sadly.

“No, well i don’t know. That’s not what i was going to say. I like you I think, you’re kind and funny and sweet and extremely attractive but i don’t want you to think you’re just a rebound or something because you’re my friend.” You sigh deeply, sitting at your desk chair.

“But I don’t, I like you y/n, as a friend and more. I don’t wanna just be the guy that you use to get over peter but if you say i’m not then I believe you.” Brad stands and walks to where you are, and bends down in front of you. “ If you don’t wanna do anything. We won’t, we can go back to studying no problem.” He smiles and grabs your hands, rubbing the back.

You look down at him and feel your heart jump. You needed this, wanted this. You couldn’t be upset over Peter forever and Brad has the potential to make you very happy. You make a spilt decision and press your lips against Brads, who groans in surprise but holds you close and kisses back.

You both stand and continue kissing until you find your way on your bed. Brad sweeps all your books and notes onto the floor causing you to giggle. The giggle causes Brad to groan and kiss you harder. You continue to make out for a while before you break the kiss and move to Brads neck.

“Fuck y/n, how far are we takin this babe?” Brad groans.

“all the way babe” You whisper in his ear before biting his sweet spot and sucking.

He groans loudly and grabs your hips. He slowly pushes you off of him and takes his shirt off, while you do the same. He climbs back on top of you and pushes his hips into yours, causing your back to arch up towards him. Brads hands wrap around you and take your bra off quickly, then replaces the material with his lips. You moan lightly and grab purchase in his thick hair.

You both quickly take your pants off and grab a condom, Brad looks at you as his finger enters you and your hand wraps around him.

“shit y/n, are you ready?”

“yes please” and with your whine, brad enters you slowly. You both sigh and mold together at the feeling of him stretching you out. Your mind blank except for the feeling of Brads thrusts going faster with each pump.

“So good mamas” Brad rasps out as he hisses your jaw and lightly holds your thigh up.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to reach your climax. You’re practically screaming while scratching at his back and Brads grunting and swatting your ass every few seconds. When you both come down, you lay together, still naked and catching your breathe.

“Wow” You smile and look at him.

“Yea, i’m gonna make some cereal. You want any?” Brad asks, throwing on his boxers. You nod and he kisses your forehead before leaving your room to head to the kitchen.

You stood and used the bathroom and did your best to fix your hair. You began picking up the textbooks when your phone began ringing. You looked over and saw Peters name. You rolled your eyes and declined the call, until he called again, and again. He called a total of 4 times before MJ called and you finally decided to answer.

“Hello?”

“Y/n? Please come to the hospital. Mays been in an accident and she hurt badly. Peters hurt too but not as bad, can you come?” Her voice rushed out the infor and your heart stopped. You loved May, she was like your mother when your own wasn’t around.

“I’m on my way.” You said before hanging up and running around your room getting dressed.

“Brad I have to go to the hospital. Mays been in an accident, i-i gotta check on her I have to go.”

“Wow okay, let me get dressed.” Brad moda before speed walking towards my room. I bounce my leg and go ahead and call a cab to be out front. As soon as brad steps out of my room dressed I walk out the door and book it down the stairs.

The car ride is nerve racking, what happened to May? Is peter okay? Why didn’t you answer his call? A million questions hit you at once when you look up and realize you’re at the hospital. You throw a twenty towards the driver and step out rushing inside.

“Y/n-“

“Where are they?” You ask Mj before she can say anything.

“Room 142 and 146” She says pointing down the hall.

You rush toward the room dodging nurses and children alike. You open the door to 142 and see May laying there. Tears flood out of your eyes as you walk towards her, Happy by her side.

“How is she?” You ask sitting next to him, hand on his shoulder.

“She’s bratty banged up. Couple broken ribs, a concussion. She fell asleep a minute ago because of the medicine.”

“I’m so sorry May. Everything gonna be fine. I’m gonna go check on Peter.” I grabs Mays hand lightly and squeeze before walking down a bit farther to Peters room.

I open the door and he’s sitting up in bed, with an IV and a head wean and arm sling. Beds by his bed and they both look my way.

“Y/n?” His voice breaks at the sight of you and it tears your heart apart.

“I’m here Pete. What happened?” I ask as Ned gives us our space and leaves.

“Happy was driving us and some truck just came out of nowhere and Happy had no time to do anything and I couldn’t sense it and I-“ Peter couldn’t keep going due to the sobs wracking his body.

“It’s okay. She’s okay. You’re okay. Everyone’s fine. It’s not your fault.” I say rubbing his good hand.

“How is she?”

“She’s sleeping. Happys with her, making sure she’s all good.” I smile moving hair out of his face.

“Sorry I didn’t answer your call, I was-“

“With Brad” Peter looks up at you. You can’t do anything but smile sadly.

“I love you y/n.”

“Peter just relax okay? You’re hurt-“

“No! I did love Mj, but then I found you. You were always there for me and at first I thought we were just friends but every time you smiled my heart skipped a beat and day by day I fell in love with you. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend and I know it was shitty of me to try and keep seeing what my options with Mj were but me and her are just friends. She’s not the one I want, she’s not who I need. I miss you everyday more and more. I love you y/n.”

“Pete, I have loved you for years and I always will but things are complicated. Me and Brad, we, i don’t know but something about it feels right. He’s made me feel better and happy and cared for. I can’t sit here and look at you and pretend that I haven’t dreamed of is getting back together because I have but things are weird right now.”

“You had sex with him.” Peter speaks sternly and accusingly.

“What?”

“You has sex with him, didn’t you? Your hair and skin. That’s what it always looked like after sex. Your lips are red and puffy.”

“It doesn’t matter Peter.”

“Yes it does! You think he cares about you? I bet he’s gonna leave now, stop talking to you and find someone else. He’s not a good person y/n.”

“He’s a great person Peter and I’m not gonna just allow you to talk about him like that because you’re jealous. He was there for me Peter. He was the o my thing that kept me from going crazy.”

“YOU HAD US! YOU HAD NED AND MJ AND BETTY AND MAY AND HAPPY! YOU HAVE A FAMILY TO KEEP YOU FROM GOING CRAZY, not some dickhead that just wants to have sex with you.

“You think I wanted to look at Ned and talk about how I was heart broken by his bestfriend. Or MJ? You think I could even hear her name without my heart shattering? I couldn’t go to Nat because how do I tell her that her nephew broke my heart and loves someone else. How Peter? Brad cares he cares about me and my feelings and he’s never missed a date or even a fucking text. So yea, Brad is the only person I had.”

“Pull your head out of his ass!”

“Excuse me?”

“You think he wants to be with you because he doesn’t. Everyone knows that. Nobody likes him for a reason y/n. You’re so stuck on him you don’t realize he’s just using you! Ask him about the bet from the school ski trip y/n, he didn’t tell you about that did he? No! Because He doesn’t actually care about you y/n. And if you’re too dumb to see that maybe you shouldn’t be here.” Peter crosses his arms and turns away from you. Your jaw clenched and cheeks stained with tears.

“i hope you get better soon peter, so you can go to hell” You spit storming out of his room and down the hall. You wipe your tears and push pass Mj to get through the doors. Brad follows quickly behind you. You don’t say anything as he hails another can back to your apartment. You let your thoughts roam and anger bubbles inside of you. How could peter do this?

You get inside and plop down on the bed, and Brad pulls you close to his body. Holding you and telling you everything’s gonna be okay.

“Brad?” You whimper

“Yea what’s up?” He looks down at you and moves a piece of hair from your face.

“what bet did you make on the schools ski trip?” You look up at him and hope it’s nothing. That it means nothing to him and he has no clue what you’re talking about.

“Who told you?” He furrows his eyebrows and your eyes narrow.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing really, I just- Jason bet me $20 I could get you to sleep with me. You had just gotten with peter at the time so i told Jason i would if you ever broke up with him.” Brad sits up and looks down at your sheets.

“Get out.”

“”what?”

“get out. get the hell out, now” You bark at him.

“Y/n, please Im sorry.”

“Bullshit Brad, you fucking Oscar nominee actor. Fuck you Brad. Get the fuck out and if I ever see you again I’m gonna kick your fucking teeth in.” You nearly scream at him throwing all his shit into his bag and tossing out your front door.

“GET OUT” You yell which cause shin to jump out of your bed and scramble out the door. You slam it shut and fall back against it. Heart clouded with confusion.

You didn’t know anything anymore. Brad didn’t like you, Peter loves you, you liked brad and you loved peter but now you’re not show what you feel towards anyone. Nothing made sense.

taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @silver-winter-wolf @just4muggles @randomtrashpanda @sunshine-ybba @jin-hyuks @lovely-geek @jackiehollanderr @des0rbitadx

[kyleknight]

Shapeshifters

October Writing Challenge Day 4 part 2 project: bts shapeshifting light weapons au content: eventual ot7, fantasy, shapeshifting weapons sorta like soul eater, parallel worlds I guess?  warnings: mild fighting against monsters  an: ok so this is stuff that Ive already written for this au but Im planning on writing more so I wanted to have this stuff posted already bc it explains the world pretty well.

The stars overhead are a little too bright. A little too big, too close. If Hoseok looks up at the sky long enough, he can actually pick out sharp pointed edges to them. He tries not to look at them and pretends the natural light illuminating his path is moonlight instead of starlight.

Namjoon is leading him along the path at a brisk pace— not quite a run, but it’s fast enough that Hoseok feels a little less panicked about… well… everything. There’s not enough cover out here and Hoseok is terrified of seeing another one of those giant creatures. 

He spots the building, standing in a small clearing. It’s a nice change from the seemingly endless twisted trees on one side of the path and the barren field on the other. 

“What’s that?” he asks Namjoon. It’s a question he’s been asking a lot in the past hour or so. 

“The house? It’s safe,” Namjoon answers. “My friends are in there.”

“They’re like you?” Hoseok says.

Namjoon doesn’t respond until they reach the building. He ignores the door and goes to a boarded up window instead, knocking rapidly on it. “It’s me! Open up!”

A brief moment later, a board covering one of the windows slides and moves out of the window. It’s barely enough space for a person to squeeze through.

“Come on,” Namjoon says. “It’s safe in here.” He glances backwards, and Hoseok does as well. He can’t see anything, but those things from earlier came out of nowhere. Hoseok turns back and climbs through the opening. 

He finds himself in a large room that’s got building materials piled up against the walls but is otherwise empty. Well, empty except for another guy holding the board that must have been blocking the entrance. Hoseok eyes him carefully and moves aside as Namjoon gets inside. The guy then wedges the board back into place.

Hoseok glances around the dark room. There are no light fixtures on the ceiling and no other sources of light save for the starlight sneaking in through cracks in the boards. He feels marginally safer, though. As long as nothing scary is going to jump out at him like earlier.

“Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon says, “This is Jungkook. One of my friends. And… where’s Jimin and Taehyung?”

“They went out,” Jungkook says. “There was a pack of Shadows that was getting close, so they went to drive them back.”

Namjoon looks worried. “How long ago was that?”

“Not long,” Jungkook says. “But they’re careful. I’ve been watching through the windows just in case Taehyung-ah puts up a firework.” He looks curiously at Hoseok. “So who’s this?”

Namjoon gestures towards the far wall. “Let’s talk in the inside room. It’s complicated.”

Hoseok’s eyes start to adjust as Namjoon guides him through the dark building. It’s a bit like an old farmhouse, he thinks. The first two rooms are sparse, mostly full of wooden supplies and tools, separated by heavy doors. The third room feels much more lived in: resembling a kitchen and more familial storage area. From there, a narrow stairwell leads up to a room with beds, couches, clothes and sheets hung from the wooden rafters above. The thing Hoseok likes more about this room is the larger spaces in between the boards, allowing more starlight to pass through to illuminate the room. 

Namjoon leads Hoseok to a couch with two blankets thrown across it. Hoseok takes one and wraps it around himself. He’s not too cold with his jacket and layers, but the lack of any kind of external warmth here is unnerving enough to send more chills than usual through him. 

Hoseok has so many questions, things he’s still rattled by, but for now, he’s just relieved to be inside. 

“I have more things to explain to you, Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon says. “But first, I need to tell— Jungkook. Hoseok-ssi is a handler. He’s not from here. He’s from another world, I think.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide. “Really? Where did you find him?”

“When I was in town,” Namjoon says. “There was a light from the river. I went to go check on it and he was there. There were a few Shadows already on him, so I went to help him out. He brought the light out of me without me even realizing it. We destroyed the Shadows.”

Hoseok watches Jungkook’s reactions. Namjoon’s explanations from earlier didn’t really explain much, but he’s had a little bit of time to try and process them. People here can turn into weapons. Light is dangerous. Hoseok is special, because of what he did when he was holding Namjoon-turned-into-a-bow. Namjoon can turn into a bow and shoot arrows made of soft white light. 

“You’re both magic weapons then?” Hoseok says.

Namjoon nods. “Jungkook is a pistol. And you saw what I am. And what I can do, when the conditions are right. Doing that can destroy the Shadows, but it’s also dangerous because it can attract more attention if you’re careless about it.”

Hoseok pulls the blanket closer around himself. “And that goes for all types of light? Fire too?”

Namjoon’s face turns more serious. “Yeah. It’s… that’s sort of how all the handlers disappeared here. After the sun disappeared and the moon went dark, they couldn’t stand it. They tried to survive with fire and other types of light, but the Shadows got too strong. I’ve never even met one before, not until you.”

Hoseok looks from Namjoon to Jungkook, who is standing near the window, looking outside. He feels so out of his depth. He’s so scared and he just wants to go home. Namjoon is kind and definitely pretty resourceful, but he already told Hoseok he doesn’t understand how he made it to this world. He’s not going to have any suggestions for how to send Hoseok back. And, considering all of their problems with the terrifying Shadows, it feels like it would be selfish to ask. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Yoongi should have just stayed inside today. 

He tries to rationalize how it’s not his fault that someone was dumb enough to set off some kind of bright ass firecracker at the shore of the creepiest, darkest lake around. Probably some idiots testing out their light instead of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble. You know, like a rational person. 

Unfortunately, Yoongi can hear the person screaming even from his little fishing hut. If he squints, he can almost make out the small gang of Shadows chasing the guy. He frowns and tries to look for the person’s friend and finds nobody. What the hell? Who just leaves their friend to get hunted down by the Shadows just to save their own skin? They’ve got to be close, to set off light of that magnitude. What a fucking shitty ass betrayal.

Yoongi sighs heavily, shuts the door behind him, and throws himself into a full sprint. The guy is running around aimlessly, the Shadows following him out of curiosity more than anything. That’s good for now but eventually he’ll get tired and the Shadows will get him. Yoongi has to slow down as he gets closer, but he quickly sees an opportunity.

“Change!” he yells, running for the guy. “I’ll help you push them back!”

“Ahhh!” the guy screams. “Help me!” Instead of turning into whatever form he has, he just runs for Yoongi with open arms. 

Good grief. Yoongi isn’t exactly comfortable in his sword form, but what the hell ever. He’d rather not be swung around by a panicking fool, but he’s more concerned about the four Shadows than he is about being dropped. 

He changes and even has the decency to land himself in the guy’s right hand. 

“Ahhh!” the guy screams again, dropping Yoongi just as he expected. “What’s this! What’s this!”

“Don’t drop me!” Yoongi yells. He’s a nice guy, okay, and he doesn’t normally yell at strangers, but this is kind of a dire situation. “Pick me up! Scare them off!”

“Ahhh!” The guy won’t stop screaming, but he picks Yoongi up again and holds him in a position so unbalanced that Yoongi is sure he’s going to be dropped again. The Shadows slow down to a stop, uncomfortably close but not close enough to be in range of Yoongi’s blade. They’re bigger than the usual Shadow that Yoongi encounters. Very bad.

“Quit panicking!” Yoongi says. “They’ve stopped, now swing me around a bit. Act threatening!”

Unfortunately, this guy is incapable of getting himself together. It’s like he’s never dealt with a Shadow before. He goes, “Ahhh!” again and swings Yoongi in the most wobbly manner ever. Yoongi actually feels a bit sick from the motion. One of the Shadows moves back a bit, though.

“Do that again,” Yoongi grits out. “But please, just try to get yourself together. It’s fine, I’m not gonna let you die. It’s going to be okay.” 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” the guy says. He’s shaking, but he adjusts his hold on Yoongi and yells again as he slashes the air in front of him wildly. This time, two of the Shadows back off and the smaller of the two runs in the opposite direction. The two that are closest to Yoongi and his unfortunate partner aren’t convinced by the show. One lumbers closer.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters. That light display earlier was pretty impressive. It makes sense that these Shadows wouldn’t be easily scared off. 

“One more time,” Yoongi says. “You can do this. Come on!”

“Ahh!” the guy screams, but this time it’s in a wild desperation. He brings Yoongi back with more force to prepare for another swing, and something resonates within Yoongi. His heart beats harder, louder. His mind feels at peace. The guy swings him and the brightest light Yoongi has ever seen in his life pours out of his blade. He feels the light slice through the Shadows, including the one that had turned and run. The light pierces through the dark lakeshore all around them and eliminates every shred of darkness. 

Then, as quickly as it came, the light is gone. The Shadows are gone. Yoongi is in his human form on his hands and knees, shaking. What just happened?

“What the fuck did you do?” he gasps. He looks back at the guy, who looks just as panicked as when Yoongi showed up. 

“C-can you tell me where I am?” the guy says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. “I’m so scared, and confused. I was just at the train station, it was morning, and then all of a sudden I’m here and it’s night— oh god, what if I’m on drugs. Someone roofied me. Oh god, I want to snap out of this. Can you find me a hospital? My phone is dead.”

Okay, this guy is nuts. Yoongi groans and rubs at his forehead as he makes his way to his feet. “Come on, we need to get to some shelter before more Shadows show up. You can stay with me until your friend shows up again.”

“My friend?” the guy says. “I’m not— who are you talking about?”

“Whoever was with you to make that light earlier,” Yoongi says. “You’re traveling with someone, right?”

“I’m not here with anyone,” the guy says. “I don’t think so anyway… there were a lot of people at the station, but there was nobody when I ended up here. I wasn’t traveling with anyone. I just ended up here alone. Until you showed up.”

Yoongi shoots the guy with a skeptical look. “So what, you made that light by yourself?” He didn’t realize that was possible. But that’s not the important thing here. “Are you insane? Were you trying to draw the attention of the Shadows? You know you could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” the guy says desperately. “This place is so scary, and those monsters started chasing after me, and you turned into a sword! I don’t understand how any of this is happening! I feel like I’m in a movie, and I want to go home!”

Okay, this guy is more nuts than Yoongi initially thought. But between dealing with crazy and dealing with more Shadows, Yoongi would take crazy any day. He sighs, rubs at his eyes, and motions for the guy to follow him.

“You can find your way home after we wait out the Shadows that are bound to come after that light,” he says. “I’m not staying out here any longer. Come on. My place is just over there.”

“Thank you,” the guy says, sounding more subdued. “I’m sorry, I’m just so confused. Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t show up.” 

Yoongi is pretty sure they’re both aware of what would have happened if he didn’t show up to help.

“My name is Kim Seokjin.”

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi says. 

“Thank you, Min Yoongi-ssi.”

“Mm-hm.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything else during the short walk to Yoongi’s place. Yoongi makes sure to shut the door firmly behind him— normally it’s not a problem, the Shadows don’t bother with this place because it’s so dark already. But he can’t be too sure now, after that impossible light Seokjin somehow pulled out of Yoongi.

That’s… that’s something that confuses Yoongi more than anything. He doesn’t know Seokjin. There’s no way there could be enough of a bond between two strangers to draw out that much light. Killing Shadows is next to impossible, and somehow Seokjin did it without Yoongi even realizing it was happening. Yoongi doesn’t even know what kind of light he can produce; he’s never managed anything more than a soft glow in the past. 

Yoongi takes out a spare mat so he and Seokjin can sit on the floor, as far from the door as possible without being on Yoongi’s bed. He’s not that hospitable. Seokjin is looking around a bit uncomfortably.

“Do you have a lamp or a candle?” he says. “I’m sorry, if you prefer the dark, we can stay like this, but I’d rather be able to see your face. I’m still a little— I’m very spooked from those things.”

Yoongi blinks slowly at him. “A candle,” he says slowly. “Like… those things that people used to light on fire.”

“Yes?” Seokjin says. “Um. But, like I said, it’s okay—”

“You’re really not from around here, aren’t you?” Yoongi says. “That, or you have an actual death wish, which I can’t believe, because of how you reacted to the Shadows.” This is so confusing. This guy is acting like he has no idea how the world works. Children know that light is dangerous and how to avoid making it, even before they learn how to speak full sentences. What’s with this guy? How did he end up at the lake in this state?

“Um,” Seokjin says. He pulls his coat closer to his body. That’s another strange thing. He’s dressed in the strangest style Yoongi’s ever seen. He said something about a train. Yoongi knows trains haven’t run since shortly after the sun went dark. They were magnets for Shadow attacks. Even running without lights, the fires in the furnaces would attract dozens of Shadows, who would swarm the engines and tear through the people inside. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin says. “If you don’t have anything like that… I didn’t mean to… I’ll just wait until morning and I’ll go and try to find my way home.”

“Morning,” Yoongi repeats. “Seokjin… I don’t know where you’re from, but in this world, there’s no morning.”

Seokjin goes still. “In this world? What are you talking about?”

Yoongi has a suspicion. It’s crazy and impossible, but so is a stranger pulling light like that out of Yoongi with no warning. “Seokjin, can you describe the place where you’re from?”

“It’s… it’s Seoul. I mean, originally I’m from Gwacheon. But I moved to Seoul to train to be an idol. Seoul is a big city. The biggest in Korea. There’s so many people, so much to do. It’s nice, but I miss home sometimes. Gwacheon has some of the most beautiful parks—”

“And you have the sun,” Yoongi interrupts. 

Seokjin nods. “Of course we have the sun. I think the world would freeze into a ball of ice without it.”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Seokjin, we don’t have the sun here. Wherever you’re from, I can say for sure it’s not here. I don’t know how you got here, but you probably need to learn some things about this place if you don’t want to run into more Shadows and get yourself killed.”

[chaoticspacefam]

I stayed up way too late to answer these, it was worth it

Questions by @pauletta-00​ *dances* here we gooo, some cautions before reading the answers: 1) will contain spoilers for much much later in the fic so don’t read the answers if ya don’t want dem spoilers. I’m gonna try and keep ‘em vague enough that they don’t give everything away, cause I gotta make ya go read it, don’t I now? 😉 2) While I follow KOTFE/ET as a loose guideline it is just that. A guideline, in a lot of places we veer waaaaayyy off the established canon because *singing to the tune of a popular song* ✨it’s my fanfic and I do what I want to ✨ so don’t any of y’all yell at me because my headcanons are different pls? ok good :D

With that out of the way, the questionsss

1. Starting with basics. Who is your Outlander (which class, what their aligment)? How did they end up being frozen in carbonite for 5 years? Why did you make them the Outlander?

(my own art because losing an eye is not a scar option in-game and it’s one of her most defining features)

Vano Saal-Shenly - Canon Sith Warrior (alignment: Light IV in game, I class her as Neutral Good) and Empire’s Wrath. She got made the Outlander because it just made the most sense, also there are some parallels between her fate/whereabouts (including the amount of time they were “missing” to each other) in KOTFE/ET and that of her wife in earlier parts of the (class) story that I very very much did on purpose 😉 She was also the Wrath, so it made the most sense for her to end up on Marr’s ship when it went boom and led into KOTFE. Pretty much follows the canon there, Vano cuts her ship loose, tells her crew + wife to gtfo of there, she and Marr are taken prisoner and she gets frozen in carbonite after the dust up in the throne room. Becomes the Alliance Commander

2. Now, to the rest of classes. What happens to them during KotFE/ET? Did they know the Outlander? Were they allies, enemies, family? Do they join the Alliance or have something else to do? Do they play a major or a minor role in the story? Spare no detail (if you wish, of course).

Aria Saal-Shenly: Human, Major role. Vano’s wife, semi-canon Jedi Consular (alignment: Grey/Dark I, Chaotic Neutral) (follows the Consular story arc grey-Dark aligned, is in fact a Sith Inquisitor playing sleeper agent). Alias “The Wrath’s Shadow” (for obvious reasons) Joined back up officially with Vano during the SoR arc, they marry sometime in the interim between Rishii and killing Revan; on the other flagship with Lana, Theron and the others when Vano’s crew returns to give them the news. Inconsolable after her wife’s disappearance and refuses to accept that she’s dead (they share a Force Bond, so Aria knows and becomes increasingly frustrated when nobody will “listen to her telling them damn it!!”), drives Lana and the others crazy by continuing to try and look for her wife and putting herself in danger in doing so. Sticks with the Alliance, of course, her wife’s the Commander XD helps Vano to manage Odessen-side things of the Alliance, specialising in helping Ni’kasi and Sana-Rae at the Force Enclave of course.

Saarai Ahaszaai: Sith Pureblood, Major role. Niece to Vowrawn and twin sister to Ni’kasi (SI). Alt Sith Warrior in-game. Light I/II, Chaotic Good, but hiding out on Rishii to escape being convicted of a serious crime and exposing her family to Vitiate/Valkorion (who would absolutely kill them if he knew) picked up by Aria and Vano during their search for Lana and Theron during that part of the storyline. Joins up with the Alliance because she and her family have a personal vendetta (tm) against Vitiate/Valkorion and she wants to stab that dude too. Eventually becomes Empress alongside Vano who  remains as the Commander (I still need to work out the details but basically it’s like...coalition government style thing and Saarai and Vano are the joint “final decision” voice mm’kay? hopefully that makes sense), with Lana, Theron and Aria to watch as Marr’s ship go boom. Has to restrain Aria when she loses her shit when they try to tell her Vano’s dead, helps Lana and the others to track Vano down and formulate the rescue plan. Stays with Aria to make sure she stays put like she was told while Lana gets Vano out of carbonite.

Ni’kasi Ahaszaai: Sith Pureblood, semi-Major role. Niece to Vowrawn and twin sister to Saarai (alt SW). Semi-canon Sith Inquisitor/Darth Occulus (follows the canon Inquisitor storyline, but is not related to Kallig, instead related to Vowrawn and lurking in hiding under Vitiate’s nose. Ends up as a “slave” when she takes the fall for her twin’s “crime” in order to protect her.), Light I/Grey, Lawful Neutral. With Saarai and the others on the ship when the big bad happens, sticks with the Alliance (and her twin) to try and track down Vano. Tries to contact Vowrawn and the other Dark Councillors etc., but can’t reach them obviously.

Merak Shenly: Mirialan, Minor role. Younger brother to Vano and friend to Aria as they briefly worked together before Aria returned to being a plant in the Jedi Order, Smuggler, Grey/True Neutral (mostly non-canon as of yet, I need to fully play through the Smuggler story and see how much of it I can graft into the fic-verse if it works or not), takes Aria’s side and works tirelessly to help them track down his sister, is likely the one to find the lead that takes them to Zakuul. Joins the Alliance and works alongside Hylo to run ammo/supplies etc. to the Alliance as they need it.

I haven’t yet played the Bounty Hunter or Trooper storylines, and my only current Imperial Agent is Aria’s mother (Light V/Lawful Good); she runs semi-canon in that she defects to the Republic, but is instead found out by the DC and Aria is sent to kill her as part of her Sith trials, so she’s dead long before KOTFE/ET happens.

I have a Jedi Knight too, but I honestly couldn’t figure out how to put him into the plot so I just left him out for now, I guess he was recruited and is probably in the background somewhere idk sjhsdyuidg

3. What about companions? Do you follow their in-game story or have headcanons for them? Did they stay with your non-Outlander characters or not? Why?

Mainly managed to plan out for the Warrior/Consular companions, haven’t thought deep enough into the Inquisitor companions yet, though I imagine at least Andronikos, Khem Val, Talos and Xalek will likely return to join the Alliance or at least ally with them somehow, because I love them ;-;

Qyzen: Stung by Aria’s betrayal and “leaves” for a while, re-recruited to the Alliance as canon/in-game and the two eventually patch up their relationship (as best they can, but are not as close as before). Tharan/Holiday, Felix, Nadia and Zenith do not return in my fic-verse. They cut ties with Aria after they find out her true loyalties are to the Empire and not the Republic.

Vette: Stays with Aria, Saarai, Ni’kasi etc. initially, eventually goes missing during their searches for Vano and loses contact with the rest of them, ends up teaming up with Gault and returning canonically/as in-game.

Quinn: is court-martialled and thrown in prison after the Quinncident. Released sometime during the five-year carbonite shebang, becomes an officer/aide to Darth Vowrawn, later joins the Alliance along with Vowrawn on Iokath. He and Vano reconcile of sorts, though she no longer considers him a friend and simply a “tactical advisor”. Quinn knows he fucked up so he doesn’t dare complain about it, or Aria will absolutely E N D him.

Jaesa: stays with Aria and co,

4. If applicable: how your characters react if the Alliance joins the opposite faction on Iokath and after that? For example: how do Sith characters feel about joining the Republic? Will they stay or leave (if it’s too spoiler-ish, then feel free to skip this)?

Aria was never truly on the Republic’s side, so she very much supports joining the Empire. Saarai and Ni’kasi originally came from the Empire so of course they’re enthusiastic. Merak is skeptical, but trusts his sister (and sister-in-law) so doesn’t protest even though the Sith do scare him, a lot.

5. If applicable: if your Commander decides to be a saboteur, would they tell anyone (PC or companions)? Why/why not?

Haven’t got this far yet to be able to plan this out, lemme get back to you when I do lol

6. How would your characters react if one of their companions is exiled or dead because of Outlander’s choices? For example: sith warrior’s reaction if Commander doesn’t save Vette?

Aria pretty much only cared about Qyzen out of her companions, he comes back fine in the end so she’s a-okay. Other than that the only person she would be deeply affected by losing again is Vano herself. She will fucking kill as many someones as she can get to before Saarai stops her if they let her wife go bye bye again.

don’t have a bounty hunter to be upset about Torian. I don’t hate him, he’s a great guy and I really enjoyed his character, but I cannot bring myself to not save Vette ;-; Vette and Vano have a sisterly-like relationship and her lock-picking etc. skills are very important to the Alliance. That Twi’lek ain’t dying on nobody’s watch hahahaha

haven’t yet had a chance to plan out anybody else’s, don’t think there are any choices in game (or that I’ve planned out in the slightly-altered fic timeline) that would affect this. May change as I get that far ahead and add or change things to fit!

7. If you have something written about anything from the above (bc I know some people do), share the links to your works (again, if you feel like it)!

The only thing I have published out on the web atm is Aria’s part of the class story, “Creeping Shadows”, which is on AO3, go give it a read if you want (rated M for mature themes like mentions of drugs & alcohol and frequent swearing etc.):

Creeping Shadows on AO3

I have pretty much all of the rest planned out, I’m just a big dummy who likes to write chronologically and as of yet cannot manage to write multiple fics at once, I will get through every part of this fic if it kills me or takes me 20 years so help me god. If you wanna hear more about my dumb children you can also DM me I could literally yell stuff about them for hours on end 😆😆

[the--sad--hatter]

Phantom pain (2)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION -  Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom. Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Chapter Two - While You Were Sleeping

You had mere minutes to make this plan work.

Racing invisibly through the halls, you brought up the mental map of the facility map you had studied only hours before, making sure to avoid bumping into anything and giving yourself away. Nobody could see you but if you knocked over something or ran into someone, it would give you away.

Sweat poured off you in buckets, going invisible took up a lot of energy but you could do this if you did it fast. You reached the door you were searching for and phased through it and slipped inside. You paused and strained your ears for any sounds, making sure you were alone in the room. You crept through the room, eyes peeled for the right cabinet.

Your skin was burning and you dropped the invisibility, saving your energy for when you left.

You found what you needed and quickly rifled through the files, silently thanking Hydra for being paranoid enough to keep a paper copy of all their files. You slipped out your phone and took pictures of everything, regardless of what it was. Tony could sift through it.

Names, dates and awful pictures caught your eye and you swallowed thickly, trying not to focus on it. Voices drifted down the hallway and you picked up the pace, changing to video camera and rapidly flicking through all the files. You could freeze frame each page later, and by you, you meant Friday.

Someone jostled the door-handle and you slammed the cabinet closed and slipped your phone under the material of your suit. You let your body deteriorate again and the tendrils of odourless smoke you left behind dissipated as an agent opened the door. They didn’t even flinch as you walked straight past them and through the door.

You ran back through the hallways, holding onto the invisibility and didn’t drop it until you were at least a mile away from the facility and walking up the ramp of the shielded quinjet.

“Twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds. You owe me a bottle of Macallan select reserve.” Tony crowed victoriously.

You didn’t have the chance to respond before the floor of the quinjet was rushing towards you and everything went dark.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You dragged your eyes open and winced at the bright lights that assaulted your poor innocent eyeballs. Your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool balls and your skin felt like you’d fallen asleep on the beach at high noon.

“Oh my god.”

You turned your head to the side to see who had spoken and saw Tony stood at the door watching you in shock and awe, dropping the beaker he was holding and ignoring it as it smashed against the ground.

“You’re awake.” He said, slowly.

“Oh, is that why my eyes are open?” You croaked.

He stumbled over to your bedside and looked down at you reverently.

“You’re really awake. I thought... we thought...”

“Why are you being so weird?” You said, coughing to clear the scratchy feeling in your throat.

“Princess, you were in a coma.”

“What?” You demanded, well wheezed pathetically.

“You’ve been asleep for three years.”

You tried to sit up in a panic, when Tony started chuckling loudly at the look on your face.

“Oh you fucker.” You rasped.

“Like I’d keep you in my lab for three years, I’d pull the plug as soon as I could.” He joked, ducking to avoid the pillow you threw at him.

“I hate you.” You grumbled.

“Nobody hates me, I’m adored the world over. You were only out for three hours by the way.” He said, lapsing back into laughter as you pouted at the pillow you’d thrown and made grabby hands until he handed it back.

“Everybody hates you, you just pretend otherwise so you don’t shatter that impressively huge ego.”You retorted.

“You think I’m impressive?”

“Fuck off Snark.”

“Fine, I won’t help you remove your IV drip, you can HEY STOP THAT!” He shrieked at you in the middle of sentence as you pulled the IV out.

“What did she do?” Bruce’s worried voice preceded him as he hurried through the door.

“You’re the worst patient ever.” Tony reprimanded you.

You started flatly at Bruce and motioned between yourself and Tony.

“You’re right, he’s a worse patient.” Bruce agreed, checking your vitals.

“Rude. I’m leaving now, you two are ganging up on me again.” Tony muttered as he stalked away, though you noticed him quickly check your vitals himself before he did.

“What’s up doc?” You asked Bruce as the Iron Man flounced away in a huff.

“Same as usual. You over exerted yourself. You were dehydrated so we put you on an IV but since that clearly didn’t last, go drink some water. You’re nearly back to your baseline health.” Bruce said, shaking his head at you fondly.

“Did Snark get the pictures off my phone?” You asked as you sat up and stretched, Bruce hovering over you.

“He did. Friday is combing though them and converting them into computer files for the team.” He said, patting you on the knee proudly.

“I owe you one Friday.” You said.

“You owe me several dozen.” She pointed out.

“Petty doesn’t suit you darlin.” You retorted.

“It looks like you got everything we needed though, as well as a little extra. It would have been a perfect mission if you didn’t pass out again.” Bruce said snarkily.

“Oh good, I can go home before anyone wonders where I was. I’m running out of excuses, I don’t know if I can pull off another ‘rehab’ cover.” You said in relief.

“You might want to shower and change first.” He said, motioning to the Phantom suit you were still wearing.

“Good idea... Friday wanna let me into Tony’s room? I bet he has the fanciest shower.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bucky had spent far too many hours researching you, flipping through article after article about your drunken adventures and ‘sexcapades’. You were a party animal according to the tabloids, always hitting up clubs and throwing extravagant parties. There was also mention of a few stints in rehab and numerous different flings mentioned.

Surprisingly there were very few photo's of these ‘incidents’. Most likely you were buying off the tabloids to keep the embarrassing pictures out of the articles. Over all, he wasn’t impressed by you at all.

According to Bruce, you were basically a prodigy and if Banner thought that, it must be true. The fact that you were so reckless and stupid when you were so gifted annoyed Bucky. You were brat, and you needed someone in your life to set you on the straight and narrow. But that wasn’t his problem.

His eyes narrowed as you waltzed into the common room, your hair messily piled on your head and your feet bare.

“Making yourself at home?” He asked you.

You glanced up at him nonchalantly.

“Yup.” You said, popping the p at the end as you opened the fridge and perused it’s contents, pulling out a bottle of water and guzzling it.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be busy hacking Hydra?” He asked you.

“Been there, done that.” You said smugly.

“You’re done?” He blinked owlishly at you.

“You did hear the bit where I’m the best in the world, right? Oh my bad, age has probably affected your hearing.” You said, smirking cheekily at him.

He stood up and stalked over to you where you were leaning against the counter-top and pressing the cold water bottle to your neck.

A small drop of condensation dribbled off the glass bottle and into the hollow of your throat and his eyes tracked it as it rolled down your chest and disappeared into the valley between your breasts.

“You’re insolent and egotistical Devchushka. That attitude might amuse Stark but it doesn’t amuse me.” He growled at you.

“Oh.” You said, looking chastised and biting your lip.

“Well, It’s a mighty good thing that I’m not trying to amuse you then Starikashka.” You teased in a seductive purr, winking at him and strutting away.

Yes, somebody definitely needed to put you in your place.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“West? Are you here?” You called as you unlocked the front door to your apartment.

Silence was the only answer and you breathed a sigh of relief as you shrugged your coat off and flung it over the back of an armchair.

There was a small chirping meow at your feet and you smiled.

“Hello Frank, did West feed you?” You asked the bulky cat.

Frankenstein, or Frank as you called him wasn’t technically your cat. He was just some ass-hole stray cat who followed you home one night and refused to leave until you fed him. He would disappear for days, sometimes weeks and reappear at will.

You padded over to the kitchen with the infernal cat twisting around your ankles. You noted the dry cleaning hung over a kitchen stool and the foil covered lasagne dish on the counter. Apparently West had stopped by earlier and left food for you.

He was your fathers butler/assistant and had practically raised you so when you moved out of the family home, he didn’t take it well. He came by nearly every day and continued to look after you.

Your phone vibrated in your coat and you skidded across the floor back over to it to read the text.

Snark: You still owe me that bottle of Scotch, just because you swooned into my arms it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that you took more than 20 minutes to get the files. Also, we need another favour.

Snark: If you do this one, I’ll give your suit an upgrade. Be here tomorrow at lunch.

Snark: Bring my scotch.

You scoffed. You knew helping them out would backfire, this was why you had avoided them for so long. You couldn’t afford to have anyone know you were The Phantom and The Avengers were likely to figure it out sooner rather than later.

Still... If they were asking for your help, it was probably important.

“What do you think Frank? Self preservation or desire to do good, which one’s gonna win out?” You asked.

A tail swish was his helpful response.

“Well you’re a cat, of course you’d advocate self preservation.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Hey Bucknasty, what do you think?” Sam called.

Bucky looked up and frowned, trying to figure out what Sam was talking about.

“Sam wants to ask Princess out, I think he should go for it.” Tony said gleefully.

“Why?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“She’ll eat you alive and leave your mangled corpse on the lawn for your feathered brethren to pick at.” Natasha explained with a smirk.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asked.

“She’s a maneater and a womanizer, think a pre Pepper Tony Stark with boobs...” Sam said, looking excited.

“She’s an infamous heartbreaker.” Natasha clarified.

Tony and Bruce exchanged a subtle look of amusement. Once upon a time, they’d believed those rumours as well. Now they knew you, they knew how untrue it all was. But your reputation was carefully cultivated so they didn’t correct anyone.

“I’m sure she’s not like that really, she seems sweet.” Steve interjected, chivalry demanding he defend your honour even though he didn’t know you.

“Well, one way to find out.” Sam announced.

“Tomorrow will be fun.” Tony said.

Bucky resisted the urge to storm away. For some reason he hated the idea of Sam asking you out. Maybe because despite their bickering he actually considered The Falcon a friend and didn't want to see you get your claws into him.

For someone he’d only met twice, you’d gotten under his skin. He was determined to take you down a few pegs and in the process, keep you from dating his friend.

The fact that he couldn’t stop the image of a droplet of water rolling between your breasts from replaying over and over in his mind didn’t factor into it at all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So, two questions. One) Do you like this story? It's not as good as Name Calling yet. Two) Who are your fave interactions with so far?

You can ask to be added to or removed from tags at any time folks, just comment or inbox :D @lifewandererblog​ @drdorkus​ @gravedollie666​ @sadsoldat​ @bigplantdaddy​ @moodyruth​ @likes-to-smell-books​ @shirukitsune​ @inquisitor-selvala​ @brownle-22 @myfandomlife-blog​ @markusstraya​ @adeleoctobre​ @vajeenparty​ @sexyvixen7​  @love-nakamura​  @buckitybarnes​ @littledeadrottinghood​ @pinkisokay​ @jsmith509​ @brownlee-22​ @angieptt​  @thosesexytexasboys​ @liveonce-sodoitright​ @tarastudiesalot​ @spnrvt​ @dahkness​ @dilaila95​ @rororo06​ @mizzzpink​ @fairislesheets​ @strangersstranger​ @life-wanderer​​ @uuuuuuuuggggghhh​​

[aliceslantern]

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, Chapter 17--Epilogue

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Chapter summary:  A chapter of Ienzo's life closes, and it's time to move on.

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

Ienzo blinked. Once, then again. There seemed to be something wrong with his eyes.

He could breathe. There was that.

Too slowly the world slid into focus. He twitched his fingers, to see if he could. Something was… off, felt substantially different about his being.

“Child?”

He tried to turn his head towards the voice.

“Easy. Easy. There. It’s alright.”

Ienzo put a hand to his face. His hair was dirty, and it itched. He tried to speak. “Ans--” The sound was weak, halting. He attempted to prop himself up.

“Careful. You’re very weak.”

Ienzo swatted the hair out of his eyes. He could see Ansem at his bedside, exhausted and haggard. There was the distinct pinch of an IV in his hand. “I--”

“You’re alive.”

“Where’s--”

“Asleep. It’s the middle of the night. The child has held almost a nonstop vigil. I told him to get some rest."

He felt wetness in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Ienzo.” He took Ienzo’s free hand.

“Aren’t you angry?”

“I’m much more relieved you’re alive. It’s been an uphill battle for quite some time. By the time we got to you your body and will were pulling apart. We weren’t convinced it would return.” He was so pale, so washed out. “You did die, for some minutes. It’s lucky that your heart let itself be restarted.”

“Why? Why am I still--” He wasn’t asking Ansem this question, but rather the world.

“You must be meant to be here.”

“She… she disappeared?”

“...Yes. We believe she’s found Sora. There’s still data coming from her, so she hasn’t vanished from existence. Whatever you two did, insane as it was… did bring results.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You always did take enormous risks.”

For a moment he turned his focus back to his body. The way breath was normal again. Something had shifted. He realized, almost with a start, that the magic was no longer sapping his vitality.

Mostly because it was gone. Sealed away. Buried. “I will take no more,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve tortured you all.”

Ansem smiled a little. “We’ve raised you to be this way,” he said. “How can I be mad at that? We raised you to disregard your body, your self , your wants and needs, for the sake of the greater good. Compounded with the psychological devastation of your transition to humanity… of course this was the only logical outcome. I only wish I’d realized it sooner.”

The door opened. Even, in a dressing gown, his hair mussed. “The monitors--” He began, before his eyes fell onto Ienzo. “Child. What a stupid, stupid thing to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Even came over and drew him into an embrace. Ienzo couldn’t help but give into the comfort of it. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird. Weak.”

‘Thankfully you are rebounding well. I’ve been giving you ether on top of the medication. It seems to be helping. Your color is no longer so sallow.”

“I think…” He swallowed, placing a hand on his breastbone. “I think it’s partially because… for so long I was forcing my will to the forefront of  my being, where it didn’t belong. But as Zexion… that’s how I grew up. With my heart where it’s meant to be… I feel more… me than I have in years.” He thought of his childhood self’s face. That must've been the purpose of getting rid of the lexicon--letting his being settle. Destroying the thing that was killing him. “It is jarring.”

“Fascinating,” Ansem said. “Given your unusual upbringing… your will had to overcompensate.”

“I’d embraced humanity, but I hadn’t embraced humanity, if that makes sense.”

“You had work to do,” Even said, with a sigh. “And now…”

“Now I can just be Ienzo.”

“Well, good,” Even said, with a sniff. “Because you deserve nothing more than a long and fulfilling life--even if it kills me to give you that.”

Ienzo smiled.

As soon as Demyx heard he was awake, he ran downstairs. He was still in pajamas; he hadn’t even put on shoes . He vaulted over to Ienzo and pulled him into an embrace so tight Even told him to be gentle, before giving them space. Demyx just said his name over and over again. “You’re here. You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He was crying freely, but not, he thought, out of sadness. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to--I thought I killed her, Demyx.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t believe you saw me-- that you watched me--” He swallowed, feeling a wave of guilt. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

Demyx cupped his face. “Stay with me.”

“I promise.”

---

Ienzo tried to pull the shards of himself together. He was so embarrassingly tenderhearted now. Empathy stabbed him like tiny knives. When he was physically stronger, he worked alongside the restoration committee, with Ansem, to analyze the data coming from Kairi. They thought they might be figuring out a way for Riku to--safely--get to them.

He gave himself time. He spent hours with Even and Ansem, Aeleus and Dilan, wading through the muck of the past--tensions and betrayals and lies and atrocities. Sometimes Ienzo yelled at them. Sometimes he cried. Sometimes he was being the one yelled at, or cried over. But there was also a sense of things being worked through, of the bonds beginning to mend and heal. Again, they started to feel like the family they’d once been, even though it still felt rather noticeable that Braig was not a part of it. But he’d made his choice.

To a degree, there was a new member of that family, too.

It took a long while for the others to realize that Demyx was no mere fling of Ienzo’s. Longer still for some of them--well, Even and Dilan, mostly--to accept that, then to begin to get to know him as he was, and not as he used to be. Even insisted for days--weeks--that Demyx was not good enough for him. It did make things uncomfortably tense for a time. But, perhaps seeing how they interacted, he… began to change his mind.

Ienzo began to gather stories of a different kind.

Much like the photo app he’d developed, he worked with Ansem on an application. He wanted to give people a space to share their stories, their memories, how they were affected by darkness. Where they could be anonymous, if they so chose. It was only a beginning at catharsis for the people he’d hurt, but he had to start somewhere. In his downtime, he began to again study psychology, but with the pretense of using it to help others heal their minds and hearts.

There were still questions which may never be answered.

As the weeks and months passed, nobody heard anything from Sora, or Riku, for that matter. Everyone tried to be optimistic. But if they were out there… nobody knew.

Demyx was still missing memories.

Ienzo knew he was hurting, whether or not he realized it. Sometimes he would catch Demyx staring into space, and his fingers would stop wandering over the frets of his sitar. He would go completely still until Ienzo called his name. Moreover, when they shared a bed at night, quite often Demyx would accidentally wake him whimpering or thrashing from some nightmare or another. But every single time, he insisted that he couldn’t remember what had happened. So together they went through Even’s notes. Ienzo tried to understand the neuroscience behind memory. It became clear that the problem wasn’t his mind at all, but rather his heart. The time travel had wiped it all clean. So Ienzo had to help him learn to grieve that.

“You know,” Demyx said, with a note of finality, “I’m… almost ready to not go digging in the past.”

“You don’t want to know who you are?” Ienzo asked.

He sighed. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said slowly. “It’s like… all that time trying to find out who I was … could better be spent being who I am . I… don’t want to go chasing ghosts, and I don’t want to spend one more fucking second thinking about anything that has anything to do with Xehanort. I think we’d be better off.”

Ienzo nodded once. “That’s very well said.”

“Besides… I have more now than I ever did. I know that.” He touched Ienzo’s face. “I have you, I have music. I have time . There’s one other thing, though.”

“Which is?”

“I quit my job.”

Ienzo’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought you liked it. I thought you were saving money.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, with a shrug. “I was just offered something better.”

“Like?”

“The committee wants me. As more than just a volunteer. People in town know me from the packages, and let’s face it, I have a pretty sweet connection to you guys. I don’t know what I’ll be doing for them, but… it’s a start.”

Ienzo smiled. “That it is.”

---

It was clear that the future would be something that constantly evolved. There was no easy happy ending. Being a better person took constant work and constant sacrifice. It meant working through things that had long been suppressed. But in it all… he felt as though he may be redeemed.

Ienzo wrote his story. He wove it slowly, in stolen hours, editing, cross referencing old reports and experiments he’d done. He took accountability and he accepted that some things were not his fault.

When it was finished, he took it to Ansem. The man was working to help jumpstart the new government, to rebuild, in his own way, though he was doing away with the monarchy and the nobility. (“Silly, useless, baseless titles,” he said. Ienzo was relieved; the last thing he deserved was for Ansem to suddenly name him heir.) A person would rule if they had merit; nothing more. “I admit I’m still startled to see your hair,” he said. He set aside his pen.

Ienzo touched it. He’d shortened the bangs, knowing full well they’d grow back in crazily within a few months. Having the light and air on that part of his face still was odd, but the change felt natural. He was no longer a stubborn child, an obstinate teenager. His appearance should reflect that. “You should’ve seen Demyx’s face,” he said, with a laugh. “He was rather upset.”

He chuckled. “What can I help you with?”

Ienzo took a breath. “We’re trying not to avoid the past anymore,” he said softly. “I have written… something of a memoir. I wonder if you might like to read it.”

“You’d be willing to share such dark content of your heart, when you’ve been given a clean start?”

“It has been necessary, to begin to heal,” Ienzo admitted. “I know you’ve forgiven me. But you deserve to know the truth.”

Ansem took the manuscript with a sigh. “Yes,” he said softly. “I know we’ve touched upon things in our conversations.”

“I’m afraid for a time I held bitterness towards you--despite none of that being your fault.” He knotted his hands.

“You were lied to and gaslit for many years. Of course that will take work to unravel.” Ansem took his hand. “But we are both willing to be better, and to make change.”

“...Quite.” Ienzo bobbed his head once. “Though those twelve years seem very, very long.”

“Yes… I rather missed most of your childhood.” He frowned. “It is something I think about with alarming frequency. I tried for--what must have been the equivalent of years to get to you. But once I finally escaped--a thing only done by succumbing to the darkness--said darkness turned the last remaining tender pieces of my heart to stone. I thought you were a monster.”

Ienzo swallowed.

“I know the situation was more complex than that, because not only were you a product of your environment, I acted rather monstrously as well. Seeing you again… Your heart has changed everything. It has brought you back to me. I just hope I can watch you grow.”

“What of your own life?”

Ansem laughed. “I do have many things to make up for, and much to do,” he admitted. “But having my family back is enough.”

When Ienzo left that room he felt lighter. Realer, more present. Not just hopeful, but energized for the work ahead. It was going to be a long road to atonement, but he felt ready.

All he had to do was take the first step.

[artificialqueens]

Laws of Motion / Chapter 9 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

A/N: Massive thank you to the authors at the discord server for helping me figure out the characters for this chapter.

AO3 Link

Chapter 9 - Purple.

Katya was running.

She could feel the wet sand between her toes as she ran, the water splashing her shins. The salty wind hit her face as it danced with the breeze of the ocean. The sun above her sent merciless rays of light that warmed her skin and made her sweat.

She was laughing. Katya felt the laughter bubbling at the pit of her stomach, travel up her ribcage, move past her throat and come out in the form of a scream. She looked up at the sky, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. Her arms went up to her sides and she spun. ‘Round and ‘round she went and the laughter didn’t stop. In all her thirty-plus years of life she had never felt happier.

A few feet away, sitting on the hot sand under an umbrella, Trixie played the guitar. In her tight one piece bathing suit, she allowed her legs to be exposed to the tanning sun. Her feet were buried all the way up to her ankles, and her bent knees supported the instrument against her stomach. Her short nails moved rapidly up and down, as the other hand pressed down the right chords. Trixie’s hair was higher than ever, teased into messy curls that moved in sync with the mild wind.

Katya stopped, her full attention was directed to the beautiful girl singing to her. Trixie’s eyes met Katya’s as her soft voice told her to take her time. That was a strange concept for her. Katya had never been one to ‘take her time’. She always needed to keep things moving, to be constantly on the go. She had taken enough time to heal already. As much as she loved this magical land she was immersed in, where there was no pain, no stress, no anxiety; she needed to return to the real world. She had loved the fantastic microcosmos she had created for herself, enjoying her time with no one else but Trixie, her singing, the sun and the ocean. She had to go back.

With firm steps she walked to Trixie, sat down next to her, and wrap an arm around her shoulders. Trixie was warm to the touch. Katya couldn’t help herself, and leaned to plant a kiss on Trixie’s cheek. Just before her lips could reach the purple blush, everything became blurry. Time stopped but simultaneously went faster. Their surroundings started spinning, and then Trixie was gone. Katya was left alone, pressing her knees against her chest as the world around her rapidly vanished.

That was when she heard the beeping sound again, it was still annoying as fuck. Trixie was still singing, Katya’s ears registered the voice, the soft notes of the guitar came later.

Her eyelids felt heavy, and it took Katya several tries before she could open them. The taste of plastic was gone, the pressure in her throat was not there anymore, and her neck was finally responding. She was able to turn her head towards Trixie, who sat on the same chair as before, legs crossed under herself. Katya wanted to get her attention, but no sound would leave her mouth. She tried to call out Trixie’s name, managing nothing more than a heavy exhale to go past her lips. Same breath that went completely unnoticed, lost among the melodies created by Trixie’s fingers on the strings.

“Trix…”

Did she say it?

Did she scream it?

Did she whisper it?

Katya didn’t know, but Trixie’s hands stopped at once, letting the guitar fall carelessly to the floor. She stood up, not even bothered by the loud bang, or the damage on the instrument; and quickly moved to be by Katya’s side.

“Oh, my God! Katya! Katya, are you awake? Katya. Oh, my God.”

Had Trixie’s voice always been that high pitched?

Katya closed her eyes, trying to physically shield herself from Trixie’s loud screaming.

“Oh, no, bitch, you are not leaving me again.” Trixie grabbed Katya by the shoulders, shaking her to stay awake. “Nurse!” If the constant movement wasn’t enough, Trixie decided to call out for help right next to Katya’s ear. “We need a doctor in here.”

From Katya’s side, Trixie pulled something that looked a lot like a remote control, and pressed every button as she screamed out for help. Katya wanted to ask her to calm down, to stop moving so fast and give her brain a minute to catch up with what was going on. Then, a thought hit her. A fainting memory suddenly reached her mind, scaring her to the core. She tried to get a hold of Trixie’s arm, who said so many things at once between her shouts for help.

“Trixie,” Katya whispered, finally being able to taste the name leaving her lips again. Her brain was still having issues connecting with the rest of her body. She did know that her mouth was not fully opened, her speech was not fully functional, but she had to ask something. “Tri-Trixie.”

“I’m here, I’m here. Oh, my God. You are awake. I can’t believe… Oh, my God.” Trixie was euphoric, she moved quickly from side to side, unsure of what to do. For a moment she just stopped, looked at Katya straight in the eye and smiled. “You are awake.”

There was nothing but genuine concern and tears gathering in her eyes. It was endearing, but Katya needed an answer. She tried to speak again, her throat hurt and air seemed to be lacking. “Trixie, did I… did I–“

Just when she was finding the strength to string enough words into a sentence, the door flew open. A doctor came rushing in, holding the stethoscope around her neck with both hands. She wasn’t even finished asking what was the emergency, when she noticed Katya’s wide eyes. A nurse entered right behind her, dressed in her purple scrubs, and big curly hair bouncing as she ran.

“Oh, girl, it was about time you joined the world of the living again.” The doctor had a teasing smile on her lips as she spoke, her hands moving rapidly around herself.

“She just woke up!” Trixie informed the doctor, still in the high pitch voice. “Alyssa, she’s been trying to say something.”

The nurse, who was checking the IV in Katya’s arm, was the one to reply. “Oh, no, baby girl. It’s still gonna take some time for you to get your voice back. Just take it easy, darling.”

Katya looked at the pair, then back at Trixie. She had addressed the doctor by her first name, which meant they had a certain level of comfort. Katya wondered if they knew each other from before, or if Trixie had spent so much time there that she had befriended the staff. She had that type of personality; it took her a while, but she ultimately would fit in every room she stepped in. Katya had to refocus, her thoughts were all over the place, it didn’t feel like the right time to investigate the nature of Trixie’s social skills. Her mind landed back in the reality of the present, where Trixie and ‘Alyssa’ discussed details of her waking up, and the nurse took information from the machine next to the bed and wrote it on Katya’s chart.

“Shangie, baby, give me my gloves. It’s time for Miss Thing here to get her shit together.” The doctor popped her tongue loudly as she took the latex gloves from the nurse’s hand. “Alright, Miss Zamolodchihuahua.”

Trixie smiled and whispered a small ‘oh, my God’ under her breath but didn’t stop the doctor’s explanation. She simply moved to the side, allowing the physicians to do their job.

“I… am doctor Alyssa Edwards, here saving lives, as it is our Lord’s plan. Yes, gawd. This fine nurse is Shangela.” The young woman waved at the mention of her name. “And here’s the whole tea.” She moved to the side and flipped a switch, a board lit up where several X-Rays had been placed. “You were involved in a fight, and got pretty beat by that beast!” The last word was shouted, making Katya flinched at the sudden sound. “You see here?” The doctor pointed at the image of Katya’s ribcage with a pen. “These are broken, and these two are bruised pretty bad.” She moved to the next image, which showed Katya’s skull. “You were hit on the head, even when nothing major was damaged, you have been unconscious for almost ten days. Girl, you do know how to take a nap, huh?” She laughed and turned the switch back off, her tongue popping again for no apparent reason. “We will run some tests, just to see how everything is working under the hood, okay? But you are fine, girl. Healthy and strong, baby girl.”

A button was pressed, Katya could feel the bed moving and herself being pushed into a sitting position.

“I need you to breath deep for me, Momma,” the nurse asked. “You were having trouble breathing before and we need to know how that’s going. Now, it’s gonna hurt, your ribs are still broken, but I need to check on them lungs, alright?”

Katya felt a wave of fear invading her. All the information was thrown at her and she wasn’t given any time to assimilate it. She had been on a fight, she remembered as much. But she also received a blow to the head, she had been out like a light for days, had broken ribs, wasn’t breathing. Her face probably showed how close to a panic attack she was, because Trixie quickly went around the bed and stood by her side, holding her hand with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I’m here. They may be loud and annoying but Shangie has been taking amazing care of you all these days, and Alyssa… well, she’s alright.”

“Alright?!” Alyssa asked fully offended, despite Trixie’s laugh. “Excuse you, but I did not absolutely kill it at med school, and graduate top of my class, for you to say I’m alright.”

Nobody contradicted her, and Katya listened to whatever they asked her to do. The check up lasted way longer than Katya would have wanted. It felt like she spent hours being touched and pushed around, tubes were removed from several parts of her body, and needles went in and out without her permission. The mood was incredibly light as she was informed, between jokes and sarcastic remarks, how badly she had been injured and how long it was going to take for her to recover.

Trixie only stepped out once, with the excuse of calling Katya’s parents, who hadn’t been able to make the trip. Trixie promised them a video call as soon as things settled down and Katya had the strength to speak again. By the time she was back, Shangela was making the last adjustment to the medication dripping from the IV, and left the room almost immediately.

It felt unreal. Trixie had waited for this moment for days and, now that it was finally happening, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know how to act. She stared at Katya’s tired form, wrapped in the thin hospital sheet, and her head resting on the uncomfortable pillow. Still, Katya had a smile on her face. It wasn’t the open-mouthed one that showed all of her teeth, the one that was so undeniably Katya, but her lips were curved up at the corners. She was there, she was alive and awake. She hadn’t left her.

Katya didn’t leave Trixie.

The first tear ran down unannounced. Trixie felt the solitary drop trickle down her cheek, it followed the wrinkles around her mouth and she tasted the salty liquid on her lips. Then a second tear came, then another, and another. Before she knew it, Trixie was crying inconsolably. She sobbed at the entrance of Katya’s room, overcome with emotions that she hadn’t given permission to fully settle.

Katya extended her arms as much as she could, her hands opened and closed, motioning Trixie to move closer. She did. Still crying, Trixie went to her with shaky steps, and sat on the bed. That wasn’t enough for Katya. With a slight pull of her clothes, she made Trixie lie down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Trixie felt the erratic rising and falling of Katya’s chest, she was silently crying; which only encouraged her to do the same.

They held each other and cried for what felt like forever.

“I thought we…” Trixie stopped. That was not the time to generalized. Now, more than ever, she had clarity of what she felt, she needed to express her true feelings. “I thought I had lost you,” she confessed. “If I had lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” Katya’s eyes widened in shock, forcing Trixie to provide an explanation. “It was horrible, horrible, to see you just here, not moving or anything. It was as if someone had literally taken my heart out of my chest, tap danced on it, and flushed it down the toilet.”

Once again, Katya’s expressive eyes told her everything she needed to know. Katya was shocked, surprised, touched; and all of that was clear in the endless pools of emotions that were her pupils.

“Oh!” Trixie suddenly exclaimed, removing herself from Katya’s embrace and sitting up a little. “We caught her, Katya. We found the bitch that did this to you and locked. her. up.” She punctuated the last few words for emphasis, causing yet a fresh wave of tears to fall freely from Katya’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to let her walk, not after everything she did to you. Think again, Brenda.”

With the little strength she had left, Katya held Trixie’s face with both hands. Her throat felt itchy and scratchy as she tried to speak, nothing but grunting managed to leave her lips. She needed to do something to express the gratitude she was feeling, so she did the only thing that came to her mind. She kissed her. Katya closed her eyes and, taking advantage of the hold she had on Trixie’s face, pulled her to meet her lips. The first kiss almost didn’t register as such, just two sets of lips barely making contact. Yet, it worked as a gateway for everything they had been keeping, even to themselves, to come up to surface. That one peck led to an actual kiss, then lips were wrapping around each other, then tongues were exploring mouths, and hands were exploring bodies. It wasn’t until Katya yelped in pain, that they realized how far they had taken it.

A soft laughter left Trixie as she rested her head against Katya’s forehead. Their eyes crossed as they tried to keep a hold on each other’s stare.

“I love you.”

Katya heard her. The three words had been whispered, but they had been so loaded with emotion that there was no way Katya couldn’t have gotten the message. It took her a moment to react, Trixie looked at her expectantly, before she started to backtrack in fear.

“Look, listen, I… if it’s too much, I–”

The rest of the sentences died against Katya’s lips as she kissed Trixie again. Katya desperately nodded her head, unable to form words, but letting Trixie know she felt the same way. They kissed again, and again. They were happy to have found the courage to finally let their true feelings out, even if it was through a near death experience like this one.

Still in a tangled mess of limbs, was that Ginger found them. “Ugh! Lesbianism.” The sarcastic remark lost impact as she practically ran to Katya’s side. She hugged her friend, cried out how much she had missed her and how grateful she was that Katya was okay.

Little did they know, that was how they were going to spend the next few days. Trixie slept with her on the bed, and they kissed every chance they had. Alyssa took Katya away for scans and X-Rays, changed the medication, and wrote things down on the chart. Visitors came and went, staying way after the allowed hours and annoying the hell out of Shangela. Trixie would laugh at the way she tried to kick Kasha and Tempest out of the nurse’s break room, woke up Kennedy from her nap on the lounge, reminded Roy he was not in charge at that hospital.

Even when they hadn’t confirmed anything, people already treated Trixie and Katya as a couple. They asked Trixie how she was feeling, and how she was dealing with the whole situation. Katya received many comments about Trixie being by her side every night, and working tirelessly to catch the attacker during the day. They simply looked at each other from across the room, knowingly smiling to their friends’ words, and nodding when required.

Slowly but surely Katya recovered her voice, the bruised ribs were all better, and the broken ones were well on their way to recovery. According to the doctor, it usually took one to two months for those to heal. Katya’s body, which had always been a scientific enigma, was pretty much ready to go by the beginning of week four. No major damage had been found, there was no amnesia or loss of mobility. Exactly a month after being rushed into the ER, Katya was being released. She said goodbye to the people who had literally saved her life as Trixie pushed the wheelchair through the hallways. She could walk just fine, but it was hospital policy. The staff was sad to see them leave; Trixie and Katya had become an important source of entertainment, but they were happy to know Katya was well enough to go home.

Trixie drove them to Katya’s apartment. Even when she had offered her place, Katya had insisted she was okay to go back to that space. Trixie had gone and cleaned the apartment many times in the last couple of days. She moved stuff around, then put them back where they belonged. She was constantly debating if she wanted Katya to come back to a fresh new place, with no memories of the attack hidden between the curtains, or if it was better for her to feel right at home. At the end, she had to settle with something in the middle, since a lot of the furniture had been taken away as evidence, and the cleaning alone left the apartment looking extremely different.

Katya walked with slow steps and stopped right before Trixie could put the key in the lock.

“Hey, Trix?” She waited until she gained Trixie’s full attention to continue. “Did I shit myself?” she asked flatly.

“Wha-what?”

“Did I shit myself?” the words were repeated in the same tone.

Trixie didn’t know where that question came from, and surely showed as much in her facial features, because Katya’s shoulders dropped as she exhaled loudly.

“When I was coming home that night, the night of the attack, I really needed to use the bathroom. Like, I was shitting myself the whole way home. Then… then, it happened. When I was found, did I have shit all over myself?”

She didn’t mean to, but Trixie couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. She screamed in joyful surprise at how serious Katya was. Katya was really concerned about the matter, her straight face only fueled Trixie’s laughter even more, as wrong as it could be. It took several seconds of Trixie imitating a horn running out of batteries, before she could speak again, assuring Katya that no, she hadn’t shit herself during the fight. Katya visibly relaxed her whole body, sighing with relief. That was when Trixie decided not to tease her any more and helped her in.

Katya drank it all in with her eyes. She noticed right away the missing decoration, the couches that faced a different direction, the dinner table that had been removed. None of that really mattered, the only thing - the only person, she needed to feel safe, to feel at home, was holding her by the elbow and directing her to the bedroom, rambling on and on about what they were going to find in the next room.

“Alyssa said you needed some rest, so I came earlier and did your bed; washed the sheets and everything. You said you wanted to get ready for the sergeant’s exam, so I got you some tests examples and practice sheets. I also put some books on the nightstand, in case you wanted to read, and moved the TV from the living room. Now, I know you don’t like–”

Katya stared at her with a smile, making Trixie uncomfortable enough to stop talking.

“What?” Trixie asked with a shaky voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Katya said, shaking her head, the maniac smile still nailed to her lips. “I swear it’s nothing, I… I just love you.”

Trixie’s jaw dropped dramatically. This was the first time Katya actually pronounced the words. They entered through Trixie’s ears, bounced against the walls of her brain, travelled down past her heart, and settled somewhere hot between her legs.

“I love you, too,” Trixie replied, but Katya shook her head.

“Okay, listen. I don’t do feelings, okay? But I do want to let this out.”

Trixie restarted the movement and didn’t say anything. They both sat on the edge of the bed, Katya wincing slightly at the pain.

“Go on,” Trixie encouraged her.

With a deep sigh, Katya did. “I’m not an emotional person, feelings just… ugh.” She made a disgust face to portray what she couldn’t put into words. “It’s not easy for me to say it. I’ve only said ‘I love you’ to my mom, my dad, and a lizard that I burnt.”

“Oh, wow,” Trixie exclaimed. “Did you kill it? How did you burn it?”

“With fire, but that’s beyond the point. Shut up.” Katya tried to flail her hands, pain stopped her from expressing herself like she usually did. “I’m a very direct person. I have no issues walking up to a person, look at them straight in the eye, and say: I am very attracted to you right now, and would like for us to have sexual intercourse, if you are so inclined; and then we can never talk to each other, ever again.”

Her speech was interrupted by Trixie’s laughter. “Casual sex has never been more formal.”

“Hey, I’m serious.” Katya’s statement contradicted itself when she pronounced the words between giggles. “I never stick around after I stick it in.”

“Oh, my God! You better have a point at the end of all of this.”

“I would reach it, if only you’d stop interrupting me.” Trixie lifted her hands in surrender, and motioned for her to continue. “Fuck, all I’m trying to say is that I love you, okay? Like, I really do love you. I feel it in all my rotten, broken bones. I’ve loved you since the night that I saw you crying at the bar, chugging a whole bottle of beer. I was just too disconnected with my emotions to even know it myself. It was easier to pretend I only wanted your hot body, which I still do, by the way, but I also want the rest of you, all of you.”

Trixie bit her lip, maybe trying not to cry, maybe preventing a smile from spreading all over her face, probably just stopping herself from interrupting.

“It means a lot to hear you say that,” she finally admitted. “For the longest time, I thought I was just obsessed with the beautiful girl that wanted nothing to do with me. Truth is, you awoke something in me, and I wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t be gay. I’ve never felt attracted to any other girl before, but all I could think about was you, and kissing you, and touching you. I guess I settled with being Katya-sexual.”

She said it so easily, with the shrug of a shoulder, that it caused laughter to emanate from Katya in the form of a whistle-like sound.

Chuckling herself, Trixie continued, barely able to keep a straight face. “I mean it. Very quickly I realized I didn’t want to be with anybody else, boy, girl, or anything in between. I guess I knew my fate was to be with you.”

Katya leaned in and found Trixie’s lips again. They shared a sweet kiss to seal their love confessions, with unspoken promises of honesty and loyalty. A kiss that intensified as feelings and emotions finally ran freely. It continued until lungs cried out for air and the only option was to separate.

“Are you tired?” Trixie asked concerned. “How are you feeling about this whole thing?”

“I-I don’t know. I’m still trying to digest everything, I suppose. This was probably one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I am a trained fighter, Trixie. Not only because I’m part of the Los Angeles Police Department, but, did you know I did martial arts for ten years?” Trixie shook her head, shock written all over her face. “Yes, bitch,” Katya assured her, even when Trixie wasn’t doubting it. “My dad is a karate master. He’s, like, fifth degree black belt. He taught me, from a really young age, when I used to be bullied at school, how to defend myself. Never to start a fight,” she added quickly, a finger up in front of herself for clarification. “But he trained me to defend myself, and I failed him.”

“No, you didn’t!” Trixie’s answer came out a little too quick. “Girl, you should have seen that Latrice bitch. Her face was–”

“Is that her name?” Katya interrupted with a whisper.

Just then did Trixie realize what she had done. She looked down and nodded. “Latrice Royale, she was one of Manila’s clients who didn’t take the arrest all that well.”

“I’ll say,” Katya added with a twist of her lips.

Trixie’s hand went up to caress Katya’s face, her fingers ghosted over the purple bruises on Katya’s temple. “We don’t need to talk about her. She’s away and won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” She stood up and offered Katya her hand. “Detective Zamo, would you allow me to take you to bed?”

Even against herself, and the pain on her side, Katya laughed and took Trixie’s hand. “Jesus Christ, Detective Mattel, I thought you would never ask.”

As she dropped Katya softly on the pillows, Trixie froze. “Oh, God. You know when you said that to me before?” Trixie said a bit nervous.

Katya simply nodded. “Yeah, when you asked to sit on my face.”

Trixie hid her face in her hands as she muffled a string of curse words.

Once again, Katya laughed, pulling Trixie to lay next to her. “Hey, it’s fine. You can do that again right now, you know? Like, I may not be able to move much, but my tongue is surely working.”

Trixie giggled like a little girl, pressing her face against Katya’s arm. “Oh, my God. Shut up!”

They laughed some more before they fell into a comfortable silence. Trixie ran her fingers up and down Katya’s arm, soothing the skin around the cuts and scrapes. A wave of emotions hit her again. There probably would never be a time when she wouldn’t be thankful that Katya made it. Trixie didn’t believe in God, or karma, or the healing powers of good vibes, but she wanted to thank something, or someone for allowing Katya to be there, alive and well. She should probably send a bottle of wine to the doctor; and a promise to the universe to never take what she had for granted.

Immersed in that state of gratitude is that a thought reached her mind. “Hey, while you were, umm, asleep,” Trixie paused, doubting if that was the right wording for what Katya went through. “Did you, like, dream or something? Or was it, like, you blinked and suddenly ten years have passed?”

“Oh, it was amazing!” Her voice filled with excitement as Katya explained. “I could be wherever I wanted. Sometimes we were strolling down Vermont Street, you know, just looking at all the shops. Other times, we met at a beach somewhere–”

“We?”

“Com’ere, Momma.” Since she couldn’t really move, Katya pulled Trixie to prop on one elbow, so they could be face to face. “You were always there with me. I could feel you, I knew you were there. I couldn’t always understand what you were saying, but your voice was always there. I heard you singing, telling me stories. For some reason I remember something about you using Gatorade as lube?”

Trixie screamed. “No! That was my roommate. I can’t believe you were listening to all of that. I felt so stupid talking to myself all the time.”

“Oh, no! Hearing you speak was the only thing keeping me from going towards the light. Well, there was no light, really, but, like, you know what I mean.” An unexpected yawn left her lips, she tried to stop it by closing her mouth, but still her tiredness made it through.

Pulling the sheet to cover them both, Trixie kissed Katya’s cheek. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“No, I’m fine. Hey, let’s take a look at those practice tests you were talking about.”

“Girl, no. There’s plenty of time for that. Why don’t you take a nap and then we check those over dinner tonight?”

Katya nodded, her eyes already closing as she curled up next to Trixie. “Would you talk to me as I fall asleep? Tell me about that roommate of yours.”

Trixie did as Katya requested. She repeated the story and watched Katya drift off to a peaceful sleep, wondering if Katya knew there was very little Trixie wouldn’t do for her.

[selfship-uncharted]

The Fugitive Part I - The Encounter

part I - part II - part III - part IV - part V - part VI - 

part VII - part VIII - part IX - part X -  part XI - part XII  - part XIII - part XIV

A/N: I am quite nervous, this is my very first Red Dead Redemption 2 so be kind. Also please no spoilers I'm still playing it and I am quite at the beginning. I tried to write Arthur Morgan as good as I could, but it’s really a complex character. A/N2: Also, English is not my main language so be tolerant. Also, I'm quite a straightforward person and I usually go to the point, what it means I don't take my time trying to describe a scenery or an action.  All that said I hope you enjoy this fanfiction. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader Summary: You ran away from home since your father wanted you to marry someone you didn't want. Your father in order to get you home contracted Arthur Morgan's services to get you back.  Words: 1,434  Warnings: None. Tags: @asiramhera

Some days earlier you were at your father's house in Saint-Denis. Your father was rich and in order to increase his fortune he decided to marry you to one of his partners. Of course, you didn't want him. He was way too older than you and ugly and slobbery... You didn't want him, end of the matter. You tried to argue with your father but it was impossible. He had made his mind and you could cry your heart out in front of him that he wouldn't care.

That's why you decided to run away. Maybe, it wasn't the smartest idea but you couldn't stay there and marry someone you didn't want in the first place. You tried to go as far away as you could, jumping from cart to cart. You were hoping to find some money to pay for a train ticket and go west, but you hadn't any money. Actually, all you did since you left was stealing food in order to survive. You tried to not get noticed by anyone because you knew your father would send someone to look for you. He wouldn't let go of the opportunity to increase his fortune that easily.

When the opportunity came you changed your clothes for male ones, trying to hide your long hair under a cowboy hat. You hope that like that nobody would recognize you. You stole someone's holster to get yourself a revolver in case you needed one. You were quite west of the country and you knew there was plenty of outlaws and men who used their gun before anything else. What you needed now was a horse. Maybe you could steal one and sell it to the next town to gain some money to take a train far away from your father. You leaned on the wall of the grocery store examining your surroundings. You looked for horses, there were two in front of the saloon but there also were people outside, so they could see you taking one of them. Another one stood alone by the stables, it had its saddle on ready to go, no one was near so it could be your chance. You were ready to go to it until you noticed the driver from the cart showing the dress you were wearing when you arrived at another man. What they were saying was left unknown, you were too far from them but you were afraid they were talking about you and that man was hired by your father to get you back. You had to act quickly but not too hastily or you will raise suspicion. After talking to the driver the man went to the men in front of the saloon. He talked to them showing him a photography but they shook their head as an answer. The man sighed and look around him until he met your eyes. You startled yourself, but bend your head down trying to hide your face under the hat hoping he didn't recognise you. Slowly you started to move to the stables. By the corner of your eye, you could see he was following you. "Hey!" He called you. He reached you, grab by your shoulder and make you turn to him. He was a tall man, with 3 weeks stubble, a pair of piercing green eyes and not a very friendly face. He looked at you, you didn't dare to move, he took the photo from his pocket and showed it to you. It was you, wearing a beautiful dress sitting in front of your father who was standing his hand on your shoulder. "What is it, mister?" You asked pretending a manly voice. "You lost your fiancée?" "I am looking for her." He said not convinced. He was suspicious of you, you knew it. "She ran away from home. And her father is really worried." "Of course he is..." You smiled with sarcasm trying to get rid of his grip. "You look like her." He pointed. Before you could say anything else he removed your hat releasing your long hair tied on a side braid that fell on your shoulder. You were fucked. "You are coming with me, miss L/N." He stated. "There's no way." You protested trying to get rid of his grip. But he held you strongly, it even hurt. So you only had one chance, you lifted your knee hitting his crotch. He bent in pain releasing you. And you started running to the horse you spotted earlier. "Come back, you little brat!!" He ordered you holding his pain. Of course, you didn't obey him, you reached the horse and started running like your life depended on it. You barely stepped outside the damn town that a rider reached you shouting at you to stop. You turned to see who he was and it was again, the man your father sent to get you back. You spurred your horse trying to make him go faster but the man easily reached your horse and took the reins from yours. "Leave me alone!" you shouted to him hitting him with your elbow to his face. "You brat!" He cursed unnerved. He jumped from his horse to yours making you fall. You landed on the ground with him on top of you. You tried to get him out of you, punching him with both of your fists. He took your wrists to push them in the ground at your head's high looking at you furiously.   "I'm not going back! I don't fucking care how much money my father promised you I just won't 't!" you shouted at him trying to free yourself from his grip, kicking with your legs like crazy. "You listen to me, little brat!" he shouted with authority losing his patience. "You are goin' to do what I tell you to do! You will be coming back to Saint-Denis you liked it or not! So, better if you stay still and cooperate. If not, we will do it in a bad way." You panted tired of all the fighting, frustrated, you yelled. You were unwilling to accept your fate, there must be a way to get away from him but he was strong, his grip was firm he actually hurt your wrists. And he looked determined. "I can't come back..." You said with a small voice more to yourself than to him. "I don't want to..." "That is not my problem." He said raising you on your feet, but he didn't release you from his grip. "You don't understand!" You protested. "If I get back I will have to marry that man, and I don't want him!" "Seriously, princess, I don't care." He took the rope from his belt and tied your wrist together. "I'm paid to get you home, I don't care about your story." "Is this really necessary?" You asked referring to the rope. "Believe me it is. I don't want you to punch me again." Once he finished the knot, he removed your holster and he charged you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, you couldn't help but protest for the treatment and he put you on his horse."Sit properly." He ordered you, you obeyed straddling the horse. "And give me some space." He jumped behind you and took the reins of his horse, he got sure you were safety sat and he ordered his horse to start walking. "So we are going back to Saint-Denis?" You asked. "Yes..." He answered. "And we are planning to go by horse." You noted. "Yes." "That means at least a week... Or two... Together... With you..." "Trust me, it will be more pleasant if you shut the fuck up." You rolled your eyes. "So tell me. How much my father is paying you, Mr Kidnapper?" "My name is Arthur, I am not a kidnapper I’m just doing my job." He answered bothered. "And it's none of your business since I doubt you can make a counteroffer." "You got a point. But be quite sure I will make every cent worth it. " you turned to him with a sarcastic smile on your face. Arthur looked at you puzzled. "And... what's with the smell?" You asked frowning. You sniffed around you. "Oh my goodness it's from you! You stink! When was the last time you took a bath?" Arthur smelled his clothes annoyed and he could state that yes, the smell was coming from him. "You will get used to it, princess." he declared. “And now, you better shut up or I gag you.” “You won’t dare!” “Try me.”

[hareblazer]

and they cried holy holy holy

its very hard existing in a world that doesnt love you 

fic focused on the affects of the religious south via larrys childhood + internalized homophobia now. tw for religious trauma, homophobia, the q slur, implied child abuse, self harm, implied suicide. separated into 6 parts.

all of these things are pretty normal for the time/context/situation i promise i didnt go ape shit on him ctvgbhn 

im gay. some things were minorly edited because of my own experiences. all conversations are inspired heavily by convos ive had.

ONE

“Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.” The pastor had told him. “Queers go to hell. It is the will of God.” Larry’s mother elbowed him, a way of saying this included him. “Join me in prayer so the sinners may reach Salvation and Repentance.” He raised his arms, framing the holy cross behind him. “Peace be with you.”

“And also with you.” All stood. Except Larry.

“God is Good.” He said.

“All the time.” All prayed. Except Larry. His father glared at him. He could feel the eyes of everyone around him- even if they weren’t looking- he knew what they thought of him. He wished he was good and pure. He wanted nothing more than to be loved by God like everyone else was. But he was just a sinner. A blemish on the tapestry of God’s vision.

None of that was true, of course, but as an 11 year old in the deep south in 1935- he had no choice but to believe.

“Larry.” His father whispered angrily. “Stand. Up. Now.”

“I don’t wanna.” Larry whispered back. He didn’t. He was tired. Ever since his parents found out about his preference for boys they had woken him up early almost every morning to pray- to be reminded of his damnation- to go to church and be told over and over again he was unnatural. He was so tired.

“Larry. If you don’t stand right now- You’ll be choosing a switch when we get home.”

“I’m tired-” He kicked his feet.

“Lawrence Michael Trainor.” His mother hissed. “You’re embarrassing us.” Larry could hear a waver in her voice.

“-in God’s name, amen.” The pastor finished.

“Amen.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Bless you, father.” someone behind Larry said. He couldn’t see very well through his own tears. He couldn’t help but feel like it was all his fault. Now was, in Larry’s opinion, one of the worst parts of church. His parents beelined to Benjamin Quincy’s- probably to tell them to keep their son away from him. Again. Larry could already hear them berating Ben’s poor father- accusing them of turning their sweet son to the Devil and a path of damnation.

This was almost 90 years ago, but Larry could remember it like it was yesterday. He’d never admit it- but sometimes he still felt like that scared boy praying for a salvation that’ll never come.

Chief had bought him a bible, when he first moved into the manor, thinking it would remind him of home. He didn’t know, of course, the kind of history Larry had with religion- but it was enough to release the spirit on a rampage. Chief thought that was interesting. Larry thought it was a headache- literally and metaphorically. He actually wasn’t sure where it was now, actually. It had disappeared mysteriously years ago- after he had given Rita a vague idea of how his childhood was. He never looked for it.

It wasn’t until the patrol had to go into a church that Larry really thought about this again. Ordinarily he pretends it never happened- that he never had a childhood at all. It was easier than having to face it. He forgot why, exactly, they were there- but-

“Larry?” Cliff turned back, already halfway through the doors. Larry had stopped about ten feet off- Jane near him. “You coming?”

“Ah.” was all he could say in reply. This looked like his old one. His lungs felt like they were full of water. Jane tilted her head at him. She had a reason to hate this place- not to say he probably didn’t have one too- but she had definitely never heard about this before. “I.”

“We have two people against this stuff, now?” Cliff. He meant well, but he was about as sensitive as a brick. “What happened to you?”

Larry said nothing. Jane stepped up. “He doesn’t have to tell you. Just- go without us.” Cliff did the closest thing to a shrug he could do and left. Larry wanted to thank Jane- in his own quiet way- but he was a little overwhelmed for that. God. He could still hear the pastors words stinging his heart. He felt Jane’s eyes on him.

Repent, old sinner. Repent and be redeemed.

“Fuck.” Larry turned and walked away. “Fuck!”

“I guess the church screwed both of us over.” Jane crossed her arms. Larry only sighed.

“It screws everyone over. Whether they realize it or not.”

“Hm.” Jane agreed. “It’s a fucked up institution.” Larry’s chest glowed gently.

“God. I want to go back to the manor.” He placed a hand on his chest, trying to soothe the spirit. “Take a nap.”

“Me too.” Jane leaned against a wall.

They stood in silence, before Larry spoke again.

“The church by my house looked like this. Growing up.” He glanced back at it for a moment. “God. I hated that place.”

Jane watched him for a moment. They were the two most closed off people in the manor- this was literally the most he had ever said about himself to her.

“Boring?”

“I guess.” Larry did not say it was because they hated him. He did not say that the priest told him he deserved damnation. He did not say that he still had nightmares about it. “I was. Not well liked, I guess.”

“Oh.” Jane did not share her own trauma related to it. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. “Are you still…?”

“God, no. I’m not a fan of- any of it, really. I don’t know.” He tries to tell her without really saying anything at all. “They. Really. Don’t like the kind of person I am. Is all.”

“Me neither.” She nodded. This conversation was so. Fucking. Awkward. But it was still the most they had talked in a long time. “Bad church experiences club.”

Larry chuckled. “Bad church experiences club.” 

TWO 

Larry was in class. Thirteen years old and already fully aware of his fate. Homosexuality is an abomination, he knew. God does not make mistakes, he knew. So why is he cursed with these feelings?

“God created all creatures in the Beginning-” his teacher was explaining in the background. Larry had heard this story a million times- both in and out of church. He was daydreaming about the boy who sat in front of him- he had the bluest eyes, and- no. No. Larry couldn’t think like that. That was a sin. He mentally scolded himself for letting his guard down. He had to have a wife. A family- or suffer for all eternity.

“God is love,” said his teacher.

It doesn’t feel much like love to Larry.

-

He regretted doing this. Larry found himself standing in front of the team- during Cliff’s sudden group therapy session and subsequent freakout.

“Well.” He started, but paused. God. God. God. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think it would be a good idea to come out? To let the only people he ever felt like he could trust learn his ugly, terrible truth and scorn him just as his own family did?

“I’m-”

“GAY!” Cliff interrupted suddenly. Larry froze. Oh god. Oh god. They knew. They KNEW. How did they know? No. Fuck. He was reading too far into this. Unless he wasn’t. The others protested Cliff’s outburst.

“Okay! I just thought Larry was about to come out- and it would’ve been so healing for him!”

Larry is thankful for the bandages covering his tears.

"I think all I wanted to say was...it gets lonely, not touching anyone for 60 years. the last person I ever touched was John Bowers. I- I loved him. and I drove him away." Larry hoped that was vague enough. God. He could see it now- remembering how his parents reacted when they figured it out for themselves- how the church had reacted- how the other boys had reacted- how he had joined the army in an effort to make himself more masculine, more straight- he couldn’t help but think about all the possible ways he could kill himself right here right now.

“I knew it.” Cliff stood. Larry panicked. “I just want you to know that you’re loved- and accepted-” He hugged Larry, and Larry didn’t know what to do.

He’d never been offered acceptance before. How do you react to that?

“I’m not done.” He snapped. It was the best he knew how to do.

“I’m only sharing this because it’s the thing Mr. Nobody shoved in my face.” A clarification he knew this was immoral. He knew he was wrong. “What’s left, of my face.”

Pause.

“That was a joke. God- these bandages are the death of all nuance.” He failed to lighten the mood. He could feel everyone’s judgement, burning his skin like the fire did so many years ago. “Look. If Mr. Nobody’s goal is to torture me, well- I’ve been doing his work for him. Whipping myself in a- a prison of my own making.” Fuck. That sounded kind of cliche.”And wh- what if I trusted John, what if I’d been more brave- and guess what? I’m sick of it! I’m not just hurting myself- I’m hurting this thing inside of me and it’s hurting me back, endlessly, until there’s so much self-loathing I can barely breathe.” He’s trying so, so hard not to break down. He returns to his spot on the couch and slumps, already tuned out and waiting for his inevitable punishment.

He’s only greeted with Rita’s hand on his back, a small comfort, but a welcome one nonetheless. 

THREE 

The last time Larry was in love was with John. It was, admittedly, most of what he thought about, these days- but it was the only time he could ever exist in peace around another person. Even if John was a little too open for Larry’s comfort, he was comfortable in his own skin during the rare times they could sneak a moment together.

He missed John so, so much. Not only because he loved him- though that was a big part- but because he missed feeling safe. He missed feeling loved. He missed feeling anything at all.

-

“So. You’re gay?” Cliff had asked, one morning.

“Yes.” Larry answered, a little too shortly.

“Aren’t you from- like- the 30s?”

“Yes.” Larry said again, knowing full well what question was going to come next.

“Did your parents-” Cliff paused, trying to find the words. “Take it well? How did you- do that? Back then?”

Larry didn’t answer, at first. He actually had no idea what Cliff was referring to. “What?”

“Y’know- you said you had a boyfriend? John? How did you hide it? Since homosexuality was, like- illegal.”

Larry considers losing it. “They. Did not take it well.” He started, failing to mention how most parents in the day had a habit of ‘beating the queer’ out of their children. “We hid it with difficulty. I mean- we risked getting murdered- or worse, if we were caught.”

“Damn.” Cliff said. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah.” Larry sighed. He hated this conversation so much. “I married a girl I knew right out of high school- that was normal, back then- but I guess I thought if I just forced myself into it I’d turn straight, or something?”

“Did it work?”

“No. I cheated on her for years with other men and ruined my family.”

“Oh.” Cliff feels so awkward. “I mean- I did that too. Cheated on my wife. But I didn’t have a good reason for it. Like you did.”

“Cliff, I didn’t have a good reason. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Sure you did! I mean- cheating at all is a dick move, no matter what- but, like, you’re gay. And you got forced to marry a woman so you wouldn’t die.”

“Cliff-”

“And gay marriage is legal now! So- like- it got better! Gay rights!”

“It’s legal?”

“Yeah! In 2015- thought we celebrated it! But then you wouldn’t leave your room because you were sad about something again, and then Jane-”

“It’s legal now.” Larry said again, not listening to anything Cliff was saying. “Holy shit.”

“-Then Hammerhead threw me across a room and Chief had to wire my legs back on.”

“I hated myself so fucking much for- so long-” Larry’s face is unreadable to Cliff. “The number of times I considered killing myself because I thought there was no other option- and it’s been legal for almost five years. And I didn’t know about it.”

“How did you find out you were. You know?” Cliff asked, trying to avoid talking about Larry’s apparent suicidal tendencies.

“What?”

“How did you know you were gay?”

“Oh. I mean- when I was a kid it was pretty watered down- but I never liked the idea of having a wife or a girlfriend like everyone expected me to. In middle school, though? The boy’s locker room was definitely an eye-opener- and in my twenties I-” Larry was not going to finish that sentence. Cliff hadn’t unlocked that part of his backstory yet. “God. I tried to repress it for so long, though. It’s really weird, having other people know.” Larry’s chest glowed gently.

“It’s okay, now. There’s even gay hookup apps, and stuff. I bet Vic could help you set one up.”

Larry shrunk into his coat. He could barely handle seeing a man in shorts, the other day. He really didn’t think he was ready for this. “Cliff. I’m not. I can’t do this.”

“Why not? You’re free to be yourself!”

“Cliff. It’s been ingrained in me since I was a kid that being gay was some- awful, horrible thing. This- acceptance? It’s too new to me. I’m not ready to embrace it. I can’t.” I can’t go to hell, was what Larry was thinking. I can’t do that. “Ninety years of- of repression- and self hatred- and hiding- and all of that, I can’t just- bounce back, Cliff. I need time to think about this.”

“Do that! You can talk to me, if you need to, Larry!”

“Maybe I will.” 

FOUR 

Larry was 16 when he hurt himself for the first time. It wasn’t on purpose- he was trying to whittle a little plane in class when he sliced his thumb- but he never really stopped. He felt like he deserved it- maybe the sins he held would leave his body, dripping like blood down his arms. Or maybe he just wanted to feel something other than shame. Either way- it was the one thing he could feel totally in control of. Something that finally felt justified. Unlike his unwavering attraction toward the other boys in his classes- like the now-constant disdain of his parents- unlike the smile his first kiss gave him before they left each other behind. His parents never actually knew about this habit, but Larry convinced himself they did.He told himself this was what they really wanted- between the constant threats of going to hell, or the reminders he’s ruining their perfect family- maybe they did just want him to hurt. Suicide, back then, was almost unthinkable. Nowadays, Larry considers it often. -

Rita noticed something was- more off than usual. Larry had always been a melancholic person, but even Cliff had realized Larry not leaving his room for three days wasn’t normal. She eventually took it upon herself to drag him out of whatever slump he had gotten himself into, again- whether he liked it or not.

“Larry?” She called through his doors. Sound didn’t travel well through all that- but she was very good at being heard when she wanted to be. “Larry!”

Larry did not answer. He was bandaged, luckily, as he knew Rita would inevitably come storming in, but he didn’t want her to see the blood seeping through. He had relapsed, again, though he had nobody left to report it to with the Chief gone. That was for the best, he thought. “LARRY!” Rita knocked on the door. “I’m coming in there!”

Larry groaned. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t stopping her. He could easily just say it would be too dangerous, or-

He could hear the decontamination chamber hiss. Fuck. He had to clean himself up fast.

“Can you- wait just a-” Too late. Rita entered, concerned. “Fuck.”

“Ah.’ Rita started, but paused, seeing Larry’s red bandages. “Larry. What were you doing in here?” Larry kicked the pocketknife he dropped under his dresser.

“Nothing.”

“Larry. You’re a terrible liar and I just watched you hide something. What did you do?”

Larry shifted his weight nervously. Everyone else he was positive wouldn’t care too much about this- though, of course, that wasn’t even remotely true- but Rita?

“I.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. How is he supposed to tell her he was just cutting up his own arms in an attempt to feel better about himself? To punish himself for being gay? How do you say that casually? “I was.”

“You were?” In truth, Rita already had an idea what he was doing. She just needed him to admit he needed help.

Larry avoided eye contact, though that was invisible to Rita through his goggles. “I was. Dealing with. Things.” He can feel the dams breaking. He really, really does not want to cry to Rita right now.

“Dealing with what?” Come on, Larry.

“Shit.” was all he could get out before he started sobbing. Rita sighed and put her hand on his back, like she always did when he has a hard time. This was not the first time she’s seen him at his lowest, and she knew it wouldn’t be her last. It used to be a mystery to her- she always knew he was hiding something important about himself, but what it was, exactly, she couldn’t guess. Now that he came out, though, she had a whole new perspective on it all.

This explained a lot, actually. She had thrown away the bible Chief had gifted him, because she knew he did not like the church, though she didn’t understand why until now. He had always avoided talking about relationships at all, and would shut down when asked about his past. Larry didn’t know that she knew about the times he would hobble gingerly toward Chief’s lab, blood dripping from his limbs and the burden of being a sinner on his mind. Larry was especially bitter toward the spirit, after those nights. Now Rita knew how he was so sure it won’t let him die.

“It’s okay, Larry.” was all she could think to say. “You’re safe, now.” He couldn’t answer past pulling her into a hug. Rita was pretty sure he was getting blood on her dress- but she didn’t mind. “I’d offer to patch you up, but I think you have enough bandages.”

Larry couldn’t help but laugh slightly at that. “God, Rita. I’m sorry. I hate to involve you in my own shit-”

“Larry. You’re my best friend and I care about you, even if you don’t care about you.”

“I know. I just- I should be over this already. I haven’t been to church in over sixty years- my parents have been dead for seventy- John’s already moved on- I just- goddammit, Rita. I’m lonely.” He pulls away to sit on his bed, head in his hands. “I haven’t touched another man in- god knows how long- and all I can think about is how wanting to is in itself a fucking abomination-”

“No.” Rita interrupted. “I’m not allowing that kind of negativity! It is not an abomination and you know it.” Larry only looked at her. “Now continue.”

“Uh. Okay. I miss- god, it sounds so stupid, but- I really miss-” He struggles to find the words. “Kissing men?”

Rita only nodded.

“I didn’t have the chance to- very often- but- god, Rita. There was this club- near one of my posts at the military. Before I met John. It wasn’t officially anything, but it was already a pretty established gay club. But, you know- it was more of a secret.”

“There was one of those near my apartment, you know.” Larry nodded.

“They were usually old speakeasies. But there was this man there- he was- he was really something, Rita. He was a regular, I think. Really tall.” Larry sighed wistfully. Rita smiled at him. She liked seeing him like that. Happy- or at least as close to happiness as she’d seen him get. “We spent… a lot of time together. Mostly in motel rooms.”

“What was his name?”

“I don’t remember. It was so long ago. I miss him anyway, though. Even if it was just a fling.”

“I understand.” Rita said, simply. “Have you considered- getting out there, again?”

“What, like dating? Cliff suggested it to me, but- I thought he was too enthusiastic about it. I don’t know.” It scared him, to be honest.

“I’m sure there are other gay metahumans.” Rita assured him. “With a tolerance for radiation.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“What, then?”

“How can someone love me when I can’t?” Larry was emotionless through the bandages, but Rita thought she could hear a frown. “I hate myself so. Fucking. Much, Rita. I can’t kill myself no matter how much I try- but what good is someone who’s only alive because something else is forcing them to be? Who would want that kind of baggage, Rita? Not even the fucking spirit can handle it, and it’s the thing keeping me this way.” His chest glowed.

“The first step is realizing you have a problem.”

“I realize I have a problem, Rita. I realized it when I was seven years old, thinking about some boy in my math class. I realized it every-goddamn-day when my own mother would cry and tell me she wished I’d never been born- that no matter what I did she would always love God more than me.” His voice wavered. “I realized it in church, and in school, and at home- every time the newspapers would come in with more horror stories about gay men found dead- every time a kid got the shit beat out of him by his own parents. It’s nobody’s fault but my own, Rita.” He huffed, and Rita faltered. She had never seen this from him before. “God-fucking-dammit! If I could’ve just been a normal person- for once in my goddamn life- god. Oh my god.” He stopped.

“Larry?”

“I fucking died, didn’t I?” He stood suddenly. “I died in that fucking plane crash and this is hell. I can’t die. I can’t touch anyone. I’m stuck wallowing in my own self-loathing like a fucking-”

“Larry.” Rita said again, firmly.

“And I deserve all of it! I destroyed everyone I ever loved! Just because I’m not attracted to women? Big fucking deal! I should’ve just sucked it up. I’m a fucking coward! I should’ve killed myself when I was twenty like I planned! But no. I was too scared. Fuck this! I-”

“Larry!” Rita half-yelled, stopping Larry mid sentence. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you are not helping yourself. Stop having a pity-party and listen to me.”

Larry didn’t answer. He was breathing shakily. Rita could tell he was likely crying under there again.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing!” She held up her hands. “I’m sorry you were told there was, but they were blatantly wrong. All of them. Liars.” She paused to watch him. He was standing as still as a statue, watching her silently. She hoped that meant he was listening. “I know it’s been ingrained into you. But you need to leave it behind. Stop dragging it with you. It will only hurt more. You’re accepted here, Larry. Nobody would even consider hurting you over something as simple as your sexuality. You don’t need to carry that weight anymore.”

Larry sighed. “I’m sorry, Rita. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay, Larry. I can’t imagine what you could be going through- but I offer my support, nonetheless.”

“I.” He paused. “Thank you.” 

FIVE 

When Larry was in the ant farm, he did not fear the torture. He knew he had it coming, anyway. It was God’s Will.

“You transferred a lot, Larry.” Forsythe would say, through the glass. “You were running from something. I intend to find out what.”

“I wasn’t running from anything.” Larry would say, over and over again.

The truth was Larry was running. Every time he thought his secret would be compromised he ran. Every time a fling ended or a boyfriend left or any of his army friends even joked about him being gay- he ran.

Now he faced the consequences for his actions, and he understood.

-

“Larry.” Chief said, bringing him back to attention. “What’s troubling you?”

This was before it all went downhill. Before Larry would come out. Before Mr. Nobody would remind him of every mistake he’d ever made. Before everything.

“Nothing. Just- remembering, is all.” Larry answered, quietly. “Before the accident.”

“Before the accident?” Chief knew it wasn’t really an accident. Larry did not. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” Larry said, quickly. Chief already knew there was something about him and John. He couldn’t risk him figuring that out. “No. The past is- it’s already happened. It doesn't matter.”

“Oh, but it does, Larry.” Chief answered, in his usual way. “The past may not define us as much as the future, but it still needs to be learned from.” Larry sighed. He had heard this so many times.

“I did learn from it, Chief.” He learned very, very well. “It just sucks.”

“Is this about your friendship with John?” Larry froze. “I know you two were very… close.”

“We weren’t. I don’t want to talk about him.” He shrunk into his coat. Chief raised an eyebrow.

“You never want to talk about him, Larry. It’s not healthy.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s probably dead, now.”

“Do you miss him?” Chief tilted his head. He knew there had to be a way to get through Larry’s shell. If he was to be a hero, like Niles intended, he had to face this head-on.

Larry took a moment before answering, assessing the risks. Was it too obvious to say yes? “...I do.” He paused. “A. Bit.”

Chief nodded. He was getting closer. “Quite a bit, you would say?”

It was Larry’s turn to nod, adrenaline flaring up hot in his chest. “We were friends. That’s it.”

“I wasn’t implying anything else.” Larry breathed in slightly. Chief could tell he was getting anxious. “Though- we both know- you two were… a bit more than friends, yes?”

“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Larry glanced around, starting to panic. “Whoever told you that, Chief- I- it’s not true. I didn’t even like him!” That was a bold lie. “I mean- if anybody was cheating- I mean- Sheryl and I were strained by the end of it-” He’s grasping for straws.

“Larry. We both know Sheryl was-” Chief was interrupted by a flash of light and Larry’s head slamming on the table. The spirit stood through the table, eyeing Chief down. He couldn’t tell how it was feeling- but judging from how agitated Larry had been beforehand, he didn’t think it was happy with him. No matter.

“There you are.” He started, but the spirit shook its head. “No? You don’t want to talk to me?��� It shook its head again and held up a hand. “Oh. Who taught you the middle finger?” It tilted its head. Chief could feel it glaring daggers at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s important that Captain Trainor learn to-” The spirit had enough of that. It flew in a small circle around Chief, shorting out the lone light in the room. A threat. It knew Chief knew what it was capable of.

Larry awoke suddenly to Chief watching him. He must’ve needed the spirit for something- he doesn’t really know about John. He sighed, instinctively rubbing his goggles.

“That was… unintentional. I apologize, Larry.” Larry looked at him. What the fuck was he after? “Now- John-”

“No. Fuck, Niles. I’m not doing this.” Larry stood. “I’m not reliving my mistakes for you. I’m going to take a nap.”

“Larry. We both know it wasn’t a mistake.” Chief held out his hands. “You cheated on your wife. You hid. Why?”

“I did not cheat on Sheryl. I did not hide. Niles. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not going to-” He paused. “I’m not going to do this. I cared about her.” That, at least, was not a lie. “I loved her.” That was. “It’s over, now. I’m paying for what I did- who I was. Just- let that be.”

“Who were you, though?”

“I was a sinner, Chief.” Larry left. 

SIX x3 

“Sheryl.” Larry had said, so long ago. She looked over, glowing in the moon, her hair slightly in her face. He felt no attraction whatsoever for her. He tried to force himself to, anyway. It was sinful. He had to do this.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?” She smiled. She was his friend. He chose her only because she was the only girl he felt he could at least live with.

God. He felt sick. He knew this would hurt her, too. He didn’t want this.

“I love you.” Lying is a sin, too. A lesser of two evils, he had decided. Anything to avoid burning in hell. Anything. Just like his parents had told him. Just like the ministers said.

“Larry!” She had laughed. He felt like throwing up.

Outwardly, Larry had been untouched. Untainted by tragedy and self-hatred. Inwardly, he had become a flaming wreck long before that crash.

-

“Vic.” Larry stood in the doorway, nervously. “Hey.”

“Hey, Larry.” Vic turned to give him a wave. “What’s up?”

“Well. I. Uh.” Larry paused. This was terrifying. “You know- computers and stuff, right?”

“Uh- yeah! What do you need?” Vic looks at him for a moment. He really didn’t mind helping everyone with modern technology! He just never really realized how old everyone was until he was explaining to Larry how color TVs worked- or that cocaine was not a viable medicine anymore to Rita.

“I. Want to meet people.” He held up his phone. “I don’t. Know how.”

“Oh. Where did you get that phone?”

“Rita said I could borrow it.”

“...Okay. What do you want me to do?” Vic hasn’t dated since he was in high school. What was Larry expecting from him?

“Cliff said there are apps for it. For men. Meeting. Other. Men.” Larry is gritting his teeth. “You know computers. I want to. Download one.”

“Oh. Oh! I can help you with that. To an extent.” Vic clarified. “I’ll only help you set up and show you how to use it- the chatting is up to you.”

“Okay.” Larry handed him the phone.

“What are you after? There’s apps for metahumans, and gay people- I’m pretty sure there’s one for veterans-”

“Well. I guess I’d need. The metahuman one. Since they’d need. Some kind of.” He held up his hands. “Immunity.”

“Right.” Vic did not like that implication. “Does Rita know you want to hook up with guys through her phone?”

“Yes. She helped me prepare for this conversation.” Larry shuffled his feet nervously. “It. Did not work. Still awkward.”

“You two are close. Okay- so I downloaded an app called Metameet- it’s mainly for metahumans but there’s an option for gay members. You’re- what, 95? So I already set your username as larrytrainor. That’s usually what- people around your age do.”

“I’m 92. Though the accident was when I was 30-something.”

“Okay. I’ll put that as your age. And. Probably mention that you’re immortal.”

“No. Wait.” Larry put his hand on Vic’s shoulder. “Don’t put that I’m gay. Please.”

“Larry, it’ll say you’re a man seeking a man either way.”

“I know. I just- I can’t be gay. I can’t.” He nearly gagged on the word both times. Vic only looked at him.

“...Okay.” He hit the backspace button. “What’s your problem with it?”

Larry froze. Over the past month he’s had to explain this- five times? “Uh. I.” Fuck. Fuck! He doesn’t deserve this. “It’s just not allowed. I’m not- I’m not supposed to be- into men.”

“You know that’s not true, right?” Vic gave him a confused look. “You… are allowed to be gay, Larry.”

“It’s not like that. I-” He breathed in. “I guess you’re a little too young to really get it.”

“Try me.”

“In the 30s and 40s when I was a kid- it wasn’t- legal. To like. Others. Of the same sex.”

“Yeah?”

“Everyone was really religious, too. So. As hard as I tried to hide it- my parents eventually figured it out. I was 11. After that it just-” He paused. Vic nodded.

“Oh. We learned about that in history in high school.”

“Yeah. It was pretty common for parents to try and beat it out of us.” He paused. “Didn’t work.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Vic started-

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter, now.”

“Okay.” A pause. “I’m going to put ‘radiation immunity’ as a must.”

“That’s a good idea.” Another pause.

“Can I ask…?”

“Ask what?”

“How did you meet him?”

Larry went silent for a minute, and Vic was scared he made him sad again, somehow.

“We were in the same squadron.” He started slowly, remembering. “He wasn’t my first, honestly- but he was the- he was the one I really loved. I- honestly? If it wasn’t- literally illegal- and I was already married- I probably would have-” He stopped. He never said that out loud.

“That’s. That’s rough, Larry.” He stopped to think. “You can do that now, you know.”

“Yeah. I think- I think that’s why I’m doing this.” A pause.

“I think I’m ready to live the way I always wanted to.”

[bigskydreaming]

So this is...its a thing. Let’s go with that. I’ve been calling around LA for pretty much all of last week, going through every oral surgeon I can find to see if they do the surgery I need and what their schedules are like, how soon I could get into surgery, etc, and also I’ve been asking literally everyone I know if they know of anyone, have a referral, etc. Even reached out to this old client of mine from back when I was doing sex work, years and years ago, to see if he knew anyone in LA with connections at Cedars Sinai or another hospital, like, to see if they could even just check with their hospital to see what visiting doctors specialize in that kinda thing. Keeping in touch with people from my sex work days, lol, is not something I normally did, or do. He’s literally the only one, and that’s because it just....kinda happened? *Shrugs* He's not a regular presence in my life or anything like that, just the only one from those days that for various reasons, I kinda kept in casual contact with - which for me pretty much meant that I called him or he called me like, a couple times a year to just be like hey how you been. And it’d been a couple years to be honest, cuz like....*gestures at the last two years* 

LOLOL. I guess I just have very low standards for people keeping in contact with me. Who knows why. One of those inexplicable mysteries I guess.

But point is, he got back to me like, the same day, and acted as a go between for me with this old friend of his, who works at Cedars Sinai as a chaplain, their non-denominational one...last week, at the time, I was only focused on the advice part of the email he sent after he asked around the hospital for recommendations, and it kinda didn’t even register that this guy wasn’t just....had connections at Cedars Sinai, but was actually working there himself (for some reason, I thought he was in a different state when first put in contact with him, whatever). Let alone what his title there was. So he gave a recommendation that I’m following up on today, and I just called the old client of mine who put me in touch with him to clarify a few things he’d say, and it only then hit me where this friend of his worked, and so I asked how long he’d worked there and turns out it was two years.

Which was...when my aunt killed herself. And that was where she worked.

So. Like. This random guy who I’ve never met before, doing a favor for me as a favor for this guy who used to pay me for sex and kinda almost accidentally ended up as like...a casual but distant friend, is literally the guy who was hired to replace my aunt as the non-denominational chaplain at Cedars Sinai when she died two years ago.

And I don’t have the first fucking clue what to do with that?

Like....I’ve always considered myself ‘comfortably agnostic,’ like I’m more than willing to believe a higher power exists, I’m just not all that concerned with forming a definitive idea of what that might be or look like or want. I hate organized religion with a passion because lol, repressive Catholic upbringing, and I’ve just never felt a particular need to go out and look for faith in anything other than myself and like....the things in life I actually value, y’know? I’m of the mindset that like, I figure if I do things cuz they’re the right things to do and try and live a good life where I’m helpful to people and empathetic and compassionate, whatever that Higher Power’s specific deal is, they’re either gonna decide that’s good enough for them when I die, or if its not good enough on its own merits, like...idk why I would even want anything from them or anything to do with them anyway? Like sure God, send me to hell because the only thing that really matters in the end is I didn’t sign up for your official email mailing list or whatever the fuck. Nope. 

So religion and faith and spirituality have never been a big...thing for me, or part of my life, its not something I really feel like, a void for not having or whatever. I don’t have an issue with what anyone else believes or why, up until the point where their personal faith apparently requires them to like....impinge upon my actual life and ability to live it the way I choose to....but I’m not like that dude who goes around trying to poke holes in peoples’ faith, just like...respect that I’m not interested in a sales pitch and we’re cool, y’know? Like my aunt was a chaplain, literally the only person in my family who ever kept in regular contact and like, made a point to check on how I was doing and shit and like...idk, loved me, is I guess the word to use? LMFAO. But like....yeah, she was the only relative I actually felt valued by, and thus the only one I really had anything like a regular or ongoing relationship with....*shrugs* So like yeah, whatever. She believed things that I don’t necessarily NOT believe, but more just have never felt a need to explore or try and decide just WHAT exactly I believe or put a name or a description to it.

And I’ve never been someone who sees signs in stuff that happens, nooooooot a fan of fate or destiny as a general concept and like....I’ve got no problem believing that things like ghosts or demons or anything like that could exist, y’know, things that just can’t be explained by science or anything near to our current understanding of reality at least....I’ve just never had anything remotely close to something I would describe as an encounter with the supernatural, or demonic or divine or anything really...spiritual, I guess?

So.....I don’t know what to feel about this, lol. Like, I’m trying not to read anything into it, like y’know....a sign, haha, not because I wouldn’t like to think that my aunt is still looking out for me in some way, I guess, maybe? Like, of course I’d like to think that, I miss her. A lot. And actually have been randomly thinking about her a bunch lately, like at weird times like, I don’t know what it is that made me stop and think of her, my thoughts go there? So I mean....I’m just saying....it wouldn’t break my brain or upend my entire worldview to accept that could actually happen or be a thing, its more just that I’ve gotten my hopes up so many damn times this past year in specific, that I’m just like....I cant afford to pin my hopes on THIS, like that this is ‘a sign’ that this time, its going to work out? But at the same time, its SO FUCKING SPECIFIC a connection like, and in such a WEIRD fucking round about way, that its pretty much impossible NOT to try and read something into it? Like, the guy who replaced her never even MET her, she’s literally just the woman who had his office before him and well. Is probably just remembered as a depressing story around the hospital, to be totally honest, cuz like, there’s not a lot of follow up that tends to happen when you ask so what happened to her and the answer is well, she killed herself, y’know?

So its like, how do you not get your hopes up even just a little bit, from thinking about that......which I figure means, oops, further to fall and crash and burn if this lead fizzles out too and I got my hopes up for nothing, but if it does pan out, like....I guess that’s kinda the point of faith in a higher power in the first place, lol, to hope for better or believe that there’s a point to all this or a place this all is headed, idk.

But then also now I just fucking miss her too, like, even more than usual, and thinking the shit I’ve tried really really really goddamn hard not to think about for the past two years, like how I know she had her own mental health struggles and even physical health issues, and I know better than to fucking blame her and yet there’s that part of me that wants to fucking throw a tantrum about how i need her and how could she leave me alone with just the rest of my useless fucking joke of a family, but then there’s the other part of me that’s like well I obviously wasn’t the help she needed either, so its not like I’ve got any right to think I was owed her presence or help or anything like that, its just. Idk. I miss her. I need her. I love her, like there’s so many things I want to tell her that I never got the chance to because I didn’t just fucking take the chances I had when they were actually available and there are so many more things I wish she’d told me, and just. I knew she cared, at least. No matter how detached I felt from the rest of my family or just like...fuck family in general, lol, she was the one person there who I never doubted like...just cared. About me. Gave a shit, showed up, wanted me to actually be happy and wanted that to look like whatever I wanted it to look like, didn’t give a fuck what other people thought my happiness should look like or require.

And its just like, maybe this is just a really weird, strange, major coincidence or maybe its a sign of something or proof of something and maybe it doesn’t even matter, bc like...I was just gonna say that its not like I even NEED the answers or to know, but like lol, dumbass, the fact that I’m actually asking the questions or getting worked up over whether or not I actually believe this means something or I just WANT to believe it means something, like, would tend to suggest I’m shitting myself and I DO actually want the answers which suggests maybe I’m not actually as agnostic or at least not comfortable with being agnostic as I’ve told myself, which....oh fucking hell. Am I having an existential crisis? Is that what this is? Jfc I better not be having a fucking spiritual awakening or whatever the fuck, like that is not what I need, this is NOT the time for that, literally nobody asked and I should know, Ive been here the whole time and nope nope nope this guy is not your ‘but the real salvation came from finding strength and purpose in something greater than myself in my most dire time of need’ narrative or whatever like I FUCKING REFUSE, my belief system can go to the BACK OF THE LINE until I’m good and ready to deal with it on MY time, I didn’t sign on to do a rewrite of some modernized Book of Job shit, literally any other thought in my brain is invited to step the fuck right up because THANK YOU, NEXT, I just willingly made an Ariana Grande reference because I can think of nothing more suitably over the top dramatic short of tossing my hair which is much too short to toss but again I insist nooooooooooooooope.

Like, love you and miss you Aunt Diane, and if that is you looking out for me plz know I’m very grateful even tho it totally doesn’t sound like it, but like, you know me well enough to know that I like....object to this timing and context on principle, WHICH YES HELLO I AM AWARE SOUNDS FUCKING STUPID NOW THAT IM TYPING IT OUT YET IT PERSISTS SO LIKE WHATEVER AND STUFF....just. I am me, and thus I shall super gratefully take like....just a smidgen of hope and optimism or whatever from this offering so like, I don’t want to be RUDE, but then Im gonna put the rest of it back in its box and shove it alllll the way to the back of my Pressing Priorities and unpack all that at a very fucking much later date, thank you ever so much, because like....I gotta be me, and I have been partners in crime with my Cynicism for way too long to just bail on him now, like, what kind of person would I be if I just cut and run on the anthropomorphized negative outlook that has helped see me through life oh so jadedly until now? 

Ugh wtf, why am I like this, is it free will or is it God or is God even real or did Cthulu eat god or is God’s actual name Sonya and like I have no clue where I’m going with any of this, look the answer is obviously that a faithless blasphemous heretical fucker has phone calls to make today, and nobody’s finding the light here, nope, nope, NOOOOOPE, my motel’s one shitty lightbulb works GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME.