#and then he leaves you stunned with something so weird and unhinged

[merakiui]

I don't read many of your fics, quite honestly i think i have only read two of them but jesus fucking christ is your writing absolutely magnificent, my fav is that yandere rook fic with the artist reader. everything about that fic is just so we'll put together, the way you characterized yandere rook, the way you made reader's reaction, the way you described the way he was painted and how you described his house, everything about it was so terrifying, it's so hard to find yandere fics that genuinely induce fear so when i find one i get super obsessed with it, especially one like yours that was so well written i have re-read it about like what? 8 or 10 times now? it's just constantly coming back to my brain and absolutely destroying it, thank you for all your hard work, seriously

AAAAAA (∩˃o˂∩)♡ thank you so so much, anon!!!!! I'm very happy that my Rook fic and its many aspects can be considered frightening!!! And reading it 8 or 10 times!!!! Omg I'm immensely flattered it's a fic you can read more than once and continue to enjoy!!!!!

[therealcocoshady]

Eminem with a younger girlfriend - HCs

Hey guys ! Here is a little HC that popped in my head about Marshall Mathers dating someone significantly younger 😉. I hope you enjoy it 💕 it is directly inspired by my experience, a twentysomething who is roughly Hailie’s age, thirsting over him 🙊

- Marshall Mathers knows he’s got young ladies thirsting over him but he shrugs it off. Don’t get him wrong, he is flattered, but it makes him just a tiny bit uncomfortable. And when someone shows him some of these unhinged thirst tweets written by twentysomethings who are even younger than his own kids ? He is downright mortified.

- He doesn’t really get why people his kids’ age think he is attractive. Of course, music is part image and everything, but he’s got three daughters who constantly tease him for being a dork. Same for the younger rappers he works with. So he absolutely does not think of himself as a sex symbol or anything.

- He kind of figures people are not really attracted to him. That it’s more about the fame and the fact that pictures can be misleading. I mean, have you seen the way they photoshop his lines ? He really thinks people would come off it rather quickly if they saw him in person.

- Also, he’s young at heart, but he is very much aware of his « inner old man », who takes just as much space as his inner child. So, to him, no young lady in their right mind would actually be interested in him.

- By the way, he is more easily attracted by someone older than him than younger. And in the instances where he has dated younger women, a decade was the bigger age gap he would allow.

- Unless he meets you, that is. When you meet, the chemistry is immediate. He can’t even deny it. He is just attracted to you as you are to him.

- At first, he does not really register the age difference. But then, you say something like « oh, I remember when that song came out. I was eight ! » that has him in shock.

- He thinks you are absolutely stunning. And he knows he is allowed to. You’re over the age of 21, it’s not like you’re a teenager or anything. You’re an actual adult, mature and everything. But he is still weirded out. It doesn’t help that your personality makes you even more attractive. He is drawn to you and it kind of leaves him wondering if he’s being kind of creepy.

- As soon as he realizes how old (how young) you are he kind of stops flirting. « I’m sorry, i just- I thought you liked me ? » you say as you finally decide to confront him. « Yeah, I did. I do. It’s just… I’m 51 », he replies in an attempt to offer an explanation. « And ? » you ask with a raised eyebrow. « I hadn’t realized you were so young » he continues. « i didn’t realize i looked so old », you said with a pout. « No ! I mean- Look, I like you, you’re great. You look incredible. But I’m old enough to be your dad », he says. « I mean, I wouldn’t mind calling you Da- » you jokingly begin, but he shuts you up with a death stare real quick.

- You try the « come on, age is just a number argument » but it does not work as well as you hoped it would. « You know who would agree with you ? R. Kelly » he replies with a raised eyebrow.

- The two of you keep on talking and hanging out but he insists there won’t be anything besides friendship. Until, one night, your flirty banter finally earns you a kiss. « I knew you’d give in », you grin with pride and satisfaction. « I can still change my mind », he playfully threatens.

- The two of you start dating eventually but, in the beginning, he mentally slaps himself a handful of times. That being said, he absolutely can’t resist you.

- He wouldn’t go public with anyone, but especially not with someone with whom he has such a significant age gap.

- It’s also a reason why he doesn’t want to tell people about your relationship. He’s very reluctant to introduce you to his friends and meet your loved ones.

- He knows his friends would absolutely not leave him alone with the age jokes. You can count on his buddies to make jokes about you having a daddy kink.

- Speaking of which… You’ve got a Daddy kink ? Well that’s too damn bad. Because he will absolutely puke if you call him that. Nothing gives this man the ick more than the thought of you being with him because of some unresolved daddy issues.

- That being said, he will absolutely activate his « dad mode » in some circumstances. He doesn’t even do it on purpose. It’s in the little things, like the way he scolds you for not wearing anything warmer or how he reminds you to call him as soon as you get out of the club.

- He won’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t wear but he’s not a big fan of you wearing anything that makes you look younger than your years.

- Speaking of looks… dating someone younger definitely makes him more self-conscious about his own appearance. It’s already hard seeing yourself age when you’re a rapper but dating someone younger makes it worse. It definitely has him second-guessing his outfit choices.

- And even though you tell him you like his fine lines and graying hair… he is not having any of that. Look at him using (and abusing) the dye and skincare.

- With time, though, he doesn’t think too much about the age difference. At least, he doesn’t obsess over it too much.

- But he will absolutely throw it in your face in an argument, maybe using it to call you immature or something. (Even if he’s the one being immature)

- That being said, don’t you dare pull that shit on him and suggest that you might indeed go for someone your age. He is pretty confident but he is terrified to lose you to someone younger.

- Deep down, his biggest insecurity about your relationship is that your life plans might not align. And even if you assure him that you’re on the same page, he still braces himself for the day you decide to leave him.

- You might be self-conscious too, given the fact that he is usually attracted to women older than you. But he always makes sure to ease your mind.

- As the relationship progresses, he allows himself to be more committed to you but his reluctance to go « public » might cause some issues.

- Ultimately, though, people around you are supportive of the relationship - even though some of them might have some initial doubts.

- Let’s be honest : the most stressful part is not your friends or his. It’s family. He is terrified of introducing you to his daughters. And his stress is communicative. Also, he’s not too eager to meet your parents. Because he knows exactly how he’d react to his daughters dating someone his age.

- He is not one to give in to PDA anyway but it’s even worse when there’s family around. This man will not be caught holding your hand or even staring at you too intently. Even if people know you’re together. He is guarded like that.

- His daughters might end up telling him there were « signs » that he was dating someone younger : like some newfound interest in a particular TV show, more skincare in his bathroom…

- People around him aren’t specifically bothered by the age gap in itself. But you might be subjected to more scrutiny. They’d be quicker to assume you’re in it for shallow reasons.

- But once you’re in… you’re in. If anything, his whole entourage will be even more impressed. They know that dating Marshall isn’t a piece of cake and they’re really impressed that you handled the scrutiny they subjected you to so well.

- The more time goes on, the less of a big deal the age gap becomes, to you, to him and to anyone else.

- The only reminders are the little harmless jokes and Marshall’s celebration of anything that proves you’re aging. You might be a little self-conscious about your first wrinkles but he’s lowkey relieved. Maybe he won’t feel like a creep. 🙊

[lucky-clover-gazette]

so i know the amandafiles sneasler rant went pretty viral on here, but the real highlights of her pokemon legends arceus playthrough were her unhinged volo-related rants. this one is probably my favorite but there were many and i will absolutely clip and transcribe (not by hand i'm not that insane) more of them if asked

transcript under the cut:

Yeah. So, um, I'm just kind of leaving the scene of the crime now. And hopefully Adaman is still interested. That's all I have to say. Yeah, that's my statement at this time. Thank you. Thank you! Yeah, mhm. Bye.

Like, what. Is Volo gonna fucking pop out at me from the shadows over here? Is anybody around to talk to me? Like, about what just happened?

(Sees Melli.) Not what I meant, but um, you know what? Fuck it, Melli, guess what just happened. So, you know that guy Volo? Basically, like, we were talking, right? It was actually going pretty well. You know, just like this nerd, and he was like, so cute and so, like, excited about history and stuff, and, like, I was really feeling that, you know, and I dunno, he was, like, my champion. He was there for me when no one else was. He, like, picked me up off the ground at my lowest point. He was always cheering me on. He was always, like, hyping me up to other people. Wouldn't that be awesome, Mellie, if like someone ever did that for you? Not that that would ever happen, of course, but, like, can you imagine, like, someone being out there being like, "yes, like, that's the one, like, that's my girl. She's been doing it like, she's working so hard." That was Volo for me.

Melli, imagine my surprise when I go up to the mountain there because—we did this whole thing. Basically, I'm an important person. You wouldn't really understand. I, like, collected all these artifacts. I thought we were going to, like, do this thing that was important to, like, the history of the world.

But turns out Volo was fucking insane. And, like, no, I truly mean that, like crazy and saying he was like, a totally different person. He had been cosplaying as a normie the entire time. He's really a serial killer, I think. He's like a lunatic, right? Like, a cringey one. He did his hair. So he, like, is obsessed with Arceus. Right. The god pokémon. And Arceus, like—have you ever seen a picture of him? I'll pull it up on my Arc Phone real quick. He's got these, like, horns that come back and stuff. Bitch, he did his HAIR like this. AHH! I know. I got, like, a little picture of it. Look at him! An entire bottle of American Crew.

He, like, totally thought he ate that, but, like, he didn't. It looked so bad, but, like, that was the least of it. He was—his eyes got crazy. He was wearing, like, bright green capris and gladiator sandals. AHH! Melli, I know. it was fucked up. You know, it's like how quickly they change when you find out, like, what they really were after and what they really want. It was stunning. Startling, Melli, it's really like—have you ever had, like, an experience like that before with a guy? Probably not, since you're so insufferable and, like, you probably have never had anyone show interest in you before, platonically or otherwise, but maybe, like, read a book or something where that happened. That happened to me. That happened to me today.

I really had a huge crush on this guy. Like, to the point where I thought he was the one, Melli, I really did. I was like, ready to leave this whole place with him. Travel the world, and I won't lie to you, um… if he had been like, "Hey, you want to be crazy together? You want to be crazy with me?" I might have done it. I might have also tried that lifestyle out for a minute. I would have tried, like, the villain arc thing out… but lucky for you, it didn't work out. Otherwise, you would have been right on the top of my list. But anyway, yeah, I ended up, like, totally embarrassing him. We did a pokémon battle and he just fucking violently lost.

And then he teamed up with, like, the satan pokémon? It was weird. And they tried their little thing. It was cute. It was very cute. You know, I have to give it—it was camp, It was cute, it was like rehearsed. There was some choreography. It was cute, but obviously they lost horribly. But anyway, yeah, that's, uh. That's how my Tuesday's going. And I'm going to stop you there, Melli, because I really don't care. This wasn't an open invitation for you to talk. I just wanted to let someone know what had just happened.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

(Jjsheh. This is perhaps my most unhinged essay yet, brace yourselves. I know it's not very coherent, I sound like I'm tripping, rambling about ancient Egyptian deities and all. I'm not the only one to have talked of rebirth though so hopefully I'm not alone in this mental collapse.)

I'm a wreck. It's just such BLATANT BUDDIE SUBTEXT to air THESE SCENES in the same episode!!!!

First, Eddie finding out Buck went on a date with a man and his stunned

"Omg I need to reconstruct my entire worldview. But I'm not weirded out!! I'm an ALLY!!"-deer in the headlights reaction to that!!

Finding out that both Buck and Tommy are into men will be such a curveball for Eddie, hitting him directly in the solar plexus, leaving him gasping.

The images that will start sprouting in his mind...

And the way that suddenly they're BOTH stumbling in this gigantic maze of confusion and questioning, looking at each other anew...

realising they need to reconstruct their entire worldviews because all of a sudden... They've been shattered.

The way that Buck looks at Eddie...?

The mirrored MASKS that both of these lines are!!

Starting to realise their worlds are in ashes.

Then rebirth.

Phoenix rising!!!

It's that treasure hunt riddle again.I've tried to figure it out and the way I read it, I think it's about feelings realization.

The "Narrow place" in the riddle sounds like an obvious arrow to Egypt. That's what the hebrew people called it or something, due to the divisional geography/the stories about them being enslaved there. Something like that.

And of course the river's edge in the riddle would then be The Nile. Denial.

And that heron? The ancient egyptian version of a Phoenix, Bennu. The deity of sun, creation, rebirth.

And what's a secret treasure by denial's edge? It's love. A secret treasure. Precious, yet something you want to hide. Hidden. Buried.

And the bullfrog is a reference to a line in a song, I think. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog".

Originally the line was supposed to be "Jeremiah was a prophet". The assistant in the episode, who was asked to hide the treasure... is called Jeremiah.

Jeremiah, the prophet, according to the Bible apparently traveled to Egypt himself.

But in the treasure hunt episode he steals the treasure and takes off to Maledives - an island without river's, btw!! No DeNial there!

Also... Another link to Egypt/Denial is the bullfrog croaking good measure.

"Ancient Egyptians used weights, like this small frog, to help calculate the value of goods. One Ancient Egyptian unit of measurement was the qedet, equivalent to about nine grams. "

"The Ancient Egyptians linked frogs to fertility and rebirth, likely because of the animal’s prolific reproduction.

These ties to abundance may have made frogs a suitable form for objects used to determine value."

Secret treasure, frogs, measurement, value, herons, narrow place = Egypt, the river's edge... (& My loss of sanity) Lots of links.

So let's see.

I walked along the river's Denial's edge

To hide my secret treasure love

The heron phoenix soared (= I burned, I was reborn.)

The gray bridge roared I saw you. (Because the bridge would be a reference to the "I see you!!" scene with Lola and Norman on that bridge, I think?)

And

"Isn't that what we all want in a partner, to be seen?"

I stopped beneath the willow tree

In the narrow place

And saw a light beam fall upon my treasured place hidden love

The light beam... It think it's truth? Realization, rebirth...

Btw, in the Bible Jeremiah writes about willow trees with much passion. It symbolizes hope, will grow by the river even in times of draught. So trust the Lord (the showmakers).

Also, this recent data of Marisol being nunlike?? What's "Nun" in relation to the Egypt theme?

Nun was represented as a frog or a frog-headed man (as a member of the Ogdoad) but could also be depicted as a bearded man with blue or green skin (reflecting his link with the river Nile and fertility).

In the latter form he can look fairly similar to Hapi (LOL), the god of the Nile, and often appears either standing on a solar boat or rising from the waters holding a palm frond (a symbol of long life), Occasionally, he appears as a hermaphrodite with pronounced breasts.

Nu ("Watery One") or Nun ("The Inert One") (Ancient Egyptian: nnw Nānaw; Coptic: Ⲛⲟⲩⲛ Noun), in ancient Egyptian religion, is the personification of the primordial watery abyss which existed at the time of creation and from which the creator sun god Ra arose.[1]

So let's watch the sun, rising from the denial!

[pastelsapphy]

Inferno

"I wanted to bring here everyone that should get on their knees for Saeran. Me, that woman, and V..." Saeyoung Choi is not a man of mercy. He is a hellbound force of retribution with nothing left to lose. Those who hurt his brother will pay for it in blood. What if Saeyoung had brought V to the cabin too? Warnings: Major character death, murder, suicide, arson, death by fire, unhinged Saeyoung. Read on AO3 A/N: "Hey Luc, didn't you post this already?" Yes. And then I edited the post fifty times and added an AO3 link, so I wanted to make a neater post. Anyway, I wrote this at midnight because the thought wouldn't leave me alone. I wonder what Saeyoung's plan was if he'd gotten all three of them to the cabin like he'd wanted in VAE. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be pretty. And I think seeing both of the people he blamed Saeran's death in front of him... the thought that Saeran wouldn't want revenge wouldn't stop him. Not this time. The world needs more unhinged Saeyoung. Let him be angry and terrifying. I'm normally not a fan of unhappy endings, so maybe a miracle happens. Maybe Saeyoung ends up with a cool scar to match his brother's. Maybe not. Who knows.

There is an old clock in the cabin. Saeyoung isn't sure how it still works--it's not like anyone who comes out here is about to change the batteries or anything. Yet it works, filling the tiny wooden building with a steady tick, tick, tick as the seconds go by.

It's fitting, really. It's as if the universe is counting down the minutes. How many more does he have? Maybe it's only a few. Perhaps as much as an hour. Certainly not much more than that.

Tick, tick, tick.

He had already sent Vanderwood outside. Well, forced them out might be more accurate--they could tell something was wrong with Saeyoung. Of course, they knew about his brother by this point; they knew he was going to grieve, and grieving people do weird shit to cope. And Saeyoung is a weird guy to begin with. But something was just... off. It was a feeling in their gut. Something snapped in that kid's brain and Vanderwood wasn't keen on leaving him to his own devices.

"I'm not leaving you by yourself so you can do something stupid," Vanderwood had said.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, Vanderwood." Saeyoung did not shift his gaze away from the cabin's other two occupants. "It's in everyone's best interest if you wait outside."

"I told you I'm--"

"Get the fuck out!" Saeyoung snapped, briefly looking away to shoot a glare at the other agent.

Vanderwood had been momentarily stunned into silence. They yelled at Saeyoung on a regular basis--the kid had caused them so many headaches over the years--but never had Saeyoung snapped back like that. He would make smartass remarks, god knows he was full of them, but he never yelled. If he had ever been truly angry with Vanderwood, he had never shown it.

There was a long silence, broken only by the ever-present tick, tick, tick of the old clock. Then, Vanderwood had sighed and stood from their chair. "Fine. But if I think you're about to do something that will endanger both our lives, I'm coming back."

"You don't have to worry about that. Just wait outside, Agent."

Something about the way he said that sent a chill down their spine. Maybe it was his tone, now constantly laced with barely-restrained rage. Maybe it was the fact that he called them Agent. Maybe it was instinct. But after another moment's pause, they stepped outside the cabin. They reached into their pocket for their cigarettes, only to find them gone, along with their lighter. Must have left them in the cabin. By the time they turned around to check, Saeyoung had already latched the door behind them.

So now it's just the three of them, three people tied together by one unbreakable thread. Three people who weren't human anymore. Three monsters. Three killers with blood on their hands. The worst kind of scum, all responsible for taking the life of an innocent--someone too kind and pure for this world.

Saeran may have been the one to detonate the bomb that destroyed Magenta, but the three who sit in the cabin--Saeyoung Choi, Jihyun Kim, Rika Kim--are the ones responsible. They all killed Saeran. Saeran's blood coats their hands and would never, could never, be washed away.

Tick, tick, tick.

V, ever the mediator, is the first to break the silence. "Luciel--"

"Why?" The word tears itself from Saeyoung's throat, finally pushing past the lump of rage and guilt that threatens to strangle him.

"I'm sorry, Saeyoung," Rika says. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened. If I could go back, if I could trade my life for his--"

"You have no right to say that." Saeyoung spits, standing abruptly. "You have no! Right!"

Rika falls silent, her hollow-eyed gaze dropping to the floor. Saeyoung hates it. Her demeanor only angers him further. How dare she play the victim? Maybe the 'it's all my fault, I'm the worst, I deserve retribution' thing would garner sympathy from other people, but not Saeyoung. He, in fact, wholeheartedly agrees. It is all her fault. She is the worst person in the world. She does deserve retribution. The same goes for V and himself.

"Luciel--" V tries again.

"And neither do you!" Saeyoung's venom now turns to him. "Don't you dare say anything about sacrifice. It means nothing. It won't bring him back. It won't change what you did to him."

Tick, tick, tick.

"I trusted you," Saeyoung says. "I. Trusted. You. You promised me--you swore to me that you would protect him! How could you--" his voice cracks. "How could you do that to him? Saeran was good. Saeran was innocent. Saeran was kind, and gentle, and he deserved to be loved. But you--you--"

He lets out a frustrated noise, unable to turn his thoughts into words. His mind is nothing but a loop of rage, rage, rage. Rage and vengeance and shame and guilt.

"You killed him," he finally growls. "Both of you killed him. And... so did I. Every one of us is responsible for what happened to him."

"Luciel," V tries again. "We--" he sighs. "Please, Luciel... if anything, do not blame yourself--"

"How?" He snaps. "How?! I trusted you both to look after him. To care for him. To treasure him. And instead, you manipulated and brainwashed him. You tortured him just like our mother did." He feels a twisted sense of satisfaction at the pained gasp Rika lets out, as if she's been stabbed through the heart.

Saeyoung decides to twist the knife further. "Actually, you were even worse than our mother. At least she never lied to us. We knew from the beginning that she only wanted us to get money from our father, that she never loved either of us. But you? You lied. You promised to protect us, to help us. But in the end you were just the same. You gave us hope only for your own selfish needs.

"Saeran spent every day of his life living in fear while you beat all the kindness and gentleness out of him.

"And you--" Now he speaks directly to V. "You did nothing to stop her. Fuck all your excuses. I don't care about your sacrifice. You were only ever concerned with her. You were only ever protecting her. If you had really wanted to protect Saeran then you would have saved him from her. You can martyr yourself all you want, it won't make you any better than her."

Tick, tick, tick.

The air in the room shifts abruptly. It's charged, thrumming like a livewire. The explosive anger evaporates in an instant; it's replaced by something far more terrifying.

"All of Saeran's killers must be held responsible for what happened," Saeyoung says. His anger is no longer a raging inferno. Now, his anger is like ice. It's calm, now. No less intense, but calm. As if he had long ago decided a course of action.

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung crosses the room and reaches for something behind one of the chairs. He wonders, briefly, what his brother's last moments were like. How did the bomb detonate? Had Saeran simply pressed a button and ended it, or was he forced to sit there and listen as a timer counted down his last minutes on Earth?

Tick, tick, tick.

Rika does not react, but V's eyes widen when Saeyoung lifts a large, red plastic canister from behind the chair. "Luciel, what are you--"

Saeyoung unceremoniously upends the container in the middle of the cabin's main room. The liquid quickly soaks into the carpet and the wood flooring, and the heavy smell of gasoline fills the room.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Luciel! Wait, let's talk about this--" V has risen to his feet, but freezes when Saeyoung pulls a beat-up zippo from his pocket.

"Talk?" Saeyoung says, laughing. "Talk?! You had years to talk, V, but you stayed silent and let Saeran suffer. The time for talking has long since passed."

Tick, tick, tick.

He flicks the lighter open with a small metallic clink.

"Saeran wouldn't want this," V tries. His half-blind, once-honest eyes are wide and desperate.

"Don't you dare speak his name!" Saeyoung shouts. "You don't deserve to say his name."

"Please--"

"It doesn't matter anymore what he would have wanted."

It's then that V notices the tears running down Saeyoung's cheeks, the tremble in his voice. Had he ever seen Saeyoung cry before?

"He's gone. And he's never coming back. And those responsible need to pay for it.

"Heh... you know, this is the first time I wished I could get into Heaven," Saeyoung continues, voice breaking. "Just for a few minutes. Just long enough to apologize to Saeran. For everything. For not being able to protect him. For leaving him. For being a terrible brother. For betraying him. For failing him. Beg for his forgiveness. All of us should."

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung lets out a low chuckle. "Knowing Saeran... he would probably forgive us. Not that any of us deserve it. So perhaps it's better this way."

Tick, tick, tick.

"Take your revenge, Saeyoung." Rika's voice is hardly above a whisper, yet it seems so loud in such a small space.

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung lowers himself to the ground, thumb on the wheel of the zippo. The gasoline soaks into the legs of his jeans. His head feels light, and he's not sure if it's from the fumes or if it's a weight lifting off his shoulders.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You wanted us all to be a family, right?" He says.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Then let's go to Hell together."

Tick, tick,

Click

Tick--

BOOM.

[mosswillow]

Focus - Dark!Bucky Barnes x ADHD!Reader

Warnings! Dark! 18+ content, vaginal fingering, noncon/dubcon, smut, kidnapping, oral (female receiving)

Summary: You never should have taken the job cleaning for Stark industries. The Avengers might be heroes on the outside but something sinister lies just beneath the surface.

A/N: this is part of the Synonyms series. You can read any of them as stand alones but I encourage reading them in order if you want to read all of them. This one specifically ties them all together (but you can still read it alone and it should make sense)

This is one of those where it doesn’t feel done but I’m done writing it. I think I just hyped it up in my head too much so after actually writing it I’m like, eh it’s not as good as I thought it would be.

Word count: 3.4k

If you could just focus, everything in your life would be better.

Your inattention follows you around like a shadow. It stands behind you, silently ruining your life while you try in vain to just focus. Just don’t forget. Just stop losing things. Just pay attention. Teachers in school would tell you to stop daydreaming, that if you just listened you could do so much better. Growing up, Your parents treated you like you would never amount to anything. They would push your siblings to do well in school but when it came to you they were silent, unwilling to spend energy on a kid who couldn’t even make it through a family dinner without getting distracted. Everyone around you would laugh at your “quirky” personality. You know that for other people you’re funny, always getting yourself into trouble and making silly mistakes. You don’t think it’s funny though and you never did.  As a kid you would frequently cry yourself to sleep. You found ways to hide your stupidity so that just maybe others might overlook your shadow. You’ve tried so hard to act normal, to make check lists and routines but it never works and you always find yourself once again brought to tears after your inevitable failure.

This is why you took the job at Stark Tower all those years ago. You knew you wouldn’t excel at school  and so you took the first job you could find, cleaning for Stark Industries. It’s something you’re actually good at and the only routine in your life you’ve been able to consistently follow. It makes you move around constantly and there’s always some different puzzle to solve. You love the feeling of finally getting out a tough stain from the carpet or finding the perfect tool to finally get to a hard to reach spot.

Now, after years of hard work and an extensive background check you’ve been promoted to cleaning the Avengers floor. You have a generous salary now, health insurance, your own place with no roommates. Some people may judge what you do but you don’t care anymore. It’s honest work and you love it.

---

You walk into stark tower, showing security your badge before heading to the elevator and riding it up to the Avengers floor. You’ve had this job for a few weeks now but you still feel nervous every day. If you’re honest you’re scared of them, the Avengers, They feel unhinged. It’s nothing they do or say. It’s the general vibe you get when you’re around them, like they’re filled to the brim with unbridled anger that hides underneath a cracking exterior. Any moment they might break completely and whatever trauma they’ve all been through will spill out and consume anyone who dares stand close to them.

You start your day in one of the many bathrooms, scrubbing every surface before taking your cleaning supplies and working your way through the floor. Every day is much of the same, you spend all day cleaning the massive Avengers living area, trying your best to stay out of their lives.

You turn a corner and see Captain America with someone, a new recruit you’ve seen around but haven't met. He has her against the wall, pushing his finger into her pussy. You stand stunned for a second.

“If I don’t take action now I might lose you and I can’t lose you.” Captain America says.

You turn and jump back behind the corner, sliding your back down the wall. You can make out some of their conversation and it sounds dramatic. She’s crying and begging him to walk away. You close your eyes and tell yourself to stay out of it. It’s not your place and if you tried to step in you could lose your job.  

You hear footsteps walking towards you. Captain America stops and flashes a smile while you stand up.

“We appreciate privacy here, you understand the consequences if you tell anyone about anything about our personal lives?”

You do know, they had you sign an agreement that said they’d take everything away from you if you talked about their personal lives in any way to anyone. If you value your livelihood you won’t speak a word about it to anyone.

“I’m sorry sir, I saw you there and didn’t want to interrupt. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, Is… is she ok?”

He crosses his arms and looks you up and down.

“Everything is consensual if that’s what you’re asking, we enjoy a little roleplay sometimes.”

you‘re not totally convinced, something inside you tells you that he’s lying to you. He looks at you so intently and you know, despite his hero status, that he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of you permanently if he had to. you nod your head and give a smile.

“I’m sorry if I insinuated anything sir.”

He checks his watch before quickly walking away. You exhale and pick up your cleaning supplies. As you walk past her room you stop for a second, deciding if you should knock. You back away, not wanting to interfere more than you already have.

“You’re new here.” a voice says as you reach the living room.

“Yes, I just started a few weeks ago.” you reply.

“I’m Bucky.” he walks over to you, looking you up and down.

“I have a lot of work to finish.” you back up a few steps and hold your cleaning tote in front of you. Bucky stuffs his hands in his pockets and smiles.

“I won’t keep you.”

---

Six months later

---

You walk into Tony’s suite and lean down to plug in your vacuum. A pop of red catches your eye and you pull a thong out from under the nightstand. You turn it over in your hands, deciding what to do with it. A hand comes behind you and takes it from you. You look up to see Tony Stark in front of you, stuffing the thong in his pocket.

“Mr. stark.” you gasp.

“From a one night stand.”

“Of course sir, do you want me to wash and return it to your... friend?”

“No.” Tony says quickly. “That will be all in here today.”

“I haven't vacuumed yet, do you want me to come back later?”

“No, just leave.”

You unplug the vacuum and roll it out the door, turning just briefly to close it behind you. As the door closes you see Tony pull the underwear out of his pocket and bring it to his nose.

You try your best over the next week to keep your mind focused on work. Everything starts to get back to normal.

One evening you hear a thud and someone yell out in pain. You run over to see Tony in the hallway standing threateningly over a woman.

“Is everything ok? You ask.

“We’re fine, you can leave for the night.” Tony says, waving you away. You make eye contact with the woman, looking back and forth between her and Tony. She nods and gives you a small, unconvincing smile. You turn around and walk away, wanting nothing more than to get home and take a long shower. Maybe you can forget about what you just saw.

On your way out you run straight into a wall of muscle.

“Hey, what’s the rush sweetheart.” Bucky catches you, holding onto your shoulders.

“I, uh, I’m sorry sir. Nothing, I’m just anxious to get home I guess.”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky.” you say, moving away from him and towards the door.

“Hey, are you ok?” He takes a step towards you, cocking his head and furrowing his brow.

“Yes sir… Bucky.”

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“No, I can’t.” you look into his eyes, silently communicating the reason for your silence.

Bucky runs his hand through his hair and looks down.

“Your socks match.” he looks up and smiles.

“I’m sorry?” you look at your feet.

“You usually wear mismatched ones, it’s cute.”

You know he meant it to be a fun observation, maybe even a weird complement, but it feels pointed. You always lose your socks, it’s just one of the many small things that you should be able to do better but just can’t. You can’t even keep your life together enough to consistently find matching socks. You give a fake smile, used to laughing at yourself when these things are pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.” you laugh.

Bucky takes an almost imperceptible step towards you and you in turn take a very obvious one backwards.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sir.” you say.

“Bucky.”

“Bucky.” you give a tight smile before walking away.

---

Two weeks later

---

Natasha hands you a book.

“Can you wrap this please?”

“Yes ma'am, whose name should I put?”

“Say to my little bookworm, Love Nat.”

You wrap the present lovingly, putting extra care into it. You’ve seen them together, Nat and her girlfriend. Tony and Steve’s wives mostly keep to themselves but Natashas girlfriend is always nice to you, acknowledging you and thanking you when she sees you working. She owns a bookstore that you’ve visited a few times and always remembers you when you walk in.

“I think you forgot a piece of tape.” Bucky whispers in your ear making you jump. He’s started doing this, becoming more comfortable around you, touching you in small ways and getting just a little closer than what’s appropriate. You grab another piece of tape and secure a bit of paper.

“Thank you.” you say as you tie a bow around the gift and write the note. You pause with your pencil trying to remember what Natasha told you to write. You should have written it down when she told you it. You curse under your breath, wishing you had paid better attention when you were given instructions. You remember it was something easy but not exactly what she wanted.

“I have to get this back to Ms. Romanoff.” you push past Bucky.

“Did I do something to make you upset?”

You stop and look at him.

“No sir”

“Bucky”

“I just prefer to remain professional while at work,” you look down.

“What about outside of work?”

“I would rather keep that life separate. I’m sorry, I just really like this job and don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and you half expect him to grab you and push you against the wall like you’ve seen the captain and Tony do to their girlfriends and then wives. You flinch when he takes a step towards you. He reaches out, brushing the back of his hand over your cheek.

“I’m not like the others,” he whispers.

You’re not sure what to say, you just nod and watch as he steps back and walks away.

---

One month later

---

You’re doing dishes, scrubbing hard against burnt on food that was never soaked or even rinsed. One of them had a date the night before, making a complicated meal.

“How long until you get your girl?” Thor says to Sam as they walk into the kitchen.

“Tony’s working on it, probably a few weeks before I can take her home.”

They each grab oranges and head into the next room. their voices get quieter for a few minutes then louder again as they walk back to throw away their orange peels.

“I’m envious, I often fantasize about finding mine, If only I knew where she was.” Thor says.

“You have no idea where she could be?”

“I must confess, friend, I don’t even know what planet she’s on. She’s a slippery little lady.”

You stop washing dishes for a second, mind trying to dissect what you’re overhearing.

“You ok?” Bucky sets a plate next to the sink.

“Yes sir.” you reply, taking the plate and washing it.

You turn off the sink and turn around, seeing multiple dishes you forgot about. You pick them up and bring them to the sink, restarting the cleaning process.

“I think you should take a vacation.”

You look at him and raise your eyebrows.

“You’re a hard worker, and fast too.”

You nod in agreement.

“You’re… unusual to watch though.”

You set the last clean dish in the drying rack and turn your back to Bucky, taking a step away. You put your hand in your pocket to pull out your phone which holds your to do list but it’s not there. You look to your right and left and then turn back toward Bucky. He holds your phone out to you and you grab it and open your list.

“This is the third time today you’ve misplaced your phone.”

“I appreciate your concern, you’re very observant.” you bite your tongue before you say something aggressively inappropriate to your boss.

“Hey, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. You’re very smart and capable, I just noticed it’s been worse lately and think you should take a break.”

You take a deep breath.

“I’m taking next week off.” you say, grabbing a broom and walking out of the kitchen.

“Good.” Bucky yells after you.

---

Three months later.

---

Your phone rings, waking you up from a deep sleep.

“Hello,” you say sleepily.

“Hey, can you come in ASAP?” Tony says from the other end.

You jump out of bed.

“Of course, I’ll be there soon.”

You quickly get dressed and run out of the apartment. You gasp and drop your bag as soon as the elevator door opens. There’s a huge mess covering the entire living room and kitchen. There’s broken glass and furniture everywhere as well as a hole in the wall. It looks as though there was a fight and you wonder what happened. You get to work right away.

Thankfully a few of the Avengers wives come and help you clean up. Natashas wife evidently is back from a long honeymoon and you’re happy to see her. You smile at her and she frowns back at you.

“Are you ok?”

She looks away. “Just tired.”

You watch her give a tiny flinch as Natasha calls her name from the next room. Something is very wrong.

“You got this cleaned up fast.” Bucky says, taking a dustpan away from you and dumping the contents into the trash.

“I had help.” you say, looking over to where Natasha and her wife stand across the room.

You look back at Bucky and give a sweet smile.

“I was wondering if I could leave a little early on friday. There’s a birthday party for my grandmother.”

“I think you’ve earned leaving a little early after today, you’re welcome to get ready for your party here too. You can use the guest room.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Bucky.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Thank you Bucky.”

---

You put on your dress and a full face of makeup, admiring yourself in the mirror before heading out. Bucky stands outside of the guest room door, obviously waiting for you.

“You clean up nice.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky clicks his tongue as he stares at you.

“Did I ever tell you that you remind me of someone I used to know?”

You back away.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I miss her.”

You try your best to take even breaths. The way he looks at you makes you deeply uncomfortable. You feel naked despite your dress being on the conservative side. You make the mistake of looking straight at his crotch, seeing a very visible bulge. You gulp and shift uncomfortably on your feet.

“Have a good time at your party.” Bucky says.

“I will.” you say politely before basically running to the elevator. You get in and realize you forgot your phone. You walk back to the guest room where Bucky waits, holding your phone out for you. You grab it and turn around but bucky catches your arm.

“Focus, do you have everything you need.”

You shift your eyes away and realize you forgot your wallet and keys too.

Bucky grabs your things out of his pocket and hands them to you.  

“Thank you.” you breathe.

Bucky hums and lets you go.

“Be safe,” he yells as you walk back to the elevator, this time taking it down and leaving the tower.

---

Three months later

---

You’re going to quit today. As good as the money is it’s not worth the fear and stress of working there. Not only have you become more and more concerned about the wives of the Avengers but you just can’t take Bucky anymore. You’re scared of him. The way he looks at you makes you feel as though he could decide at any minute to lock you in a room and tear your clothes off. You feel constant stress at work and have developed a tremor. No amount of money is worth this work environment. The lease at your apartment is about to end and you’ll move back with your parents until you find a new job.

You enter the avengers floor and hear yelling.

“Fuck!”

“I thought we were kidnapping women?”

“You weren’t supposed to just snatch one. Now there’s a whole mess to clean up.”

“Thor just took his.”

“He has a point.”

“Thor had that whole betrothal thing.”

“Touche.”

You make eye contact with a scared woman who is sitting on the couch with her hands tied in front of her. She mouths run and you do, running out of the tower and home. You start frantically packing a bag, throwing your phone away since you’re sure they can track it.

“There’s nowhere to hide baby.”

You scream as Bucky pulls you away from your suitcase and throws you on your bed.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” he touches your face, smoothing his finger over your lip.

“We’re married now, Tony already set it up. I’m going to take you on a honeymoon on an island until I can trust you.”

It clicks in your head, the honeymoons. They always come back so quiet and introverted.

“What did they do to those poor girls?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Tears start forming in your eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone, just let me go.”

“This is the only way.”

Bucky’s hand travels down your body, grabbing your waistband and pulling your pants off. He puts his hand in between your legs and you squirm away, clenching your legs tight.

“Please baby, I don't want to hurt you but I will if i have to. Now open up”

You shake your head, tears now spilling down your cheeks. He slaps you hard and you clutch your throbbing face, crying out and pushing your body against the headboard. You slowly and shakilly open your legs for him, closing your eyes as he dips a metal finger in your pussy.

“I’m not like the others.”

He thrusts his finger in and out.

“They took those women out of greed. They feel like they deserve love after everything they’ve given up... we’ve given up.”

He reaches his other hand up, still fucking you gently with a metal finger, and grabs your chin, shaking your head gently until you look at him.

“I just want you to be safe and happy.”

Bucky pulls his finger out. He grabs his cock, stroking it as he looks at your naked lower half. You try to close your legs but he grabs them, pulling them open. He kisses your mound gently and you arch your back involuntarily, pushing your pussy into his face. He grabs your legs and holds you against his mouth, suddenly sucking and licking until you’re coming undone. The pleasure washes over you and you relax for a second before your mind is brought back to reality. Your legs shake as He pulls back and smiles at you, climbing over you and pushing his impressive dick in. He kisses you as he thrusts into you, grabbing your shoulders and squeezing them as he comes.

“I’m going to be good for you, this will be good.” he whispers, holding you as you cry in his arms.

---

You’re forgetful. You don’t focus, don’t pay attention. It was right in front of your face and you still missed it. You always miss it. You’ve always been someone who gets themselves into trouble, always making silly mistakes and having to pay for them.

Your shadow did it again, silently destroyed everything around you while you ignorantly looked the wrong way. If you could just pay attention.

If you could just focus.

But you can’t.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Trouble ~ J.V.

A/n: I see my Jerome peeps are HERE and I’m LOVING IT! Prompt list here so y’all don’t have to scroll ;) Feel free to request as many as you want for commission or when requests are open again. I LOVE using prompts!!

Request: “...6, 8 with Jerome Valeska” by anon

6: “You are actually Satan, oh my god.”

8: “Wow, I am so in love with you… just wow.”

MASTERLIST

You know how you see someone, and it’s so obvious where they’ll end up that it’s like a scene in your head? It’s never good when this happens, so usually it’s a sad story and you kind of just frown and shake your head and pity the person, but you know that saying anything won’t do you any good so you just sit back and keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable end.

That’s how everyone saw Jerome Valeska.

People had never cared about Jerome, though. If they ever had, it was wiped away pretty quickly. Brutally murdering people with no care for who was on what side, who had helped or hurt, or without even a little remorse or pity or hesitation or regret... it was one of those things that most people found to be a bit of a turn off. Those who didn’t were seen to be just as unhinged as Jerome was, so they were dismissed as well.

The thing was, people HAD cared about Y/n. She was one of the most intellectually promising in her entire high school, maybe in all of Gotham. She was the kind of teenager that seemed so very adult. She was respectful and poised and very well controlled. She was pleasant to be around, and even much older people didn’t mind talking to her if they happened to be in the same place. She’d even made some pleasant relationships.

Like the friendship she had with Bruce Wayne.

Through him, she had come to learn about and meet and even get along with everyone Bruce knew. She could get along with anybody she wanted to, without threats or intimidation or groveling. She simply existed, and she had a sort of comforting, approachable presence about her. She wasn’t the least bit threatening, but she was... nice, I guess. Even dangerous people liked her, because she was the only person who didn’t seem to care about power or advantageous interactions or anything like that.

She was just nice to talk to.

This showed most prominently when she talked to people like Edward Nigma, or Oswald Cobblepott, or Silena Kyle. She’d even found herself in situations to talk to Barbara Gordan. Victor Zsasz.

People usually chalked it up to her being quite unlucky.

Because she was so unsuspecting and unproblematic and calm, she turned out to be a really good hostage. She didn’t talk back or lash out, she just sat and behaved and looked at you with a very calm, calculated expression.

Zsasz had run into her when he’d worked for Penguin and had been guarding her so that Oswald could make a deal without worrying about his bargaining chip being compromised. After a while, Y/n had asked how Zsasz’s day was going. They’d had a short, pleasant conversation, leaving the assassin intrigued by the girl when she’d been let go.

Barbara had a similar experience, except it had been when she was in Arkham of all places. Everyone had a weird thing, and very few if any people knew Y/n’s, but even she had one too. Her weird thing was visiting Arkham Asylum every once in a while visiting random people inside it, and then talking to them with the most easy normality. Like they’d been life long friends, or the person she was talking to was completely sane. She never judged or snapped, she just had a neutral expression with a sort of interest in her eyes. She was polite enough that Barbara had entertained the visit, and found herself not totally regretting it afterward.

Oswald had met her when he was mayor. She had dropped by as an errand for Jim Gordon, and had started a casual conversation when Oswald had expected her to leave when thing were handled. At first he’d been suspicious, and he still was if he was honest, but she hadn’t asked any prying questions or tried to get at him from any angle. If he drew a line, she respected it immediately and moved onto something else without missing a beat. When he got uncomfortable, she apologized and wished him a good day before excusing herself. After she’d show up several more times, sometimes sent by Jim, sometimes just to say hello, Oswald eventually relaxed. He didn’t trust her, and she didn’t expect him to, but when she stopped by to say hello he’d have someone bring them tea and they’d have a little chat. He was a little surprised when she didn’t visit him in Arkham, but when they ran into each other a little later, she nodded to him with a little smile and he got the impression she wasn’t angry with him.

As time passed, more and more people who were considered to be Gotham’s worst were coming up with more and more stories of Y/n. The girl who didn’t scream when she walked into a store and saw a dead body, but who’s neutrality wasn’t unsettling as much as it was kind of calming. She had all the makings of a twisted, demented villain, and yet she was the most normal person ever. It was confusing and intriguing, but never distinctly a bad thing. She was well known, and no one had anything bad to say about her. 

It was only a matter of time before Jerome found her.

Not long after he did, he was as taken with her as everyone else. She wasn’t annoying, or unnerved by him. She was in fact endlessly interesting. He thought eventually he would get bored of her complete lack of response to even the most terrible things he told her in an effort to get her going, but found instead that the sort of sparks of interest in her gaze and the small smile that sometimes almost touched her lips was enough to keep him engaged.

She was the exact opposite of him, but in a way that didn’t drive him to want her to be gone. He didn’t WANT to kill her. It was weird, and he was living for it.

Slowly, Y/n stopped showing up in public. She stopped visiting Arkham, and the police department. She stopped running into dangerous people who never seemed to mind seeing her around, even if they weren’t supposed to be seen by anyone. She graduated high school but never talked about college. She just... slowly started to disappear.

It wasn’t as suspicious as it was disappointing. No one could tell where she was going or why all the accidental bump ins were being so carefully removed, but it was leaving the idea in everyone’s head that they might not have been accidents to begin with. Not most of them at least. That was the only thing that it could be, after years and years of her being so very unlucky, only for her to quite suddenly not run into a single soul ever. Even when people sought her out, they couldn’t find her unless she wanted to be found.

She appeared rather suddenly at Jerome’s side one day out of the blue.

No one noticed her behind the line of people in chairs. They were distracted by Jerome talking about his terribly sad past, and the people with explosive collars locked around their necks. Most importantly noted: Bruce Wayne and Jerome’s twin brother, Jeremiah.

It wasn’t until Jerome drew attention to her that anyone even registered her at all. She was so still and quiet that behind all the chaos, she might as well have been invisible.

Jerome was only too enthused to rub it in everyone’s faces.

“You know you don’t like me, and that’s fair. I’m not like any of you, am I? I don’t smile right, and I act weird. Then there’s the whole killing people thing.” He giggled, but the crowd in front of him only looked disgusted. “But is that why you really hate me, Gotham? Because I’m a big ol mean bad guy? Do you hate me because I’m a little unhinged? Because I’m a little loud and hysterical and I scare you? Or do I scare you because I have no problem being very honest and very open with all of the things you people LOVE to push under the rug and hide away and pretend no one can see.” He shook his head. “Because I’ve come to realize there is someone who’s exactly like me, but so much better at playing all of you. So much better at playing innocent and harmless and friendly, and with no real intentions other than to prove how easy you all are. How transparent.” His eyes drifted toward Y/n, and he motioned her forward. Without hesitating, she did take a few steps forward, into the light and right behind Bruce Wayne.

Gasps echoed in the crowd. To everyone’s stunned silence, Y/n stood there with the same calm and reservation she always did. She seemed perfectly unbothered by the dead body inches from her, or the people she had always seemed so close to being in danger. She didn’t look around, trying to gauge a way out, and nothing held her in forced obedience. She just looked at Jerome, that same nice, almost-smile and curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“What-” Bruce looked around, mouth dropping open when he saw who was behind him. “Y/n?”

“Ah yes,” Jerome purred. “Gotham’s little angel. Friend to all. Unassuming and nice and calm and wonderful. Aren’t you just a pillar of perfection, Y/n?” He giggled again, and Y/n tilted her head, her smile growing a little,

For the first time ever, Y/n was unnerving. Seeing her of all people look dangerous was so upsetting that the crowd started to step down from their anger towards Jerome and were edging toward true fear. If she could end up being bad, who else could? If even the bets of them could be corrupted, and even the most deranged mind could act completely normal, how could anyone ever tell when people were dangerous anymore?

It could be anyone. Anyone they trusted. Anyone they knew. Anyone they’d talked to long enough to decide they were safe. Because Bruce Wayne had known Y/n best of anyone in Gotham, and even he looked as stunned as everyone felt. He had spent copious amounts of time with her, including for hours straight during school hours, and even he had not on any level or in any way seen anything like this coming.

“Y/n?” Bruce whispered.

Y/n met his gaze. “Yes?”

He wasn’t sure what to ask her. “What’s going on?” is what he settled on.

She shrugged, as if they were catching up after school. During tea time maybe, after having not seen each other recently. “Nothing much. I’m observing and learning. People are so intriguing Bruce, have you ever noticed? I’ve learned so much. All I ever had to do was be polite, and everyone would let me sit there as long as I wanted and observe them. You learn so much by watching people, but even more from talking to them. And they always let me. All I had to do was let them talk. I never lied. I never pushed. I was respectful and curious, and they responded so well. I’ve come to learn that even the most suspicious people feel the loneliness of humanity. They crave to be wanted. To looked at. All I had to do was show interest, and they thrived under that attention. You really have to do so little for people to like you. It’s so interesting.”

Bruce’s eyes had been widening as she spoke. She said it all like she was observing humanity in a way that she wasn’t apart of it. “You’re like us, aren’t you?”

“Oh of course,” she agreed. “That’s the thing. I wanted to understand myself, so I looked at those like me. And those unlike me. To see what was and wasn’t me. To see what was similar and what was so very completely different.” She chuckled softly and Bruce felt sick to his stomach. “I never expected to find someone so very similar to me to be someone seen the eyes of everyone else as exactly opposite. Jerome and I? Very much the same, except I’d rather learn than act. I never really cared about people’s opinions or if they didn’t like me or if they were mean. I was too unassuming for bullying or abuse. I didn’t care if people looked over me like Jerome does, and that’s really the only difference. I just wanted to learn, and people were always willing to let me.” She shrugged. “But people are so simple. So easy to understand. MUCH more straight forward than any of them would like to admit. I think I’m going to be staying with Jerome from now on. He’s interesting. He understands.”

Jeremiah knew who she was only by association, and even he was surprised, despite having known Jerome very close up for so long. He supposed it wasn’t fault, but watching Bruce, he wondered if he’d even been able to tell her true nature. Even now she looked completely normal and safe. Her eyes were full of life, and she was fairly attractive. The way she stood was relaxed and the way she talked was completely normal. What was upsetting about her was not that she was obviously messed up. It was that she was so painfully normal in even a situation that should have been quite upsetting.

“You’re a sociopath,” Jeremiah offered in a sort of leveled voice. Her eyes turned to him and he realized that her calmness was contagious. She had the look of someone you could just... fall into. So easy to trust. Even now he found himself a little lured by her. She was honest about who she was. She didn’t hide anything. She was just quiet, and people forgot to ask. That wasn’t her fault. Maybe she could still be saved from his deranged brother.

“Yes,” Y/n agreed, and her complete acceptance of that didn’t sit well with Jeremiah. “Would you like me to show you? I have come to learn that everyone wants some sort of proof of it. They have a hard time believing me.”

“No that’s okay,” Jeremiah rushed to reassure just as Jerome squealed, “Yes please!”

Between the two opposite reactions from the two very opposite twins, Bruce got the idea of what her kind of proof might mean. “Don’t worry Y/n, we believe you.”

She nodded, and the two boys thought that’d be the end of it. But then she pulled an actual gun out of seemingly nowhere, pointed it at the crowd, and shot without even hesitating. There went up a scream as people scattered, revealing the body of a woman bleeding out on the ground. The bullet had hit someone around her neck and no one could do anything other than give her and themselves plenty of room away from her.

Jerome squealed with excitement.

Bruce looked at Y/n with horror. “I said we believed you! You didn’t have to kill her!”

“But I did,” Y/n decided. “Because they didn’t believe me.” Her lips turned up into a stronger smile. There was no regret or hesitation in her eyes, and Bruce felt dread slowly settle throughout his body. She WAS exactly like Jerome and the only reason this was her first kill is because she’d decided to wait until now to kill someone. They’d all been at her mercy this entire time, like a mouse held down by a mouse trap. Except they’d been perfectly fine just sitting in her trap and letting her watch with mild interest as they died.

She was just like Jerome.

One of the other people in line spat, “You’re actually Satan, oh my god.” His eyes were wide and Bruce got the idea that if he hadn’t been held by the explosive collar, he might have bolted. “You let all of us trust you and welcome you and be around you. You gained our trust, and you don’t even care about us?”

Very calmly, Y/n simply shook her head. “We’re all just meat. Do you care about the animals scientists test on to give you your makeup products and medicine? Do you care about the pig killed for its meat, or the dogs that rip each other apart in the streets for entertainment and money? We’re just animals. You guys have just gotten the idea stuck in your head for some reason that we’re special animals. You won’t admit those animals will eat you just as quickly as you will them. Pigs have high intelligence. You think you’re gods because you have the highest intelligence and then ignore how you so easily ignore what you know and do what you want instead. You give into nature just like any predator. I have simply stopped being either. I’m not villain. I’m not a hero. And you think the people who watch the villain are a different category, but they’re not. They do nothing, and bad thing happen, and that’s it. A woman died, and people didn’t do anything to stop it. There’s a whole crowd of people not held here by anything other than a secret, sick fascination with the terrible things happening here. You are just as bad as Jerome. Just as bad as me. You just refuse to admit it. I don’t. That’s all.”

Grinning, Jerome sat forward in his chair. “Wow I am so in love with you.” He giggled and everyone in the area cringed. The idea of Jerome Valeska being involved like that with Y/n... And the way she seemed to not mind it either. On top of everything else that had happened here, it was so viscerally upsetting. Jerome stood, moving behind the people in chairs to gently grab Y/n’s face, pulling her lips against his. When he pulled away, everyone’s face had gone scaringly pale. “Just, wow,” the red head whispered. 

Y/n seemed to consider that. “You know, I think I have some sort of care for you. Like... like how someone explained a pet to me. Is that how affection feels?” She still looked only curious. It made sense that in a world who didn’t care to learn about people like her, and after a lifetime of holding back her questions and lack of understanding, even after all this time she still would be confused about the different way she experienced relationships with other people.

Jerome shrugged. “I think not, but I can be your pet if you want.”

Y/n smiled. “I think I do want that.”

A victorious smile adorned Jerome’s face. “That’s all I needed!” He turned to face his brother and Bruce Wayne again. “See, I was so stuck on you two. I died wanting to kill Brucie, and I’ve lived my entire life wanting to kill my dear brother, so I lived for nothing else. I thought of nothing else. I existed to end you two. But now, I have a different purpose. There is nothing like looking at someone you find so very interesting and them returning that back to you.” He giggled. “Mom always said I’d never find love. Aren’t you proud of me for proving her wrong?”

“This isn’t love,” Bruce snapped. “It’s demented. You can’t feel love. Neither of you can.”

“Maybe not,” Y/n agreed. “But it will be fun testing that.” She turned and walked off the stage, heading back and disappearing.

Jerome sighed. “And that’s my cue.” There was a gun shot and a sharp pain in his hand as the detonator fell out of his hands. He could no longer explode the necklaces. He made an ‘oopsie’ sort of expression before ducking away as another gunshot run out. “See you around, you two!” His laughter echoed as he disappeared after Y/n, fading away too quickly.

By the time Jim Gordon chased after Jerome, it was far passed too late. Whatever Y/n had done to ensure their escape, it had left no traces. They were gone.

Behind them, they left death and the lingering feeling in the air like this was only the beginning to a very, very terrible love story.

[lovejustforaday]

Sonic Youth Albums Ranked (Part 3)

6. Sister (1987)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock

This is the first LP in the Sonic Youth discography accessible enough to be labelled a true ‘Alternative Rock’ record. It’s still rough around the edges, but Sister is full of catchy hooks and thrilling guitar sounds. I feel like this record and Daydream Nation probably went on to spawn at least 200 new alternative rock bands by the time the 90s came around (not that I was there to see it or anything, just speculation).

Sister deserves a lot of credit for solidifying on tracks like “Catholic Block” and “Stereo Sanctity” what would become the dominant formula for the band’s sound throughout most of the rest of their discography. I think that's part of the reason why this is Sonic Youth’s second most acclaimed and beloved record. Perhaps some fans would even be downright offended that I only put this at #6 on the list, but trust me when I say that this is only because the band has made so many fantastic records. In fact, for most bands, this would easily be their greatest record.

I can still remember the first time I heard the opening to “Schizophrenia”, I had never heard anything quite like it. The guitars sound upbeat yet worn out and dejected, making me feel isolated and almost spiritually weak when I listen to this track, yet somehow also comforted. The song is partially inspired by Kim’s older brother who has schizophrenia, though the roles are reversed in this song with a brother whose sister is schizophrenic. It’s a deeply fascinating and memorable piece, and I can see why many fans consider this to be a top five Sonic Youth track.

Most of the rest of Sister is very scratchy and punkish with some very tight guitar work, like “Catholic Block” which boasts one of my favourite melodic riffs in the Sonic Youth canon. There’s also “Hot Wire My Heart”, another major highlight and a cover of the obscure British punk band Crime, where Sonic Youth takes their song and upgrades the guitars and drums while also adding a bold wall of feedback at the end.

Then there’s “Pacific Coast Highway”, a completely sickening song and one of Kim’s very finest moments as a lyricist and vocalist. This haunting noise rock jumble tells the story of either a unhinged stranger, or perhaps a resentful ex-lover, who is obsessively catcalling the listener from their car, with the not-so-subtle implication that you’re all by yourself somewhere and that this person intends to harm you. I have no idea if this was written about a personal experience, but I do know from listening to their voices that this is something many women have either gone through or live in perpetual fear of. Seriously fucked up stuff, but also one of Sonic Youth’s very best tracks.

"Cotton Crown” is an odd one out in the Sonic Youth discography; an uncharacteristically sincere but still off-kilter love song that Kim and Thurston sing as a duet. Their voices are a bit out of tune with each other, but i think that honestly fits the Sonic Youth aesthetic and it’s sweet in its own quirky way, although very bittersweet decades later with hindsight about the fate of their relationship. Sort of a noise rock lullaby almost, maybe even with hints of early shoegaze.

Sister does a really good job of taking the seemingly juxtaposing ideas of the ‘fun’ and the ‘grotesque’ and fuses them together. This album is both largely exciting and still somehow alienating and depressive. It’s textbook Sonic Youth, really. I will say that the best tracks are clustered together with a noticeably weaker middle portion, but really this is still a consistently great record throughout. Altogether, Sister is one of the many entries in the band’s discography from 1986 through 1990 where Sonic Youth could basically do no wrong. A classic record.

9/10

highlights: “Pacific Coast Highway”, “Schizophrenia”, ‘Catholic Block”, “Cotton Crown”, “Hot Wire My Heart”, “Beauty Lies in the Eye”

5. A Thousand Leaves (1998)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock

A decent sampling of: Alternative Rock, Post-Rock, Neo-Psychedelia

I’m just gonna say this now: A Thousand Leaves is by far Sonic Youth’s most underrated record. It’s also the last truly amazing record that the band ever put out. Maybe it’s just the bizarre choice of an album cover that turns people off of this LP. Really, what the hell were they going for here with the minimalist hamster vibes? The beautiful title really suggests something a lot more visually stunning.

In all seriousness though, I feel like nobody talks about this one because it’s overshadowed by its predecessor Washing Machine, but if there’s one area that this record exceeds above all other Sonic Youth LPs, it’s that it perfectly captures that mellow feeling that the later Sonic Youth albums were inclined towards. Not a lot of Sonic Youth records put me at ease like this one does.

Likewise, this is maybe the most ‘feel-good’ record in their discography along with Murray Street. But where Muray Street is something you could put on in the background and enjoy pretty modestly, A Thousand Leaves is a largely experimental, out-of-body experience that pulls you into its surreal, flowery, evergreen world.

“Contre Le Sexism” is a perfect opener for this kind of record; this quiet daze of a waking dream is both dainty and delirious, alluding to Alice in Wonderland with Kim’s vocals never before sounding so gentle and bright. I swear I start to hear a door creak at the end. Maybe that’s the sound of stepping out into the rest of A Thousand Leaves.

What follows immediately after is “Sunday” which is actually one of the band’s poppiest moments, making it somewhat of an outlier on this highly avant-garde and immersive record. But the warm spring vibes of the melody fits right in. The wall of sound introduced during the bridge is a soft mesmerizing bliss more akin to a band like My Bloody Valentine, if not for the tiny distant screeches of atonality whirling around here and there. As a big fan of both bands, I’m all for this kind of sound.

“Wildflower Soul” is easily one of the best things Sonic Youth has ever written. Endless amounts of creativity are poured into this nine minute noise rock acrobatics performance along with a lyrical ode to love, nature, and childhood. The vibes of this one are really quite jaw-dropping given the fact that these are the same guys who wrote “Schizophrenia” and ��Death Valley ‘69″. There’s such unison and harmony in the band’s performance here as they switch between different bpm and even time signatures, and the usage of the heavy phaser effect towards the end sounds nothing short of godlike. "Wildflower Soul” almost feels like an entire album experience in one song, and I’m beyond impressed every time I listen to it.

This makes for a hard act to follow, but A Thousand Leaves still has plenty of other highlights. “French Tickler” is a strange and satisfying track that switches back and forth between a playful melody and churning, stretchy distortion. “Karen Koltrane” is a murky but textured portrait of Lee Renaldo’s ex-girlfriend, who got addicted to hallucinogens and became heavily withdrawn from the rest of the world. “Snare, Girl” is a soothing spell where Thurston sounds like he’s trying to coax the listener into a never-ending slumber.

My only real complaint here is “Hits of Sunshine (For Allen Ginsberg)”, a lackadaisical jam session that sounds cool enough, but really overstays its welcome given the lack of development it achieves over its eleven minute run time. It’s a nice piece to vibe to, but it very noticeably disrupts the album’s flow. Take this one track away entirely, or even just edit it down severely, and this would probably be a 10/10 record for me.

Still, wow what a cool album. A Thousand Leaves is a great example of why I respect this band so much. Even this late into their career, Sonic Youth were willing to try so many new bizarre things while also building judiciously upon the foundations of their past work with great attention to detail. I wouldn’t recommend most people start with this one, it’s definitely a bit more challenging especially if you haven’t listened to some other really weird experimental rock records. But once you’re in the right headspace for it, it’s easy to get almost completely lost in A Thousand Leaves.

9/10

highlights: “Wildflower Soul”, “Sunday”, “French Tickler”, “Karen Koltrane”, “Snare, Girl”, “Contre Le Sexism”, “Heather Angel”

4. Goo (1990)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

Goo was my very first Sonic Youth album, and I can definitely still feel some of the old teenage angst that I had at the time whenever I listen to this one. What probably adds to that feeling is the fact that this along with Daydream Nation is one of the two albums in the band’s discography that I’d say possesses a great deal of immediacy. Albums like Sister and A Thousand Leaves are a bit more subtle and they take a while to be fully digested. But this one, this one hit me like a brick wall.

Between “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Kool Thing”, and “Cinderella’s Big Score”, Goo is above all others the Sonic Youth record where Kim Gordon is really the star of the band, featuring not one but three of her most captivating songs. Likewise, I would also say that this is Sonic Youth’s most overtly feminist and socially conscious record.

I don’t know if anybody else feels this way, but to me the opener “Dirty Boots” really does sound like “Teen Age Riot” part 2. That’s not a bad thing of course, Sonic Youth making more songs like “Teen Age Riot” could never be a bad thing, and “Dirty Boots” is definitely one of the highlights of Goo with its massive build up of kinetic energy. That being said, I do have to say that I don’t think any song could do this particular kind of album opener better than “Teen Age Riot” already does it, but I still really do enjoy “Dirty Boots”.

“Tunic (Song For Karen)” is one of Sonic Youth’s most poetic and poignant songs. Kim’s sing-talking voice is even more solemn than usual as she takes on a surreal retelling of the final days of drummer/pop star pioneer Karen Carpenter from her perspective, highlighting the severity of her loneliness and the criminal negligence of many of the people around her who let her succumb to her eating disorder. Set to a backdrop of stark and droning alternative rock, I would say that this is possibly the band’s most depressing moment and certainly one of the biggest statements that they ever made.

A lot of the rest of Goo is actually pretty fun though. “Kool Thing” features Chuck D on guest vocals, and its a funny sarcastic take down of the subjugation of women’s voices in supposedly liberated spaces like the world of rock and hip hop, inspired by the time Kim interviewed L.L. Cool J and attempted to have a political conversation. The song mocks L.L.’s attitude towards women while also poking fun at Kim’s own self-perceived elitism. There’s also “Mote”, a sensational head rush that dissolves into noise rock weird-isms, sorta recreating the feeling of going from buzzed to totally black out.

“Mildred Pierce” is almost a practical joke but I kind of love the hell out of it anyway. A short track with lyrics consisting only of the song’s title, it starts with the band getting into a nice little riff before (without warning) bursting into a hardcore punk cacophony as Thurston screams the name over and over into the listener’s ears. Made me jump the first time I heard it.

And then there’s “Cinderella’s Big Score”. If “Schizophrenia” vaguely hinted at Kim’s estranged relationship with her older brother, then “Cinderella’s Big Score” confronts it dead on. Featuring some of the band’s most totally insane and disfigured guitar work ever, this song sounds harsh and militant, like the dawn of a nuclear cataclysm. It’s very hard to believe that Kim is 37 years old here; she reverts to sounding exactly like a hurt teenage little sister, rebelling against her childhood trauma and lashing out at her brother’s past bullying and now his cold indifference towards her.

The song grapples with some very painful emotions, but the experience is raw and cathartic. “Cinderella’s Big Score” is definitely somewhere in Sonic Youth’s top 10 tracks for me; it just doesn’t get any realer than this. Honestly, the record could’ve ended here. I like “Titanium Expose” enough as a closer, but this would’ve made a really powerful and lasting impression to end the album.

Despite that, Goo is an excellent Sonic Youth record that demonstrates just how much the band had mastered their craft after a decade of making all sorts of noises. Obviously I’m biased since it was my own first Sonic Youth record, but I really do feel like this is the very best place to start with the band. Goo is one of their more melodic and accessible offerings, but it’s also one of their most provocative records and it really captures the essence of Sonic Youth’s identity.

9/10

highlights: “Cinderella’s Big Score”, “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Mote”, “Kool Thing”, “Dirty Boots”, ‘Mildred Pierce”

3. EVOL (1986)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: No Wave, Alternative Rock

If Bad Moon Rising was bleak and desolate, than EVOL is disturbed, uncanny, and deeply paranoid. Sonic Youth’s third record evokes the feeling of being all alone at midnight on a sketchy highway, complete with mental images of flickering street lights and looming shadowy figures. I mentioned earlier that I have to be in the right mood to enjoy Bad Moon Rising, but this record puts me in the right mood almost instantly whenever I put it on.

EVOL isn’t exactly a no wave album like their first two records. The highly experimental influence is still there, but the arrangements are starting to sound fuller and more intentional.

You could say that this LP marks somewhat of a transitional phase between Sonic Youth the no wave band and Sonic Youth the alternative rock band, and in many respects it has the best of both worlds. There’s a few catchy darker alternative rock songs here and there, sandwiched between tracks that could best be described as ‘mad scientist’ music, which altogether creates a varied and unique album experience.

“Tom Violence“ immediately establishes the tone of EVOL with crooked, scraping flashes of post-punk guitars. This track reminds me of heads hung low, bodies slouched uncomfortably, and the feeling of being completely wide awake at 2:00 am. There’s something very unfriendly that lurks beneath the dissonance of these sounds.

If “Tom Violence” is uneasy, then “Shadow of A Doubt” is an auditory nightmare, managing to capture something akin to the fear of being watched by an unknown stranger hiding in the shadows. Notes are gently plucked like icy cold fingers slowly crawling up the listener’s back while Kim whispers about murder plots and oneirophrenia. The “just a dream” lyrical motif is first uttered reassuringly, but eventually turns into a desperate plea as Kim begins to shout frantically and the music intensifies.

The album dials down the spook factor a few notches with “Starpower” and “In The Kingdom #19″. The former is an early example of Sonic Youth’s ability to combine melodic hooks with meandering chaos that would become refined on the next few LPs, while the latter features Lee’s first solo vocals (and one of his best performances) reciting a lucid, jet black vision of a car accident. Thurston threw firecrackers into the recording studio when they did Lee’s vocals on this track and you can hear it in the recording, and just like “Mildred Pierce” it really caught me off guard the first time I heard it.

“Secret Girl” is the scariest fucking thing in the whole Sonic Youth discography, and also just one of the scariest songs I’ve ever heard. It starts with a deep shuddering thud that sounds like it’s getting closer and closer. Then out of nowhere, a cassette-recording of an old detuned piano starts to play a simple, unnerving refrain while Kim offers a cryptic and uncomfortably suggestive spoken word piece. It feels like a scene that might play out in a horror film, where a television screen comes on by itself and the person on the screen begins to talk directly to the viewer.

Finally, there’s “Expressway To Yr Skull” (alternatively titled “Madonna, Sean, and Me”), which would be my #1 Sonic Youth album closer if not for the #1 album on this list. That being said, this song is still one of the biggest highlights of the band’s career. "Expressway To Yr Skull” starts off restless and spectacular, leading up to an utterly earth-shaking climax, and then it’s as if the song promptly dies, only to become a lingering undead entity that pulls you down with it. I still can’t get over how the ending really manages to sound like it’s dragging you down further and further into its barren depths.

To add to that, there’s actually a locked groove on the original vinyl release of this LP that plays the last little bit of “Expressway To Yr Skull”, meaning that if you let the needle sit there, it will forever loop that last little bit of droning at the end of the track. I really appreciate this little detail; it’s as if the pervasive darkness of EVOL is so encompassing that it could turn into a deep midnight that never ends.

EVOL is honestly so close to being a 10 for me, but just like Sister I find that it is decently weaker towards the middle. Still, I’m absolutely enamored with the atmosphere on this album. No gothic rock record has ever managed to sound so deeply unsettling to my ears like this little experimental record does. You really just have to experience this one for yourself. Honestly, don’t be surprised if in a year or two I’ve changed my mind and bumped this one to a 10.

9/10

highlights: “Expressway To Yr Skull”, “Shadow Of A Doubt”, “Tom Violence”, “Secret Girl”, “In The Kingdom #19″, “Starpower”

[jadoue1999]

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll make sure of it) Chapter 5

Summary: Wanda fixed the slip up, her husband was safe and her brother was at her side. Everything was good, but using that much magic has to come at a price.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, epilogue

Chapter 5: Consequences

Wanda woke up with the worst headache of her life. And being a former Avenger, that was saying something. The consequences of her actions in both the barrier and her brother definitely took a toll on her. Were magical hangovers somehow worse than normal ones? A wave of pain coursed through her head.

Yes, they were.

She covered her face with the covers, the darkness doing little to lessen the pain. She heard her children running up the stairs, barging into her room complaining about their game. Wanda barely heard them, she just needed a moment to collect herself, to keep her many regrets out of her mind. After getting no response, the boys asked each other if she was awake, to which she assured them that she was simply resting her eyes.

The sound of a door opening in the hallway distracted the twins. They looked at their uncle in stunned silence as Wanda removed the cover from her eyes. She shared a look with her brother silently pleading him to give her some alone time. A quick nod confirmed his understanding.

“Alright boys, time to go downstairs, let’s give your mom some space. She needs it.” Pietro said as he led the twin downstairs, Wanda could vaguely hear Billy saying something about his head being noisy. Pietro shrugged his comment aside, challenging them to a video game fight instead. The hurried footsteps and the giggles that followed confirmed their agreements with their uncle’s proposition. Finally finding the strength, she pulled off her bedcover, only to realize that she hadn’t even changed out of her costume before falling asleep.

She put her hands on her face in exasperation, trying to get a hold of herself. The extensive use of her magic and guilt over what she had done was catching up to her. She mentally braced herself as she slowly sat on her bed, ignoring the dizziness and nausea that suddenly hit.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine

She changed out of her clothes, not even attempting any magic in fear of aggravating her situation. Wanda looked through her closet, not really caring about what to wear. She settled on sweatpants and a dressing gown. After hastily tying her hair in a low ponytail, she went downstairs, her stomach letting her know it was time to eat. She was barely aware of the concerned looks her sons and brother were giving her, all she wanted was a bowl of cereal and for her headache to go away. She took her milk carton and went to get the cereal box, she paused in confusion as she noticed the carton had changed. That’s not right, why did it change? Expanding the barrier couldn’t have drained her that much, could it?

She smelled the content on her spoon, hopefully it wouldn’t change by the time it reached her mouth. She reached for the carton but accidentally knocked it off counter. Thankfully, no mess ever reached the floor, Pietro sped over and grabbed the milk and quickly put it in the fridge. As he closed the door, he looked at her sister with worry in his eyes.

“You okay, sis?”

“Yeah, just, rough morning,” reassured Wanda.

Pietro looked at her, unconvinced, but let the subject drop. He sat on the couch, suddenly interested in the twins’ game. He started telling them tips at superspeed, which only Tommy could follow, as Billy tried his best to make it without them. After a rather short game, Tommy won, and the boys went silent as they watched Wanda walk over. She could feel Billy’s question before it even reached his lips. “Mom, where’s dad?”

Even though she saw it coming, she didn’t really know how to answer. Wanda didn’t want to worry her children, but it was certain they had noticed how tense they had been with each other in the last few days.

“I- uh,” she started, hoping a sentence would string itself by the time she was done. When none came, she simply sighed and sat down next to her twin. “I don’t know,” she confessed. She had meant to stop there, but the worried look of her kids pushed her for an explanation. “Look, here’s the thing boys, I’m your mom and you expect me to have all the answers, right?” Alright, good start. Keep going, just tell them you don’t have the answers, no need to get complicated. Their worried head nods made her continue. “Well, I don’t!” She let out a laugh, earning her a weirded-out glance from her brother. “I have... no answers!” She could feel all three boys wanting to interrupt, but she wasn’t finished. She couldn’t stop rambling; it was like her mouth was being possessed. “Zero, zip, zilch, nada, niente.” Way to reassure them, now even Pietro is worried. She stopped herself, realizing how unhinged she sounded. “You see, since your dad and I... don’t get along as well, for now. I’m starting to think that everything is... meaningless. Nothing truly matters because at the end of the day, it’s all just a big pretend... you know?”

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Wanda kept mentally smacking herself for worrying her boys so much, that’s not what they needed at all. They looked at her with fear and concern in their eyes, their mouth slightly agape in shock. Thankfully, her brother intervened.

“Woah, a little dark there, sis?” Pietro turned to his nephews. “I’m sure your dad’s fine, he probably even went to get you boys an apology gift for missing the night yesterday!” The twins looked at each other in excitement as the promised gift was mentioned. Seeing how they were getting better, Pietro continued, “speaking of last night, how about we see what kind of treasure you kids got, uh?

Without letting them finish, he sped upstairs. Tommy and Billy shared a panicked glance at the possibility of their candies being stolen and were about to join him, but a knock at the door stopped them. With a snap of Wanda’s finger, the door opened, letting Agnes in.

“Hi, Agnes!” She greeted her, not even turning around to look at her. “I’d get up, but I just don’t want to!”

Her neighbor paused as she took in Wanda’s state, clearly wondering what to do. She looked at the twins, silently asking how long she had been like that. When they simply shrugged, she gave a concerned smile to Wanda, looking around for something to say. The redhead couldn’t understand all the fuss, she just needed a day off, why were they all worried?

‘You’ve never given up before,’ interrupted her mind. She mentally smacked that thought away. Sure, she had always pursued, but she had never fixed her world before. It took a lot of concentration, of course she needed a day to recharge.

‘Putting your alternate universe twin back under mind control certainly didn’t help.’

She ignored that remark, Vision wasn’t there, apparently having had his fill of her magic, couldn’t she at least have him?

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t stop me, especially with such an amazing- “Pietro stopped in his track as he spotted the newcomer. He froze in place, probably wondering what to do now that she saw him appear, seemingly out of nowhere. Agnes seemed shocked too, but her surprise was short lived as she eyed him with a grin. “Well, hello! I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she held out a hand, “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right, my right not yours!”

Pietro hesitantly chuckled at the joke, taking her hand with uncertainty. Muttering some greetings, he walked back to Wanda as Agnes was still looking at him, a glimpse of... something in her eyes.

‘Oh, come on, Pietro was way too young for Agnes. Plus, wasn’t she married?’ Wanda pushed her thought aside; her neighbor was probably wondering when he got there. She got up, at least wanting to be polite in order to do introductions.

“Agnes, this is my twin brother, Pietro, he arrived two days ago.”

Once again, an awkward silence crept over the household as she sat back down, only broken by the occasional crunch of Wanda’s cereal. It was Agnes who eventually spoke up.

“Wanda,” she said, in a concerned tone, “do you- do you need to be alone for a bit?” The redhead looked at her, shocked she’d even suggest that. The woman raised her hand in front of her in surrender, showing she didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “I wouldn’t mind taking the twins for a day, and I could use your brother for a few reparations Ralph keeps putting off.”

Agnes didn’t wait for an answer, taking both of the boy’s arm and leading them to her. Tommy and Billy protested, but Wanda confirmed that it would be for the best. As her neighbor started to leave, Pietro sat down next to his sister.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he declared, surprising both Wanda and, apparently, Agnes who pressed her lips together in frustration. He turned to the neighbor who was halfway out of the door. “I’ll come later for the repairs, but my sister needs me for now.”

With a sharp nod, Agnes was out of the door, leaving the Maximoff twins alone once again. Pietro turned to her and sat down. He removed the now empty bowl from her hands and put it on the table, taking her hand in his. With eerie similarity to the night before, he looked at her with concern.

“Are you okay?”

...

Notes: So, Agatha has the twins and has an interest in Pietro! I've changed the dialogue to fit my story better while keeping the original meaning. Also, Ralph in my story doesn't exist; it's the *never shown but always mentioned significant other* trope shows sometimes have.

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Oooh, if you’re still taking those “I love you” prompts, can I please have drarry + 15? Thank you! ❤️

Thank you for the prompt ❤️

The way you said “I love you” 15: Loud, so everyone can hear.

They fell in love on a Wednesday night like any other, almost without noticing. 

It happened during what, years later, they would call “the spring that lasted a full year”. Harry had finally made his way back to England after half a decade of travelling, and they found themselves having dinner with what used to be their individual friend groups and had somehow, at some point, become a unit. 

More often than either of them would like to admit, in those weekly dinner nights at whoever’s house had been offered the week before, they would end up in secluded corners, just talking, would have denied it if it weren’t for the fact that they were caught at it a handful of times — Theo walking into the kitchen where they were huddled together, whispering even though they were alone; Ron opening the bathroom door without knocking that time Draco cried into Harry’s shoulder; Hermione and Pansy stumbling into the cellar, where Harry and Draco sat on the floor, sharing a wine bottle, laughing and drinking themselves silly. 

They were caught, and teased, and each time it happened Harry would give him a conspiratorial smile so bright Draco almost had to step back from it, but instead bore it stoically, with a flush to the tips of his ears. 

The first time it happened, the last remnants of winter still clung to the night. Each time, it would let up a fraction, until buds sprung up in the middle of Draco’s belly, bloomed every time he learned something new about Harry, and then it was spring, it was always spring. 

And so, they fell in love on a Wednesday night like any other, at Hermione and Ron’s minuscule flat in London, sitting side by side with the tips of their pinky fingers brushing underneath the dinner table. 

They were the last ones to leave, that night, and when they did, the air felt thick with new beginnings and Draco’s side tingled where Harry pressed against it as they walked down the street. It was not raining, the first dry night they had in a while, but still their shoulders were covered in thin raincoats and their heads bent low. Draco knew something was happening, could feel it in the way his heart seemed to be fighting its way out of his chest, but he couldn’t have said what it was. 

They fell in love quietly, not knowing it was love. The first kiss, when it happened, surprised them both. 

It was me, Harry would say, years later, I kissed you first. 

No, Draco would argue, I leaned in, it was me, it was me. 

Truth be told, neither of them could tell — all they knew was Harry walked Draco home that night and in the space of a second, in between one moment and the next, their noses were brushing and their lips touching. 

They were in love. It was spring. 

Nobody could have predicted it, Draco least of all, but if he’d ever dared imagine it in his wildest dreams, he wouldn’t have pictured it the way it truly was. He would have thought, we’ve gone through so much, it will be intense and difficult. It wasn’t. Falling in love with Harry was the gentlest thing he’d ever experienced, easy as breathing, as if it had always been a part of him, a seed waiting to be nurtured and grow. 

It took them nine long months to get to that kiss, summer and autumn and winter passed, but once they got there, they moved quick and without hesitation, went from kissing to touching to sleeping in each other’s beds to moving in together in the space of one spring. 

They were sure their friends would be shocked, even prepared a speech to deliver at the next gathering, flashcards with several bullet points that ended up being useless, for Draco blurted it out as soon as they stepped into Theo’s, and everyone laughed and laughed and money was passed around to a chorus of About time! Took you both long enough! 

It was love — the true kind — even if Harry tiptoed around the word, even if Draco was slightly terrified whenever he stopped to think about how much it meant to him and how destroyed he would be if anything were to touch it. 

Fear made him coarse, sometimes. It would make him act up, yell whenever Harry did something reckless because he thought it would be fun and got himself hurt — too often, way too often — would make him break down and cry in the hallway of the hospital after Harry had crashed his bike, or fallen from a great height, or stunned himself while trying to perfect his charmwork. 

Made him pack his bags and leave their flat one rainy morning, and that, too, felt like a message. Spring was over. It was time for summer rain. 

He didn’t want to leave, but if he was going to lose Harry, he would lose him in a way he could control. I can’t see you die, he scribbled in his goodbye note, because he wasn’t strong enough to say it to Harry’s face, I can’t spend my days waiting for the hospital to call and tell me something’s happened to you, to say you didn’t make it this time. 

They hadn’t said the words, so he didn’t write them. It had been six months, the happiest of his life, the scariest of his life, and he loved Harry but hadn’t said it yet and wouldn’t get to, because he was leaving. It was for the best. 

Avoiding Harry proved almost more difficult than forgetting him. He seemed to be everywhere Draco looked for months after their break up.

Coincidence. I wasn’t following you, Harry would say, years later. 

You were so following me.

I wasn’t, but if I had been, you should be grateful because otherwise you’d never have talked to me again and you know it. 

If Harry wasn’t following him, it certainly seemed like it. Draco ended up walking out of dozens of parties and avoiding parts of London he’d previously frequented because he couldn’t stop running into his ex, who he hadn’t spoken to once after breaking up and whose letters he burned every morning. 

That was not a sustainable way of life, of course, and it had Draco slightly unhinged, which was how, years later, he’d excuse that night’s actions. 

Spring was around the corner again, and the numerous Christmas parties held by their friend group had begun. He couldn’t recall the exact series of events, but he remembered it happened (more or less) as follows: 

They were at Blaise’s, there was music, the newest Weird Sisters’ album- 

It definitely wasn’t the Weird Sisters, Harry would say, years later. 

It was the Weird Sisters, Draco would argue. 

So, the Weird Sisters played and Blaise had invited the entirety of London, it seemed, and Draco felt alone and miserable and couldn’t stop thinking about how, the year before, Harry and him had snuck out of the party and climbed to the roof of the house to stargaze. 

He could see Harry across the room, looting the snack table, and it still hurt, not being able to walk up to him and hold his hand and knowing the only reason he couldn’t was his own damn pride. 

What happened after was crazy, to say the least. Draco couldn’t remember what had driven him to make the decision, all he knew was that he had walked to the snack table, held the tablecloth in both fists and pulled, hard. 

Definitely unhinged, Harry would say, years later, laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. But he hadn’t laughed, when it happened, instead he stared at Draco, wide eyed as every plate crashed on the floor and Draco exploded in front of him. 

You are infuriating, Draco had said, then, sounding insane. I can’t stand the sight of you, you drive me crazy, what are you doing here? Why have you been following me? I can’t do this, I hate you, I hate this food, I don’t want to see you ever again. 

You said a few more things, Harry would say, years later, but he wouldn’t push because he knew Draco would be embarrassed about that episode for the rest of his life. 

When it happened, though, the only thing Harry had said was, Are you done? 

And it infuriated Draco so deeply that he turned around and made for the door through the crowd, trembling, on the verge of crying. 

But the music stopped, just then. 

It definitely wasn’t the Weird Sisters.

Oh, shut up. 

The music stopped, and Draco turned around and found Harry standing on top of the table Draco had just ruined, looking so upset and beautiful and hurt that Draco couldn’t leave the room after all. 

Don’t go, Harry had said, then, breathed it out. Don’t go, I —. 

It wasn’t just the music. The room had gone quiet, everyone staring at the two boys making a scene, but Draco almost wasn’t aware of them, felt them fade out as his entire being focused on Harry, the face he knew so well, and, for once, listened. 

It’s been hell, why haven’t you answered any of my letters? I — And then he said it, loud, so everyone could hear. I love you. I loved you and I love you and I never wanted to hurt you, please don’t leave, please don’t go, please —

I didn’t beg that much, Harry would say, years later. 

You did, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Theo, Pansy and Blaise would remind him, until he sighed and admitted Right, I did, I did beg very much. 

But it was alright, in the end. Because after a very long winter came spring and with it, a love that had been put on hold bloomed again, brighter and stronger than ever before. 

And then we got married, Harry would say, years later. And Draco would smile. 

[anarchy-n-glitter]

Nothing to Fear

Summary:

Lake County, Colorado

2011

JJ's been located in the asylum. Dr. Crane steps deeper into the monster's den.

(Warnings: Gore, implied torture, referenced self harm)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

CHAPTER 6

She wanted to cry. She saw him, sitting alone in a cell and she was sure he was unaware of their watching eyes. Trager stood next to her, his hand on her hip to keep her close. This whole situation, she had determined, was a way to show his power over her. She wouldn’t let him do this to her, though, nor would she allow him to do this to the people she loved. By the end of tomorrow night, he’ll be the one sitting in that cell.

J.J. was staring at the wall blankly, facing them, and she could see the horrible, bloody wounds around his mouth. She was reminded of what Trager said to her when they made that deal, how J.J. was admitted due to a “meltdown,” and she assumed he ended up hurting himself. She glanced at Trager from the corner of her eye. She didn’t trust him one bit, and for some strange reason she had no doubt that he had something to do with this. She had never seen J.J. so lifeless, even when he was in Arkham he was lively and trying his best. Here he looked like he was comatose. His vivid green eyes that were usually bright and full of life were dull and stared blankly at the wall, and she knew someone had hurt him.

“I want him transferred to Arkham back in Gotham.” She stated, loud enough and forcefully enough for Trager to understand that she was going to get what she wanted, whether he did it or she did.

“His doctor’s there and she can help. We can’t treat him here and you know it.” She continued. His grip on her tightened and he seemed to bring her closer to him. He was silent, thinking probably. She could see his face in the reflection and he seemed less than pleased. She knew he could see her too, but that didn’t stop her. Suddenly, a smirk broke out on his face.

“Come to my place after dinner tomorrow and you got yourself a deal.” He offered, and Dr. Crane felt her heart speed up. She knew she was in dangerous territory, and now she had to negotiate her way out of it. After Michelle’s story, there was no way she’d go back to his house.

“Make it my apartment.” She stated, and she watched his eyes widen. He arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her boldness.

“Oh? What’s wrong with my place?” He asked, though she was sure he’d be fine with going to her apartment instead. Either way, he thought he was getting laid, it didn’t matter the setting.

“It’s up to you, really. I’d just rather we go to my apartment.” She explained. She made sure she kept her face blank, or even made it seem like she was mildly interested in the conversation.

“Alright, fine. Your place it is.” He finally agreed. Mentally, she felt herself decompress. If he continued to be so stubborn she had no choice but to reveal what she knew, yet, she didn’t want to do that. The information revealed to her was integral and she knew she couldn’t show all of her cards at once. If she was going to show that she was truly in control, then she would have to wait. She would have to wait until he was at her mercy, begging to be released from whatever bind he was in. Hell, maybe she’d make him fall in love with her - if that was even possible - and then she’d reveal the truth. The whole truth. That she could never love a man like him, and (hopefully) he’d be locked away for what he did.

“I’ll tell Blaire about the transfer request, I’ll say it came from that new girl… your assistant, what was her name again? It’s something that starts with a D, right?” Trager asked, though she felt like he was stalling. Other than how that was obviously a bad idea, she disagreed because she feared him targeting Dr. Dawes after her. She wouldn’t be shocked, after all, she was younger than her, and shorter, and she had blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was stunning, and the creep that currently held Cat like a lover would have to have noticed her. There was no doubt he would go after her. Not only that, but she was young and impressionable, she was new too, which would give him even more power over her than he ever held with Michelle and Cat.

“Dr. Dawes? No, she’s too close to me. They’d suspect I put in the request the moment they confront her. Just skip the middleman and say I did it, after all, I knew his doctor, I know who can treat him.” She stated calmly, and she could have sworn she saw him thinking, saw him putting the pieces together, and it made her sick.

“Alright, whatever you say Cat.” She remained calm, her face stoic.

2

He pushed a few molars around in the palm of his hand, completely fascinated by how the light reflected off of the bright, white teeth. He had cleaned them off to the best of his abilities, though he was sure his buyers wouldn’t mind. They were more than capable of removing any evidence that someone could trace back to him and Mount Massive, though maybe that’s what they’d want. In order for that to happen though, they had to be caught, and they wouldn’t want that.

He was getting a pretty penny for ol’ Jack Jr.’s teeth, and the less Cat Crane knew about that, the better. As it turned out, J.J. showing up that day was a godsend. He had a history of mental illness, though his files said nothing about self harm he knew from his experience working in the asylum that a mental breakdown could trigger an extreme reaction like that. J.J. was the perfect person to do that to, and he served a few other purposes. He needed teeth for his buyers, and he needed Cat’s attention, something he could hold over her for a little bit until she was desperate. He succeeded in that.

For some strange reason, he felt like she was someone who could understand him. He thought this the moment he laid eyes on her, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He enjoyed the little game they played, where she acted like she despised him when he knew that deep down, she was as fascinated by him as he was with her. Yes, he did hope things would go his way tomorrow night, and he would absolutely love to just do his thing and leave her behind, but he was coming to the realization that he just couldn’t. If he were to have her, there would be no going back, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her if he tried, even if she wanted nothing to do with him in the end.

They were people of science, after all, and while he was a doctor in everything but name, he felt she could complete him in that sense. Under all that cold, bitter attitude, he knew she was just as unhinged and violent as he was. He was the antithesis of everything she was, and that’s what he liked about her. She wasn’t like him, but he could tell that at their very cores, they were the same. He wanted to show her that.

Deep down, he wanted to believe she’d be lost without him.

Blaire strolled into his office, making Trager curl his hand into a fist, hiding the teeth from his friend. While he was sure he knew about his little “business,” Trager didn’t want to risk anything. To be honest, he wasn’t in much of a talking mood at the moment. He wanted to clear his mind and get ready to bring the teeth to his customers, and he wanted to think about his next move. That was the thing with Cat Crane, when he thought he was ahead, she was only a step ahead of him. It didn’t take much to change that little pattern, but he hadn’t gotten as far as he wanted to. She was still able to take control of her situation - and he knew it was a situation she wasn’t fond of - and turn the tables on him. Now he was stuck having to improvise.

On one hand, he’d now know where she lived, but on the other… there was no way in hell Cat was gonna let him anywhere near her willingly.

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” Blaire asked after what felt like forever. In reality, it had only been a moment. Trager was stuck in his own head that day, but it was something that couldn’t be helped.

“Yeah, totally, bud. Don’t worry. You won’t believe who I got to go out with me.” He told him, leaning forward with a wide smile on his face. Blaire scoffed.

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s that weird broad you’ve been bothering for the past few weeks.” Blaire rolled his eyes at the thought of it. There was no doubt Trager blackmailed the new doctor into going, and he was sure the fallout of his terrible decisions would end up hurting the company. He warned him when they first hired Dr. Crane, but he knew Trager wouldn’t listen.

“Oh yeah, it’s her alright. That guy I had you admit was the bait.” Blaire glared at his friend.

“Ricky,” he began sternly, moving closer to the nonchalant man’s desk. “Don’t tell me that’s why you had me do that.” When Trager didn’t answer, Blaire knew he was right.

“Oh god this is gonna be terrible for the company.” Blaire muttered, running his fingers through his thin, greasy hair.

“Come on, Jer. I made sure he didn’t know it was me. If he does know, he won’t figure it out for a while. Cat wants him transferred back to Arkham, but if you really don’t trust it we can just send someone with him.” He practically watched the small man’s face grow red.

“Oh? And who the hell would that be.” Trager stopped to think about this, before the image of the small, blonde doctor came to mind.

“Dr. Dawes.”

“She’s new, but she’s been around Dr. Crane’s experiments. Too risky.” Trager shook his head.

“If you think Arkham isn’t crawling with corruption too, buddy, then you have another thing coming.” Trager answered, his tone bordering on threatening.

“I assume you’ve done your research?” Blaire asked, and Trager nodded. With a sigh, Blaire finally agreed, leaving Trager’s office shortly after, leaving the man alone with his thoughts and teeth again.

[thebumblebyog]

The Celebration at Bright Moon (Part 1)

(First fan fiction I’ve written in a long while; I’m thinking this will be a four or five part story. Let me know what you think!)

Catra lay curled up in a low tree branch at the edge of the whispering wood, which in about an hour had become her new favorite napping spot. She heard Bow and Glimmer coming a mile away and thought about leaving before they got close enough to annoy her, but the sun was warm and it had been so long since she’d gotten any sleep that she decided to risk it.

“Heeeeeeeeey, Catra!” Bow yelled from under the tree, his dopey smile audible in his voice.

Catra’s tail bristled and she turned over, scrunching her face and trying to hold onto her sleep.

“Ugh, go away you two!” Catra said, too fresh from sleep to yell.

“Don’t be like that,” Glimmer shouted defensively, “We wanted to make sure you were okay!”

“If that were true you’d let me sleep,” Catra mumbled.

“Yeah! How’s the newest member of the best friends squad doing?!” Bow shouted.

“Just because we’re friends now doesn’t mean I wanna be in your stupid club, Bow,” Catra yelled without looking, hoping that would be enough to get them to leave her alone.

In a flash, Glimmer was up in the tree with her, “Ha! So you admit that we’re friends!”

Catra jumped and hissed, falling off of her branch and sinking to all fours as she hit the ground. Maybe staying put had been the wrong choice.

“Ugh, what do you want?!” Catra yelled as Glimmer teleported back next to Bow.

“Can’t we just want to see how you are? It’s been...kind of a big day,” Glimmer said with a shrug toward her massive understatement and taking Bow’s hand, cuddling up to him.

“I’m fine, aside from being pulled from a perfectly good nap,” Catra turned to climb back up her tree, “speaking of which, if that’s all you wanted-“

“Actually as long as we have you-“ Bow raised his hand.

“Of course it’s not,” Catra sighed as she stepped back down.

“There’s going to be a huge party tonight to celebrate the defeat of Horde Prime and the liberation of Etheria!” Glimmer shouted with sparkling eyes.

Catra rolled her eyes “Great, fireworks, even less sleep.”

“Ugh, Catra, you’re the worst!” Glimmer moaned, “Just have some fun; I think you’ve earned it after everything we’ve been through! Literally everyone is going to be there!”

“Yeah, about that,” Catra raised an eyebrow condescendingly, “I’m pretty sure me at a princess party will bring back some rough memories for everyone involved.”

“Really, princess prom? That’s your excuse? We’ve faced alien armadas, clone armies, and the near destruction of the universe, and you’re worried people will be thinking about a party you ruined last year?” Glimmer stared in annoyed disbelief.

“Come on,” Bow cut in, his stupid smile changing into an even stupider smile, “You can take Adora.”

“What?” Catra blushed, stepping halfway around the tree, trying to create a barrier between her and these annoying people, “Why would I- I mean, what do you mean take Adora?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Glimmer’s stupid smile looked exactly like Bow’s, they were already acting like such a couple. “We saw how you two were with each other when you got back from the heart.”

“So, what happened between you two crazy kids?” Bow said, leaning forward.

“Nothing!” Catra hissed.

“Come ooon!” Glimmer demanded.

“Tell us!!!” Bow begged.

The duo chased Catra around the tree, switching sides with her.

Catra spun around the tree, too fast for them, “Why don’t you just ask Adora?”

“We did on the way over here. She blushed, awkwardly babbled for a minute, and ran to her room with a weird excuse,” Bow shrugged.

“That’s how we KNOW it’s good!” Glimmer said, bouncing a little.

“Uuuuuuugh, you two are...” Catra stopped and took a deep breath.

‘Like Perfuma said, these are your friends, you can trust them with your feelings,’ she thought.

‘If this doesn’t go well I’m gonna scratch Perfuma so hard,’ she thought immediately afterwards.

“When we were down there, Adora was unconscious, and...fading. I was so scared I would lose her that I told her she had to stay because...” Catra looked and the ground and blushed a little, tapping her claws together, “because I love her.”

Bow gasped and covered his mouth, But Glimmer kept her cool, “and what did she say?”

Catra blushed much harder, but not from embarrassment anymore, “She said she loved me too.”

Bow and Glimmer both gasped and held each other.

“Hey, do you wanna hear the rest or not?” Catra shouted.

“There’s more?!” Bow squeaked.

“No! I mean, well...we kissed,” Catra was still blushing, but it was easy to smile at that part. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being honest with these two.

Bow started crying, weeping really. Glimmer teleported about thirty times in three seconds. Maybe it was a little bad being honest with these two.

“It’s like you want me to go back to hating you!”

“The best friends squad is also...” Bow sniffed and fought back more tears, “The best couples squad!”

Catra stopped blushing as the blood ran out of her face and she took a step back, “I didn’t say anything about us being a couple.”

“It kind of feels like you did,” Glimmer chuckled.

“Well I didn’t!” Catra snapped.

“So wait...you two aren’t together?” Bow asked, looking severely confused and a little disappointed.

“I mean...I dunno.” Catra turned away and wrapped her tail around her torso without noticing.

“Do you...not want to be with her?” Glimmer asked. Bow gasped at the thought.

“Don’t be stupid, of course I do!” Catra yelled, this was getting too confusing, “I just don’t know if...ugh, I just don’t know if we’re together!”

“Seriously?!” Bow yelled “After all of that, after everything that just went down, you don’t think you and Adora are together?!”

“I mean I know that we’re...it’s not like I think...” Catra sighed, stupid Perfuma getting her to share feelings, “look, a few hours ago there was an alien dictator and a magical super-weapon to worry about. We didn’t exactly have time for a conversation about...whatever it is we’re doing.”

“But you ARE doing something, right?! You can admit that, RIGHT?!” Bow was reaching his hands out like eyes looked like they might pop out of his head.

“...maybe?” Catra was definitely going to scratch Perfuma for the way being vulnerable was turning out.

“What do you mean maybe?! Do you think Adora confused the words ‘I love you’ and kissing with a friendly hello and a firm handshake?! Do you think it was a prank or something?!” Bow was starting to get a little unhinged, he could be...intense when it came to romance.

“I know she meant it, I’m just...not sure that loving me means she wants to be with me,” Catra mumbled

“Ugh, you’re ridiculous!” Glimmer shouted as she walked in an angry little circle around Bow, “how could you think that Adora doesn’t want to be with you when she literally just said that she loves you?!”

“Because I don’t deserve her, okay!” Catra screamed. Bow and Glimmer’s faces changed from looks of annoyance to concern. “It’s not like it is between you two; you’ve always been on the same side, always been there for each other. Of course you want to be together. But me? I’ve done so much to hurt her that I don’t even think I would have told Adora how I felt if I hadn’t been afraid she was about to...” Catra’s voice was getting higher, more strained, tears had started pooling at the corners of her eyes.

“Catra-“ Bow reached out his hand to touch her on the shoulder, but she slapped it away.

“We kissed when we thought we might die! When it was just the two of us! But now we’re out here in the world again, and you want me to go with her to your stupid party with all of the people that she loves and that I’ve hurt!” The anger on Catra’s face was gone now, all that was left was fear and hurt, “What if she remembers all the things I’ve done and she leaves me again!”

Catra took a a shaky breath and wiped her eyes as anger started creeping back over her face again like armor. Glimmer stepped forward and reached for Catra’s hands.

“Get away from me!” She tried to push her away the way she had with Bow, but Glimmer was more persistent, grabbing both of her friend’s wrists and holding them tight between the two of them.

“Catra, look at me,” Glimmer said sternly.

Catra continued looking away, trying to feel anger, annoyance, anything but afraid.

“Look at me!” Glimmer broke through, and Catra managed to turn her head toward the queen.

“You’ve done a lot of bad things, and you have to take responsibility for them. That’s going to be hard,” Glimmer said firmly but kindly.

“Gee, thanks sparkles, I feel way better,” she sighed defeatedly.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself,” Glimmer’s voice had softened, “You’ve changed so much, done so much good! You saved my life! Adora’s life! The whole universe!”

Catra made more eye contact and relaxed her shoulders a little, letting Glimmer take her hands.

“You’re not perfect Catra, nobody is. But you are good. I know that, and Adora knows that too.”

“You really think so?” Catra said, her voice trembling just a little.

“Absolutely. You just have to trust her,” Glimmer squeezed Catra’s hand, “She will always see that you’re good Catra, because she loves you.”

Glimmer patted Catra on the shoulder and was about to turn to leave when Catra suddenly lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her.

“Thank you,” Catra whispered.

Stunned, Glimmer wrapped her arms around Catra.

Bow started to tear up. “This is such a beautiful moment for the best friends squad.”

Catra rolled her eyes, “Could you talk him into picking a better name?”

Glimmer chuckled as the two broke their embrace and stepped apart, “Believe me, I’ve tried, but he’s never letting it go.”

“We were just about to head to the kitchen to eat before the celebration,” Bow said more calmly, getting control of himself again, “Want to come?”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna go find Adora,” Catra said, wiping her eyes and smiling, “I think there’s something I have to ask her.”

[selenekallanwriter]

Anchored: Selkie prompt based short story.

I blinked at him, still not sure if it was a dream. Heaven knows I have weird dreams all the time. I pinched my leg with my right hand, hidden under the table, blinked hard. Nope, there was still a surreally beautiful, silver-haired man with a small black velvet box in his hand, holding a ring with a blue stone. And everyone in the small café had noticed too. No sound of chatter or the clink of spoons in ceramic. “What?” I repeated. Because apparently, that was the only word I could remember. He swallowed, licked his lips, his beautiful, rosy lips-- I shook my head. “Maybe I should have invited you to a coffee first before proposing,” he mused, an adorable flush settling on his pale cheeks. No, not adorable, dammit! He’d just proposed in the middle of a busy café to a complete stranger. He was probably mentally unhinged, and if an anxious disaster like me could tell, then that wasn’t very promising. “Say yes!” said one of the waiters, the kid faced lady that had given me free cookies the day before. Others echoed her, lifting their frothy cocoa mugs as if they were beer tankards and we were all toasting. Some look just as stunned, probably gawking at the man, at the silvery coat that seemed to glow even in the soft light of late afternoon coming through the windows. At his elegant six-foot frame and that face that seemed carved by an artist. I felt lightheaded. “I-I need air,” I said, getting up, almost stumbling with my clumsy feet as I rushed towards the glass door and pushed it, rushing across the cobbled street of the quiet little town and then running, not sure where. It’d been a long time since I’d literally run from a stressful situation, but I had a good excuse. I’d never been proposed by a stranger. A too-beautiful-to-be-real stranger. I stopped, hands bracing my knees as my lungs burned for air. Breathe, you idiot, I scolded myself. I did, gulping, salty, cool air, the beeping in my ears receding. The sound of waves crashing against stone helped as well, I matched my exhalations with every crash. Minutes later, no idea how many, I was able to stand straight, and overlook the imposing view of the ocean, beating against the cliff. The sun was setting, casting orange and purple light over the horizon. So beautiful that I forgot for a moment about how my face still burned and my hands were shaking. I knew the image would be forever imprinted in my mind, and even though it had been years since I’d painted, I wanted to render that sunset, even if I could never do it justice. “I’m sorry.” I froze, half turning towards the sound of that voice. Oh my gods, the loon had followed me. The edges of panic dulled by the sight of him, silver blond hair waving in the breeze, ocean eyes open, and kind and embarrassed. The sunset light made him look even more beautiful, something that should be impossible. His coat waved a bit on the wind and I felt compelled to touch it again. I clenched my hands. No, that was the reason why this mess had begun. I don’t approach people normally. But he’d not noticed when his coat had dropped from the back of his chair, too engrossed in the book he was reading. What if someone had stepped on it? So I’d swallowed the awkwardness and handed it to him, mesmerized by those eyes that managed to be gray, blue, and green all at once. And I was staring like a complete idiot again. “My sister did say that humans in this era might be a bit stunned with a marriage proposal so fast,” he said, head tilting slightly, a shy smile on his face. I let out a hysterical laugh. “Yeah, a bit. And what on earth did you mean by “getting married by human customs as well”?” He blinked, something like apprehension flashing in his eyes. “I would explain right now, but I think you need some time,” he took a step closer and handed me my book and my blue wool coat, careful, waiting. I took a step forward and took my things, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. A warm current raced through my skin from only that minimal contact. “Do you mind if I accompany you? Perhaps invite you to have some dinner, since I didn’t allow you to enjoy your cocoa?” He requested, voice deep, but velvety, mesmerizing. I licked my parched lips, shook my head to clear my thoughts. Part of me wanted to say no, but hadn’t I come here, to this quaint little town that barely did show up in maps to be different? To learn how to let go and just exist, without worrying about things like being reasonable? And wasn’t spending time with a beautiful and mad stranger a good way to keep that promise to myself? He waited, no signs of wanting to rush me, and that helped me decide. “Okay,” I agreed. The blinding smile that stole his face made my heart race for an entirely different reason. “With one condition,” I amended. He approached one more step, leaving two feet between us but close enough for me to feel that warm, ocean, and mint scent that had made me want to sniff his coat the day before. “Anything you want,” he promised. I licked my lips. “No more marriage proposals tonight.” That made him laugh, a charming laugh that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “No more marriage proposals tonight,” he vowed, stretching a hand towards me. I took it, expecting the warm and tingly feeling but still being shocked by it. His eyes met mine, a slow shy but pleased smile spreading across his face, and I knew he felt it, too. I blinked and looked away, breaking the daze before I did something reckless and uncharacteristic. And why had I added that ‘tonight’ instead of just banning marriage proposals in general? I wondered as he took us towards the path that led down the small hill. Ah yes, because I’d lost my mind. I risked a glance and met his eyes again, finding the same charming smile and echoing it with an awkward one. Who needs to reasonable anyway?

© SELENE KALLAN 2020

[pastelsapphy]

Inferno

Warnings: Major character death, murder, suicide, arson, death by fire, unhinged Saeyoung

AO3 Link

A/N: I wrote this at midnight because the thought wouldn't leave me alone. I wonder what Saeyoung's plan was if he'd gotten all three of them to the cabin like he'd wanted in VAE. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be pretty. And I think seeing both of Saeran's killers in front of him... the thought that Saeran wouldn't want revenge wouldn't stop him. Not this time.

I might go back and edit the dialogue later. It wasn't the point of this; the point is the ending and Saeyoung's grief. The world needs more unhinged Saeyoung. Let him be angry and terrifying.

Normally I'm not a fan of unhappy/hopeless endings, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. This is supposed to take place at the end of VAE episode 2 when Saeyoung initially interrogates Rika; the only difference is he managed to hunt down V as well. So maybe Jumin and Jaehee show up moment later and manage to save any or all three them. Maybe Saeyoung ends up with a cool scar to match Saeran's. Maybe not. Who knows.

There is an old clock in the cabin. Saeyoung isn't sure how it still works--it's not like anyone who comes out here is about to change the batteries or anything. Yet it works, filling the tiny wooden building with a steady tick, tick, tick as the seconds go by.

It's fitting, really. It's as if the universe is counting down the minutes. How many more does he have? Maybe it's only a few. Perhaps as much as an hour. Certainly not much more than that.

Tick, tick, tick.

He had already sent Vanderwood outside. Well, forced them out might be more accurate--they could tell something was wrong with Saeyoung. Of course, they knew about his brother by this point; they knew he was going to grieve, and grieving people do weird shit to cope. And Saeyoung is a weird guy to begin with. But something was just... off. It was a feeling in their gut. Something snapped in that kid's brain and Vanderwood wasn't keen on leaving him to his own devices.

"I'm not leaving you by yourself so you can do something stupid," Vanderwood had said.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, Vanderwood." Saeyoung did not shift his gaze away from the cabin's other two occupants. "It's in everyone's best interest if you wait outside."

"I told you I'm--"

"Get the fuck out!" Saeyoung snapped, briefly looking away to shoot a glare at the other agent.

Vanderwood had been momentarily stunned into silence. They yelled at Saeyoung on a regular basis--the kid had caused them so many headaches over the years--but never had Saeyoung snapped back like that. He would make smartass remarks, god knows he was full of them, but he never yelled. If he had ever been truly angry with Vanderwood, he had never shown it.

There was a long silence, broken only by the ever-present tick, tick, tick of the old clock. Then, Vanderwood had sighed and stood from their chair. "Fine. But if I think you're about to do something that will endanger both our lives, I'm coming back."

"You don't have to worry about that. Just wait outside, Agent."

Something about the way he said that sent a chill down their spine. Maybe it was his tone, now constantly laced with barely-restrained rage. Maybe it was the fact that he called them Agent. Maybe it was instinct. But after another moment's pause, they stepped outside the cabin. They reached into their pocket for their cigarettes, only to find them gone, along with their lighter. Must have left them in the cabin. By the time they turned around to check, Saeyoung had already latched the door behind them.

So now it's just the three of them, three people tied together by one unbreakable thread. Three people who weren't human anymore. Three monsters. Three killers with blood on their hands. The worst kind of scum, all responsible for taking the life of an innocent--someone too kind and pure for this world.

Saeran may have been the one to detonate the bomb that destroyed Magenta, but the three who sit in the cabin--Saeyoung Choi, Jihyun Kim, Rika Kim--are the ones responsible. They all killed Saeran. Saeran's blood coats their hands and would never, could never, be washed away.

Tick, tick, tick.

V, ever the mediator, is the first to break the silence. "Luciel--"

"Why?" The word tears itself from Saeyoung's throat, finally pushing past the lump of rage and guilt that threatens to strangle him.

"I'm sorry, Saeyoung," Rika says. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened. If I could go back, if I could trade my life for his--"

"You have no right to say that." Saeyoung spits, standing abruptly. "You have no! Right!"

Rika falls silent, her hollow-eyed gaze dropping to the floor. Saeyoung hates it. Her demeanor only angers him further. How dare she play the victim? Maybe the 'it's all my fault, I'm the worst, I deserve retribution' thing would garner sympathy from other people, but not Saeyoung. He, in fact, wholeheartedly agrees. It is all her fault. She is the worst person in the world. She does deserve retribution. The same goes for V and himself.

"Luciel--" V tries again.

"And neither do you!" Saeyoung's venom now turns to him. "Don't you dare say anything about sacrifice. It means nothing. It won't bring him back. It won't change what you did to him."

Tick, tick, tick.

"I trusted you," Saeyoung says. "I. Trusted. You. You promised me--you swore to me that you would protect him! How could you--" his voice cracks. "How could you do that to him? Saeran was good. Saeran was innocent. Saeran was kind, and gentle, and he deserved to be loved. But you--you--"

He lets out a frustrated noise, unable to turn his thoughts into words. His mind is nothing but a loop of rage, rage, rage. Rage and vengeance and shame and guilt.

"You killed him," he finally growls. "Both of you killed him. And... so did I. Every one of us is responsible for what happened to him."

"Luciel," V tries again. "We--" he sighs. "Please, Luciel... if anything, do not blame yourself--"

"How?" He snaps. "How?! I trusted you both to look after him. To care for him. To treasure him. And instead, you manipulated and brainwashed him. You tortured him just like our mother did." He feels a twisted sense of satisfaction at the pained gasp Rika lets out, as if she's been stabbed through the heart.

Saeyoung decides to twist the knife further. "Actually, you were even worse than our mother. At least she never lied to us. We knew from the beginning that she only wanted us to get money from our father, that she never loved either of us. But you? You lied. You promised to protect us, to help us. But in the end you were just the same. You gave us hope only for your own selfish needs.

"Saeran spent every day of his life living in fear while you beat all the kindness and gentleness out of him.

"And you--" Now he speaks directly to V. "You did nothing to stop her. Fuck all your excuses. I don't care about your sacrifice. You were only ever concerned with her. You were only ever protecting her. If you had really wanted to protect Saeran then you would have saved him from her. You can martyr yourself all you want, it won't make you any better than her."

Tick, tick, tick.

The air in the room shifts abruptly. It's charged, thrumming like a livewire. The explosive anger evaporates in an instant; it's replaced by something far more terrifying.

"All of Saeran's killers must be held responsible for what happened," Saeyoung says. His anger is no longer a raging inferno. Now, his anger is like ice. It's calm, now. No less intense, but calm. As if he had long ago decided a course of action.

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung crosses the room and reaches for something behind one of the chairs. He wonders, briefly, what his brother's last moments were like. How did the bomb detonate? Had Saeran simply pressed a button and ended it, or was he forced to sit there and listen as a timer counted down his last minutes on Earth?

Tick, tick, tick.

Rika does not react, but V's eyes widen when Saeyoung lifts a large, red plastic canister from behind the chair. "Luciel, what are you--"

Saeyoung unceremoniously upends the container in the middle of the cabin's main room. The liquid quickly soaks into the carpet and the wood flooring, and the heavy smell of gasoline fills the room.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Luciel! Wait, let's talk about this--" V has risen to his feet, but freezes when Saeyoung pulls a beat-up zippo from his pocket.

"Talk?" Saeyoung says, laughing. "Talk?! You had years to talk, V, but you stayed silent and let Saeran suffer. The time for talking has long since passed."

Tick, tick, tick.

He flicks the lighter open with a small metallic clink.

"Saeran wouldn't want this," V tries. His half-blind, once-honest eyes are wide and desperate.

"Don't you dare speak his name!" Saeyoung shouts. "You don't deserve to say his name."

"Please--"

"It doesn't matter anymore what he would have wanted."

It's then that V notices the tears running down Saeyoung's cheeks, the tremble in his voice. Had he ever seen Saeyoung cry before?

"He's gone. And he's never coming back. And those responsible need to pay for it.

"Heh... you know, this is the first time I wished I could get into Heaven," Saeyoung continues, voice breaking. "Just for a few minutes. Just long enough to apologize to Saeran. For everything. For not being able to protect him. For leaving him. For being a terrible brother. For betraying him. For failing him. Beg for his forgiveness. All of us should."

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung lets out a low chuckle. "Knowing Saeran... he would probably forgive us. Not that any of us deserve it. So perhaps it's better this way."

Tick, tick, tick.

"Take your revenge, Saeyoung." Rika's voice is hardly above a whisper, yet it seems so loud in such a small space.

Tick, tick, tick.

Saeyoung lowers himself to the ground, thumb on the wheel of the zippo. The gasoline soaks into the legs of his jeans. His head feels light, and he's not sure if it's from the fumes or if it's a weight lifting off his shoulders.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You wanted us all to be a family, right?" He says.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Then let's go to Hell together."

Tick, tick,

Click

Tick--

BOOM.

[steppesthetic]

I don’t really have a title for this one. It’s just the end of Yamamoto Taiga’s story in season 1 of @for-peace-war ‘s japanime game. It only really works after following along with a very dense tabletop campaign. But I was proud of writing it, and got emotional doing so. So I want to show it off.

In the afternoon heat, morning glories withered. Their vines, along with bitter gourds, clogged up the window as they sneaked up the side of the inpatient wing, forcing the light to filter through with a sickly jungle glow. Summer was coming, and earlier than last year. Time kept playing its games.

Taiga realized he’d slid the yearbook much farther down his lap from where he’d begun. How many hours he had spent glaring at one glossy page, seeing the warped dents of his and his classmates’ pens better than the ink used to write the messages themselves. Between them, fresher marks, leaving deeper wells in the page. There was no space for an unbroken line, so the kanji spilled out onto the page like rent innards. The results were much less poetic than he’d hoped after the almost choreographed haphazardness of how they were written.

garden of dying Wisteria there in she Made her last dance and I saw her lips move to extoll others…? No. 

Thirty-one characters made a poem much larger than this. The copy was already bursting at the seams and could barely recall a single moment crammed into the everything he’d written back at the complex. Just reading it cheapened what he felt that night, the last day of rest before the world all fell apart. More spilled out at the fringes, in ever more isolated syllables

Longing for death is masturbation ^ ??? What the fuck is that? Chaos…? An infinite number of universes? Wishing for an enemy is murder In want of one, I turn the pen on myself.

More general, like the original, but full of hokum lecturing. The hand holding the pen that offended him so whipped back and sent it on a vicious curve to the door. He immediately regretted it. Like a weak hand bolstered by gripping a sword, his deprived shoulder began to ache miserably in the absence. Hot shame rose up his cheeks. He couldn’t see straight. He shook from the effort to repress it before it welled up into something humiliating. It only shook more tears loose.

It was always Yamamoto Taiga’s greatest fortune in life for those females of his species to find him at his weakest and least appealing. So this trend was continued even in the better world to which he had been ferried when the door opened, a quick, confident step breaching the doorway before it hesitated.

“Tate... oh.” 

Though he avoided looking, from the sound of her voice, the way she stomped in, more like an athlete than a woman, and at the very least the name she used, he knew the source immediately. And he knew she could see. With desperation he rubbed his palms into his eyes, desperate to look sick, or groggy, or like someone worsening his eye strain--which he was certainly doing. 

“Hey, Taiga, if you need me to--”

“No!”

He almost shouted it, being much too quick to correct her assumption. “Uh--no, no. Stay, if you want.”

It felt wrong to ask her to continue this uncomfortable exchange, but his request was weakly worded, and it gave her plenty of opportunity to excuse herself. Surprisingly, she didn’t take the out. She stepped closer, no doubt noticing the unhinged scrawl before him and the glossy sheen on his face. Feeling brave, he hazarded a glance up. Annoyingly there was only concern. If she resented the way a grown man cried, she wasn’t showing it. He was grateful, and furious with himself.

She took the seat next to his bed, not saying a word. He could feel her eyes on the book. This made him feel defensive, and he slapped it shut.

“I’ve… already read most of it.” Chisaka tilted her head at him. She hesitated. Taiga could see she’d been trying to hold that remark in. 

In that moment there were remarks he wanted to make, too--like the last time he saw her, she was bleeding out on his bed, or like how she was good with a gun but hers was obviously shit. But strangely enough, other remarks bubbled up. Feelings, more than memories, like he lived vicariously through another Taiga. The Taiga he imagined holding a woman for reasons beyond her being on the brink of death. The latter won out.

“Is doxing me not enough? Yuu… idols are treated better than I am, right now.”

He could see a flash of something on her face before it settled into a more impassive annoyance, as she became her cool self again. “Wha? No, I was almost last in line. You can see. I didn’t have a lot of space left to write...”

“Ah… which means you saw my... fan club.”

She didn’t take the bait. “Are you trying to be subtle? Is this subtle to you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about!” He felt a smirk and hated himself for it, but it was too strong to repress. This finally got a sigh out of her.

Chisaka closed her eyes and bowed her head, readying herself for a prayer. “Fine… congratulations on losing your virginity, Yamamoto-san. May your impending doom as a salaryman in a shrinking economy be relieved, if for a moment, by the warm touch of experienced hands in the only non-transactional comfort you will find in your adult life. I am happy for what nearly losing a knife fight, in spite of having a gun, has earned you.”

A silence followed, awkward and stunned, but Taiga did nothing to help. He could almost hear the deliberations taking place in her head, her wondering if she’d gone too far, asking herself why she’d chosen that line of attack. For his part, he was a little stunned. But as he felt the sting, there was also the sweet salve of how much effort she had to put in to fire back. He relished it like the slowly shifting green light from outside.

“Well… I was supposed to give you this.” She pulled out a notebook from her bag, flipping through the pages. “I guess your mother noticed you scribbling your little notes, but I should tell her that you’ve already made all the addendums you wanted to…?”

His hand snatched at it. He was fast; but to his cheek-warming shame, she was predictably no pushover in a tug-of-war. Even he could see where this would go if he really tried for it, but still he clung on desperately. To see a mother’s love and her child’s love for the written word converge in such a way was too much for him to handle. Besides, he was bored.

“You wouldn’t stand in the way of a mother and her only son, would you?!” 

She smirked at that. “... Hm. What were you writing?”

At that, Taiga was truly taken aback. Yuu must have noticed this, for her grip on the notebook slackened just as his did. “... Poem,” he finally said. There was little to say for it except that it existed, and yet it still nearly felt a betrayal to speak out loud.

Not given much material, she finally let go of the notebook. It was cheap and thin, and felt light as he flopped it on his lap. A thousand scenarios played in his head at once. None were realistic. All assumed she would know of what happened, of the way a woman looked at a man she was prompting to run her through, with no fear but dreadful resolve burned in her near-black eyes. Or that she was a girl from a drama or anime, or one of the more pernicious fantasies he’d spun in his head once those commercialized distractions had bored him, so full of self-denying empathy that she could read into anything she didn’t know, accept her limited place, and give him comfort. How could she know? Why should she care? And wasn’t this all so masturbatory? He wanted to remember the horrific events of a world which might as well have been some insane dream. It was unsustainable. Even thinking about abandoning those thoughts brought a fresh wave of heat to his eyes. He became vaguely aware of a voice to his right, but in front of him saw the silent horror of a 14 year old girl hearing a love poem read to her.

In that moment, he could see perfectly that he did not run away from her misunderstanding. Even then, he knew, she wouldn’t hate him or strike him for what he had shared. He saw in those eyes a vulnerability, a crack in porcelain, and something writhing underneath. Whatever he was made of (old, wadded paper mache) was breaking apart too, as he could see reflected in her. What child wouldn’t run away when presented with such terrible truth? 

The only thing to bring him back was the impression of a figure moving, and the dreadful promise that it meant. He snatched the nearest part of it he could, finding a smaller wrist in his hand. It didn’t resist him, but he clutched it like a magpie would its treasure. “--No!” 

A long pause. Yuu and Taiga both looked down to where they were stuck together. “... I’m not leaving.”

In truth, he could feel, she wasn’t. Her body warmed the space between him and the edge of the mattress. Embarrassment. Humiliation, even. If anything, he couldn’t let those feelings bring him to tears again, so he repressed them, shuddered. Every breath out felt like an exorcism, painful. After the third one he knew something of what he wanted to say next.

“It was a love poem. I wrote it for a girl in middle school. Weird, huh?” His cheeks were wet this time. His resistance didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“Writing bad poetry in middle school? No.”

“This is the funny part. At the end of all the bad things. Right towards the end. All I could think about was that poem, and the girl I read it to. She just… froze. Eyes wide as saucers. She looked--she was so scared. And I thought I’d… fucked it up somehow. So I ran. And tried to forget it. But all I could think about… was that girl, and the poem, right at the… end.”

Yuu groaned. It didn’t sound exasperated. More like she was working out a math problem, or finishing a stretch. “You mean, you were thinking of this poem when the knife maniac attacked...”

“Uh--yes,” was all he could say. What else? But there was something else. And after a retching impulse in his chest, it all came out, burning his throat as it went. “--And--and--she was so afraid. Like a deer, just frozen in front of me. I could see them in--in--in the shooting. In his eyes. She--he was just afraid, another life, and I could feel the jolt, I could feel the pain, I could feel the arms around me shudder. And you harm someone else and you think if it’s for something, and it’s meant to be, and it’s right, it should be rewarded, but it’s not. It’s simply someone suffering. And the least you can do is feel it--right? You caused it!”

The two memories merged. Both fake, both real. He ran through a mass shooter with an ancient katana. He saw Keiko before him, arms outstretched, ready to embrace him. He pulled the trigger. She was gone. He was a hero. A life lived beautifully, erased. A life squandered, made heroic. On this one action the world turned, the destruction of someone beautiful and good.

Her wrist had slipped out from his grasp, but in its place their hands were joined at the palm. She simply held it there, loosely. “... Who was the poem for?”

A final jolt. This time it felt like a relief. The last, lazy wave of the receding tide, but the furthest to reach in. She stood next to him on the bridge as they wondered, one aloud, one quietly, their luck in meeting again. “You’re never going to believe it…”

“Try me.”

A wan smile. It was almost comforting now, if it weren’t for all the pain needed to reach this point. He wiped his eyes. “Well…” He looked up at Yuu. She seemed to be gazing down with an easy calm, but unobfuscated concern, and… dread? He jerked his smile upward, apologetically.

“Well, Ka-ch… Yukimura Kazane and I have always enjoyed a… special--”

“--Hey, just remembered I need to go somewhere. Sorry!”

“--No! No! Wait! She moved out after that year. Don’t even remember her name!”

She stood up, but stopped there. He let go of her hand… but she didn’t let go of his. She sat back down on the bed.

“It’s… hard to make words out of why I thought about that poem. Even to you. But you remember the gun chat…”

She nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“I was deep in it. For a long time. I wanted to go out like a hero. Do something great, pay the ultimate price. Always about death, sacrifice. I wanted that great adventure before the world came crashing down. I craved it. And I got it. I got to live it. And the only thing I could think about… was that poem. The only good I’d ever done. Where that girl was. If she was safe. Happy. Loved. If you’d be safe. If the school... If I would survive. And now…”

There were more words, but they weren’t words. They were hardly even feelings. Hints of things that would frighten him in the future. Monsters under the bed. 

Yuu patted the mattress next to him.

“Hey, scoot over.”

“What--?”

“Just scoot over.”

He slid over to the far side of the mattress. Swinging her legs over, Yuu laid on top of the sheets. Separated, but not by much. The bed was certainly not made for two, even if neither was particularly broad. Her shoulder pressed against his. She looked straight up at the ceiling. A window A/C growled to life on the floor above.

“... You really cared about that bad poem.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“You tried writing since?”

“Not… not particularly.”

“But… yes, you did.”

He looked over at her. “Explain.”

“Come on. They might as well make those conspiracy sites creative writing credit. You made up your own share of bullshit over the years. I even remember some of it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“So… share your work with the class, Yamamoto-san,” she coaxed with a nudge.

“Kay. Two things. First, it’s the last story I made up. And it involves you…”

“Of course. I’m prepared for some hiki bullshit.”

Feeling encouraged, even emboldened, he thought of something and smiled. “Do you… ever remember someone who went by Ran?”

A pause. He could feel the pillows dimple as she shook her head at the ceiling. “... No? Should…!! Wait!” She propped herself up on her elbows. “He like, tried to neg some nudes out of me. A couple years back. When I said no he’d send me these pictures of strangled birds… and… fish documentaries?! For like a year...”

He was already laughing at the thought. The difference between fantasy and reality merged again. He could no longer tell which was real. Or if they were merging into a synthesis of realities. 

Willfully, he burned the steely face of Fujiwara Keiko over this muddled memory. The dreamy face of Keiko in the garden. The doe-eyed fear of middle school Keiko in the courtyard annex. They wouldn’t be forgotten. They couldn’t. But in other things… maybe, this world could exist on its own rules. Even independent of the soul who birthed it. 

But he lost himself. One more memory would need to be said out loud before it merged. “So, when I doxed you, and we met on neutral ground…”

��When I doxed you, and we met at the Green Tea Palace…”

“--Mm, yes. Anyway. He was there. Ran, in the flesh. A living, breathing, PSIA stooge. Tracking us for years…”

[johnny-martin-is-mypeanut]

Discription: There have been good days and bad days...Johnny is possibly at his worst with his anger, as a good boyfriend would try and do is Bull tries to help him with all his might but it might not be possible this time

Tw: Mild swearing, blood, mild angst, ager issues

Johnny was at his worst, his anger was on a hair trigger, he was ready to explode on anyone and the poor bastard was Babe. “Johnny, you ok?...I brought you some food...„ Babe asks quietly as he brought Johnny something to eat. “Heffron, leave me alone...I don't want any...„ Johnny inhales sharply and stood up knowing it was going to be bad "Please at least eat something. Bull is getting worried" Babe mumbles getting nervous "Heffron! I said leave me the hell alone! Jesus Christ! Can't you just go bother someone else! That's what you are a fucking bother!" Johnny stomped away head to a random house, he didn't have a specific house in mind he just went. Babe stood still frozen Johnny hadn't really yelled at him before this was weird, he went to tell Bull what was up.

"Babe?...Hey? You look a little roughed up, you ok?" Bull was quick to question "Johnny...just yelled at me...he said I was a bother..." Babe knew this wasn't true but it really hurt him he counted Johnny as a friend and then to hear something like this kinda ruined him. "You know your not right" Bull was quick to reassure Babe "Your a fucking treasure" he adds to his first statement. "I know...I just think you should go talk to him. See what's going on" he rubbed his neck looking down "He...ain't him..." He mumbles remembering the look on Johnny's face the unhinged anger, the pure unfiltered hate, the fire in his eyes, that was burned into Babe's mind and probably his nightmares too. "Yeah, ok I'll go see what's bugging him...thanks for letting me know" Bull ruffles Babe's hair before he headed out to find Johnny. "Your a national treasure babe" Bull smiles and set off on maybe one of longest find the angry little guy mission in his life. Bull first saw Speirs without fail carrying some shiny objects. "Hey, have you seen Johnny, five six, possibly punching Cobb in the face, he's very very angry" he explains Johnny Martin to Speirs who shook his head no and went on his mary little kleptomaniac way. Bull blinks and then giggles shaking his head continuing to walk looking around his head was on a swivel. Next he saw Jones, who was just arriving and he jogged over "Sorry to interrupt sir, but have you seen a five six, pissed off man with black hair, with murdery blue eyes?" He asks gaining a bit of worry, Jones tilt his head thinking back "No, sorry I haven't seen him, I just got here" Jones was now worried "Is he ok? Should I get a medic?" Jones asks ready to run "no, I just lost my tempermental...hellhoud of a boyfriend" Bull mutters walking away, continuing to hunt for the elusive Johnny Martin.

Meanwhile in the abandoned house Johnny was in the bathroom, just staring at himself in the mirror and he studied himself looking at what his anger did to him. He leans a little close with a sudden jerk back and then forward his forward collided with the mirror. Hearing the glass break was the most relieving sound to him, he watched the blood slowly ooze from his forehead as it dripped onto the white sink. It was a second of relief as he put his hands on the sink taking a deep breath as the anger came back, he started breathing angrily as Bull walks into the house looking around and headed to the bathroom. "Johnny, hey what happened?" Bull stood in the as Johnny turned to face him. "I'm too mad, too deal with you.." he growled and held his handkerchief to his forehead and sat down on the side of the tub. "Why are you so pissy, you hurt Babe's feelings" Bull sat down next to his boyfriend and tried to comfort him but was shrugged off. "Just leave me alone! Damn to hell!! Keep getting bothered by everyone when I just want to be left the fuck alone!" Johnny once again left someone stunned with his words, Bull was shocked he wasn't sure if he should go after Johnny or not but he could sure as hell feel the stress of this relationship now.

With this sudden stun, he went for advice to the only two people he knew wouldn't bullshit him and would tell him the 100% truth. Lipton was sitting on the couch coughing and helping Winters with some orders as Bull walks in. "Bull?" Winters squints and then raised a brow confused Bull need advice was kinda baffling to him. Bull stepped forward "Yeah...it's me...I got a doozy of a problem" he mumbles looking down ashamed that he had to ask for help. "What's up?" Lipton coughs covering his mouth and then looks over at Bull. "Johnny is really really angry...and I love him yes...but I can't get him to calm down like before" a silence fell over the as Lipton and Winters looked at each and then back at Bull and then back at each other. "Bull, my official opinion is...break it off with him or try your damnest to pull him out of this, show him that it's hurting you as well" Winters explains and watches Lipton nod and start coughing again as if he was on a timer. "Oh ok, yeah that makes a lot of sense... thanks for the help" Bull cracked a smile for a second and the it was gone as he had to go find Johnny again as if the first time wasn't hard enough the first time. Johnny was actually pretty easy to find this time he was leaning against a house eyes closed looking almost peaceful. Hearing footsteps he didn't move he was tired from his outburst "it hurts me when you get like this, when I can't help you. When you won't let me help you" Bull leans next to him and didn't give him a chance to talk "it hurts me seeing you hurt, seeing you slowly destroy yourself. When you destroy yourself it destroys me. I love you and I always will but you have to let me in more then you have"

Johnny stood quiet listening to every single word his eyes still closed and he nods slowly "Ok" his voice croaked as he slowly opens his eyes looking over at Bull "...Ok, I'll let you in more...it won't be easy for me but I love you. Even when I can't say it because of my own stubborn pain in the ass, I love you Denver" he smiles softly. "Yeah, I love you too John, come-on you have to say sorry to Babe, you broke his heart" he grabs Johnny's by his jacket and dragged him to where Babe was. "Do the right thing" he let go of Johnny.

Johnny slowly walked up to Babe who flinched a turned to Johnny fast. "Hey, I'm sorry for being a dick earlier you didn't deserve that. Your a good man, and a national treasure" Johnny smiles a little and Babe was smiling "Thanks Johnny" he nods slowly "means a lot to me" "Well I mean every word of it" "I know, I cherish that"