#but i do miss it because i didn’t really think and i just went numb and that feeling was easy

[picturesque-score]

my bed at school is so comfortable

[avocado-writing]

being the worst wolverine’s wife and one day you get zapped by the TVA for whatever reason, and it looks like you completely disappeared, this is what leads logan to become depressed, start drinking and ultimately ignore the x men when they die etc etc

he goes with wade purely bc he would if you were alive- he couldn’t give less of a shit about wade’s universe but he can feel you over his shoulder like an angel telling him he needs to do this (i imagine it’s like the jean hallucinations he had in the wolverine movie)

what if you’re in the void and he finds you with the rest of the group, like being unable to believe you’re really here?

hehe i love angst and ily avo <3

I already did a “Logan meets you in the void” fic here so I didn’t wanna make this too long or I’d just end up hitting the same beats!

1.4k. rated m for excessive use of the word “fuck”

The day you disappeared you took his fucking soul with him. 

You had been out shopping. Nothing weird about that, he wasn’t some overbearing husband who demanded to know your location every single hour. But then afternoon had turned into evening had turned into night and nobody had heard from you. The unfamiliar sensation of panic had risen, queasy, from his stomach into his chest. They sent out a search party and looked for days. Not a trace of you to be found. Logan couldn’t smell you. Fuck, he’d never not been able to smell you before.

He would hunt for you every day, hoping to find you alive but trying to level with the idea of you being cold and dead because at least then he’d have closure; he’d stay awake for hours on end until he collapsed from exhaustion… then he’d wake up and repeat the whole horrible affair. Nothing. After weeks of searching, Charles had laid a hand on his arm. Logan can still remember the look of pity on his face, like a bomb to the gut. 

“I’m so sorry, Logan.”

They had to assume you were abducted and killed. Your body never turned up. And Logan just had to… keep going. How was he meant to keep going? You were his entire fucking life and then you were just…

Gone. 

To say he was left empty was the biggest understatement of his fucking life. He was a shell of the man he once was. He never laughed any more, never smiled, always trying to plug the hole your absence left in him with whatever alcohol he could get his hands on. Drink himself to a place where he could forget you.

It never really worked. At least it made him numb to the pain though. 

When he staggers home one evening, eyes bleary and head spinning, and finds the whole mansion torched? Everyone left that he loved fucking dead? Well, it takes the last vestiges of his existence and crushes them into dust. 

Oh, Logan, he hears in the back of his mind. Your voice. It breaks him. He falls to his knees, hands buried in the burning timbers, and wails. 

He survives. He does not live. Thinking about everyone he’s lost, with you haunting the corners of his consciousness, always reaching out to comfort him - but when he goes to nuzzle into the warmth of your palm he is overcome with rage and bitterness to find it’s just his own imagination playing tricks on him. 

Then a fucking idiot in red dragged him away from the shambles which was his life and forced him to be functional again, if only barely. He’s angry, so angry all of the goddamn time, even when in the back of his mind he can hear you speaking sweet, calming words to him. 

And then he hears your voice for real. 

Sees you standing across the base this pathetic resistance has made. You look older, sure, he does too - but there’s no mistaking the fire in those eyes. You’re even wearing the same fucking shirt you went missing in, he remembers it, it has a picture of your favourite band. 

His heart stops dead in his chest as you whisper his name. 

“Logan?”

“Oh shit!” says Wade, and Logan has never wanted to kill him more, “Oh shit! Is this your refrigeratored wife, coming back to throw in a third act character arc?”

Logan finishes the bourbon bottle and throws the empty at Wade’s head, where it shatters and knocks him flat. You wince at the violence and he feels like pure shit. 

“I’m fine,” Wade calls from the ground, sticking a thumbs-up into the air. 

“Logan, I…” you clearly want to say something, but you have not been met with the Logan you knew. That Logan would have spent no time running to pick you up and hold you in his arms. This one half-snarls at the man he bloodied on the floor. 

There is an agonising silence, both of you wanting to speak but not being sure how. You take a hesitant step forward. 

“I never thought I’d…”

“How do I know it’s you?”

You recoil like he’s stabbed you with his claws, confusion and hurt flooding your face. Goddamn. He is the worst man alive. He’s not sure if he’s saying it because he just wants to lash out at the nearest person, or…

… or if, because he gets his hopes up, it might just kill him to have them crash down again. 

“What?”

“All these fuckin’ timelines. How do I know? How can I be sure that you’re you?”

The sadness in your face melts away into anger. When you step forward this time, you’re on the warpath. He sees the others in the room cringe, trapped now in this caustic reunion. 

“How can you be sure it’s me? Fuck, Logan, I knew it was you, didn’t I? What do you want? You want me to show you the shitty tattoo I got after we first started dating and we were both drunk?” You lift your sleeve to reveal a little design on your shoulder. “Want me to tell you how an eighteen-year-old Marie was my bridesmaid and she cried because she didn’t think anyone would ever be that kind to her after living as a mutant again? Want me to fucking remind you that in my vows I said I would be by your side, for fucking ever, no matter what - and how when that TVA agent zapped me when I was out for the day and I ended up here, it was only the thought of fulfilling those vows which kept me going? How about all that, or do I fucking need to humiliate myself more?” At this, you gesture to the others who have lined up at the side of the room, trying to look scarce but utterly failing. 

Your shoulders are heaving with emotions, tears hot and heavy in your eyes but not yet spilling over. Logan grits his jaw. Yeah. It’s you. 

“I…” he starts, but trails off when he realises there’s nothing he can say. You shake your head, numb. 

“Fuck you, Logan Howlett,” you spit, words you’ve never ever thrown his way before, and run out of the room. 

“Wow. Aced that one, peanut,” says Wade, and Logan rips off one of his legs. 

He finds you several hours later at a campfire outside the rundown building which makes up headquarters. LeBeau has clearly been kind enough to part with some of his liquor, because you’re gulping down whiskey like it’s air. You stare at him, embers dancing in bitter eyes. 

“What do you want?” you snap. He grunts as he sits down opposite you, either from age or exertion. Stares into the flames. 

“I never stopped looking,” he manages. 

You blink. 

“What?”

“I never…” he shifts uncomfortably. It’s been a long time since he bared this much of his soul. “I never stopped. Even when the others told me to give up, that I would only make it worse for myself, I’d still search. Couldn’t face the idea you weren’t there any more.”

It’s true. If he was twelve bottles deep he’d be looking, if he was hungover as a dog he’d be looking. When the rest of the X-Men were still there and even after they weren’t. If he wasn’t sitting at a bar he was on the streets, ever a bloodhound trying to catch your scent again. 

For the first time you soften. 

“Oh.”

“So… when I asked if it was you… ah, fuck. I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole. Just couldn’t live with it if it wasn't true. Wasn’t real.”

When you stand he expects a slap. He deserves it. What he doesn’t count on is you sitting down - not on the log next to him, but in his lap. He hasn’t felt you do that for so long, and it’s so good. Your warmth on his thigh. You grab one of his hands, still larger than yours, and press it to your chest so he can feel your beating heart. 

“I’m real, Logan. I’m right here, baby,” you whisper, eyes dewy. Fuck. His are as well; he can’t help it. He’s overwhelmed by you, your feel, your gaze, your smell. He’d forgotten how much he loved it. 

Logan noses upwards against you, searching for your lips, and you let him find them. When you stroke his hair he can feel the wedding ring on your left hand. The kiss is desperate, longing, and the best one he’s ever had. 

“Right here,” you repeat, forehead against his. He grips you so tightly that it’s possible he’ll never let go again. 

[haechoxo]

[9:58 pm]

haechan was a mess, the last encounter with you haunting his mind. no one had seen him in weeks, his self isolation driven by the humiliation and regret.

how’d he let it get this bad?

he’d ruined the one good thing he had going for him, the one thing that could've ever gone right in his life, gone.

he caused you so much pain, so much anguish, you were sick of him, quite literally. all for what? because he couldn’t admit he wanted to be yours?

it was his turn to make himself sick. walking down to the 7-Eleven for the fourth time this week to stock up on booze, he glanced out the storefront window as he waited for his transaction to complete, and spotted you, hand in hand with choi yeonjun, as you exited the bistro across the street.

it felt like a punch to the gut, a harsh reminder of what he lost. you deserved happiness, he knew that. but the thought of you finding it with someone else, while he suffered in his own misery, was almost too much to bear, he deserved this.

all haechan could do was sigh, grabbing his items and heading back to his apartment, a sort of walk of shame, as he dialed up minjeong.

“...hello? haechan? it’s almost 10 pm.” her deadpanned tone rang through the receiver.

“y-yeah… sorry,” he croaked. she was the first person to hear from him in a while, not that she of all people was worried. “just wondering if you were maybe free tomorrow, just to hang out… i guess.”

minjeong only sighed. “listen, haechan, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“o-oh, yeah, i guess… i guess you're right.”

“it’s not you! well– no, yeah, it is you,” ouch, “but we both know it just wouldn’t have worked out, right? you’re too focused on y/n, and we were both clearly just using each other as a distraction.” he could only listen as she went on, too afraid to say anything, to face the truth.

“the same reason you and i would never work out is the same reason mark and y/n won’t work out. we don’t have feelings for each other, haechan. it was never there.” he sucked in a breath.

“you gotta figure yourself out. we both know you can do better.” the line went dead.

haechan slumped against his front door, the weight of minjeong's words crashing down on him. the silence of his empty apartment echoed his loneliness, the low light from the streetlamp outside mocking him as he sat there. every sip of alcohol burned down his throat, but it didn’t numb the ache in his chest. the empty bottles around him were a testament to his attempts to drown out the guilt, but no amount could wash away the regret. he needed to change, to make things right, but where could he even start? he replayed your last conversation in his mind, your tear-streaked face, the hurt in your eyes. how had he been so blind?

unlocking his phone to scroll through his unopened messages, stumbling on his chats, or lack thereof, with you. they’d been dry, barren of any feelings for weeks. and it was his doing.

the unopened voicemails, mostly from jaemin about missing cafe dates and more of johnny’s parties, but there was a new one he hadn’t noticed before.

from mark.

hesitantly he pressed play, mentally bracing for the new lecture he was about to endure.

”hey man, uh— i’m not calling to apologize or anything, just so you know, i don’t feel bad for the things i said, neither does jun. i’m still really mad at you, we both are, but you're still our friend just as much as y/n is, even she’s a little worried, renjun told her not to be and i probably shouldn't have told you but whatever. the guys have been asking about you and no one really has an answer. uhm,” mark clears his throat, “jeno said he saw you outside 7-Eleven a couple nights this week already, smoking a new pack of cigarettes each time…” he sighs, pausing for a moment. haechan can feel the lump forming in his throat from the embarrassment.

“dude just because we ‘sided’ with y/n, doesn’t mean we don’t care about you and your well being anymore. obviously you feel stupid finally, and you clearly know you were wrong, but you’re going about things the wrong way, again. you can’t keep living like this, hurting the people you care about, hurting yourself, in the process.” he pauses for a bit, and haechan thinks maybe the message had ended like that, “whatever, uh, i don’t know what else i’m supposed to say bro, just let us know you’re okay, i guess, bye.” the beep signaling the end of the voicemail rings loudly against his ear, sighing shakily as he shut his phone off.

previous - next

a/n ; this one took waaaay longer than anticipated,, i just wasnt sure how well id be able to convey his feelings as well as mark’s lovely words since I HATE HIS STUPID ASS RN 💔

[sunkissedscribbles]

The Beach

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x poet!mentally ill!reader

genre: angst, a wee bit of fluff

tw: mental health issues, swearing

word count: 2008

summary: enzo comforts you when having a mentally rough period

a/n: my soul needed this one. i don't really want to label reader's mental state because in my mind bpd was the starting point but I think it would fit under the terms of depression as well, that's why I haven't specified it in the pairing (and because i'm not a specialist). also, it contains one of my poems I have not yet posted on my main.

playlist: The Beach - The Neighbourhood

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It hasn’t even been a month since the new school year started, only two weeks. Two weeks got you utterly exhausted, and even that was an understatement. It felt like you had forgotten to talk, taking a little too long to answer, to process things – to think. Your head felt heavy with emptiness, your entire body ached as it didn’t seem to be able to release stress, holding onto it deep in your bones, low in your back.

It wasn’t just fatigue, it was emotional and mental exhaustion that made you want to lie in bed all day, yet your sensible side made you get up every day and go to your classes.

Those damn lessons.

You went to all of them, tried to siphon in as much of each subject as you could but your mind was elsewhere all the time.

At how sick you were.

At how tired you were.

And in the afternoons you did nothing other than lie in bed, trying to convince your mind that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with you, and that you needed to study.

Just five more minutes.

Oops, It’s been ten minutes ago.

Anyway.

You’re gonna start studying at next-hour-o’clock.

You didn’t.

At dinner you were only pushing your relatively small portion of food back and forth on your plate, your mind foggy with very negative thoughts as the chatter of your friends next to you blurred into an indistinctive mess of different voices over your head.

You were silent,

and lethargic,

all the time.

It was after dinners when you lay in bed, hoping this was a phase or something you’d eventually get over. But in the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t.

And you didn’t really want to, either – you felt so down, so numb that you felt like you couldn’t move in the direction of getting better.

Not properly.

Not permanently.

Lying there, alone, you couldn’t think of anything better than causing your own pain, physically – at least you’d feel something, wouldn’t you? Even if it’d hurt – maybe you’d deserve it. Maybe you’d deserve it because you had spent your entire summer not doing anything valuable, pushed down these feelings of despair, hurt, pain, depression. You didn’t study saying you couldn’t pay attention and you were tired – of course you were when you kept staying up endlessly, only getting mere hours of sleep and not eating enough.

Maybe you did deserve to feel this way.

You missed the affection, just a hug at least, from your friends. But you have been so withdrawn from them and they were all beating around the bush, not knowing how to corner the question of your visibly deteriorating mental health.

It was Enzo though, who paid the most attention to you; he knew you like the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realised it. He cared about you, probably more than he should’ve. He’d known all your mood swings, and even when you had better days, he knew you were going to be just as down, if not even worse in just a matter of days.

He couldn’t bear seeing you like this, he missed the carefree, loving Y/N you were. He missed his Y/N. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his heart as your tone only made it obvious just how tired and ill you were. Every time he saw you scribbling into your notebook he knew contained your poetry his heart ached, even when it was just two words.

He knew you were starting to give it all up.

Life.

You didn’t cry, and that was obvious – you’ve never been one to cry much or cry immediately when something relatively bad happened, or when it was something that you took too personally, nor when one of the bandages you thought were securely protecting your wounds were ripped off, not suddenly but slowly to hurt even more as it stuck to the surface of your heart. No, you took it, held yourself together, trying to maintain the facade you built so well and perfected over the years of suffering from whatever game your mind was playing with you.

Because the more people knowing you’re hurt the more able to hurt you.

Because the more pain you show the less people will think of you.

Because the more you trust the more leaving you and hurting you in the end, the more betraying you.

You were more on the bottling-up side, but the bottle always spilt in the end when it couldn’t hold more.

More suffering, more floating, more silence, more pain.

So, two weeks after your seventh and last year at Hogwarts had started, here you were, writing a new poem in the Astronomy Tower.

I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace, you wrote the last two lines, the cool autumn breeze in your hair.

“Y/N?” Enzo’s voice echoed through your ears, and closing your notebook, you looked up at him. This was the day the bottle broke – you’ve been crying before writing your poem.

Startled by your red eyes, he looked at you with concern. “Y/N, were you crying?” he immediately crouched down in front of you, and as he took your face in his palms gently, you could feel the dam break again. You didn’t like this. No, you couldn’t be crying in front of him.

“Just, uh, tired,” you answered in a low tone, trying to convince him – or yourself, rather.

He looks down at the notebook and shakes his head, “Liar. Let me see.”

You hesitated – how could you possibly show him what you were feeling? It took you weeks to be able to put it into words, and it’s not too happy. “Please,” he asked softly, one hand caressing your cheek, the other reaching down for the notebook in your lap. And you let him, knowing he’d get what he wanted anyway.

You saw his facial muscles twitch and tense up as he read its title, his hand falling off your face: ‘goodbye.’

His eyebrows knotted in a frown at first, glancing up at your once lively eyes, now missing the bright, pure shine they used to have.

You watched as his expression became sad and even more concerned as he breezed through your lines written.

these lines; I plan them to be the last ones I write and speak, so that I can be free in a world where pain doesn’t exist, where no clouds disfigure the sky. I go tonight; I don’t regret and don’t look back, I’m not afraid to leave anymore, I give up the fight, I end the war. i lie down tonight and drift to sleep, I unite with nature forever, and release the built-up hurt and pain. I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace.

“Y/N, you–” he shook his head as he lifted his head again, meeting your eyes. But you, you couldn’t look into his, you felt like you’d break immediately. You were afraid of what emotion would look back at you. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? Or would he look at you differently?

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking your head, keeping it hanging low.

He cupped your face again to make you meet his gaze, gently yet forcefully tilting your head upwards. His eyes, as always had that caring look in them, mixing with concern, and a sense of fear that he’d lose you washed over him.

He’d lose you, before it was nature’s job to cross your path together, before he could even confess to you.

“...Why haven’t you told me?” he asked in a low, broken voice. Fuck, he couldn’t lose you.

You couldn’t answer him at first – how could you tell him that you’d been feeling like shit for weeks again? That the longer you’re alive the less you’re living? The more days you survive the more of your want to live, and the more of your shine you lose. you took a long breath and with a tremble tugging at your lips, you shook your head while a stray fat tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/N, darling…” he pulled you in for a hug and as his arms enveloped you tightly, your salty tears started raining down your cheeks again, lading on the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m sick…” you sob into his chest, not able to hold anything back anymore, not in front of him as your fists clutch the fabric on his back. “And I’m tired too.”

You weren’t fireproof, that was for a fact, and he knew it too, probably better than anyone. You didn’t want to burn in your own flames but you felt it, felt it burning you and spread over onto him, burning him too. You were holding on to him for dear life, hoping your own miserable state of mind wouldn’t murder you.

“...I hope I don’t burden you,” you trembled against his body and he held you tighter.

“You could never,” he assured you, shaking his head. “Never, honey. You’re not a burden.”

You didn’t need to say much, he’d known almost everything already. He just held you tight against him, as if you could just slip away and disappear if he wouldn’t – and the truth is, you could’ve, especially in this state. And you kept gripping his hoodie as you slowly calmed down in his arms, while his heartbeat gave yours a soothing rhythm to follow. 

You were slowly coming to your senses that felt numb all this time – his cologne was a nice mix of sandalwood and citrus which filled your nostrils and made you feel at home, even more at ease, his touch warm and soothing under your sweater, rubbing your skin through the thin layer of your shirt, his voice sending your mind into a state of contentment as he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like. You’d been friends for a long time and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two have built up over the years.

Then the three little words left his lips involuntarily; “I love you.”

You felt him stiffen against you as the realisation that he indeed said that out loud hit him, and coming down from your surprise, and trying to control your rapid heartbeat, you lift your head from his chest and meet his eyes. How could he love an emotional wreck like you?

“Y-you what?” you asked as if you hadn’t heard it right.

He gulped, trying to swallow his fear of rejection before repeating his words, “I said I loved you,” he led his hands onto your waist under your sweater as you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, but kept drawing you in lightly.

Without any further hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, afraid this was only a dream, hence wanting to enjoy every second of it and take it to the fullest.

His lips were so soft and moved so in sync with yours, and you wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, wrapped in his embrace, with your lips connected, your tongues dancing around, making your mouths a ballroom, available for only them.

You pulled back just to come up for air and to clarify one thing. “I love you too.”

Your words sent a jolt of electricity and happiness down his spine, and he leaned his forehead against yours before reassuringly whispering to you, “I’m not leaving. We’re in this together and you can count on me, anytime, anywhere. Just- don’t shut me out. Please… I need you here with me.”

You nodded against his skin and let out a heavy sigh. You knew it would be a long way, a really deep dive. But until it was him swimming with you it didn’t matter that you were out in the open. It wasn’t a sudden light, a newfound wave of relief taking you out to the shore, but the beach seemed closer than ever. 

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare

[dreamwritersworld]

Disconnected… (sully family x reader)

this was inspired by 2 requests sent in so please enjoy! I didn’t link the two requests just cause I didn’t want to spoil it before you read so thank you! 💞

Y/n Sully. I was a happier child…until that light was pulled away and burnt out.

*five year old Y/n*

There was one too many moment where Jake had compared her to her older siblings…

Jake had pulled Y/n by her ear to listen to his words clearly about how she had to heal and be as good as Kiri..

Y/n walked into a separate room clearly in distress while Kiri was calmly sitting down beading a bracelet but she could sense something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“…father keeps saying that I have to be like you but I’m not you.”

Y/n didn’t even give Kiri a chance to talk she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make her feel better…not even a few moments after both sisters heard their mother talking to another Navi and that just made Y/n more upset.

“Kiri is the most beautiful child ever! We were given her so sudden and I always say to her, Eywa gave me you.”

Whats the softest way to say…you took away my passion…my happiness…what’s the kindest way to say?..you took away my spark.

-*

I had so much potential, had I just been brought up differently given the correct corrections and encouragement I would’ve been something…something meaningful.

*6 year old Y/n*

“Y/n! Hold the knife correctly! Look at the way your brother is holding it! Why can’t you just be smart? Think!”

Y/n was too young to even start early training but…he made her anyways, said “with her like that, she needs at least two years of early training! She needs to think smarter.”

The little girl was buried deep into training when all she wanted to do was continue making friendship bracelets for people…she was such a sweet little girl.

Every time Jake yelled, stood by, or ever so slightly glanced at her she felt slightly scared…it always felt like he didn’t care. Truth was Jake was reckless with her feelings..he didn’t care about how the outcome of his actions would reflect on the young child.

-*

Now I just sit in the comforting silence of the forest.

*8 year old Y/n*

There was one day when I was genuinely scared…terrified of the man yelling in my face..grabbing me, all because I failed at aiming correctly that day..but it was only because he made me stay up the entire night before practicing.

“Why can’t you just think kid?!”

He was pushing for words to come out as tears build up in my eyes.

“You were awful today!”

My own father could sleep peacefully in the fact that he was destroying me. It made him mad, my silence spoke louder than words..anger he wanted to come out of me. All of the sudden a full hand slapped my cheek.

My heart missed multiple beats when I realized what had just happened. That’s the moment I went numb to his actions, I quickly got up..wiped away my tears and went off to train without him. If someone were to ever hit me the way he did that day, I wanted to be ready.

-*

I was dragged through the mud, what’s more to be scared of..? I don’t need them or anyone.

I don’t speak much to anyone…they don’t try speaking to me either so I guess in a way I settled.

*9 year old Y/n*

Jake’s treatment towards Y/n was like whiplash. One second he’d give her slight hope it was ok and then the next second he’d crumble her to pieces.

He put Kiri and Y/n to healing and she was doing really well, until a hard week hit her.

“Y/n. You went from first…to worst in one whole practice! You need to do better, when will you get it?”

All siblings watched as Y/n curled herself in, hiding her head once he left.

They were sad to say they noticed how as the years went by Y/n no longer talked to them…to anyone. Yet all siblings turned a blind eye..maybe it was temporary?

-*

It doesn’t mean that i stay by myself all alone and do nothing, no absolutely not I enjoy adventure, hanging onto life by a thread…

*10 year old Y/n*

I actually used to have a good friend I knew for a short amount of time but sadly…she died. She didn’t know a thing about survival but it was because her father refused to teach her. So I taught her, but i wish I did it sooner, maybe if I did she would’ve lived…

It happened just moments after I taught her how to shoot a gun, she found hidden away.

“You want to see what i found?…will you show me how to use it?”

I was conflicted and confused because i had only learned briefly just once

“Ok…but it is not a toy.”

“I know!”

She pointed the gun up to a random tree turning to me asking what she would do.

“The most important thing is when you go to shoot, take a breathe before you hit the trigger.”

Tílí took this hilarious big breathe, exaggerating it.

“What should I shoot?”

Tílí was so…inexperienced, so much that That she didn’t even know you couldn’t wave around the gun. So I crouched and panicked the moment she aimed it at me unknowingly.

“Don’t do that!”

“I-I’m so sorry i- im sorry!”

Tílí immediately put the gun away but i didn’t even look…i looked at the forest searching for where the walking sounds came from.

“…Tílí..let’s go now.”

I yanked onto her hand and ran, hiding in an old lab, as we ran i could hear the man’s voice,

“Come out! Where ever you are!”

..we weren’t allowed to be in that part of the forest but I followed because she said she wanted to show me the gun.

We both sat down listening to the man whistling…this outsider must’ve been left behind when they were supposed to leave pandora, or perhaps this was the start of them coming back. Adrenaline raced through me that day…I was just a kid.

“I need you to listen to me. we have to go now…are you listening?”

Tílí just sat there, staring at the floor, and scared to move. When I reached out for her again she started talking louder.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Daddy, I’m scared!”

It seemed as though she was stuck in time…like she believed her father would come right that moment, he made her so dependent..so scared.

“Snap out of it, Tílí!..please!”

My brain fogged up believing I wouldn’t be able to save her, I began to get scared. My head turned to the whistling getting closer and then i did what I believed was best..

“Move!”

Tílí felt my hand slap her across the face..and then she rushed up, I got her out first by holding her up to reach the skylight on the roof and then pulled myself up..as soon as we jumped off we ran but the man didn’t fail to notice us.

I ran with her but when we passed she had fallen and so did the gun but…the man shot her in the arm

“Get up Tílí! You have to trust me, I got you!”

Tílí screamed in pain as I yanked her up, catching the gun, and ran. The man was taking his time in catching us..he knew I wouldn’t want leave her…

She had no chance though, her speed was slower but I had to drag her, it left me no time to make turns so the man wouldn’t have a direct area to shoot. I didn’t even have time to hide us so I could kill him then..He had shot her in the chest.

“No don’t- Y/n! Daddy!!”

“No! Tílí!”

I instantly turned back and hid shooting the man from getting closer…my body went tense as I walked closer to Tíli, her body was shaking and hyperventilating.

“No, please Tílí! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Your my best friend…I’m sorry.”

I stayed in the forest crying, left with her body.

-*

That trauma didn’t go unnoticed. Mo’at could see that something was wrong with Y/n. It terrified her to see her grandchild’s downfall, she knew that Y/n would one day turn her back on her father for training and giving her pain so many years. Y/n wouldn’t let anyone even touch or stand by her…Mo’at wasn’t even an exception, no matter how much she wanted to heal those little wounds on her grandchild’s rough fingers and knees from training. She could see the pain Y/n was working through, the back pain from constantly doing tricks in training…suppose it was the reason Y/n was the best but it doesn’t mean it’s ok.

Y/n had been sitting on the floor, making medicine while Mo’at observed her…Neytiri walked in the room with medicine Kiri made from home.

“Kiri made some medicine for healing, mother.”

Mo’at hushed Neytiri and pulled her to the side, still keeping an eye on Y/n.

“We must talk..”

“About?”

“Y/n-“

“Oh mother please, no need to worry about that child she-she’s fine. She remains happy at home as well.”

“Really? If that were true, that child would feel safe enough to make medicine from home.”

“Mother. You cannot possibly be insinuating that-“

“Shh. It’s just Y/n, there’s something cold behind her eyes…”

Mo’at walked away leaving Neytiri wondering…she too watched Y/n while she unpacked the medicine Kiri was making from home…

After helping grandmother I had stayed out a little but I only came back late five minutes after eclipse and brought back food that I hunted for. I could feel him and his stares..how he was so fixated on me and what i was doing now that he wasn’t playing ‘olo’ekytan’.

“You staying out late again?! I already told you, your forbidden from staying out! You think bringing food back home will make it better?!”

I couldn’t listen. My hand automatically dropped the food off by my mother and I immediately walked back out the home entering the forest, too annoyed to deal with him…he didn’t stop though.

My feet walked faster, heart began beating louder and my eyes just kept looking forward, not turning back.

“You come back here right now. I mean it Y/n stop!”

I couldn’t..for the first time in a long time..i just wanted to stop, to look him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, You’re-“

Sometimes my mind just fogs up and forgets my morals…just like him. I turned right around, banging my hand into a tree just to push him to listen.

“Stop! I’ll walk home sir just- stop.”

He continued mumbling words, yanking me by the ear, i allowed it…im not at my break point just yet. As we entered the home he threw me onto my hammock and i just accepted it, staring at the sky…the other thing about numbness is that it kinda collapses time…suddenly i find my whole days blending together creating this endless and suffocating loop, training is all I do…

“Dinners ready!”

My transit stopped and i got up slowly, sitting in my little corner. There was never space at our dinner area for me..so I just ate alone. Then i did my chores as normal, slowly walked up to my bed sighing at the fact that i didn’t have the warmth everyone else did. Mother seemingly forgot to request a new blanket for me and I didn’t make enough time to craft items to trade something in for it..so I’ll settle on the rough blanket with seeking holes.

The next day I was told to do hunting with Neteyam in the forest…we didn’t talk much, which made it easier for us to hear outside noises..Then a man came but wasn't normal navi, he was an avatar and he held a gun, seemingly scare almost like he got lost.

"Shoot 'em"

Neteyam couldn't pull the trigger, but I didn't have the patience and i shot the man in the leg...then the hip.

I walked slowly to him.

Neteyam slightly tugged on me to just walk away and not interfere...but i just couldn't…something was wrong.

"Cmon let's go."

“Shut up Neteyam.”

He was annoyed but he just didn’t understand what the situation was so I kicked the man repeatedly until he was begging me..and when he did I asked some questions.

“Who are you with? You are not normal Navi.”

Then he spitted in my face mumbling about him swearing and being loyal, I shot him in the head with my arrow.

“Idiot.”

We walked away in silence but i can tell In his face what i had just done bothered him..he’ll get over it though right? He’s supposed to be the strongest warrior. The noises weren’t done..we could hear our siblings voices as we walked away. Neteyam called for our parents but i couldn’t stay put like he did.

Neteyam was behind a tree ready to shoot an arrow but he hadn’t realized a soldier approaching so I jumped down from the branch stabbing repeatedly into the man’s neck quick to make it silent..i hid once again when I saw a soldier head our way..he hadn’t noticed the body, just grabbed Neteyam, snapping his bow into half.

I began killing all 3 soldiers around hidden in the trees pointing guns at my siblings who were on their knees.

My eyes landed on the two fallen guns and i shot 6 while they blindly shot in a panic…i didn’t see anyone else, my siblings had ran into my parents arms. I was covered in blood..fixated on two missing soldiers…

Quaritch watched from a far, he could see Y/n held zero mercy…she was the one who shot their soldier who got lost in the forest. If she was so cold…he’d be able to get to her, get through her head.

He made sure the soldier beside him stood up first, aiming a gun at Y/n and then he shot him…setting up a scene of him “protecting her”.

Y/n held her gun to him…but for a minute she seemed in awe, she was stuck in time..she felt like she knew who this man was, somehow and in some way she heard stories about him when she was listening to her parents conversations…as did he. The reason he knew about Y/n was because before they were sent back to the forest, they discussed the little information they knew about the sully family, Y/n sully being one of them. In all honesty he hoped he’d walk into her, she was a kid who he believed could easily be ended or manipulated, because Jake never loved her, no one did. Hints why back at the fort they referred to her as the ‘the child with no love’.

If he got her on his side, he’d be unstoppable and be able to kill her father with zero hesitation. He knew he needed her trust first so he dropped his gun, left himself defenseless.

“I won’t kill you kid. Those soldiers that you just killed, well I wish it was different I do but they were weak of will and character.”

Y/n was patient this time…this man wanted to actually listen and talk to her but then again she didn’t care, he held let them hold a gun to innocent peoples heads.

“You know what I wish? I wish I had killed you too. I still can.”

“Yet you haven’t, you think any of those soldiers would have the balls to say something like that. There’s no way you could’ve lasted this long by yourself, otherwise.”

He was wrong because Y/n was brutal when she had to be. But Quaritich seems to take the brutal mindset Y/n had to the furthest extreme. However what Quaritch does goes far beyond being brutal he was just ruthless ..And no one who is ruthless deserves to live. Y/n still let the man go on..trying to pick her poison.

“We’re more alike than you think. In fact I think you realize it…but you’re not comfortable with it yet.”

That’s where Y/n ended it she shot him in the leg, aimed right by his lungs…and then her bullets ran out. Jake was watching from afar…he saw the entire conversation…on his way back he saw the bodies on the floor with multiple stab wounds, and he watched how she walked up to him with a knife. Then..he was spotted by Quaritch.

“Jake-“

“Y/n! I’ll handle him. You don’t need to do that.”

Quaritch chucked at the oblivious father.

“That girl’s already seen more than you can imagine.”

Y/n turned to her father, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. That’s not your decision.”

“Atta girl, she ain’t afraid to look me in the eye like you Jake. You know that feeling you got right now? That's what makes you stronger than the rest of them kid….”

Y/n knew his words were true..but she was getting annoyed at the man who was repeatedly talking..letting all her thoughts out to her father..so she stabbed him in the neck, Repeatedly. Jake watched in horror, it was then that he realized he stabbed her in the back repeatedly as well…he made her a killing machine. She disconnected with the world more than usual and she didn’t even feel affected by it.

Everything felt slow..metal from the knife clinging with the soiled floor..blood covering her body. Y/n looked at her father, she wanted him to see her and the gore she created.

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

!💓!

Fun facts!

Kiri was making friendship bracelets at the age Y/n wasn’t allowed to!

Tílí was a reflection of what Y/n would’ve been if she hadn’t grown up quicker.

I didn’t show much of happier Y/n because her memories would be very faded from that time..she started to grow faster at age 5.

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir r @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @kodzukenwhore @minkyungseokie

[diacripticcomplex]

~Shu x Yui One Shot~

"That looks horrible on you." I bluntly say to her, I'm lying of course, she was the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and demon world but I will never confess that to her. She looks at me and frowns, I enjoyed that frown. "What's wrong with it?" She questioned, which caused me to smirk at her slightly, I let out a chuckle before saying "Nothing, I just prefer you with little to no clothing at all." This causes her to blush, her eyes widen and her vision revert to the floor. My hand shoots up to grab her delicate face, I could crush it so easily, I lift her head up and look right at her with my cold eyes, this beautiful girl..she's all mine, I wouldn't give her to nobody, I'd do unspeakable things for her. She pulls her face away and pushes me back. "No Shu..We can't, I can't keep making this mistake over and over again..you left me when I needed you most..you hurt me in so many ways.." she goes on saying, and the memories of that night came flooding back to me.

We were arguing again over this plan to leave the mansion and be together in the demon world, I told her I would not be able to protect her from all the creatures, assassins and my brothers wraiths..I didn't want to deal with that responsibility or even that loss..so I decided that night to let her go..well I tried to, truly did but it was impossible for me, every part of me yearned for her, and wanted to be next to her, I avoided her as long as I could. But for some reason I still thought of her, what she was doing…who she was with..her scent was always fresh in my nostrils as well, no matter how long I went without seeing her…her scent lingered. “You’re breaking up with me??” She looked at me with so much sorrow in her eyes. I remember how she wept and begged for me to reconsider, her begging honestly annoyed me, I just wanted to get this over with..thinking back I was rather harsh, she genuinely loved and cared for me but I threw it all away because I wasn’t ready to take responsibility for her..I wasn’t ready to be the man for her.

“Shu I don’t want to be with you…I can’t” she says snapping me out of my head. Honestly upsetting me greatly but I guess that’s deserved. “Yes you can..and you will” I whisper to her before lightly kissing her neck, “you’re still mine” I say as I greedily suckle on her skin, my fangs grazing her flesh then piercing it. I missed this delicious blood. She cries out at first then moans into it, panting out for me to stop hurting her, I cover her mouth with one hand and use my other hand to grope her butt, going lower I begin stroking her sensitive spot, she was whimpering at this point, begging for me to leave her alone, I didn’t want to…

She’s so wet for me…I know she wants this too. Fingering her wasn’t enough I wanted our bodies and souls to be connected once more. I rammed my way inside of her, thrusting deeply and passionately, I was really putting in my energy into her, I looked at her face as I was fucking her she was crying so much…I take it out of her then embrace her tightly. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry I’m an idiot..I should’ve loved you correctly and been there for you when you needed me most..I know I’m a coward and you don’t deserve a coward..let me become the man you want..” I propose to her, but she looks at me with such numb eyes and says one thing and one thing only, no…

[punkzines]

flashback

part 1 || part 2

summary: you were drowning but were saved.

a/n: this is actually really bad. but i wanted to show ya’ll how godzilla and reader met frfr.

You couldn’t breathe.

How long was it, since you took your last, deep breath?- Please let me breathe- Only the salty cold water entered your lungs, you were drowning. They filled up with water so fast yet so painfully slow- you could feel it. You were about to die, you knew it. There was no point in fighting it anymore. You were weak- someone help me.

The ocean currents were unforgiving, harsh. They didn’t care that you had a whole life ahead of you. You were at its mercy. You moved and moved like a ragdoll, you were not in control. You never were. And you could barely hear the screams of the others who are in the same position as you, or you may be hallucinating their screams, they could be dead! Or maybe you are dead, and your death is just replaying and replaying and replaying-

A big wave had hit your boat - where is that damn boat- a wave of bad luck but your birthday did always bring that type of thing, didn’t it? You had a feeling that this would happen. Nevertheless, you’d been on this big boat, a party! And it was sunny! Fuck, fuck, fuck- There were a lot of people, people who you didn’t know about, strangers. I hope they survive- Your family hadn’t come either, since you lived pretty far away from them. You were supposed to go meet them next week to celebrate your special day.

Seems like they were coming to meet you instead, huh? They’ll never find your body though.

And now, here you were— falling deep into the depths of the ocean, time passed in a blur. You could feel yourself slipping, your lungs heavy, and the pain was beginning to blur out. Maybe the pain was too great to even feel at this point. Who knows, you’ve probably gone numb. You couldn’t even register what was happening anymore.

What was it? Oh yes, death! You were dying. Slowly.

Oh and your pet? What will they do? Will they miss you? It was home, all alone it pained you to think that it would think you left them. I love you, I love you, I-

Dying wasn’t for the faint of heart. But, you never really cared for death. I don’t want to die- You never really cared if you died and you were never scared of it. I don’t want to die- Why- no, how could you be? It was inevitable, and you’ve been around it millions of times. You’ve witnessed it. I don’t want to die- You’ve witnessed wild animals getting killed, plants get killed, humans getting killed.

Everything eventually dies, so instead of finding death scary, you find comfort in it. I’m dying- Somehow though, you wish things had played differently. But…Knowing you were not alone, that you weren’t the only one dying is…nice. I’m sorry-

Dying…is….

You finally feel the darkness set in.

Everyone knew of the monster that swam in the waters and rose to the land when there was a disturbance or simply to rest up there- how could they not? It never went unnoticed.

His body was strong, that the strong deadly waves did not have an effect on him. He illuminated the darkness, and displayed a clear view of the dead bodies. He had heard the disaster and decided to take a look, although it was unnecessary because there was no one alive at the scene- until he heard it, a beat.

A human heart, although faint and weak, he could still hear it.

And then- he spots them, the body diving deeper into the depths of the ocean. Unmoving.

Strangely, you’d been woken up by a severe coughing fit. Water poured out of you, and it was uncontrollable. You moved to your side instinctively, grasping at your heart. You really couldn’t stop until you did- which is when you fell back onto the…sand?

Something prickly was sticking itself to you, you think.

…

It hurts to think.

It hurt to feel.

And it really hurts to breathe.

And your eyes hurt to even open. You still opened them because despite everything, you were still a human and were caught off guard. Not that you knew that.

And you begin to regret opening your eyes, because the blinding light of the sun hurts, even if you saw everything through a blurred lens. And your eyes wandered lazily as you still coughed.

And your eyes landed on a specifically odd structure, maybe a rock? It was close to you, loomed over you. But you couldn’t really tell what it was, and you certainly couldn’t keep your mind focused on it because—

— Everything ached.

What had happened, you did not know.

You couldn’t muster up the strength to move, nor the strength to even- soon, the world around you faded into darkness as you slipped into unconsciousness once again.

───────────────────────

a/n: anyways anyone think Godzillas gay?

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

[Not] Guilty Part 2

Part 1 

A few people expressed interest in this becoming a series. I had a storyline for it when I made the first ‘chapter’. I do warn you guys though I will probably be slow to post. I have a hard time when I feel like I have to write the next chapter of something. Not to mention I am currently packing (and procrastinating packing by writing) to move from Michigan to Tennessee for my new post-grad job!  

This is not a spoiler because I hinted heavily (told you really) at it at the end of the first chapter, but I did want to warn everyone- this has the ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY TROPE. For those of you who do not like those stories, you have been warned. The case is mentioned in this story but is not its main focus, but what will become of the reader and Sonny’s relationship. (I may change the name because it implies otherwise.)  

Warnings- mentions of sex abuse, physical abuse, prison violence, suicide and accidental pregnancy trope (just in case you missed it ^)

Thank you for reading that really long author's note <3

The breakup should be harder on you. It was the longest relationship you had been in. The nervousness you had felt when you had crept up to the six-month marker and the kiss of death to every relationship you had ever had. It had come in like a lion, with you causing fights waiting for the inevitable, and out like a lamb when Sonny realized what the problem was. He had maturely communicated that he had no intent in letting you go. It had been smooth sailing for the most part after that. The relief you had felt when it all just seemed to work out. You guys were just a few weeks away from the year mark.  

The end was as abrupt as your cousin Randy’s arrest. The betrayal of Sonny going after him without any regard to you. Then the attempted railroading from him to you of Randy’s guilt. The whole thing had left you cold and numb.  

You knew Dominick Carisi was a good lawyer and now he could be the one to put Randy away for life. On a charge you were sure he didn’t commit. You hadn’t seen him much since the day you refused to let him into your apartment. You only saw him during court proceedings or meetings with him and Randy’s defense lawyer. Not that he hadn’t tried. He had called, texted, and stopped by your apartment frequently during the first few weeks. You were sure he thought that you were just overacting and that you would come to see the light of your cousin’s misdoings. Process and then accept what was going on. The only difference was you knew deep in your soul that your cousin wasn’t guilty. You wouldn't let anyone railroad you into thinking anything differently.  

Not even a man you loved. 

You had been actively avoiding him and any emotion that he provoked. You tried to ignore that you were a hot mess. The stress and emotional strain caused constant fatigue and churning in your stomach which had a tendency to make you sick. You had been trying to take care of everything for the case and still work overtime to continue paying your bills and for Randy’s pricy lawyer. You had even tried to get the money to bail Randy out, but Sonny had asked for an outrageous bond that even combined your working-class family couldn’t afford. You had tried to make up for it by putting money in his commissary and visiting once a week. Randy assured you he was okay, but it didn’t help make you feel better. Especially, when you saw the black eye and cut lip on your last visit.  

Today was court and it was Randy’s turn to testify. You sat there in support of him and tried not to wince or shift uncomfortably as years of family secrets were let loose in open court. It was to help show Randy’s character the lawyer had explained. It was smart but you didn’t have to like listening to it.  

Randy testified to his mental health issues. His bipolar that left him manic and on top of the world one day and then so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed the next. He went on to talk about the sexual and physical abuse he had received at the hands of his own father. How he had used substance to numb himself. He was in tears when he talked about how he could never hurt someone like he had been hurt. He would rather put a bullet in his head.  

He had tried to skirt around the question about his uncle. But when he was pressed, he talked about how he had witnessed the brutal murder of his father at his uncle's hands when he had found out and then watched his uncle be arrested and put in prison. How he had been put on multiple 72-hour psych holds in the years following. Listening to it all was hard and made you want to curl up in a corner and sob. It was heartbreaking to listen to. Randy looked and sounded believable- like a victim himself who deserved empathy.  

Sonny turned in his seat to look at you. You were only able to maintain eye contact for only a few seconds. It had been long enough to see the understanding in his eyes. The almost audible clicking of all the puzzle pieces of your life that you dodged around or refused to talk about when you were together were finally coming together for him. You could also see the frustration at you not being honest with him and him being blindsided in open court. 

When recess was called until Monday you had to keep yourself from running out of the courthouse and instead force yourself to walk at a normal pace. You couldn’t face any of the SVU detectives that you were once close to. You hear your name called and your body freezes without your permission. A Staten Island accent thickened with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You can’t even turn back to look at him. You feel exhausted as you say. “You didn’t want to listen.” 

≪ °❈° ≫ 

You return to court four days later, and there is something strange brewing in the courtroom. You can feel it in the air. You can see it. There is no jury and the courtroom is empty. The rest happens in a blur. ADA Dominick Carisi stands up and tells the judge they had found further evidence over the weekend and they wanted to drop all charges, except for possession. They offered a deal on time served. You felt the tears rush down your face in disbelief. 

You find yourself in the hallway and a hand touches your shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Olivia Benson. “For what it is worth, I’m sorry.” Her face is sincere but all you could hear in your mind was the echoing of her words to you of his guilt and how it was normal to be in denial. It could take a while for your mind to be able to comprehend that someone you know, and love is capable of such malicious intent. “For all the trouble and for all this has cost you.” Even in your haze, you knew she wasn’t talking about the money you had put into Randy’s defense. “With his DNA in her apartment and on that blunt we really thought-” 

“Sharing weed with a woman doesn’t mean you're going to rape and kill her.” Your words are bitter and distant even to your own ears. 

“Of course not,” Olivia paused gathering her thoughts. 

“What happened? What did you guys find?”  

“Well, we went back over the timeline. We had a hard time believing Randy because when we interviewed him, he didn’t even know where he had been for most of the night.” You knew he had been hopped up on some pretty strong stuff that night. “Do you know the cemetery a couple of blocks from where we arrested him?” You felt like a bolt of lightning had struck through you. You did in fact know it. It was where his older brother had been buried after he committed suicide at twenty. “There was a security camera there that had been installed because of some teenager destroying headstones. It shows Randy there hours before Mary Moore’s death to hours after it. He slept there all night actually.” 

You huff out a laugh. Thomas was Randy’s older brother by almost ten years. He, out of the three sons, had taken the worst of the abuse from their father. He had protected Randy and the youngest David until the moment he had ended it all, but it seemed even death couldn’t stop him from protecting his younger brother. 

You see Randy getting released, a bag of belongings in his hand and you start to head over to him completely forgetting that you had been in a conversation with the detective. You are only reminded when you hear her voice raise slightly as she says, “You know, Carisi is the one that started looking back at the timeline. He is the reason this case was dropped.” You freeze feeling something twist in your stomach. An emotion that you don’t want to deal with in this happy moment. 

“It doesn’t change anything.”  

You stride to Randy’s side and hug. You weren’t allowed to touch him when you were visiting him in lockup. He clings to you burying his face into your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much for never giving up on me.” You hug him tighter feeling your own tears roll down your cheeks.  

≪ °❈° ≫ 

You were sitting back at the apartment curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket as Randy was spending an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. You smiled to yourself, just happy that he was home. Even if he was back to crashing on your couch. He joined on the couch, hair still wet from his shower. He leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. The two of you sat in silence processing all that had happened in the last four months.  

“I found a rehab program when I was locked up. It focuses on people with mental health issues like my bipolar. I called and they said they had a spot open for me. Someone ran out. Good luck, huh?” You laugh shaking your head.  

“Good to know you still have your positivity streak.” You lay back feeling absolutely exhausted. You had been having a fatigue that just wouldn’t go away. “I think it's a good idea though. It would be good for you to get that settled. Your being off and on your meds hasn't been helping. I just want you to be happy, and have a real chance at the life you deserve.”  

“Yeah, I know. I hope you know I appreciate everything you have done for me. Everything that you have had to sacrifice.” You say his name, but he cuts you off, “No, really Chickadee. All these years, you didn’t have to do any of it. Without you, I would have been dead or locked up three times over by now.” You reach out and start running your finger through his hair. “It’ll probably be good for you to have to space anyways.” 

“I don’t mind you sleeping on my couch.” You assure him. 

“I know, but with you being pregnant and all. I’m sure you-” 

“I’m sorry about me being what?” Randy doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Oh, come on Chickadee. I know you were trying not to make a big deal out of it because of everything that was going on but-” You shake your head at him, laughing. 

“Randy, I’m not pregnant.” The finality in your voice makes him turn his position to face you more fully. He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you sure about that?” His tone is one of disbelief as he eyes your form. You smack his shoulder saying his name loudly. “Well, I would check into that, anyhow. You know with the fatigue, upset stomach, morning sickness, and with how big those things have gotten.” He gestures to your breast with a wave of his hand.  

You look down at them and feel your mind starting to spiral as you try to think of the last time you had a period. You bite your thumb as you realize it was before the case had started. While it wasn’t uncommon for you to skip when you were stressed out, that was a considerable amount of time. “Alright, I’m kicking you out of my bed. I haven’t had a good night's sleep in almost four months.” Randy didn’t seem to notice your mind spinning. He thought that you were still just messing around with him. He had no idea the can of worms he had just opened in your head. 

You stood up numbly as he started making the couch his makeshift bed. Then flopping onto it with a content sigh. You say nothing as you go to grab your purse and head toward the drug store a block over.   

[mistkisbiggestfan]

TADC + Pomni, romantic / Jester! Fem! Reader

Pomni (romantic), TADC (platonic) / Jester! Reader HC

A/n: Back on the grind we go!! REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!

Summary: You're stuck in the digital circus with a jester as your avatar like Pomni, but you're and actual circus performer. Words: 2174 Rquest: Nope!

You were in the digital circus before her, before Kaufmo’s abstraction you and him were like a circus duo. Unlike others you two actually fitted the “circus” atmosphere, he told jokes and you performed tricks. 

You were one of the people who were stuck the longest, being in the circus longer than Ragatha, maybe a bit less than Kinger. 

You still remember Queener, after her abstraction, and before Kinger’s descent into total madness he told you at least one time per day.: “I miss my wife Y/N. I miss her a lot.” And then he proceeded to shriek suddenly at your sight, you knew he was really losing it.

But oh well! Not like you were the most mentally there either.

Yet you and Kinger talked a lot, surprising? Maybe. You two really fit with each other as he was the king and you – the jester. When Queener was still around you were always third wheeling on their dates (They didn’t have the heart to tell you to go away for even a second).

And so people came and went, then came Kaufmo, and you two became like a silly duo!

– Guys wanna hear a joke? – Kaufmo said as he turned around the corner, meeting you, Ragatha and Gangle in the “living room”, if you can even call it that. You were just juggling some rings, as you caught them you gave him a nod, just as Ragatha spoke up. – What is it Kaufmo? – All right. – He cleared his throat – When does a joke become a dad joke? – He looked at everyone in the room, none, except for you, looked excited. Ragatha sighed. – …When?  – When it leaves you and never comes back! – He giggled. Ragatha’s face turned into a surprised and concerned frown, as Gangle laughed awkwardly, meanwhile, in the back you were wheezing, trying to catch your breath. Laughing so hard to the point that the trio before you became actually concerned. You started to hyperventilate, not able to catch your breath, falling and laughing on the ground. Ragatha’s face changed again, she wasn’t sure if you were laughing or having a very concerning panic attack. After your small episode you wiped the nonexistent tear out of your eye and straightened your back, sighing you spoke up. – Ah, good one Kaufmo!!

They all looked at you like you were a lunatic and you were like “:D !!”. And after that you just started doing a juggling trick again, like nothing happened. 

From then on Gangle became a bit scared because of you. 

And then Jax came around, it really pissed you off when he pulled mean pranks on others. He always sabotaged your stage tricks, one time even going so far that he cut your rope a bit, just as you walked onto it, high in the air, it snapped. Leaving you to fall to the ground with a loud, clowny thud. He laughed as Ragatha helped you up.

Just as Jax composed himself from laughing, he saw you just, staring at him, no thoughts behind your eyes. Just a numb, lifeless stare. It came to the point that he was clearly uncomfortable. And as the tension rose, you finally broke it by laughing the prank off. “Oh, you got me there! ^^” 

And again, you walked off and started to do another one of your tricks. 

Ragatha knew you weren’t stable, yet you were always so cheery and never have you come to her, asking to vent. She was always confused by you, at one point thinking you were an AI just like Caine, or something like Bubble (Seriously wtf is Bubble?), but you were just like them – human stuck in the digital world.

You were always so silly, unhuman, and worse of it all, weirdly tall. She always associated jesters with short and slightly goofy people. You were quite unsettling to her, so weirdly unhuman in this, more than others. 

Just imagine how confused she was when you were the one to comfort her when she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Ragatha sat there, away from her room. Just as she was about to open her door, she heard Jax laughing loudly behind her, she froze. – Oh what’s wrong, dollface? – Jax what did you do this time? – She asked, hoping her anger wasn’t visible, she felt it bubbling inside of her. All the poor ragdoll heard was another laugh, this time louder, seeing Ragatha upset made the purple rabbit quite happy, feeling he succeeded in his “prank”. She sighed angrily, turning around as she put weight on the knob, scared to see what’s inside, and as the doors opened, she saw a hellish amount of centipedes crawling around, slithering away from the opened entry, she shrieked and ran away crying. Hearing Jax’s laugh echo through the digital halls. Somehow, you have heard Ragatha running down the hall, and you decided to see what happened. Walking slowly and proudly, you pondered – where is that doll? Your boots squeaked and the bells on your outfit jingled. The harmony of your steps was ended by hiccups coming from someone a short distance away, slowly, you walked forward. She was there – Ragatha. Hiding her face in her knees, leaning over her, you realized she didn’t need any of your tricks or jokes right now, so you sat beside her, bells jingling. She froze again, sniffling she looked to her right, at you. Looking back you opened your arms, gesturing towards a hug, although hesitant, she took up your offer and hugged you. Trying to calm her down you just let her be, calmly waiting for her to settle down.  Minutes passed by, you didn’t mind, but the red–haired doll was shocked. You were always a lunatic in her eyes, it wasn’t even meant to be mean, you were just like that. From that day forward Ragatha has seen you for more than just another crazed maniac, but on the other hand, how could one stay sane in this digital hell?

Even the pillar of the group, the friend who always helped everyone, had to be comforted sometimes, but you never seemed to need this. Ragatha and others (except Jax) asked you if you wanted to talk on many occasions but you declined over and over again. 

Caine always liked you the most – you were the only person who actually went along with being a circus performer, he helped you set up many different sets for your tricks. 

When Ragatha couldn’t help someone she sent them to you, and to their surprise you always knew what to say, it seemed like you had this amazing ability to comfort a person just for a second before going back to being a silly jester. 

And then, after some time, Pomni came around. 

You all were doing the intro, and as the voice called your name you performed one of your gags and bowed before the voice went away to someone else. 

But suddenly, you saw a really short person appear in the main room, as everybody gathered around you saw the person wearing a jester’s outfit, just like you. Only thing was, the person was much smaller than you, had puffy shorts and a funny hat with bells opposing your long galligaskins, and a pointy collar with bells worn by fools.

The day Pomni joined the circus changed you – Kaufmo, your best friend, abstracted. And Ragatha finally saw some kind of struggle coming from you, your made up image changing.

At first, you felt like Pomni was there to replace Kaufmo, I mean, someone to forcefully make up for the lack of your circusy duo. 

But you just couldn’t hold that against that poor girl, she was scared, confused and on the thin line of abstracting herself. So, seeing that you’re the one most similar to her – avatar wise – she really started to stick to you. 

And so you carried on, comforting Pomni all the time, and after she got the info you were here (almost) for the longest? Bro she’s always with you. 

She’s seen you talking with Kinger that one time and was very much confused (like everyone tbh), how the hell do you seem to be able to hold a conversation with him? That was until he shrieked in absolute terror and jumped back to his pillow fort as you sighed and walked off.

After one particularly bad prank of Jax’s that made Ragatha and Pomni feel like $h!%, you literally jumped his @$$, and after that, when Caine separated you were like: “Sorry felt a tad bit silly. Wacky even :3” 

Pomni is always holding onto you in some kind of way, or just standing really close, and wherever you go, she follows.

Soon, she became comfortable with you (even with your unsettling nature) to be really close with you, sometimes you find her at your room’s door in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep, not like you need it anyway but it's nice to pretend, right?

During one of those nights, as you rubbed circles into her back to calm her down, you realized she had fallen asleep due to exhaustion, and so you let her stay.

Just before you drifted off to sleep too, you heard a weird noise, looking down on the smaller jester in your arms you discovered it was Pomni who was making the noise – Purring, she was fr purring. (I love this HC, saw it on Ao3 and since then it lives rent free in my head)

Gangle found you the next day, both of you sleeping through the days “opening” always done by Caine, she checked up on you afraid of finding you abstracted instead she saw you two cuddling, Pomni lying peacefully on your chest as you held her close,Gangle squealed, she’s shipping you two ever since.

Of course somehow Jax popped out of nowhere behind Gangle and was just about to roughly wake you two up before being stopped by Ragatha.

You sat in your room, trying to perfect your new trick – juggling with knives. Your room was rather quiet, you asked Caine to make it so years ago, saying it helped you concentrate. And so the AI agreed, knowing he was keen on you, you didn’t really expect any negative reaction to your request. It was already past curfew of the amazing digital circus, the lights in the halls went out and everyone walked back to their rooms. Luckily for you, the digital walls, not actually made of anything else than lines of ones and zeros, were thick and didn’t let any sound in or out, because of that you almost missed the light knocking coming through your door, curiously you walked over, leaving your juggling equipment away.  Opening the door you saw no one else other than – Pomni? What was she doing here? – You thought to yourself, you smiled with your typical, funky grin. The smaller jester looked anxious, looking everywhere else than you. – Pomni! What’s up? Why aren’t you in your room? You asked, leaning on the doorway. She looked up, but just for a second before speaking very quietly. – It was loud… I couldn’t sleep. – You gave her a sympathetic look, you remember the loud soundtrack that was blaring in your room when you first came around, getting out of the way as you walked into your room. – Come in, Pom.  She did, blushing slightly at the nickname and closing the door behind her, you sat on your bed before gesturing for her to sit down. – Is there any other reason you’re here? – You said, suggesting for her to go on. Feeling the atmosphere shift, her breath quickened, and she started to hyperventilate. That alarmed you a lot, moving closer you sat just far enough for her to stay in her comfort zone.  – Hey, hey… It’s okay, I’m here. – She looked at you as you opened up your arms, mentioning for her to hug you if she wants. To be honest you weren’t convinced she would take up the offer but to your slight shock – she did. You started to rub circles on her back as she cried into your shoulder. You didn’t question her, everybody had a different coping mechanism when they first got here, if she needed it, you were to provide. Soon, you felt her tense and shaken body relax, the poor jester fell asleep in your lap, succumbing to the exhaustion. You yawned, and slowly turned to lay on the bed, taking her into your embrace, at that, she just nuzzled into your chest, bells on your collar and her hat jiggling lightly, during that time, you heard a low and muffled sound, it was… purring? Confused you looked down, yes, the noise was definitely made by Pomni, you guess it was one of the weird wonders of the digital world. You laughed softly at the cute jester in your arms before going to sleep yourself. 

[hey-its-roseaurum]

Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.”  Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat.  There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead.  She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out.  She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense.  Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors.  Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.”  She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up.  My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense.  Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly.  There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim.  It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited.  Her throat had been cut. 

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense.  Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men. 

 Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them.  I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this.  So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament.  She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day.  I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?”  I inquired as I dusted myself off.  Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly.  Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.”  Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her.  I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London.  But I didn’t see her as a criminal.  I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter.  I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox.  Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it.  And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless.  With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society.  My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home.   It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that.  My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress.  I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town.  It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it.  Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period.  She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there.  I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded.  When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open.  I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye.  It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand.  When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it.  I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox.  Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.  

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police.  I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand.  We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.  

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise.  She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother.  All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything.  I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place.  One thing kind of led to another.  The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home.  That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.  

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox.  The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye.  She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present.  I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are.  You just began learning.  Give yourself a little credit.”  Following me, she made her way to the table by the window.  A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side.  She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.  

“I know.  I’m just…worried.  It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.”  I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea.  I needed a moment to choose my words carefully.  “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.  

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door.  A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office.  I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head.  Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat. 

”Have you any sense what time it is?”  Edith interrogated, crossing her arms.  The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks.  His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair.  Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders.  I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia”  I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.”  I responded softly.  “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes.  Sherlock Holmes.  One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.”  I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response.  He’s only being polite Olivia.  We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria.  He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?  

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?”  Edith asked again, harsher this time.  Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.  

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself.  It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing.  I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times.  Sherlock never did.  He’s always been composed, and proper.  Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.”  He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him.  A moment of silence clung in the air.  

”Is it about Enola?   Did she get herself into trouble?”  There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions.  The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face. 

”There’s something about this case-“. 

”That deduction cannot solve?”  Edith finished his thought.  He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk.  That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window.  I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?”  He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize.  Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.”  My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option.  A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with.  Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it.  I’ll go instead of you.”  In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand.  I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into.  You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.  

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago.  But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated.  I was different.  If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it?  Enola?  She’s not expendable. I am.  And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone.  I’ve lived in them.  I know where to go in case I’m being followed.   And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure.  “No one would suspect me.  They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet.  I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them.  I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go.  She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover.  But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait.  Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy.  If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.  

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”  Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts.  “You have my word.”  His eyes met mine at his.  I felt something else there besides the promise.   Edith sighed,  rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock.  Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.”   Edith finally concurred.  “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement.  I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.    

”When do we start?”

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

[samkerrworshipper]

the call up

leah williamson x reader

please keep sending requests in i need some fuel!

angst, panic attacks, pain, mentions of abuse of power, mentions of abuse, a short 4000 words im posting this at 2am so sorry for any typos or little things i might have missed x

my heart breaks for the espwnt as they navigate their current situation and i’ve been thinking a lot about it so here’s this little fic ❤️

blurb: you got the news notification, not a text, not a call, a fucking new notification that had broken your heart into a million different pieces

———————————————————————

I was consciously ignoring the sound of furious knocking against the bathroom door, but not on purpose. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I’d felt that way ever since I’d gotten the news notification and then the follow up text from Alexia asking if I was okay. No I wasn’t okay, but I’d told her I was fine anyway. It was a blur to me what had happened after that, I’d thrown my phone at a wall, knowing that my phone was probably 30 seconds off of lighting up furiously with more notifications. How could they do this to us? How could they do it to me? After that I’d stumbled my way into my ensuite, finding it hard to see properly with the tears that were crowding my eyes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think beyond the thought of how this was actually happening.

I’d staggered my way into the shower, cranking the water to its highest point and sitting myself down on the floor. I was bawling my eyes out but I couldn’t really feel it, all I felt was numbness, overwhelmingly numb. The shower water was boiling hot but the searing liquid felt perfect against my skin, it did wonders to comfort the iciness inside of me. It also drowned out the neverending sound of me sobbing furiously into my own skin. I was still wearing my clothes, still dressed in the same t-shirt and shorts that I’d been wearing when I’d gotten the notification. I was scratching furiously at my legs, seeking out the relief that the mixture of pain and burning gave me.

How was this the world that we were living in? How was it that in the current world that we lived in I didn’t even have a basic human right? I was a sobbing, trembling mess just thinking about it all.

How was I supposed to go there and pretend that everything was fine, that I didn’t want to claw my throat out just at the thought of being in the presence of some of those people. It was insanity, pure insanity. I was a fucking world champion, one of the best players in the world and yet here I was, back to square one. What was the point in us even signing a treaty if they were just going to flat out ignore it anyways. It made me sick to my stomach, in what world was this okay, in what world was this how we lived?

Leah would probably hate me, hate me for being ungrateful for the opportunity, hate me for not taking a chance to play when she couldn’t. I was being fucking childish, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, shouldn’t have been that upsetting. I was being given the opportunity to play the sport I loved for my country, so why did everything about it feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I find a part of my heart that was happy that I’d been called up, happy about the prospect of playing for my country. I should have been happy, should have been excited, should have been bewildered that they were asking for me to come back even after I’d told the press about all the abuse, it was a miracle really. My heart went out to Mapi, my best friend who I knew would be absolutely devastated that she’d been called up, she’d rejected a call-up to the world cup because of her views and now that was invalidated, everything she’d stood for was going out the window, much like the rest of us.

It was the knocking that brought me out of my spiral, it was non-stop, loud and furious.

“Y/n, I’m coming in sweetheart.”

It was Leah’s voice, both so gentle and stern at the same time. I didn’t take my head out of my knees as I heard the door to our ensuite open, I must have forgotten to lock it in the flurry of emotions that had gotten me to the shower floor. I heard Leah step cautiously into the room, probably taking in her surroundings and the state I was in. Then I heard the door to the shower opening and I couldn’t help but pull my head out of the spot in between my legs to look at her. She looked flustered, her hair and clothes dishevelled and nothing like what they’d looked like when she’d left this morning to take our dogs on a walk and meet up with Keira for coffee.

“Oh darling.”

I knew I probably looked like a mess, mascara smudged all over my red eyes. She reached out to comfort me but immediately recoiled when her skin made contact with the water, letting out a string of profanities towards the water,

“Fuck, you’re burning yourself,” She said, her eyes flashing with fear as she reached towards the temperature dial, immediately turning it down to a more luke warm temperature.

“No, I need to feel clean,” I reached up to turn the water controls back to my previous temperature btu Leah’s hand stopped me, her hands gently gathering my own in hers.

“You are clean y/n,” Her voice was a mere whisper, her voice hoarse as she hurriedly slipped off her shirt and shorts before climbing into the shower with me, just left in her sports bra and boxer shorts.

“Dirty,” I choked out, flinching away from her as she snaked an arm around my body.

“You are not dirty y/n/n,” her voice was stern, she was speaking to me with the intention to get past my internalised barriers that were trying to block her out, trying to block out her attempts to convince me that my self deprecating thoughts were wrong.

As soon as she noticed my hands falling down to my legs to continue scratching at them to get some release she put a stop to it, her own hands intertwining with mine and bringing them to her chest.

“I know there are a lot of twisted thoughts going through your head right now sweetheart, I know that this whole situation is so fucked up, beyond it being okay but I’m here for you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like every breath that I was taking in was lacking in oxygen and everything I needed to be able to fucking breathe.

“How can they do this? How can they make us do this?”

Leah just shook her head at me, because we both knew she didn’t have an answer, that as much as I leaned on her to give me an answer for everything she just couldn’t in this situation.

“I don’t know.”

Her words were rocky, splotchy, it reflected everything that I was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m being ungrateful, I mean you can’t even play and I’m sitting her complaining about the fact I’m being given the opportunity to play,”

“You aren’t being given an opportunity, you are being forced to play. You are allowed to be annoyed about that, it’s not being ungrateful. We live in a world where as women we are supposed to be grateful about every single fucking opportunity we are given but this isn’t a opportunity my love, it’s fucking abuse, especially after what those men did to you.”

I shivered at Leah’s words, just thinking about everything that I’d given to that team just to be fucking abused and assaulted, it had taken so much therapy for me to acknowledge that it had been abuse, that it hadn’t been deserved, that I deserved better.

“I can’t go back, I can’t do it,” Leah nodded at me, pressing her lips to my forehead under the spray of the shower and nodding against my skin.

“That’s okay, we’ll sort it out, I’ll call Ale and we’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to go you don’t have to, we can't risk your mental health for fucking soccer.”

“They’ll take my licence, they’ll fine me, I’ll never be allowed back, they’ll find a way to invalidate my passport and I’ll never get to see my family again,”

“That’s a bridge we can cross, we’ll figure it out, what matters most is that you are okay.”

I didn’t feel okay, I felt like I was tearing at the seams, like seeing that news notification pop up on my screen as I’d been catching up on the most recent episode of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was probably the worst moment of my life.

“You do feel safe, y/n?”

I shook my head, burying deep into Leah’s neck, trying to get as far away from the world as I could.

“I love you y/n, I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens, you are stuck with me, so even if thats hard to believe I need you to know that, I need you to think about that. Let’s get you out of the shower, yeah?”

She was right, I didn’t believe her. I kept my cheek pressed into her neck as she lifted me up off of the floor and out of the shower, stripping off my layers and wrapping me in a towel, I refused to face her though, refused to look into those eyes.

“Can I carry you?” Her voice was so hesitant and before I could gather my thoughts, the ones that told me to push Leah away I found myself nodding.

She engulfed me in her arms so quickly it was as if she knew I was on the cusp of changing my mind, I still hadn’t stopped crying, my sobs had just quietened down into numb, soundless tears that somehow burned my cheeks as they dripped down my skin. My chest pressed against her own as she lifted me up and walked us into our room, our bedroom. I squeezed my eyes, trying my hardest to ignore how perfect it felt in that moment to be pressed against her, to be in her arms, how perfect it felt to be held by her.

She gently placed me down on our bed and I tried my hardest not to whimper at the loss of contact, she dashed off into our wardrobe, stumbling around in there for a few seconds before returning with a fresh matching bra and boxer set on herself and a sports bra and pair of boxer shorts for me. I didn’t even flinch as she pulled the items of clothing over my body, just went limp in her arms. Once she was done dressing me she climbed onto the bed beside me.

“Can I hold you?”

I nodded at her with tears in my eyes and she’d immediately wrapped both of her arms around me. She rested herself against the head of the bed and brought me into her lap so my back was pressed against her chest, it was the skin to skin contact that made me start to sob unapologetically and furiously. Leah was quick to tighten her grip on me and start to rock me back and forth in her arms.

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to fix it.”

Leah was a problem solver, furiously dedicated to helping out anyone that she could. In this instance though I couldn’t find anything that she could actually help with, what was there for her to do? No one could do anything, any effort, any attempt to try and make a change, for Jenni, for us all, was over.

“How am I supposed to go there and act all happy and grateful when all I want to do is tell them all fuck you, fuck you for doing this to me, fuck you for condoning the abuse for years, fuck you for covering it all up.”

My words came out in hiccups between the sobs, Leah waited for a few minutes before answering me, it got to the point where I was worried she wasn’t going to answer me at all.

“If you don’t want to stay and play you won’t have to, it’s against your rights and the FIFA code says so, fuck there bullshit law that says you have to go. We’ll talk with our lawyers, talk with Ale and Mapi and we’ll find a solution. If they make you play then you can sit on the field, you can fake an injury, get yourself red carded. We’ll find a solution, we’ll work it out.”

Everything Leah said made sense but it also didn’t, how was I supposed to go there, how was I supposed to walk in a building and try and reason with people I was terrified of, people that I now needed anti anxiety medication for, people that had given me years of trauma and PTSD.

It was then that we were both shaken by a furious banging from our front door, my mind went to the worst place possible. What if it was reporters, or people from fifa, or people from the Spanish federation? What if they’d come to take me, what if they were already here to take my licence or take me to jail?”

Leah sensed my distress and slid herself out from behind me.

“I’ll go take a look, stay here, it’ll be fine.”

Even her voice was unsure, like she didn’t even know if it was actually okay. She darted out of our room, I heard her thudding down the stairs and then making it to our front door. I heard her open it, which indicated to me it had to be someone we knew because if it was someone she didn’t want to see she would have looked through the peephole and left them. I heard the hushed voices of two people, maybe? Then the furiously fast footsteps of an amount of people I couldn’t make out. Within a few second though all was revealed to me as Alexia, Mapi, Lucy and Keira bursted into my room, Leah chasing after them. One look at them all had me sobbing again. Alexia and Mapi were quick to jump onto the bed beside me, I noticed the the tear tracks that were painting Mapi’s face as well and the red rims around her eyes. Mapi was my best friend in the entire world, we’d played with each other since we were kids. Alexia was like my older sister, she’d taken me under my wing as soon as I’d joined Barca as a rookie and she’d treated me like her own ever since. The two women meant more to me than anybody else, bar Leah and I knew that they both knew how much this would be tearing me up.

“How can they do this to us? After everything they’ve done?”

“Lo se mi amor, lo siento mucho.” (I know my love, I’m so sorry)

Ale’s voice didn’t do much to comfort me, if anything her familiar words that were spoken in our mother tongue just made it all pour out of me more.

The two english women in the room were lead out by Leah, the three of them sensing that this was a moment that us Spaniards needed to have on our own.

“No puedo hacerlo Ale lo siento pero no puedo hacerlo.” (I can’t do it Ale, I’m so sorry but I can’t do it.)

“It’s okay Mi amor, I understand. We are going to sort it out for you and Mapi, we’ll figure it out, you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to, they can’t force you.”

“Can’t they?”

It was the first time Mapi had gotten a word into the conversation and Alexia’s eyes immediately met hers in a glare, she was trying to stop me from working myself up even further and Mapi’s words weren’t helping.

“No they can’t María, we’ll work it out, I’ll sort it out for my girls, I’ll keep you protected, te prometo que.” (I promise you)

“You can’t make that promise, you didn’t protect us last time.”

The tension between the two was thickening and it was making me feel even smaller.

“I can try my hardest, last time it was different and you know it, this time we have an audience, we have people that we can trust to help us, we don’t have to be scared anymore, I am going to protect you, lo juro.”

I pressed myself further into Ale’s arms, finding solace and comfort in the older woman's arms.

“I’m scared, Ale.”

I felt Ale’s head nod against my own from its position balancing on top of mine, her head burrowing into my semi wet hair that Leah had partly dried with a towel.

“I know pequeño, you have every right to be scared, but I’ll keep you safe and if you want to go home after we negotiate with them then you can, no one is going to make you play.”

I nodded into Ale’s body, searching for Mapi’s hand and when I found it tangling it in my own, finding warmth and steadiness in her hand.

I could feel my body relaxing into Ale’s, the emotions of the last hour starting to hit me and affect my energy level.

“Go to sleep, cariño, rest, you need it.”

I’d nodded sleepily into Alexia’s body and let myself relax fully against her, letting all of the stress, fear and anxieties leave my body as the feeling of sleep started to overcome my senses.

When I woke up it was no longer light outside. I shot up in bed, realising I was alone and immediately clutching at my chest as I felt the anxiety overcome my body, I’d been deserted, because of my stupid fears about being called up, I deserved it, I was so weak, so stupid, so fucking unworthy of love and attention. It all came crashing down on me, like a massive wave, all of the feelings crashing down on top of me in an overwhelming cascade. I was gasping for air, frantically clawing the sheets of the bed off of my body, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, overheated and sweaty. I’d left a cold sweat patch on our bed sheets but it didn’t really bother me, I was so hot and it was so hard to breathe and I just couldn’t think.

The next thing I knew Leah was walking into our room with a cup of tea that she’d almost immediately dropped when her eyes had met mine, forgetting the cup and liquid and jumping directly onto the bed, her mind immediately reeling.

“Y/n/n, you're having a panic attack, I need you to breathe for me, how we’ve practised, you’re going to be okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

I’d gulped and nodded at Leah, we had practised it quite a bit, it didn’t make it any easier when this happened but it did reassure me that I knew how to do it.

Her hand had almost immediately found its way to my hunched over back, rubbing circles into the muscles along my back as I struggled to take in any oxygen.

“You’ve got it my love, deep breaths, in and out, it’s going to be okay, I’m right here.”

Leah’s voice was so soft, so comforting, like it was made of cotton and teddy bear fur.

“I thought I was alone and I-I thought you’d left me.”

My voice was so unsteady, so unlike me.

“I’m never leaving you honey, not if I can help it, I’m here for you, always by your side.”

She solidified her statement by pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my temple, I relaxed my scrunched up face against her mouth, trying to enjoy the feeling of it as much as possible.

“Good girl, keep taking those deep breaths for me, you're doing so well mi amor.”

Leah knew very little Spanish, I’d tried my hardest to teach her some, especially when she’d stayed with me in Barca but it just never stuck, she didn’t practise enough for it to stick, not that I minded, my mum was english so I’d spoken both since I was a child, my English was just as good as my Spanish so it wasn’t hard for me to converse with my partner.

Leah’s voice kept rubbing against my back, helping to guide me back down to earth from the panic induced cloud that I’d sent myself to. When I did finally come back down I started to take in my surroundings, the damp sheet below me, Leah’s breath against my neck, our dog and cat sitting on the edge of our bed, cuddled up together asleep.

“Hey angel, you back with me?”

Her voice was so gentle, so patient. Leah’s hand found its way to my face, brushing the loose brunette strands from my face and pushing them behind my ear. I felt shameful, I couldn’t handle looking into those eyes, those eyes that held a world's worth of care in them, the eyes that I knew could break me down into tears on their own accord.

“M’ sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Her reassurance was what I needed, I craved that reassurance, craved her approval.

“I just want this all to go away, I just want to be able to me be, just live how I want to.”

Leah pushed herself back against our pillows and pulled me with her, wrapping her arms around me and bringing me to her chest, her lips fell to my forehead out of habit, it was one of her favourite things to do, I loved the connection.

“You can be you, you are allowed to be upset about this, there is nothing wrong about being angry about what is happening to you.”

I let my head find a nook in Leah’s body and relax into it properly, finding so much peace in her.

“I just want this to all be over, better yet, never have happened.”

“Fair enough, you’ve dealt with enough bullshit to last you the rest of your life, you are allowed to be angry about that, anything you feel is valid, your life has been turned upside down by a bunch of old white men who don’t care about anybody besides themselves and it sucks, it sucks that most of the men in power across our world are the same and that we can’t really do anything to change that. I’m here for you though, so is Ale and Mapi and everyone else that cares about you. It sucks, but that's what we have and maybe it’s enough, maybe it’s all we really need.”

I nodded along with Leah’s words, she was so wise, so smart considering her age. It was one of the things I admired her so much for, how she knew so much but was also prepared to educate herself on something that she wasn’t sure about. She was always wanting to be better, to learn more, it was jarring for me when I’d met her, having come from a very traditional family and set of views.

“Go back to sleep my love, we’ll work this all out in the morning, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

She’d rolled her eyes at me but nodded regardlessly, knowing that if she didn’t my anxieties would creep up and I’d probably send myself into another fit.

“I pinky swear.”

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,835 Words

Summary: Eclipse's found family finds him.

Warnings: Robot Gore, Injury, Amputation, Cursing, Near Death, PTSD, Panic Attack, Trauma, Surgery, Sibling Bonding, Angst with a serving of Fluff, Bathing Together (platonic, neither have bits down there), SFW Tickling, let me know if I should add anything else.

Found Family

Eclipse groaned pulling himself from the ball pit. What was left of him, at least. His left arm had had the hand ripped off and his right leg was missing from below the knee, his internals were attempting to pour out the deep gashes of claws in his stomach.

His right side upper faceplate had been ripped off along with right eye having been torn from its socket and wires. There was a deep gash down his left leg, leaving the limb half numb. And his chest and back had most of its casing mauled off, leaving his scratched endo and frame exposed and vulnerable.

He’d barely finished crawling his way from the ball pit before he saw a figure standing over him like a sadistic god and the blue he saw told him that this wasn’t the best person to find him this injured.

“So ya fucked up?” Moon asked, crouching before him and Eclipse glared with his remaining eye, this was all Moon’s fucking fault and Eclipse seethed at him.

“I went to kill him and he tried to destroy me!” Eclipse crackled out his half-broken voice box.

“Sad little worm, huh? Welp.” Moon stood up, slapping his thighs as he did so. “That’s a problem taken care of. I’m gonna go out and celebrate. You try to die quietly if you can.” Moon patted his aching head and Eclipse growled to keep him off, attempting to grab Moon’s hand and bite it since it was all he really could do at the moment. But Moon was quicker and got his hand away.

“Hey everyone, I’m buying shots! It’s celebration time!” Moon called through the daycare as he left to the upper level of the daycare as everyone followed him out of the daycare, shutting the lights off as he did so, leaving Eclipse in the darkness with just the ceiling of glowy stars illuminating barely to the top of the play structures.

Eclipse’s engines whirred on high as Eclipse used his remaining hand and the forearm of his left arm to crawl his way away from the ball pit and to the security desk, dragging and pulling down the emergency med kit and haphazardly dumping it on the ground with his right hand so he could get the contents.

His first grab was an ACE bandage, which he tried to put on his stomach with his one hand to some success. It looked sloppy as hell but his insides would stay inside. Eclipse’s processors whirred on max, fans turning slowly because they were half broken so they couldn’t fully cool him down and coolant was leaking out of him, having made a trail from the ball pit to the security desk already.

Eclipse secured the ACE bandage and then began packing gauze into his right knee where it had been ripped off and used another ACE wrap to keep pressure on it so the oil lines wouldn’t be leaking out. He repeated the same process to his left wrist and sighed as he rested one of the instant cold packs onto his processors, relaxing into the feeling of the cold pack helping his half-broken fans to cool him down.

Eclipse saw errors flashing that coolant and oil was low and critical machinery was damaged. Of course it was, he had lost body parts! He growled in annoyance at his creator. They had basically torn him to shreds and Moon didn’t give a single damn about it.

Eclipse hadn’t been able to get a single hit in on them. It had all simply been a blur after they had admitted that they made him and to them attacking him like he was a glorified punching bag. Eclipse hadn’t had a chance to even defend himself and the thought of it, even now, was terrifying.

He shuddered just thinking of the sound and feeling of his wires and endo creaking and cracking when his creator had snapped his right calf off the knee joint and torn it off of him. And the agony of having his left hand ripped off at the joint had been horrifying. The sick crunch the joint had made had made Eclipse throw up. He wasn’t even aware he could throw up, but he had at that sound of his endo crunching and snapping.

Eclipse felt lightheaded, his breaths were coming slower and he knew this was some kind of a panic reaction. Of course he would have a panic reaction. He had succeeded at getting his creator to take out the directives but at what cost? His body nothing more than scrap metal? His mind in shambles and panic? It didn’t feel worth it. Maybe he wasn’t worth a chance.

This train of thought absolutely didn’t help the panic. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? Was the daycare shaking? No, it was him. What was this? Eclipse hadn’t ever felt panic before, not this badly. It felt worse that when he was waiting for Moon and Sun to come kill him. It felt like it was all-consuming and crushing him.

The dark didn’t help either, he hated the dark just like both of his predecessors. He knew there weren’t monsters, there weren’t, but the dark was…scary. It felt like emptiness, like being abandoned again. And it felt cold. He light lights, the stars on the ceiling just weren’t enough light. Especially since solar models didn’t have very much eyesight in the dark. It felt like being stuck into a black box with holes poked in for air but even the air felt like it wasn’t enough.

----------

Blood Moon had finally gone prowling around with Stitchwraith. A joy! Prowling with their acquaintance! It was a ball to finally be out of that bunker place! Blood Moon had begun their prowling in the main entrance and were now going through the daycare, which had its lights off for some reason.

Blood Moon liked the dark, it was a warm place to them, it was comforting, but the sound of staticky sobs coming from the lower daycare wasn’t all that comforting. It was quite annoying actually. They hated crying! Hated it! It was weak!

Blood Moon wanted to snuff out that incessant sobbing and the annoying attendant the crying undoubtedly came from. So they went down to the lower daycare and sniffed around for it. Thankfully, they didn’t have to look for long, finding the sobbing’s source was a curled up and mangled Solar? Was this Solar? No, the dents on the rays and the scratches on the faceplate weren’t present. Could this be…?

----------

Stitchwraith followed Blood Moon to the sound of crying and gave a small gasp seeing the torn down frame of the animatronic they had been slightly amicable with, at least for gaming they had been. But what the hell did Eclipse deserve this for? To be torn to shreds and left to die? He hadn’t even done anything too bad yet, he hadn’t killed anyone at least.

“Eclipse?” Stitchwraith asked, crouching by him but it seemed to go unnoticed. Was Eclipse having a panic attack? “Eclipse, hey.” Stitchwraith knew they’d get hit but they had to shake Eclipse by the shoulder to even get a slight bit of a response.

Once they did shake Eclipse’s shoulder, Eclipse whipped his left arm at them, which was missing it’s hand and was instead bandaged with gauze and an ACE bandage. The hit from Eclipse’s forearm connected with Stitchwraith’s faceplate but didn’t so much as put a scratch on them from how weak Eclipse seemed to be.

Eclipse looked up at them after, eyes wild with panic and pain, breathing going a mile a minute and extremely defensive and scared. Stitchwraith felt Blood Moon tugging on their cloak and waved their hand off to keep Blood Moon behind them. Eclipse was a more pressing matter than answering Blood Moon’s question at the moment.

“Eclipse, it’s Stitchwraith. I need you to breathe slowly for us.” Stitchwraith instructed him. Eclipse’s motors shuddered as he tried to take slow breaths for Stitchwraith. “You’re safe. Can you point to what’s scaring you the most right now?” They asked. Eclipse wordlessly pointed his shaky right pointer finger up at the lights.

“Blood Moon, go turn on the lights.” Stitchwraith instructed the twin hellions, who scampered off to go do just that at his request, the lights turning on row by row until the daycare was illuminated completely, which looked to ease some of Eclipse’s panic.

“Are you able to tell me what happened to you or is it too hard right now?” Stitchwraith asked.

“Creator…mauled me…” Eclipse’s voice was staticky and a weird echoed pitch but he could decipher it still.

“The person who made you mauled you?” Stitchwraith asked to confirm and Eclipse nodded softly. “Why did they do that?” Stitchwraith asked.

“Went to get…directives out…” Eclipse admitted.

“Your creator is a bunch of bull. That’s really all you went to do and he left you like you’re in a scrap heap?” Eclipse nodded and Stitchwraith bristled with annoyance at the audacity of Eclipse’s creator. That was downright cruelty for absolutely no reason. Eclipse didn’t deserve to be mauled over a simple ask like that. The way Eclipse’s simple ask was treated was absolutely bullshit.

“How about this, if you let Blood Moon carry you, I’ll fix you.” Stitchwraith reasoned. Stitchwraith would carry Eclipse back, give Eclipse probably couldn’t walk with a missing leg and fragile machinery desperately trying to escape Eclipse’s frame, but their arms still hurt from Blood Moon using them as a scratching post this morning as if the small bot was a damn cat.

“Okay…” Eclipse agreed and looked to Blood Moon as the red and white faced bot came scampering back down to the lower daycare and sat on the floor, looking over the situation with their head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Blood Moon, you’re going to carry him home. I need to repair him.” Stitchwraith told them.

“Aaaawwwwww, why do we have to carry the Sunman!?” Blood Moon began their usual spiel of complaining about the simplest of tasks. This bot could pick up a full cement truck but complained at picking up an animatronic that probably barely weighed more than them.

“Because our arms still hurt from being used as scratching posts. Now pick him up and be careful. Make sure you keep his stomach level, his internals are trying to be externals.” Stitchwraith sighed. Blood Moon whined a bit more but inevitably picked Eclipse up and thankfully held Eclipse as though he were some princess. It was embarrassing for Eclipse, sure, but it kept Eclipse’s insides inside him.

“Okay, come on, back home.” Stitchwraith told them and began leading Blood Moon back to their bunker and into his lab, instructing Blood Moon to gently place Eclipse on a table so he could work on him. He had most of the parts from misships and scrounging but he knew full well Eclipse would look different than he used to.

“I’m going to turn off your pain sensors but just stay awake and talk to Blood Moon for me while I work on you.” Stitchwraith told Eclipse as he got the necessary parts and tools together to fix him.

“Blood Moon?” Eclipse asked as Stitchwraith turned off the bot’s pain receptors and began to patch up and put on a replacement left hand for Eclipse.

“Yes, unholy creator?” Blood Moon sat like a cat in the chair near Eclipse’s legs.

“I’m not your creator, I never made you. That was…the original me. Before the backup in your head, before I was even a spot on the wall.” Eclipse grumbled.

“So you didn’t make us but you are an Eclipse.” Blood Moon cackled.

“I don’t know what I am.” Eclipse admitted. “I may as well have been made in a fucking petri dish in a lab. I have no clue who I am or what I am, just that I’m here and apparently my name is Eclipse and I’m the asshole everyone hates.” Eclipse huffed as Stitchwraith finished up the hand replacement and moved onto Eclipse’s right calf and foot replacement.

“You are…like us? A copy?” Blood Moon asked.

“An incomplete copy, yes. With directives and pasted memories from other points of view and a creator that rips out my directives and leaves me to the mercy of people who will just let me rot in a hole.” Eclipse was angry but he wasn’t panicking at least.

“We are incomplete as well. Memories from other people and bloodlust enhanced with less free will. Bullshit it is.” Blood Moon grumbled. Huh, odd that the two who hated each other agreed. Eclipse sighed and put his head back down on the table.

Stitchwraith finished replacing his lost calf and foot and moved onto Eclipse’s mauled open midsection and began patching the endo cage that contained Eclipse’s insides that had been ripped open. It was easier here because it was taking out the broken bits of old endo and welding in new pieces of the endo. He was also replacing broken innards as he came across them.

“We’re in the same boat then. I…I could remove it. I think. I have the original’s pasted memories too, I’m sure I could sift through and take out the bloodlust.” Eclipse told him, watching Stitchwraith more than Blood Moon now as Stitchwraith was working of Eclipse’s faceplate, fixing the wires and socket and putting in a new eyeball and replacing the half of the faceplate that had been torn off.

“Take out? You can take that out?” Blood Moon asked.

“I think so. I could try at least.” Eclipse told them, sighing now as the only thing left was his body casing, which was something easy and much less surgical. It was akin to putting on a new outfit to animatronics, especially daycare animatronics, who sometimes had to take off their casing to clean it after days in the daycare.

A calm quiet settled in the lab as Stitchwraith got Eclipse into a purple and white casing, replacing the ribbons on Eclipse’s wrists with new purple ones that weren’t stained with coolant and oil and laid out new pants and a new shirt for Eclipse to get dressed into.

“Alright, go get clean. I have a sanitizing station here, it’ll get you clean. Blood Moon, you need to get cleaned too.” Stitchwraith told him, helping Eclipse stand up and turning back on his pain sensor since there wouldn’t be as much pain to feel. He could fix minor things like Eclipse’s half-broken voice box later. What was important was getting Eclipse to feel better and not take an entire day just to fix him. Plus he didn’t have a new voice box for him just yet.

Eclipse struggled sitting up, his endo aching from what a human would consider bruises. He could feel the stiffness in his new parts and his eye was still adjusting, making him blink that eye more, which was uncomfortable but bearable because he had full sight back again now. He just let Stitchwraith help him to his feet, grateful for the help from his brother? Cousin? Acquaintance, Eclipse was going with acquaintance with the weird family tree he didn’t want to deal with.

Eclipse was passed to Blood Moon so the smaller bot could help him along and Eclipse happily used them as a sentient cane for his new stiff foot and calf that was making him limp a bit  with how little the new ankle could move yet. Blood Moon supported him, which was surprisingly actually helpful.

“But brother goes in the cleaning tube.” Blood Moon and maneuvered the both of them into the tube, helping Eclipse get off his dirty old clothes and Blood Moon threw off his mud covered clothes and stayed with his brother so they’d both get cleaned like Stitchwraith asked.

Blood Moon giggled at the sanitizing mist and roared with laughter at the brushes that came to scrub off the worst grime. Eclipse only needed the sanitizing mist to heat the coolant and oil on him enough to drip off into the drain in the floor. But Eclipse liked seeing his little brother laugh. It was nice to have this moment.

Eclipse never got to have this with…the others. But it felt nice to watch his brother laugh at the brushes going after the ticklish spots on his back. He kind of liked this, it made him feel warmth bloom in his chest that one of his siblings wasn’t scared of him or wishing him death or even leaving him to die.

Once Eclipse was clean, he left the tube while Blood Moon was still giggling up a storm getting scrubbed because he rolled in dirt from what it seemed like. Eclipse pulled on the new clothes and smoothed his hands over them, they were actually comfortable and not itchy like his old clothes. He liked being here. It felt like home.

[back2bluesidex]

I came solemnly to make my request: can we have a pjm fic where he just cheated on you and then you confront him and he realized he made the biggest mistake of his life 🙊

Wildest Dreams - JM

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Theme: Angst, breakup au

Song: Wildest Dreams

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Infidelity, cheating, break up.

A/N: anon didn't mention a song (probably because it's a random request) so I added the most suitable one. Also thank you so much for this request and I hope you like it.

“Baby.. I missed you.” Jimin preps your shoulder and neck with small kisses. His hands are wrapping up around your waist from behind. His lithe body presses onto your numb one. 

Surprisingly, you don’t feel anything. You are neither melting down for his touch, his kisses nor do you feel angry enough to push him on the hard cold floor to walk out of this apartment, you once called home, walk out of his life. You are, again, just numb. 

But what is ticking you off badly right now, are Jimin's words. He missed you? He missed you all along the time he was lying to you? While he told you he was on a business trip only for you to find out he was on a vacation with another woman? He missed you while he fucked her in a luxurious hotel bed? Funny! He is certainly mocking you. He is mocking your feelings, the time you had together and the engagement rings that sit on both of your ring fingers. 

“Are you sure that you missed me?” you hold on the balcony railing goes tighter. 

Jimin detaches his head from your neck and brings it sideways to partially face you. You can see him smirking from your peripheral vision. 

“Do you doubt me baby? Hmm?” he presses a kiss on your left cheek. 

“I kept on thinking of you… during all the meetings, all the team dinners, while having drinks. They had the lemon flavored gin that you love so much.” 

You chuckle dryly, “Really? Then did you think of me when you fucked that woman naming Sara on your hotel bed?” 

You finally face Jimin for the first time since he arrived. You see his eyes going wide, hands starting to tremble, face starting to fall, voice starting to lose. 

“What happened, Jimin? Did you miss me while fucking her or not?” you press on more. You didn’t know you could sound this sarcastic. 

“Y/N…” Jimin somehow manages to make his voice audible enough to your ears. And even that ticks you off badly now. 

“What? How do I know? That’s what you wanna ask? Then let me tell you, Park Jimin. I have known your whereabouts for an exact of three months and seven days now. All these times I have been silently praying for you to realize your mistake. For you to confess your sins to me. All these times I have been giving you one last chance. But guess what? I was a fool! I was a fool to believe you will regret your choice. I was a fool-” you choke on your saliva and then you realize you have been crying, tears are making a mess on your face, “I was a fool to believe you have ever loved me. I was a fool to believe that I have changed you.” 

Jimin feels as if his eyes are losing sight. An enormously giant cloud is hovering above his head and taking away all the sunshine he has ever had. Now all he sees is darkness. 

He gapes for words but what can he even say when he is the one at fault? 

He doesn’t know where everything went wrong. He doesn’t know how one drunken mistake turned into a repeated willing sin. But what he does know is that he loves you. And he is realizing that again right when he is about to lose you… forever. 

“You could have told me once. You could have told me that you don’t want me anymore, I would have walked away right then. Did you really have to break my trust and go behind my back, Jimin? Did you really have to do that?” You spat your words at his face, grabbing his shirt harshly. 

He desperately tries to hold your face and wipe your tears but you shove his hands away as if his touches burn. 

“Y/N.. I- I am sorry. I am a bad person. I should have never-” 

“Please keep your half-assed apology to yourself when you don’t even mean it.” you scoff at him, violently rubbing your tears away with the sleeve of your cardigan. 

“No. I mean it. I- please Y/N. I will make everything alright. Please-” Jimin’s face now matches yours, all teary and messy. 

“Make everything alright?” an unintended scoff leaves from your throat, “can you make things right for all the times you eyed every other woman while I was right beside you? Can you make things right for all nights I waited for you while you had extra workload? Will you be able to make things right for the times when you shamelessly flirted with my friends even?” your voice trembles, “can you make things right for all the times you have taken me for granted? Tell me Jimin.. Can you?” 

Jimin doesn’t say anything. He stares at you through his tear-blurred vision wishing for the ground to split into half and swallow him. 

“Not everything can be alright.” You say as you bring both of your hands together in order to pluck out your engagement ring from your ring finger. 

As soon as Jimin understands what you are going to do, he grabs both of your hands with his. His grip is so tight that it makes you hiss.

Within an instant, Jimin sinks down on his knees and breaks into a loud sob. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately), the scene doesn’t bother you a bit. 

“Please Y/N! No. I beg you, don’t do this! I will be better. I will be the best. I won’t give you any chance to complain anymore. Just don’t do this. We promised each other forever, didn’t we?” 

“I thought so.” you reply with a small voice as you look away from his trembling figure. “I thought we promised forever… even though I know…” you pause inhaling a lot of oxygen,

“Nothing lasts forever. But this…”  you point at the ring with your eyes, “This is gonna take me down.”   

“Y/N-”

“And I can’t let that happen, Jimin. Not anymore.” These are your last words before you pull the ring out of your finger despite his strong grip.

“It’s over.” and you turn to walk away. 

Jimin is swift as he stands on his feet, grabs you by your arm and pulls you into his embrace. 

“Please Y/N! I can’t live without you.” 

“Yes you can, Jimin. You have lived all these times without me, tangled in other women’s beds, night after night. Live just like this from now on as well. Just say you’ll remember me, standing here on this balcony, wearing that lilac dress you brought me for our engagement day. Say that you will remember us, promising each other forever while exchanging rings.” and you tiptoe, reach Jimin’s height, place your lips on his forehead. He holds you close for one last time, cries on your shoulder as you two approach an inevitable end of your relationship.   

[handibrain]

Title: Freezerburn Warnings: In-depth talk about Spy dying, medical torture, body horror, just general medical stuff Author's Note: For @tf2heritageposts! Based on one of their posts about the Spy head dying. It's not my best work, but it's good for not writing anything for months

The fridge, Blu Spy realized, wasn’t too bad. It was numbing enough, and the darkness when it closed allowed him to shut down mentally to escape his predicament of various months. He quickly notes mentally how he doesn’t actually know how long it has been since the enemy Medic beheaded him and stuffed him in the cold box he is forced to live in.

The only times he got to escape was when Pyro snuck him out to have a tea party, and even then he couldn’t enjoy it. Either there was nothing, or some other drink in there, usually water. He did get solace when that laborer he despised gave Pyro warm tea, but he couldn’t truly enjoy it since he didn’t have a stomach and so couldn’t actually consume anything.

There had been a great absence in the fridge door opening for any reason, Spy realizes. Were they busy? Did they forget about him? Many questions swirled around his head, though that’s about anything he could do seeing as he was one.

He felt an itch where the battery connected to his remaining spinal cord, the medic hooking it up to something he implanted into him forever ago. It had been a while since that battery was replaced, it wouldn’t surprise him if the itch was a low battery warning type of feel.

He decided to stop thinking about that fact, and slept the rest of the day.

When he awoke it was still dark, no harsh light had befallen him while he slept either. He could really go for a smoke right about now, maybe that gross warm tea.

After mulling around, in and out of his brain, he decided to zone out the rest of the day before sleeping again.

When he awoke he started to get irritated with the lack of stimulation, it had gotten to the point of hallucinations of touch on his body he knew he couldn’t feel from where he sat.

Suddenly, the door opened, the Scout startling and jumping back with a shout.

“What the hell?! Oh, it’s just you. Thought the doc tossed you out already.” Scout spoke, poking him in random spots around his face.

“No, he did- stop poking me!” He complained.

“Oh well, see you later, man. Just here to grab some Bonk I stored in here.” He shrugged, grabbing a can.

“No, don’t leave me here! Please!” Spy shouted, desperate pleas for freedom from the fridge as the door closed.

And with that, he was thrust into darkness and cold once more. The thought sunk in, alone. Fully, and utterly, alone.

A small huff came out, bordering on a sob. Quickly, one after another, the small huff became laughing sobs of hysteria. He wasn’t getting out of this hell he was forced into.

He wasn’t sure how long he went for, but when he was through he was exhausted. He decided to be stuck in his thoughts a while longer before sleep.

When he awoke, it was with a sharp pain coming from the battery to spine connection. He felt weaker than usual, he realized. Was the battery finally dying? Hopefully it was. He wondered if it would allow him to finally rest in peace.

As the day went on he was in more suffering than he ever was before, even with the mad doctor’s pokes and prods. Even with him being awake during the beheading and implantation of the device in his neck. Because at least he took him out of the Fridge in the beginning, gave him cigarettes, Pyro entertained him. Now there’s nothing, just darkness. Nobody to distract from the pain in his neck.

He couldn’t believe that he missed when the doctor would take him out of the fridge and poke around at where his neck connected to the base of the device, sticking his things in his esophagus opening or pulling at the last exposed bone. When he would be forced to eat just to see if something changed when it never did, but the medic still had to see if maybe he had a connection to his body. When he would be subjected to ramblings about his own body, or what would happen next in a new experiment. He even missed when he had organs hooked up to him once. He slightly scoffed at how short winded that experience was, Pyro snatching his head from the setup that ultimately ruined everything dealing with that.

His mouth was dry, he had a migraine, he was hallucinating things regarding touch and sight, he didn’t have the energy to keep his head up as it was now limply hanging to the side. The only thing keeping him upright was the jar of organs next to him and the base he was planted on.

In the next few hours he could barely keep himself awake, constantly slipping into the unconscious.

There was a hot, searing pain in his neck. The fabric of his balaclava irritating his face due to the cold and the time he’s had it on for. He could feel his pulse pounding everywhere, from his brain, teeth, and eyes. Oh, yeah, his eyes. He realized he lost sight a while ago, or at least most of it. He was sure of it. Something bumped the fridge so it opened, he noted this because of the jolt he felt earlier and then the decrease in coldness around him. There were some bits of light, though dim in his sight.

Not too long later, he lost his sight entirely. In darkness once more, though now he had no hope for someone to save him. He wished he never thought about his state, thinking that it would save his sight or at least his acknowledgment of the loss.

He felt exhausted, maybe, just maybe, he could close his eyes and when he awoke again this would all be over.

When he did, he awoke to a bright light. For a moment, he thought maybe he had died and was spared. He quickly came to the realization he was in respawn though, the blue chipped strips of blue on the side of the walls were an indication as well as the small shelving and benches along the walls. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved, or upset at the fact he was alive.

When he tried to get up, he only got about an arms length off the ground before he just fell over. His limbs were long, too long. It felt foreign to him, as if this wasn’t actually his body after all. He just laid on the floor, listening to the humming of the overhead lights and air conditioning’s rattling.

He would figure this all out later, for now he just rested on the concrete ground, reveling in the feeling of his body again.

Man, he could use a smoke right about now.

[writtenbeneaththestars]

Drowning

Summary: Grayson and swimming Warnings: thoughts of suicide, angst, overexertion, thoughts of drowning (please tell me if I missed any!!) A/N: What way to bring in pride month then with…. a very angsty Grayson fic ANYWAY— this is really short but I hope you enjoy? *please tell me if I made any mistakes!!*

Tags: @catapparently, @urbanflorals, @nqds, @reminiscentreader, @never-enough-novels (please tell me if you want to be added or removed!!)

It wasn’t a secret that Grayson Hawthorne swam. A lot.

It was a secret that sometimes, when he swam, he pictured sinking and never coming back up to the surface. It was more of a secret that by sometimes, he actually meant way more than just some of the time.

Today was like that.

The water was especially cold today for whatever reason, but that didn’t matter. He just– he needed the noise to be gone. He just needed it to be gone so it could be ok and he– he really, really needed to swim. Because Grayson Hawthorne did not break. He didn’t get the luxury of breaking.

So he’ll just swim instead.

And if anyone asked him what he was doing, he’d say swimming. Because swimming was fine. No one cared if he swam. No one cared if he pushed his body past its limit every single time, until he couldn’t breathe but in the good way – the way that he could control.

But no one asked him. That was fine. He didn’t need anyone to care. He didn’t deserve it anyway.

Avery asked a few times when she first came, but he gave the same answers every time.

“You’re going out to swim? In this hour?” Yes. He went all hours of the day and night and everything in between. He had to.

“You’re going to overwork yourself.” No I won’t. Yes, he would. Sometimes, he didn’t care. Other times, that was the point.

She seemed to get used to it after a while and stopped questioning him. He didn’t know if he was sad about that or not, but it left a sort of empty numb feeling. Then again, that feeling had always been there as far as he could remember.

When he was in the pool, he’d swim laps and laps and so many freaking laps. The entire time, he whispered in his mind everything wrong with him. Everything he needed to change. It was funny, because every single part of him needed to change. He swam with perfect form, never making a mistake. He had to. And if he did mess up, well, he wasn’t entirely sure. That had never happened before. All he knew was that he didn’t have the luxury of messing up. He couldn’t mess up.

Sometimes – and by that he meant rather frequently actually – he’d hold his breath and go to the bottom of the pool. And it wasn’t anyone’s business whether or not he contemplated if he should come up for air. He’d close his eyes as the lack of oxygen burned his lungs and his body screamed at him to come up to the surface. He resisted it. And it was so peaceful. In the end though, his body would always win and he would come up gasping for breath.

He did that today, and for the briefest moment, he could picture how nice it would be if he just didn’t come up. For a moment, that almost came true. But once he came up, he let out a laugh. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he. Thinking he could just be free of it all that easily. Who did he think he was? Grayson Hawthorne needed to be perfect.

But he knew the truth. No matter how perfect he got, he would never be perfect enough.

And maybe one day, he could finally stop treading the water, fighting tooth and nail to stay above the rising tide that threatens to overwhelm him. Maybe someday the water would slowly start to lower. But until then, he guessed he just had to hope he didn’t drown.

Somewhere in his mind he knew the truth: it was already too late. He was beyond the point of saving. He was already drowning.

He had already drowned.

[femoso-seben]

Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 2: Bullets and Pots

pt.1 pt.2, pt. 3

You stare at them. And they stared at you. You grow and twist your arms until the rope becomes loose. You really had to remove the bullet from your head. You violently dislocated your shoulder and pulled your left hand free.

You throw your head forward dislodging the bullet in your head. You reach into the hole pull out the bullet and drop it onto the ground. You rotate your neck before freeing your other arm.

“You know it’s impolite to shoot someone from that distance.” You hum as the hole in your head begins to close. “Next time shoot me up close, so the bullet doesn’t get stuck.”

You reach down untie your feet, stand up, and walk toward the group. “What with those expressions? It seems like you're seeing a zombie—“

Bang!

Another bullet hits you point blank in the face. You fall backward as they lay more bullets into your body. They quietly stare at each other before leaving, your eyes open and you stand up in the empty… where were you?

It didn’t matter you picked up your bag and left. As you leave the large room you hear a low voice talking. We’re they still here? Might as well scare the shit out of them.

“Hey,” you round the corner as a bullet hits you in the heart. You stare down at the hole in your chest. “That’s not very nice.” You look up shaking your head.

“How the fuck are you still alive?”

“I’m immortal.”

“We killed you.”

“You tried.”

They stared at you with horror in their eye. You were still alive. I looked down at their map, they were planning something.

“Mmh, colonizing shit, you make your ancestors proud.” You look up at the British military men. They give you a cold look.

Ghost raises his gun, “Don’t waste your bullets on me.” You say not looking at him. “We both know it won’t work.” He slowly lowers his gun and looks down at you.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m Egyptian…. I’m from Egypt. This is my home territory.” You’d rate the obvious.

“How old are you?” Soap folds his arm curious about the answer.

“About 5,000 years old.” You casually stare looking down at your ruined clothes. “I was born a little after Egypt was unified. So about 5,000 years old.” You looked him in the face.

“How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“We didn’t have science back then!” I shout at Soap.

“I’m older than your Goddamn country, show me some respect!”

“You act like a bratty child.” Ghost hums looking at you with annoyance.

“I am still 20, there’s a dichotomy, between my age and my mental age. I’ve been through a lot and processed it like a 20-year-old.” You explain. The mustache man nods somewhat understanding.

“You do act your age.”

“What you guys doing?” You stand on your tippy toes trying to catch a glimpse of what they're doing. They move to block your view.

“This is private information.”

“Geez ok,” you put your hands up, “it’s not like I’m gonna retain that information. It’s not important to me.”

“Why do you wanna know then?”

“Because I’m nosy,” you shrug. In this decade you decided to be the most immature person ever, to truly act your mental age. A little dumb and completely insufferable.

“Anyways I need to head back… I’m thinking the lady I’m staying with is looking for me.” You begin to walk off, humming a tune so old it was ingrained in your very soul.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“Back to my Airbnb,” you turn around spreading your arms to the mustache man. “Don’t worry I won’t mention you, all four of you aren’t worthy to be remembered.” You give them a bow and Waltz out.

You have rented the Airbnb for a month. you open the door and set your bag down. If the police are looking for you, you're going to have to call in and clear up the misinformation. You take a shower and change to less damaged bloody clothes.

“Hey is this the police?… this is yn… I wasn’t missing just went on a spiritual journey without my phone… sorry for the inconvenience… of course, I’ll tell someone next time.” You hung up, bored and slightly numb.

You should call in that temple site, and get your pots in a museum; not the British Museum, but a local one. You found the right phone number of an old colleague.

“Hey is mister Renfield there? Yes, this is Sofia, Mary’s daughter. Me and my mother stumble across a hidden temple.” News travels fast and you soon we’re back in your temple this time willingly and unstuck.

“Sofia,” you look up.

“Look at these pots, they are your specialty,” Benjamin said. He was an archeologist from America helping with the dig.

“These are in great condition,” you hum, of course, they are. Nobody touched them but you. “These artifacts might tell us more about this temple.”

“This site gonna be a new tourist attraction.” You smile but deep inside you hate the idea of random people ruining your sacred temple.

You walk the street at night. You didn’t need sleep, you didn’t need food, you didn’t need water. But you like those things, they make you feel more mortal more human. You found it ironic you wanted to be human again when for many years you’ve seen yourself as a god amongst men.

“These pots look expensive.” You froze and looked to your right.

“We can sell this to the British Museum.”

Hell no!

You begin to walk down the alleyway, those pots— must have come from your site. Those were your pots, nobody else but yours. You found three men packing them into boxes.

“What do you think you're doing with my pots?” You coldly asked in Arabic. They turn to you like deer in headlights. One pulls out a gun and threatens to shoot. You stare at them coldly arms folded.

“Back off bitch!”

“Why?” You walk closer and they frown. They turn to each other and begin to speak another language.

You could understand them. They were talking about your looks. They could sell you. Or harvest your organs. You frown if they discover your immortality they keep you as a slave.

“Human trafficking?” They froze and turned to you horrified. You knew the second language too. You pull out your tactical whip and hit the one with the gun. You took the gun and turned it on them.

“Take me to your hideout.” You demand. You will take all the artifacts they have stolen back. They slowly took you to an abandoned warehouse at the end of the city. They tried to take the gun back but your whip took good care of their attempts.

It hurt like hell and it culled their attempts to fight you. You knocked out both men, with one hard punch and tied them up with the rope you carried in your bag. You enter the abandoned warehouse. It was mostly empty, besides the shit tone of guns, but you didn’t care for that.

“Damn, what is this? An incels’ wet dream?” You mutter staring at the boxes of guns.

You walk around taking in all the stuff. Most of it was military, not your problem. You found your artifacts all in a single box with little care put into it. You deer in frustration. You pull out your phone to call in the stolen items and the military-grade gun.

“Hello, police?”

“Price over here.” Your voice does as you slowly lookout to find those four military men. You end the call and stand up.

“Hey.”

Bang!

“Hey, these pots are old!” You yell back trying to protect the box.

“What are you doing here,” mustache man roars in anger.

“Stolen museum pots!”

“How can we trust you?” They all had their guns pointed at you. You roll your eyes.

“I’m an archeologist first, a historian second, and a bitch lastly. I don’t give a shit about your damn mission only these pots!” They turn to each other. Was she for real? They look at you. Yes, she is.

“Alright you're here for pots, how did you get here.”

“Two looters try to steal my temple pot.”

“How did you take out two men?”

“Tactical whip,” you hold up your metallic whip. Soap sighed and the mustache man simply covered his eyes.

“Does it work?”

“Very well.”

“I’m going to call the police—“

“No, we’re going to call the military.” Mustache man interrupted you. You sigh and stretch your arms.

“Alright, when they get here just tell them that box is historically important.” You pick up your stuff and begin to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“You guys got this handle, and I still need to report another problem.” You wave your hand.

“Let’s not meet up again.” You state as you leave the warehouse.

You called in the temple pot theft and your colleagues explained the frustrating situation. Looters are the first enemy of knowledge and history.

Bang!

You fall forward and your world turns black.