#but i think maybe ive set my heart on something that i can only achieve that way

[bismuthburnsblue]

not gonna lie to you, ive reached the "what if i buy goldwork strands and tarnish them myself and make my own trim" stage of the lady stede design process

.... actually thats not a half bad idea

[actualbird]

Oh god!

I really love the poly headcanons they are so sweet.... (or don't but that's part of it and i think the tot boys+MC deserve all the love the world has to give).

But, liking it or not, our 4 beloved boys are kinda complicated (that's what makes them perfect). Plus I never thought about how people get in poly relationships. So i was thinking, how do you think they all get into a polyrelationship together?

(I really have no idea of how that would happen)

hi, two anons!! im glad you guys liked my nxx team polycule stuff!! i'll answer these in one go, my "headcanon" (in quotes because i think this kinda turned into a character analysis/minific of sorts HAHA) being what first anon asked, How They Get Together.

heads up, wc of this is 1.9k words long so buckle up for a bit of a read jfsjdfkjbf

because first anon, youre right!!! the boys are stupendously complicated which i love so so much but canon has also shown us clearly that each of the boys' quirks and habits and tendencies causes a lot of (mostly played for laughs) friction. the bickering, the backhanded insults, the "im the best one here" preening contests. theyre all SOOOO RIDICULOUS and it is hilarious but yep! the boys r complex!! and that means this beautiful ship, imo, has a lot of phases to get to the actual romantic relationship bit.

how they get together, in my opinion, starts because of mc.

not in the sense that she matchmakes them all, but like.

phase 1 of the nxx team polycule is this:

through being in love with her (which we all know the boys 100% are), each of the boys come to terms with their own flaws and weaknesses. it's very apparent to me in all the story thus far that these boys are flawed as hell, it's very compelling but even more compelling to me is how all of them also do intense mental gymnastics to Not Confront Those Flaws. like, marius is a dickbag always teasing and toeing the line of insincerity, vyn is a controlling mf who always tries to sway situations to his benefit, artem is so repressed to the point that he has genuine trouble with emotions, luke is a self sacrificial bastard and also a huge hypocrite about how no, actually, hes the only one that should be hiding his pain and being dishonest, no dishonesty from other people!! in the beginning of the story, all the boys have their flaws and seem to have just kinda...not addressed how those flaws are harming them and the people around them.

and then mc rolls around and they all fall in love with her. and she sees those flaws and she doesnt let them slide. she challenges the boys in her own ways to see another side of the situation, to acknowledge what theyre doing. she doesnt want to get rid of flaws, thats impossible and also not cool. she just has this beautiful hope for like, all of humanity, that goodness can prevail with the right work. so when she sees her beloved nxx boys, she believes that for them as well.

which leads to phase 2 of the nxx team polycule:

the boys, more aware of themselves, become more aware of each other.

they werent Unaware of the others of course. it's just that they didnt like...truly connect on a personal level just yet. they saw the other teammembers with their emotional armor and flaws and saw a wall that wasnt worth looking past.

but after mc makes them realize that hey, flaws arent the end of the world actually, it's alright and the person behind them may just be worth it, the boys like. end up understanding the others. A LOT OF THIS BIT IS UNINTENTIONAL, ON THEIR PARTS KJDSBFS. like they stumble into understanding each other by accident, they didnt plan it, but over the course of nxx investigations, it's inevitable that they end up seeing the depths of the others. i delve into this a little bit in my fanfic "filler eps of the lost gold" where the boys are just going thru their actions and then trip over another boy's fears or desires and through that, gain a deeper understanding mutually.

and with understanding, sometimes, comes trust.

phase 3 of the nxx team polycule goes like this:

everybody in this team, whether they like it or not, whether they know it or not, has a heart that wants to give love so desperately.

marius lives in a world full of snakes so he cant have his heart on his sleeve for his own protection. vyn wants to be seen as perfect and the heart is inherently messy so he holds it back. artem for a very very long time was focused on work and success and achievement that he neglected his heart. and luke has been giving love all his life in a sense but in a way thats hidden.

all these tendencies that are brought upon their life circumstances results in this: they want to love honestly but they havent been able to do this

until mc. and all of them want to push back whatever fears or patterns their life has instilled in them because they see her and see somebody so unwaveringly good that all their hearts begin giving love to her to make her happy and to make themselves happy as well.

but heres the thing. the boys dont just see mc. by this point, they have connected and understood and come to trust each other as well, and the consequence of that is that They Can See Each Other Now Too, Truly.

and heres the thing. all of the boys are unwaveringly good as well.

one by one, each of the boys realize that what they feel for the other boys in the team starts to...change. yeah theyre all friends, they pick on each other a lot of the time, but the bedrock of the relationship is solid and strong now. but when marius is with luke, marius sees a light inside of luke so bright that he seems unaware that he gives off. when artem is with vyn, artem sees a goodness inside of vyn that hesitates to make itself obvious and known because vyn is scared of getting hurt thanks to it. all of them see the other and their goodness and, unbidden, their hearts want to give love to each other as well.

and because theyre all a bit stupid in their own way theyre like, huh, weird! wonder why this feeling is so familiar! and yet i cant seem to name it...and then they all independently compare these feeling with the feelings they have for mc, a feeling they do know the name of, and theyre like.

WAIT.

THESE FEELINGS ARE...VERY BASICALLY EXACTLY WHAT I FEEL FOR MC.

which only means one thing: theyve fallen in love with everybody else

marius: //goes to his studio to Think and sees that a bunch of his recent art actually had little crumbs of these feelings already, etched into the brushstrokes and scenes. has an emotional crisis about it

vyn: //records a 1 hour long entry in his audio diary to examine and gain control of his feelings but by the end of the hour all he knows is that he wants to hold these people and be held by them

artem: //quite literally just bluescreens, artem.exe has stopped working, sits at his study and slowly, slowly, thunks his head down onto his desk, valiantly trying to ignore the fast pulse of his heart

luke: //manically vents about it to peanut who, by virtue of being a bird, doesnt get it. just keeps talking at peanut to get a grasp of it all and then lies down on the floor, overwhelmed

mc, sitting in her apartment watching some netflix: ...why do i inexplicably feel as if something very, very important has just happened?

phase 4 of the nxx team polycule is basically:

pining: extreme difficulty level

because pining is already hard when ur pining for one person. what more for an additional 3 more people. and those additional 3 more people are pining back.

and all these boys are SOOOO OBVIOUS with their romantic feelings, in their own special way. the way they show their affection to mc starts to bleed into their interactions with the others and everybody can CLEARLY SEE WHAT IS GOING ON, LOL, but also all the boys are too chickenshit to confront it, because if they confront it, what will even happen??? being in love with each other, all of them, thats going to be such a complicated fucking relationship, holy shit. it's 2030, yeah, being a polyamorous group relationship isnt completely unheard of, but sue them, theyre scared.

but mc (who i forgot to mention already knows of the boys' romantic feelings for her, shes just hasnt made a move yet on any of them because SHES IN LOVE WITH ALL OF THEM AS WELL and shes been trying to figure out how the hell to make that work, she cant bear to choose just one of them, she'd be heartbroken over leaving the rest of them behind) sees that the nxx investigation team is now all pining for each other FULLY and she kinda wants to laugh when she realizes whats going on because like, what are the chances? that this would happen? that they all found each other and their feelings fell into just the right place for nobody to be left behind?

theyre all scared, she can tell. and she is as well, she wont lie.

but shes always had a belief that goodness can prevail with the right work.

and love is one of the greatest goods out there.

phase 5 of the nxx team polycule:

It's Time For Communication, Baby!!!!!

the exact scenes of how this happens is a bit vague to me. it could go two ways: mc going to each of the boys independently to talk about feelings, hers about everybodys and his about everybodys as well. OR they have a fucking meeting about it all together and artem literally schedules it in his google calendar, or something.

either way, they like, actually talk about this. starts casual, maybe over a chill date, maybe over dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe over a walk in the park as the sun is starting to set. but where ever it happens, the end result is the same: a heart is laid out bare and it is taken in gentle, grateful hands.

marius: OKAY, NOW THAT THE FEELINGS ARE OUT OF THE WAY, CAN I PLEASE KISS ONE OR ALL OF YOU, PLEASE, IVE BEEN WANTING TO KISS U GUYS FOR FOREVER

vyn, laughing fondly: has anybody ever told you patience is a virtue? we quite literally just talked it all out.

marius: //needy whining noises

artem, embarrassed: ive...never kissed anybody before

luke, embarrassed but trying to play it Cool: ....same here

mc: kissing is great, you two will love it!

marius: awesome, awesome, so is ANYBODY going to give me a go ahead or WHAT????

phase 6 of the nxx team polycule:

i dont want to say it's happily ever after, once they all get together. thats not really realistic.

they all have their quirks and tendencies and habits. and those will inevitable clash against each other. theyll have their arguments, theyll get upset, theyll sulk and be angry, sometimes. but also...

theyll see each other smile and feel like their love shining so brightly. theyll reach out for another's hand and be held in such a way that makes them think that their heart is in a safe place. theyll love each other and theyll put in the work to continue loving each other. because goodness will prevail.

and they all see each other as the most good people in the world.

so whatever happens, theyll get through it together.

[samanthadalton]

Star Crossed Lovers (part 14)

Do my eyes deceive me???? part 14???? we did it. im so sorry its taken forever, i will try my best to be more consistent with my writing. love yall for being patient with me it means the most. thank you, thank you. 

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

warnings: angst, swearing (lots of it) 

taglist: @drmmyrs @cloud9in @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @fall3ngods @helpconfusedpersonhere @clowneryme @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @vonda-b-real @uselesslesbianfr @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @somethindarker (sorry again if ive missed anyone, if you wanna be added on this taglist or my general one just let me know 😊) 

word count: 4k (i feel like its short considering how long it took me to write but i still hope you guys enjoy) (also i didnt check for grammatical errors properly so sorry if you find any) 

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

The first steps to moving on 

“Bea please,” Poppy whispers, a repentant look creeping up to her face as she looks away from her girlfriend. “It can’t wait.” 

Bea sighs, her shoulders slumping as the last remains of her anger disseminates from her body. “Okay fine, lead the way babe.” 

Poppy stiffens that the pet name but she doesn’t let her awkwardness slip as she leads Bea to a secluded classroom, far away from prying eyes. Both her and Bea turn to look at each other, and both simultaneously open their mouths to talk. 

“I know you wanted to tell-” 

“We need to talk-” 

Both clamp their lips shut, a mutual smile playing on their lips as they look at one another. 

“You go first,” Poppy gestures towards Bea, as she moves to sit on the edge of a desk. 

Bea inhales softly, her tongue darts out licking her lips as she looks down at the ground, her face calculating. “Why does Chloe hate me?” She looks up to Poppy, her eyes boring into the strawberry blonde’s, sadness swimming inside of them, “I just don’t get what I’ve done for her to hate me.” 

Poppy sighs heavily, her eyes awkwardly darting away from Bea’s. “It’s complicated Bea.” 

“Complicated?” Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I almost just went off on Chloe after she gave her condolences for my mom dying because I just felt she wasn’t genuine and you wanna tell me it's complicated?” 

Poppy sharply inhales, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “it’s because of your mom.” 

Bea scrunches her brows up in confusion, “my mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?” 

Poppy ineptly plays with her hands, not being able to look Bea in her eyes, “at first it was just a classist thing. When you first came to Belvoire, she just wanted to make herself feel superior over you, but in the last year you’ve noticed her getting more mean right?” 

“Right.” Bea stares at Poppy, her expression emotionless. 

“Chloe’s parents have been fighting non stop recently, and it’s been affecting her a lot.” 

Bea’s brows furrow in confusion, “what does that have to do with me or my mom?” 

“Just let me explain first before you react, please.” Bea’s eyes bore into Poppy’s for a few seconds before she nods understandingly. “Her dad cheated on her mom. A lot of times actually. But he was blackmailed by one of the women he slept with.” Poppy pauses for a few seconds, “your mom.” 

Bea lets out a shaky breath, her eyes blinking in disbelief, “no, you’re lying.” 

Poppy nervously bites her bottom lip, “look Bea-” 

“How long have you known?”

Poppy’s face scrunches up in anger, “this isn’t my fault Bea. I only found out that day I went to talk to Chloe about us. Chloe made me promise not to say anything to you-” 

“Poppy! My mom OD and I don’t even know why. And now you’re telling me she was blackmailing the St James family and it doesn’t occur to you that might have had something to do with her death?” 

“They’re not the fucking mafia Bea, jesus. They were trying to settle it quietly by giving your mom some money and make her sign some stuff so she couldn't threaten them anymore.” 

The devastating ramification of Poppy’s admission hangs in the air as the two girls let the words settle into them. “Chloe really is sorry about your mom Bea, we all are.” 

Bea sighs, staring off into space, as a few tears begin to fill up in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” Bea begins sniffling, but Poppy makes no movement to console her girlfriend. Bea notices and her expression sobers, “so, uh what did you wanna tell me?” Bea sniffs a few more times, before looking up at Poppy, giving her a small encouraging smile. 

Poppy looks away, guilt creeping up on her face, as she tries her damndest not to catch Bea’s small smile on her face. “Bea…”. Bea carefully assesses her girlfriend’s demeanour, noticing the similar body language during when they first asked to take a break, she thinks back to the last couple of days, she had barely heard from her girlfriend, and now she’s not affectionate, even after she almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway and her smile drops. “We have to break up,” Poppy says, her tone so monotone and dry as if she didn’t mean the words she was saying at all. 

“I don’t understand,” is all Bea can muster, evidently hurt by Poppy’s admission. Poppy winces slightly at Bea’s tone, finally breaking her robotic demeanour as she lets out a few sniffles. “So is that it? We have to break up,” Bea retorts mockingly, “is that all I get after all these years?” 

“Bea..” Poppy reaches out but Bea immediately takes a step back, tears flooding in her eyes. 

“No,” she holds her hands up, “I don’t get it, things are going good, or at least whatever twisted definition of good we’ve made up. Where the hell did this come from?” 

“Bea my dad-” 

“Of course! Hayden Min fucking Sinclair had something to do with this. Why do you still live under his shadow? You talk all this shit about breaking out of your father’s prison and wanting to achieve your own goals but he sucks you back in.” 

“That’s not fair Bea,” Poppy interjects, balling her hands up into fists in an attempt to subdue her trembling, “my dad has given me so much and he’s threatening to take it all away.” 

“Yeah, all you have to do is get rid of me. Me or the Min Sinclair name.” 

“Bea this is the life I have, okay I’m not like you, I’m not built like you.” 

“So what? I can grow up without a dad and now without a mom but it’s okay because I’m used to pain and disappointment?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, you have a plan, things you can achieve, I need the Min Sinclair name, I’m nothing without it.” 

“Wow.” Bea shakes her head, “So I just meant nothing?” Bea wildy throws her arms in the air, anger bubbling under the surface of her demeanour. “We’ve practically been together since we were kids. And you’re just gonna fucking throw that away? And for what? Fuck you Poppy.” 

Poppy takes half a step back, dumbfounded by Bea’s outburst. She scrunches her brows, evidently hurt, “you don’t get it Bea. Even though your mom wasn’t the best, she still supported you, even if you didn’t know about it. My dad he- my mom what would she think?” 

“Your mom? Poppy what kind of shit is your dad brainwashing you with? Your mom is dead! You have no idea how she would react to having a gay daughter, but I know she’s probably disappointed in you.” 

“Fuck you Bea.”Poppy runs out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face, leaving Bea on her own. 

“Shit,” Bea whispers to herself before throwing a bunch of punches at the wall, each more cathartic than the last until she can’t physically hold herself up anymore. Bea defeatedly slides into a chair, cradling her head in between her hands, letting the tears free fall, as reality begins setting in that she lost the one thing in the world that was her everything. Poppy Min Sinclair was her rock, the girl who she gave her heart to, the love of her life and just in a matter of moments it was over. Maybe it was too good to be true. The beautiful, perky popular rich girl and the girl who had almost nothing, complete polar opposites, it never should’ve worked. But time and time again when faced against the world they persevered so why was this time different? Poppy had chosen her namesake over the love of her life. She chose the life of glitz and glamour over the girl who gave her her entire heart. Bea feels her entire world crashing down, how much more heartbreak could she take? Was her life always going to be so hard? So full of hurt? Full of pain? She winces at the thought, her head hammering as she comes to the realisation that she understood her mother’s pain more than she thought. 

…. 

Bea hops off her bike, parking it in front of her house, as she pulls her phone out to look at the time. ‘It’s lunch time,’ she thinks to herself. After the day she had today, school wasn’t the best option for her right now. She makes her way to her front door but stops in her tracks when she realises her front door is slightly ajar. Her survival instincts kick in as she effortlessly pulls out her pocket knife, carefully pushing the door fully open. As she steps into the living room, her eyes dart to the closed door of her mother’s room, but when she hears a creaking sound coming towards her bedroom, she cautiously moves towards the source of the noise, the grip on her knife tightening. As she creeps up, she sees the door of her room half opened, a hooded figure standing by her bed with their back facing her. 

Bea stealthily sneaks up to the figure placing the knife a few inches from their throat before lowering her voice to a threatening tone, “who are you and what the fuck are you doing?” The figure gasps, dropping a bag that’s in their hands with a deafening thud before raising their hands in a sign of surrender. 

“It’s me, it’s me,” the voice whimpers out. 

“AJ?” Bea raises her eyebrows, retracting the knife from his throat while pulling down his hood with her other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bea takes a step back while AJ scrambles grabbing the bag he just dropped moments before. When he turns to face Bea, his eyes are wide, filled with fear as he clutches the bag closely to his chest. 

“I have to go,” he says as he attempts to run out of the room, but Bea pulls him back, her face crumpled in suspicion. 

“No we’re not doing this, give me the bag now,” Bea snatches the bag out of his hands before he can protest and opens the zipper to find it filled with cash. She grits her teeth, anger settling into her features as she whips her head up to AJ, “is this my fucking money?” 

“Bea, I- I can explain-” 

“What the fuck AJ!” Bea throws the bag onto the bed, the cash spilling out as she jabs an accusing finger at AJ’s chest. “You’re stealing from me now? I haven’t seen you in god knows how long, you don’t call, text nothing. Even after everything that’s been happening in the last few weeks but you have the audacity to fucking steal from me? Money that I’ve spent years saving? Money that I’ve bussed my fucking ass off for, are you serious right now?” Bea’s voice is filled with rage as she’s practically screaming, her voice now thundering. AJ winces, guiltily averting his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Bea’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry about your mom Bea, I wanted to visit-” AJ croaks out.

“But you didn’t,” Bea interjects, her voice lowered but filled with hurt. “And now you’re taking money- I mean what is so important you had to steal from me.” 

AJ paces towards the bed, hanging his head in shame, when he speaks his voice is quiet, full of fear, “I’m in some bad shit Bea. These guys aren’t playing around.” 

“I told you not to fall into the wrong crowd, I warned you this shit would happen.” 

“Bea please, I’ll pay you back I just need it.” 

“No! What the fuck, when will you pay me back huh? This is my college money, I’m not letting you give that away to your crackhead friends.” 

“Bea please,” AJ clasps his hands together, his tone pleading, “I don’t know what to do.” 

“AJ I have too much shit on my plate right now, I can’t deal with this. You need to find something else, I can’t help you.” 

AJ’s face pales but he stands up, and makes his way towards the door, before leaving he turns to look back at Bea, “I’m sorry about everything.” 

Bea keeps her eyes trained on her bed where the money is sprawled all over the mattress, “yeah me too,” she replies quietly. Bea hears the front door close and she collapses to the ground, letting the tears flow. 

……

A few days later, Bea sits in her dark living room, curtains shut and lights completely off as she wallows in her sadness, drinking from a bottle of cheap beer, as she stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, so drowned in her thoughts she doesn’t hear the resounding knocks on her door until she hears a voice call out, “Bea! Are you there?” 

Bea crumples her brows, forcing herself to stand as she makes her way to the door, she wearily makes her way to her front door only slightly opening the door before poking her head out. “Veronica?” Veronica gives the girl a wide smile before pushing the door more open, ushering the figure behind her into the house too, “Carter? What are you guys doing here?’ 

Veronica looks around the dark room, noticing the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, “yikes, drinking on your own on a friday night Hughes? That’s really sad.” Carter stands near the edge of the living room, as if he’s an explorer, his eyes darting all over the living room as he assesses this new environment. 

Bea on the other hand scowls at Veronica, “what the hell do you want Veronica, I’m not in the mood.” 

Veronica frowns slightly, pouting her lips together, “we heard about you and Poppy.” 

Bea rolls her eyes, “yeah well I’m trying to forget about her.” Bea picks up her beer bottle from the ground and makes a show by exaggeratingly drinking from the bottle until it's empty. She discards the empty bottle along with the other ones before turning to look at Veronica and Carter, “so if you’ll excuse me.” 

Veronica steps towards Bea, wrapping her hand around the brunette’s arm, “we’re not here for Poppy stupid, we’re here for you.” 

Bea raises an eyebrow, “for me?” 

Veronica turns to look at Carter, beckoning him forward, Carter breaks out of reverie and clears his throat, “yeah uh, we wanted to take you to a party.” 

“A party?” Bea looks between them confused, “I’m not that interested guys.”

“Wait, wait, wait Bea,” Veronica pleads, pulling Bea closer to her, “you’ve never been to a Belvoire party and the year is almost over, we thought we should take you to at least.” 

“I don’t know guys,” Bea says skeptically, “a lot of people don’t like me.” 

“Who gives a shit? You just had your heart broken and you need to let loose.” 

Bea sighs, pulling away from Veronica, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“Come on, it beats drinking in the dark on your own.” 

Bea sighs, dropping her shoulders, “what about uh Poppy?” 

“Poppy?” Veronica arches a brow, “her and Chloe are staying in tonight, she said she needed to catch up on homework or something.” 

Bea purses her lips together in thought before sighing,  “fine.” Veronica cheers, “but,” Bea over enunciates, “only for a few hours and if I don’t like it I’m going home.” 

“Okay, deal,” Veronica squeals, wrapping Bea in a big hug. Carter chuckles as Veronica gestures for him to join the hug, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the two girls, before pulling away. 

“Okay, I’ll wait in the car while you girls get ready. Just uh don’t take too long.”

Veronica playfully rolls her eyes as she Bea towards her bedroom, yelling back “thanks Carter.” Giddy, she rushes to Bea’s closest, assessing her clothes until she finds a short red dress hidden in the back. “This!” 

“No, no, no,” Bea shakes her head, pulling the dress out of the ombre-haired girl’s hands. 

“Why not? It would look so hot on you,” Veronica’s eyes trail down Bea’s body, as she sharply inhales. “Bea, you’re single and sexy, stop holding yourself back okay?” 

“I’m not,” Bea pushes back defensively, “I just-” she sighs heavily, “no one at Belvoire has ever seen me dressed up, I’m just- I’m nervous I guess.” 

“Then we have to show them what they’ve been missing for the last three years,” Veronica gives Bea a devilish smile as she takes the dress from Bea’s hands, sliding the dress off the hanger before handing it over to Bea. 

“Uh you gonna stay in the room?” Bea nervously wrings her hands together. 

“Why, are you offering a show?” Veronica lifts a teasing brow, noticing Bea’s cheeks redden slightly, which prompts her to let out a small laugh, “I’m kidding, don’t worry I won’t look.” Veronica makes a show of raising her hands to cover her eyes. Bea laughs as she slips out of her clothes and into the dress, she awkwardly clears her throat, grabbing Veronica’s attention. 

“Hey, uh help a girl out with her zipper?” 

“Sure,” Veronica moves to stand behind Bea, her hands ghosting around Bea’s exposed back, her breath momentarily taken away. She sturdies herself and places one of her hands on the small of the brunette’s back while the other moves towards the zipper, zipping the girl up. Bea smooths the dress down with her hands appreciating herself in the mirror, “you look gorgeous,” Veronica whispers into the shell of her ear. 

Bea’s face completely flushes red and slightly jerks at Veronica’s admission, “uhh thanks.” 

Veronica notices the awkward shift in the atmosphere, and promptly changes the subject, “so where’s your sister?” 

Bea sits in front of her mirror, a comb in her hand as she brushes her long locks, “she’s staying at a friend’s tonight.” 

“Cool,” Veronica answers back but her tone falls flat. The girls bask in the awkward silence as Bea continues to get ready but when Veronica notices Bea struggling to do her winged eyeliner she breaks the silence. “Hey do you need help?” 

Bea smiles bashfully, “yeah.” She rubs the back of her head with her hand, “sorry Poppy used to help me with my makeup.” 

“Right,” Veronica’s face slightly falls but she quickly covers it up, ushering Bea to come and sit on the bed. “Come on, I don’t bite,” Veronica bites the bottom of her lip, “unless you want me too.” Bea laughs but obliges sitting on the edge of the bed. Veronica clambers onto her lap, her thighs settling on the sides of Bea’s legs, and in response, Bea’s eyes widen in surprise but she remains glued in her spot, too shocked to move. 

“V, what are you doing?” Bea whispers, her voice attempting to come across as reprimanding but it comes out as breathy. 

“Relax, I’m just doing your eyeliner.” Veronica plucks the wand from Bea’s hand and angles herself close to the brunette’s face, as she begins drawing on the wings on Bea’s eyelids. Bea steadies herself, as she feels the heat of Veronica’s body so close to hers and when Veronica is finished with putting the finishing touches on her eyelids, she hops off Bea’s lap, making her way towards the desk, scuffling through Bea’s makeup bag before taking up her place on Bea’s lap once again. “Now I think this colour would look good on you,” 

“You don’t think it’s too much red?” 

“Oh babe, red means power, dominance, you don’t wanna be thinking about Poppy the entire night, you wanna have all eyes on you Bea Hughes.” Veronica uncaps the lipstick, her eyes burning into Bea’s lips as she carefully applies the red colour to her lips. “Perfect.” 

Bea smacks her lips together, evenly spreading the red on her lips. “Thanks V.” 

Veronica’s eyes dart to Bea’s lips, her tongue slightly running along her bottom lips before she breaks out of her reverie flashing Bea a smirk, “don’t thank me yet, thank me when you’re having the time of your life at the party.” Veronica slides off Bea’s lap, holding her hand out, “come on let’s finish up because Carter’s been waiting for a while.” Bea smiles up at Veronica, taking her hand as she lets the ombre-haired girl pull her off the bed, as they continue getting ready. 

………

Once they arrive at the party, Carter drops the girls off at the front of the huge house before telling them he will park the car. Veronica’s gaze darts to Bea, who’s nervously toying with her hands, looking up at the intimidating house, the lights blaring and as the music echoes throughout, the bass thumping in their ears. Noticing the nerves settling into her, Veronica slips into Bea's, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just a bunch of drunk, preppy uptight teenagers, nothing you don't usually face everyday.” 

Bea lets out a small laugh, “just in a big ass house,” she jests. 

“Yeah, just in a big ass house,” she gives Bea a light squeeze as she starts pulling Bea into the house with her. Automatically, they’re met with stares and whispers, as the students look astonished at Bea, some appraising her outfit, while others are confused about her presence. “Hey, just stay with me okay?” Veronica whispers over to Bea. Bea nods, her eyes roaming the room. “I’ll get us drinks.” The ombre-haired girl gives Bea a reassuring pat on her arm and leaves her side and Bea walks into the living room, observing the difference between the vibes of the party between the north and the south. Her thoughts then move to think about Poppy, how Poppy would love going to parties in the north but Bea couldn’t find the appeal in it. Poppy. Poppy, who broke up with her. She’s interrupted from her thoughts by a tap of her shoulder, and Bea turns around to see Veronica offering her a red solo cup, Bea takes a sip and winces. 

“What the hell is this crap?” 

“Yeah for a bunch of rich kids, their taste in beer isn’t the best,” Veronica jokes, slightly nudging Bea. 

“We have way better beer in the south side.” 

“That I can agree with.” Veronica looks over to Bea who looks lost in thought, “hey what are you thinking about?” 

Bea sighs heavily, “Poppy,” she mutters. 

Veronica nods once, “right, yeah.” 

“Poppy would’ve loved a party like this, big fancy house an-” 

“Bea,” Veronica says, her tone slightly agitated, “this,” she gestures around the room, “is a no Poppy zone. That means we don’t think about Poppy, only about fun.” 

Bea nods, “fun. I can do that.” Veronica lifts her cup in the air, “what are we cheering to?” 

Veronica gives Bea a smile, “here’s to the first steps in moving on.” The girls tap their cups together before downing their drinks. “Now if we wanna get drunk, we’re gonna need a lot more of these.” 

The party is still ongoing, and Bea sits in a circle with a few girls from the volleyball team and a few of the football team and other people she doesn’t recognise while Veronica sits beside her. 

“Bea you look so pretty,” one of her teammates says. 

“Yeah Bea your makeup is literally gorgeous,” another chimes in. 

“Who knew strip tease can clean up well,” Ford jests, but Bea slumps her shoulders a little, remembering that these people are not her friends. 

Carter enters the circle slapping Ford on the head as he goes, “shut up, Hughes is cool.” Bea gives Carter a nod of appreciation before looking down at the drink in her hands. Her thoughts move a million miles a minute, but there’s a constant one stuck in her brain, Poppy.

Veronica looks over at Bea, frowning. “Hey come with me.” She stands, excusing herself from the group and Bea follows her close behind. 

“Where are we going?” 

“We’re gonna play a private game of truth or drink.” 

[poptod]

hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!

Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k

+

Okay. It isn't that bad.

Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.

Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.

This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.

They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.

Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.

It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.

Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.

The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.

This is a Royal.

"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.

"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."

"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"

"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.

"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."

"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"

"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."

You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.

"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.

"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."

He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.

The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.

He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.

"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.

Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.

One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.

"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.

"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."

"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."

"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.

You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.

That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.

"I..."

Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.

You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.

"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."

"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.

"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."

Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.

The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.

There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.

No fail safe.

You gulp.

"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."

Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.

"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.

"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.

"I'm from the future."

He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.

"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.

"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."

His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"

"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."

"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.

"What do they do?"

"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.

"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.

"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.

"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.

"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."

"Anything."

These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.

At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.

And it kind of makes you sad.

"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.

Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.

"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."

"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.

"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."

"Will it happen in my lifetime?"

He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.

"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."

"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.

"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.

"What did you do in your time?"

"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.

"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."

"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."

"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.

"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."

He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.

Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.

Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.

"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"

"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"

"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.

"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."

As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.

"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.

Think of an excuse, why am I here?

"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse

"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."

Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.

"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."

You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.

"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.

"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."

He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.

You rush away the second he lets your hands go.

[6rookie-writer0110]

The end has arrived, let the darkness take over you

Frank Castle x Male Reader

Request - Okay good i wanna request for a male reader being punisher's sidekick his backstory is that he came from a poor family single mother 2 siblings and a deadbeat dad he wanted to become a doctor to make money for his family and then family got killed during a crossfire between 2 gangs while going shopping so now he wants revenge he gets a knife buys a gun and starts tracking them down and along the way he comes across frank who's badly injured and unconscious so he drags him away to somewhere safe

All your life you grew up poor. Your mother did everything to have food for you and your two siblings, she worked odd jobs to make sure she can buy clothes and food for everyone. There were moments, that everyone went to bed without eating anything. But your father is a piece of shit, he used to abuse you, mom, and your siblings verbally and physically. You started to fight back. You threw his stuff out then changed the locks. He hasn't come back around for a long time and you want to keep it like that.

You want to be a doctor to help people and provide for your family. Your mom would take you and your siblings to the library, you would start to read medical books old and modern. She knows you want to be a doctor, she wants to help you achieve your dream.

Later, your mother takes you and your sibling's shopping, to buy clothes.

”Y/N, here you can finish reading it at home,” Your mom said.

She gave you the medical book, the library doesn't allow people to check out.

”Mom, you stole it?” You smiled.

”Shh, it's our secret. I know you will be a good doctor and we will always support you. It will be hard but you are strong men and you will make it” She said.

You hugged your mom and she kissed your head. Your siblings hugged you too and you hugged them back.

While walking with them to the store, suddenly there is a shoot out between two gangs on the streets. Bullets start to fly everywhere, people start to run for cover.

You get hit in your arm with a stray bullet, you fall down and hit your head and you passed out.

-At the hospital--

You wake up and your arm is in pain. The IV is in your arm and you look around, the cop walked in.

”Where is my family? My mom-”

”I’m sorry. But you will have to identify your family at the morgue” She said.

Tears start to form and you are stunned.

”W-what happened,” You said.

”There was a shootout between two gang rivals, six people died now we are trying to identify them,” She said.

Your heart starts to race, that's the only thing you can hear is your heart. Later, they take you to the morgue and you see your family. You broke down and start to cry, you kneed down and kept crying.

----

What happened between the two gangs and six people died, the news kept talking about it non-stop. But the cops are taking too long to arrest anyone.

You want revenge, you collected newspapers, booked marked social media talking about the crime, and Google the videos of the crime. You go back to the crime scene during late hours. You searched for clues. You know about the two gangs and no one got arrested, that made you angry. You want to take the law into your own hand and do something about it.

-The next night-

You want to buy a gun and a knife. You know where you go and you bought the items, without any trouble. You start to stalk the first gang The blue reapers, you look at them, and you are filled with rage. Now, you start to think about how you will lure them and kill them.

You really don't have a plan. You are just going in there with a gun and knife against a gang. You are standing across the street watching them. Before you left, you heard a huge sound towards the dumpster. You walked towards the dumpster and you see a guy badly beaten up. He is conscious, you did try to wake up him but it didn't work, you tried to pick him up. You take him back to your place and you start to clean his wounds.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

-Next Day-

Frank wakes up and his body is feeling sore. He did struggle to get out of bed, he walked out of the room and he sees you.

”Who are you?” Frank asked.

”I found you unconscious in the alley. I took you here, to stitch you up and you don't need major surgery. My name is Y/N” You said.

”Thank you,” Frank said.

”Don’t worry your gear is fine. It's in the living room... I know who you are” You said.

”You know who I am?” Frank asked.

You nod.

”Help me. Train me, I need to get revenge for those who killed my family. Please train me-”

”I won't train you,” Frank said.

”Why not? I want those two gangs to fall apart. If we don't stop them they will kill winning and kill more people” You said.

”You don't want this lifestyle. The answer is no” Frank said.

”Just give me a chance. I saw you do it before you fight them then kill-”

”I said no!” Frank yelled.

Frank puts back on his gear and left. You sighed and start to think about what to do.

---

A couple of days has passed by, Frank hasbeen thinking about what you said. Frank started to keep an eye on you, but you didn't notice him following you. Later, you found out the first gang’s hideout. You are being reckless, you only have one gun, and there are more than ten people inside the bar.

Frank can see what you are doing. He sighed and called you a dumbass in his mind. Frank moved rapidly, grabbed you by your hoodie, and slammed you hard against the brick wall in the alley.

”What the fuck is wrong with you!?!” Frank growled.

He doesn't let go of you.

”I want them to pay!” You yelled.

”With one gun!? Once you pull out your gun the next you have a bullet in your fucking skull!” Frank growled again.

You and Frank glared at each other.

”Help me stop them. You have the skills and you can be my mentor” You said.

”Go home, before I break your kneecap,” Frank said cold.

He let's go of you and you really want him to train you.

”I work alone,” Frank said.

Frank made sure you walked away. You did go home but the landlord kicked you out because you haven't paid your rent in months. You grabbed your clothes and a family picture and left. You didn't want to go to the homeless shelter so you slept in the park.

---

Frank knows what you're going through and he changed his mind. It wasn't hard for Frank to find you. He did take you to his small apartment which you're grateful. You do sleep on the floor on air a mattress.

Every day Frank showed you how to properly clean a gun, take it apart then put it back together and how to hold a gun. Next Frank would teach you how to pickpocket and it's not easy for you. Because you have to be silent like the wind but you keep messing up. But Frank starts to teach you how to fight but he is not a nice mentor. He hits you hard and he doesn't take it easy.

”Do you think they will go easy on you? Remember, on their mind, they want to kill you either you kill them first or they will kill you” Frank said.

”I won't forget that” You said.

Frank starts to punch you and you start to block his blows. You punched him in the jaw, he almost fell and he is bleeding.

”Not bad, Y/N. Let's keep going” Frank said.

You couldn't help to smirk.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

Weeks went by you have been killing gang members one by one from both sides. Frank does go along with you for backup, you didn't feel bad for killing them. They killed your family and they must pay. You finished killing two people on your own, you are covered in blood.

”Sloppy but remember don't leave any evidence that belongs to you on the crime scene. Let's go” Frank said.

You and Frank leave the dive bar. Across the street, there are security cameras and it caught you leaving the bar bloody.

--

The cops found out that you and Frank have been killing gang members. They want to arrest you and Frank, but they can't find your location. Frank has taught you how to live off the grid.

--

You are ready to kill them. You and Frank did set up a trap to have both gangs in one place at the warehouse. They want revenge because you killed their friends.

”Who the fuck are you?” He asked.

”You don't care about my name. But I’m here to kill all of you” You said.

They just laughed at you and you are glaring at them. You take out your gun and shot one of the guys in the head. His body dropped now everyone stopped laughing.

”You fucking asshole!” He yelled.

Everyone took out their guns but Frank is on the rail, he is using his sniper rifle. Now everyone is starting to shoot, you run and hide behind a shipping crate. You hid your weapon and you take out the Submachine gun.

You come out and you start to kill them. You were going to load but the guy hit you and you dropped the gun. You take out the brass knuckles and put it on. Now you start to fight and you punch him in the face. He killed your family, you got on top of him and you snapped. All the rage you locked inside came out, he is bleeding out fast but you broke his face.

You grabbed your gun and the bullets, you loaded your gun. You start to shoot and more bodies start to drop. Frank run towards you

” Let's go now,” Frank said.

You followed him outside and locked the doors. You and Frank blocked every exit earlier and left bombs inside. You and Frank get away from the warehouse, he gave you the remote.

”When you are ready,” Frank said.

You didn't say anything and you pressed the button. You and Frank watched the warehouse explode.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

You and Frank go to a small diner to eat. You did burn your clothes because it had blood and put on different clothes. You and Frank don't say anything and just kept eating.

”What is your next move, Y/N,” Frank said.

He takes a huge bite from his burger.

”I have nothing else left for me here. We are wanted so I thought maybe I can tag along” You said.

He starts to think and he drinks his soda and you started to eat again.

”Okay, you can come with me to Canada. I have a friend who can help us” Frank said.

You nod.

--

You met Logan, he has been friends with Frank for years. They trust each other now you're friends with Logan. You told him what happened to your family and he understands the pain and he didn't judge you. Logan told you and Frank that the cops is after you two. But you didn't care, now you want to figure out what you will do with your life.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Like her - Bucky Barnes [IV]

Hey guys! Part four and honestly, it’s gonna get a bit messy.. next chapter is going to be a key-point. Again, if you want to be tagged or drop by and give me an idea about this series, please do let me know!  Word Count~2k. MASTERLIST Part I | Part II | Part III

      Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be. But she had no excuse to continue down that path – she was looking at the break of dawn. Sleep had been avoiding her but it wasn’t sleep’s fault – she was too tired for that. She had been waiting for the day her heart would be free and light as a feather - she was fooling herself.             She was doing that thing again, where she started pushing people away. Where she was showing them a glimpse into who she was and why she was the way she was. She was scared they would turn their backs on her. She was scared that when she would need them the most they wouldn’t be there. She was falling so hard and so fast and she knew how it was going to end, she was going to hit the pavement because everyone who had ever promised to catch her, had left. So, she did the only thing she knew how to and that happened to be how to push people away. She became distant, didn’t answer as much as she used to, she hoped he would get the message and leave, so she wouldn’t have to worry about hurting him.                She felt so broken and was slowly trying to pick up the pieces. She was actually more worried about dragging them down with her than the other way around. She was no hero – they had their share in that department. She closed her eyes just for a few seconds and exhaled a long overdue breath. Another day, another try.                    She had been roaming the house like a ghost. She knew that they were awake – or taking turns, to keep an eye and an ear on her, but she couldn’t care less. The strong smell of the coffee filled her lungs and she welcomed the familiarity of the simplicity. Diving into the cup of freshly pressed and brewed coffee, she almost forgot the situation she had put herself into.              “You didn’t sleep all night” a hoarse voice remarked. She smiled inside the cup and without turning to check who it was, she answered.              “Neither did you”. He was impressed by her confident after the last time they had talked. He had pushed her and he acknowledged that – but she erupted like a volcano.                She moved slightly to the left, so he could make his cup of coffee, but didn’t left the spot – it had a wonderful view of the sea and the horizon. Her eyes never left the image outside, but his traveled along her face, studying her through brief glances. Once he realized what he was doing, he focused immensely on the coffee, trying to ignore her soft vanilla scent.              “Why is every tree covered with… mattresses?” she asked perplexed. For a second there, he was lost in the way words flowed, without actually listening to her. He cleared his throat, obnoxiously loud and took a sip of his coffee before replying.          “Sam was practicing with the shield” he informed her casually. Her eyebrows shot to the heavens and a smile made its way to her lips.            “It’s not a Frisbee. Poor trees” she commented with ease. She was sarcastic but in a way that made him want to come up with more lines, just to listen to her comebacks. No, no, no. No.                                  The silence, this time was not as awkward as it was before. Granted, it had only been a day, but she didn’t do what she usually did in a day. He didn’t trust her still, not fully. And she didn’t trust them, not fully. They had to go slow, to get to know one another, to be able to trust that when they found Zemo, no one was betraying the other.              “Could I possibly have my phone back?” she asked after a while. He simply replied with a nope. She inhaled sharply and tried again.                “I have to check my emails, James. And my computer is not connecting to any wi-fi here, so… could I possibly have my phone back?” she restated her question, leaving him little to no room for a negative answer. He put his mug down, and turned to her with his eyebrow arched.             “I’ll supervise” he stated. He wouldn’t badge about it and she knew. It was the best offer she was going to get. She locked her eyes with his. Such a clear gray-ish blue, she could see her reflection.              “Fine” she accepted and he got the phone out of his damn pocket, leaving her with an open mouth in disbelief. To think that she could have kicked him and get it herself. He handed to her and went right next to her, eyes on the screen at all times. She opened her data and her phone was catching up on all of the notifications she had missed. A single cough was enough for her to dismiss them all. At last, she opened up her email app to check if she had received any kind of update to her application, secretly wishing not to.                    When she saw the single email, she had been craving her entire life, which was basically an acceptance letter from her favorite University to perform her research, she felt as if the universe was playing her on purpose. Bucky re ad the email and was more than shocked that she was such a highly valued academic researcher. And then he looked at her, crushed. He thought she would be thrilled about that – but all he saw was sadness and disappointment. She closed the data, dismissed the applications and handed it back to him, without even looking at him.                    Grabbing her cup, she refilled it, in silence and went to sit on the couch. He was about to say something when it hit him. It was everything she wanted and she had actually achieved it – only for it to be taken away by the situation. She was having her dreams crushed once again and he couldn’t do anything. Maybe, he could say something nice. Maybe he didn’t have to be brooding all the time.                    He walked up to her, waiting for her to acknowledge him, not wanting to invade her privacy. But she didn’t and he was curious. He sat down next to her; her whole body was facing the other way. She was making it even more difficult than it already was.              “Soon, you won’t even remember this and you will be conduction your research” he tried to smooth things over but when she turned to face him, his entire face fell. He wasn’t used to that much honesty. Tears were on the verge of spilling and she looked dead.              “No. I never was lucky, that’s why I was strategic. But this time… I am the target of a cruel joke. It’s fine. Everything is fine” she concluded, closing her eyes for several seconds, to recollect herself. She would just not think about it. He had nothing to say to that; he felt bad for her, for the first time since he had been introduced to her, he truly felt bad.            Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was minutes or hours, until Sam joined them. Silence was her go-to place; however, her mind hadn’t shut up about anything. A million scenarios had already been processed by her intuition and her logic. Why did Zemo want her? Why was he sending her Bucky’s personal stuff from before? Why hadn’t he delivered? Who was she?                Before Sam could open his mouth, she had already planned their next few moves. She had to be organized and plan everything out; even when things didn’t go as planned, she had already explored that possibility and that was why she never ran out of plans.              “I’ll call him. Make him believe that I will deliver you to him. Set up a meeting. We’ll stage everything. Even if he doesn’t believe me, we’ll sent proof. He’ll bite. After all, he is still looking for revenge. And what better way to start your evil plot, than taking down two of the people who put you in a cell?” she mapped out their strategic positions. She had a very scary mind, they thought. It felt that it came to her as easy as breathing. But then again, who were they to judge?                   “Good morning to you too” Sam mocked her but in reality, he was pretty convinced by her plan. She didn’t even listen to him and neither did Bucky. They had been having this little dance of letting go and pulling back. Their limits were testing each other. Could he trust her not to actually deliver them to him? He would never admit it but he was afraid of what it might happen if those god-damn words were spoken again. In theory, he was no longer affected by them – but what if? As if she had read his thoughts, she slowly nodded, leaving Sam even more confused.                          “We’ll use that too. Lead him on, just to get him where we want” she assured him but he still was reluctant. How was it possible that she had already planned that too?                  “What if they work?” he voiced his fear out loud for the first time in a very long time and Sam quickly caught on, but didn’t interfere. He wanted to see the dynamics between them.            “I won’t let him” she said with a fierce tone he hadn’t heard before. It was a combination of Steve’s certainty during a pep talk and the aggressiveness of Tony when he thought he was right. Maybe, he could trust her. Sam saw through his inhibitions and understood that he wanted to trust her more than he had let on. With a smirk on his face, he tapped on Bucky’s shoulder to make his presence known again, because it felt as if they had no idea, he was standing there all this time.                    “Okay, we’re going with that plan” he admitted and reassured both of them. He was not entirely sure about her intentions as well, but the look she was giving to Bucky told him a lot more than what he needed to know. She looked at him like she didn’t expect him to trust her that much and she felt grateful because for once in her life she was being taken into account before being sent out like a monster.                      “I will get us an untraceable number and we can begin. It might take some time though” he continued. Well, that was better than nothing, she thought. As he was walking away, he did mention something that could potentially turn out worse than she would have expected.            “Three things. I am out for my run. We are going shopping later on. Until we get to Zemo, you train” he counted before she could protest about a single thing, he was already out of the house. She left Bucky on the couch as she walked upstairs, not bothering to look twice. He had no words to describe how shitty his day was and it hadn’t even ended yet.    

TAGS: @imlivingliferightnow​​  @tonystankschild​​  @badasseddy​

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Blind Hope: Chapter 7

Title: Blind Hope Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 1,232 Pairing: Nick Jakoby x Reader Chapter Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst, Plot, affectionate frustration Disclaimer I do not own Nick Jakoby, he is the intellectual property of Netflix Originals, I make no money from this fanfiction. Dedication: @14readwritedraw96 and @thezucchini​ (For being so wonderfully enthusiastic) TW/CW Descriptions of pain, long term hospital stay

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 <~ You are Here

You are standing in the middle of the pasta isle at the grocery store when your cell phone goes off. It's that distinctive ping of an unknown number texting you. You sigh, roll your eyes, and wonder what is the easiest possible thing that you can make for dinner that night. In the past six days your workload has tripled. June and Em are on a much needed vacation and Nick is still unconscious at the hospital.

You know that because you called right before you left to go grocery shopping. You also called first thing this morning, and last night, and the morning before, and the night before that. You have called the hospital at least twice a day for the past thirty-seven days. You got the exact same information.

“Officer Jakoby is still in an induced coma, and he is not ready to be seen by friends or family.”

It was maddening.

Your phone goes off again and you set a jar of premade sauce back on the shelf. Your stomach isn't feeling red sauce. It isn't feeling pasta. Or oranges. Or any one of a thousand other things you were totally down for eating. You hadn't been hungry since the night part of LA went up in magical flames. Since Nick had been hospitalized.

With a sigh you eased into the snack isle. Is a bag of chips an acceptable replacement for dinner? Probably not, but you've had take out for the past two weeks and absolutely none of it has filled the steady, continuing ache in your heart.

Your phone goes off again.

“What?” you snarl loud enough to make the old lady with a basket full of frozen dinners blink with bewilderment. “Sorry. Not you.”

You pull your phone out and waive it at her. She doesn't look convinced, and doubles her speed to get into the next isle.

With a few swipes you bring up your new messages.

“This is Jessica, the Head Nurse at the Intensive Care Unit at the UCLA Medical Center.” The first message reads.

Your heard pounds so hard in your chest that your vision goes a little hazy. You grip your phone tightly enough to make the screen rainbow with protest.

“Nick Jakoby has achieved a state of continuing consciousness. One of my nurses made the mistake of telling him that you had stopped by.”

That hazy feeling turns to ash. You had wanted to see him yourself, to let him know what had gone on, and why you hadn't talked to him in six, not seven, months.  He must be angry, furious.

The third message is brief, and comes across as a little mad. “In order to keep him in bed, I promised him you would come see him tonight. Do not make me a liar.”

You desert your cart, and take the shortest possible trip to the hospital that you have ever taken. Which is impressive, considering all the times you driven up there in the past month, just in case something had happened between your morning and evening check-ins.

You don't stop at the front desk, you know where you are going. The elevator doors close as you turn the corner, and the wait for the next ones seems like an eternity. The moment the doors whoosh open, you surge inside hitting the buttons for the ICU floor. You don't even wait. You ht the close-door button and watch your reflection stare back at you as the lift starts to rise.

What are you going to say? Should you have gotten balloons? Flowers? A stuffed animal? Would he even be allowed those things? Did he want them from you? Did he want to see you to make up or to have a final talk? In the twenty-eight seconds that it takes to get to your floor, your mind plays out you greatest hopes and worst fears in a strange, overlapping loop that leaves you feeling a little lightheaded.

Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that you haven't eaten well in a month.

Your clothes don't fit right, you think as you tug at the fabric. You should have gone home to change. You were wearing your comfy clothes to go shopping. The fabric weird. Then you realize its not the fabric, its your own skin. You are so nervous that your skin feels like an electric current is running through it. With a huff you roll your shoulders, trying to settle your nerves. It doesn't help.

The doors slide open and as fast as you got into the elevator, you hesitate to get out. This could go wrong. What if his mother is there? His partner? What about Johnassen, the jerk who broke his phone so long ago?

It doesn't matter you tell yourself as you take that first step off the elevator. All that matters is he's awake. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes.

A stern looking woman with stark gray curls looks up from a desk as you approach. She tilts her head and inspects you.

“For Jakoby?” she asks like she already knows the answer. “Follow me.”

Your heart is in your ears as you follow in the steps of her worn out shoes. She swipes her badge, taking you through a set of secure double doors. The sounds of the hospital change. The ICU is bereft of human noises, but it isn't quiet. You can hear televisions on a half a dozen channels turned down low, doing what they could to preoccupy patients who were in layers of pain. The sound of breathing machines hiss and whirl. A man in green scrubs wheels supplies down the hall. There's no happy, warm chatter. Just a strange sense of desolation and pain.

You do not like it here, and you can't imagine Nick here. Nick, with his warm laugh and kindness. Nick who kisses you like the universe exists in your lips. You want to scoop him up and take him away.

The nurse stops outside of a door at the end of the hall.

“They are quarantined behind a see through partition,” she tells you in the kind of no-nonsense voice that must come from years in her work. “Do not attempt to breech this partition.”

She holds out a long medical gown. Confused, you shoved your arms into the sleeves. She spins you, and starts to tie it up, and then she puts another one on your back, spinning you again so she can tie it in the front. She hands you a cap, and a mask, and you put them both on as she helps your feet into medical grade booties.

“How dangerous is it?” You ask as she holds up a pair of gloves to slip on your hands.

“Unknown,” she tucks the end of the gloves over the wristband of the double set of gowns. “But you saw the news, you know where they were. Better safe than sorry.”

She types a number into the key pad. “You get ten minutes. No more, no less. I'm not being mean, but we need to minimize any chance of exposure.”

You nod your understanding. Ten minutes isn't much time, but you'll make the most of it.

“There are armed men in there,” she finally says. “Don't do anything to make them think you are a threat.”

It's the last bit of advice she gives you before the pad turns green and the door is opened.

The room is long, white, and empty save for what looks like a box made out of hanging plastic. Only a few of the lights are on, casting half the room in evening darkness. There are several beds, but only one of them is occupied. The long, lean body of a black male is visible beneath the harsh lighting. Three other people stand guard, dressed from head to toe, AR-15 clutched in their hands. The door closes behind you.

For a moment you stand there, frozen and unsure. A little, ugly thought makes you wonder if this is some weird trick. Then you hear your name.

Your eyes are drown to the shape of a man sitting in a chair. You hadn't noticed him at first because the dark lines of his body blend a little too easily with the pseudo darkness on that side of the room. But now that you've seen him, you can't pull your gaze away.

Nick. You'd know the shape of him anywhere. The broad, strong line of his shoulders stands guardian against the pitch black behind him. There's a blanket across his legs, and an IV in his arm.

“It's you,” he says softly, disbelieving.

“Nick.” You take one step, and then another, and before you know it your legs are carrying you across the room. You almost forget the plastic. When you foot hits it, you're startled. The guards watch you with cold glares. “Sorry.”

And once you start saying it, you can't stop. Over and over again you apologize. You don't realize you are crying until you taste the hot salt of your own tears. You are sorry you didn't call him. You are sorry you left. You are sorry you didn't answer him back. You are sorry for everything you ever did in the last six months because none of those things was going to him. You sink to your knees at the edge of the partition, the tears making it impossible to speak.

He says your name again, so soft you wonder if you dreamed it. You look up, and he's shaking his head.

“Please, don't cry.”

Slowly, unsteadily, he gets up. He doesn't look at you as he pulls the chair from one side of the plastic sheet box to the other. Right in front of you, he plops the chair down, and then lowers himself into it. His staccato motions belie how hurt he must still be.

The pair of you are silent as you look one another over. You see the bruises beneath his woad blue spots; purple and yellow and, in some places, black. You see the stitches in his arm, the thick swelling of his hands. The skin around his cheeks is slack with the lack of food he's gotten in the past month. But his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that are yellow and red and orange all at once, they are filled with pain that has nothing to do with being thrown half a football field by a magical explosion.

“You're here,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought-” He stop short, shrugging, and then wincing.

“I know,” you tell him. While you aren't sure of the exact words he must have thought, you know that it couldn't have been good.

“Why?” he asks.

You open your mouth to tell him, but the words wont come. You remember Elizabeth, his mother, and the way she had looked at you. You could tell him everything, but what good would that do? He might get angry at his mother, it might cause some kind of rift between them and how many people did Nick really have who cared that much for his safety? Not nearly enough, you think as you take in injuries you hadn't noticed before.

Instead you shrug. You can't bring yourself to lie, but you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth either, no matter how much it's burned inside of you. You turn the words that she said over in your mind, pulling an answer from them without revealing their source.

“You got hurt because you were with me.” Your voice cracks as you say it.

His eyes close and his shoulders sag. His body leans forward. You think he's about to slide out of the chair. The pair of you kneel on the floor, staring at one another. Emotions that you don't think have ever been named whirl through you. You want to touch him, you want to hold him, you want to vanish together into the night.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. You were just the excuse. When they saw me-” he cuts off, coughs, and shakes. “They'd already decided what they were going to do.”

He looks away. You can tell that there's more to say, that he's struggling. Rather than push you give him a moment. He deserves that at the very least.

“It wont happen again,” he says.

“Why not?”

He opens his palm, I can't see anything there, but he must because he's staring down at it like it's something special.

“I can't talk about a lot that happened that night,” he says. “I want to, I want to tell you everything but...I can't.”

You shake your head. “I just need to know you are safe.”

“I think I am. I mean-I gotta tell you, it was not a normal night. I was...I was blooded.”

Your eyes go wide. You can't help but stare at his lips. He smirks.

“It'll take a while for the tusks to grow. But I don't need to file them anymore.”

You sit back on your heels. “Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you. It's a long look, a scared and hopeful one. It's like he's weighing a thousand dreams as he watches you and all you can do is wait.

“I thought I was getting over you,” he finally says. “It'd been months. Long months. Really, really long months. My mom even set me up on a couple dates with some unblooded girls from other states.”

Your stomach twists.

“Yeah?” you say, hoping that he's not about to tell you that he has moved on and this whole thing was about him saying goodbye.

“They were nice, but they...they didn't understand me. They didn't like what I do. They didn't like my jokes and they all thought Alaska is stupid.” The two of you laugh and it feels so good. He shifts his position until the two of you are nearly the same height. “I wasn't falling for someone else but I was pretending really hard like I was getting over you.”

You nod, you know what he means. You'd been going through all the motions, acting like you were moving forward when all you were doing was playing the role and hoping.

“I was going to come see you,” he said. “As soon as my shift was over that night. I was going to go right to your apartment. Everyone said I shouldn't because I'd just get hurt, but I thought that it would be worth it. I just..”

Slowly he reached into the blanket still twisted around his legs. His thick, injured fingers shook with pain as he pushed the fabric around.

“Where-hold on-it's here, I swear.”

Your heart, which has already gone through far too much, pounds all over again. Your mouth goes dry.

“Nick...”

“I almost died you know,” he says as he lifts a corner, continues to look. There's a little wetness on his brow, and you wonder if it's fear, nerves, or pain that's put it there. “And not just once. I almost died like four times.”

One of the guards cleared their throats.

“I know,” Nick said, holding up his free hand. “I know. I can't tell her anything. But you only have to look at me to see that it happened.” He went still, and bowed his head. “I did die.”

It's not even a whisper, there's no sound. It's a breath of words that you are sure the guards couldn't hear. You pounding heart turns to ice in your chest.

“What?”

But he doesn't say it again. Instead he looks up at you and his eyes are bright with a hundred emotions. “And all I could think about, was you.”

He holds out his hand. Nested there is a black velvet box. Carefully, he opens it, revealing a ring. It's made of two metals, platinum and rose gold, twisted around one another to form a very simple braid, and right there at the center is a stone in the exact same shade of blue as his spots.

“All  I thought about every day has been you,” he is saying when your ears start to work again. “And I don't want to ever have to worry again.”

You swallow twice before you can speak. “Are you proposing?”

You aren't sure if he's blushing, but his ears twitch. “Only if you're saying yes.”

“You have to ask,” you say. “You have to...ask.”

“Is it a spell? A human thing?” he says.

You shrug, because it kind of is, but mostly you just need to time to stop your thoughts from making such a commotion in your head. There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, a thousand even, but even so-

He says your name and you find that he's shifted yet again, down on one knee in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

[chucklegigglechortlesnort]

MY B O Y S :( Yaku get your ass back here. I miss you. I love nekoma too much. could I request manager for Seijoh?

YESSSSSSS IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THESE WAY TOO MUCH CAN YOU TELL???

Seijoh Manager Headcanons:

Alright so by SOME miracale you manage to sneak your way into being Seijohs manager, which the whole team is pretty surprised by.

Save for maybe Oikawa - who got you the position - or Iwaizumi.

I say this because there’s literally NO WAY, with Oikawas reputation, that they let just some random person be manager for the sake of making goo goo eyes at him all through out practice.

They made this mistake during his first year and it didn’t take long for them to learn their lesson.

So the only way you’re manager is if you’ve known Oikawa your whole life and therefore are aware of how annoying he is, or if you’re related to him. Let’s go with the former. Because I love the childhood friends cliche that’s my SHIT.

So if you’ve known Oikawa since childhood, you’ve definitely known Iwaizumi since childhood. Therefore, the coaches let you on the team not only because Oikawa knew you, but Iwaizumi put in a good word for you as well.

Doesn’t matter if you have other hobbies or interests in clubs, Oikawa is dragging you into this whether you like it or not.

You’re already familiar with the third years upon taking up the manager position, so they’re not too intimidating. Matsukawa didn’t really talk to you much at first but you both bonded over poking fun at Oikawa and a mutual love of memes.

You have a photo of oikawa sneezing where he looks absolutely atrocious that you “accidentally” sent into the group chat once. Makki and Mattsun use it religiously as a reaction image. Oikawa hates it.

You don’t talk to your fellow first years too muc, except for Watari, who’s pretty friendly. Kunimi doesn’t seem to interested in conversation and Kindaichi visibly tenses up whenever you try to talk to him, so you figured you’d have the coming years to bond with them.

Oh, and did I mention? You get invited to all the Seijoh sleepovers.

Since you’ve been friends with Oikawa your whole life, sleep overs weren’t a new thing for you. His whole family knows and adores you and you have your own seperate room at the Oikawas so your parents aren’t worried about you sleeping in a room full of teenage boys.

These sleepovers are absolute chaos

Every sleepover cliche you can name? You’ve done it. Pillow fights? Check. Often ends in bruises and ice packs. Nerf Gun wars? Iwaizumi always wins. Mario Kart? Makki plays dirty. Monopoly? Who will land on board walk this time? Trick question the answer is Mattsun. Wii sports? That’s your shit. Oikawa never wins at anything. He hates it. But he does build the best pillow forts, courtesy of all his practice with Takeru.

You’ve definitely heard every one of these boys rip ass. Even Oikawa. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. If you think for one second that they’re gonna hold it in because you’re around you’ve got another thing coming hon. Once you’re all in a private setting together all bets are off.

Jealous fan girls definitely bombard you with questions of what it’s like to be around “Oikawa-senpai” all the time, and say how lucky you are to get to be around him every day. Oh the things you could tell them, you could ruin this whole man’s career. Some even come up to you for advice on how to ask him out?? And that’s never something you know how to answer.

Kyotani’s strange respect for Iwaizumi is one of the most baffling things you’ve ever seen. You’ve tried to figure it out but honestly you don’t think you ever will. He’s an enigma and avoids you at all costs. prolly bc you’re a girl and he’s intimidated by you lmao

He still respects you tho. More than he does oikawa at least HA

By the middle of the year Kunimi and Kindaichi are progressively warming up to you and you now have a first years group chat and sit together at lunch at least twice a week. Kunimi seems to gravitate to you more than Kindaichi but you don’t push it.

You are team mom. Oikawa jokingly got you and Iwaizumi matching mom and dad sweatshirts that say “Team Mom” and “Team Dad” on them. Iwaizumi refuses to wear his but you’re more willing to play along and will wear it when you go out with the team for ramen after games.

Iwaizumi wore it to one of the sleepovers once and you forced him to take a live picture with the both of you showing off the sweatshirts.

It’s now your lock screen background and he grumbles every time he sees it.

He seceretly loves it. Good luck getting him to admit it tho.

Oikawa has a pic of you asleep on iwa-chan’s shoulder with the sweaters on and he thinks it’s one of the most adorable things in the world. The best part is, Iwaizumi wouldn’t stop him because he was too worried about waking you up, so he just sat there and let it happen. What a sweetheart. Oikawa thinks himself a master comedian.

One upside to being seijohs manager is that fuck boys stay the hell away from you. They just automatically assume you’re dating Oikawa which is bothersome to an extent, but if it keeps the thots away you have no reason to complain. Even those that don’t think that are usually too intimidated to approach you because your friend group is essentially the seijoh volley ball team.

However a downside is that you never really know who’s befriending you for the sake of trying to get closer to oikawa which is a bit of a bummer. You’ve grown pretty skeptical of your peers and sadly your friends outside the volleyball team are far and few between.

That’s okay tho because they fill up a huge hole in your heart and you couldn’t ask for a better, or more entertaining group of people to surround yourself with.

It was a huge hit when they didn’t make it to championships though and it was even worse watching the the third years leave never having achieved their goal.

You knew you’d always have oikawa, he was basically family to you and by default you’d always have Iwaizumi. But Mattsun and Makki were going on different paths, and despite knowing them for only a year they had effectively made their way into your heart.

Oikawa is the most dramatic about it though, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and refusing to let go of you despite all your protests.

There’s one last goodbye sleepover for the whole team, Iwaizumi even wears his dad sweatshirt one last time for the occasion. There’s mario kart and wii sports, monopoly and nerf wars, and no one is able to sleep that night, not even Kyotani.

It’s a bittersweet goodbye and you didn’t expect to be this emotionally moved by the end of the year.

You keep in constant contact with oikawa and iwaizumi following their graduation (which you attended) and make sure to spend lots of time with them as well as mattsun and makki whenever they return for breaks. There are still sleepovers with the five of you, but the rest of the team as well as the new set of first years are less inclined to participate now that oikawa isn’t the captain anymore.

Oikawa still visits the team every once and a while to pester Yahaba about his role as captain, making sure he was doing a good job filling his shoes. He’ll even participate in practices and teach whoever’s the new setter how to cater to their spikers. It’s pretty wholesome to witness. Makes you miss the old days.

Ngl I don’t know how i’m feeling about these, but I can’t think too much about it or I’ll chicken out on posting :/

~tre

[summoner-kentauris]

What does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir? (You can either just answer or write a lil story if you feel like it)

OOOO now i have thought in my free time a fair amount about what líf thinks of zasha but, and i cannot believe this, i have not thought about what zacharias thinks about líf and thrasir. full disclosure, book III happened to be going on when i formally stopped playing feh. i kept up with the story after that but, theres my obligatory knowledge base disclaimer.

also minor cws through this whole thing because i talk here and there about zacharias and his... mm, canonical relationship to death/selfharm

-

so, i spent a lot of time thinking about this one, and i keep coming back to my gut reaction, which is that i don't think zacharias would like them very much. i dont know why i think that, though.

PART ONE

i think a lot of it would depend on how they approach him, which is maybe why i've spent more time thinking about the reverse of this ask, come to think of it. see, i think zacharias could go any which way in terms of what he thinks of them. i think he could hate them, as two people who killed versions of everyone he ever loved, including metaphorically killing off the two people closest to him.

i think he could love him, having seen the hell (ha ha literally) that they went through. understanding what that feels like. given the way he talks about his suicide attempts, and honestly that he spent most of book I trying to get people to kill him, really his whole relationship to death. i mean the man talks a lot about death and killing. he might not be the feh OC who best understands how manipulative and... whats a good word. alluring? what im trying to say is that besides eir, he might be the one most likely to understand why Hel and hel's offer appealed to líf and thrasir. i feel like this bit has a place here: "With his dying breath...he begged for his life. He called out your names! "I'll do anything you ask! Just let me live!" excepting of course that i still am not sure if i think he said/thought that or not. ive never been sure who really is in control of speaking right then and there. Anyway. Probably he could come to understand Líf and Thrasir's stance, enough that he could care about them the same ways he cares about his versions of Alfonse ann Veronica

on the other hand, i can see him being fully horrified by the choices those two made in response. this bit: Not anyone... This dark god...seeks death. And it cries for the destruction of Askr. Like. Líf and Thrasir are intentionally enacting the same thing as the dark god's desires, in order to correct a mistake they made that, uh, also enacted the same thing as dark god's desires. talk about awkward. and i think Zasha, who has lived with this nightmare in his head for so long, might recoil from people who are so directly aligned with it. who wants to be around someone who has become, who has chosen to become, everything you ever feared you'd be? especially when you're nearly drowning from the effort of fighting to stop yourself.

i could also see him meeting them and it being incredibly, incredibly bad for him. i feel like, he puts a whole lot of... mm. what am i trying to say.here:

Yet it is you that says this, dear friend, and so I must consider it. I see the faith reflected in your eyes. Perhaps it is possible...

SPEAKING OF BUNNY ZACHARIAS I ALSO THINK YOU COULD TAKE THE FOLLOWING:

You never change. All you see is a lofty goal, even if you lack the means to achieve it... The idea that gods would fall by the hand of man is a fantasy... and a preposterous one. This is a goal that even our ancestors Líf and Thrasir could not achieve.

setting aside the obligatory wtf zash i know you know your lore (fuck, maybe there is no killing the gods, maybe all Fire Emblem victories are temporary at best and Zenith is the only one who knows it. but i think, probably not), i think you could spin a very believable scenario where zacharias takes one look at these two ambitious, arrogant posers and absolutely refuses to speak to them any further.

so, part one, i think that zacharias could think any number of things about líf and thrasir. which i suppose means that i think he's fairly neutral on the subject of líf and thrasir. makes sense to me, i suppose. i feel like zacharias | bruno has practice (regardless of whether he's any good at it or not, or whether its any good for him) at holding and maintaining separate personas, so I don't think the fact that líf and thrasir were alfonse and veronica would necessarily be all that important to him.

which brings me to part ii

what happened to dead zenith zacharias

if zacharias is neutral on the subject, I think a lot of their relationship is going to pushed in one direction or another by líf and thrasir themselves.

and, complicating matters (when do I make things simple?), i think their approach to zacharias would of course depend on what happened to their zacharias. correct me if im wrong, but i dont think we have even a hint what happened to him.

there are three ish options I'm seeing. one: as dead world zenith is further along in its timeline and as zacharias claims he's almost out of time with his curse, other zacharias died due to that before the war with hel. i feel like scenario one is the most likely to lead to a good relationship between main zacharias and líf and thrasir.

two: mr. professional "knows plot relevant things out of knowhere" was the one who found out about angrboða's heart in the first place. especially given "As destruction took hold, we joined with Embla to seek the forbidden heart...", which to me sounds a lot like, "hel was kicking our ass then zacharias showed up and said we should go get this mystical plot object from embla". thrasir even says she and líf weren't allies before the world went to shit. anyway. hear me out here:

Yes. The heart is sealed within an Emblian blood temple. If that seal is broken, someone will die each time the heart beats... Those who perform the rite are the first to die.

Now. Líf claims he was the one who broke it open, but he also was present for the war that followed and only after was he killed and inducted into hel's army. so. both of those things can't be true. i propose that the magic mcguffin located in a sealed emblian blood temple was unlocked by our dear zacharias and thats what killed him in other zenith. i think its possible that other veronica was the one who did it, but you know. its all imagination at this point. also, and i forgot this, but thrasir does go off about how she can't lose until she saves her brother, so. something especially tragic happened at least. and oh boy is scenario two a nice fresh tasty tragedy. so that's scenario two. other zacharias directly died as a result of attempts to fight hel

number three thing that could have happened to zach is boring. he's always off doing things, he could have just died off screen. i mean. everyone did, eventually.

frankly he could still be alive for all i know. the heart appears to take the lives of people in the world, not of the world, or else the summoner would have been fine. so, if zacharias was on one of his off world jaunts, he could conceivably be a-okay. well. as okay as someone who's whole world died. i don't think that's what happened, because thrasir is pretty clear about feeling that she failed him, but yknow.

líf and thrasir's reactions to the above

thrasir is i think the most straightforward. i can't really see her approaching main zacharias with anything but positive intent. even if she's only a little bit open, i think thrasir and zacharias will probably have a decently tolerable relationship. if zacharias can come back to a country that exiled him as a kid and let his mother die in a dungeon and then go on to not just befriend but protect and care for a half sister he didnt know before then, then i think he'll find a way to care about thrasir. you know, intsys could have had fun making another perpetual older brother character. as i understand it, xander gets brother'd a lot, he and zach could have talked. could have been fun. a whole, zacharias, a historically traumatized child: *arrives in a world* every currently traumatized kid in a five mile radius: oh shit this one's ours now. you know what im saying? found family except zacharias would very much like it to stop finding him. he's got important brooding to do. but anway, they didn't go that route and its a tragedy.

líf is... more complicated. i think scenario one creates the most positive outlook. i can see him still having guilt over zacharias' loss, but i think any of it would be overshadowed by everything else that happened. in this scenario, líf finally gets back a piece of the world he'd lost. yeah, it's not his zacharias, but still. it is a zacharias, who is living and breathing and frowning and asking why you are staring at me, knight. i think the two of them could get along rather well, although i see them having significant issues with pessimism. inch-restingly enough... the dark curse bades its hosts to kill askrans. and líf is, well. dead. so... perhaps... perhaps líf wouldn't trigger the curse like alfonse does. in that case, not only does líf get someone back he thought he'd never see again, but so does zacharias.

scenario two is just a nightmare. frankly, i initially thought this scenario would lead to líf just ignoring zacharias (out of guilt, pain, etc), but i was rereading the scripts looking for the spelling of angrboða and this came up:

Tell Hel. She'll erase those memories. She'll erase them all...

so, honestly? i think that in scenario two líf just straight up gets hel to remove his memories of zacharias (as an aside maybe this is also why he never ever ever talks about other anna >:{ )

in that case, líf wouldn't really have any reason to talk to this man, who causes this empty deeply sad feeling to well up in him for now discernible reason. and zacharias has no reason (or time) to talk to this standoffish general of the dead. so. that's a real ships in the night moment.

number three i think líf would still hold the same guilt as in number two, but i don't think it would be as horrifically tragic, so i think it's more likely he'd be willing to approach zacharias. he does appear to have even worse of a thing than alfonse about not opening oneself up to people, but i think that even if he's líf, he once was an alfonse, and being that this is me answering this, i don't think any alfonse can really keep away from a zacharias for very long. its a version of the person who once knew him as well as any other person in the world. like líf can't really seem to stop himself from associating with main sharena, i don't think he could stop himself from reaching out in his own way to main zacharias. and god does that man need some more friends. i think zacharias would probably be a little frightened of líf, and of what an alfonse could become. but i think probably... i feel like a lot of book i issues stem from the fact that, justified or not, zacharias thinks alfonse would risk anything, any harm to save him. i don't know that confronting an alfonse who literally risked everything and did all harm to save his world would be a comfort, but i do think zacharias would get a lot out of having someone who's already done the worst they can do. been there, done that, got the tshirt. i think zacharias would be a little afraid of what an alfonse could become, but i think he would no longer have to be afraid of... no, anxious about it. i think there's a kind of calm in having something confirmed that zacharias could appreciate. healthy? unhealthy? fuck if i know. i also think that in líf, zacharias has a friend who he can't physically hurt anymore. lífs already dead. been there done there got the.... glowing gel torso. i think, curse nonewithstanding, zacharias will always have some degree of tension and fear about hurting people he's in a relationship with, be that because of his issues with abandonment, of abandoning, of harm, etc. but you know. líf's kind of a rock. and he's already hit his rock bottom, now that i'm thinking about rocks. i think that kind of steady, placid deathness could really help zacharias. and i think he would find it soothing, whether or not he knew why.

plus he will be able to know that if the curse gets him, if he dies... he'll still have a friend in the realm of the dead. he doesnt have to be so afraid of leaving and getting left

so there we go! lots of musings. i have been thinkin about why my headcanons are less that and more elaborate branching theories, and i think it is because i would change my opinion depending on which story i wanted to tell or hear or see.so yeah. dunno which one of these answers belongs to the question, what does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir?, but hopefully at least one of them is interesting to read about!

OH also. i think he would be petty-ly annoyed about them cribing líf and thrasir's name. like full on scholar petty. probably showed up to the order in a nerdy huff excited to meet the actual factual líf and thrasir and turns out its just those two, sitting around glowing and reciting death metal lyrics like they're spoken word ballads. dont think he'd get over that ever.

[krysalla-archive]

can you talk more about your Jonathan Crane wip 😳👉👈

yes i can!

i really want to incorporate gothic and horror tropes in this fic because i feel like it fits so well with gotham rogues. gotham is the perfect setting for a gothic feel for fics and i really just want to do something different because i feel like ive been writing the same thing over and over again on this blog.

psychological horror is what i really want to focus on in terms of horror because as much as i love some gore i don’t want to rely on using gore as a way to horrify

i want to keep mostly to the comics because i really truly hate the nolanverse batman movies. i think they are incredibly boring and do such a great disservice to batman characters (esp. talia and selina because nolan hates women) but also. cillian murphy... so in just about every respect the only thing i’m keeping from the nolanverse is simply describing jonathans likeness with cillian murphy in mind. and maybe i like the idea of exploring corruption and the problems of psychiatry

i’m still working out a lot of details in this wip, i have a lot of broad ideas and i want to have a concrete idea of whether or not the reader has connections to other batman characters--whether in the batfam or with other rogues--and i want to figure out the endgame of the story because i do have two very different endings in my mind for it.

simply, i want this fic to have lots of gothic romance, and gothic tropes in general and i want to explore the idea of transformation and rebirth, the monstrous feminine because i think that at the heart of the monstrous feminine, there is always a catalyst for her creation. i am really about to sidestep because i just wrote a paper that examined the monstrous feminine for a film class but. the monstrous feminine in most appearances is victimized before becoming a monster (i.e carrie being taunted by her classmates and abused by her mother, jennifer check being ritualistically killed for the gain of male character, dawn from teeth being sexually abused by her boyfriend, a doctor, and a friend she thought she could trust) and i really LOVE unhinged women but i also hate that what precipitates that unhinging and detaching from reality is really glossed over

other ideas i want to explore: perfectionism, the unsettling, how love can be damaging, confusion over what is real and what isn’t

inspirations for this fic are definitely will and hannibal’s relationship in hannibal, into a swan by siouxsie (in fact the working title for this fic is a lyric from that song), sharp objects, black swan (in the case of trying to achieve perfection), it comes at night, the yellow wallpaper

i still have a long list of books to read that i’m hoping will help me round out this fic. and i’ve started a playlist and pinterest board if anyone is interested teehee

[veeranger]

Thoughts on Halo Reach's plot and best to worst noble team members?

you know ive actually been a lot more critical towards reach lately because i think it fails on the biggest thing it advertised: noble team. characters have never really been the strong suit of bungie’s writing (idk who destiny is so dont @ me) and while this isnt usually a major issue, it is an issue when a game wants to sell you on this squad of your teammates it wants you to care about or at least be fond of. ODST and Reach both have a cast of characters that could be really interesting but since halo is a shooter and not really a storytelling kinda game series all they really get are a few lines here and there and some cool moments, nothing really solid or anything to get a glimpse at who they are. maybe thats kinda the point though since spartans are all fucked up broken people like inherently. i dont think thats why bungie did that though

as for reach’s actual plot, i think it works well for what it is, a playable tragedy that tells you the conclusion up front. halo fans who are any level above completely casual knew that reach got completely glassed right before the start of halo ce and the advertising of this was very clear. the fact that you’ve never heard of spartan 3′s or noble team before was a pretty clear indicator of what their fates would be before you even turned on your xbox. the game literally opens with your smashed helmet embedded in the ground as a tombstone to your inevitable heroic sacrifice. reach invokes the same kind of feeling as star wars rogue one, you just know things wont end well for our main characters but you know that their deaths will pave the way for the main series protagonist to eventually win the whole damn thing 3 games/movies from now. 

so even with this in mind you go through reach and you think “wow things are going pretty well, we’re holding out own against the covies and even striking back at key targets” and maybe you forget whats going to happen or you dont and you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. and boy fucking howdy does it drop. jorge dies thinking he just saved reach and as you fall through the atmosphere you realize how hopelessly fucked you are. thats where the game enters its second phase, the “we’re fucked but still fighting” phase, as opposed to the first half of the game where things were still somewhat hopeful. noble six wakes up like a week later to half the planet burning and civilians being slaughtered as they try to evac. the first level of the second half of the game features you busting your ass hard to clear an evac point for civilians only to see them all get shot down and die. its brutal stuff, especially for halo who had never shown the conflict though that lense. 

what follows is a parade of squadmate deaths as your numbers dwindle with every level until its just you and emile, and then just you. unlike in rogue one you actually aren’t immediately told what the key item in this quest is, in this case its cortana, the equivalent to the death star plans in rogue one, the most important thing in the universe since cortana will be the one to slipspace jump to halo 04 and kick off a series of events that will lead to the survival of humanity. but once you get this item suddenly it all makes sense, carter is told this is “what his spartans died for” and to you that means a lot more than it ever would to him. 

reach ends with a profoundly impactful epilogue level where you just. are doomed. you can’t hold out forever and even if you could there’s no rescue coming for you. noble six gave their life to save the universe and never even knew it. the fact that their death isnt a cutscene but you actually yourself have to try to stave off death or just take as many elites with you as you can before they get you, it really adds so much to the impact of the final noble team death. nevermind that six isnt a real character it does work in this case because you’re seeing it from a first person perspective.

so overall my thoughts on reach is that despite the major flaw of not making you care enough about noble team (unless you do, this is my personal view) it does its job very well in portraying the desperate struggle of humanity against a threat that they cannot possibly comprehend or rightfully stand up against, but despite devastating loss the small victories they achieved still ended up mattering in the end. 

now as for noble team i wont do a best to worst but ill give my thoughts on everyone

carter: hardass commander type, not much to say imo. his death scene was his best moment and i wish his relationship with kat had been fleshed out more because it was so so funny to see her pull his strings to get what she wants. you can tell he has the respect of everyone, especially emile. 

kat: the only girl! i actually like cat, im glad they gave her a buzzcut instead of trying to make her sexy or anything even if they did give her that ass in her armor. shes the typical smartass better than you genius character but it works, especially with that accent. i wish i could be friends with her, there was that scene right before she died where she confided in six that this was also her first glassing. her death was kind of shock value to me and i wish she could have at least died with a little more dignity like the rest of noble team but alas :(

jun: probably my least favorite. i cant really remember much of this guy. he’s the only one who got to live and i kind of hate him for that because he was the least interesting of the bunch. 

emile: certainly the most iconic of all the noble spartans. he comes off as sadistic but not a maniac, he listens to carter when he speaks and is on good terms with kat even through his obvious inability to really connect to other people. this is certainly because of the fact that he’s a spartan-3, he’s probably the most “inhuman” of the bunch. i wish his relationship with jorge was given a little more, i liked how despite his pushing jorge early in the game he still mourned his death, and yet refused to carry his dogtags because he knew six was the one who was entrusted with them. his death was very iconic i think everyone remembers that. 

jorge: the big man himself, his death is what set the tone for the second half of the game and was probably pretty impactful to most people playing. i always thought it was interesting that he was a spartan-2 and not a 3 like the rest of noble, i wonder why that was. his relationship with halsey was interesting and it showed that not all spartans hated the devil woman for what she did to them. his defining characteristic was his big heart and that was especially interesting for a spartan-2, that he managed to hold onto something like that through all the shit he probably went through. 

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 12/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Tommy Merlyn, Athena, Joanna de la Vega, Roy Harper Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Athena was accustomed to deferring to those less skilled or worthy than her. The current Heir to the Demon was only one such example and was, in part, why she was here.

Simply put, the League was stagnating before her very eyes. She couldn’t say when it had begun. Perhaps shortly after she had joined the League when the schism between Ra’s and his eldest daughter had occurred. Or perhaps not until much later, when a girl had laughed in his face at a display of his power and he had not relieved her shoulders of her head but instead allowed her room, board, training and even his Heir’s body for her own pleasure.

Athena believed in her heart, however, that Ra’s decline had begun between those two points, with the departure of Al Sa-Her.

Never had she met a warrior so single-minded in his goal, yet all the more deadly for it. The lost man who had stumbled upon their secrets molded himself into a weapon and leader, rising through the ranks with greater speed than any before him.

But Ra’s had let his Horseman go, and had never truly recovered the loss. His leniency towards Nyssa’s dalliance with the disloyal girl in their ranks, his over-reliance on the Pit keeping him confined to Nanda Parbat more and more. Despite all appearances, he was an old man dragging them all to the end with him.

Athena had had no plans to strike against him, not until she had overheard the news on a mission to the Americas about the man the rest of the world called Malcolm Merlyn.

That such a man should fall to a poorly carried out stunt such as the news described was unconscionable to her. She could only assume he had been forced to act in a manner to protect his son, the man who now stood before her. The man she needed in order to achieve the plan that had begun forming in her head.

“Athena,” Thomas Merlyn echoed. “Is that your real name?”

“It is the only name I answer to. And before you check, you will not find me in any sort of search you might conduct on your devices.”

He grimaced but carried on. “How did my father meet someone like you?”

“His oaths would have kept him from sharing too many details of his time away, but we were part of the same League once. I served first as one of his trainers, then as a comrade-in-arms when he surpassed even me.”

“Comrade… in arms,” he repeated once again. She hoped he wasn’t truly this dim. “So you’re saying my father left me after my mom died to go train in some secret Fight Club?”

“He was preparing himself to enact justice upon the ones who took her from this world. From the intelligence I have gathered, he was very near his goal before the Triad’s contracted assassin mortally wounded him.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his father’s current state. “You said you can heal him. How? You don’t exactly look like a nurse.”

Athena withdrew a vial from her pocket. A vial she had taken great care in filling with a priceless elixir. “The contents of this vial will revive him. Slowly, I am afraid, but I could not secure more and remain undetected. You will need to introduce it into his system. I recommend the IVs replacing his fluids.”

Thomas’ eyes reflected a hunger as he reached out, but his arm paused midway. “How do I know you’re not lying? That this isn’t just more poison?”

Well, he wasn’t a naive idiot, at the least. “I am risking everything by changing my allegiance to your father and his kin. Should the man we both trained under discover my actions, I will be forcibly returned and executed for my disloyalty.” Thomas blanched, but she paid no heed. “Nevertheless, I believe in the cause Al Sa-Her was working towards. The evil of Starling City is too great, and must be eliminated. Surely you see that your city is slowly choking on the waste that wells up from the bottom?”

The look in his eyes hardened, and he took the vial. “How long will this take?”

“It is unclear. But in the meantime, you must lead in your father’s stead. There are others he would have recruited to his cause. We must find them out and see just where their loyalties now lie in his extended absence.”

“Wait, are you trying to say you can find out who set up the hit?”

“Of course I can.” She knew he had little reason to trust her abilities as of yet, but he would learn. And if he learned each piece in just the right order, she felt certain she could craft The Magician an Heir more loyal than Ra’s could dream of, if less adept with a weapon. But that, too, could be taught.

Athena retrieved a phone from her pocket that she slid across the desk towards him. “My number is the only contact programmed in. Attend to your father, then call me when you are ready to take up his work.”

While his gaze remained distracted by the phone, Athena slipped away as quickly and quietly as she had come, disturbing no one. Her next steps were already clear in her mind; discover the source of the contract on The Magician’s life, determine the timeline of his recovery and the completion of his plans and deliver his son to him as a dedicated disciple. All of this she was confident she could achieve.

Thomas Merlyn was less skilled and worthy than she, yes. But he held that same cold determination, that drive of his father’s. And history showed that could be molded.

---

Joanna sighed as she settled back in behind her old desk. It was earlier than her mom might have liked, but she was officially back to work.

She stared across at the empty space where her friend’s things used to be. No more Sara in her graduation cap, no more white board of targets. Laurel was well and truly gone from CNRI.

Well, not totally gone. Her protege approached Joanna scarcely after she’d sat down.

“Hey, Thea.”

“Hey. I’m so glad you’re back.” The younger girl hugged her. “How are you?”

“You know, pulling through. I guess you have experience with that.”

Thea nodded. “Yeah, well just don’t do what I did and you should be fine.”

Joanna laughed. “Alright, what have we got today? Think I read something about a deposition being filed?”

“Mm-hm.” In her work clothes and with a folder in her hand, Thea Queen looked truly different from the party girl she’d been only a few months ago. “It’s against Edward Rasmus. He stole the family’s savings, and they’re looking for restitution to help them get back on track. They lost everything in their son’s college fund because of this piece of crap.”

Okay, maybe Thea wasn’t totally different.

“Well, hopefully we can get it all back. Let me see the file so I have the details before they come in today.”

She was able to read up on the Moore’s file as well as a couple others before the family arrived. The couple had even brought their young son with them, who was adorable as he was shy. Joanna talked them through the deposition process and promised to have it submitted before the day was out.

It was the last time she spoke to either of the parents.

Joanna woke up early to a call from the police informing her that her clients had been killed in a home invasion gone wrong. Taylor had miraculously managed to escape the carnage out a window, so now she found herself playing social worker instead of lawyer as they tried to figure out where he would go in the immediate aftermath.

Eventually, they decided on a temporary placement with social services until his grandparents could return to the States. It still broke Joanna’s heart a little to watch Taylor being led away by the hand, and she resolved to check in on him at least once a day until all of this was over. Though she’d need to be careful about how to do it; she didn’t want a repeat attack. The timing of that ‘home invasion’ was a little too convenient for her liking.

She was glad to get a text from Laurel that day asking if she wanted to meet up. It really had been forever since her friend had bothered to reach out and that stung, but Joanna wasn’t going to turn her away when she actually did try.

It was still strange seeing her with shorter hair, Joanna reflected as she grabbed the barstool next to Laurel’s at the old place they’d gone to once or twice after work in the old days. “Hey.”

“Hey. My dad called and said you’d been at the station,” Laurel admitted. “I thought you could use a drink. I’m buying.”

“No, you shouldn’t—”

“I’m okay,” her friend insisted. “I’m just really sorry to hear what happened to your clients.”

Joanna blew out a breath. “So am I.” The whole thing stunk of the crap Thea had mentioned yesterday, but of course that was only a feeling she had. And she wasn’t about to bring that up with Laurel when her asking her to get the Hood’s help on Danny’s murder was what had led to her friend’s fall from grace to begin with.

Yet apparently she didn’t have to. “It was Rasmus,” Laurel said with conviction as their glasses were set down.

She nodded even as she said, “There’s no proof. And now there’s no case. I mean, the kid’s only six.”

“Where’s their son now?”

Joanna looked down. “Social services took him.”

Laurel turned on the barstool to face her. “He’s in the system? After just losing his parents?”

“It’s only for a little while. They’re having trouble getting in touch with his grandparents because they’re out of the country.”

“But the killer Rasmus hired is still out there, Jo,” Laurel argued. “He could get the information on where Taylor is.”

“I’m hoping he was only interested in stopping Mr. and Mrs. Moore. I mean, what else could I do, Laurel?” Joanna asked. “I’m still staying with my mom, and I couldn’t bring Taylor in there and put her at risk like that after everything. I talked to your dad specifically and had him put two squad cars outside.”

Laurel looked down. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to do what’s best for everybody, I just…”

“I’m worried, too. I’m going to make regular check-ins over the phone in case someone’s got their eyes on me, too.”

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility,” her friend agreed. They both sipped at their drinks for a while, neither in the mood for idle chitchat. So much for catching up.

Joanna left her things with Laurel while she went to the bathroom before they headed out. As she approached the bar, she noticed Laurel was hunched over her phone, though she straightened up as soon as Joanna got close.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Listen, we should do this some other time when work isn’t so depressing, you know?” Joanna said.

Laurel nodded. “Definitely. Maybe next week or so? I’ve got some busy nights coming up.”

“How late is that shop open?”

“I’ve picked up a couple things. Just helps to keep myself occupied.” She went in for a hug, and Joanna couldn’t help noticing how solid Laurel felt. Not that her friend had ever been all that fragile before, but there was something different to her stance, to the security she seemed to give off just through a hug. Joanna gave her head a shake as she backed off.

“Everything okay?” Laurel asked.

“Yeah. Guess I’m just thinking about how so much has changed… you’re taking care of yourself, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you.”

Joanna went home and ate dinner with her mother before they both kicked back to watch some TV. Nothing was really catching their interest, so her mother started channel-surfing. A picture on the screen caught her eye, and Joanna sat straight up.

“Go back, go back!”

“What, to the news?” Her mother hit a couple buttons and Green, the nightly anchor, came back on.

“—Rasmus allegedly confessed to police after they responded to reports of the Hood being spotted at the businessman’s penthouse. The hired gunman who killed Eric and Nancy Moore remains at large, and police advise all in the Glades neighborhood to exercise caution.”

“That’s the case you were working on?” Her mother asked. When Joanna nodded, her mom said, “Well, I hope you didn’t call him. Bad enough he got Laurel in trouble, I don’t need him sidling up to you.”

“It wasn’t me, mom,” Joanna assured her. But she was pretty sure she knew who it was, and she had to shake her head again. Laurel was never one to sit idle, was she?

With Rasmus in custody, Joanna decided to head to an early bed. No benefactor meant no additional hit, no additional hit meant no hitman.

Taylor would have to be safe now, right?

---

Mr. Blank had a job to finish. It hardly mattered that the target was a little boy. He had seen his face. That meant he couldn’t remain alive. It was nothing personal.

He’d already taken care of his former employer through posing as the man’s lawyer to gain access. Only one loose thread left, and he would be free to continue his business unhindered.

It had been a simple matter to get the information on young Taylor Moore’s current housing situation. He had simply called in pretending to be a representative of the boy’s grandparents seeking to confirm the child’s location for pickup. Sneaking a peek at the casefile number for Taylor had been another goal of his at the police precinct, and it aided his ruse.

A group home in the Glades was the boy’s temporary residence, and it would now be his final one. Mr. Blank parked his car on the next street over from the building, then walked along the sidewalk sure to keep his back to any and all CCTV cameras. There weren’t many in this neighborhood. Even better, he had overheard at the station that two officers that had been stationed outside had been recalled only last night thanks to Rasmus’ capture. That left him free and clear to take care of matters.

As he drew up to the steps of the building, he noticed a young woman sitting with her back against the wall of the home, head bent and blonde locks hanging in her face. A potential witness. How irritating.

Mr. Blank sighed and reached for the gun in his trench coat pocket. In the same instance, she stood up in one fluid motion and looked him right in the eye, revealing her own face was hidden partially behind a mask. Interesting.

“Somehow I had a feeling someone like you would show up.”

“I assure you, there’s no one else like me,” he told her. “But I would have expected the Hood after his intervention with Rasmus.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Her fists were balled and she had no weapons. This would be easy.

Yet as he retrieved his gun, she lunged, one hand closing around his wrist and twisting hard. Mr. Blank hissed and pulled back, the gun clattering to the ground. She kicked it further to the side and moved in closer. So it was to be a brawl.

He feinted to her left and was just barely blocked by her arm when he tried to strike her right. He grabbed her arm and yanked it to force her forward, ramming a knee into her gut.

She wheezed but barreled forward to take him with her, crashing him into the wall outside the home. Mr. Blank tasted blood when he bit down. He just barely got his guard up when she went for a punch to his face. He twisted her arm behind her back and relished the cry that left her as he closed in, the fingers of his other hand reaching for her mask.

“You’ve seen my face. Don’t you think it’s only fair I see yours?”

Her head jerked back, colliding with his chin. His grip reflexively loosened, and she spun out of his hold.

What she lacked in finesse, she made up for in sheer enthusiasm. This was a brawler, and she lived for the fight just as much as he did. He thrilled at the blood pounding in his ears, the pain in his jaw.

They both eyed the gun lying a few feet away. He dove for it. She dove for him.

Mr. Blank’s fingers grappled for purchase on the weapon as her weight fell upon him. He turned and was met with two hands forcing his arm away, just as he squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

---

He was walking home from another shift at the club when he heard a noise not altogether uncommon in the Glades: a person’s pained and heavy breathing. In the past, he might have kept on walking. But ever since his life had been saved by the Hood, he’d been trying to find some reason for it to have happened. Some reason he’d been worth it.

So Roy cautiously approached the alley he could hear the sound coming from. In the dark, all he could make out was the disheveled blonde hair of a woman leaning against the wall as she slowly staggered forward. Her head was down. She had to be focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey. Hey, lady,” he said, coming forward. She hissed and drew back, but as she did her hair sort of shifted, revealing it to be a wig. And he thought he recognized the real hair underneath, short as it now was.

“Laurel?”

“Roy?”

He shook his head. “You’re the Woman. Should have known it was you.” She’d roughed him up well enough just for stealing Thea’s purse.

“Well, I’d congratulate you on your detective work, but this one was kind of handed to you,” she said, strain in her voice. She was limping pretty bad, too.

“Hey, what happened to you?”

“Got shot. Just a graze, but it hurts more than you’d think.”

“Don’t have to guess,” he said. Roy came around to stand at her side and pulled her arm over his shoulder. “Here, give me the wig.” He stuffed that in the pocket of his hoodie. Hopefully, they didn’t come across any cop cars or someone who looked at them too closely. “How far do we have to go?”

“Just a couple more blocks.”

They traveled it mostly in silence, not wanting to draw more attention to themselves than necessary. She had a place about the same size as his, though he thought her street had a slightly better reputation. Everything was relative.

“You got any disinfectant?”

“Cabinet above the bathroom sink.” She hobbled over to a little basket that turned out to hold sewing supplies. Well, at least she knew what was going to have to happen.

Roy returned from the bathroom to find her with one leg out of her leggings. He kept his gaze on the floor.

“You ever do this before?”

It took a beat where he thought she was nodding before she realized she needed to answer verbally. “Yeah. On my arm.”

“Okay. This’ll probably hurt a little more.”

She hissed when the disinfectant made contact with her skin and flinched badly at the first poke of the sewing needle. Not that he could totally judge her for that kind of aversion.

“You said a little.”

“My bad.”

Once he had finished closing up the wound, she grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch to throw over her lap which brought him some comfort. Roy sat back, watching her. “So when did this start?”

She shrugged. “A month or so back, officially. But it’s been coming.”

He thought he knew what she meant by that. The slow simmering of anger waiting to boil over into outrage at just how much everything here sucked. How unfair it was, how impossible it was for most people to escape.

“And the guy that shot you?”

Her head bowed for a moment. “He shot himself, in a way. I was trying to get the gun off him. It grazed me, but…”

She didn’t have to finish. 

Roy shrugged. “Then he got what he deserved.”

“What he deserved was to be tried for his crimes,” Laurel maintained, though her shoulders slumped and she lost the haughty look. “But I can’t say I’m devastated he’s gone. It’ll keep Taylor safe, at least.”

“Who’s Taylor?”

“A kid. His parents were trying to sue a man called Rasmus for losing their savings, and he hired a hitman to take care of the problem. The hitman killed the Moores a couple of nights ago, then came back to try and finish the job.”

Roy’s fists clenched at the thought. What kind of sick person targeted a little boy for something he wasn’t really even a part of? “How’d you hear about all this? I mean, was it the Hood or…?”

She shook her head. “The Hood has his own operation going on. I’m just doing my part where I can.”

“But you know him, right?” Roy couldn’t quite keep the eagerness out of his voice. “Or you know how to get in touch. I’ve been looking for him since he saved my life.”

Laurel said nothing, only studied him.

“Do you know if, I don’t know, I could help him somehow? I know how to fight.”

“The Hood’s mission is a personal one. I’m not sure that he’d be willing to risk someone else getting hurt,” Laurel said, smirking as she added, “There’s a reason I’m on my own.”

Roy looked down. So she thought it would be a no.

“He has a team.”

The unexpected words caused Roy’s head to jerk up sharply.

“I could see if he’s in need of anyone else to provide support. That’s the best I can promise you.”

It was better than he’d had. “I could help you fight out there.”

Laurel considered him. “You have a lot of good instincts, but they’re not honed. It’s going to take some training for you to be able to do more damage to them than they do to you.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s a we’ll see. Find yourself a way to train first. I’d recommend a guy except I think he’d kill me for sending another vigilante to his doorstep,” she remarked with enough lightness in her tone to make him think she was probably joking. “But for now, you shouldn’t be out there looking for trouble.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, mom.”

Laurel shook her head. “I am not old enough or financially and materially stable enough to be a mother.”

“Yeah, neither were my parents,” said Roy. He thought he caught her smirking at that in spite of herself. “I guess I should let you sleep the pain off.”

“That would help. I’ve got work tomorrow.” She stood with a low groan, wrapping the blanket around her waist like a skirt. “That’s not gonna be a fun walk.”

“You ever think about getting a bike?” He asked. “It’d get you around faster at night. Be easier to avoid the cops.”

She frowned. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“I know a guy who sells them cheap. They don’t have all the parts, but we could fix them up probably. Or I could.” He shrugged. “Support stuff, right?”

When he chanced a glance up, Laurel was smiling at him. “That’s not a bad idea. Tell me when we can see your guy.”

Roy felt his hope reignite, and he nodded. “Yeah, could probably get us in by the end of the week. But, uh, I guess you need my number.” He grabbed a pen off her counter and scribbled it on a to-go menu. Laurel grabbed it up with her free hand, nodding to herself.

“Okay. I’ll message you so you have mine, and I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

“Daytime would be best. I’ve got this new job. A real one, at the Verdant.”

For some reason, she smirked at that. “Good for you. You should stick around there.”

“Okay.” Roy backed up towards the door. “I’ll see you. Uh, what do you go by?”

“Laurel?” She said skeptically.

He snorted. “I meant like your vigilante persona. Everybody’s got different names floating out there. The Woman, Lady in Black, Angel, stuff like that.”

“And some less flattering monikers, I’m sure.” Laurel looked off into some kind of middle distance. “I don’t know. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Maybe you should.” He shrugged one shoulder and headed out the door. Once it shut behind him, he couldn’t resist pumping his fist.

He was in with the vigilantes. Well, one of them at least. And he’d make sure Laurel felt he was indispensable so that she’d have to agree he made the cut. And then someday, she might even introduce him to the Hood, and he could repay the man who had saved his life and shown him this new path.

He was finally going to make a difference.

[whence-the-woody]

Finale commentary under the cut

So I wanted to kind of liveblog as I was watching but held back so these are my remembered reactions/second watch reactions

Bummed there was no song recap but quickly figured itd play at the end

PUPPY. Best part of the ep, lbr, Dean was so cute with him

Theyre really doing a cheesey life montage huh - still not clear whether monsters are a thing in this new world?

I was watching the mins tick by during this first montage like OKAY we get it, cheesey happy home life, move along. There was only 40 mins left of the whole show like get on with it, it went way too long 

We definately needed to restablished that Sam is neat while Dean is messy. Totally necessary to spend time on that. Also didnt Dean get houseproud when they moved into the bunker?? What happened to that?

OMG get on with it

Then becomes apparent that hunting is still a thing. Which if so what was the point of showing then doing fucking laundry and dishes while “Ordinary life” plays - if its not just an ordinary life?

At this point i thought it might go the route of them being listless without hunting as a job but then murder scene so I guess not

This whole pie sequence is stupid and a waste of time, we all know it

Dean being a cold, heartless bitch about everyone being dead. Aces. Not unexpected but still just great. How dare you be so happy about pie fuck you dude. 

DOES ANYONE REMEMBER EILEEN

Pie is the face is not funny my dudes come the fuck on

I started skipping through during the murder scene. I was bored. Like, I dont care about tension building to the murder of a family we dont fucking know. Ive always skipped these scenes, what is the damn point. Its not scary or interesting. 

GET ON WITH IT

Same old FBI bullshit. Nice to see the journal again I guess. But like, this is STILL what we’re doing? In the very last ep? Same old, different day, just like 15 years ago. Really?

Singer and Kripke. Subtle. 

I skipped through the interrogation too. I dont find the scary brother act cool or entertaining 

15 mins in and nothing has happened

Theyre trying so hard to give Dean jokes and nothing is landing, its so cringe just stop

The way the little clown faces pop up - if that supposed to be scary? Really? Its all just so silly rn

Watching it again I realise just how easy this hunt is. The answer is in the journal. They find the exact family. They find the exact barn. The kids are just stood in a cupboard. This is what takes Dean out, really? Its not even a normal hunt, its a way too fucking easy one. 

I do not remember this chick or what ep she was in, maybe theres some parallell or foreshadowing by bringing her back but if there is I dont get it

Bottom line if youre gonna bring people back WHY THE FUCK THIS RANDOM GIRL

I knew so fast he was gonna go out like that. Hanging from a fucking nail

I kept saying out loud not like this, no way, this is so stupid, its so stupid omg

I paused and tried to talk myself into putting aside how stupid and awkward it was for him to be doing this scene hanging off a pole and just try to invest in the emotion of the speech. Which I achieved at times

but why was is so awkward tho?? Just the way hes stood pressed against it is fucking weird. Also 1000% Sam couldve gotten help and he wouldve been FINE. It took so long for them to talk, an ambulance couldve been there before they were done, there was no need for this

Okay the speech did make me cry once I pep talked myself into being invested. The reference to being scared Sam would reject him, the I love you so much, Sam saying dont leave me, the stay with me and tell me its okay - all those moments got me and I did cry. I appreciated the family business line. I liked Jensen telling Jared he always keeps fighting, that was a nice reference. 

BUT there were also those moments that made me scoff, roll my eyes or laugh. The whole “always you and me” bullshit especially. The second I knew he was going to say I’ll be in your heart I yelled at them to no do it, I hate that cheesey move, then literally was like “oh my god, he did it”. It WAS NOT always going to end like this - so much of the last 15 years was proving him wrong about that. This is all just so wrong, it is not good. 

Jensen and Jared did a good job with what they were given in this scene but my god

The audacity of the Cas erasure- always you and me. FUCK YOU. 

I laughed out loud when his last shot was a One Perfect Tear. I was literally like “Oh wow they did that”

DEAN DESERVED A BETTER DEATH

It also kinda loses all impact when you see him like 2 mins later

MIRACLE IS THE REAL MVP ILY

Theyre really doing another montage. Really. Like we get it, hes sad, we didnt need the toast to understand that

Omg Miracle by his side. The best of bois. 

Looking around his room like beer and guns was all dean was. Sure. Aces. 

I choose to believe Bon Jovi was a ref to before Dean went to hell

If Donna is back why isnt anyone else?!?

Oh Jared you look so old bby. Go home. He looks older there then later in the ridiculous make up

Why is that shot made to look like hes leaving the bunker forever?? Like that makes no sense

Bobby greeting him is nice and all BUT IT SHOULDVE BEEN CAS

Also they are 1000% doing the show don’t tell by having Bobby just sit and explain everything. SO FUCKING LAZY

Cas has been out of the empty, helping rebuild heaven. Okay, fine. Even Dean’s reaction to hearing that was fine. BUT YOU ASK WHERE YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND IS AND GO SEE HIM. WHO IS THIS VERSION OF DEAN WTF

I know people are upset Cas is back working in heaven but I dont think its anything like before. It sounds like he helped fixed things then got his own heaven. Also he’s God’s Dad, hes not serving God, hes teaching him. I know human Cas done right is what we wanted but I dont hate this for him. BUT WE SHOULD HAVE FUCKING SEEN IT. 

Why is a memory of being a kid with his Dad what Dean is reminiscing on. They have literally reverted him back to s1. There are so many memories dean should be thinking about in fucking heaven

Hes going for a drive

Hes going for a motherfucking drive

In the car he was just in

WHY THE FUCK IS HE ACTING LIKE HE HASNT SEEN BABY IN YEARS WHAT IS THIS SHIT

Hes going to drive around doing nothing until Sam gets there are you fucking kidding me. Not going to see any of his family from the last 15 years, just driving. Absolute horseshit. 

This is the moment where you realise that this episode has changed NOTHING. This is the same ending as the last ep except theyre in heaven not on earth

ITS THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING

Okay so they skip over how Sam went from going on a hunt to walking with a toddler. OMG how unsubtle that they have literally just labelled the child Dean in big yellow letters. I couldnt help but laugh, how fucking stupid. 

I did get a bit teary when the music started I’ll be honest. But mostly through the whole montage (ANOTHER ONE) I was saying to myself This is so fucking stupid. omg this is dumb, what the fuck is this, so stupid.

They literally did a montage so long they had to play the song twice. Im just done at this point wow. 

The old man make up is so bad I just laughed. The only pictures being of the 4 of them, reinforcing the Winchester only bullshit, great. Not even pics of this new random family Sam’s got. The painfully cliche Dad moments for Sam, again so bad its funny. Omg the hand on the head of this random kid, this is so ridiculous. Old man sam in his bad wig trying so hard to move like hes old and crying in the impala. Wtf is happening, this is SO STUPID 

I thought theyd cast a more attractive son I’ll be honest. So he has the tattoo - are they a hunting family? Because that would go against both s1 Sam they’ve tried to go back to and the s15 Sam they build up to for all those years

I know they were going for an emotional parallel with that “you can go now” but this random man saying it to Sam in that make up, with the music cue lined up right there - its just funny coz its so dumb im sorry

I cant believe they actually played another different version, I’ll never get over that

Theres alot of things I’ll never get over

Is this bridge supposed to mean something? They shouldve picked a setting that meant something

I know theyre trying so hard to make Dean look happy and peaceful to convince us its a good ending but sis no

I laughed out loud when Dean turned around - WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT SAM?

Really, they have nothing to say? No questions, no convo? They just have cheesey smiles and look over the water? This is so wrapped up in a fucking bow trying to force us to feel good my god

The cut almost immediately to them talking to the camera, still in character getup, was so cringe I yelled and turned it off

And they pan out to literally none of the people we want to see . Great, Good. 

LITERALLY WHAT WAS THE POINT 

[kareofbears]

persona 5 royal: my thoughts after finishing it five minutes ago

disclaimer: the only reason im writing this is because 1) i have a lot of thoughts and feelings that i need to write down and if i dont ill explode and 2) i want to be able to find this when p5s eventually drops so i can compare my thought processes. if you do not agree with what i’m going to say, that’s cool! just block me or ignore this post. 

now for the sake of sanity, i’m going to try and narrow down this entire list into chunks because this’ll probably be very very long and very much about me just screaming about stuff that i liked, loved, and don’t like. i will be spoiling both the original persona 5 and persona 5 royal, obviously, so i hope you finished both!

1) Akechi

so yes. Goro Akechi. Everyone’s favorite murderer. I’m going to by spewing a lot of hot takes, and this is probably going to be the spiciest: i am in the most intense love-hate relationship with this brown haired antagonist because jesus christ is he a complicated son of a bitch. I know i’ve complained in the past about how much Atlus often struggles with utilizing a character well, but that does not at all relate to Akechi in any way, shape, or form. 

I’ll say this now: He is a character I genuinely, truly hate, yet he is the one I want to hear from the most. He is someone who is a bad person (yes, he is a bad person) but whenever he comes on screen he makes me sit up, he makes me pay attention to him because that’s just the aura he exudes. He is a character who i would never, ever waste my time defending or justifying his actions, but every minute joker spends with him is a minute i want to stretch out as long as possible because he is just that good of a character. He is interesting, he is well defined, he is smart, he is clever, he is sassy, he’s a motherfucking asshole who’s never had a vibe check in my life and i still hate him. Goro Akechi is what Star Wars wanted Kylo Ren to be, and that allegory may not make sense to many people but it works for me so i’m saying it. It’s to the point where writing akechi in a fanfic makes me sweat because in my opinon capturing the essence of akechi is near impossible unless you know what you are talking about (i do not mean that in anyway to discourage people from writing him, im just saying that I am a coward because i will never be able to write a good akechi). Anyway, bottom line is: i despise him but my eyes are always glued to him at all times.

back to the main point-- Atlus absolutely nailed this character and every single addition they put in for Akechi. I’m so damn thrilled that you actually have confidant hangouts with him because every single time you talk to him, it services not only the plot, but it perfectly does what it is supposed to do: it makes you like him, but also leaves the player slightly unnerved. they do it so casually that I might have trouble explaining it, but bear with me: everytime you hangout with him, he always does or say something that unhinges you just a little bit, it leaves you asking ‘wait why?’ or ‘but how did you know that’ or ‘why are you saying that?’. akechi is constantly playing mind games with you. and not only that, adding backstory to akechi (moreso than in the original) is just fucking fantastic. he’s always been a fully fleshed out character but after playing royal, goro akechi actually exists in my mind, and i still hate him (but also i dont. but also i do. anyway)

2) the ending

just finished the game and this is the point where i am at odds with p5r for the first time. the ending to p5, in my opinion, was flawless; everything was perfect and had meaning. from the shot of akira being shown to not wearing glasses anymore because he no longer feels the need to wear a mask (character development: he was very unhappy at the beginning of the game and now he’s happy with his friends--i love it), to his friends being the one to drive him home (amazing, he left his home town and came to shibuya alone via transit, and one year later he’s now leaving with all of his best friends in a van they rented just so they could stay with him as long as they can--it’s perfect, i love it), and also all of them seeing how large and infinite the ocean is (because now there’s unlimited options for them because they all have a new perspective on life). 

But....none of that is there in p5r. it feels impersonal. no one drops him off at his hometown, he was still wearing glasses, and there’s no grand metaphor about what they all achieved. 

Now, i am not a (complete) moron. I know why they had to change it: it’s because of persona 5 scramble (i think). they wanted to set up a plot for the next game and i feel like thats the reason why persona 5 royal’s ending suffered for it: they were too focused on the next plot that they forgot to focus on the sentimental ending for p5r. don’t get me wrong, seeing akechi in the train station absolutely made me lose my shit and made me scream at one in the morning, but i think they lost the core meaning in doing the other stuff. i did not like the focus on maruki and kasumi (will be talking about them later), cause i feel like it took away from the ending, and i also didn’t like the fact that the whole joker outfit in the reflection thing (but i will be letting it slide since it was during the after credits anyway). So while i do love one (1) new aspect of the final cut scene, i still adore and stan the one from persona 5. 

3) the entire last semester 

i’ll be quick: the final palace? the best palace. fight me. it’s fantastic, it’s innovative, it’s interesting, and most of all, the palace ruler is actually the best one in the entire game and i know i wont be the only one to say this. maruki is not a villain: i know for a godamn fact that im not the only one to say that i almost agreed with his deal of allowing the reality (damn i almost agreed twice) because why wouldnt you?? it’s literally a perfect reality! the only reason i didnt agree is because i knew the game wouldnt want me to agree and would force me to have the bad ending! anyway, i love the last section so much. the palace design is interesting, the antagonist is brilliant (who doesn’t love a morally gray antagonist?), and finally, the payoff of kasumi happened and it made me silent for ten minutes. the entire reveal of her being sumire and kasumi being dead is just so genuinely shocking to me that it nearly broke my neck.

what actually broke my neck was the initial incident for the third semester. seeing everyone in this wild alternate reality made me so unsettled that i literally got a stomach ache. i saw morgana as a human and nearly passed out. shiho in the underground? wig. ryuji saying he’s on the national pedastal for running? literally my eyebrows just popped off my head. fucking WAKABA? FLATLINED. brilliantly executed and i love the initial akechi and akira buddy cop movie vibes in the beginning it was just so fun. 

one huge part of the third semester for me though, was of course, akechi. seeing him completely throw away his ‘charming ace detective’ speil was the most refreshing and interesting and not to mention, hilarious part of the game. he does not give a fuck about anyone and he is not afraid to let you know. he is the biggest savage and the most insane person on the phantom thieves group. he’ll roast you, he’ll roast your boyfriend, he’ll roast fuckin anyone and it’s fantastic. not to mention his dialogue is killer: he says the most bat shit insults ever and my favorite example is when you go up to him near the end of the game, you know, to hangout with him and be a nice guy, he just does not hesitate to say ‘what, you came just to see me? just the sort of brainless sentimentality i’d expect from you.’ i LOVE IT because why the hell would he try to be nice? the jig is up, he’s got nothing to hide. and he owns it. atlus seriously nailed akechi in this last semester and it’s brilliant and i love it.

4) everything else 

- one small thing that pissed me off in both games (but especially this one) is how many godamn fake out deaths there are. Morgana has one, Akira has one, Ryuji has one, Sojiro has one, Maruki has one, motherfucking Akechi has two. it just hurts me!

- sumire is an amazing character who has depth and she is lovely and my biggest complaint is that it feels like atlus shoved her in. like, she feels like a new addition to the game, you know what  i mean? maybe its because ive played the original p5 first, but you know, it’s not a big deal. but i love her so much

- on the topic of sumire, i cant say that im completely super duper happy with how different she felt from the other thieves? im sure that’ll be explained in p5s but she just got so much screen time that it just truly made me confused?? maybe im just a horrible person, or that’s just a really hot take. but anyway, yeah maybe im bitter because i really wanted to see extra hangouts/school trips during royal, but didn’t really.

-baton pass? literally orgasmic. it made turn base battles so damn fun and the addition of darts and billiards made me foam at the mouth it was SO SMART AND INNOVATIVE AND I LOVE IT ATLUS I LOVE YOU ATLUS YOURE SO SMART SWEETIE

-small thing, but making spells like ‘dormina’ actually useful just made the game so much more fun and dungeon crawling became something i truly, genuinely looked forward to

-being able to give gifts to my bros? absolutely incredible. thank you. side note: seeing akechi happy from giving him a multi vitamin cracked me up. side side note: giving ryuji a fuck ton of weights and him just smiling made my heart so happy i love that boy so much

- ah this game just looked so GOOD! i thought the original looked good but they really went all out. im not kidding, the smallest details in everyday life or even just normal cut scenes were out of this world. especially stuff from the third semester its just OOF good JOB atlus i love you buddy

-ahhh thieves den! how can i forget? i love it. at first i was a bit iffy with it since it really felt like persona 5 (undoubtedly the biggest game atlus has created) was just jacking itself off. but as time goes on, it became a huge addition to the game and seeing characters’ insights and extra lines of dialogue became super duper interesting and a highlight of the game for me. and don’t even get me started on how much i love love love the photos they added of them hanging out! so lovely, a bunch of them made me tear up

- i know it’s literally impossible, but i feel like the game just forgot that akechi is a person who can wield multiple persona and i just wish that could’ve been messed around with during Palaces

- showtimes are so, so crazy and i get so embarassed whenever they play on my tv because they are just outlandish and unashamed but i love them so so much it just defines persona’s personality 

-because i love ryuji: i prefer the final conversation you have with him aka ‘whaddya mean? you’re there’ but there’s still a lot of really tender and sweet moments like akira genuinely telling him that he’ll miss him, and also the fact that ryuji wants you both to send each other your times through the exercise watch so you can still race ahhhh i love him so much yall

so, overall, this game is better than the original p5 because of the extra content we get. if persona 5 was the perfect dinner, persona 5 royal is that same dinner and you get to enter the dessert buffet. it’s brilliant, it’s smart, it’s hilarious, it’s heartwarming, and it’s undoubtedly my favorite game of all time without exaggeration. while i do prefer the final cut scene (and final dialogues with some characters) in the original persona 5, in the overall experience, persona 5 royal is superior in my mind. i would willingly get amnesia to play this game again. 

I didn’t get to cover everything, but this is definitely most of what i wanted to say. if you actually get to reading all the way to the end, thanks! it means a lot. i hope we can all enjoy persona and look forward to persona 5 scramble together :-)

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ What You Deserve (Doyoung Kim)

Genre: Dark, Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 3,421 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Kim Doyoung ☁

World: NCT ☁

WARNING: This fic contains self-harm, attempted suicide and talks about depression. Read at your own risk.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You’re not sure when it started, or how or why. It felt like it had been with you for most of your life. Maybe it started in high school where you spent every day being bullied and abused by your fellow students. At that time, your only bit of sanity was with your best friend, Johnny, but he had started to pull away from you.

Not on purpose, you knew. He had a dream that he was working hard towards achieving, but… in doing so, you began to fade away. Since you were children, Johnny had always been the anchor that kept you from floating away while also being the one that kept your head above water.

When he moved to Korea, you started to drown and didn’t know how to save yourself.

You had convinced yourself that everyone hated you and that you were only a burden to those around you. Johnny did his best to keep in touch as much as possible, which kept you going for a while. As bad as you never wanted it to end, you knew that it would.

Johnny had achieved his dream, debuting with a group called NCT 127 and they were quickly climbing the latter of popularity. He started to have less and less time for you until, finally, he stopped contacting you altogether. Four months passed without so much as a text saying, ‘hi’.

It had finally happened. Johnny realized that you were just a broken burden and decided to move on with his life. He forgot all about the needy, depressed little Y/N. That’s what you convinced yourself of.

You couldn’t take it anymore – the pain, the self-hate, the torment. It was all too much for you to face alone. With the weight of the world on your shoulders, you made up your mind.

You were going to kill yourself.

When Friday rolled around, your father left for his business trip, unaware of the plans his child had.

A bad storm had rolled in out of nowhere that night. Thunder shook the building as rain violently pounded the Earth. It was like the gods themselves were angry.

It comforted you in a weird way.

You lit a candle, setting it on the bathroom sink so you could see what you were doing. The power had been knocked out after a rather violent gust of wind knocked a palm tree into the power lines. This set everything into motion as the power line sparked, setting the palm tree on fire.

Unaware of the chaos outside, you slipped into the bathtub, your clothes getting heavy as they absorbed the water. Your eyes scanned your forearms, scanning the scars that littered your skin.

Even in the dull lighting, you could see each one perfectly. The old and the new, mingling together. Your finger traced them, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you remembered each one. Every single scar held a painful memory and you were cursed with remembering each one as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

Your hand shook as you picked up the razor blade.

This was it. All of your pain and suffering, all of the blood and suffering… it had all lead you to this moment. It was finally going to end. You were finally going to find peace.

So why were you hesitating? Why did you feel fear?

The metal rested against your wrist, making small cuts in your skin since you couldn’t steady your hand. ‘This is for the best’, you tried to convince yourself. ‘When I die, dad won’t have to work so hard to pay for my medical bills. He won’t stress himself over me. He can move on with his life and find the happiness he deserves. I… I have to do this!’

Lightning lit up the darkness as you screamed out, ripping the blade across your skin harder than you ever had before. Blood started to pour from the wound, dropping into the water and turning it an ugly faded red.

You slid down in the tub as the wound started to sting, your body shaking. Whether it was from your sobbing or from the pain, you didn’t know.

BANG BANG BANG.

Your ears faintly picked up the sound of pounding on the front door. Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway followed by the cries of children. It sounded hazy to you like you were dreaming.

“Open up, there’s a fire in the building!” The banging continued. “We’re coming in!”

You heard the door slam open and several pairs of feet rushed into the apartment.

Everything went black.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

A hoarse groan passed your lips as the insistent beeping disturbed your sleep. Eyes sliding open, you blinked a few times before it focused on the white ceiling above you. ‘Am I… dead?’, you wondered, forcing yourself to sit up.

The room was dark, lit up only by the lights of the heart monitor you were connected to. It was still raining, reduced to a soft pitter-patter against the window. The whiteboard on the wall bore the date, Tuesday.

It was clear that your attempt had failed. You eyed the thick bandage around your wrist. The only thing you could think about was the medical bills your father would have to pay.

‘I can’t even kill myself properly…’

The door creaked open and a woman you didn’t recognize entered the room. Your first instinct was that she was a nurse, but you soon realized that she was wearing a Victorian style dress.

Squinting through the darkness, you noticed something dripping from her hands. It was blood, splattering against the linoleum. All other sounds disappeared except for the dripping.

“Wh-Who are you?” You stuttered out, feeling your body tense. You knew something wasn’t right.

The woman started to laugh, low and vacant of humor. It gradually increased in volume until it filled the room.

You could feel terror taking over you as you scrambled back, your finger repeatedly smashing the nurse call button. The speaker behind the bed beeped as it normally would, but instead of getting a nurse you only heard the laughter coming through the static.

The woman moved closer, her bare feet slapping against the floor. “Selfish child,” she muttered.

You stumbled back off the bed, tripping over the various wires and tubes connected to your body. Hitting the floor hard, you winced as the IV was ripped from your arm. Within seconds, the woman was on top of you, her bloody hands wrapped tight around your throat.

Her eyes were wild and bloodshot. “Selfish child! Selfish child!” She kept repeating the same two words, voice growing louder with each repetition until she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “SELFISH CHILD!”

You couldn’t breathe, struggling to push her off but your hand went through her body like she wasn’t there.

Dots of black started to cloud your vision until you were completely cloaked in darkness.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You shot up in bed, feeling your body enveloped in a cold sweat. Your hand grabbed your throat as you gasped for breath. Warmth surrounded your body and soft words were spoken into your ear. You couldn’t understand what was being said, but they did their job and slowly you started to calm.

A hand gripped your own and you looked up, meeting eyes with your dad. Almost instantly, you looked away from him, unable to face the tears that clung to his cheeks. You looked to your left, where the warmth was coming from, and you felt your body tense up again.

“J-Johnny?”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he held them back with a smile, breathing out deeply as he spoke. “Hey… how are you feeling?” His voice was rough, a clear indication that he had been crying.

“Why are you here?” You hadn’t meant for it to sound so rude, but last time you checked, he was in a different country living the life he wanted.

“What a stupid question,” he laughed, ruffling your hair like he always used to do when you were upset. “I came to make sure you were alright.”

You moved your gaze to the white cotton covering your body. There were so many thoughts and emotions rushing through your body that you felt completely overwhelmed. Anger, pain, guilt, confusion… they swirled together in the pit of your stomach.

Johnny knew you were about to start crying, his eyes flicking to the heart monitor as the rate increased. “Are you hungry? The hospital food sucks, and we’re not technically allowed to bring outside food in for patients, but your nurse is a big fan of NCT so I can probably get her to ignore it. There’s a Taco Bell not too far from here, I know it’s your favorite!”

You could only nod, not trusting your voice.

“Stay here, Johnny. I’ll go and get it.” Your dad announced, giving you a soft peck on the cheek before leaving the room. He knew that he couldn’t comfort you, despite how bad he wanted to. That’s why he made the decision that he did. You knew he felt like a failure as a father and you felt overwhelmed by guilt.

Johnny shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “I brought one of the members with me. He’s really smart, reliable and loves white chocolate.” He paused, mentally slapping himself. Surely after attempting suicide, you didn’t care about conversing with someone about chocolate. “He’s right down the hall, I’ll go grab him.”

When he left the room, you lifted your eyes to the whiteboard. It sat in the exact same place as it had in your dream and the date scrawled on was the same – Tuesday.

‘What was that dream?’, you couldn’t help but wonder. Even the rain was the same, gently sliding down the glass. ‘I was trying to make life easier for everyone, but I’m a selfish child?’

Johnny re-entered the room with another boy. The thing that stuck out the most was his rich blue hair. “This is Doyoung, he’s one of our vocalists. Doyoung, this is Y/N, my best friend.”

You winced at the words. Could you even consider yourself still his friend after all this? Must less his best friend. Surely he had found someone more suitable to the title within his new group.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Doyoung spoke politely in accented English, bowing slightly in respect. He was uncomfortable, feeling like he was intruding on something extremely personal, but Johnny had requested that he come along for support, and that was a request that he couldn’t deny.

The rest of the day was spent with the three men trying to make you smile, at the very least, but you just weren’t in the mood. It was strange – you wanted to be left alone but… at the same time, you didn’t want to be alone.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You were stuck in the hospital for observation for the next week. Both Johnny and Doyoung stayed with you, allowing your dad to get some rest and go to work. On the day of your release, you and Doyoung waited near the front of the hospital while Johnny ran over to the parking garage to get his rental.

You still felt a bit uncomfortable being alone with him since you didn’t know him well, so your eyes were scanning the area to give you something to do. You happened to glance at a painting on the wall and you felt a cold chill run down your back.

Feeling you tense next to him, Doyoung looked at you with worry. “Are you okay?”

You slowly stood up, approaching the painting. It was her, the woman from your dream. Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow like she had died a long time ago. There a small tag on the bottom of the frame with a name etched into it.

“Matilda Palmer…”

“She looks terrifying,” Doyoung commented as he came up beside you.

“She was quite a nice woman, once upon a time.”

You both turned around, seeing an elderly man looking at the photo sadly. His eyes met yours and he frowned.

“She spoke to you, didn’t she?”

A shiver ran through your body and you moved closer to Doyoung, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of your head. It felt like the painting was burning a hole in your skull and you were too afraid to turn and check on it. Doyoung put his arm around your shoulder, looking at the man skeptically.

“Who… Who is she?” You questioned.

The man folded his hands behind his back, eyes sliding closed. “She haunts this hospital.”

“Haunts?” Doyoung’s grip tightened.

You glanced at him, patting his arm to try and calm him down despite the fact that you felt just as worried. “What happened to her?”

“She went insane after her child killed himself.”

Selfish child, selfish child, SELFISH CHILD!

You threw your hands over your ears as her voice echoed in your head. Having had enough, Doyoung excused himself and all but dragged you to the door of the hospital. Johnny pulled up just as you stepped outside and the pair of you hopped into the backseat.

He looked at you with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a weird man talking about the hospital being haunted…” Doyoung shivered. “Let’s just leave, okay?”

Johnny nodded and took off, tapping the steering wheel lightly. “Y/N? There’s something your dad and I didn’t tell you…”

“What would that be?” You questioned, rubbing your temples. You couldn’t stop thinking about that damned dream.

“We talked it over, and we both agreed that this is the best for you.” He paused, wondering what your reaction would be. “You’re coming back to Korea with us.”

“…Wait, what?!”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Although you were against the idea at first, you were glad that Johnny had forced you to come to Korea with him. It had been about four months since you moved into a small apartment with him and Doyoung. You expected to be left alone when he was working, but Johnny refused to let you be alone for more than a few minutes and forced you to come along with him. His managers were not happy about this, but it was something he refused to back down on. Doyoung and their leader, Taeyong, also backed him up since they both knew about your situation.

During this time, you had gotten increasingly close to Doyoung, who had made it his personal mission to look after you.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Doyoung questioned, smiling at you as he entered the apartment.

“Are you sure you won’t get into trouble?”

“Positive!” He gently grabbed your hand, tugging you towards the door. “I only had a photo shoot to do today, and I promised we’d go to the park.”

You sighed in defeat, allowing the male to pull you along. Worrying about ruining their careers constantly plagued your mind, but it didn’t seem to bother them. They always made sure to make time for you.

It was midday in Spring, the sun shining in a sea of fluffy white clouds. It was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He led you to a small patch of grass on the outer edge of the park where you both sat comfortably.

He was feeling nervous, despite having been alone with you many times in the past. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You were lying back on the grass, staring up at the clouds.

“Are you happy?” He lightly picked at the grass nervously. “Being here with us, with… me.”

“I’m not sure how to answer that. I feel… fortunate having you guys in my life, but I also feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt that way.”

He turned to lie down next to you, propping his head up in his hand. “Do you mind if I ask…”

“Why did I try to kill myself?” You finished, locking eyes with him. He nodded. “Truthfully, several reasons. I was tired, mostly, but I thought I was doing everyone a favor. I felt like such a burden to my father…”

Hearing those words broke his heart. His hand slid onto of your own, eyes never leaving yours. He wanted to convey his feelings, but he wasn’t sure how you felt and he didn’t want to make you feel burdened. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Sometimes. More than anything, I feel guilty.” You paused for a moment. “Do you remember that painting at the Hospital?”

“How could I forget? It was so creepy,” he shivered, “And what was with that guy?”

“He was right. I did see her.”

His brow furrowed.

“It was in a dream, but I saw her. She kept repeating ‘selfish child’. I didn’t know what it meant until that man explained what happened to her.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with his. “I looked her up online. She only appears to those that have attempted suicide. Her son was depressed and had been hospitalized many times throughout his life for trying to kill himself. Finally, he succeeded… his mother was a wreck and, eventually, she went insane and stabbed the nurse that was looking after her. She was locked away in a padded cell and passed away three days later.”

“I see… that’s a shame.”

“At first, I thought she was just a vengeful spirit, angry about what her son had done, but… she’s trying to stop others from making the same mistakes that her son had.”

“I think… when you kill yourself, you also kill those around you.” He whispered, moving closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. His hand held yours against his chest. “Depression makes you think that others are better off without you, but that’s not the case. I was there when Johnny got the call. It was like his world had shattered. He dropped the phone and fell to his knees in shock. We were about to go on a variety show but he broke down and had to stay backstage.”

You felt tears pricking your eyes as you whispered, “I thought he forgot about me…”

Doyoung shook his head, lifting it so he could smile at you. “Never. He was always telling us stories about things you both did when you were growing up. He felt so guilty when he stopped having time to talk to you, but we were all swamped with our schedules… Even having you here, he’s constantly worrying about you. I do, too…”

“Doyoung…”

“You said you don’t deserve to be happy… I believe everything happens for a reason. Your attempt lead you to me, and I’m determined to show you that you do deserve to be happy. You’re not a burden, you’re a beautiful human being who deserves the world.” He pulled his hand away to rest it on your cheek as he hovered above you. “There’s only one of you in this world, Y/N. And I… I love you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of deceit but there was none. You only found sincerity, warmth and, most importantly, love. Your heart was racing in your rib cage.

“You don’t have to feel the same… I wasn’t planning on confessing.” He laughed awkwardly. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I want to remain friends. I know things are probably awkward now but I just felt like I should – ”

“Doyoung,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

With a smile, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. For the first time in your life, you wanted to keep living. You finally found the will to fight against the darkness.

He pulled away and you smiled brightly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes again. He wiped away your tears.

“I… I want to live.”

The smile that overtook Doyoung’s face was as bright as the sun. His eyes watered as he threw his arms around you, holding your body tight to his own. Four simple words, but it was enough for both of you.

You were tired of being a victim, enslaved by the darkness of depression. You were tired of feeling like a burden and wanting to die. You wanted to fight, to overcome it and, for the first time in your life, you felt confident that you could.

With Doyoung by your side, you were free to start again.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[damian-dreamz8442]

5x’s Someone Used the Mom-Arm on Damian, +1 time He Did

A bit screwy when it comes to following the canonical timeline but you know what? I do what I want!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some angsty, mostly fluffy, just a bit of batfam fun starring my favorite baby bat! Might be a tad OOC but it’s my first go with all these lovelies and I haven’t gotten the hang of them yet. Give me tiiiiime. 

(Really hecking long. Did not mean for it to be so long. I am so, so sorry.)

i.

Jason worked alone. It wasn’t that he was broody and in denial like a certain someone - not mentioning names - he actually had a reason to work alone. He didn’t go on nightly patrols to keep up appearances. He didn’t drive around in a heated, leather interior, Jason mobile. He didn’t even have a butler who knew first aid. 

Jason’s missions were dangerous, and often times traumatizing. You can imagine why he would be on edge when a freaking ten-year-old with an attitude showed up on the rooftop of one of his stakeouts. 

“Absolutely not.” Jason hissed, grabbing Robin’s shoulder. Damian turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Tt, please. You have no say in the matter.”

“Like hell I ‘have no say in the matter’. You’re going home right now or, so help me, I’m tying you to that A/C unit. Don’t you have homework? Or normal ten-year-old activities to attend to?”

“This mundane drug-cartel stakeout is an activity fitting for me, my age having nothing to do with my abilities.”

Honestly, would it kill the kid to use some contractions? His full-word responses were giving Jason the impression he was a robot and not his “baby brother”. Speaking of family...

“Where’s Batman? Isn’t he supposed to be looking after you?” Not me? Damian looked away, and it sort-of almost broke the shriveled remainder of Jason’s heart. So Bruce was still a moron. Good to know. 

“Alright kid, stay close.” Jason tried not to notice the way Damian visibly brightened, and then did his best to by hyper-focused. He no longer was suspicious of Damian being a robot. He was just a kid. 

Suddenly, there was movement. There was movement in the warehouse owned by a notoriously dangerous drug-cartel that wasn’t supposed to be making any moves for a few more weeks. Of course they had to move up their schedule. Of course Damian had to fight with Bruce tonight and warrant Jason’s pity. Of course Jason was an idiot, as Damian was already off like a shot. 

Jason sprinted after him, using every curse he knew - he knew enough to keep rambling them until he was close enough to snatch Damian by the scruff of his neck. 

Setting the fighting ball of fury back on the ground, Jason assessed the situation - Dick would be so proud. “Alright, we have to go check it out, but be quiet.” Damian geared up to rush off again before Jason even finished his sentence. Without thinking, Jason’s arm lashed out, it would’ve clothes-lined the kid if they weren’t so close together. As it was it caught Damian in the chest and he let out a whoosh of air, both arms wrapping around Jason’s. He looked up at him, almost-glaring. 

“Quietly, and together.”

ii.

Dick did not like to admit it, but he’d never been the greatest driver. When he donned the cowl, worrying about learning to drive the batmobile hadn’t been his biggest concern. In fact, it wasn’t even on his list of concerns. It wasn’t even on his list of concerns for another time concerns. 

“I’ll drive.” Damian, the adorable little gremlin announced as they put on their costumes. Dick looked up, looked at Alfred’s incredulous expression, and then back at Robin. 

“Absolutely not.” It should’ve gone without saying that Damian was far too young to drive a car, not to mention the batmobile. It had missile launchers while most cars had seat warmers. 

“I can drive.” Was this a serious argument? Damian was making his way to the vehicle and Dick worried that if he didn’t say something soon the little boy would just hop into the driver’s seat. “No. No! Damian, I will be driving.” Dick rushed to put on his other boot, stumbling to catch up. 

Dick was wondering if maybe he should’ve let the kid drive. Damian could barely see over the steering wheel, but he’d probably be a better driver than Dick. 

The batmobile unintentionally drifted another corner, nearly going up onto the sidewalk. A white van of gun-toting penguin goons got further away. Dick was white-knuckling the steering wheel, Damian was seething silently. 

Dick could do this, he could. 

Suddenly, the van lurched to a stop at the edge of the harbor. Dick had been too focused on keeping the car on the road, he hadn’t noticed the asphalt change to wood. He slammed on the brakes, car skidding on damp wood. Why was everything in Gotham always damp? 

Dick’s arm shot out protectively, clamping across Damian’s chest. He knew he was wearing a seatbelt, but couldn’t help the need to make sure he was ok and not flying face-first through the wind screen. 

When the car finally stopped, the brothers shared a look. Damian shoved Grayson’s arm off him with a glare. 

“I think maybe I should drive.”

iii.

Cass looked up from her book only because the noise in the other room had reached a volume where it was impossible to focus on anything else. She didn’t bother hearing the words, just the voices. Ah, Tim had come home. And he was already fighting with everyone’s favorite gremlin, Damian. 

Bruce wasn’t home yet, Alfred was as busy as always, and Duke was probably still at school. Wait, it was a Tuesday. Duke had tutoring today - he’d gotten involved in a mentorship program with younger kids at his school. The other boys would not stop teasing him about following in Bruce’s footsteps, or how they wouldn’t be surprised if he brought home his own Robin. Cass was proud of him. 

That did not change that two of her other brothers were arguing at the top of their lungs and making it impossible for her to read, or reflect on her other family member’s achievements. 

She got up and approached the living room without making a sound, stopping in the doorway. Damian and Tim were yelling, Tim’s arms were in the air, Damian’s cheeks were turning a frustrated shade of pink. She was about to say something diffusing when she saw it. She knew the signs well, was trained to watch out for them. Trained to do them herself. 

Damian squared his posture, leaned on his dominant leg, and slid his left foot out no more than an inch. Tim was still in full swing. Cass shot forward faster than Damian could. She could not bear the thought of hurting her baby brother, but her arm shot out instinctively. 

Damian, who had been in mid-lunge for Tim, was caught square in the diaphragm by Cass’s unmoving appendage. He let out an oomph and fell back onto the carpet. Tim started in surprise, taking in Cass’s sudden appearance. 

“Wow, thanks Cass!” He said, but Cassandra had no use for words. She took in Tim’s casual body language and relieved expression. Then she looked at Damian. He was still on the floor, it had already been five seconds - his average stand-up time. His whole body was tense, controlled, not coiled. He was looking at the floor, his face was still red. 

Oh. Oh no. 

Cassandra’s stance fell and she crouched in front of Damian. He eyes were welling with tears. Maybe she should’ve listened to what Tim said in that argument. 

Tim noticed Cass crouching, staring. “Uh, Cass...?” Too late, she’d already bundled the boy in her arms and stood. Tim took a step back, arms coming up to shield himself from the inevitable next move. He waited for Damian to attempt to break away from Cass, to lash out kicking and screaming, maybe even biting. 

To everyone’s surprise - except Cass, she was never surprised - Damian curled into his sister’s shoulder. She nodded at Tim before moving to leave. 

“No more fighting.”

iv.

Bruce was finally settling back into normal. Well, nothing in Gotham was normal, especially if you were secretly the most well-known vigilante in the city. But, normal to him. 

He was no longer ‘dead’, Dick was no longer ‘dead’ and visitng Gotham regularly, Tim and Duke had settled in to living together with their littlest brother and, oh yeah, he’d gotten Damian back. After months of work and tireless efforts, he could finally hold his baby boy in his arms again. He could ruffle his hair in passing, compare school photos to his own as the boy got older, and bundle him up in a hug when he had nightmares of him being dead. 

And Damian was here, with him. He wasn’t going to be another Jason, another loss of a beautiful soul. He was sitting right next to Bruce on the couch, pencil skittering across a page of his sketchbook. 

Still, it hadn’t been long enough for Bruce’s fears to dissipate. In fact, he doubted they ever would. He would be over-protective of Damian for the rest of his life - even if the young man didn’t want it.  

Breaking the silence, there was a bang at the window. Damian started before setting aside his sketchbook to go check what it was. It was probably Alfred - the cat. Still, images of horrible things went through Bruce’s mind. 

Talia, there to steal Damian away permanently. 

Assassins, back to finish the job. 

Even just a robber taking advantage of a large house smelling like money, who had the element of surprise and a gun. 

Bruce was up before his brain knew what his legs were doing. His arm lurched away from his body, stopping Damian in his tracks. The poor boy walked right into it, rubbing his ribcage with a puzzled expression. 

“I’ll check.” Bruce offered as explanation for the offending appendage, leaving Damian by the couch and pulling back the curtain. Bruce finally let out the breath he was holding at the sight of the fluffy cat on the windowsill. 

v.

“Slow down, don’t rush into things!” Tim hissed, firing his grapple after Damian. He could see the yellow underside of Robin’s cape land on a building ahead of him. 

Tim was more experienced at Gotham thugs, he didn’t blame Damian for not noticing it. Damian was young, and probably trying to prove something to Tim. He was obsessed with proving his worth. He didn’t take the time to smell the air. 

The standard Gotham smog was thick with the smell of burning gasoline. There were promising tendrils of smoke from the building diagonal to Damian. The building he preparing to grapple too. Oh geez. 

Tim ran, he was just fast enough to stick out an arm and block Damian from running forwards and leaping off the edge of the building. 

Damian ran right into his arm. Tim had been expecting him to barrel through it for some reason, maybe because he was so good at fighting or had such bravado. Instead, he reacted the way all eleven-year-olds did. He was knocked back with a grunt, nearly falling over. 

Tim blinked at the strange display of childish behavior as Damian stuck his arms out to regain his balance. He hadn’t even exerted any force on Tim’s arm. His glare after that display lacked any heat, and it was kind of adorable. 

“Damian, pay attention.” Tim gestured at the on-fire building. Suddenly, there were sharp popping and cracking sounds from the smoky warehouse. Tim’s full attention was on it now, and he pulled up the specs of the address. 

It was an old office building but had been abandoned after one of Joker’s attacks damaged the structural integrity. There were signs and bars on every doorway marking it for demolition. He looked over and saw Damian was already doing a read for heat signatures. 

He was, for once, proud of his brother. 

Then Tim noticed something on the specs. The building had an old built-in heating system, attached to a gas-powered generator on the third floor. Hoo boy, it was going to blow. 

After a rather loud bang, Tim acted. For once he didn’t plan out every bad thing this next action could cause. He lunged, using the arm that had still been hanging in the air slightly in front of Damian to grab his little brother and pull him against his chest. He then ducked and pulled his cape around them. Before Damian could recover from the surprise, the building exploded. 

Tim could feel debris bounce off him, though not much. Heat bit at his ankles. Nothing broke through his cape barrier. One hand braced on Damian’s head, he tucked the boy suffocatingly close. Damian didn’t move until the blast had dissipated. 

When it had, Damian shoved hard on his brother’s chest and made a display of brushing himself off. Tim didn’t miss how Damian’s attention was actually on him, quickly assessing him for any injuries. He had none. 

Tim was proud of his brother, for a second time. 

+ (vi.)

Damian did not get along well with most of his siblings, so when the opportunity arose to spend time with one he had actually grown to respect, he took advantage of it. Alfred’s suggestion had made him excited in a way that Mother would’ve thought shameful. Damian did his best not to think that. 

He was nearly bouncing in the backseat of the buick, looking out the window without actually seeing. 

Duke and Damian did not get along when they first met. However, Duke made it clear he was not Robin, nor trying to replace Damian. He was useful in a unique way. He fit in at the manor. He respected Bruce, he even seemed to respect Damian. 

Damian wasn’t so sure he was liked by Duke, but respect was enough. At least, it used to be. 

If respect were enough, would he be listening to Alfred’s show tunes on his way to pick Duke up from school? 

They pulled up to Gotham Academy to see Duke walking out, the bell having just gone. Damian nodded at Alfred’s timing. One of his favorite things about the man was how he always managed to have perfect timing. 

Damian found himself getting out of the car, dangerously close to waving at Duke. Duke saw him and... was that a smile? Damian let out a breath of relief - he’d momentarily been afraid Duke would not be happy to see him. 

When Duke reached him, they were interrupted by a group of teenage boys yelling at them. It took Damian a moment to realize they were yelling at him. 

“Duke, I thought you had too much self-respect to get in a car with some spoiled little rich kid!” Yelled one. Rich? Yes. Spoiled? Well, only recently. 

“The brat’s probably illiterate since he’s too much of a coward to go to school!” Damian knew several languages and was already 3 grades ahead. Couldn’t they think of any better insults?

“Little arabian bastard, did they actually do a DNA test on this one?” Ok, that one stung a bit. Damian was preparing to get back in the car and bristle, perhaps vent to Grayson later. He was not prepared for a low growl to come from Duke. 

“How. Dare. You.” Thomas hissed. Damian turned back to look at him, he was positively seething, fists clenched at his sides. 

“Come on Duke, why hang out with the petty little brat?” 

Duke lurched forwards and Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he actually preparing to defend him? Damian copied a move he’d learned from the rest of his family to diffuse a situation. 

He stuck out his arm, though it only caught Duke in his middle, he looked down. Successfully diffused. Damian was impressed with the immediate effect. 

“They are not worth it, Thomas.” 

Duke nodded and followed Damian into the car. Then he grinned. 

“Back there... you... did you just mom-arm me?”

“What-arm you?!”

Alfred restrained laughter the rest of the way home at Damian’s facial expression while Duke explained the reasoning and use behind the ‘mom-arm’.