#father and son who take the sane meds and all

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

~These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for~

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"So, I did a deep dive online. You were right. Sensei is definitely Keene's father." Hawk told him, his voice somewhat low as they stretched out their legs.

Miguel sighed and shook his head. "I just don't get why he didn't tell us." He looked over at his friend.

"I don't know but it explains why he was giving us shit about kicking Keene's ass in the tournament. Show no mercy, unless it's his son. Then we have to be pussies" Hawk's voice started to edge in anger. 

Aisha walked over to the two boys. "Have you guys seen the commercial?" She asked. When they didn't answer and just looked confused, she said. "Sam's dad started his own dojo. And he disses Cobra Kai." She held out her phone, and Miguel snatched it to watch the video.

Trixie walked into the dojo, late once again with her gi already on and two-toned hair tied up into a bun. She grumbled, clearly irritated, and walked over to her friends.

"Woah, something the matter?" Miguel asked, and Trixie shrugged.

"I ran out of my meds. The withdrawal symptoms were kicking in this morning because I just threw up." Trixie gagged before setting down her bag.

"You take medication?" Hawk asked curiously.

"I thought I told you this already." She rolled her eyes as she sat down next to them, contorting her body into the splits as she stretched. "Antidepressants, remember? To keep me sane and non-suicidal?"

"Right." Hawk nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the topic, which reminded him of Demetri.

"Trixie, did you see the ad?" Aisha asked. Trixie nodded. She didn't feel like having a filter today because the words spewed out of her mouth.

"He's not being too subtle with the 'snake in the grass'. I tried to get a hold of Sam and Robby, but she blocked me on all apps and he’s obviously ignoring me." Trixie sighed as she started twisting her torso.

"You still have Robby and Sam's number?" Hawk asked, now slightly angered. Trixie glared at him before stretching out her arms with an eye roll.

"Yes, I still have Robby and Sam's number, why? I mean, Aisha's got Sam's number." Trixie gestured to Aisha, who merely shrugged.

"The problem is that you have Robby's number."

"Then why didn't you just say that?" She snapped back, "Robby and Sam ditched me. Calm the hell down."

"Alright, alright." Miguel interrupted their bickering, "You guys are a lot more snappier than usual."

"Yeah, maybe it's because Keene is Sensei's son," Hawk whispered but it wasn't like he wanted to be quiet about it though.

"Yeah, I figured. Sensei's not one to go to an opponent and ask him if he's okay," Trixie said as she leaned to the side, stretching out her legs even more.

"You knew and didn't tell us!?" Hawk exclaimed.

"Will you just shut it about Robby? God, you make it look like he's your boyfriend or something." Trixie rolled her eyes, "So what if he's Sensei's son? You guys were assholes back at the tournament, he had every right to yell at you."

"Trixie... Maybe you should drink some water. You're getting a little heated." Aisha suggested. Trixie breathed in before taking a long sip of her water. She looked back at the boys before sitting down once again.

"My bad guys." Trixie said, "I guess I'm just pretty irritated. Everything hasn't been going well." She smiled slightly before setting down her water bottle.

"It's fine." Hawk shrugged, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"The withdrawal getting to your head?" Miguel asked. Trixie nodded.

"Irritability, anxiety, insomnia, nausea, headaches. Just the regular symptoms that can make you feel like shit." Trixie sighed.

"Why'd you come here then? Shouldn't you rest?" Miguel asked. She shook her head.

She traced her bruised knuckles, slightly zoning out as she spoke. "Almost missed class last time. Can't be late again if I want to get better, do I?"

"Don't you have ballet?" Aisha chimed in, slightly confused because usually Trixie was supposed to be practicing ballet and not punching a punching bag.

"I quit ballet days ago." Was all she said before shutting herself up and continued stretching.

_____________________________________________________

"Cami, no. We're not getting a funnel cake." Trixie said as she held onto her sister's hand tightly. The last thing she needed was to lose her in the crowd.

"But it's for Trickie!" Camille innocently smiled, even though Trixie knew Patrick didn't want a funnel cake.

"No, Cami. Let's go watch the show." She smiled as Camille grumbled but followed her.

Camille hung on the girl's hand, clearly trying to irritate her. Trixie pulled her along before running into someone. They're jacket fell to the floor. "Oh! Sorry." Trixie smiled apologetically, reaching down and handing the girl her jacket back.

"No, it's fine." A girl with bleached tips said as she grabbed the jacket, her hand staying on the jacket a little longer than usual.

“Cool bracelet.” Trixie complimented the spiked piece of jewelry on the girl's wrist.

“Thanks. Nice shoes.” The girl said.

"Trixie... Are we going to watch the showwwww!!!" Camille complained. Trixie sighed.

"Sorry about her," Trixie said before walking away with her whiny sister through the crowd.

"Alright, now do I have a treat for you! Please turn your attention towards the Larusso Auto group. They have a presentation of Miyagi-Do karate." The announcer said in a cheerful voice.

The crowd looked over as the presentation began, the three bowing, moving in sync. Sam and Robby were doing the same thing while Daniel did something else but it all went together well. Daniel had a Bo, swinging at Sam twice and she blocked.

Trixie clapped, even though she was mad at Sam and Robby for ignoring her when she didn't even do anything, she still was going to support them either way.

Then he turned to Robby. He swung it at the boy's legs but Robby avoided it by doing a roll, the crowd gasping loudly. They stood up and bowed. "Now, time for the grand finale," Daniel said pleasantly.

He started pushing out a cart with six thick ice sheets that he was going to chop through. Suddenly the lights went out and some mic feedback was heard. "Cobra Kai!"

Trixie widened her eyes as her dojo came onto the stage, crashing the Miyagi-Do performance with their own. One of the students shouted as they ran down in two perfect lines, chanting their dojo name as they went.

As they passed, the crowd started to follow them. "What the hell is going on here?" Daniel said, watching them pass. A banner dropped above the opposite stage of the Cobra Kai logo. The students moved in perfect sync.

"Cobra's show them what real karate looks like!" Johnny said, standing on the side. They started sparring, some hitting the ground as the others got the better of them, the crowd cheered loudly. At the end of that, Miguel was the last one standing.

Trixie cheered, forgetting about the Miyagi-Do performance as she clapped for her team. "Miguel!" She yelled. Miguel looked around before waving at Trixie with a smile.

Aisha was blindfolded as she kicked and punched through boards. "YEAH AISHA!" Trixie yelled from the crowd with pride. Maybe they were slightly badass.

Hawk pulled Demetri onto the stage and handed him aboard. Demetri held it away from him at head level, his eyes squeezed shut.

Miguel's hands laced together, giving Hawk a boost as he kicked through the board. They threw soma cobra kai merchandise into the crowd. Johnny walked onto the stage, five cement slabs in front of him, raised off the ground. "Cobra's light it up!" He shouted.

Two boys walked over, one of them putting lighter fluid on the slabs and the other lighting them on fire. Johnny looked at them before punching through them.

The crowd went wild and started chanting Cobra Kai as the students joined their Sensei on the stage again.

_____________________________________________________

Kreese walked in front of the students, who formed a square around him. "You got to understand that Mogadishu I'm the 90s was a hellhole." He said. "Warlords controlled swaths of the city. Me and my team were sent there to clean up." He was mainly talking to Hawk and Aisha while Trixie and Miguel were stretching.

"How many warlords did you kill?" Hawk asked and Kreese turned his eyes to him.

"Do you keep track of every ant you stomp out?" He asked, making Hawk gasp in amazement and Trixie roll her eyes.

"Woah.." Aisha said. Miguel rolled his eyes as well.

"Badass," Hawk smirked.

"We were outgunned. We were outmanned. I tell you, Rwanda was no joke." Kreese told them.

'Outnumbered, out planned.' Trixie snickered to herself. Miguel stood up from stretching, slightly confused.

"Don't you mean Somalia?" He asked. Trixie snickered again, he was still a slight nerd at heart. "Mogadishu is in Somalia. Rwanda is a whole different country."

Kreese turned around to look at him. "Of course, Somalia." He said with a chuckle before turning back to Hawk and Aisha. "I was in the sandbox so much, it all just kinda bleeds together, you know?"

"Alright, listen up!" Johnny called as he walked out of the back room. "I see we got recruits. Everyone fall in! In neat rows and lines." Johnny said. The students started moving to where they were supposed to be. "It's time to see what you're made of."

He started walking through the rows. "Straighten up, ginger twins." He said lowly to two boys who instantly straightened their backs. Johnny walked up to the guy who worked at Home Depot. "I'm sorry but my parents can't stay for class. It's an insurance thing." Johnny told him.

"I'm not a dad. I... I'm here to kick some ass, sir. " He said, glancing around the dojo with nervousness.

Johnny looked at him. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" He asked, eyes narrowing some.

"I, uh, I sold you the mirror." He glanced back at a mirror. "We bonded over rock bands," He trailed off near the end.

"You're a little old. This is a class for teenagers." Johnny told him. The man looked around him.

"I can take 'em. I'm not afraid of kids, sir. And my mom, she doesn't charge me rent so I got cash to burn." He said, pulling some money out of his shirt pocket. He held it towards Johnny. Johnny took the money.

"We'll consider this a trail run." He muttered as he walked towards the front. "I thought my last recruits were pathetic. But if you do what I tell you to do, you at least have a chance of becoming a fighter." Johnny's blue eyes scanned the crowd. "But that means you have to fight. So who has the balls to take on the champ?" He asked. Aisha glanced toward Miguel and Hawk.

Trixie started to raise her hand with a smirk before she was cut off. "I'll take him on." A female voice said. Turning to look back, they saw a girl with longer hair that was brown at the roots and brown eyes. 'Hey... Wasn't she the girl I accidentally bumped into at Valley Fest?' Trixie thought to herself.

"You will, huh?" Johnny looked at her.

"I saw your little demo at the Valley Fest. You can put on a good show but can you fight?" She asked, glancing around.

Johnny was walking forward, now standing in front of her. "That sounds like a challenge." He said.

She looked slightly up at him. "I like a challenge." She said, Trixie smirked. She already seemed badass from the start, and people don't go around telling people she can beat an All-Valley champion. Then again, Miguel wasn't technically a champion, was he?

"Mr. Diaz, show Miss Hotshot here what Cobra Kai's all about," Johnny said as he walked back up to the front. Miguel bowed to Johnny. Everyone started moving back, clearing off the mat.

Miguel looked at her. "Look, are you sure you wanna do..." He was asking when she kicked him in the stomach, making him stumble back but he didn't fall. "Okay." He said with a smile on his face. "Game on."

The smile instantly faded away. The fight started with her attacking but he blocked the hit easily, "Close the gap." He told her, using his legs to sweep her. She hit the ground but flipped back up, "You're telegraphing. Don't let me see it coming." He told her.

She tackled him to the ground. "Did you see that coming?" She questioned, standing up.

Miguel put one leg behind hers and one leg at her stomach and quickly took her to the ground. "Maybe." He was a bit out of breath. He stood up and offered his hand to help her up. "My name's Miguel."

She took his hand. "Tory." She flipped him over, using her shoulder. She held his arm back and put her other hand on the side of his face, holding it to the ground. "With a Y."

As the class ended, Tory with a Y came up to Trixie with a smile. "Hey, I've seen you before, right?" She asked and Trixie nodded.

"Yeah, I'm Beatrix, just call me Trixie though." Trixie said, she didn’t need anyone calling her Bea anymore anyways, and held out her hand and Tory shook it happily with a smile.

"I love your earrings," Trixie said, and Tory touched her earrings with a smile. Well, Trixie's first impression of Tory was right, this girl was pretty badass.

"Thanks, I like your hair." She pointed to her two-toned hair.

"Thanks," Trixie smiled as they both started to leave the class.

"Hey, Trixie!" Miguel shouted after the girl. She turned around and smiled. She recently noticed she hadn't been talking to him as much so she was slightly thankful for this interaction.

"Hey, Miguel. Did you need anything?" She asked, Miguel nodded happily.

"So, I-I was wondering if you... Uh, w-well you don't have to but it was just-" Miguel stuttered out before being interrupted.

"Hey, are we going?" Tory asked Trixie, who nodded.

"Sorry, Miguel." Trixie smiled apologetically, "Text me later, alright?"

Miguel nodded, although he seemed pretty bummed out by the interruption. Trixie wondered why before following her friend out of the dojo.

"He likes you." Tory teased with a smile and Trixie rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "And you like him, right?"

"No way, I mean, I'm not sure but-" Trixie cut herself off before embarrassing herself even more. "That obvious, huh?"

"Nah, it's just that you guys look at each other like those sappy rom-coms that middle-aged women watch." Tory teased and Trixie gasped with horror.

"I happen to like those rom-coms! You wound me, Tory." Trixie sighed dramatically.

_____________________________________________________

"Okay, this is not the beach." Tory looked around, "Where're the homeless dudes in rollerblades and the guys shoving shitty hip-hop demos in your face?"

"They're lurking around somewhere." Trixie joked and Aisha chuckled slightly.

"Don't worry, they come out after they pass out the hors d'oeuvres." She added and both of the girls laughed.

“Tory, be our savior and hide us from Sam please.” Trixie said as they walked above the pool.

“So, Aisha’s upset about Sam because of karate, what about you? You don’t seem the type to stop being friends with someone because of a sport.” Tory said as they passed a table of food. “Hey, I’m gonna get some food for all of us.” Aisha said and Tory and Trixie nodded.

“We’ll find a place to sit.” The two-toned haired girl smiled as she and Tory continued walking together to find a place to sit. “Anyways, Sam ghosted me but it was before the All Valley Fest. I don’t really know what I did to her that’ll make her hate me.” Trixie shrugged and Tory scoffed.

“What a bitch, anyone who’s lucky enough to know you would totally want to stay friends with you.” Tory said and Trixie chuckled nervously.

“I’m not so sure, my brother says I can be a bit bitchy at times.” Trixie smiled before spotting Sam lounging down by the pool with… Robby. She scoffed.

“Enough about the Sam talk, what about you and Mr. Champion?” Tory smirked and Trixie bit the inside of her cheek to keep her from smiling. “What’s the deal with you two?”

“It’s sort of awkward… I liked him before he started dating… Sam… And I even encouraged them to get together.” Trixie said and Tory widened her eyes, “I know, but I just felt bad about getting in between them. Now me and him are flirting and… He just broke up with Sam and even though we’re not friends, I shouldn’t get with her ex.”

“I say go for it! You liked him before, what was it about the Cobra Kai dojo thing? Strike first?” Tory encouraged her, though she didn’t seem too keen on the idea of Miguel dating Trixie.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be a rebound! And Sam knows I know she blocked me so it looks like I’m using him to make her jealous.” Trixie groaned, “I just don’t want to be the asshole.”

“So what? You’ve pushed aside your feelings for him for far too long, and if it doesn’t work out, just get with me!” Tory winked and Trixie laughed. “Y’know there’s probably vodka in the back of the club, right?”

“I’m liking you more and more Tory.” Trixie grinned as they both got up from the seat to get the bottle of vodka from the back.

_____________________________________________________

"Hey, look what I got." Tory said in a happy voice as she walked over. She pulled a bottle of vodka barely out of her purse to show it. 

Aisha looked at her. "How'd you get that?" Her eyes were a bit wide. 

"We swiped it from the bar." The blonde was smiling and she jerked her head towards Trixie, who was currently talking to some guy. Sam and Aisha shared a look. "Oh relax, all the adults are getting wasted, no one's going to notice if we're having a little fun." 

"You should put that back, you could get into big trouble." Sam said, drawing Tory's attention. 

"And you are?" She asked with a hint of venom in her voice. "Oh Tory, this is Sam. Sam, Tory." Aisha introduced. 

Tory gave a smile although it was more of a knowing smirk. "Ohhh. The Sam. Come on, one's going to miss one bottle of vodka." She said sassily. "I could swipe half the silverware here before anyone would notice."

 Sam looked up at the girl, Tory was a bit taller, "You shouldn't steal anything." 

Tory gave a quick little laugh. "What are you, a nun?" Sam's smile faltered and she glanced down. "Come on, are we going to drink or not?" Her brown eyes turned to Aisha. 

Aisha bit her lip, looking back at Tory. "Alright, one drink." Tory smiled as they started to walk away from Sam. 

She put her arm around Aisha. "That's my girl." She said with a giggle before yelling to Trixie, “Hey, Trix! Guess what?!” 

Sam watched as Trixie peeled her eyes away from the guy she was talking to before her smile grew wider as she saw the bottle of vodka. She knew it was wrong to have blocked her, but…

Sam went down to the pool where Robby was. They both gathered their things up, ready to leave the country club as soon as possible. "I'm sorry about Aisha." Robby told her softly. 

"She can be friends with whoever she wants." Her voice held an edge to it and Robby shot her a glance before speaking once again.

“What about, Bea? She looked pretty upset.” Robby said and Sam sighed.

“I blocked her. Everything was sort of awkward after the All Valley Tournament and she was… Flirting with Miguel.” Sam bit her lip.

 Amanda walked over, rummaging through her purse. "Have either of you seen my wallet? " 

Robby looked over at her, his face gone serious. "You're missing your wallet?" He asked. "I'll go check the beach. Maybe someone turned it into the lifeguard."

Sam looked around before hearing Trixie, Tory, and Aisha all laugh together as they stumbled their way to their shared table. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, you gave her a front wedgie?” Tory asked Aisha for confirmation as she giggled.

“I split that bitch in two.” Aisha grinned and Trixie laughed.

“Wish I were there to see it, that bully deserved it.” Trixie smiled before a familiar voice behind her called out to them.

“Hey!” The trio turned around to see Sam glaring back at all of them, “My mom’s missing her wallet.”

“Sucks for her.” Tory said and Aisha and her chuckled. Trixie avoided looking at Sam, clearly not drunk enough to deal with her.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that?” Sam asked, a slight accusation coming through as Tory squinted at her.

“Wait, what’re you saying?” Aisha asked.

“Just give me her wallet, and I won’t tell security.” Sam said and Tory walked up to her.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Tory asked.

“Sam, she didn’t steal your mom’s wallet.” Aisha frowned.

“She was with us the whole time.” Trixie chimed in, crossing her arms as she glared slightly at Sam. “Why would she need to steal your mom’s wallet, anyways?”

“Right. And she didn’t steal a bottle of vodka,” Sam directed to Tory, “And you wouldn’t steal half the silverware in here.”

“Listen, I didn’t rob your mom, bitch.” Tory defended. Trixie put her hand on Tory’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, she can believe what she wants.” She said, de-escalating the situation as best as she could. “We both know she’s wrong so there’s no point in arguing.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Tory nodded as the trio turned away, only to be pulled back as Sam grabbed Tory’s bag. “Get off of me!” She yelled, pushing her into a table of food.

Tory walked away, furious and slightly humiliated as Aisha walked away with her. Trixie stared at Sam, clearly conflicted before holding her hand out for the girl. Sam glared at her before eventually taking her hand.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Trixie muttered quietly before shooting a quick text to Tory.

Hey, I’m gonna stay for a while. We could talk later???

Tory🌹: Yeah, sounds good  I really need to talk it out

[giorno-plays-piano]

One Of A Kind

Pairing: yandere!Steve x Reader.  Warnings: obsession, graphic depiction of violence, death of minor characters, unstable skinny Steve.  Words: 1963.  Summary: the ones hunting your family knew nothing of a monster in human shape lurking behind your back.  Ps. I’ve finally decided to choose Steve for this one. Thanks to everyone who participated in the discussion!  _____________________________________  Steve was an odd kid. Well, technically, he wasn’t much of a kid - he had already turned 18 - but with his extremely skinny built he looked younger to you. You knew his mother fell very sick when she was pregnant with him, and it explained a lot about his physique. It wasn’t his physical health that troubled you, though.

He was really into this military stuff, secret operations, death traps, serial killer hunting, things that guys of his age were not often interested in. Not to this extent, at least. His room was full of war history books, documentaries, scary posters with roaring bears, his own drawings of knives, guns, grenades and things like that. Steve didn’t talk much, and sometimes he even preferred gestures to communicate with others. You thought that maybe his anger manifested itself in this way. You didn’t even want to imagine how severely Steve had been bullied at school before moving here. Thankfully, most of the time he was really sweet to you, smiling shyly, helping you out with the choirs and trying to adjust to living together. Your dad married his mother a month ago, and now you all moved into a new house, pretending to be an average happy family.

Except for Steve’s disturbing hobbies, it wasn’t that bad, actually. You were slowly getting accustomed to the presence of someone other than your father, having nice family dinners together, going to shop with your stepmom who was always treated you nicely, playing cards with Steve in the evenings… You could get used to it. One of the hardest things was trying to think of Steve as your younger brother because you just didn’t feel like it. You were growing closer and closer with each day, true, but to consider him your relative wasn’t that easy. Maybe you couldn’t accept him this way at all. Maybe him just being your friend would be enough.

The first day you moved into a new house your stepmother asked you to keep an eye on him when she wasn’t around. She said something about his health – he needed to take his meds every day – and pleaded you to forgive Steve if he would be rude to you. She asked you not to tell anything to your father. It was surprising, considering the fact you dad wasn’t really strict or unkind, but everyone had their fears, right? In the end, you meant the world to your him. She was afraid he would hardly tolerate her son’s bad attitude towards you.

Anyway, you knew your father wanted you to became closer to Steve, and you did the best you could. At the end of the month it was you bringing him his medication every evening, not his mom. You were wishing him goodnight and turning off the lights in his room as if you truly were his older sister, and he was more and more willing to spend time with you. As the time passed, Steve didn’t seem so scary to you anymore. He was just a poor kid mistreated by people.

It all changed when those men showed up in your house one morning. They were heavily armed, black balaclavas concealing their faces, their beefy figures advancing upon your father. The next moment he was laying dead in the hall. The blood gushing from the hole in his chest quickly covered the grey floor you had only washed yesterday.

Steve’s mother was the next one after a man asked her something and was not satisfied with her answer, apparently. You heard the gun firing in the kitchen, and you knew what had happened to her. But the only thing you did was staring at the floor covered in your father’s blood, your body frozen to the point you forgot how to breathe.

They were dead. They were dead, and you were all alone in the house with five murderers. The only reason why you were still alive was because they simply didn’t see you standing on the top of the stairs.

No, you were not alone. You had Steve. You needed to get him out of the house before these men caught you.

“Get the kids!” Somebody yelled from the kitchen, and you ran without thinking.

Steve’s room. Steve’s room. In the end of the corridor. To the left.

Somebody was already following you with such speed you could hardly outrun him. You didn’t dare to glance back, but you knew it was a large tall man with a knife or something like that in his hand instead of a gun because he didn’t shoot you outright. He would either kill or rape you in the next 10 seconds. Maybe he would kill you once the leader got whatever he wanted from you.

“STEVE!”

You jumped to the door and suddenly fell onto blue carpet in his room, Steve standing right in front of you with something in his hand. You blinked and heard the loud steps of a man behind you.

“Help me!”

Your head was not working properly, panic ruling over you now. Why did you ask him for help? What could tiny Steve do against a 6’5 feet tall armed man who was obviously not some rookie robber? It would take at least several policemen to bring him down, not a scared to death girl with shaking hands and a kid skinny as a rail.

Then you heard a weird bubbling sound somewhere behind your back and saw Steve’s black boots moving instantly. Why was he wearing his combat boots in the house? And, more importantly, did he just throw something at the man?

Crawling further to the opposite wall, you didn’t dare to turn around until you felt the boy’s gentle hand pulling you up with a strength you never expected from him. His sickly-sweet smile was now gone, one of his hands covered in blood and clenching a small knife, the other holding your arm. You looked at his unnaturally calm expression, all emotions wiped from his face.

“I will help.” He said quietly and moved to the door, punching the man’s legs to the side to close it.

Then you finally saw the intruder laying down on the floor and not moving. Did Steve knock him out? Did he throw the knife at him once he entered? The pool of blood under his face was growing so much you realized Steve must have cut his throat right after that.

There was no time for second thoughts when the boy motioned you to the open window. He got on the red roof first and helped you to come down, then jump right into the bushes. You were shaking feverishly, understanding absolutely nothing but following Steve to the forest without a word. At that moment he was godlike to you, your protector, your saviour, the one who had just saved your life. You didn’t ask where he got the knife or how he managed to kill that big guy. Nothing else mattered than your survival.

The next moment you were fully conscious the two of you were somewhere in the woods, Steve wandering around some garbage and fiddling with rusted metal and pieces of rope. He had bandaged your leg that you scratched badly while clawing your way through the bushes. Where did he get the bandages? You looked around and saw a first-aid kit on the ground near you. When did he?..

Now watching him you thought Steve was way too collected. His face betrayed no emotion when he placed a plank with long nails in the grass. Then he pulled the string somewhere close to the fallen tree, setting some kind of a trap. You could not comprehend what he was doing.

You reached down the pocket of your shorts instinctively, searching for anything that might help. Instead you found one of Steve’s white pill cases with his meds. You often carried them with you not to forget to give him a few every evening.

When he suddenly touched your arm you almost jumped, shivering and letting out a gurgling sound. The boy was standing in front of you and gazing at the pill case in your hand.

“Your… your meds.” You mumbled under your breath. “For the evening. You’ll be ok.”

He smiled, rubbing your shoulders with his unbearably hot hands dirtied with dry blood. For some reason Steve looked happy as if you two were not in the middle of the woods, chased by fi… four murderers. Why was he so calm? He heard the gun twice; he knew his mother was dead.

When you watched him as he took your hand again and pulled you forward, you saw him wearing his black jacket, t-shirt and tactical pants. Why? He didn’t plan to go anywhere this morning; it was Sunday. When did he get dressed? Did he do it when he heard the men coming? But it happened in the matter of two minutes maximum. Did he start gathering his things once he heard the first shot?..

“Steve.” You felt tears streaming down your face when you saw an old metal bear trap close to one of the multiple trails on the forest glade.

He pointed his finger to the other places around, and you saw snares and ropes everywhere.  

“Steve.” You repeated weakly, thinking of everything that happened. You were ready to cry. “They’re dead. Our p-parents… These people will kill us too.”

In a second, he let go of your arm and stepped closer to you, his hands now on the sides of your face. His hollow eyes stared at you sharply. Opening his mouth wide, Steve pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof that way you could see and then exhaled slowly. After that he closed his mouth and inhaled through the nose for a few times. You realized you were repeating after him – he was teaching you to control your breath. Steve was helping you to calm down.

You were breathing with him for a few minutes until you felt your heartbeat returning to normal.

“If you want my protection,” he said calmly, touching the lock of your hair, “I will protect you.”

You squeezed his hand in yours, staring him into the eyes. You only realized now something was very wrong with Steve. He acted nearly… inhuman. He wasn’t bothered by the death of his parents. He wasn’t frightened like any sane person would be in a situation like this. No, instead he planned how to get rid of those guys, setting death traps right before your eyes. He made them so thoroughly and so fast as if it weren’t his first time setting them. And where on Earth did he get a real bear trap?

Something was telling you he was far more dangerous than any of those men breaking into your house. You had never asked his mother what mental issues he had, right? You had never found out what his meds were for. Were they really just for helping him to calm down before going to bed? Why was his mother always keeping him in her sight? Why had his hobbies always involved depiction of extreme violence?

You bit on your lip and looked at Steve’s face. Whoever he might be, he was your only savior. So be it. If it was the only way to survive, to avenge your parents slaughtered like pigs, so be it. Whatever he would do, these people deserved it.

“I want it, Steve.” You whispered to him, gently rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He gave you one of his sweet smiles in return and showed you the safe path on a glade full of his traps, guiding you by the hand.

[sebs-anxiety-and-insanity]

TW: Implied self harm, implied suicide, c!thomas is a sad mess, cussing

Viewer discretion is advised

Here is the song by city and colour

The way it used to be/ ThVi (its sad)

-------------------------------------------------

This is the story of a man

Thomas sat on his couch, scrolling through Twitter, replying to mentions here and there, just sitting. He felt Virgil lay down on his lap, going seemingly limp against him. Thomas put down his phone to turn his attention to his boyfriend. "You good there, Virge?" He nodded, smiling. "Having anxiety is just exhausting." Thomas sighed. "Why didn't you come get me?" Virgil shook his head. "Didn't wanna bother you, and besides, it wasn't even that bad. Now I am here with you." He turned on his side wrapping his arms around Thomas's waist. Thomas sighed in content. He knew this would be the rest of his life and he was completely happy with it.

Who took for granted everything he had

"I- I'm sorry okay? Please calm down!" Virgil said harshly not wanting to scream anymore than Thomas already had. "NO! WHAT THE HELL?!!! YOU KNEW THAT WAS IMPORTANT TO ME!!! THAT COULD'VE BEEN MY BREAK!!" Virgil shrunk back a bit. "I- I know, but-but I can't help it! Its literally my job!" Thomas huffed. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ANXIETY!!!!" Virgil flinched. He called him anxiety instead of his name.... Right as Thomas began to opened his mouth again, Virgil teleported to his room, locking the door.

And how he let it all just slip away

From then on, Virgil didn't act the same, flinching away from touches, hardly speaking and never wanted to be touched really. And a few months after a few more fights and awkward encounters he finally came out of his room he only grabbed a book, one Thomas had never seen before, and left. Returning hours later to say quietly that it would never happen again. And he left. Thomas would've gone after him but he had to go somewhere, and he would always be here when he gets back. Waiting for him since there isn't no where else to go.

Never to return again

He arrived back home sad? He hadn't had any anxiety which was unusual since he was surrounded by a bunch of people, bombarding him with a bunch of questions. He decided now was the time to go check on Virgil, say he is sorry and figure out why everything seemed gloomy. He went into the mind palace, and even the living room which was a neutral space was sad, not as much as everything else but still sad. He walked up the stairs, immediately noticing the bright blue door that had dogs and cats with a couple of frogs, was deepened and cracked, similar things done to the other doors. He walked down closer to Virgil's room, when he heard sobbing. Panic seeping in he ran to Virgils room only to stop dead in his tracks. Patton was crying, and was being cradled by Logan. Janus was in tears on Virgils bed, cradling a piece of fabric. He looked in the bathroom and his blood ran cold. Roman had tears steaming down while harshly talking with Remus, who was in the same state. He couldn't make out what they were saying since they were not audible from where he was. And a single limp arm dangled from the bathtub, red streaks streaming down said arm. Rushing in Roman immediately tried to stop him from seeing, but it was too late. He already saw Virgils lifeless body in a bathtub of red from his bleeding wrists. Tears streaming down his face. He faught against Roman to get to his boyfriends lifeless body. Why did this happen?

Now twenty years have come and gone

"Yeah, well fuck you! You shouldn't still be mourning him! And even if you weren't you still can't pretend I am him!" Anxietys distorted voice rang throughout the room. Thomas flinched. It's been twenty fucking years and they still didnt know anxietys name. And he still looked like Virgil which didnt help shit. He looked up to notice that Anxiety had disappeared. He sighed sitting back down on the couch, head in his hands. god what happened?

And still he wonders what he did so wrong

The next week he stayed in his room, refusing to do anything. Yeah it was twenty years ago but seeing anxiety made it yesterday. He soon created a sick little world in his head, where Virgil never died. And they just broke up. But Thomas knew there was hope of getting Virgil to get back together.

And how that he can win back *his* heart

Anxiety was now scared to be anxiety. Patton always trying to be happy, but failing from time to time, but still always vowing to protect him from such awkward encounters with their host. Anxiety would walk down to get a snack and Thomas would have a date set up for the both of them. Always calling him 'Virgil' and ignoring him saying that he wasnt this 'Virgil' he kept speaking of. And even though he failed, Thomas would always try again. He just had to win Virgils heart back. Ignoring Logan who was trying to get him to stop this behavior.

And finally step outside of the dark

Thomas sniffed the Roses he had bought which was purple, contrary to Anxietys black clothing. Satisfied with the purchase he left, waving goodbye to the owner of the shop, who had remembered his name and a few things about him, since he was in there every day.

He buys fresh roses every day

He offered the flowers to Anxiety once again, who awkwardly pushed them away and teleported out of the situation. He felt horrible, only being known for the past him, and not- ... well, him! Who even said he liked roses.

His favorite flower- so he used to say

It was the middle of the night, and Thomas was sobbing into the covers. The only time he wasn't stuck in his fake world since he was on medication which often made him forget his fake world for the night. He was sobbing, going through various memories of Virgil wearing roses in his hair. He reached over to take another swig of liquor, the all too familiar taste calming him a bit. And anxiety had to watch, since he never slept.

And now the memories are all that he has left

His drinking got more prominent, and even Remus was worried, usually his sticking thoughts and jokes would be there no matter what, but he was drained and focused on his host, not knowing what to do, but watch as this got sickening, even for him. Anxiety was on the same page as Remus, just at a lower volume. But he was the one who had to watch it 24/7 and he couldnt bare to look at his host like this.

I'm afraid he'll drink himself to death

While Thomas kinda creeped him out, Anxiety still felt bad for him, and it was still his job to protect his host. He decided to tell Logan about the rising intake of alcohol each night, slowly turning into spiked coffee, and other things. He really needed to stop...

This is the story of a man

Patton set Anxiety down, preparing himself. "Hey kiddo... I know you know that Virgil, our previous anxiety and friend, has passed... away. But I don't think, we ever told you how.... And for you to fully understand why Thomas is the way he is now, you need to hear the story, and I'm forced to tell it as Roman and Logan have been losing their minds, you know because of Thomas pretending that Virgil is still alive..." tears gathered in his eyes as he continued, telling the story as best he could.

Who took for granted everything he had

Anxiety felt bad for his past self and everyone else... he completely understood what Virgil was going through. But hearing it from his father figure made it twice as hard to pretend to be unphased by the information. This is one sad and frustrating story...

And how he let it all slip away

Anxiety didn't know how to feel for his host, anger? Or pity? He really tried to understand what had happened, but the relationship between Virgil and his host was really confusing, how could it not be? Especially towards the end...

Never to return again

Tears were now forming in Anxietys eyes as it became harder to understand Patton who was sobbing. He had lost his 'son' after all... And Anxiety felt like he lost a brother.

It's clear he moved on long ago

Thomas spiraled even further as he realized that his efforts to get Virgil back with him were futile. And he hated it. He hated it so much. He took another sip of his spiked coffee. Hoping to calm his nerves however he could. But always no matter what, when his meds arent making him somewhat sober minded, he always goes back to believing that he could somehow still win Virgils heart...

But still he clings on to the distant hope

He never slept now, even before he got atleast two hours of sleep. But that didnt happen anymore.. Thomas just stared at the ceiling as flashes of them together played through his mind. They looked so happy... Virgil looked happy...

That he'll come back and make a happy home

Everyone was spiraling as Thomas did, but it took more time for some of them. And Anxiety couldn't help because that would hurt his host even more. Anxiety decided to stop watching his host at night. Staring at the ceiling. He felt utterly useless, and he hated it. He sighed sitting up, the TV turned off, so it was playing footage of what Thomas was doing, and unsurprisingly he was still drinking and crying softly...

And now its him and the bottle all alone

As he spiraled he seemed to remember that his world was fake. And this made him unpredictable, and the others were spiraling with him, anxiety was spiraling the slowest. Which forced him to be the one always watching him. Sometimes he would look over at the TV to check on him and see him under a cherry blossom tree that had a swing hang on it. It was there he seemed the most sane. And numb, which kinda made it terrifying.

Sometimes you'll see him in the yard

You could tell by just looking at him sitting in the swing he was broken. Tears falling slowly, smiling to himself while he mumbles things to himself, something about how beautiful the imagination was. Clutching what seemed to be a purple hoodie.

A wounded man with a desperate heart

It seemed to be all he ever was, anxiety sighed sadly watching as Thomas pulled weeds from purple roses in the imagination. It seemed to be more of a calming thing, but it was still sad to watch.

He kept his Roses (hedges) trimmed nice and neat

Janus was watching Thomas with anxiety one day. Sadly noting that Thomas had replaced the area around the cherry blossom tree to replicate the way it looked when they first got together.

To keep them the way that they used to be

Thomas sat there in the swing admiring his work.

This is the story of a man

He sighed swinging back and forth a bit.

Who took for granted everything he had

After that day he seemed to be getting better, going to see a doctor about his spiraling.

And he let it all just slip away

Thomas was in fact getting better. He had stopped drink as much as he did, but it was a work in progress, and he even got a bit more comfortable around anxiety.

Never to return again

Thomas hung up the purple hoodie on his bathroom door. Just... admiring it sadly.

A single dress hangs on it's own

He would often would often smell the hoodie, it still smelled like him...

A scent of perfume all he has to hold

He remembers fading to his final sleep that night, clinging to the hoodie...

A wasted life waiting on a dream

As he closed his eyes one final time he saw him and Virgil sitting on the swing. Having fun and talking, just enjoying the others presence.

Hoping for things the way they used to be

He was happy, finally. Gone from the world he knew as pain. And he smiled.

This is the story of a man, who took for granted everything he had. And how he let it all just slip away, never to return again...

-------------------------------------------------

Not really proofread so sorry for any mistakes!!!

But uh yeah hope you enjoyed!!

[mariangelpena]

hello, everyone! my name’s leonie and it’s so lovely to be here. this here is my precious little bean mariangel who is a highkey squish obsessed with all things glittery and pink who’s trying to be a #doctor. my discord is ( emeravdes#9932 ) if you’re interested in plotting stuff w/her or just swinging by to chat! i have to go to bed because it’s like... midnight but i’ll be around tomorrow. later today. anywho! here’s more on mariangel! --- @frostfordstart​

full name: mariangel itzel peña

nicknames: mari, mar, angel/angelito (mainly called this via her parents or her grandparents)

birthday: october 20th

current age: twenty two

sexuality: heterosexual, heteroromantic

personality (+): sweet, innocent, compassionate, brave, organized, cheerful, studios, hardworking, honest, grateful

personality (-): nosy, emotional, private, self-concious, assertive, gullible, passive

BRIEF FAM BAM BACKGROUND

mariangel is the youngest and fourth child of victor and marcella peña - both of which have lived in frostford for their entire lives. marcella’s family moved from tulum, mexico when marcella was still a baby and they spent a lot of time travelling around the US to different states before they found their way to frostford by pure change. 

however, victor’s family had a bit of a longer story. mariangel’s grandfather - miguel angel - moved to the united states from oaxaca mexico in search of a better life for his family which consisted of his wife, Rosa, and their seven children. one of which was victor. after waiting almost five years for miguel angel to come back to mexico, rosa took matters into her own hands and chose to make the dangerous trip to the united states with her seven children in toe. thus came the peña family settling into frostford and branching out and establishing families of their own.

victor and marcella met while victor was in the army corps of engineers and eventually married and began to have their family. first came rafael and magdalena, followed by the adoption of their third son antonio and lastly the birth of mariangel. (names for her siblings are all placeholders since there’s a wanted connection out for them & calling them ‘my brother’ each time she mentions them would be... chaotic)

the peñas have a bit of a strange dynamic in the sense that some days they act closer than anything in the world whereas there are other days where they actually act like they hate each other. often times this makes mariangel feel like her siblings don’t like her - something she carries to this day.

THE EARLY YEARS, BAY-BEE

you know when a baby is born and they don’t really cry? just are a good baby who just wants to cuddle and be a ray of sunshine to their parents? that was the kind of baby mariangel was. the kind of child she was.

by the time that she was in kindergarten, she was the little girl who would go up to everyone she met and say hello, ask them how their day was going and then proceed to tell them about something she’d done during the day. the friendliest bean with the most infectious spirit.

was totally that little girl who followed around all her older siblings and cousins wanting to play or find out what they were doing. the nosiest nugget tbh.

however, when she turned 6, her parents told her that they were going to be moving and it was essentially something that crushed her heart at such an early age. she didn’t want to leave her friends behind and other people she’d come to know. she threw a whole ass fit the day they had set to move that victor had to find a way to get her tuckered out and asleep in order to get on the way.

little did she know that she’d be living in eight different states for the next ten years

more on that is over HERE.

over the course of the time she was away and bouncing from city to city, state to state, mariangel was actually very lonely? she spent a majority of her childhood without a single friend to call her own because she slowly began to realize that any time she got attached to people, they would soon be moving and she’d have to leave them behind again. so she figured, what was the point when nothing felt genuine? when nobody would even matter after six months to a years time? all she really could do was keep as much contact w/anyone from frostford that still wanted to be her friend.

to make up for the lack of friends, marcella actually chose to put mariangel into dance lessons and eventually into cheerleading so that her daughter would have something that would make her feel like it wasn’t all bad.

however, due to her more isolated nature, she developed a strong love for reading which brought her down the extensive path which made her the hopeless case that she is today. she dreams of things that she could never have, lives in a bubble of dreams never spoken and wants nothing more than to continue to live in that fantasy since sometimes it’s the most excitement she gets in the day.

100000% a hopeless romantic and she blames all the books that she read that made her think that all love was special. will 100% try to play matchmaker if you let her and she’s surprisingly very good at it.

ALONG CAME HIGH SCHOOL

it was when she was 13 and living in pennsyvlania that she had her first ever boyfriend and it was the same person that she dated up until she was about to turn 16 and was told by her father that they were finally moving back to frostford. for good. no more moving, no more fear of losing things.

naturally, mariangel was ECSTATIC. 

things were a little hard in the beginning because she didn’t exactly feel like she could connect with any of her classmates who’d grown up together. this left her quiet and shy because she felt like an outsider for quite a long time until one day she had a talk with her mother and proceeded to change it around. she chose to be who she had grown to be and soon enough, the bubbly girl with charm and infectious spirit came to the surface as she lost herself in all the things she loved.

dance, cheerleading, all possible clubs that would work within a set schedule as well as signing up for anything in school that needed volunteers like blood drives, etc. all of this while maintaining her grades as high as possible.

because of all these things, she soon rose among the ranks of high school and earned herself popularity that made her pretty well known. this only became more well known when she chose to befriend people who were considered to be ‘lower on the food chain’ as they say in movies. more importantly, the fact that she was the girl who made it very clear that she wouldn’t hesitate to slap someone if she saw them picking on someone she knew.

actually, she’d do it to anyone who chose to bully people. she tried to avoid it by being stern while maintaining an innocent expression but when push comes to shove, slap goes smack against face!

NOW LETS TALK ‘BOUT BOIS

mariangel had a total of two relationships in high school and they all were kind of led into the ground by herself and not exactly knowing who to pick in terms of who she dated. she’d always go for people who were never as invested in the relationship as she was and didn’t want to put in any effort to see that it became something genuine. 

ultimately, in both relationships she ended up breaking her own heart because she had this preconceived idea of what a relationship should be and whenever things started to feel different to that, she just didn’t know how to handle things. which basically made her think that she was just crap at having them. 

by the end of high school, mariangel had become someone that was very well known and liked and like said earlier! she was a smart cookie through and through and she was in the top 10% of her graduating class, ranking at a humble spot of #5. 

THE COLLEGE YEARS

she could have easily gone to a fancy school since she was offered several scholarships but ultimately, mariangel settled on going to the university of alabama tuscaloosa because she could NOT bring herself to go somewhere far away after essentially doing that all her life.

and it made it easy to go and visit family/friends since the drive wasn’t so horrible.

first thing she did when she got to college? make sure that her roommate was sane.

second thing that she did when she got to college? try out for the university of alabama spirit squad because cheer was very much her life and she wasn’t going to live through those years without being in a cheer uniform.

after all that was settled, mariangel did what any sensible girl that grew up obsessed with elle woods and barbie who wanted the full blown college experience would do; find a sorority that she felt would best work for her. and she did when she found kappa kappa gamma.

but despite being someone that always knew what she wanted to do, mariangel didn’t actually know what she wanted to study when she first got to college because initially, she had thought of making into a nursing program. her advisor told her that biology would be the best route since it fell in line with the medical profession which she was aiming for. within six months, mariangel had actually decided that she wanted to actually go to medical school after watching this documentary about doctors without borders. 

after some googling different specialties in pediatrics, she figured at first the she would just be a general pediatrician until she found neonatology aka the doctors that take care and save newborn babies. which is ultimately where she wants to get to in her med school journey.

BUT ALL THAT STUFF ASIDE!

college was a very fun time for mariangel because she was able to do things that she would have never had the chance to do before. she’d always been a goodie two shoes in a sense and she somehow managed to stop caring so much about rules and just live her life. 

10/10 spent a lot of time with frat boys and probs hooked up with her fair share until she met one guy who truly made her heart flutter. her one and only college boyfriend whom she dated for just about three years. Things didn’t necessarily end on a high note so it’s just something that mari thinks about to this day and blames herself for it going to hell even though it wasn’t.

PRESENT DAY

the smallest section lol cause there isn’t much to say here

mari is currently finishing her first year of medical school and spends a lot of her extra time studying because she doesn’t plan to put her summer to waste. it was suggested that she focus on remembering all that she has learned and she won’t forget those wise words.

she’s also working at custard’s last time. if she isn’t your favorite employee, then that’s a shame ‘cause then you’re not getting free toppings on her behalf. 

she’s worked at custard’s since she was 16 and she thinks about the day where she has to leave to focus on school a lot ‘cause she thinks of olive as a second mom.

FUN FACTS

her name is combination of her mothers name and her grandfathers name - mar + i + angel = mariangel. her middle name itzel is taken from ancient mayan name for the goddess of the moon which also translates to ‘she is a rainbow’.

she has a pet ferret named blossom and she’s her pride and joy. if she doesn’t have blossom in a small loungefly backpack with her tiny head just sitting on her shoulder, blossom is probs being too feisty so she stayed home.

her favorite thing to do when she isn’t studying or hanging out with friends is watching paranomal videos on youtube since she wholeheartedly believes they’re real and nothing will change her mind.

her phone kind of lives on do not disturb since she got into med school and only has it set to put calls through from people she has in her favorites. so tbh if she ever answers your text within 10 minutes, you’re probably very special and she puts a lot of value into those conversations.

THE MOM FRIEND TO ALL TWENTY-SOMETHINGS WILLING TO HAVE ONE. will give you hardcore facts while also trying to wrap you in a blanket. and once she moms you? you’ll never get rid of her. 

has a collection of disney themes precious moments figurines & loungefly backpacks. anything disney, she wants it.

you’ll almost always find her wearing some kind of bow or scrunchie in her hair. she quite literally has such a collection that she dedicates a whole drawer in her room just for her scrunchie collection.

she has a weird obsession with legally blonde. please don’t talk to her about that movie if you don’t want her to present a full blow ted talk about both films and the musical. 

she is quite literally frostford’s number one source when it comes to tiktok dances and nobody can change my mind. like this girl knows literally every single dance on that app as well as the ones that are done by people just trying to vibe. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

i have a page set up over ( here ) but we’re gonna include some here while we’re at it!

HER SIBLINGS! they’re currently a wanted connection so pls come to me <3

best friends! people that were always there for her and she’s been there for through anything and everything.

high school exes!

that college ex!

people that don’t like her! mari tends to live anyone and everyone but maybe something happened and suddenly no more friendship.

family friends! 

[crqstalite]

pt. 1, my life day present (malavai && tri’ama)

like many other chapters, this was supposed to be a lot longer and more of a drabble than a series. but i guess it’s joining the likes of unforseen, crossfire and unexpected.

written: 10.10.19. word count: 2,477.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: sunflower, post malone.

character file: darth tri'ama amarillis quinn & captain malavai quinn.

-

gifts are hard. tri'ama would be the first to admit such a thing, and being pregnant when the holiday reared it's ugly, consumerism afflicted head only made it that much worse. now, that's not to say she wasn't always this irritable (dealing with the council ignited a fire in her that typically went unsated), but being confined to the ship wasn't fun either. whatever she intended to get for her companions would have to be ordered, and that didn't go without it's fair share of issues. whether something would fit or not, whether it was big enough or whether two-vee would be unhelpful and announce its contents early all went hand in hand. but malavai had made it especially clear he didn't think it was a good idea for her to be out and about at this point, and vette, pierce and jaesa had quickly agreed.

she couldn't believe she'd been turned on so easily, by her own crew no less.

at least raegia and yusaits had offered to allow her to stay in their luxorious dromound kaasian estate as long as she needed. it had been a long while since she'd stayed with her adoptive parents, and it went without saying they were ecstatic to meet their grandchild. hence why they were en route to the imperial homeworld for the holidays. it took a lot of convincing to allow not only a troublesome soldier, murderous talz and previous twi'lek slave to stay with them, but a good amount of arguing was enough to get them all their own guest rooms. at the very least, they didn't have an issue with jaesa (they were rather proud of her for raising her to be a fervent sith follower), nor malavai (they had their concerns that their grandchild wouldn't be force sensitive, but figured a higher ranking soldier was better than nothing; they knew next to nothing about his betrayal and she wanted to keep it that way for the time being). in fact the man had apparently made a relatively good impression on them that raegia even mused about getting him something lavish for life day. yusaits grunted and replied he'd believe his good nature when he met him. that in itself was odd, yusaits despised every male acquaintance she'd ever made, and raegia was stingy with those outside her family.

not unusual, but the holocalls between the amarillis' were always pleasant.

she wondered when the majority of the crew would return though, she was getting impatient. pierce, malavai and vette had all gone to do their shopping today, with the pretense of returning soon enough to be planetside before the day ended. jaesa was meditating somewhere aboard the ship, and while tri'ama intended to do the same, it seemed her child wasn't onboard with the idea. her current resting spot was in the cockpit, reading through the day's news with one hand on her stomach. she and malavai's child was running rather late, their trip to dromound kass was supposed to be for life day after they were born, but with the way things were going now it seemed like they would be their gift.

that, made tri'ama restless enough. they weren't expected in the least, but after she collapsed on balmorra, malavai had quickly found the reason for her lightheadedness and inability to keep anything down. neither quinn was very sure what to do (she was still jumpy around him at the time, and had her own responsibilities to the council then), but in the end she decided on keeping them. as much as it irked her to be pulled from the battlefield and assist the newly mothered darth nox with ancient holocrons and the such (rumors were her son wasn't human either, which spelled a dark rumor that her child wasn't her husband's), but the budding baby underneath her hand keeps her sane. overjoyed wasn't an overstatement either, as happy as their child made her.

malavai continues to bug her off and on about finding a permanent home to raise their child. as much as he's right, she's not sure she wants to admit that he's right. their quarters aboard the fury have already been converted to accompany a child, but the constant creaking of the ship that she finds comforting might not be the most pleasant to a baby's brand new eardrums. the chance of attack by jedi is always a constant concern as well, and blaster fire? well, she figured keeping pierce and jaesa from training aboard the ship would be a bit of an issue. 'all the problems a home would solve, my love' she can almost hear malavai say. 'jaesa would be able to visit the sanctum as often as she would like, you'd be with council nearly everyday.'

a small kick against her hand returns a soft smile to her face. possibly she's gotten a tad too agitated again, something it seems they can feel just as much as any other force sensitive could, maybe more. she believes this is a good indicator of their sensitivity if this is how they act when her emotions get a bit too out of hand.

while her husband acted as her primary medic, she visited some other, more equipped med droids for routine checkups. now that the nine months (borderline ten) was coming to a close, maybe their trip to dromound kaas was better than she thought. yusaits would've liked to have his grandchild born there anyways, and malavai had no complaints.

"you're awaiting father's return, aren't you my child?" she asks, nearly holding the words back before allowing herself to take on a doting tone. it's odd talking to someone who hasn't even born yet, but their force presence has always been there since she had realized it. warm, and comforting. though they've given no indication of their gender just yet, but the soft red and black of their blankets is enough to let her envision just how precious it would be to finally hold her child in her arms. "he'll be back. and once he is we'll be on our way to visit your grandparents. you'll be the life day gift of...well a lifetime i suppose."

another, softer kick. "your father and i have waited a long time for you, you know that?" she whispers, rubbing a hand over where they'd been rather active lately. "you've kept me benched from the council for a long while now. you'd better be the most powerful sith this galaxy has seen to make up for it, yes?" leaning back in her chair, she chuckles, "my little quinn."

she sits up a bit straighter once she catches sight of her three other companions returning, the three striding through the docking bay with a singular crate. pierce is most likely disgruntled with his position carrying it, but the muscular man seems to have little trouble doing so. she considers getting up, but the soreness in her back keeps her from leaving the cockpit. embarassing, really, but if they need something they should come and find her. a few moments later, she can hear vette's excited voice speaking to pierce, who quietly responds to her (something inelligible she can't make out) and they disappear away from the cockpit. it isn't long before she can hear someone coming inside, and turning her head softly, she finds her husband walking towards her. "malavai, you've returned."

he smiles, speeding his stride before coming to stand next to her. "my love, i hope you haven't strained yourself since i've been away?"

"i suppose not." she answers, rolling her colbalt blue eyes. turning her eyes from her tunic covered belly, she runs a hand through her hair, finding that other than his typically messy tousled hair, nothing was out of place. "you've found everything you needed?"

"yes. we can depart as soon as you are ready to leave." he responds, taking his own seat in the captain's chair next to her. "which is now, i presume? your parents were clear they would've liked to see you days ago."

rubbing her temples, she frowns. "they got your comm code while you were away, didn't they? i told them to leave you be."

"they're simply curious, my love." he answers, futilely trying to defend her adoptive parents as she grimaces. raegia had been a bother since she'd grown large enough to warrant actual concern for her continued participation in the war effort, and tri'ama was surprised she'd managed to get malavai's code. he turns in concern, a touch of panic in his eyes. "are you in pain, tri'ama?"

"no, no of course not. my parents are simply difficult to deal with at times. as i'm sure you'll find out in the following years." she says, as he sets course for the imperial homeworld. the fury shudders quietly before it smooths out, the stars passing by quickly. malavai always seemed so comfortable here, and she can imagine he always has been. as much as he (begrudingly, though she didn't believe that he hadn't bonded with her first companion) trained vette to pilot the fury, the ship was always his. possibly one day they'd begin teaching their own child to navigate the stars as they do.

day dreaming also seemed to come so very easily at this point. it's really rather distracting.

"i'm sure you're curious how they are outside of heated comm calls, yes?" she asks, as malavai sits up just a tad straighter.

turning around in his chair after setting the ship to auto pilot, he softly nods. she can feel that whatever her mother had said, had him worried. she'd ask raegia later, and possibly reprimand her adoptive caregiver about how to respect others again. outside the amarillis estate it seemed that it didn't go far. "raegia, as you've already noticed is just a touch overprotective over me. i have yet to meet their son, my brother, but something happened to him long ago that caused her to always been worried about my health and what i was doing, where i was. i'm sure that this pregnancy is running her ragged even though she's only known about it for a few months."

"yet you're in perfect health..?" malavai questions, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. "i sent her the reports just to keep her from calling the ship."

"nothing will ever satisfy that woman, not until we're in the kassian atmosphere." tri'ama responds. "i was only told that her pregnancy with my brother didn't go well, and that both of them nearly died."

"that's...horrible, my love. her concern is well-placed."

"don't defend the woman. had she known, i would've been pulled from the fury as soon as you could detect a heartbeat. thankfully, i've chosen not to acknowledge that fact, and as soon as i can i intend to get back to business as usual." another kick against her resting hand, and she tries to rub a hand over them to sooth their possible annoyance with her.

"concern is only natural, tri'ama. she is your mother after all." he holds back a sentence for a moment before saying it anyways, "in all seriousness, i'm concerned about your permanent return to the council as well."

"malavai..." she says warningly before he starts again, his features softening.

"things will never be 'business as usual' again, my love. we have a child now, and we can't abandon them because of our prior commitments. as i made you mine, and you made me yours, they are our entire world now." damn him for being so philosophical, and for being right as she pouts, crossing her arms as much as she an in her current condition. "as much as it pains you to be away for so long, they will end up meaning so much to us."

"i suppose you're right." she responds, unable to pull her eyes from her husband's concerned form. the way the blue-ish light from the control panel reflects against his pale skin makes her own face heat, another unseen side effect. "my father, yusaits." she says, changing the subject and leaving it for another time.

"i don't believe he likes the idea of you and i together."

"you're most likely right. do not ask me why, he's never been fond of the idea of my eventual partnership with someone, and not only did i forgo having a proper ceremony, he didn't know until raegia knew about our child." she muses before pressing a finger to her lips, "he is more forgiving than the likes of raegia, i'm sure he'll come around to you at some point."

malavai considers the idea for a moment, before frowning. "are you sure about that? the man was very serious about sitting down and having a chat with me once we landed."

that, mostly likely would lead to nothing but trouble. yusaits only ever chatted for serious matters, asking for a chat with her meant she had elevated her status within the sith order, or she'd done something that required reprimanding. a chat with her mother could be anything from planning a ball to discussing punishment. a chat with a stranger? that could end violent or with them booted off the estate for the foreseeable and unforseeable future.

think happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

"as i said, i'm sure yusaits means well. it's not as if i'm a child anymore. he can't force me to divorce you." she reassures him, standing from her own chair with a bit of difficulty as he rushes to help her up, nearly tripping over himself in the process. she tries to wave away his assistance, but she ends up taking his hand anyways. "i won't perish if i simply get up by myself, malavai, don't you start too."

vette and pierce had been rather annoying about it, though they meant well. jaesa must've picked up on her agitated force signature because she hadn't attempted helping her up, and broonmark must've done the same.

"no man can be apologetic for simply being worried for his wife, can he?" he asks, delicately tipping her chin upwards to plant a soft kiss on her lips. rolling her eyes for what seems like the trillonth time in the last few weeks, she smiles before taking one of his hands in hers and calmly placing it atop her stomach. he's flustered for just a moment before their baby acknowledges his presence by pressing their foot firmly against his hand.

"it will be different once they're here to share our lives with us. i'm not sure i'm ready to change just yet, but as long as i have you by my side, i'll make it." she responds, "now, to see if my parents approve of that choice."

he simply places his arm around her middle to press her as close as she felt comfortable to be. "i love you, tri'ama."

"i love you too, malavai."

[calleo-bricriu]

Guess what I’m still reading? Still reading out of spite but, still reading?

That awful book.

Right, let's get back to the worst book I've ever read and, to note, I am including every single malicious, aggressive, definitely is trying to kill you it's not your imagination Dark Arts book I have ever handled in my entire life, just so we're clear about how bad this story is.

Chapter 5 opens with Leigh, the clear projection of the doctor-author himself, waking up in a room he doesn't recognise and not thinking anything about that is weird, instead writing it off as to it being his "inherent love for the sea" guiding him there.

He then talks for most of the rest of the page about how he has no idea how long he's been there and maybe it was his 'second personality' that was in control which is the first mention we see of that ever having been an issue from him--unless that's just his way of saying, "Must've gone on a bender again."

Tries for awhile to figure out what day it is, apparently gives up, and decides to re-focus on winning...something...from his sister and that doing that would save his son who, as far as we know (as he's only been briefly mentioned), is perfectly fine and not in need of any sort of saving.

Several paragraphs of rambling about how sane and calm he is to the point that he’s sort of proven he’s neither.

Buys a newspaper, finds out he's been blackout drunk for ten solid days, finds out from some random guy on the hotel porch that he bought a yacht.

At this point, I'll remind you that previous chapters indicate he hasn't held a steady job in over a year (mostly due to being drunk and crying to the barman that he's such a misunderstood genius), is always weeks behind on bills, and hasn't paid rent in a few months but somehow dredged up money to buy a yacht while on a bender.

Isn't bothered by this, doesn't think it's indicative of a drinking problem and also it's not his fault because the yacht seller should have known he was drunk and not sold it to him or something.

This is, like, four entire pages in to chapter five and I'm already so tired.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement could read this book aloud in interrogations but even the Ministry might consider it torture.

Oh, Leigh’s problem isn't drinking, by the way; it's "psychic epilepsy" so it's definitely not his fault.

That's--not actually a real thing.

Anyway.

Dozen or so pages of him internally trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this, "I bought a yacht with money I have no idea how I got and possibly got by doing something very illegal" situation.

His wife is also apparently not bothered by this behaviour either, she's just happy to see him; I'd be the opposite because this has been shown to be a pattern of behaviour on his part but, well, she buys the "psychic epilepsy" excuse because she's terrified of being seen as a nag.

Nag him, good lord, do something that isn't completely enabling him to be this way.

Now the narrative is going on and on and on about "unreasonable women" who would pretty reasonably be upset if their husband couldn't hold a job, wouldn't even try to get one, wouldn't let her get one, couldn't pay the bills, and routinely did things like tell her he'd be home in a few hours then go on a 3-10 day bender and show back up without a word.

That's a reasonable set of behaviours to be at least a little annoyed about.

Leads into how it's hereditary, this psychic epilepsy thing, so absolutely not his fault.

He's a regularly paid published author now, by the way, and has been for some time despite this being the first time it's ever been mentioned in any capacity. The only two other careers we've seen from this guy are something to do with working in a laboratory in Germany and working at a hospital as a doctor before being almost immediately fired for a combination of the constant drinking and possibly just being sort of insufferable to be around at work.

Some guy named Rob walks in. No introductions apart from that, we're all just meant to know who the hell Rob is despite this being his first appearance.

Some guy named Charlie/Dr. Bell is also just randomly mentioned and is also in...the house sleeping. People think he's lazy but he's really just conservative, whatever that means.

Find out Mizpra was engaged to some guy named Moore who dumped her to go to Yale, which is evidently why she turned into a "masculine" bitch. Sure, why not?

Philosophy attempts again from Leigh the Misunderstood Genius (who definitely does not have a drinking problem and knows more than you about everything): "Love, Charlie, is  like medical treatment; if it is free, given lavishly and procured without sacrifice, it is thrown aside at pleasure, and the giver ridiculed and derided. Haud expertus loquor."

Okay, first of all, that's not what love OR medical treatment is like. Not even--remotely, especially medical treatment.

Second, stop trying to sound smart with the Latin; all you said was "not experience" there, Mr. Genius who is definitely not a direct projection of the quack doctor of an author.

Leigh used to pay stenographers to go to class for him and take notes so he could go and give theatrical performances to "insane patients". Lovely guy.

Just to remind you, we’re meant to be sympathising with Leigh in this story, not wanting to strangle him every time he opens his mouth to bore everyone for ten pages.

Leigh refuses a drink while they're all at dinner which is one of the few good choices he's made in 81 pages and a little over a year in terms of the story's time line but then ruins it all for answering a joke about it being because he's married with PAGES AND PAGES of him trying to be a fucking philosopher again and just boring the bollocks off of everyone both in the book and reading it. How the hell does this guy know what delirium tremens are yet still thinks his entire problem is caused by psychic epilepsy and not alcoholism?

Charlie asks about money for some reason, probably trying to change the topic and get this moron to stop pretending he knows what he's talking about in any capacity.

That triggers three pages of him doing the same thing, only about money this time. At least in this case, it's mentioned that Leigh "got carried away" so there's a glimmer of self awareness. Probably the only one we'll ever see.

They agree to play golf tomorrow and Leigh and Obera just--get up and leave, despite dinner having not even been delivered to the table yet. Nobody seems to notice.

Chapter 5 is now over.

Chapter 6 time skips an entire year and starts with Mrs. Newcomber and Mizpra sitting outside and it's mentioned it's been a year since Leigh tried to see her so--about a year passed between chapters five and six.

Mother dearest is described as a "pliant tool" that Mizpra somehow convinced to go to Colorado Springs to open up a school, and that's where we are now.

Colorado.

Mizpra gets to pick the ladies who get to go to the school and just seems to do so on a whim, which has made her and it wildly unpopular; fair reaction, no explanation given as to why she acts like that just that she did it "without giving any satisfactory reason."

Colorado has lots of "clever physicians" (but not enough, probably because Leigh isn't there. Yet.) but Colorado is populated by people who just hate doctors. Despite that, they keep moving there.

Then, it skips to Mizpra reading mail and one letter, "announced the  marriage of the plastic Zora to an untutored, scheming Yankee lawyer."

Okay.

First question: Who the HELL is Zora?

Second question: This isn't really a question, I'm just reasonably certain that lawyers, even lawyers in 1901, had to have some level of formal schooling. Then again, so did doctors and here we are with this guy who apparently just slept through every single year of med school he went to.

Someone named Marcia wrote as well and Mizpra doesn't like her either because she "insisted on standing for her rights" and was married to an "unknown quantity." No idea who Marcia is or how she knows Mizpra, it's not been explained yet but has been introduced in a way we’re supposed to know already.

Dr. Bell we finally fucking find out was a friend of her father's and that's why he knows both her and Leigh.

Could have explained that back in chapter five when the character was introduced but, hey, I'm no doctor, what do I know about constructing a coherent story?

Dr. Bell wrote to yell at Mizpra about her being mean to Leigh and his son. Not to Obera, to whom she has been directly mean multiple times so far, just to Leigh and his still unnamed son. The kid's like two years old now and we still haven't been told his name he's that irrelevant to the plot.

Somehow this trips her to decide she needs to just completely ruin Leigh's life because he's an obstacle to her 'designs and ambition' but it's never been explained what those are. It also doesn't explain what she's planning to do just that "she must place him in such a position as to make him helpless in his struggle for his rights. With these thoughts, horrible, fiendish, partly laid schemes arose".

They are never explained.

Maybe she's going to open another school that's just for boys and purposely and repeatedly deny his 2 year old son entrance, I have no idea at this point.

While she's distracted coming up with vague plans, her mother interrupts and says what amounts to, "I'm blind but even I can see you're an old maid."

Harsh.

Her response is to go on about how disgusting marriage is and "what poor, weak, helpless creatures women are! Such a degrading, vile, humiliating acceptance of the loss of personal freedom."

...okay. I guess that's one way of telling your mum to fuck off and that it's not that you CAN'T get married it's that you don't WANT to.

She calls some woman named Jane in to ask her if she...washed the horse yet.

The reply is "yes, mum" which is evidently how Jane pronounces ma'am. She tells Mizpra that she'd be better off hiring a man because mares respond better to men which is not at all how horses work.

Then, we have this exchange:

"No, Jane; what a man can do a woman can do better."

"You do be joking, Miss. How about the babies?"

"There are two many of them now. You should be a woman, Jane."

I was following Mizpra there up until the, "You should be a woman, Jane" bit when Jane has already been described as a woman several times in two paragraphs.

Jane tells her she is a woman and wants to get married and start a family some day, which makes Mizpra angry and somehow the author seems like this is a good time to mention her muscular frame because--that's not a thing women are allowed to have, and to emphasise that Mizpra is not a ‘good woman’, we just occasionally remind everyone how masculine she is.

I know we're meant to dislike Mizpra but, at this point, she's the most sympathetic character here, having to put up with all this nonsense and having the only reasons we're told she's 'bad' is because she has all these masculine traits (from previous chapters, broad shoulders, a deep voice, a square jaw, an 'unwomanly' figure, narrow hips, the author stopped just short of saying, "Yeah, she's basically a man in a dress that tells everyone she's my sister.")

This is page 88 of 403.

Anyway, Mizpra storms off because Jane's, "I want to get married some day" got her that mad, sits down at her desk, and starts reading which is also framed as a bad thing because Good Women don't use their brains for that, what's the matter with you?

Starts talking to herself about how her mom called her an old maid which, I mean, if she's single, not married, and implied to be over 40 that's--sort of what old maid meant. She says, to nobody in particular because she’s the only one in the room, "Well, I think I can show my sisters that I can throw off that appellation and still rule man!"

Now she needs a secretary and a lawyer to always be with her 24/7 and we finally find out that Zora and Marcia are her sisters.

That could have been mentioned much earlier in the story.

What is up with the naming conventions in this family anyway? Every other sibling gets a normal name and the others get names like Zora and Mizpra?

So, what we know now is that Mizpra:

A) Thinks her sister Zora is dumb as hell.

B) Thinks Marcia is whoring around and the way it's written comes off as envious not, "How shameful!" Nothing is stopping you from doing it too, Mizpra.

C) Thinks Leigh is a "clever fool" with a "spewing brat" and a "little, weak, dependent" all of which are entirely fair.

She goes off to arrange visiting Leigh, hoping the trip back East screws with their mother's health enough that she'll gain full power of attorney which is part of whatever evil devious plot she's got going.

Gets up to go to the mirror and get dressed, laments that she "had lost all youthful appearance of womanhood, though still young in years" gets mad at her reflection and throws everything on the vanity at the mirror then goes with, "No, I'll use my intellect, my power over him, not the feminine baubles of Eve."

Over who? Your brother? Please tell me you weren’t considering trying to be sexy for your brother.

She is then described as "short of hair and short of sex" on account simply because her hair is short. Again, the whole, "Hey, hey, have there been enough clues given to tell you that she's just straight up ugly like a man in a dress??" thing.

Even with the, "Hopefully this trip basically almost kills my mother so I can take all of her stuff and cut my brother out of the will" thing she's still the most sympathetic character so far.

Mrs. Newcomber's only real skill aside from being blind and insulting one of her daughters is droning on and on and on about the religious of ancient Egypt.

Then it goes into something that's--nice, actually, though probably wasn't considered a good thing at the time--about how more women should focus on getting an education so they're not stuck being a housewife if that's not what they want to do but, since it's 1901 that's not a thing and it wraps up with how they only think that because "neither knew they the emotions dormant in a woman's breast."

Which are, apparently, to be an uneducated housewife and mother because that’s what the men like.

We’ll just forget the fact that Mrs. Newcomber was married and has had at least four children that have made it to adulthood. That’s not important now. The important thing is she’s being an icky teacher and learning things now. How fucking unladylike.

Mizpra then goes outside, says hello to someone,  like that's it, "Hello, Burke!" and it's framed as a "clumsy attempt at coquetry". What? She--she literally just said hello to someone she knew! That's not how flirting works.

Burke, who is a pale, sickly young man, had evidently told her however long ago the other day was that he loved her and he thought she was mad at him about that.

She tells him she's not mad and explains she was in Denver and his response is to ask her why she's playing with him, she says she's not, he tells her she's being cruel (somehow? maybe because she keeps calling him a silly boy, which is, frankly, rude as hell), and we find out that Burke--as if the name and physical description weren't enough to indicate this--is kind of a social outcast because he's awkward and weird and more than a little bit dim.

But, he overheard some gossip about her and now she's literally shaking him down to make him tell her. Basically, The Men Folk don't like her ideas about women having an education, the public hates it too, and if it were the Middle Ages they'd just burn her at the stake.

Again, Mizpra comes off as the most sympathetic character in the story so far.

Oh, and she apparently doesn't like corsets and made some doctor's daughter, who is a student at her school, remove it at the front of the classroom then kept her standing there while showing all of the other girls the creases a corset puts into the skin which is admittedly entirely inappropriate for a dress code violation.

That's not the problem though, the problem is that Mizpra’s hands were "so cold and rough" that she fainted, and the implied manly hands and fainting are the part everyone is upset about.

Her reasoning for it was that the doctor's daughter, "is suffering from the feminine folly of imitating the male sex in all animal life on the globe--that is, the garnishing of the body to attract the opposite sex."

Again, not how that works; in most species, it's the male that gets all flashy and showy to attract a much drabber female's attention. I do sometimes listen to Lazarus ( @pocketsfullofspiders )  when he's talking about his work.

At the end of all that Burke...asks Mizpra to marry him at specifically 8pm that evening? What?

Okay.

Her response is to ask him if he knows how to use a typewriter. I actually kind of like her at this point, apart from the whole half undressing a teenager in front of the entire class thing.

Anyway, she agrees, because he knows how to use a typewriter so I think she just hired him as her secretary and he agreed to it because I guess his payment is getting to marry her at 8 that evening.

She leaves to go do the getting a marriage license thing and just talks to herself the whole way about how gross Burke is and, ew, he kissed her chin because she didn't get out of the way fast enough, what a fucking creep.

That's going to be a great marriage.

She chose her dressmaker based on the fact that that particular dressmaker's shop offers free cocktails to customers. Fair enough if you're getting fitted for a wedding dress to get married to someone you can't stand.

The reverend that's going to marry them is someone she's got under her thumb; she basically paid to clean up his reputation because he'd ruined it due to just sort of being a drunk, kind of like her brother. Takes him outside and first says she needs to ruin her brother's life.

With alcohol. "[...] and any other scheme you can concoct."

Leigh's weaknesses are, of course, alcohol and evidently women.

She'll pay him a salary to do this and also essentially said if he spends i ton gambling she'll track him down and break every bone in his body.

I'm still not really disliking her.

She then calls him a wind bag and a hypocrite, which he takes as a set of compliments.

He's also mad she's getting married but corrects himself and says it's a miracle; she tells him it's to Burke Wood, and gets, "He can't live six months; and married he won't live six weeks."

HAHAHA! Wives are terrible, am I right?

Her response to that is he definitely will because she's going to take good care of him and 'treat him humanely' which I feel like is the bare minimum required for a marriage, treating someone humanely.

His take on that is, "She is a eunuch in heart and mind! She possesses the soul of a sewer."

And Mizpra becomes an even more sympathetic character.

Some family she knows passed by in a carriage didn't see her so didn't wave to her and now she's also spitefully planning to ruin their lives over being blanked. Settle down, Mizpra.

Goes home, tells mom she thinks they should go see Leigh, mom rightfully points out that Mizpra has spent like two entire years repeatedly explaining why they shouldn't ever do that for any reason and that turns into a debate that the mother eventually loses and is convinced to sign over power of attorney to Mizpra.

She then explains she's getting married that evening then going to Denver the next day and her mother's only concerns about this are of her not--"taking care of Burke on your wedding night". Good priorities.

For some reason she goes off on how she has a fucking job and isn't getting married to turn herself into "a mere setting hen, a female destitute of all ideas save one--that of breeding" which is somehow shocking to her mother.

Mizpra isn't even going to tell Burke she's headed to Denver tomorrow morning until after they're married so he can't back out.

This honestly sounds like a lot of Pureblood marriages now.

Later on we find out that Burke has inexplicably been asking Mizpra to marry him for "some time" now so he's really bad at taking the hint.

So, those two are married now and he has no problems with her going to Denver on business and I'm not sure why the last half of the chapter was spent making it seem like that would be a Big Issue when his response was, more or less, "That's cool, I know how work is."

That's the end of chapter six and this is just so stupidly exhausting that I'm not even going to try to start chapter seven tonight.

Up to page 103 of 403 though!

[lokisgame]

A Case Of You

First date. Excerpt from Aprons And Scrubs. THE SONG

Thank God it wasn't exactly Valentine's. Initially the plan was to take her out on the 14th, but that kiss ruined his plans in the best way possible. He thought about the crowds, the tacky hearts and forced romance and decided it wasn't them. The place he chose was small but had no problem with his last minute reservation and he was confident the food would be great. Mulder debating what to wear, decided to go with fun, with a dark shirt and suit as a backdrop for the vibrant tie. At 6:30 he knocked at her door, a bunch of red carnations in hand. Roses weren't him either, pretty at the florist, dead two days after. Carnations lasted for weeks, if taken care of, a girl in college told him once, and he lived by it. Not Phoebe, damn her blackened soul, she cared nothing for hearts and flowers. Especially not his.

Scully had the rare weekend off. She took the time to get ready glad that a dress was no problem at least. A slim fitting little black dress, she went for simple elegance with only her gold cross and diamond earrings, a gift from her father, after she graduated from med school, chosen as a nod to his memory. Hair pinned up, with a few strands framing her face, she knew that if by any chance... no, too soon to think about that, she scolded herself trying to suppress a smile. It's just dinner, just a night out... With Mulder... who kissed like a god. How did he know what she liked? Most guys fumbled around, missed the spot, too much grabby hands too soon, she hated that. She didn't like to hurry because it was different each time and small steps meant the guy was in for the long haul. And that kiss, how did that happen? The very thought of the slow languid strokes of his tongue in her mouth defeated the purpose of applying blush. Yes, they have kissed before, but it was always sweet and tender, filled with promises. The kiss last night was like a first of those promises being kept, and she kissed him first no less! So far things that started like that ended bad for her, usually because she wanted someone whom she couldn't have, but this was Mulder so she made an effort to believe things will be different this time. She brushed the mascara over her eyelashes, lips slightly parted so her eyelid wouldn't flutter, because her hand did shake with excitement. Excitement and fear, that tonight she might gain a lover of lose a friend. She was fairly certain the chance of the latter were slim, but she tried to plan for the worst as she hoped for the best, even if she had no idea where even begin to look for a plan B. A wool coat and stockings, who said Dana Scully didn't know how to go crazy! The moment she zipped up her high heeled boots she heard a knock.

"Hi," Mulder greeted her, taking in the low square neckline of her dress and the magic thing it did to reveal only hints of what might be the most perfect pair of breasts he's ever seen. "Hi," Scully turned to shut the door and gave him a precious second to gather his jaw off the floor. And he thought she looked gorgeous at the New Year's Eve party. How silly was he. "These are for you," he handed her the flowers and she brought them to her nose, breathing in the subtle fragrance. "They're beautiful, thank you," she said turning and heading for the kitchen to put them in water. Mulder stood corrected, her ass looked even better in that dress, the high heels making her hips sway gently as she walked away. That woman will be the end of him, if she looked this good dressed he didn't dare to imagine show she looked naked. He felt warm instantly and had to unbutton his coat for a moment. She looked back to him and noticed his tie and shirt, managing not to laugh because after all, he was wearing her gift. "Mulder, you look like a high school basketball coach trying to look fun chaperoning the prom." "Heeeyyyy..." he shifted uncomfortably because that kind of hurt his feelings, but only until she stepped around the table and came closer. Standing on her tiptoes she kissed him sweetly and reached to pull the tie from around his neck and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. With the smile her kiss caused him, he once again looked like a picture of confidence framed in casual nonchalance she knew and loved, only more drop-dead handsome, if that was even possible. She folded the tie in half and draped it over the back of the couch. "You'll get it back." Mulder was going to make sure of that, because this was quickly becoming his favorite tie. "Come on," he took her coat, helped her put it on and offered his arm which she took, "the cab is waiting."

The restaurant was small, just a few tables, two waiters and, to her delight, a young man playing piano in the corner of the room, probably son of the owner. The kid had talent and imagination, Scully appreciated that. Somewhere between main course and desert Mulder moved from the chair to the plush seat beside her. He continued to conquer her personal space, his arm on the back of the seat, casually draped around her, as if unaware of the intimacy it projected. Scully herself only realized it, because of the warmth that he brought with him. It felt almost as natural as breathing, to touch him, to be touched, to keep him in. With other men it took months to get here, if it ever did. She felt very relaxed around him, as if all the small touches and kisses they shared before had no other purpose than say "I'm here." "Mulder, what made you open up a bar?" "Hmmm?" Mulder seemed fascinated by the cut of her earring. "I mean, you left the FBI, but you're still a psychologist, why not open a practice, live comfortably doing nothing but listening to congressmen complain about wives and mistresses?" He chuckled. "That's just it, I wasn't that good at listening to other people's problems and fears. A real therapist knows what to do with it, not me. I'd suck up all their angst and sooner or later I would come across some lost soul that would drag me down with him. I can't, I care too much sometimes for it to be healthy. And I was a profiler, I lived for the puzzle, not confessions of others." "But why a bar? Why not grocery store or a book store or heck, go crazy, a hair salon!" Mulder laughed. "Yeah, grocery store seems safest, but can you imagine?" He took up a mock french accent playing with a strand of hair that fell down her cheek. "Oh Miss Scoolly, so good to see you again so soon, what will we do today? It's too early for color, you look marvelous, how do you do it, with more customers like you I'd be out of business, how about a little trim, half an inch from the sides, it will transform your life, I guarantee!" She ducked her head and laughed, a loud belly laugh hat made his night, just like that. "I could see the ladies lining up for three blocks. We need a name for that, let me think," she giggled, "Mulder's Coiffeurs or better Fox's Curls and Tresses." "No, not that," he groaned rolling his eyes, "I hate my first name." "Why? It's so original, and graphic, no wait, I know, you could sell hats! Your store sign would have a pretty girl with a fox's tail falling down her shoulder from the brim of her hat." "Yeah, animal lovers would love that," he snorted. "Oh, right, haven't thought of that," she noticed the line between silly and honest approaching and backed down. "I can't sleep," Mulder's tone indeed turned honest. "It's as simple as that. Insomnia had me staying up all night since I was twelve," with a bit of sadness in his eyes he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and brushed the back of his hand over her sensitive spot, making a shiver run down her spine. She ignored it for now, this was more important. "Before I left the bureau, I spent a year going through old X-files. And most of that time, my day consisted of getting up, going to work, sitting alone in the basement and reading, then going home to an empty apartment, not sleep for hours, insomnia in full swing at that time, eventually crash for maybe two hours, nightmares waiting the moment I closed my eyes." Scully took care to listen and remember every word he said, so he wouldn't have to go through this story again. "Profiling did horrible things to me before that, and I was alone, week in week out. The most significant human interaction I would get, was an occasional night out with the Gunmen and "99 cents" from a dead tired clerk at the kiosk where I bought sunflower seeds every day." She felt bad for asking, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask." "No," Mulder took her hand, squeezing reassuringly, "it's okay, because that was the moment I decided that I needed a change. X-files were going nowhere, and by that time I read enough, that I could fill my own Library Of Congress section on paranormal and unexplained. Cases that landed on FBI's lap reached as far as the 2nd World War, and Roswell. Cold war must have been a real page turner, judging by the number of censored files, and no one was doing anything about it, and no one planed to." He was no longer sad, the fire was back in his eyes. "That was when I realized our government doesn't care about the people, only his own twisted agenda and I couldn't support that. I crossed the the F and the B, and focused on I in the FBI. You know I write for "The Lone Gunman", under a pseudonym naturally, but it's something I could never do if I worked for the bureau. I travel sometimes, talk to people, write down their stories and give them voice, so others would know, that they are not alone, there are people with similar experiences and the fact that I can do something for them, gave me the strength to keep going, to keep looking. For Sam, to know what happened the night she disappeared." Pure conviction in his voice took her breath away. "The truth is out there. And it won't stay hidden in their basements forever." "And the bar?" "It's a way to keep me sane," Mulder chuckled, "to keep that human connection alive and well. That year in the basement, it was bad, to be that disconnected made my mind fester. I realized I needed to be around people, and like you said, there's a bit of a therapist in every bartender," he smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to fill her glass. "I pour drinks, I listen. The difference is that I have a fancy diploma to back it up. 'The Believer' is always open for people with strange stories and memories to share, and besides," he smiled at her broadly, back to here and now from the depths of his past, "I'm not sure I would ever meet you, if I'd still carry a badge." Scully listened, truly amazed. Once again Mulder's story was not what she expected to hear, not on a first date anyway. She had no words to begin describing the feeling his journey evoked in her, so she cupped his cheek and kissed him. This man so remarkable she wouldn't believe he was real. He saw it, too much awe, too much pride. He didn't want it, he knew he never deserved it, so he kissed her back, resting one hand on the curve of her waist, parting her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss for two heartbeats, barely decent, bold enough to kick down that pedestal he saw in her eyes. "Mulder," she had to squeeze in the warning between arousal and want in her tone. If they were at the bar, this thing might escalate pretty quickly. "What? Desert?" He kissed her again, quick, deep and hot, "I think you're right, what would you like." "You," she whispered pressing her lips, chastely this time, to the corner of his mouth. "You've got that," he teased, "but I feel like I need to redeem myself after dumping my past on you, so tell me." she leaned back, her hand back in his while he made due with kissing her knuckles, happy he managed to wake her desire. He wanted her to know and still want him, not worship or admire. "What would you like?" "Ice cream sundae," she said without skipping a beat, "and we share, it's a Valentine's Day date requirement." Two spoons, a ton of chocolate and Scully's giggles saved the moment.

They took a cab back to her place, the night was cold. Mulder got out to help her and she took his hand as her feet touched the pavement. It was a moment of silent agreement, her hand squeezed his, she took a step without letting go, and he knew to pay the driver and let her take him upstairs to her apartment.

Scully's heart pounded in her chest, as she searched for keys in her small purse, Mulder less than an inch behind her. She found it, let them in, and turned to find his warm soft lips. He took her face in his hands, warming her cold cheeks, as she unbuttoned his coat to slip her arms around him. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, as his hands traveled down her shoulders to the buttons on her coat. He helped her slip out of it, tossing it to the back of the couch, then pulled on her scarf. Blue silk freed her perfume, and again he felt dizzy from it, compelled to bury his face in her neck, this time by way of kisses. His coat landed next to hers, mouths searching, missing targets, sloppy but increasingly more fun with each step that brought them farther inside the apartment. He stepped out of his shoes as she peeled of his jacket. Scully bumped into the back of the couch, walking backwards, and he knelled to unzip her boots and pull them off her small feet for her. She looked stunning, as she pulled one pin from her chignon and her hair fell down in soft waves down her shoulders. Without looking away from her eyes, Mulder ran his hands up the back of her calves and stood up, towering over her for the briefest moment, before he picked her off the floor, hands grabbing the backs of her thighs, stockings dear God, the word goddess flashing through his mind. Scully's legs went around his waist, arms around shoulders, she did not fight for fear she'd topple them over, and he carried her through to the bedroom, ignoring her protests, your leg, no need, I can walk, he was def to her concern over him or his health at the moment. He pleaded temporary insanity from her breasts pressed against his chest through silk and satin of their clothes. "Mulder," she breathed into his ear, holding on to him as he reached to push the door open, "condoms, bathroom, medicine cabinet." He didn't stop but walked in and put her down on her feet. He took her hand and without a word slipped it into his pants pocket, smiling as her palm closed around two foil packets and brushed against the erection that was already starting to feel uncomfortable. "Small steps, Scully," he reached around her and found the tab on the zipper of her dress, and started to pull it down slowly, "I wouldn't do this if I wasn't prepared." "I saw your blood work," she explained taking her hand out of his pocket and dropping the condoms on the bed, "and I'm on the pill but..." he shushed her with a soft kiss, hands caressing her bare skin on the way up to her shoulders. "I know, small steps." A kiss to the side of her neck and a brush of his fingers and the dress pooled around her feet with a whisper of satin. Black lace and silk stockings were all she got left and felt like he was definitely overdressed. "You need some help?" Scully reached to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. Soft light filed the room and the sight stunned Mulder into silence. He could do nothing but stare at her skin, body all soft curves and freckles and female perfection standing before him. She reached up and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pulling it from his pants, already bulging impressively. Scully pulled the belt from the loops of his pants and dropped it to the floor, taking a step around to switch places and push him on the bed behind him. "You run around too much, I told you that already." Hovering above him, keeping her tone playful, she slowly unbuttoned his pants to pull them down, mindful of his recent injury. His socks followed suit as she knelt down on the floor between his knees, looking up. He was looking at her, propped up on his elbows, his erection straining his briefs. "Scully, are you sure?" He asked quietly, not concerned, just making sure. "If I wasn't," she replied with confidence, standing up and resting her toes on his knee, "we wouldn't be here." Mulder got rid of his doubts and reached to peel the last of the silk and lace of her body.

Scully laid on the bed, his face inches from hers, watching every change in her expression as he ran two fingers between her thighs, learning what made her tick, following her hand. They fumbled at first and he decided to just let her take the lead. Now she was straining against him, arching her back. He kissed her from time to time, wet sloppy kisses, all soft brushes of languid tongues. He kissed her breasts and nibbled on her nipples, and shoulder and neck, but now he was watching her knead the soft flesh and pinch the hard tip of it and circling around it with her thumbnail. Each moan was like a reward for a well aimed stroke of his hand. He dipped two fingers inside her, her clit swelled as he brushed past it from time to time. He returned there but not too often, she was very responsive to what he did for her. Sometimes her finger joined his, showing him what to do and how, but mostly she just let him explore, take his time. "Like that," she threw her head back and he felt her walls soften under his touch, become pliant, ready for him to join in on the fun. Mulder knew his leg was not yet 100 percent healed, so he brought her as close to the edge as possible without wasting the strength he knew, he would need. She thought he was teasing when his hand moved away, but as his weight shifted and the tip of his cock started to push inside her, she welcomed him into her arms. The sensation was pure and undiluted bliss. "You feel so good," she whispered pulling his lips to hers, her tongue in his mouth as hot as her centre. "I've wanted you since you tossed back that first shot of whiskey at the bar with me," he confessed pulling her knee up and around his hip, shifting so that most of his weight rested on his good side, and started to pump into her, slowly, like he did earlier with his fingers, "you trusted me, I see that now." "I never did that," she panted as he started picking up pace, "let a guy talk me into doing something." She dropped a kiss on his parted lips, "but with you it felt different." her one hand pushed between them and found her clit, the other scratched down his back all the way to his ass, she relished the way his muscles flexed with each thrust. "Like this." Mulder wasn't sure if she was speaking of that night or urging him on, "like what?" "Amazing," she breathed, and he could do nothing else but agree. He felt himself quicken, as she swelled around him. Their lips met and she was whimpering softly with his each thrust, now urgent and hard. "Keep going, like that," her finger moved fast in tight circles, "Mulder, oh God, I'm going to..." She didn't need to finish because just then her body spasmed under and around him. Scully held on, trying to pull him inside her, her free arm now tight around his shoulders, her hand at the nape of his neck, her lips at his ear. "Let go, come for me," and she ran her tongue around his ear, bit his earlobe and he couldn't fight it anymore, he came and fell and she caught him.

It was her turn to watch him, limbs intertwined, bodies sated, sheets pulled warm around them. "What did you do to me?" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, with tenderness she hasn't felt in years. "What do you mean?" "I feel like you just moved in here," he said taking her hand and placing it over his heart, "and started redecorating." "Do I get the attic as well?" Scully chanced a joke, kissing his temple and running fingers through his hair, silky smooth and soft, now that she knew he liked that. "If you don't mind the toys there," he teased back. Self deprecating was his idea of honest when speaking about himself. "Mulder, you are a good man," she told him, kissing his lower lip gently, she knew it and felt it, and that made it as good as true for her. "I'm Spooky Mulder howling at the moon," he countered, a faint sleepy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "No, you care about people, that's noble, you're like a white knight that way" she explained, feeling his midnight stubble with the back of her fingers. "Wait," he looked alarmed for a moment, "not like Don Quixote or something, right?" "What, you want me to stroke your ego some more?" She reached under the covers and found his shaft, running her palm up and down its' length, and circling the head with her thumb. His eyes rolled back as he started to get hard again, she was starting to love how he could not resist her. "That's not where it's at, but it has a direct line." "Shut up Mulder," she straddled his hips and kissed him for real this time.

The next morning Mulder woke up in Scully's bed. In pain. He untangled himself from her small warm body, asleep with her back against his chest, and knowing it was impossible not to wake her, he turned onto his back and groaned. His thigh was killing him. "Mulder?" Her sleepy voice sounded concerned as she turned to face him, "what's wrong?" "My leg," was all he managed to say, the pain was spreading to his hip and lower back. She uncovered his side and saw no bruising or alarming swelling around the freshly healed wound. "You pushed yourself last night," she covered him and started to get up, "I told you not to carry me." "Adrenaline rush Doc, couldn't help it," he joked, but really felt terrible, "where are you going?" "I'll be right back," she kissed his forehead and left him to his suffering. Scully went to the kitchen, tying the robe around her waist and noting in passing the path of clothes they left behind last night. They needed coffee. She opened the fridge, scanning it's contents and finding it satisfactory, took out the coffee and started a fresh pot. "Take this." She came back handing Mulder one pill and a glass of water, and noticing his hesitation clarified, "it's Tylenol 3," then pulled the covers back off his leg and covered it with a bag of frozen peas. "Bad news, you're not going anywhere today." Mulder looked at her and barked out a strained laugh. "And how is that bad news?" His reaction shook her out of her doctor persona and she realized what she just said. "Right," she laughed and leaned over to kiss his smiling lips, "happy Valentine's Day Mulder."

[haematophiliac-a]

The voices and the medication

Jax was eight when he heard the first voice. A soft, calming voice that told him everything was fine, would be fine, and that studying was a great way to improve his life. He didn’t really have friends and found himself alone in his room most of the time as his parents were very strict and told him to study until he dropped pretty much. He wasn’t so social so didn’t make ‘friends’, merely chatted to whoever approached him at school all in all. Didn’t care to befriend people and whatnot, just... got along in life with his studies as he was told to. He was more into reading and studying as per forced by his parents and while he did enjoy reading, learning more about human anatomy, biology etc, he did find himself feeling lonely while sat in his room. He had to attend after school activities to advance his learning but other wise he never had a social life, just forced to sit and learn more and more until he would be the best of the best.

The first voice was an adult’s voice seemingly without a gender that told him to behave and study, that life would get better, that he would be fine and happy eventually if he studied more. Get a good job. All that. He would be a successful adult and thrive. It gave him hope that he would feel happier later in life and he did strive to excel in learning while this voice helped him along.

Over the years more voices appeared until there were four in total, all talking in unison or one after the other. They were generally positive and supportive and just kept him ‘sane’, so he thought.

It wasn’t noted but psychosis / schizophrenia ran in the family and he had taken after his father in this aspect, plus the loneliness playing on his mind, as well as discovering video games and believing life is a game, all taking is toll on his mental health. It wasn’t severe mind you, something he could cope with.

He lived day to day while listening to the voices. They weren’t evil. Instead they were pleasant and kept him company, though he never spoke back in fear of people finding out and taking away the ‘nice people in his head’. He hadn’t learned about mental health. Such was a taboo subject and his father wasn’t on meds nor ever willing to talk about his issues, and his mother just brushed it under the carpet, so mental health was a big no-no. He had learned in passing about negativity in mental health but nothing that described what he was going through, so was afraid he was different and ‘bad’, afraid someone would take away his only support.

Age sixteen he slept with a girl who had liked him since he joined High school. The voices had told him that it was fine to enjoy himself and that he should indulge for once. And he did. But then they turned sour and told him to avoid the girl forever, so he did. He never knew why they wanted him to avoid her and he didn’t care. He didn’t care for her much and found it easier to just avoid her after their awkward one night stand. 

At age seventeen he found a dead Poliwag and, with his interests in human and pokemon biology he found himself trying to dissect it, fascinated by the insides, the blood and whatnot. But he was discovered by an adult and taken to his parents, to who forced him to see a psychiatrist in fear of their son ‘going crazy’.

He heard the word ‘crazy’ enough over the next few months of talking to this psychiatrist that he started to despise the word utterly and truly. They didn’t mean it in a bad way, just reassured him he wasn’t ‘crazy’. They found best to put him on medication for psychosis after diagnosing him with such condition; he admitted he didn’t care for life, that it was an illusion, game or simulation. It had taken three months for him to admit it and he regretted ever mentioning it.

At first he was reluctant to take the meds but eventually caved from lots of persuasion and his mother collapsing at his feet and begging him to ‘not turn out like his father’. 

The meds made him feel numb and like a zombie, and he found the voices eventually left him, as well as his emotions.

The meds worked well enough to make him seem normal, though he still believed life wasn’t real. Even so, he was able to get a degree in science and start a life when he was eighteen, leaving home in distaste at how his parents had brought him up; he started to socialize a little and realized his parents hadn’t ever let him be social, so he started to hate them for it, up and left home and didn’t say where he went.

So from age seventeen until thirty-two he was medicated. Doses upped and reduced to suit his mind at the time. He got a general therapist around age twenty-five who also helped him with general life, helped him talk to people more and become more social, though deep down he didn’t care for anybody due to the medication making him numb, and all he wanted was to control others and sleep with them on one night stands. He found himself unable to commit to anybody and did begin to despise the idea of emotions after watching several people become upset that he wouldn’t ‘like’ them or see them again. So he decided emotions were bad and something to be repelled. 

Now, having come off the meds, the voices are back and angry that they were ever forced away, even a new voice appearing that is only angry and seems to direct the others in their hatred. He also has started to believe the meds were a way of being controlled. But who by or why is still unknown to him, but the voices seem to agree that medication is bad and was only to control him... for obvious reasons of not wanting to be hidden away again. He is also unable to cope with emotions as it’s been so long without them, only ever feeling the bare twinges of something that could’ve been. Now he’s feeling everything and doesn’t know what to do to stop it other than take drugs and drink alcohol. The voices don’t help at all by trying to control him, but they’re so smooth, so impacted into his mind that he believes their every word, remembering them from when he was young, that they ‘love him’. So he feels lost.

[ardentmuse]

Hello, may I request a male ship for HP, Marvel & Kingsman (if that's alright to ask for all three), please & thank you. I hope the length is alright, if not send me a message in the chat box and let me know. I’m putting it in a link to the tumblr blog with my personality description, I hope it works . LINK - The first part is shortintrovertships(.) tumblr(.) (com) (without the parentheses). Take as much time as you need, I know I asked for a lot, so I don’t mind being patient & waiting.

Hi Dear! Thanks for the super-thorough self-summary! You basically get a love story for all different stage of your life (teens, early 20s, late 20s) so we’re living some fun fantasies today :)

Lover: Peter Parker

Best Friend: Michelle (MJ)

Place of Origin: Earth, Bronx USA

Occupation: Student, Bio-med interests

Partner / Team Affiliation: Peter and Tony (and Avengers by proxy)

Powers / Abilities: N/A, just a lovely human

Equipment: Do books count?

Hobby: Video games

Peter was incredibly nervous to start another school year, specifically he was quite nervous about keeping his Spidey secret and balancing classwork with his new responsibilities. The only thing keeping him sane was that he was going to be in most of his classes with Ned and he was taking a new bio-med elective that had keep quite excited.

But when Peter arrived at the course, he was surprised to see so few faces he knew. Ned hadn’t signed up, but he had expected at least Michelle to take it. But as he looked around the room, he felt rather alone. The only open seat was sharing a lab table with you, a new transfer student coming in from a magnet school in the Bronx.

Peter took the seat and introduced himself, albeit quite awkwardly. He muttered a little under his breath at how strange he was behaving, but he couldn’t help it. You were clearly smart and quite attractive. He watched as you pulled out a variety of colored pens, each of which you organized at the top of your desk, and a lab notebook with tabs ready to go. Your level of precision and detail let him know you were going to be the perfect study partner.

Pretty soon, you were spending quite a bit of time in the library working together. For months, you were just studious work partners, pleasant and amiable but nothing more. Honestly, Peter liked being able to just be himself without any pressure to put on a cool facade for you. But one day, he had mentioned a video game he was currently playing that was only tangentially related to the problem you were working through. You immediately lit up and began rambling about your love of the game. Peter felt the warmth of your smile seep into his veins. Your passion was contagious. He invited you over to play with him, which you accepted. And Peter knew then that he had stepped in a sinkhole. A curious, friendly, excitable, easy-to-be-around attractive girl who shared his love of video games? How he hadn’t seen you as his dream girl before that moment seemed ridiculous now, but his crush hit him full and hard from that moment onward.

Aunt May was all over you when you arrived for your “date”. She was so excited to see Peter have a new friend, especially a female one. She made you dinner, asked a lot of questions about your family, another topic that had you passionate and smiling, and as a result had Peter blushing, your spirit having that sort of impact on him. May saw and made herself scarce so Peter wouldn’t be embarrassed.

As you played in his room, you were laughing and teasing each other. Peter was trying his best to be flirty but you were not processing it. Together, you were able to conquer the big boss that Peter had been struggling with for week. He lifted you up and spun you around in celebrating. And when he set you back down, you couldn’t pull your gaze from each other. With a hand on your cheek, he leaned down and kissed you. It was a quick peck, and Peter was a blushing, foolish mess afterwards and you were too. Both so embarrassed, you decided to watch a movie to keep from having to look at each other. Instead, Peter set you between his legs, your head leaning back against his chest as he reclined on his bed. You both fell asleep long before the second act of the movie. And when May came in to ask if you needed an escort home, she let you sleep, leaving the door open and calling your parents so they wouldn’t worry.

When Peter awoke with you still in his arms, he was the happiest he’d ever been. He watched you in your sleep with a smile on his face. And when you awoke, he immediately asked if you’d be his girlfriend.

Dating Peter was always enjoyable. He was a source of excitement, was incredibly supportive emotionally, and was the king of compliments. You’ve never felt more loved than you have as Peter’s girlfriend. You learned about Spider-Man on accident. Aunt May had invited you over for dinner as a surprise for Peter’s birthday, and you had been waiting in his room for him to come home when he snuck into the window clad in his suit. He had been nervous as to how you would respond, but you were honestly just so proud that he would sacrifice himself for the good for others. And so Spidey dates also became a thing, him swinging you around the city to rooftops with the best views. And May and Tony loved more than anything how much you encouraged Peter to be his best and try his hardest in all things.

Lover: Sirius Black

Best Friend: Molly Weasley

House: Hufflepuff

Family: McKinnon

Favorite Subject: Charms

Clubs / Accolades: Order of the Phoenix

Job: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts at MoM

Patronus: Hippopotamus

Sirius Black had always been a creature of great mystery to you. You had been a first year when he was a seventh and never knew each other. And then he went off to Azkaban and the reputation took hold. He was the biggest criminal in the wizarding world and you honestly avoided thinking about him and all the harm he caused. Your entire family had been murdered by death eaters so of course you avoided thinking upon the subject.

When you finished your years at Hogwarts, you joined the Ministry of Magic Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. Arthur Weasley was your boss and mentor. And given that you had lost much of your family during the war, he often invited you to dinner at his house among his wife and children. They didn’t have much but they were always hospitable and generous. You quickly grew to love them all, bringing over a side dish every Sunday as you crashed their family get together and often babysitting the little ones.

When the war broke out in earnest, you immediately joined the efforts of the Order of the Phoenix. You were not about to let any family get torn apart the way yours had been. And that was how you met Sirius Black. At first you had been scared, given his reputation, but meeting Sirius Black was much different than you expected. You had arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place with Ginny, bringing in the latest groceries as Molly prepares a meal for that night’s meeting. And who was standing at the door to greet you but a handsome man with shaggy black hair and piercing grey eyes, a little gaunt but still strong and commanding in stature. He was striking in a much better way than you thought. He took a bag from each of you and showed you the home. He was chipper and gregarious, kind and thoughtful. You found yourself easily forgetting the reputation and simply enjoying the man for whom he was.

Many meetings allowed you to get to know each other and you became cordial acquaintances. A few times you awoke on a couch in the living room with a blanket you hadn’t had on you when you fell asleep or a cup of tea warm and waiting. You knew it was Sirius’s doing, but he never said a word.

You developed romantic feelings for the man the first time you saw him interact with Harry. He was clearly a good father figure to the boy, so gentle and honest, determined to do right by him. He was to Harry what you were to Ginny, the non-parent parent, the trustworthy, honest, reliable adult companion. Sirius was a gentle, sweet, understanding man under his highly cultivated exterior.

You had taken down Bellatrix during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, saving Sirius’s life, he knew. That night as you helped him heal his wounds, he told you how much he admired you and how scared he had been of losing you. The honesty was so refreshing, and you somehow found yourself in his arms, clinging to each other and crying for the all the loss you were sure was able to come.

And thus your relationship began. It was hard dating amidst the war, but you found comfort in each other. Long nights spent talking kept you both sane and missions were taken together, both of you fighting hard to protect the other. You married just before things got really bad, the Weasleys, Remus, and Tonks in attendance. And when you fell pregnant, Sirius sent you away, determined to keep you and his child safe as long as he could. You already had a target on your back and a baby would only make it worse. And when you learned of the fate of the Lupins, you were secretly glad for the few months along.

A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, you returned to England and gave birth to a son, whom Sirius asked rather sheepishly if he could be named Remus. In the years following, Remus gained a few siblings, all of whom Harry treated like his brothers and sisters. Molly was incredibly excited to provide all the parenting advice she could, a new brood of Blacks who supported the rights of muggle-borns to begin to repair the poor reputation generations before had cultivated.

Lover: Harry Hart

Best Friend: Merlin

Mentor: Arthur

Code Name: Vivien

Specialty: Onboarding

Dog: Dachshund

What you did before Kingsman Statesman: Translator

Vacation / Honeymoon: Singapore and other foodie destinations

When Harry Hart joined Kingsman, you had the privilege of leading his on-boarding. Your primary work with Kingsman was training and recruitment, and so every new agent that came through the door spent a few weeks with you, learning the ropes, meeting the teams, receiving their initial assignments. Harry had been just another part of your job, albeit a nice one, but nothing more. Pretty soon he was out in the field and you were back at your desk job, nothing different in your life other than the occasional smile from the attractive man as he walked by your office to go about his meetings.

That was until a particular mission required someone who could speak Japanese colloquially. Harry was the primary on the mission, coming in as a British investor in hopes of doing business with the target. But he needed a translator to come with him, particularly one that could hold their own in the field. Arthur had practically begged you to go and you hesitantly agreed. The field was not your favorite, but you understood when your skills were necessary.

For the two weeks, Harry spent every evening at your desk, working with you to prep for the mission. He was kind and generous, always bringing you a coffee or tea so you could keep your focus, consistently answering your questions and including you in all his important decision making. He treated you like a partner, a true partner, and you found yourself eager to go out into the field for the first time since your recruitment.

During the initial meeting, the target was a little too forward with you, handsy and flirtatious, making you incredibly uncomfortable. Harry was quick to react, pulling you to him and kissing your forehead, asking the man if he would kindly stop hitting on his wife. And thus all your plans were out the window and the next week you would have to spend posing as happy and in love. But honestly, it wasn’t that hard. Holding Harry’s hand, sitting a little closer, sharing hushed whispers and gentle kisses, it all seemed so natural after the past few weeks you had spent working late into the night. Come day five, you were unsure of what the two of you were actually faking.

When you returned to headquarters, you had no reason to interact anymore. A week went by without you seeing each other. But soon your boss informed you that Harry had requested that he have involvement in the next recruitment round. And the following day, Harry showed up at your desk after lunch, a drink for you in hand, and you began working again late into the night. A few days before recruits were to arrive, Harry kissed you as you worked together to prep their sleeping quarters and after the recruitment round was complete, he took you to his favorite restaurant in his hometown, the next night to see your favorite play, then his favorite gardens, and on and on it went until you married on the grounds of the Kingsman estate.

Field work became more difficult when you decided to start a family but Harry enjoyed being a father more than anything in the world. And your children were insanely well-traveled and cultured, Harry often inviting you out to whatever destination he was in once the dangerous work was over.

[holydanced]

     *      —     so this did NOT take long at all  ,  wow  ….. but anyways  ,  hello m’loves im alex  &  i’m on my current bullshit of prolonged - everything and wack intros  !!  i’m 21  ,  my pronouns r she / her  ,  from the incredible tz that is gmt and but have zero  (  0  ) concept of time clearly   &  i like watching tasty vids knowing damn well i’m never making a single dish and other stuff it’s 2 late for me 2 rmbr and list but welcome to my step daughter  ,  shmoke itch queue !! under the read more is 1 / 2 of the intro posts i plan on posting this week with a good batch of my shunts  .  can’t wait 2 get back to ya’ll on plots and connections and hmu if a muse peeks ur unfortunate interest !!

*   SOUTHERN HELL   /   AMANDA WHEELER  :   queen of irony. rich faux post-country gal. a loud homosexual who writes hetero fics/has an indie het smut for the absolute shits and giggles. madly in love with her girlfriend and WILL remind you just in case you forgot. said to be possessed by a possessed flapper. cute and knows it even though she looks like a republican. socially open & everywhere. morally grey.

*   VEGAN OVERLORD   /   IMOGEN YATES  :   the grey area between your mom friend and your drunk aunt. happily vegan & owns a vegan restaurant called the fork, alt. the local vegan cult’s lair. won’t kill you, but will convince you she really wants to. local brat tamer. minds her business via minding others. clashed head-first into nature’s very own reset button: amnesia. used to be the devil herself and traumatized everyone she once knew. disgustingly active and accomplishing. 

*   WALMART AVRIL LAVIGNE   /   PRUDENCE ZIMA  :   parents died in a fire when she was a youngin and it shows. idolizes avril lavigne & her favorite movie is lords of dogtown for aesthetics references. dude. social leech or effortless networker ? both. remains in her lane regardless. cries over dick biweekly. here for a good time, not a long time. steals your stash and smokes you out with it. avid dick connoisseur. loves her pet python to death. minimum effort lifestyle. either on her way to become a manager of some one hit wonder band that finds it’s demise in a crashing plane, a drug dealer or god forbid, a guidance counselor. mild gone girl type cool girl syndrome. 

*   SATAN  ,  BUT IN FRENCH   /   ABEL GAUTIER  :   french and “confused”. lives a minimalist n’ expensive lifestyle. if american psycho & french kiss were the same movie. wine sniffer. the devil bakes croissants. will watch you die. takes grudges to the afterlife. gets attached but either ruins it or ruins it to spare everyone, himself included. falls in love a lot but knows how to calm the fuck down. well-suppressed murderous tendencies. very giving, fortunately. manipulative but isn’t too wild about bending everything to his will. 

*   ROSES IN THE TRASH DOT PNG   /   SIMINI GALE  :   [ britney vc ] its me…. against dissociation. token white actress & character in rosie’s show. a loud mess with an intense mental state and anger issues dulled out by her prescribed meds and whatever pill she got in the bottom of her manager’s purse. overly dependent and is distraught about it. grocery shopping for garbage food and attending comedy stand ups half drunk as a hobby. stable ? don’t know her. very nice and super flighty. heels are hot. wishes she could fight someone without feeling the urge to actually fight someone. crying probably.

*   HAPPY MACHINE BROKE   /   CALVIN O’SHEA  :   it’s not just the depression more than the incredible self hatred. walks into rooms with his bad energy  &  cunty attitude. graduated college just to shut his dad up. wants to die harder than edward cullen. just doesn’t give a shit. has a baby named FREDDIE MERCURY JOHN LENNON BAUMANN ( also known as the antichrist, with alanis, his mortal literal enemy whom he absolutely despises and will NOT hesitate to put his dick back in again ) . wishes he could die.

*   DIVORCED DADS ARE HOT   /   KELLY SCOTT  :   a father who tries™. runs a chop shop because bad decisions and dire needs ( had his son to send to school and his daughter who passed away due to a condition he couldn’t afford to treat even after turning his mechanic shop into a chop shop. his wife then left him ) .stares into the distance. needs to pull out of this dull n’ depressing daily routine he has fallen into like the basic ass divorced dad he is.

*   SLAVGOTH    /   SEBASTIAN MILLER  :   kazimer sokolov whom. russian ex-cult member well-adjusted into a mundane life via lies, a fake canadian accent he’s ‘trying to get rid of’ and being a twilight saga aficionado & a certified dick. runs his lame record store and a tumblr blog to keep himself sane by maintaining a general aesthetic & shitting on people and every discourse out there. knives/books sniffer. allegedly fucked a moose. probably kinkshames as a way to deal with his own “kinks”. you thought it’s one fake bitch in this house but it’s quite literally two.

*   UNCLE SAL WITH THE FACTS    /   SALVATORE PRESLEY  :   a hitman who doesn’t know how to retire. talks. a great father and boyfriend in a long, long, long term relationship. gets shit done which is both a good thing and a bad thing. don’t call him salvatore, don’t call him anything. knows how to mix drinks and other things. obsessive; gets into his job a little too intensely and it shows. loses sleep at least two nights a week as a habit at this point. family-oriented; has an extended family back home he misses occasionally. wishes he could calm down truly.

*   UH HUH ,  THIS MY SHIT ! ALL THE GOTHS STOMP YOUR FEET LIKE THIS !  /   FRED MARLON  :   not-so-local - perky goth -  skater boi. bisexuals wear multiple rings. was a cheerleader and won’t stop spelling shit & chanting since then. advocates for getting your guts stirred safe sex. lucid dreams. criminology major but associates with film majors for some reason. was the employee of the month everywhere he worked. remembers his time in bed, bath and beyond fondly. went to psycho camp when he was twelve. a motherfucking sweedie. actual foot fetish apologist.

*   [ POINTS AT EMPTY CORNER ] AND HERE’S MY GREAT GRANDFATHER, ARMITAGE   /   MARSHA HUNT  :   obsessing over the victorian (gothic) era & death. obsessive, period. interesting family lineage. believes the manor she inherited is haunted (mainly because deaths happened there and up until a certain period in its history, they had their own graveyard within the estate). believes a lot of things that don’t make sense but bear with her. crackhead tendencies. talking is a full body experience. demands your full attention or none of it. allergic to but likes flowers. witchcraft? she’s listening. romantic in the worst way. will teach you how to dance. not entirely here at all. writer_in_the_dark.mp3. heightened senses. rich and doesn’t know what to do with the money. doesn’t trust first impressions. the drunk aunt and the weird cousin. 

*   ( PRETTY ) DAFT BOY  /   JACK LOWELL  :  jackary. handsome_the_vaccines.mp3. vaguely ‘poetic’ instagram captions & private social media accounts made for his mental breakdowns. currently on a “break” from college. lashes out over air. a current equipment bitch to the band he got kicked out of. manipulative and morally on the fence of neutral and his father’s son. isn’t sure if he enabled his sister’s murderous nature on purpose or not. will crash at your place and finish your cereal but still make you breakfast and a cool tune in the morning like the soft, self-absorbed cunt he is. self destructs over one ( 1 ) girl and hangs out with many.

*   THE REASON WHY YOUR CAR RIDES GO THE FUCK OFF  /   NAZARETH NIEVES  :  pouty lesbian. music producer tormenting her record label by being a brat. chronically bored and disgusted. pulls a rihanna and makes close friends off the industry. will bite heads off. selectively decent. is unable to enjoy music from the same genre she produces for. power bottom. brutally killed her dead best friend’s father, hid his body and picked up his youngest daughter from school and took her in her family home; the line of murders in their unsuspecting city ceased conveniently. likes the smell of nail polish.

[showsandbandsimagines]

Selfish (Jughead Jones)

I stood in front of my mirror, the countless bottles of pills scattered on my vanity. I rolled my eyes, and pushed them towards the back of the little table, not wanting to look at them. I pulled on a robe, tying it around my waist, then scrubbed off my make-up with wipes, that I threw carelessly into the waste bin I had on the floor. I analyzed the dark circles under my eyes, noticing that they were only getting darker, signaling that I haven’t been sleeping as much as I should.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

An incessant tapping disturbed me from my thoughts, as I quickly turned around, finding the source of the noise, which happens to be coming from a boy outside my window. I rolled my eyes, as I slid the window open, motioning for the boy to come in.

“How do you deal with it?” Jughead asked, immediately, once I shut the window behind him.

“Deal with what?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, staring down my best friend.

“The serpents! The violence?” he asked, coming closer towards me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, squeezing tightly, causing me to wince.

“Can you not?” I asked, pushing his hands off of me, not wanting to be too close to the man who I have had feelings for years. Especially when he has a girlfriend.

I turned away from him, before I turned on the light, then turned back around. He gasped when he saw the dark circles under my eyes, and the red blotches over my skin. “I don’t deal with it, Juggie.” I said, then moved over to my vanity, grabbing the pill bottles. “Xanax for the panic attacks, Lexapro for the depression, Adderall to keep me focused during the day, and Restoril to help me fall asleep.” I told him, before I slammed the bottles back down on the table.

“Then why do you stay with them?” he asked, looking distressed.

“Because no one else is helping me find out who killed my mother!” I said, frustrated.

“I didn’t know…” he said, cutting himself off, before he caught my arm, and pulled me into him, hugging me tightly, as if he could protect me from my demons. “You seem okay.” He whispered.

“But I’m not.” I said, softly. I pulled back, and wiped my eyes quickly. “Why? Why are you asking?” I said to him.

“Because I asked the serpents for help for something, and they come to my trailer, with some guy beaten up and tied to a chair.” He said, sounding distressed.

“Juggie, relax. They do that so you can see they are upholding their side of the deal. They don’t like to be indebted to anyone. Including people involved. They are trying to keep you happy, since you are FP’s son.” I informed him.

“But how do you pretend that everything is okay?” he asked.

“It’s the meds.” I told him honestly. I motioned for him to sit down, and once he did, I uncrossed my arms, and tried to relax my position. “Enough about me, Juggie, what else is bothering you?” I asked him, sternly, knowing that something else is troubling him.

“It’s Betty.” He said, sighing. He ran his hands over his face, before pushing his beanie off of his head in frustration.

“Tell me. What’s going on?” I asked him. He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head.

“I know how you feel about me, Morgan. I don’t want to make this difficult for you.” He said sadly.

“Jughead Jones. I don’t care. You are obviously struggling and you are my best friend. I don’t give a damn about my feelings. I want to help you.” I told him sternly. He sighed, and looked up at the ceiling, as if he was gathering strength.

“She’s great and all, she just doesn’t understand me at all. Not like you do. I’m doing all of this to be closer to my father, and she says she understands, but I can see it in her face that she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand.” Jughead said, clearly frustrated.

“Hey, hey, now. No. Betty is nice, I’m sure she understands, she cares about you. I think she’s just worried about you. Finding out what the Serpents are capable of, it must have her extremely cautious.” I told him, trying to reassure him, even though my heart was yearning for him instead.

“No, she doesn’t understand. At all. I am completely different than her. She is innocent, and pure, and I’m me who has had to struggle for everything. Her family sucks, but they at least care for her. Me? I’m stuck living in my dad’s trailer, but it’s where I chose to be, but Betty interrogated me about not staying with my foster parents. She’s pushing her wants onto me, and I just can’t take it!” he said, distressed.

“Juggie? What do you want me to do? I’m not a miracle worker. I can’t tell you how you feel for Betty, or how you feel with this situation, but I can tell you how I deal with it. I surround myself with people who aren’t good, that way I don’t feel out of place, and it hurts, because I know I’m all alone. My father is some dead beat dad, somewhere in Michigan, and my mom is dead. I live alone in this house, with social workers periodically checking in, and that’s the only time my uncle comes to town, so he doesn’t get charged with child neglect. I choke down pills to keep me sane and functioning, so I don’t repeat everything I have seen in my head on a never ending loop. I’m not perfect, Jughead, I am far from perfect. You asked me how I deal with it, and the truth is, I don’t. It’s all an act, and on the inside I’m miserable, but you want to know something? I am not going to let you feel miserable, even if it hurts me to see you with Betty, but she makes you happy, don’t run away from it, just because you’re scared. Don’t make yourself miserable. Don’t turn out like me.” I told him, coming close to him, kneeling down on the floor.

“How can you be so unselfish? You’re over there dying on the inside, tearing out your own heart, trying to help me, but have you ever thought about being selfish?” he said, standing up furiously, pacing back in forth in front of me, causing me to jump back in fright, causing me to land on my ass, with my back pressed against the end of my bed.

“Jughead, what are you even talking about?” I asked him.

“I’m trying to say that you should be a little selfish sometimes. You shouldn’t be miserable! Make a move, make yourself happy for once, instead of pretending that everything is alright, when clearly its not. Just stop pretending.” He said in a distraught voice, pulling me up to my feet, and before I could even question what was happening, his lips were pressed firmly on my own, and before I got too sucked into the kiss, I pushed him back.

“Jughead, no, you’re with Betty, you’re just confused.” I told him, trying to turn my head away, but with his hands cupping my cheeks, that was almost impossible.

“You are the truest, most pure person. Even with the hell you’ve seen, you still have morals, you’re fighting your feelings, but just stop. Be selfish. I’m tired of pretending, too. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t have feelings for you, Morgan, even if I am with Betty. So be a little selfish with me.” He said, before crashing his lips down on mine, and this time I didn’t fight the feelings that stirred in my chest. This time I succumbed to my selfish desires.

[taurus-annie-main]

A Ride to Nirvana

Genre : Angst / character death / mentions of violence / trigger warning summary : Rule one of working in a loan shark, don't feel for the debtor and their family. You'd never broke the rule and he wasn't about to make you.

In your hand you held an envelope. Inside, a ticket for one to Wistbury and three notes.

For some people, life is easy. It's a fun ride just like the ones in the fair, not that you ever been on one, but you could assume. For some of us, life isn't so easy, it damn near cruel and undeserving.

"What makes you think you're different?" you asked, voice hard and tired as you stared at the guy before you.

He, the latest person in the world to be duped and betrayed, stared back, eyes wide. You swore you could see the innocence shattering behind his eyes shattering with every second he was silent. He looked to the ground as though ashamed of himself and his grandiose thoughts.

"He'll be back," he said, voice betraying his choice of words.

He probably knew, but what boy didn't look up to their father and believe all would be well when dear father came back? Foolish children, that's who. See that's the thing about some men, they wouldn't mind leaving their kin to fend for themselves. It's just how they are, selfish.

"When?" You sighed, pen tapping against the wooden table you were both sat around. The monotonous beat played over the tense silence."You said he'd be back last month."

"I said he'll be back," he said. "He's on his way. He won't have all the money, but he'll pay some of it off," He took a deep breath. "He promised."

Sometimes it was easier deluding yourself, that's probably how he managed to keep sane, you thought. But when was it too much?

"When does he come back? I want a specific date," you said, stirring your spoon into the untouched tea. "I have just as much pressure as you do. We can't keep playing this game of cat and mouse."

He looked up then, eyes narrowed at you. "You have as much pressure as I do?" he spat the words out.

Your stomach burned with guilt but you quickly squelched those poisonous  feelings. Rule one of working in a loan shark, don't feel for the debtor and their family. You'd never broke the rule and he wasn't about to make you. Baekhyun, the son of scheming bastard was like all the rest. You had to get the money, debts should be paid. Was it that hard for people to wrap their hands around?

You gave him a toothless  smile. "Yes. Yes I do." you blinked at him, just willing for him to burst, something other wallowing would’ve made you feel better. "This is my job, and the money your father took our money, therefore I have the obligation to take it back."

"You're disgusting, you know that?" he said, gripping his cup of tea tight. "All of you. Lowest of the low."

You'd be machine if you said his words didn't sting. But then again, you'd heard it all before. You'd had spit on your shirt, a shoe to your head and a drink to your face. Money always brought out the worst in people.

"Think of me what you want, but the matter still stands. Your father is gone and we need our money," you said. "I don't want nothing bad to happen to you, but you know what happens right?"

Whatever fury he’d had died down and was replaced with fear. He knew what happened. Everyone did. You were thankful you hadn't witnessed it, yet. Dale had mentioned it before, he’d told you last year and still you couldn't erase the memory of his eyes clouding over as he recounted the memory.  He'd spoke in a slow drawl as he recounted the last cries of help and despair as the gas was funneled into their system, lulling them into their final sleep. That was the last time you asked him what it was like working in the underground sector.

You stood up. "Thank you for tea. I'll be back next week and that's all I'm giving you."

He didn't get the chance to plead as you were already out the door. The sun was beginning to settle and you needed to be back to the shabby building they called the office. You'd tell them you didn't get the money, again, and Dale would offer to deal with it. You'd shake your head, Baekhyun deserved at least some resemblance of chance.

You stepped into the brightly lit shop, feet making an immediate beeline for the drinks as your face stayed glued to your phone. You picked up the nearest bottle, the name you couldn't pronounce but it was cheap and it'd do the job. You walked to the counter, you finally tore your face from your phone. You nearly stilled in your steps as you saw the familiar face slowly coming into focus. He had recognized you too, you could see it in the way his skin paled and his chest moved high.

"Y-you said a week," he said, swallowing. "It's been three days."

You placed your drink on the counter and slipped a pack of crisps beside it. "I'm just here to buy. Don't get so shaken up."

He nodded and hesitantly took the items, scanning them one by one in muted silence.

"Since I'm here, i might as well ask. How's it going with your father?"

"Do you want a bag?" he cut in, releasing a heavy sigh.

"No thanks," you slipped a note over the counter and watched him process it into the machine. "You didn't answer my question."

He shoved the items to you and handed you a receipt. "Thank you for shopping with us."

"Let me guess, he's not texted you back and your messages haven't been going in," you said, taking the items.

"Is this fun?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No. There's no point in dragging this thing out if he's not coming back," you leant close, you held gaze with him until you backed down, you could feel it bubbling inside you, the dangerous taste of empathy.

"I don't nearly say this to people-" You stopped, mulling over the words that would soon come out. Ever since you'd left his apartment, your thoughts had been filled with him and his penultimate end. You didn't want him to be another body burning under the harsh lights of the operating room. He was young, probably a person with dreams unlike you. "But, you should go away."

He stared at you face flashing with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Take a train, bus or plane out of here."

He shook his head. "I can't. My father's coming back soon and I have college- why are you even telling me this?"

You shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of your hoodie. "It's a suggestion. Don't waste your life waiting for someone who won't be back."

"He will," he said. "I can't just up and go."

You heard the bell ding. Time to go you thought as you gathered the items into your hands. "Suit yourself."

Crazy, you'd become crazy. That had to be it. You'd gone insane,and possibly beyond help. Two nights had passed since your last encounter and you'd found yourself walking towards the shop, pathway lit by the pale moonlight and orange glow of the streetlights.

In your hand you held an envelope. Inside, a ticket for one to Wistbury  and three notes. You printed out the ticket in haste as paranoia gnawed at your every being. At any moment, Dale could've walked in and he wasn't stupid. He'd know you were up to no good and as much of a friend you thought he was, he'd never waste time in snitching. If you were caught, you'd be the one under operating lights.

He wasn't the one of the counter and you had the right mind to turn away right there and then. The last strip of good inside you told you otherwise. And so, you walked up the girl flicking through a magazine.

"How can I help you?" she asked, her voice a bored drawl as she placed her magazine face down.

"Can you give this Baekhyun," you said, passing her the envelope. "It's really important that he gets it."

She sighed as she took the envelope. "Sure."

"Thank you," you said.

You don't know what you would've said or done if Baekhyun had been the one behind the counter. He wasn't a guy who loomed over people and sparked fear in his wake, but there would've been something unsettling about being in front of him as you handed him the ticket. He'd probably think you were crazy as well.

You shook away all thoughts of him as you opened the door to your own apartment.

You'd come into the dingy office early today, a checkbook in your small bag. You'd get a cup of coffee first, something to lighten you up and as you drank the bitter drink you'd rehearse your look of surpise when you walked into Baekhyun's empty apartment. You hadn't been back to the convenience store, fear you suppose. But you'd hope he'd be somewhere in Redding, his train would've arrived late into last night.

"You're going to the Rail residence today," Dale said as he walked into the kitchen.

You scrunched your face up. "No, I'm going to the Byun's. It's the deadline."

"Not anymore it's not," he said, placing a paper cup under the machine.

You placed your cup down and braced against the counter. "What do you mean?" you kept your voice void yet curious. "Has the son run away?"

"Nah, he did himself off. His friend found him last night."

He said it so casually you would've thought he was talking as thought it was another occurrence. Like a fleeting article on the morning news. Anything but the death of a kid you'd tried to save.

"An overdose on fever meds," he said, sipping his coffee.

You blinked back the sudden prick of tears. You couldn't cry in front of Dale. "Poor kid." You took  your coffee and walked back into the office, feet somehow finding the strength to move.

As you sat at your desk, you chastised yourself. You shouldn't be mourning the death of someone you never knew. Yet still, you could think away the vacant feeling in your chest and those bitter feelings of guilt.

You'd been there for the past hour or two, god knows you weren't really counting. It could've been three for all you knew. The droplets of rain had soaked through the shirt, leaving you shivering on the bench. You couldn't will yourself to look away. Amidst the bright glow all of the apartments, his was dark.  

You hadn't noticed the man walking up to you, but by the time did he was standing above you and his he'd peeled his hood off. You could just about make out his features against the dimmed lights and droplets.

"He told me to give you this," he held out the white envelope. "It was in a letter."

You didn't know why you didn't question him, you knew better than to trust the words of strangers but still you took, knowing deep down who it was from. You watched the stranger walked down into the pathways, his figure fading into the dark abyss before you looked inside the envelope.

A ticket for one to Wistbury and three notes.

You let out the tear you'd be holding all day. Life wasn’t fair. 

[inhalareexhalare]

Inserted Re-Post// Ways You Can Fuck Up Someone Else’s Life and Your Own

Reuel is the name of the post-er:

(Beware Spoilers to a Filipino Film)

Alone Together (2018) - more like, sociopath-daddy issues together

Back when i was 16, i had 2 goals in life. 2 goals in life i want to achieve and that's it, my job is done, and i will be complete.

1. Eat a 21 piece KFC bucket by myself. 2. Play metal guitar as fast as possible.

It did not take long before i realized how shallow and stupid those goals were. I mean, it would be cool to be my age now and still have the arteries to handle 21 pieces of genetically modified fried chicken, or play open chords on a jcm marshall 800 ... but to call those GOALS, was a reflection of my youth and naivete.

As my goals in life changed, so did my perception and taste for rom coms and love stories.

I am no longer in my 20's, i am married, and i am in the stage where i have a very clear view of relationships without my libido to distract me.

Alone Together is a celebration of traits that breaks up future marriages and fucks up one's family life. If your goal in life is to be a single mother, or a deadbeat father, then you will love the characters played by Enrique Gil and Liza Soberino (i am murdering their last names, i really do not follow Philippine showbiz).

To give you better context, it is time for spoilers, and i will walk you through why both characters are messed up (and should refrain from raising children), and why their lives are the way it is.

Once upon a time, there were 2 lovers. Gil is a struggling med student, and Liza is a magna cum laude art student.

At that age, Gil, just like 16 year old me, has 2 goals in life:

1. Make Liza proud of him. 2. Marry Liza.

His goals are dumber, because at least my stupid goals only harmed my arteries and my finances.

When your self esteem is based on the approval of another person, you are going to be fucked. People are messed up. People are unpredictable. People change. And most of all, you cannot control people. The only thing you can control in this world is you.

If you want a stable self-esteem. It has to be based on how you see yourself.

Number 2. Marriage. You do not make "marrying your college girlfriend" your goal because life is bigger than shacking up with your girlfriend. The world is big. Possibilities are endless. And, you are young. Marriage requires a very deep understanding of the world and especially yourself. That is not possible in your 20's, even if you think you are more mature than others out there.

Here's a reality check: you are not mature. You are not a special snowflake. Everyone your age falls into the same thinking pattern you do. Heck, i did, and everybody thought i was mature. Remember, im that guy whose goal was 21 pieces of KFC chicken and playing Slayer at 250bpm.

Anyway ... in this movie, Gil never got to read my facebook page (plus he has no dad to teach him), so he ended up a crying mess when Liza broke up with him (for no clear reason), and he doomed himself into a purgatory of some sort.

Purgatory. Its that stage in your life where you refuse to grow and stay exactly the same person you are, making the same mistakes and believing in the same dumb-assed shit that got you there in the first place.

Now, on Liza's end ... she has already graduated Magna Cum Laude in Fine Arts and she is involved in a workplace controversy where her boss misappropriated 1 million pesos out of the company. She is an accesory to the crime, since she stupidly allowed everything to happen in front of her without telling anyone. She got involved in a law suit, and her career working in the economically viable world of Fine Arts is now ruined.

This brought about great depression in her, that she broke up with Gil.

Gil, being the sociopath he is, has zero empathy, and thought Liza broke up with him because he sucks at med school and he is taking a long while to graduate.

Fast forward 5 years later.

Liza is now in a relationship with a very industrious man, who is also going through an annulment. This man is her boss, and is probably a CEO of the company she works for. This guy is rich as fuck. And you know, in Pinoy movies, the rich fucker is always an asshole.

But i digress. I like the rich fucker, and i'll expound on it later.

Liza has a close relationship with Rich Guy's daughter, and she spends more time with her than the guy does.

Why?

The rich guy is busy running an architecture company, who even has clients based in New York ... plus the movie wants to frame: rich people = no time for family = asshole.

Liza complains that Rich Guy confuses her because eventhough he was the one who saved her career, helped her in the lawsuit, she is confused that Rich Guy treats her like an employee, while occasionally treating her like a girlfriend.

To this i say: of course Liza!

He is CEO of a really big company that he probably started. Do you know how hard it is to start a company? Do you know how hard he worked to build a company that big and that succesful?

He did that by putting the right people in the right corporate positions. And he did that to you because he thought you have talent for whatever job it is you are doing.

You have a job and financial security because of him, and now you are complaining that he treats you like an employee, while just 3 minutes ago, you were picked up in a chauffered car that you took to meet up with your fucking ex-boyfriend?!

I am getting ahead of myself. Let us go back to the story.

So Liza and Rich Guy goes to this awards event where Rich Guy is getting an outstanding person award. Lo and behold, another person was also getting a doctor of the year award (for helping poor people, of course, you have to always help poor people in Pinoy movies, because that is the only way you'll be a hero in the story), that person is, Gil.

Now, if i see any of my ex's ... i would smile and wave at them and go my merry way like every sane ex would.

But Liza and Gil? ... fuck no.

Not only did they meet each other's significant other, they also managed to exchange numbers, while making plans to meet up later.

Upon meeting, Gil the sociopath mindfucked Liza about their 5 year old past. He is now a great doctor - that for some reason, only has scenes in the ER, helping POOR people for free. And he even brings Liza to his workplace, mindfucking her again into seeing how much he helps POOR people.

Now, this pinoy schtick annoys me so much because poor people are ALWAYS ALWAYS: nice, polite, thankful, humble, appreciative.

Well guess what? I have a clinic with my wife and do you know who always gives me a headache?

People with no fucking money. Poor people.

I am sorry. If you own a business, sold guitars, worked the cashier in a hospital, worked as a waiter ... most of your problems and pains will be from poor people or poor people pretending to be rich.

People with money, pay you, smile and go about their merry way.

Poor people? Fuck. They would always have a version of buyer's remorse, or they would go out of their way to get you in trouble so they can have their version of a discount.

So yes. Stop framing poor people as saints and rich people as devils. Both exist regardless of financial status. And you will not be smiling and handsome as Gil if your job is serving people who cannot pay medical bills.

All this mindfucking ultimately convinced Liza to represent Rich Guy's corporation in New York.

At this point, Liza is already a cheating bitch in denial. She is meeting Gil regularly. They even go on dates where they pretend to be bf-gf.

I mean, i could respect Liza if she was just a horny bitch, but she is so deep in denial of her cheating ... that horny bitch or cheating bitch, i have lost respect for her character.

She is the girl i will tell my son to never take seriously. Have fun with her, hang out with her, but under no circumstance should he be serious with a cheating horny bitch.

You do not want to be involved with a woman who is so lost and damaged, she has zero clue what she wants in this life.

That is a big clue in whether a woman is worth marrying. She should know who she is and what she is capable of. Anyone who is in denial or ignorant about their flaws is a bigger headache than people who cannot pay their medical bills.

Anyway, Liza goes to New York. She extends her stay so she can go see some museums. And guess who is there?

The sociopath Gil of course.

Without any permission, Gil, the angel doctor who helps poor people, leaves the hospital and his girlfriend on a whim, to see his ex in New York.

At this point, i was really pissed off because the movie is now celebrating these 2 cheating son of a bitches.

They go on dates, they kissed. And Gil told Liza he broke up with his gf, so they can be together again.

Now you understand why i call Gil a sociopath.

Gil is completely devoid of empathy. Here are the signs:

1. He has no boundaries. When Liza broke up with him, he stalked her house for weeks. Any psychologically healthy male knows that no means no.

2. He has a girlfriend, yet he texted and asked to meet Liza.

3. Upon meeting Liza, he had no guilt flirting with her, holding her hand, and within 10 seconds, introduced her to his current girlfriend. Any normal male would show guilt at this point.

4. He leaves his job like it was nothing.

5. He broke up with his current gf as if it were nothing.

6. He is hot and cold with Liza. Hot, when Liza wants to stop their affair. Cold, when Liza suddenly wants to see him.

You know whats the saddest part?

I have met and dated girls who wanted those things in a man!

1. They want the guy to fight for their love and not give up. Who does that? A sociopath!

2. Will never get over them even after years of not meeting. Errr, obsessed sociopath?

3. Would drop everything for them. Errr, impulsive sociopath?

4. Will choose them even when they have a gf. Cheating, horny sociopath?

5. Challenging, unpredictable and full of surprises. Oh i know people like that! They are sociopaths!

Movies like this celebrate sociopaths, just because they have a job that helps the poor.

Now, after the New York momol, Liza decides not to see Gil.

Liza is such a fucked up character. She is cheating, yet she does not want to do it, yet, she misses it and wants to do it again.

Gil, shows his sociopath rage and tells Liza that she only stuck with the guy for 5 years because she has nowhere to go. He claims that she is only guilty and is only repaying Rich Guy by being his girlfriend.

To this i think its presumptuous of Gil.

Rich Guy made her human again - saved her from a law suit, gave her a real career. how can she not fall in love with a guy like that?

But since Liza is a girl with daddy issues, has zero clue what traits to look for a guy, as long as he is handsome and helps the poor like Gil ... she believes him.

Liza and Rich Guy had dinner to which Liza kept yapping about her musuem trip, while Rich Guy was totally not interested and kept asking her questions about the client meetings.

You know, Rich Guy did send her to New York to represent their company. And just allowed her to stay for 3 more days of sight seeing. He spent company money, 100k or so for a back and forth trip to Philippines and New York ... so it is normal that he cares about the business meetings more than the boring art stuff Liza is yapping out.

Rich Guy did not become rich because his interest in life was appreciating art. His interest is in business, so you really cannot fault him for wanting to ask about the meetings before anything else.

Liza, apparently, does not give a shit about finances, despite being stuck in a million peso law suit and unemployment, because she does not like Rich Guys concerns at all. So she proposes that shes not happy with her corporate job and is interested in taking low paying, entry level museum jobs.

Again, pinoy movies really hammer it down that finances are nothing and our passion and family is what matters. It is not surprising why most Filipinos are in terrible financial situations ... for some reason, its media celebrates not giving a shit about money, despite the fact that it is the problem staring us straight in the face all the time.

Rich Guy was pissed, but calmed down and told her that if she wants to mess around and have fun with her art shit, he knows some people and he can get her jobs on the spot with his connections.

Apparently, Liza does not like this. She broke up with Rich Guy then and there.

So, i dont get it.

Rich Guy allowed her to quit her corporate job, even got her a job for the art stuff she wanted to do, and she gets mad.

Do you know what kind of a girl would punish a man for taking care of her, while rewarding another man who mindfucks her?

A girl who is going to be a single mother.

I know this is probably going to be very offensive, because there are single mothers in here. But to this, im going to ask:

-have you ever dreamed of being a single mother?

The answer is no. Along with that No, is probably an admission of the mistake in being involved with a man you should have never been involved with.

I am sorry if you are a single mother. It is not the best status to be in, but if you truly learned from your experience, you will agree with what i say:

You had no clue what traits to look for in a man.

Liza is an example of someone who has no idea in what traits to look for in a man, and this movie teaches the wrong mindset, especially when looking for someone to have children with.

Liza let go a man who could have secured her future, and she chose a fucking sociopath over him.

Now, after the break up, Liza rushed to the hospital to tell Gil that she is now free and single! At this point, Liza is also now a sociopath. A girl with daddy issues craves for approval of a male she idolizes, she ends up taking on their traits.

Gil, was stone cold upon seeing her. Normally, he would be happy cause now they can be together, right? Wrong!

Gil does not want Liza anymore because his ex, the one he left for Liza, is pregnant.

Yes... ironic as it is, Liza did not become a single mom, but the other girl who got involved with Gil became a single mom.

You may hate what i say, but even the goddamned movie confirmed my predictions.

Now, Liza is officially alone ... and shes having a hard time looking for a job. Shes back to being poor, and nobody would hire her cause of her lawsuit past. But since this is a movie, Liza still gets to wear expensive clothes and makeup while struggling to find work until, one art museum took her in and she became very succesful.

She claims in the epilogue she doesnt get to meet Gil again, but as soon as she said that, Gil showed up in her museum, telling her that he broke up with his pregnant girlfriend but they promised to be good parents to their kid.

The last scene shows us Gil and Liza looking at a painting of Spolarium, while Gil carries and introduces his son to Liza. I mean, that is an awesome way to market a broken family. Make it look normal and problem free where daddy has a new girlfriend, totally ignoring the dynamics of original mommy in the equation.

Can you imagine how that set up is gonna mess up a child?

I have a mom. I have a dad who lives in a different house. I do not see dad much. Dad has a girl who is nice to me, but is not my mommy. Dad kisses that girl, but never kisses mommy. Meanwhile, theres another man in mommy's house who kisses mommy but is not my daddy.

I am sorry if you are in that situation. I do not mean to offend, but you do not want your children to be in that situation. Do not be offended just because i wrote about your mistake and the consequences you are living with now.

3/10.

Theres a reason why Philippine cinema is dying, and that is because it promotes values that is detrimental to our progress as mature beings.

It is funny that watching a movie and reading a comic book about an intergalactic threat like Thanos, teaches us more values about friendship, heroism and sacrifice, than a relationship movie that completely ignores the consequences of stupid decisions, while making cartoonish stereotypes of people in specific financial situations.

This is why it’s important to be clear about your goals, folks. 

(1) Goal/s. This is your purpose. Your driving force. Your motivation to get up in the morning. Your reason for living. Consciously make concrete your goal/s in life. Evaluate. There’s nothing wrong with revision and reconfiguration. What’s wrong is, as the writer put it, “purgatory.” Stagnation.

(2) Intention/s. This is actually synonymous to Goal/s, but I put it here in search of a different perspective. Your ultimate goal doesn’t change much. Not a lot. But your intentions do. We have limited attention. We humans are easily distracted, and easily scared. In fear, we cling to something illusory. In intoxication, we hold on to temporary glory. This, is why I differentiate goals with intentions. 

Your goals don’t change in your logical mind, but your intentions do, in your wandering head/heart. It’s important to be aware of what you do and why you do it. Again, there’s nothing wrong with reconfiguration. Mistakes isn’t the end. Collect principles from them.

(3) Choice/s. Once you know you’re in the right/wrong track, it doesn’t end there. Getting better takes initiative. You have to be active about what you want. If you have time to complain, you have time to do something productive and improve yourself as a person. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to set small goals on your way up your personal stairs. It’s impossible to be a musician in one day simply because it’s too big a step. That’s just impossible for you. 

Small goals are big decisions. They decide your new habits. Small goals are like, requiring yourself to practice at least five minutes a day. It’s the small routines that build up your muscle. As your muscle overgrows your routine, that signals you to set higher small goals. Things are achieved through consistency. The first two points are there so that you can detect your bad habits as early as you can to replace them with new habits. Habits maketh human.

The movie shows how far they went, not realizing the inner mechanism of their minds. They fail to challenge themselves. They fail to ask themselves important questions, and they have no desire to assess their wants and needs, and the consequences their decisions make.

Being human is not an easy thing, you should know.

You have a mind. Put it to good use.

I’m not afraid of failure. What I fear is the point of no longer wanting to learn, no longer desiring to progress.

THE WORLD DESERVES MORE FROM ME, AND IT IS TOO RICH AND TOO VAST FOR ME TO TAKE FOR GRANTED

[mizmahlia]

#5 with Jason Todd

Oooo was this one fun. ;) Thanks for requesting this one- I hope it’s angsty enough for you!

(Also? AU drabble is very AU.)

#5: Jason Todd – “How funny. You thought I cared.”

Batman had the Red Hood and a mob hitman cornered in an alley on Miagani Island. The man Red Hood had his gun trained on was stupid enough to cash in on a hit put on a city official. Just as the Red Hood drew his gun to fire a warning shot in his direction, Batman pinned the gun to the wall behind him using his own grapple gun. But then he’d drawn a second weapon faster than Batman thought was possible and now he was dangerously close to finishing off his hostage. The man was on his knees, hands behind his head, facing Batman. 

“Try something. I dare you. I make Boy Scouts look lazy.”

Bruce stopped at a safe distance. He could hear the amusement in Jason’s voice, even through the voice modulator in the helmet. The second gun was pointed at the back of the man’s head, his arm steady and the hammer cocked.

“You can’t see it, but under this helmet? I’m enjoying this.”

“You know I can’t let you do this.”

He didn’t move, choosing to give himself enough room to carry out any number of the scenarios in his head. The problem was that most of the scenarios he was considering wound up with the man dead on account of Jason’s accuracy and reflexes. And my hesitation to do what I have to, he thought.

“Ah, yes. ‘The Bat Talk’. Are you really going to do this again?” He tilted his head and sighed theatrically. “You realize the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” He shoved the barrel of the gun against the man’s head and he yelped in surprise.

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek. Jason had always had a knack for pushing his buttons, but this was different. This wasn’t some sparring session at home or a bored Robin on patrol with nothing to do. This was a man, a young man, with a myriad of issues to deal with and a nasty grudge, and that made him more dangerous than Bruce cared to admit.

“And you’re a model example of sanity?” Bruce gestured to the man who was now shaking violently and had wet himself. “This isn’t the way we do things and you know that. I taught you better than this.”

The man looked up at Batman, shocked at the realization these two knew each other.

“Nightwing said something similar nights ago, except he told me I’m 'unhinged’.” He shook his head and looked down to his left. His voice grew quiet. “I guess we’re back to you guys all calling me crazy, huh? Good to know.”

Something in Bruce’s chest lurched at the wounded tone to Jason’s voice. He stepped forward, one hand out in front of him.

“Listen, I…”

Jason cut him off. He holstered his gun and dropped his hands to his sides, balling them into fists.

“You want to know if I’m any more sane or rational than you? Christ, that’s not hard. I have no illusions about what I am and why I am this way,” he said pointedly. “And before you give me any more shit about it, I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna tell me that killing someone who took a life not forty-five minutes ago just for money, let me remind you, doesn’t make me any better than him.”

Bruce stayed silent and let Jason talk. He’d holstered the gun under his arm, not at his thigh, and his drawing speed from beneath his arm was slightly slower. He just might have a chance to save him. A small voice in the back of his mind asked which man he was referring to and he told himself he could save them both. But he’d been so exhausted since the siege, both physically and mentally, and he couldn’t deny that the murderer in front of Jason was the least of his concerns.

“It doesn’t. And you know that.”

Jason released the catch on his helmet, the face plate shifting with a hiss. Bruce steeled himself, surprised at the move and not at all prepared to see Jason’s face again. He hadn’t seen him since the night of the siege and his eyes went straight to the scar below Jason’s left eye. Jason knew Bruce would stare and he grinned, ghosting his fingers over the red, raised skin.

“Yeah, this one hurt like a bitch. But it wasn’t the worst thing he did to me.” A bitter chuckle died in his throat and he shook his head. He looked up at Bruce, his piercing blue eyes locked onto the lenses in his cowl.

“The worst thing he did was only a few months in. He showed me a photo of you and the new kid. Sick, right? So everything that happened after that- the beatings, the meds from Harley, the weird psych experiments. They all paled in comparison to what you did to me. You left me.”

Bruce felt the color drain from his face and his stomach rolled. He’d long had suspicions of what happened to Jason, but the only evidence he had to work with was the video Joker sent of Jason’s apparent execution. He’d studied that footage repeatedly, seeing the burns and the bruising and the scarring, and the terrible condition of Jason’s suit. He analyzed the bruising patterns to determine when they’d been inflicted, but there were so many in varying stages of healing it was nearly impossible to tell. In the end, the video showed him everything but told him nothing.

But none of that mattered anymore. None of what the Joker did to Jason could hold a candle to how a photo of a new Robin would hurt him. As difficult as it was for Bruce to admit, the Joker had finally done what he’d been trying to do for years: he destroyed Robin and by extension, Batman. And he’d taken a son from his father.

Jason was staring at him now, anger replaced by smugness at Bruce’s lack of response. He noticed Bruce’s posture stiffen when he mentioned the photo and he took a small measure of satisfaction in the fact he could throw some of his pain back in Bruce’s face. He took advantage of Bruce being distracted and continued talking.

“Anyway. We can reminisce some other time.”

Jason stepped behind the hitman again, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He pulled him to his feet, putting him between himself and Bruce. “One man killing another doesn’t change much, so you’re half-right. But when you’ve killed as many of these assholes as I have? That’s called making a difference.”

His eyes never left Batman’s face as he gripped the man’s chin in one hand and the back of his head in the other, twisting violently. Bruce darted forward but he knew he was too late. Jason let go and the man dropped to the ground in a heap.

“Wow, old man. You’re getting slow. Did you even want to stop me?” 

He dusted his hands together and yanked the grapple line from the wall next to him to retrieve his gun. He studied the dents in the barrel before returning it to his holster. He wasn’t at all surprised when Bruce spun him around, fists latching onto his jacket, and he allowed Bruce to slam him against the building behind him. Jason wasn’t looking at Batman at that moment. He was looking at Bruce. And it was Bruce’s voice shouting at him.

“Do you remember any of what I taught you? Do you remember any of what we accomplished together?“ Jason didn’t react and simply stood there, savoring the fact he was nearly the same height as Bruce now. He looked at his former mentor and partner, an empty smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, how funny. You thought I still cared.”

He didn’t move, his eyes boring into Bruce’s.

“You think I still care about any of that? That after everything Joker put me through, everything you let him do to me and countless others, that I would still follow your rules? That I would care about saving the lives of criminals who will never change?”

He slammed his knee into Bruce’s solar plexus, sending him backward and forcing him to let go. Jason then swung one of his massive arms, his gloved fist connecting solidly with Bruce’s face.

“Jason, we don’t cross that line. We don’t take lives. We can’t.” Bruce swiped blood from his cheek. “You used to believe in that.”

“Yeah, well, I used to believe in a lot of things. Like family, for instance. But a year of physical and psychological torture tends to shift your perspective a little bit. The Jason you knew before all of this is long gone. You can thank the Joker and Harley for that.”

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but the words were lost. He had no idea what to say because he had no idea what his son had been through. Jason looked down at the dead man between them and shook his head.

“You all think I’m crazy, that I need to be saved and sent to Arkham, the place that turned me into… this.” There was so much venom in his words at the mention of Arkham. He looked up at Bruce and his voice wavered ever so slightly.

“I’m a lot of things, B. Angry. Confused. Hell, I know I’m damaged.”

He touched his fingers to a hidden button on his helmet, once again covering his face and the capital ‘J’ on his cheek.

“But I’m not the lunatic you all think I am.”

He fired his grapple at a nearby rooftop and disappeared into the darkness. Bruce again looked at the dead man at his feet. He had to call Gordon and report the incident. But before he could call Gordon, Alfred’s voice was in his ear piece.

“Sir, as much as you don’t want to hear it, I believe that young man has a point.”

“You can’t be serious, Alfred. He’s killing people.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. I disagree with the permanence of the results from his method of crime-fighting, as I know you do.”

Bruce didn’t say a word. He continued staring at the man on the ground, eyes open and fixed on the street lamp above them. He knew Alfred was watching the feed from his cowl live on the monitors back at the cave, looking into those same dead eyes. He knelt down and closed them.

“But?”

“He said it himself; he isn’t insane. Master Jason knows what he’s doing is wrong and he’s aware of the consequences of his actions. As it stands, in a court of law he would be considered sane.”

“He can’t be allowed to take his issues out on Gotham. I won’t let him continue operating this way.”

Bruce shook his head and stood up, sending Gordon a message about the incident and its location. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that anymore tonight.

“I know you won’t. Master Bruce, was there truth to what he said? Have you and Master Dick told him he’s crazy?”

There was a reproachful tone in Alfred’s voice and Bruce didn’t answer as he launched himself up out of the alley and into the night sky. It wasn’t that simple. They all thought Jason was dead until that night of the siege two months ago. To find out he’d worked for years planning such a horrendous event was too much to process at first. Jason, his partner, his son, had wanted him dead and went to terrifying extremes to try and make that happen. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to consider Jason would have made that decision while he was of sound mind. Jason wouldn’t do that.

But he’d seen the video. And the scar. He’d heard the taunts from Harley about the “fun” she’d had with him. And then there were the flashbacks the Joker had shown him, the ones he told himself weren’t real, couldn’t be real. After tonight, he realized they may have been much more real than he cared to admit.

“Sir, while I agree he’s emotionally volatile and unsteady, he’s been severely traumatized. Please consider the possibility he may be reaching out for help. Even if he doesn’t realize it.”

Bruce turned off his ear piece without responding and glided over the river toward the movie studios. He had to find a way to help Jason, to try and fix the years of damage and abuse. To show him he hadn’t been simply cast aside and written off.

He put on a pot of coffee and sat down at the main computer terminal, locking down the movie studios and disabling all of his communication devices. He couldn’t afford the distractions and didn’t want anyone interfering. It was time to talk to Harley to find out what they did to his son and how to repair the damage.

But if that didn’t work, if his plan failed, he would need a way to stop him. Either way, Harley would give him what he needed. He didn’t fail to see the irony in that and with a grim smile, he started typing.

We can fix this, Jason.

Together.