#hello i have been uh. On and off suicidal lol. And now i am not! I am doing Significantly better i realised today! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maybeimamuppet · 1 year

Text

the rainbow road

hello everyone!!

happy priiiiide i actually genuinely did not plan having this be the first fic i posted in pride month but daaaaang it worked out lol

this was requested by OnlyHere4TheFandoms on wattpad. here it be yay :))

quite possibly the longest list of trigger warnings i’ve ever had haha oops

pre-coming out misgendering/deadnaming

trans/homophobia

child abuse

abandonment

bullying

outing

self harm

suicide attempt/ideation

implied ed

dslur

happy pride once again. whether you realized it like these kiddos or much later in life. whether you’re out and proud or watching from the closet. much love <33

enjoy!

—————

Janis still remembers the first time she thought something was up with her best friend.

They were six years old. Having a play date at Janis’ house. Dana’s mom had come to pick her up, but they begged and pleaded and managed to get their mothers both to agree to another two whole hours while they had some coffee and caught up.

They decided to play their favorite game, knights and princesses. Dana is always the knight. Janis doesn’t mind so much. She likes being the princess. Her old pink princess Halloween costume doesn’t fit so well anymore since she’s grown so much, but she can pretend it’s not so tight and itchy. It’s as easy as pretending the crown on her head isn’t plastic and standing on her dresser is as scary as being locked high away in a tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

“Fear not, fair maiden!” Dana says, brandishing her sword against Janis’ puppy, Molly. “I will slay this foul beast and save you from your… uh… jail!”

“Imprisonment, Dana,” Janis says with a roll of her eyes. She giggles as Molly chomps down on the foam sword and shakes her head, trying to steal the toy.

“Hey! Molly,” Dana giggles, wiggling it gently to wrestle it back.

“You’re not supposed to eat it, Molly,” Janis laughs. Molly’s dragon hat is falling off, so she hops down and adjusts it.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to get down! How am I supposed to save you now?”

“I guess the princess saved herself this time,” Janis says with a shrug. She rolls on the ground to wrestle with the delighted pup and eventually rips off the dragon costume. “The beast is… vanished!”

“Vanquished!” Dana admonishes.

“That’s it!” Janis nods.

“We gotta read more storybooks, I think,” Dana says as she starts pulling off her foam armor.

“I’ll ask for more for my birthday soon.”

“Oh, yeah!” Dana nods eagerly. Janis pulls off her hot, itchy dress, but decides to leave the crown on. “Janis?”

“Yeah?”

“D’you ever wish you could be a boy? And not just for dress up?”

“Mm… no,” Janis says. “Well, sometimes I wish that girls could kiss girls like boys get to. But I don’t think I wanna be a boy.”

Dana is quiet, running her finger over the new teeth marks in her sword.

“Why?”

“Nothing. You wanna play spacemans?” Dana says, dropping her sword on the floor. Janis will definitely be in trouble later if she doesn’t clean up, but that can wait. Spacemans comes first.

“Yeah!” she says, conversation forgotten.

—————

They were ten when they learned there was a word for everything.

Dana had been deemed old enough to inherit her dad’s old work laptop after he got a new one. She quickly discovered the wonder of the internet. And a few of the horrors.

Janis came over for a sleepover. They watched a few pirated PG-13 movies. Janis had to be talked into it, briefly fearing the police would find out and come to lock them up for good. Or worse, their parents. God knows what they would do.

Dana reassured her that she had done this before and no police nor parents had ever found out. They’d be fine as long as they didn’t fess up. Janis was pinky-sworn to secrecy and let herself enjoy a few movies.

“D’you remember when we were little and you said you wanna kiss girls?” Dana asks as the third one’s credits scroll on the fuzzy old screen.

“What?!” Janis gasps.

“Hey, you said it,” Dana says.

“I did not! I don’t wanna kiss anyone!”

“You did so!” Dana insists.

“And besides, girls can’t kiss other girls!” Janis huffs. “It’s illegal.”

“No it’s not,” Dana giggles. “It’s just illegal for girls and girls and boys and boys to get married. But my mom says they’re gonna change it soon.”

“Oh,” Janis says.

“So you can kiss girls if you want to.”

“I don’t! Gross!” Janis groans, burying her face in her pillow.

“Not even Regina George?” Dana teases. Janis rears up with a gasp and whacks her with a pillow.

“You’re horrible!”

“Ow, hey!” Dana laughs. “You’re horribler.”

“That’s impossible,” Janis grumbles.

“But I’m your best friend! We got the necklaces and everything!” Dana gasps.

“They say cousins, Dana,” Janis says with a roll of her eyes.

“My mom read the package wrong. At least they match,” Dana huffs, closing the laptop and rolling onto her back.

“Why’d you ask me that?” Janis asks quietly, lying on her stomach next to her.

“Ask you what?”

“About the… kissing girls thing.”

“Oh,” Dana says. “I found a website. I think it’s bad. But there’s a word for girls who kiss girls. Called lesbian. And another word for girls who wanna be boys.”

“Really?” Janis asks. “We’re not the only ones?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Huh. What’s the word for you?”

“Transgender,” Dana recites immediately. She’s clearly done a good bit of research here.

“Like Transformers?” Janis asks.

“I think so. Cause they… transform.”

“Into a boy?”

“Yeah. But it can go the other way, too. Some boys wanna be girls,” Dana says in disbelief. “Who’d ever wanna be a girl?”

“I dunno. Girls are prettier. And they smell better,” Janis says.

“When I’m a boy I’ll still be pretty,” Dana says. “And smell nice.”

“You can turn into a boy?” Janis asks.

“I’m gonna ask my mom soon. And my dad always says he wants a son. They’ll be happy,” Dana says.

“Cool. Can I come when you transform?” Janis asks.

“Duh!” Dana says. “You gotta make sure they’re not actually gonna turn me into a truck or something.”

“Oh yeah,” Janis giggles.

“Do… you think you’ll still be my friend? When I’m a boy?” Dana asks quietly.

“Duh,” Janis retaliates, poking her best friend in the belly. “We got the necklaces, after all.”

“Good. You wanna go watch Mulan in the basement?” Dana asks.

“I’ll get the popcorn!”

—————

Janis noticed how uncomfortable her friend looked being called a ‘she’ or a ‘her’ or ‘Dana’ after that day. Always a grimace or a wince. She’d fold her arms over her chest, almost like she was trying to keep down the things she knew were doomed to come.

She never did around Janis, though. Something about their history together, Janis supposed.

Then Dana’s dad left.

They were eleven.

It was November. They’d gotten home from school a few hours earlier eager for three extra days off of school for Thanksgiving break.

Janis was playing in the backyard with her almost-five year old little sister when she heard two car doors open and close from the other side of the house and the doorbell echoing from inside.

She continued pushing her sister on the swings, figuring it must be someone trying to sell something or convince them to find Jesus. Janis hopes that whoever this Jesus guy is, his family find him soon. Sounds like they’ve been missing him for a long time.

“Janis, Julie, time to come in,” their father says. Janis looks up and shudders a bit at the dark look gracing his features.

“But-” Julie begins to protest.

“Now, girls.”

“No fair!” Julie whines, climbing off the swing and moping inside. Janis has been bored for a while, and it’s getting dark and cold. She heads in with nowhere near as much complaint.

She freezes when she sees her best friend crying at the end of the hallway and their mothers talking frantically in hushed voices.

“Mama? What’s going on?”

“Oh, Janis!” her mother gasps. “You scared me. Why don’t you go get Dana set up in your room, dear?”

“Um… okay?” Janis says in confusion. “What’s-”

“I’ll explain later. You two go get settled in. Dana’s spending the night tonight.”

Janis knows the tense look in her mother’s brow means now is not the time to push. She gently tugs on Dana’s sleeve to get her to follow her upstairs. Dana sags onto Janis’ bed like a thousand pound weight is sitting on her shoulders. Janis has never seen her cry like this.

Janis leaves her to her feelings while she gets a sleeping bag unrolled on the ground next to her bed and grabs a spare pillow. She hesitates briefly before she sits down next to her best friend. “What happened?”

“I… I told them,” Dana chokes.

“Told them what?”

“That-that I want to be a boy.”

“Oh.” Janis says quietly. “You still want to?”

“Not anymore,” Dana growls. “Not if this is what people do.”

“What do you mean?” Janis asks sadly. Dana turns to look at her head on, and Janis gasps when she sees the red, almost glowing, hand-shaped welt on her cheek. “Dana!”

“Can-can you not call me that? Please?” Dana begs.

“Okay. What-what should I call you instead?” Janis asks, pausing her concern for the briefest of moments.

“I don’t know. Anything but that.”

“How about… D?” Janis asks. Dana nods frantically. Or, D does. “D, who hit you?”

“Dad,” D chokes.

“Your dad hit you? He can’t do that!” Janis says.

“He did anyway,” D sobs.

“Why?” Janis asks, desperately trying to understand.

“He-he called me a freak. He said I was confused, but I told him-him that I’ve been-been thinking about-bout this for a really-really long time. And then he… he hit me. And he left.”

“He can’t do that!” Janis repeats. “Your mom better talk to him when he comes back.”

D looks at her sadly. She’s quiet for a minute before whispering, “He-he’s not coming back, Janis.”

“What do you mean?” Janis asks, feeling her chest go cold.

“He packed his stuff. He said he wasn’t gonna-gonna stick around if this is how I was gonna make-make him live. He said it wasn’t right.”

Janis blinks in confusion. D’s dad was always a little scary. But she never would’ve thought the man who grilled them delicious cheeseburgers on nice summer days while they played in D’s backyard, the man who made them pancakes for breakfast after sleepovers, the man who sang embarrassing karaoke with them at D’s tenth birthday, the man who gave them sparklers on the Fourth of July and birthday presents and new stuffed animals… would do this.

“I’m sorry, D,” Janis says, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll be right back.”

D looks up in confusion as Janis says this and watches as she runs out of the room. Their moms have moved to the living room, and Janis’ stepdad is putting Julie to bed down the hall. Janis runs into the kitchen to grab an ice pack and a towel for D’s face, and some ice cream with two spoons.

“Janis, sweetheart,” D’s mother says. “Did… did Dana tell you what happened?”

Janis nods solemnly. “She wants to be called D now, Mrs. Leigh.”

“D?” she questions. She nods tightly. It’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Thank you for being there for her, honey.”

Janis just nods. She lingers for a second. Nobody says anything, so she takes a few steps back towards her room. When nobody stops her, she runs the rest of the way back.

“Here,” Janis says when she makes it back. D jumps as the door slams open, still on edge from what happened earlier. She smiles just a little as Janis shows off the ice cream.

They lie side by side, D holding the ice pack against her cheek and sniffling periodically as they silently enjoy their favorite chocolate chip ice cream.

Eventually, Janis’ mom knocks quietly on the door. Janis looks to D, who nods hesitantly. “Come in.”

Janis’ mom steps in and shuts the door behind her. “How are you doing, Dan- uh. D?”

“I’m okay,” D says quietly.

“Poor girl,” Janis’ mother tuts. D tenses.

“Mama, don’t call her a girl anymore,” Janis scolds, noticing her friend’s discomfort.

“I don’t wanna be a her either,” D mumbles softly.

“What do you wanna be then?” Janis asks. D shrugs.

“Do you want to be a he?” Janis’ mother asks kindly. D shakes her head frantically.

“What else is there?” Janis asks.

Janis’ mother mulls this over and says, “Could be a they. Somewhere sort of in between.”

“You wanna be a they, D?” Janis asks gently. D ponders.

“Could we try it out? Just for tonight?” they ask quietly.

“Of course,” Janis’ mother says kindly. “Have you had dinner, D?”

“Yeah,” D nods.

“And we got ice cream, Mama,” Janis says.

Janis’ mother chuckles. “Of course. Just don’t eat too much, you know it’ll make your stomachs hurt.”

D and Janis share a look that says they’re definitely going to finish the entire thing. Janis’ mother rolls her eyes. She inhales heavily before she gently says, “D, sweetheart, I couldn’t… help but notice your hair.”

D instinctively reaches a hand to the back of their head. Janis somehow missed the huge chunk missing of their formerly long, beautiful chestnut brown hair.

“Do you want me to help you fix it?” Janis’ mother continues.

D hesitates, the hand they have wrapped around the spoon shaking. They put it down and grip their thighs to stop it. “Um… maybe later?”

“Of course. Let me know if you want, alright? You two have fun up here. Julie’s asleep, so keep the noise to a minimum, please.”

“We will,” Janis sighs.

“Thanks, Mrs. Ian,” D adds politely. Janis’ mother smiles before she leaves them to their ice cream, clicking the door shut behind her.

“What happened to your hair?” Janis asks.

“I cut it,” D says sheepishly.

“No duh, stupid,” Janis snorts. “Why?”

“I don’t want it long anymore. That’s how my parents found out,” D says, pushing some of the ice cream around the rapidly emptying pint before hesitantly taking another bite.

“My mom’s good at hair. She does my stepdad’s all the time,” Janis says. “She still won’t let me dye mine, though.”

“But your hair is so pretty!” D gasps.

“That’s what she always says,” Janis huffs.

“Why do you want to dye it?”

“Regina wants us to match,” Janis shrugs. “Kinda like a uniform.”

“You’d look nice as a blonde,” D nods. “I like your hair dark, though.”

Janis shrugs again. “It’s what Regina wants.”

“But what do you want?”

“For her not to hit me again,” Janis chuckles.

“She hit you?”

“Yeah. Not hard. It’s fine,” Janis says.

“Friends shouldn’t hit you, Janis,” D says.

“I know that, Da- D. She didn’t mean it, it’s fine. Let it go.”

D eyes her oddly, but doesn’t mention anything again. The handprint on their cheek fades as they huddle together under Janis’ pink duvet and watch The Little Mermaid.

“D’you think your mom will still do my hair?” D asks softly, fiddling with a stray thread on the blanket. Janis checks the clock on the computer and sees it’s past midnight now. Her mom might be asleep. They’re definitely supposed to be.

She shrugs. “If she’s still up, she probably will.”

They both roll out of the bed and head off to find Janis’ mom. They hear raised voices coming from the kitchen.

“Wait here,” Janis says when they reach the top of the stairs. D looks at her in confusion, but sits and watches Janis go down. Janis heads down the hallway and stands there, listening.

“I just don’t want Janis hanging around those kinds of people, Ettie,” she hears her stepdad say.

“And what kind of people would that be, Greg?” her mom responds.

She can practically hear her dad’s grit teeth. “You know damn well.”

“They’re eleven years old. Nothing is-”

“Exactly. Eleven is way too young to be exposed to that sort of lifestyle.”

“How is a child living in a way that makes them comfortable a lifestyle?” Janis’ mother questions.

“It just isn’t natural, Ettie!” her father insists. “What if she influences Janis to be… like that?”

“You know damn well nobody can influence Janis into anything she doesn’t want to do,” her mother huffs around a sardonic laugh. “If Janis does come out as something, she will still be my daughter. And I’d hope she’d be yours too.”

It’s silent after that. Janis shows her face from behind the wall and tries her best to make it seem like she didn’t hear their whole conversation. “Mama, D wants to know if you can help with their hair now.”

“Now? It’s late, don’t you two want to get some sleep?” her mother responds. She forces a smile, but Janis can still see the strain behind her eyes and the tension held in her brow.

“Mama,” Janis huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Her mother chuckles. “Of course not. Go get her- them set up in the bathroom, I’ll be right up.”

“Mmkay,” Janis says. She heads back up to her best friend, trying to forget what she just heard. “D, come on.”

D follows her to the bathroom and winces a bit as she flips on the light, having gotten adjusted to the darkness of the hallway. Janis’ mother comes up after a few minutes with a stool from the kitchen. She sets it in front of the mirror and tells D to sit down on it.

“How short do you want to go? I can just even it out with what you cut, if you want, or I can go shorter if you want… something more masculine,” she asks as she snaps the hair cutting cape around D’s neck.

“I think just even it out, please,” D asks sheepishly. Janis can see their hands moving under the cape and sits on the counter so they can see each other.

“You sure?” she asks. D nods.

“Alrighty then,” Janis’ mother says. She takes her hair cutting scissors and goes to work, occasionally turning D’s head this way and that to make sure it’s even and looks nice. Long chunks of brown hair fall to the tile around them as she continues. Eventually, D’s hair is all about even with their chin. It frames their round face, and D looks at themselves with a smile.

“What do you think?” Janis’ mother asks as she brushes some stray hairs off the back of D’s neck.

“I like it a lot,” D says. “Thank you, Mrs. Ian.”

“Of course, hon.”

“Now me!” Janis says eagerly, watching how D’s hair bounces and twirls at this new short length.

“You?” her mother chuckles. “I don’t remember asking if you wanted a haircut.”

“But I’m telling you I want a haircut,” Janis responds. “Pleeeeease?”

“We have to match,” D adds, knowing they have more sway with their friend’s parents than Janis ever could. Janis’ mother rolls her eyes, but pats the stool.

“Yes!” Janis says, eagerly plopping herself down. She panics a bit as her mom snips off the first chunk and she hears the scissors slicing through her hair. Her mother leaves her hair a little bit longer, but she does lose a good few inches. Janis’ is about even with her shoulders by the time her mother is done.

“Matching enough for the two of you?” she asks, brushing Janis clean of stray hairs. D and Janis look to each other and nod eagerly.

“Your hair is so curly, D,” Janis chuckles.

“Yours is too!” D responds with a giggle.

Janis’ mom rolls her eyes as they both reach out to tug on each other’s newly short hair and it naturally devolves into playful fighting. She tidies up and goes to grab her camera.

Janis and D pose against the wall in the hallway, arms around each other and matching smiles on their faces. Janis’ mother snaps a few sweet photos.

“Alright, you two, to bed with you. Just because you’re on break doesn’t mean you get to stay up all night,” she says when she’s satisfied with what she’s gotten.

“Fine. ‘Night Mama,” Janis says.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” her mother replies. She kisses her forehead and sends her off to her room.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Ian,” D says sheepishly. They get a matching forehead kiss.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams, you two.”

D curls up in the sleeping bag on the floor while Janis gets comfortable in her bed. Molly trots in and curls up at her feet, but it feels… off. Janis tosses and turns, feeling the minutes drag by and by. Sleep doesn’t come.

Eventually, she flops onto her side to peer off the edge of the bed at her best friend. “Psst.”

“What?” D groans exhaustedly.

“Are you awake?”

“No,” D grumbles. “Whayouwant.”

“I can’t sleep,” Janis whines.

D rolls over and squints at her in the darkness. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Can we still cuddle even though you’re not a girl anymore?”

D rolls their eyes and clambers their way out of the sleeping bag. Janis winces at the icky metallic rustling noise it makes, but smiles victoriously as her friend climbs into bed with her. “Goodnight, D.”

“‘Night, Janis.”

—————

Things are okay until seventh grade.

Dana’s family adjusted to not having their dad around. It took time, but she and her mom were actually thriving after a few months. D’s mom went back to nursing school and took a job at the hospital, and Dana started a support group composed of kids with absent fathers to help them cope with the new change. Things were weird, but… good. Good weird.

D flipped back and forth every day (and sometimes hour to hour) on how they wanted to be referred to. Some days are she-days and Dana days. Other days are they-days. Janis cackled the first time they referred to these as D-days.

They had one he-day about a month ago just to try it. D was anxious. Janis didn’t mention anything, but it was the happiest she’d seen her friend in a long time.

Regina stopped spending time with Dana. She said they dressed weird and didn’t fit with the group anymore. D actually seemed relieved to be out. Janis was still in, though, and Dana was fine with that.

Until one brisk March morning.

Janis is, as always, the first one at school since both her parents work early mornings. It’s cool but not too cold outside today, so she sits on the concrete steps outside the main doors and sketches out Regina’s birthday card. She’s turning thirteen next month. The party is sure to be a big one. Janis can’t tell if she’s excited or completely dreading it.

She looks up when she hears clicking footsteps on the pavement next to her. Regina is there, surrounded by a flock of the half-popular girls who managed to get into Regina’s good books for today.

“Janis, I just wanted to tell you that I can’t invite you to my birthday party.”

Janis frowns in confusion and tucks her pencil behind her ear. “What? Why? I-I’m your best friend.”

“I can’t invite you because I think you’re a lesbian,” Regina says. “It’s a pool party and there’s gonna be girls there in their bathing suits, I can’t have a lesbian at my party.”

Fuck. Janis knew telling Regina she had a crush on Rapunzel in that new Disney movie would come back to bite her. She feels a burning behind her eyes and bites her lip to stop it trembling. Don’t be a baby. Not now.

“I mean, are you a lesbian?” Regina titters. The girls behind her echo her like some sadistic flock of birds. “What are you?”

Janis feels like she’s going to be sick. Something she’s never felt before is writhing and squirming in her gut. It rises, and rises, and… “I am a space alien and I have four butts!”

Regina blinks at her for a second. Neither of them are quite sure what to make of what Janis just said in earnest. But Regina breaks first. She bursts out into that fakey pretty laugh that’s all she ever does now. Janis scrambles to grab her things and runs into the building, only letting a sob escape as the heavy metal door slams behind her.

She debates running to the office to call home and ask to be picked up. But if she leaves, people will notice. People will ask. People will tell Regina. Regina will win.

She can make it through today. Through this year. It’s already March, she only has about two months left. She can handle that. Even without who she thought was one of her best friends. Forever.

Janis spends the morning hiding in a sneaky corner in the girls’ bathroom, not able to care if she gets marked absent or tardy in her classes. She doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t sketch or play games on her iPod or do anything. She just thinks. Counting off every time the bell rings.

She can hear the rabble outside signaling lunch time. A few girls come into the bathroom to touch up their makeup or hide away from the tempting food they’re trying to avoid even though they’re already pencil thin. None of them see her, but Janis sees them.

“Did you hear about Janis?” one of them asks.

“Regina’s friend?” the other responds, sounding like she’s trying not to touch her lips together as she touches up some gloss.

“Yeah.”

“No, what did she do?”

Janis rolls her eyes. Of course those two-faces immediately assume she’s the one at fault. That she’s done something wrong here. Has she?

“She’s a lesbian.”

“A what?”

“A lesbian. It means she wants to bang other girls,” the first says.

��Gross!” the other groans. “We have to share a bathroom with her!”

“I know! She’s probably been spying on us changing in the locker rooms all this time and we were none the wiser!”

No, I have taste, Riley, Janis thinks to herself. And I don’t even want to bang girls anyway. Well, kiss some, maybe. But everyone wants to do that. Right?

“Someone should tell the principal. She shouldn’t be allowed to be around other girls.”

“Right? It’s so creepy,” the other girl says.

Janis doesn’t come out from her spot until she hears their heels clacking off down the hall and the door slamming shut after them.

She almost doesn’t recognize herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair falls just past her shoulders. Her curls have stretched into more of a loose wave from the damage the bleaching has done to it. Being… forced straight. She looks like a clone of Regina George.

She wants to claw her skin off beneath the pink polyester dress she’s wearing today. It feels like poison against her skin, seeping slowly into her bloodstream. It itches. It hurts.

Does everyone know? Janis asks herself as she splashes some cold water on her face and tries to make herself look tough. Does everyone think… that?

She jumps as someone else comes bursting in. “Janis! Oh, thank god, there you are.”

“D? What are you doing, you’re not-”

“Have you been to your locker?” Dana asks frantically.

“No. I’ve been in here all morning,” Janis says, holding herself protectively and looking down at her ballet flats. Despite all of Regina’s best efforts, she hasn’t gotten the hang of heels yet. Maybe she never will, now.

D looks at her sadly. “You… you should come with me.”

Janis eyes them suspiciously, but does grab her bag and finally leaves the bathroom for the first time that morning. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Dana says with a grim tone. She winds through the hallways until they’re in the science hallway. Janis’ locker is here.

She can spy it from a mile away. The normally blue metal is covered in neon sticky notes. Janis hesitantly steps closer.

The post-its say various things. Go away, dyke and Lesbo and Pervert and Creeper. Some crude drawings scatter the mix, of things Janis doesn’t ever want to know.

They outline something scrawled in Sharpie, directly on the metal. Space Dyke.

Janis could recognize Regina’s handwriting anywhere. That swirly, excessive, frilly cursive. Janis always had a hard time reading it, but she understands this full well.

This time, she can’t bring herself to be strong. The tears start to fall as she slowly picks off every little note stuck to the metal. She knew these people weren’t her friends, but for them to hate her this much…

D stands a few feet behind and watches her, unsure what to do. She isn’t using new pronouns or a different name at school. Everyone thought she and Regina just had a falling out. They’ve never been through something like this themselves.

Janis pulls the last note off with shaking hands and reads it. We know what you are. Leave us alone.

She breaks down sobbing, dropping the notes at her feet and running as fast as she can towards the office.

“Janis!” Dana calls, grabbing their things and running after her.

The secretary looks very concerned as a crying girl comes bursting into the office at high speeds, rapidly followed by someone else.

“I need- my mom,” Janis spits out, trying and failing to breathe through her sobs. The secretary nods and gestures to the phone on the desk for students to use to call home in emergencies.

She passes a box of tissues across the desk as Janis picks up the receiver. Janis takes a few and tries to convey her thanks without speaking, knowing that if she tries she’ll only start crying harder.

Her hands are shaking so hard she misses the first number of the area code. Her knuckles are white around the receiver and she bites her lip to try to force her body to cooperate with her.

D gently takes the phone out of her hand. “Let me call. You sit down.”

Janis wants to protest, but she knows she won’t be able to get across what she needs to in her state. She sits on the itchy seats and tries not to growl at a visitor staring at her. She wipes her eyes with the scratchy tissues. The school doesn’t even have the budget for real Kleenex. The tissues might as well be printer paper for all the good they’re doing for her skin.

“Mrs. Ian? Uh, hi, it’s D. Um, something… something happened at school. Janis is really upset, she needs picked up.” she can almost make out Dana saying over her loud sobbing.

Her mother says something on the other end. D absentmindedly raps their knuckles against the granite of the desktop.

“I don’t really know the whole situation, Mrs. Ian. But it’s bad, from what I’ve seen. She really needs to go home,” Dana continues. “I’ll tell her. Bye.” They turn to see her. “Jan, your mom says she’ll be here for you in fifteen minutes.”

Janis nods and tries to breathe. It doesn’t work. She tries to distract herself from the whirling thoughts inside her head by looking around. Wooden table in the corner. Four chairs. Big windows. It’s nice outside today. That’s where Regina-

She shakes her head to snap herself out of it and looks back to the desk. She jumps when she sees D isn’t there anymore. Her stuff is, but not her.

“Your friend asked to speak to the principal,” the secretary says, coming around the desk to restock Janis’ tissues and give her a bottle of water.

“P-principal?” Janis chokes.

“She said he needed to know something urgent.”

Janis puts her head in her hands. Now she really is going to get kicked out of school. Why would Dana tell on her? Did Janis really manage to lose both of her lifelong best friends in one morning?

She’s just about worked herself to the precipice of another downward spiral when Dana comes back with the principal. “Janis, may I speak to you?”

Janis wants to say no, but she’s probably already in enough trouble. She stands and follows him back to his office. He sits at his desk and motions for her to sit as well. Janis hesitates before sitting down in the cold plastic chair.

“Your friend told me something happened this morning. Can you help me fill in some details?”

Janis shrugs and hugs herself, like if she does it tight enough she might just squeeze herself right out of existence. She sniffles and refuses to look him in the eye.

“Can you tell me your version of events?” he asks. His voice is gentle, but Janis still doesn’t trust it.

“I-I-I was sketching out-outside,” she begins shakily. He has to lean across his desk to hear her soft voice. Janis doesn’t care. “Re-Regina came… and… she said she could-couldn’t have me at-at her birthday party.”

“And that’s why you’re so upset?”

“Be-because she thinks I’m a lesbian.”

She finally dares to glance up and sees the shock written across his face. “O-okay. Please continue.”

“She said there were gonna be girls there in-in their bathing-bathing suits so if-if I’m a lesbian I can’t-can’t come. But I’m not! I-I’m not lesbian, I haven’t been-been watching the other girls! Not-not like that. I swear, please-please don’t kick me out of school!”

“We aren’t kicking you out, Janis, I just need to know what happened so we can figure out the best course of action. This is a very tolerant school, I’m sure you know. Being a lesbian, even if you were, is not valid grounds for expulsion.”

“O-oh,” Janis sniffs. “She… told everyone I am. I thought it was a bad thing.”

“Some people believe it is,” the principal says. “I’m not one of them.”

“Oh,” Janis says again.

“Can you keep going? With what happened?”

Janis nods shakily. “Everyone’s been-been talking about me. Saying I’m a gross lesbian a-and I’ve been peeking on other girls in-in the locker room-rooms. And that I-I want to have… um… with… with-with all of them but I don’t! And-and someone… someone wrote space dyke on my locker.”

“Wrote what now?”

“Space dyke.”

“Why would someone do that?” the principal asks. Janis shrugs.

“Can I- can I go now?”

“Of course. I’ll be speaking to Regina and some of the other girls this afternoon. Is your guardian coming to get you?” he asks. Janis nods. The principal pulls out a notepad and starts writing frantically as Janis turns and leaves.

Her mom is waiting for her in the office with her backpack and the books she can’t fit into the little designer thing. Janis bursts into tears anew and runs in for some much needed comfort.

“Shh, baby girl,” her mother hushes. “Let’s go home and get you calmed down. We can talk about what happened later. It’ll be okay.”

Janis growls in the back of her throat. How can her mother say that when clearly nothing will ever be okay

ever

again.

—————

The next couple years are a blur of traumatic experiences for the both of them.

D finally settled on they/them pronouns and going by D all the time. No more Dana, no more girl. Janis still thinks they’d be happier as a he, but she doesn’t mention it.

D started having panic attacks when they turned thirteen. They got their first period, and their body started changing in ways they weren’t comfortable with. Nobody knew what to do.

Nobody but Janis.

Janis was the only one who could talk them out of their panics. She managed to piece together that D felt like they were running out of time. Neither of them knew what they were running out of time for for a good long while. Until Janis put together that this all started along with puberty.

D was put on hormone blockers a few months later to delay any further development in areas they weren’t ready for. Lo and behold, no more panic attacks.

Janis didn’t have quite as easy of a time finding her solution.

She tried getting in touch with Regina. She texted her desperately saying she wasn’t actually a lesbian and since she wasn’t actually a lesbian she could still be trusted at a pool party.

Regina never answered.

Janis cried the entire day leading up to Regina’s birthday. She was finally deemed old enough for social media that year, and her entire Instagram homepage as far as the eye could see was every other girl getting ready for a party Janis could never go to.

D showed up to rescue her and took her out for ice cream and karaoke. Janis almost managed to forget the party as she begrudgingly belted out Disney songs and listened to D’s one-man performance of Fiddler on the Roof.

But while everyone eventually forgot about the party, nobody forgot about the rumors. Everyone still gossiped about her in the hallways. In the restrooms. Locker rooms. At lunch. In class.

Things escalated after a while. Janis knew Regina was the puppet master behind it all, playing the whole school like her sick little marionettes.

She’d orchestrated some clever story to make herself look like the victim in Janis’ story, so she never had any repercussions for anything. She was free.

Free to tell the football team to use their strength to shove Janis into lockers and trash cans.

Free to tell the other girls to give Janis a wide berth in the hallways and giggle at her clothes behind their hands and hold their breaths as she walked by so they wouldn’t catch anything.

Free to tell the nerdy kids who sat behind her in class to jab her with pencils and rig her books so all the papers would fall out when she picked them up and leave cruel notes slipped through the slats of her locker.

Free to tell anyone who could to re-write space dyke on her locker door whenever the school cleaned it off. Even when Janis got a new locker assignment. Even when she got another. Even when she had to start keeping her books in the office because her having a locker was doing too much damage to school property. They found a way.

Janis couldn’t take it anymore. She started cutting herself over the summer leading to eighth grade.

She knew it was bad. She knew she shouldn’t do it. She knew how it was bound to end. She knew the statistics she had learned in health class in sixth grade.

But she couldn’t stop.

Something about the burn of the blade being dragged through her pale flesh made the thoughts in her head less loud. For a while, all she had to focus on was the glint of the silver metal in her hand. The vibrant, almost glowing, red of her blood against her pallid skin. Watching it flow into the sink or the bathtub and slowly

slowly

stopping.

It hurt so bad she couldn’t think about anything else. She decided the pain was worth it.

She wore long sleeved dresses that went to her knees to hide the marks on her arms and her thighs. When too much scarred over she moved somewhere else. Her stomach, her chest, near her shoulders, her hips.

She was fine.

She stopped eating.

She stopped sleeping.

She lost weight.

She looked tired.

She was tired.

So tired.

She found a bottle of sleeping pills in her mom’s bathroom.

She waited.

She wrote notes.

She looked at the pills.

She waited some more.

She took them all.

Her mom found her.

That scream won’t ever leave either of them.

She spent a week in the hospital.

She got her stomach pumped and her arms stitched up.

She stopped going to school.

She was sent away to an inpatient intensive counseling facility.

She hated it.

But it helped.

When she was deemed to no longer be an active risk to herself, she was sent back home.

The medicine cabinet was empty. The knives were locked in a cabinet she couldn’t reach. She wasn’t allowed to shave her legs anymore. Her dad’s tools were on a high shelf. The door to her bedroom didn’t lock anymore.

Her dad looked at her with disgust in his eyes.

Her mom looked at her with pity in her eyes.

Her sister looked at her with betrayal in her eyes.

Janis still needed help. She was kept out of school for eighth grade and started homeschooling with online tutors. She went to a pediatric therapist specializing in juvenile depression and self-harm.

She discovered art.

She really liked painting.

Watching the paint flow across a canvas was much nicer.

Seeing colors other than red. Other than bright, electric pink.

She didn’t have friends anymore.

Only D.

D was there when she woke up in the hospital. They were there the night before Janis went to inpatient. They came to every visiting session. They cried every time they had to leave.

They screamed at her. How could she do that to herself? Didn’t she think anyone loved her at all? What was she thinking?

Janis cried and screamed right back. Called it healing.

D was there the day she was released to take her home.

D was there to tell her every stupid thing Regina and everyone else got up to at school. Janis didn’t really care. D told her anyway.

In a strange way, they held each other together. Two broken kids patching each other up bit by bit, and swapping little pieces of each other for themselves in the process. Growing together.

And they changed, and they healed.

—-

The real catalyst for everything came when they were thirteen. D finished eighth grade. Janis was in the crowd cheering at the top of her lungs at their graduation. They went out for ice cream with their moms and Janis’ sister on Janis’ last day of homeschool to celebrate.

Their moms posed the idea there.

A local Pride parade was being thrown in a couple of weeks. Their mothers thought going might be a good idea for both of them. Help them realize they aren’t alone.

D agreed to go in a heartbeat. Janis was nervous, wary, but if D was going she just had to. They do everything together. You can’t have one without the other.

They dressed for the heat and packed a bag of stuff they might need. D did some online research first and provided their moms a very helpful list.

“Are you excited?” Janis’ mom asks when they’re on the way.

“Yeah!” D says eagerly. Janis nods and wipes her sweaty hands on her pants. D wore shorts, but Janis still has things she’d prefer to keep hidden.

It takes forever to find a parking spot, and it’s a long walk to their spots to watch the parade. D holds her hand and drags the both of them to the front so they’re close to the road and can see the whole thing.

Janis jumps as a local school’s marching band kicks off and leads the whole thing. It’s loud, and colorful, and bright. People dance on floats and in the street. All sorts of things are thrown at them. Janis catches some things and dodges a few others.

A person in nothing but a tutu and some sort of leather harness comes up to personally deliver them some plastic beads. D happily puts theirs on and almost chokes Janis forcing her into hers.

Janis has never seen so many colors. So many people. People like them. It’s… amazing.

The parade eventually comes to an end, and the crowd watching scatters to find various activities and foods and things for sale. Their moms trust them to walk around on their own, as long as D keeps their phone on. They head for a nearby field and wander aimlessly for a while.

A couple doing the same thing catches their eye. They’re older, maybe in their early thirties. Holding hands. One isn’t wearing a shirt and has visible lines on their chest. The other has bright purple hair, a leather jacket with spikes, big black clunky boots, and heavy, dark makeup.

They notice Janis and D staring at them after a few minutes and come to see what’s up. Purple hair greets them with a, “Hey.” and they both jump.

“Sorry! We-we didn’t mean to stare at you!” D says frantically. They both laugh.

“It’s okay. You get used to it looking like we do.”

“I like your jacket,” Janis says shyly. The person wearing it chuckles. Janis sees she has a pin saying ‘she/her’ on it.

“Thanks. You wanna touch the spikes?” she says. Janis nods eagerly, so the woman crouches down to let her gently run her fingertips over her shoulder.

“Is this your first Pride?” her partner asks. Janis and D nod. “Fun! I was your age when I came the first time.”

“Are you dating?” D asks. They both nod.

“Are you?”

“Eww, no!” D and Janis exclaim at the same time. They laugh again.

“Friends are good too,” the woman chuckles.

D is still looking at her partner. Specifically at their chest. They notice the looks and gently bring it up. “These are my top surgery scars.”

“Top surgery?” D questions.

“I’m trans. I was born female. Or, assigned female at birth, whatever. I had my breasts removed when I was in college and started my transition to help with the dysphoria.”

D tilts their head.

“Dysphoria is… hard to describe. But I couldn’t stand living in a female body. I got really depressed. I probably would’ve… wouldn’t have made it much longer if I hadn’t transitioned.”

“How… how did you know? That you were all the way trans?” D asks softly.

“That’s a good question,” they chuckle. “You can call yourself whatever you want. Being non-binary fits under the trans umbrella. But I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted my future to look like, and my past and what I wished I could change about it.

“I always kinda dreaded the idea of growing up and marrying a man, having kids and being a mom, things like that. I didn’t have any interest in being an aunt or a grandmother or… a woman. So I started thinking, and really liked the idea of marrying a woman if I got the chance, and being a father, or an uncle or grandpa. And I realized most of my memories with the most hurt from my past were moments where I felt… too feminine. Stuck, kinda. You know what I mean?”

D nods shakily. The woman reaches out and squeezes their hand. “You have plenty of time to figure out who you want to be, hon. Take some time to explore. It’s okay to flip flop and change your mind all the time. It took this one more than twenty years to come to terms with who he was. The most important thing you can do is try your damndest to love the person you are enough to grow into the person you want to be. You’ll be just fine.”

D nods again. Janis squeezes their hand too when she sees tears brimming behind their eyes.

“And it seems like you’ve already got one person in your corner,” the man says. “You can’t control what the people around you do. Finding people like your friend here is really important. I lost a lot of people I really cared about, but finding people who love the real me and getting to love my body and who I am is so worth it. I promise.”

D seems too emotional to speak. Nobody asks them to. Everybody understands. Janis looks back to the woman. “How’d you get your makeup like that?”

“Loads of practice,” she snorts. “You like it?”

Janis nods. She’s never seen someone like her before. All the makeup she’s seen has been light and feminine. All she’s been allowed to wear has been pink and natural and dewey and glossy. The woman reaches into her pocket.

“Here. I’ve never used this before. Consider it a… celebration gift. Something to get you started.”

Janis opens the fingers she curled around it and sees a tube of lipstick. She untwists the lid and sees it’s the exact same dark purple color the woman is wearing. “Really?”

“Of course. Happy first Pride, you guys,” the woman says. With a ruffle to their hairs, the couple is off.

Both Janis and Damian are thinking the same thing.

I wanna be them someday.

——————-

D comes out as trans for the second time when he’s 14. They/them pronouns are no more, swapped for he/him. Janis and his mom helped him buy a whole new even more masculine wardrobe. Mostly flannels. Janis got a few too. Sue her, they’re comfy.

He gets a haircut. Nice and short. Just long enough to still curl on the top, but buzzed everywhere else. A boy’s cut.

Janis shaves the side of her head in solidarity. Again, matching enough for them. But shaving her whole head is a bit much, she thinks. He agrees.

He also starts experimenting with new names. He decided to stick with D as his first letter. Darius, Dante, Darcy and Darby all lasted about a week respectively. His mom suggested Darwin, which was scrapped almost immediately.

Janis obviously only suggested the most ridiculous names she could find on baby name websites. Donatello, Delbert, Diesel, Dijon. And, of course, Dick. None of her suggestions were taken.

It took months and probable hundreds of different names before he found the one that stuck.

Damian. With an A, because Damien with an E just has the wrong vibes.

He was Damian.

Janis doesn’t think she ever saw her friend happier than when he finally got to be Damian. He smiles with his eyes again, something Janis hasn’t really seen in almost five years. He dances and sings and found a local theatre troupe to be part of in addition to all the school shows he’s in. He still gets cast as female roles, but he doesn’t seem so bothered by it anymore. Now that he knows he’s Damian, he’s just… pretending. His femininity is more like a costume he can alter to his will.

Janis is glad for him. She still doesn’t know what the fresh hell is going on.

She does think a lot about the woman from the Pride parade. How confident she seemed. How easy it was for her to be her. To be queer. To be happy. She said people stared at her all the time because of the way she dressed and did her hair and makeup. Janis slowly pieces together her own look.

A jacket she found buried in the attic that belonged to her biological father. She left it hanging on her easel in her bedroom when the inspiration hit her and she started painting the jacket itself. Eyeballs, general swatches of nothing, demons and big bright handprints and even Frida Kahlo on her shoulder after one particularly interesting history class.

Piece by piece, brushstroke by brushstroke, the jacket comes together. Becomes… hers.

She buys t-shirts and fishnet tights from Hot Topic with cool designs and bands she’s started listening to. She distresses a few and leaves some plain. She buys denim shorts with spikes on the pockets and gems and frayed hems and puts designs on the backs and so much more.

A hot day comes in the middle of summer. Janis can’t wear the long pants she usually does to hide the pink scars lining her thighs. She panics and putters around her room to find something she can wear to Damian’s first appointment.

She tries a few dresses, but none are long enough. Her shorts are even shorter.

She’s about to give up and call her friend to let him know they’ll have to celebrate another time when her hand wraps around the swirly black tights with a design in lace in her underwear drawer.

She tries them on underneath one of her pairs of shorts. She looks bitchin’. She smiles and grabs a random shirt to go with it and hopes she can make it through the day with her jacket on. Hiding her arms is a whole other monster.

She runs outside when Damian texts her letting her know he and his mom are waiting for her outside. He’s up in the passenger seat, so Janis slides into the back and buckles herself in.

“Hi, sweetie,” Damian’s mom greets.

“Hi, Ms. Hubbard,” Janis says, panting a bit in the heat.

Damian chatters eagerly the whole way about how excited he is to finally start his hormone therapies, even though it means getting frequent shots. He quite literally skips into the doctor’s office once his mom finds a parking spot. Janis doesn’t blame him. It took almost a year before they got the go-ahead to start hormone replacements. Janis did a lot of googling and found Damian was one of the lucky ones. Some people wait decades.

Damian is bouncing in his seat in the waiting room a little bit, like a child who can’t sit still. Janis is a little more concerned about what’s about to happen to her friend, but she smiles at his antics and has to run to keep up with him once he finally gets called back.

The nurse explains roughly what he can expect. To needlephobe Janis, a huge needle going into his poor thigh. But to Damian, it’s everything. Everything begins today. He starts the journey to become who he… is. To get his body to match what they all see him as and what he so desperately wants and needs to be.

Damian’s entire future is contained in such a small vial. The nurse distracts him as she prepares the needle and the area it’s going into by talking about what he can expect.

Soreness in his leg, obviously. She tells him it will take a while, but his voice will eventually start getting lower. He won’t have to force it artificially anymore. His body fat will rearrange slightly, again, over a very long period of time. He might even grow facial hair after a few months.

Janis wonders how long it will take. How worth it this will all feel after three months, six, twelve. But Janis has also seen the hurt her friend has been through. How much he struggled and suffered as a girl. How much pain it brought him.

She holds hand and his mom holds the other as the needle goes in. Damian’s face pinches briefly at the poke going into his leg, but he looks… relieved. After a single dose he looks like he could get hit by a bus in the parking lot and die a happy man.

He’s patched up with a bandage and quite literally dances his way out of the establishment. Janis rolls her eyes affectionately and follows after him. His mom stays to get all the information she still needs before rushing to the parking lot after her stray children.

“How you feeling, hon?” she asks as she slides into the driver’s seat.

“Amazing!” Damian says.

“That needle was huge,” Janis says, shuddering at the memory. It didn’t even go into her.

“I didn’t look at it for a reason,” Damian replies.

“Y’all want ice cream?” his mom asks.

Damian shouts, “Yes!” so loud Janis’ eardrums rattle.

—————

Janis goes back to public school in ninth grade.

It’s a new school, they’re in high school now. A new building. New faculty, some new students. Some old ones too, but she’s hoping either she’s changed or they’ve changed enough that the year will still go okay. Her goal is a month. Anything beyond that is a bonus.

It’s a new start.

It’s a nice feeling.

She dons her new favorite outfit, fishnet tights underneath a dress she painted a design on yesterday to get ready for her first day. She adds her new denim jacket. She started painting it, but it’s still not as busy as she wants it to be. It just needs a little work.

Her mom drives her since it’s her first day. They stop by to pick up Damian on the way, and he comes prancing down the driveway in all his flamboyant glory.

His fashion sense actually hasn’t changed all that much since he started physically transitioning. He still wears lots of rainbows, theatre stars, and drag queens on his clothes, they’ve just gotten the more recent additions of flannels and jeans actually purchased from the men’s section. The drag queens are newer too. Damian made Janis watch the entire first season of RuPaul’s Drag Race at their most recent sleepover. Janis still sees all the sequins whenever she closes her eyes.

Janis’ hands start to shake as soon as she sees the building. She’s been here for orientation and a special event just for incoming freshmen that the seniors put on, but knowing she’s here now for school… it’s different. Knowing there’ll be kids who know her there. Who knew the old Janis.

She’d like to say she’s a whole new person now. But the truth is, under all her new makeup and the dark roots of her hair that are finally starting to show through the bleach-blonde and her huge jacket is the same petrified little girl in a pink dress that left that day in seventh grade and never came back.

She’s literally shaking in her boots as she pauses outside the main doors. Damian squeezes her hand.

“We’ll be okay,” he says softly. We. They’re doing it together. Janis nods and pushes her way in.

Janis had to come one extra time to get to know the people in the guidance office after they saw her medical history and learned about the two months she spent as an inpatient. They worked some of their guidance counselor magic and got her and Damian the same schedule, and made sure she didn’t have a single class with Regina. They couldn’t do anything about lunch, but Janis isn’t worried too much about that. The cafeteria is big. She’ll find somewhere to hide.

Damian goes to his locker first since it’s a little bit closer to the front of the school. He dumps his binders for the afternoon inside before following Janis as she tries to remember where her locker is.

She pauses as she sees it. They haven’t even been in the building for twenty minutes and her locker already says space dyke in bold, black Sharpie. God, why couldn’t people just forget?

It’s not Regina’s handwriting this time. Someone else did it. Maybe Regina moved on. Found someone else to torment. Maybe this is the work of someone else.

Don’t get your hopes up.

She sighs and shakes it off as best she can. Her books for the afternoon get shoved in unceremoniously and she follows Damian, slightly slower than they were going before, to their first period study hall.

“You okay?” he asks gently. Janis nods and kicks a pebble someone dragged in to the side of the hallway.

“Yeah. She doesn’t scare me anymore.”

Damian nods too. “Tell me if anyone bothers you.”

“You’re not my big brother, Dame, I don’t need you to protect me,” Janis sighs.

“Oh, bitch, are you kidding? I could never, look at me,” Damian retorts. “But if you need me to tell someone. I will.”

Janis nods, more an involuntary jerk of her head than much else. “I will.”

Damian blessedly drops the conversation as he holds the door to their classroom and sits next to Janis at their desks.

—-

Things don’t fall apart until lunch.

She and Damian find part of a table in the furthest corner, blocked in by some juniors and seniors. They look at them oddly, for more than one reason, but there’s a group that seems to realize these kids need to be where they are and willingly sit close. Janis hopes everyone in their grade is that mature by the time they’re juniors too.

They start to relax. Lose some of their hyper vigilance they haven’t noticed they’ve been holding all day.

And then people around them start chattering.

One by one, like they’re doing the wave at a sports event. It picks up volume, louder and louder… and then Regina is behind her.

“Janis? Oh my god, is that you?”

Janis bristles. Feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up like she’s just walked into a haunted house. She turns around just enough in her spot so Regina is in her line of sight, but not enough to make her vulnerable to any kind of attack. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing over here, come sit with us. We got the good table in the middle,” Regina says. Janis… laughs.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“We haven’t talked in a year and a half, is what!” Janis cackles. “You ran me out of school!”

“You totally overreacted, it was not that bad, come on,” Regina huffs.

Janis can’t believe what she’s doing as she rolls up her jacket sleeves. Regina bristles and stares at the still bright pink marks lining up and down Janis’ forearms. That’s not even close to half of them. “Wasn’t it?”

Regina recoils in disgust. “On second thought, stay here. Freak.”

Janis sighs and sits back down, picking at her rubbery pizza and trying to ignore every single person in the vicinity staring at her.

Part of her wants to stand on the table and yell. Say so what if I used to cut myself? Say you’d do the same if only you knew what she did to me. Stomp and scream and rule the school.

Another part of her almost said yes to Regina.

And Janis is violently thrown back in time.

Back to seventh grade. Before her life fell apart.

Blonde waves falling down her shoulders. Pink dresses and glittery makeup and lip gloss and too much perfume.

Following Regina around like a lost puppy. Carrying her books. Doing her bidding.

Falling head over heels for that blonde girl who somehow had her pinned under her heel and wrapped around her little finger at the same time.

She can’t stomach anymore.

Regina

was

right.

—————

Janis stumbles around until the end of the day when it’s time to be picked up. She tries not to stare at every girl she sees.

She takes quick glances. Compares them to the boys in her classes. Who would she rather date? Rather kiss? Rather hug and cuddle and- well.

She comes to a rather hasty conclusion. Boys are still gross.

She’d thought, being the mature age of fourteen, that she would’ve gotten over not wanting to be with a boy. Apparently not.

She consults Damian in art.

“Do you still like boys now that you’re a boy? Or do you like girls?”

“I dunno,” Damian shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Janis hasn’t either. She started to, she did. Back when Regina first did everything in middle school. Janis definitely had a lot to think about. But she was hurt, and then spent all that time in therapy and decided to put it off until she was better suited to handle such thoughts.

Nice going, dumbass, now what the hell are you?

“I think… I might actually like girls.”

Damian nods and pokes at his lump of clay he’s trying desperately to form into an ashtray. “That’s cool.”

“It is not cool! That means Regina was right all along!”

“So?” Damian shrugs. “She wasn’t right about everything. Like her hair color. Ew.”

“She’s blonde, what do you mean? You know what, never mind.”

Damian just shrugs again. “It’s not a bad thing if you are. Don’t let Regina scare you out of it if you think it’s actually who you are.”

Janis sighs and goes back to her painting. She has a lot to think about.

—-

And think she does. The next month is spent researching and looking and comparing and testing and everything she can think to do.

She still doesn’t want it to be true, but the more she finds, the more lesbian feels like the right label. She’s still not sure, though.

One thing is definitely true, however, and that is that she likes girls. Even the girl she hates most in the entire world seems… like she’d be a good kisser. Gross.

Now she has to tell people.

It’s what Damian did. He realized something, and told his family. It’s how it goes. This isn’t something she can just keep to herself.

She sits her mom and stepdad down on the couch after dinner that night. Julie’s in her room playing before bed. She can come later. Janis still doesn’t know how to explain this in a way she’d understand.

“What’s up, sweet pea?” her mother asks kindly. Janis fidgets with her hands and looks down.

“I… I think… Regina might have been right,” she mumbles.

“About what?”

“I like girls,” Janis says in one quick breath, forcing herself to look up at them. She can see the shock strewn across their faces.

“You’re a dyke?” her father asks. Janis freezes.

“Greg!” her mother chides. “Don’t call her that!”

“What, I can’t call it like it is? We’ve raised a dyke, Ettie! Look at her,” her dad insists. Janis looks desperately at her mother.

“We have raised a girl who likes other girls and nothing more,” her mother growls, standing and stalking over her dad. “Now you leave her alone.”

“Or what?” her father retaliates.

“Stop it,” Janis begs around a sob. “I-I’m sorry, I-I-I won’t-”

“You’ll shut your trap is what you’ll do,” her dad growls. “And you’ll get out of my house.”

“This house is in my name, you ass,” her mother retaliates. “If anyone is leaving, it’s you. I’m not letting you speak to our child this way.”

“I’m talking to her the way she needs to be talked to. Do you want her corrupting Julie?!”

“She’s barely a teenager! She can’t corrupt anyone, she’s not doing anything wrong!”

“Daddy, please,” Janis begs.

“Don’t you go calling me that now. I clearly didn’t do enough. I’m not your dad anymore.”

“Get. Out.” her mom growls furiously.

“I’m taking Julie,” her dad insists as he stalks off to pack a few things.

“Like hell you are!” her mom says.

“This is your fault, you little freak,” her dad says, pointing a rough finger into Janis’ chest. Janis sobs and tries to step away. Her dad looks at her for a second. Time moves in slow motion.

He growls, lifts a hand. Brings it down across Janis’ face with as much force as he can muster. Janis gasps as she hears the impact. The pain takes a few seconds to hit her. The hit was hard enough to numb the sensation for the briefest of moments.

She wails when it does and steps away. She wants to run, but she can’t leave her mom alone with this man who used to call Janis his daughter.

Her mom swings without hesitation. Evidently she can handle herself just fine.

“Have you gone crazy, woman?!” her dad yells. “Goddamn!”

“I told you to get out,” her mom says. “You’ll get a second black eye to match that one if you stick around.”

Her dad spits on the ground near where Janis is cowering before he stalks off without another word or any of his things and slams the front door behind him.

“Oh, baby girl,” her mom hums desperately, rushing to pull Janis into her arms. Janis tries to be strong for her mom, who seems to have just lost her husband for good, but all she can bring herself to do is cling to her mom and cry into her shoulder like a broken child.

Broken child.

That’s all she is.

“Should I call Damian’s mom?”

Janis can only nod.

—————

Janis doesn’t come out to anyone else until she’s almost seventeen.

Nearly three years spent trying to crush down and destroy any feelings she has for any girl is miserable.

But she can’t lose anyone else.

Damian sees the way she looks at some of their classmates. At Regina.

He knows. Janis doesn’t tell him, but he knows.

In the time since Janis’ latest incident, he’s come out as gay, too. He said an experience at his arts camp the summer before their sophomore year confirmed the entire thing.

Janis consoling him after Philip cruelly rejects his Edible Arrangement just feels like par for the course for the both of them at this point.

They both know. They don’t ask. They don’t tell.

They can’t.

—————-

Junior year is almost too much for the both of them.

It starts out so strong. A few really good days without a single taunt from Regina. Enough for them to hope she’s finally given up some of her grip on the school, eased off on her reign of terror.

And then

comes

Cady.

Some part of Janis deep, deep down inside knows she’s going to be an issue.

Damian knows Janis is in love as soon as he sees the little redhead in the bathroom stall and the way Janis looks at her.

Some part of both of them knows this won’t end without heartbreak.

They’re right.

Things start falling apart spectacularly before they even reach winter break. Janis’ plan to have a sneaky spy infiltrate the Plastics and report back has completely backfired. By spring, Cady’s totally brainwashed. Lost. Hypnotized by the pink sequins and popularity.

Janis hasn’t cried this hard since seventh grade. Not even when her stepdad left.

Damian holds her together with one hand and putters the Jazzy home with the other. Well, technically he drives to his house. But it’s always felt like a second home to Janis.

His mom gives her a good squeeze and gentle advice before shooing them up to Damian’s room with the promise of milkshakes to help lift their spirits a little.

Janis disassociates and sips at her cookies and cream milkshake all through Mulan. She’s lost track of how many times she’s done exactly this. Sat cuddled under bed covers with Damian and watched this exact movie on this ancient laptop. In all their various forms over the years.

She cries some more when the movie ends and she doesn’t have anything to distract her from her sadistic thoughts.

Damian holds her close. He cries a little too. They talk. Damian refuses to let her sleep in the sleeping bag on the floor in her state and aggressively spoons her until they both drift off dreaming of happier times.

And those times do come.

The clouds part.

So does Regina’s spine.

It helps, but not as much as Janis thought it would.

The biggest change is Cady. She comes storming into the gym at Spring Fling in her Mathletes uniform and Janis knows in that moment that Cady has her heart and Janis would happily break it for her.

Janis stares as Cady wins Spring Fling Queen and holds that stupid plastic crown in her hands and gives the most beautiful speech she’s ever heard. Damian gasps behind her as she snaps the crown into as many pieces as she can and tosses them to anyone within reach. Regina, Gretchen, Karen, even Kevin. Damian gets one.

And then Cady is in front of her. The last piece is still in her hands. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Janis says, her chest aching. Cady reaches up on her tippy toes and puts the rest of the crown on Janis’ head. Janis flashes back to ten years ago. Playing princess with Damian.

It feels even more real now.

Cady apologizes. They dance. They leave early and go get pancakes. They cry and apologize some more.

And for the first time since September, Janis has hope for her future.

—————

Janis still thinks about those moments well into her adulthood. She doesn’t know that she’ll ever stop. That the moments will ever leave her.

She doesn’t know that she wants them to.

She and Cady get married when they’re 23. Damian finally gets his top surgery later that year, and has two of his favorite people there to support him through his recovery.

Cady is the one who goes with him to finally get his name and gender changed on all his important documents. She throws a party when it’s all over, a sort of late ‘gender reveal’ with a blue cake and confetti and streamers.

Aaron comes.

He and Damian get together when they’re 24. It’s a beautifully ironic thing, that Janis and Damian wound up with who they did instead of it being the two of them like it always was and Cady and Aaron together.

Cady and Janis become mothers when they’re 28.

Damian is the best uncle to their twins. Janis doesn’t know that she’s seen him happier than when he’s cuddling with his boyfriend and his nieces.

The girls are flower girls in his and Aaron’s wedding.

Damian and Aaron adopt three children when they’re 36.

They celebrate Pride as one huge family. The kids all love the parade and seeing other kids from queer families they can play with. Seeing other people like themselves.

Cady takes the twins to a craft setup for younger kids. Damian’s youngest goes with them while the oldest two follow Aaron to get food. Janis and Damian are left wandering around on their own for a little while.

Damian taps Janis and points surreptitiously at some kids staring at them. Janis smiles widely and follows him over to them. They crouch down to their height.

“Hi,” Damian greets kindly. “What are your names?”

Janis knows in that moment.

They made it.

—————

thank you for reading!!

i think i would be remiss if i posted this without acknowledging that our trans and non-binary siblings are under attack in my country right now. there is no LGB without the T and if you think otherwise. piss off. if you can do anything at all, please look into how to support queer communities in your local area.

also, while i am non-binary, i don’t ID as trans. i based this off of some of my own experiences and those of a few of my trans friends i’ve been blessed to witness over the years. and also just… what i think it was like for these two growing up. it’s my own personal headcanon. if your journey was different, that’s okay. if your destination is different, that’s okay. queer people are not a monolith. we’re all walking this rainbow road together, but we’re all our own folks.

anyway. rambling over lol, happy pride and thank you again for reading!!

lots of love,

ezzy

#platonic soulmates #janis sarkisian & damian hubbard #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #mean girls #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

#bnha 314 #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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wichitalk · 2 years

Text

hello welcome to my first c/w fic i am putting on the internet. this is like the first time ive put writing on the internet since like... early 2021 when i stopped using ao3 so be patient here lol i do not know what im doing

@ghostdragoncookieokie :333 i hope u enjoy!!!

here is my c/w masterpost for those unfamiliar!!

casper is like 18~ maybe 18 1/2 in this part of the story, post c/w running away

tws: panic attack, implied mania (outside character), suicide mention????? its a joke in the story LMAO

Tears filled Casper’s eyes as he rounded corner after corner after corner of the empty building, not knowing were he was going (did he ever now?) but needing the movement anyway.

Will’s brain was going off again, as it frequently did nowadays. It was like it was metaphorically soaked in gasoline, and everyone around them seemed to carry and endless supply of matches. Any word or action or movement had the capacity to set him off, which did not strike him into common favor (could casper even blame them? Casper didn’t think there was a single thing that could make him dislike Will).

For the first time in what must have been years Will’s brain had turned on Casper, and he was everything but aggressive with the other man every encounter they had. Will’s guard was up, Casper knew him too well to not notice that, and the tone he used was flat and sharp at the edges, a far cry from Will’s normal soft and sparky voice Casper knew better than his own.

He shouldn’t be upset about this, he didn’t even think he had the right to be upset about this. It wasn’t Will’s fault, (none of this was Will’s fault.), but it was hard to deny the pain that Will’s fear towards Casper had caused.

Casper sharply turned yet another corner, walking faster than he reasonably should when his eyes are filled with tears and he is clearly not in his proper state of mind. His thoughts about Will screeched to a halt, however, when he came crashing into someone. The only thing Casper noticed as him and the other man toppled to the hard tile floor is that he was very small compared to Casper (probably in general? Casper did not think of himself as that tall but his perspective may be biased, as Will was almost freakishly tall).

The man yelped and scrambled away from Casper, boots slipping and squeaking on the ground. Casper also gasped in surprise, but he just let himself fall naturally. When he got his bearings he looked over at the other man, who had an unreadable expression on his face. He tried to match a name to the mans very unique appearance. The mismatched cat ears, pink and black hair, one goat eye, one cat eye, and large butterfly wings. Casper was positive there should be a name Casper remembers to match to the man. But they had likely met long ago, months or possibly over a year.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” As the man spoke, Casper finally clicked a name into place. This was Juicebox, he had met Casper and Will when they first came to the city, and joined their small group of people.

“No I’m sorry, it’s uh, it’s really my fault. I should have been looking where I was going.” Casper mumbled. He was only half sure he even said the words at all, they felt scrambled coming out.

Casper reached up to his face, violently rubbing his eyes in an attempt to dissipate the red wetness that made his predicament all but evident.

“It’s Casper, right?”

“Uhm, yeah. Juice?”

Juice nodded. “Are… are you alright?”

Casper paused. The very obvious answer was no, I am not doing alright. Someone who means everything to me is spiraling in ways I never expected and I don’t know how to possibly deal with it or help him or help myself or help anyone. But he didn’t know Juice well enough to say that, he wouldn’t even tell Will that. So he would have to lie, he knew. He also knew he didn’t know Juice well enough to lie well.

“Yeah I’m alright.” Simple, easy, the words rolled right off his tongue.

“Sorry… but you really don’t seem alright.”

Casper says nothing to that. I mean, what is there to say. He’s right. He doesn’t seem alright, he is not alright. He keeps his face neutral, hopefully.

Juice speaks again. “You’re like… shaking. Pretty violently.”

“Uh. Yeah I do that sometimes. It’s fine.” Jesus, what an incredibly stupid thing to say. Right, sure, he just shakes and cries sometimes while pacing around abandoned halls. Seems like a normal thing to do.

“Uhm, okay. Maybe you should get that checked out?” Juice was very clearly confused (worried?).

Casper wanted to kill himself.

“Erm, yeah. Maybe. I’m going to, I’m going to go. Sorry again.”

Before Juice could press the issue further, Casper hurriedly rose to his feet, almost falling over in the process. Juice noticed that he looked incredibly unstable while upright, looking like even the slightest breeze could completely crumple him. (Good thing they are inside, Juice supposes.) Casper begins walking very quickly away from Juice, hands shoved violently in his pockets and body hunched over.

Juice sincerely hopes he does not have the misfortune to trip, with his hands in his pockets that would suck a lot, and it seems he is going through enough as is without also having to cope with a broken nose. Hopefully, Juice will see him around again soon, and maybe next time Juice could do something to help. Casper hoped for almost the direct opposite.

#wilbur.txt #c/w #oc #original character #oirginal writing #writer

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glytchfic · 3 years

Text

We started as a spark. PART 1.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Hellooo guys! So i’m back for the official Part 1. I’m glad so many of you enjoyed the Prologue, it’s really appreciated. I don’t know at what frequency exactly i’ll be able to upload because i’m in college - you know the drill with college lol fml - and i’ll probably get busier and busier as the week goes by, but i’ll keep you posted as much as i can! As usual, if you have any criticism or anything, just let me know.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings, i’ll probably add more as i go: slow burn, foul language.

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma & Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

I hear a knock on the door and I open my eyes a little bit. I turn around, hide under my blanket and close my eyes again. I can feel myself dozing off again and I hear another knock, louder this time. After a sign of despair, I get up and stumble to my front door, not entirely awake yet. I open it and see a red-haired man walking right through it. I groan. Here comes the legendary Steve Agee with his early morning attitude.

‘I’ve been waiting for 15 minutes downstairs.’

‘How come Richard let you through?’

‘The man at the lobby? I told him your darkest deepest secret to prove I knew you and he let me through. Now get dressed, we’re gonna be late.’ Steve commands.

‘Late for what?’ I ask, apparently confused.

He frowns at me and tilts his head a bit. After a couple of seconds, it hit me.

‘Aw fuck the table read!’ I scream as I run to my room.

‘Nice PJ by the way.’

I mutter a ‘Fuck you’ under my breath as I search for something decent to wear to our first table read. I put on something quite simple – black leggings and a white T-shirt – and grab my phone on my bedside table. One text from my mom, eight missed calls from Steve and one text from – oh my god – David.

‘I reserved a seat for you and Steve right next to me. You’re welcome.’

I can’t help but smile. I first met David a month ago when James – James Gunn – decided to organize something at his place so the crew could get to know each other. To my biggest surprise, David and I hit it off immediately. But if I’m being honest with myself, it does not help the huge attraction I have for him.

‘Are you coming or not?’ Steve yells while jingling his car keys.

‘Oh my god, I hope you got us coffee before you got here because you’re insufferable right now!’ I yell back.

I take a sip of my coffee as I look out through the window.

‘Sorry for making us late.’ I say calmer than earlier.

‘Don’t you have an assistant to help you keep track of all that?’ Steve points out.

‘Yep. Might fire him.’

Steve parks the car and I get out of it, coffee in hand. I gaze at the building, and I see the Warner Bros logo at the top of it. I look at my phone and see we’re only ten minutes late, which is not so bad. Chances are we’re not gonna be the only ones late. We enter the building and I follow Steve, who knows this place much better than I do. We arrive in front of door 171 and he opens it for me like the gentlemen that he is. With a loud bang, the door closes behind us and everybody turns around to stare at us.

‘Hey.’ I say with an apologetic tone.

‘Have you, at least, brought coffee for everyone?’ James chuckles.

I mouth a sincere ‘Sorry’ as I look around for my place. I see David in the corner waving at me and Steve. He smiles at me as I sit next to him, and I can feel my face getting a little bit hotter. I really need to calm down. I can’t let him have this much effect on me.

‘Did you get lost?’ he whispers to me.

‘Worse than that. I forgot.’ I whisper back and he chuckles a bit.

He hands me a copy of the script and we finally begin our first table read for The Suicide Squad. James shares with us his thoughts about most parts of the movie, some information we need to know about the underlying messages and all the important dates we need to know about the productions. After a few hours of reading and re-reading some parts, we leave the room and the first I do is lean against the wall in the corridor, holding my rumbling stomach.

‘Are you pregnant or something?’ Steve said in his mocking tone.

‘Fuck off, Steve.’

He laughs. Being very vocal about not wanting kids, he knows it annoys the shit out of me when he makes those kinds of comments. But since I’ve known him for years and we became good friends, it just became – in a way – a running gag between us. And maybe because most of my attempts at the relationship thing failed because of the baby thing and he knows all about it. He’s an asshole and I love him for that.

‘All jokes aside, wanna grab a bite? You look like shit.’

‘You look like shit.’ I smile at him, and he smiles back, ‘but yeah, we should. Coffee only diet is not good.’

‘Wait here. I’ll ask David if he wants to come with us.’

Hearing his name makes me a bit weak. I see Steve walking away from me to join another group of the crew a bit farther in the corridor. I lean my head against the wall, and I close my eyes. I’ve only seen David face to face a few times this last month – and never completely alone – so I’m not really used to having him around me yet. Our brand-new friendship mainly developed from the fact that we realized from the get-go we had a lot of things in common and we shared those interests via text messages. You know, Youtube videos and memes as any friends would do. Let’s put the emphasis on the word friends here since, you know, we’re gonna be weeks long together filming and stuff.

‘Well, hello Clarice.’

I smirk at the nickname and open my eyes to see David looking at me with a grin. Since he’s learned that I’m a huge fan of The Silence of the Lambs - and of horror movies in general – he's been calling me Clarice or Miss Sterling from time to time.

‘Doctor Lecter.’ I say as professionally as possible which makes both of us laugh.

‘Stop playing around kids, I’m hungry let’s go!’ Steve exclaims.

‘Uh-huh, I can’t agree with that, I’m sorry but -’ I say while chewing on my burger.

‘Oh my god, really?’ David replies, interrupting me.

‘Let me explain,’’ I swallow my bite and wave at them to calm down before I continue, ‘look, I do think George Lucas was right to change a few things about his original Star Wars movies since we do have better VFX and CGI for it now. It doesn’t change anything story wise so who cares?’

‘Unbelievable.’ David simply said under his breath.

‘Okay, that’s enough. I don’t care, I’m gonna say it: I’m ashamed to be your friend.’ Steve dead-pan comments.

‘I have every right to say it and I’m gonna say it goddamn it! George was right!’ I exclaim.

Both take their faces in their own hands, and I can’t help but chuckle as a sip my milkshake. There’s nothing like creating pure chaos with Star Wars fans. I let them try to explain to me how wrong I was, and I continue eating, amuse. As I am looking at Steve explaining a deep theory about the Star Wars universe, I see from the corner of my eyes that David is glancing at me. I subtly look in his direction and he immediately turn his stare away when our eyes connect. I smirk and turn my attention back to Steve.

‘So, anyway, that’s why you’re wrong.’ Steve says as a matter of fact.

‘Sure buddy.’ I laugh.

Steve rolls his eyes and looks at his phone. He sighs, gets up and puts some cash money on the table.

‘Gotta go. I have a meeting with some friends for a photography session. You guys have fun.’

We wave him goodbye and in just a few seconds, he was gone. I turn my attention to David, and it hit me. It’s officially the first time we’re completely alone. Completely, not really, we’re still in a public place but there’s no Steve or no James to keep the conversation going. I’ve never struggled with small talk or any talking really, but somehow, it’s the first time in my entire life where I’m legitimately concerned about me not knowing what to say or what to do.

‘I didn’t know you were such a drama queen about Star Wars’ I say to David, trying to mock him a bit.

‘I thought they were called public nuisance now?’

I let out a sincere laugh, ‘In no way whatsoever you could be a public nuisance.’

‘I will take that as a compliment’ he says with a lovely smile.

Fuck, this friendship is gonna be hard to deal with.

#we started as a spark #part 1 #david dastmalchian #david dastmalchian x reader #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader #fanfiction #x reader

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years

Text

Glide (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: hello :3 here we have another song fanfiction whoohoo- uhm Glide (by Lxandra) don't expect too much haha.. its angsty i guess lol :7 oh and its really long-

summary: I am really bad at this holy shit.. I guess its about the “"relationship” between you and Miss Venable (relationship is a weird word-)

warnings: alcohol, talking about depression and suicide (but nobody's actually depressed), notes of sex

google translate :’D

"So, Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon finally said as he stepped around the table to stand in front of you.

"After telling me about your homosexuality, I would like to know if you are currently in love?"

You narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Is this the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about our high school crushes?"

"Answer. My. Question.", the Man growled.

"Okay okay," you muttered quickly. "Uhm, well let me think about it for a minute."

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

It all started when Miss Venable heard you scream one night.

You had been at Outpost 3 for a few months at this point and in all that time you hadn't spoken a lot and spent the entire time in your room except for meals.

The others didn't know much about you. They knew, you were one of the youngest residents of the Outpost and that you had left your family behind. And of course they knew your name. But that was all.

You spent a lot of time thinking about your family. Your relationship with your parents wasn't ideal, but you still missed them. And if you had known a year ago where you were today, you would have done a few things differently. Celebrating Christmas with them one last time, vacationing with them, simply spending the time peacefully with them instead of arguing.

Usually you cried quietly to yourself, with your head buried under your pillow, hoping, that everyone would forget you existed, but crying wasn't enough tonight and after dinner you snuck into the kitchen to steal a bottle of the red wine, that you smuggled into your room afterwards.

It was now 1 a.m., the bottle was almost empty, and hours ago you had started tossing the items you had in your room. Your clothes were scattered on the floor, while you had tossed the boring books from the library against the wall. Your bed was a complete disaster and in all your anger you had torn the sheets. There were red wine stains on your pillows, which had almost slipped into the blazing fire of the fireplace after you tossed them off the bed.

And now all you could do was scream.

"Fuck you!" You shouted as you staggered in the room with the alcohol in one hand.

"Fuck you all! Fuck this apocalypse, fuck this outpost, fuck-"

"Miss Y / L / N" interrupted you a loud voice behind you and made you turn around.

Miss Venable was standing in the doorway in front of the locked door, staring at you in confusion.

"Ever heard of knocking?" You grumbled and hid the bottle behind your back.

"I knocked," Miss Venable hissed, her gaze wandering angrily over your chaos.

"And if you hadn't screamed so loud, you would probably have heard it. What the fuck do you think of making such a noise here at night? Stealing alcohol as well?"

"I uh- caught," you muttered as you put the bottle on the round table in front of you.

"Do you know what's really funny? We don't have anything to eat, but there is no end of alcohol. Whoever came up with that must be pretty stupid."

"It was my idea. I am in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Oh right," you sighed and slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand.

"Shit, well, i'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"You forgot my name?" Asked Miss Venable sharply with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," you muttered before collapsing onto your messy bed.

"But I know it was something weird."

Miss Venable glared at you, which of course you couldn't see because you were buried with your face in your blanket.

"Hopefully you realize this will be punished," she growled.

"Oh suck my dick", you grumbled. "You enjoy punishing others, don't you? You are a little psychopath"

You laughed softly into your blanket and noticed how you became more and more sleepy. You almost fell asleep if Miss Venable hadn't tapped her stick loudly on the floor.

"You will start cleaning up here immediately, otherwise it will be the last night you spend in this outpost."

"Oh shut up. You are totally mean to me," you moaned and pouted at the angry woman.

"Why are everyone always so mean to me? I haven't done anything wrong."

You got up on shaky legs to walk past her to the door, but you tripped and fell against Miss Venable.

"Wow," you mumbled as you stared into her brown eyes with your glassy ones and grabbed hold of her hips.

"I may not know your name, but I know, that you are really pretty"

"What the fuck is wrong withyou ?! "

Wilhemina pushed you away from her so that you stumbled backwards and landed on the floor.

You stared out at her with hurt eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

"I didn't do anything," you yelled at Miss Venable, who was still leaning on her stick in front of you.

"It's not my fault, that you're beautiful. Be happy, others are ugly."

"That's enough," growled Miss Venable as she took a step towards you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

"You're going to bed now."

"I'll do nothing," you mumbled and tried to pull yourself out of her grip, but you were way too drunk to use enough strength and she could push you like a doll on the bed.

You laughed again.

"Guess what, my bed is big enough for both of us, isn't that funny?"

You looked up at her playfully, or at least you tried.

"You beautiful woman. We-"

"Your behavior is disgusting," she interrupted as she leaned over to grab your chin. Immediately you fell silent.

"And my name is Miss Venable."

She looked down at you dangerously and you saw fire in her eyes when you started laughing out loud.

"Haha Miss Venable, I told you it was something weird," you shouted before you started screaming out loud.

"Miss Venable is beautiful whohoo. Can you all hear me? Miss Venable is beautiful. She-"

"What the hell", Miss Venable cut you off again and took her hand from your jaw to put it on your mouth.

"Are you going to be quiet at last?"

"M'sorry," you hummed against her hand and Miss Venable could see from the wrinkles around your eyes, that you were grinning under her hand.

"I want you to go to sleep now and clean up the chaos here tomorrow, do you understand me?" She asked in a sharp voice. But you just glared at her and wanted to bite her hand when she repeated her question.

"Do you understand me?" She barked louder and this time you nodded quickly.

"Good," she said happily as she took her hand from your mouth and straightened up again.

"Fuck you," you mumbled quietly and watched unhappily as the woman went to the sofa across from the fireplace and sat on it.

"Can't you just go?" You moaned as she leaned her cane against the edge of the sofa.

"Oh I'll go," she replied while staring into the fire.

"When you fell asleep."

You groan in annoyance.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh come on," you sighed and pulled your blanket over your head so she couldn't see you.

It was actually your plan to wait for her to go away, but at some point (who knows how much time had passed) you actually fell asleep.

Living my life in a bubble

Sometimes reality's too much for me

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Your love it gets me into trouble

Sometimes your gravity's too much for me

(It gets me weak in the knees)

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

A week had passed and not much had happened. The next morning you woke up alone and with a big hangover and barely remembering what had happened the previous evening. Miss Venable had forced you to clean up the mess in your room after she had punished you for stealing the alcohol and as attractive as this woman was, she seemed genuinely angry about what had happened, even though it was actually nothing special. At least that's what you thought, but you couldn't remember either.

The world had ended and her problem was, that you had stolen a bottle of wine and ravaged your room. You wondered how fucked up her life must have been before the apocalypse, if that bothered her. And she wasn't the only one you wondered about.

The other residents of the outpost were all disgusting.

"Why do we have to eat this shit?"

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Why is life so unfair and let me be here with you idiots?"

You hate those ungrateful assholes. Everyone was dead and their only problem was, that they were still alive.

Other people deserved it so much more and the fact that mankind's only hope was in these conceited, stupid assholes seemed like a joke.

When you lay in bed that day and stared lost at the ceiling, you had lost all reference to reality. You didn't know what day it was or what month you were in. You also didn't know whether the last meal you ate was lunch or dinner, although a glance at the clock would have been enough. But you got tired of staring at the clock and watching the second hand, hoping something would happen.

Nothing changed anyway. And all you felt was that big feeling of loneliness that completely filled you. You were a very emotional person and all you wanted was someone who was normal. But everybody in this outpost was a huge disappointment. Conceited assholes, intimidated Grays and Miss Venable, who enjoyed punishing people.

Probably you would have started talking to yourself, but thank god you weren't there yet.

Sometimes you thought, it might be easier, if you opened up to others. But your body had become like a prison and you kept every thought trapped deep inside you because it did not match those of the others. Stupid assholes.

And while you continued to sink into your self-pity, you would probably have fallen asleep, if you hadn't been bothered by the sudden knock on your door.

"Fuck off," you moaned while staring angrily at the door, but the person standing in front of it only knocked one more time.

Asshole, you thought before reluctantly climbing out of bed to open your door.

"I said you should f- Oh Miss Venable," you stared at the woman in front of you.

"Are you here to punish me again for something pointless? If so, I can assure you it won't be necessary .. The wounds from last time still hurt, if you care."

Miss Venable screwed up her eyes.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, actually I don't care, but if it still hurts, you seem to have learned your lesson," she replied coldly and you just snorted in annoyance.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are obviously depressed-" she started and you interrupted her immediately.

"What is that shit supposed to mean? I'm not depressed, I'm just sad. And since when have you been interested in how I'm doing?"

You glared at her with narrowed eyes, but her face still had the same deadly serious expression.

"You've been sad for a long time, don't you think?"

"I- uh".

You looked at her confused.

"All my friends are dead, it's only logical that I feel that way .. I find it rather questionable, that I'm the only one here, who feels that way."

"So?" Miss Venable raised an eyebrow, which made you even more insecure.

"I don't really care how you feel either. I just don't feel like wiping your blood off should you decide to kill yourself."

"Suicide isn't always bloody," you muttered.

"And because we don't have any doctors here-"

"By the way, that's the stupidest thing of all. You know, we have a hairstylist, but no doctors, you also notice that it doesn't make any sense, right?" You interrupted her and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

And again Miss Venable ignored your words and finished her sentence, which you had interrupted.

"..I thought that would help too."

Your eyes widened when you saw what she was pulling out from behind her back and immediately you started laughing.

"Are you serious? First you punish me brutally for stealing a bottle of red wine and now you come to give me one?" You laughed and stared down at the bottle she was holding out to you.

"What's worse is, that you think alcohol is replacing therapeutic treatment. That's pretty sad to be honest, Miss Venable."

Wilhemina narrowed her eyes.

"It's not sad, I just prefer red wine stains instead of stains from your blood," she growled.

"You can't possibly be serious," you mumbled and suddenly had to grin.

"You enjoyed punishing me, right? And now you're coming, because you need a reason to do it again."

"Oh come on," Miss Venable rolled her eyes.

"Take the bottle or don't take it, it's just an offer."

You were still staring at her in amazement. What was wrong with her that she thought this action would solve your problems? Another proof of how fucked up everything was and that the only person you could count on was yourself.

"Uhm, well thank you, Miss Venable," you stuttered and reached for the bottle.

"If you come over every evening and bring me a bottle, your diagnosis may work and I will have very different problems, than my sadness."

"Not funny," muttered Miss Venable, her lips pressed together.

"Well, good evening, Miss Y / N."

She turned around and started to leave and you could only stare after her in confusion. Evening?

Then you actually had dinner earlier, even though you could have sworn it was only lunch.

"Maybe you want to join me-?" You asked suddenly and were just as surprised by this question as Miss Venable, who turned to you.

"What?"

"I don't think getting drunk on my own would be fun," you added, stepping nervously from one foot to the other.

"You did it a week ago," replied Miss Venable and in the torchlight you could see the lines of confusion on her face.

"But I never said it was fun," you smiled crookedly as your grip tightened on the neck of the bottle.

"And I think it would be nicer to do that, in the presence of another person. Especially since you've already seen me drunk."

You looked at Miss Venable expectantly, although you did not know exactly what you were doing. It was probably just your desperate attempt to get someone's attention, simply because everyone, who has ever cared about you was dead. And you knew Miss Venable might not be the best choice. But while the others complained aloud about their suffering and argued about who was worse off, Miss Venable didn't show such feelings and kept her thoughts to herself. A circumstance with which you could somehow identify.

"Okay," Miss Venable finally muttered, surprising you one more time that day.

"Well, great," you said before stepping out the door frame to go back to your room. You sat on the other end of the sofa, across from where she sat a week ago. In your hand there was still the bottle of red wine and for whatever reason you were ashamed of this situation. Miss Venable brought you alcohol because she thought, you could use it to manage your sadness, or depression (as she called it). And if she had actually meant well, which was actually questionable with her, then you had to make a pretty pathetic impression on others.

"You cleaned up the mess," you heard Miss Venable's voice behind you, but it was more of a determination than an acknowledgment.

"And I just noticed that we have no glasses at all".

Your shoulders sagged at her words and for a moment you were afraid she would leave. But you heard her close the door behind her before she went to the sofa and sat down on the exact same place, that she had been sitting on a week ago.

You watched the woman confused, leaning her cane against the sofa.

Her gaze lifted to you and she stared at you as expectantly as you looked at her confused.

"What are you waiting for? Go into the kitchen and get glasses," Miss Venable uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"I- I didn't know that was a request," you muttered before jumping up from the sofa to run from your room into the kitchen.

When you ran back to your room 5 minutes later with two wine glasses, Miss Venable was still sitting on the ugly fabric sofa just as she had done a few minutes earlier. And somehow there was something aesthetic about it.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous, that everyone had to adapt to the Victorian style, just because she wanted to. But it was perfect for Miss Venable. As if it was made for it. Her red hair, which she always pinned up so strictly, then her almost black eyes and the lipstick. Also her pale skin and her cane. Even her strict personality perfectly matched the style of clothing.

"Do you want to stay in the door frame and stare at me, or are you finally coming now," Wilhemina hissed suddenly without moving even an inch and immediately a slight blush rose in your face.

"M'sorry," you muttered and quickly closed the door before going back to the sofa. After you sat down, you put the glasses in front of you on the table, where the wine bottle was now.

"I was just wondering," you explained as you poured the wine into your glasses.

"Why the Victorian style of all things?"

"Why not? It looks good," replied Miss Venable, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you began before turning to give her her glass.

"The world is ending and you make us wear 10kg dresses, because you think it looks good?"

"Any better idea?" Miss Venable asked back, putting the glass to her lips.

"Uhm I, i don't know," you stuttered and watched Miss Venable as she drank her wine.

"Don't we have to be prepared somehow or something like that?"

You heard Miss Venable laugh quietly into her glass.

"Prepared?" She repeated with a small grin and put her glass back on the table.

"On what? For the aliens to come and get us out of here?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you mumbled before you put your glass to your lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid and while you were drinking you could feel her gaze digging into your skin.

"By the way, I also find it very questionable what kind of people live in this outpost," you added, setting your Glas next to hers on the table.

Wilhemina let out a laugh. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't tell whether it was meant honestly or sarcastically.

"I'm not surprised you say that," she muttered.

"Is my dislike of the others that obvious?" you asked confused.

"I don't know if obviously this is the right word .. But what I do know, is that you always look disgusted when you see them, so I'm assuming you don't like them and to be honest, I like them neither.

Your confusion turned to laughter.

"Well," you said.

"With you it is obvious that you don't like any of them."

"These people are just as competent as they were poor. They are only here because of their money," she said disapprovingly.

You sighed thoughtfully.

"It's kind of sad, that money was the way in here. Scientists would have been so much more valuable. I'm only here because my grandfather had the money."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" She asked you and you were surprised by this honest question.

"I went to college to study history," you replied when your gaze wandered into the fire.

"So I can judge that the Victorian style wasn't the most practical choice."

You heard Miss Venable snort in annoyance and you couldn't help but grin.

"And what did you do before the apocalypse?" You asked, turning your gaze back to her. Miss Venable seemed as surprised by your question as you were by hers.

"It's a little tricky," she began. "Basically, I built human robots."

"Robots?"

"Robots."

For a moment you stared at her in amazement. Miss Venable had averted her gaze from you and directed it to the wine glass in front of her.

"M'sorry, but if you've built human robots, why are you letting real people, the Grays, work for us? Wouldn't robots have been revolutionary in an apocalypse?"

Unlike you, Miss Venable seemed totally unaffected by this.

You watched as the redhead reached for her wine glass and took another sip of the blood red liquid.

"You are asking too many questions for my taste, Miss Y / L / N," said Miss Venable softly, putting her glass back on the table. And even though she kept her voice low, you could hear her indirect threat.

"To be honest, I'm amazed, that I'm the only one asking questions," you replied, trying to make eye contact with the woman next to you again, but Miss Venable's gaze was tied to the blazing fire in the fireplace and you could see a dark glint in their eyes.

"You shouldn't get involved in things that are none of your business," she said suddenly in a monotonous voice. "All over the world there are survivors and it is not your job to question my system, nobody has the right to do so. You are just one stupid survivor of many, nothing more"

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

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

"Oh c'mon," you moaned and ran your tousled hair.

"God must hate me".

You stood on shaky legs from the library floor, that you fell on after stumbling into the room. You brushed the dirt off your skirt and realized with gritted teeth, that it was ruined.

"Seems like someone is having a bad day," you suddenly heard a voice say and immediately your mood worsened.

You straighten up again to meet Miss Venable's eyes. The woman sat on the right of the two leather sofas and with one hand clutched her cane, which was propped on the floor.

"Fuck you", you hissed before you let yourself fall on the sofa across from her.

"Oh, someone is having a very bad day," added Miss Venable, and you didn't have to look at her to see, that she was amused by your behavior,

"Yes, my day sucks and guess what, it's all your fault," you growled and glared angrily at her stick.

"When I got up this morning and wanted to leave my room, I got stuck in the door with my blouse and the whole sleeve was torn. Did you also notice, how much you sweat in these clothes? It's really hard to go at the toilet with these clothes .. I'm sorry, but what the hell was your idea, when you decided to give us a Victorian dress code? Did you have to make our life after the apocalypse even harder ? "

You pressed angrily your lips together and screwed up your eyes.

"You are the only person who complains about it," said Miss Venable and sounded not quite as amused as a minute before. You let out a dry laugh.

"The others are too scared of you, to tell you that," you said bitterly.

"Besides, what the hell are you doing here?"

You tore your gaze away from her stick to look directly into her dark eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Because you're never here and you didn't look like someone who'd like to hang out with Mr. Gallant or Coco."

"Well, neither Mr. Gallant nor Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt are here right now, right? And besides, I could ask you the same thing", Miss Venable replied indifferently and somehow she was right. It was also a rarity to see you in the library as you actually spent most of the time in your room.

"I suppose my great sadness is over now .. or as you called it 'depression'. I'm more in the mood right now, that I don't care and I am angry at everything and now you are my victim. Your lipstick is smeared by the way", you sighed, although that was actually a lie, her lipstick was perfect as always. But in fact her eyes widened slightly and you couldn't help but enjoy this view.

"You're lying," hissed Miss Venable and you had to grin.

"Maybe".

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe you'd better go and see, or you risk the others seeing you ruined makeup."

It was obvious that Miss Venable was a perfectionist woman and she wasn't going to let her position of power be challenged over a smeared lipstick. On the other hand, you were an extremely bad liar and Miss Venable wasn't stupid.

"You're lying," she repeated, only with her lips pressed together, giving you the sense of achievement you wanted.

"Mhh Miss Venable," you hummed as your eyes found her stick again.

"This cane .. when I saw you for the first time, I wondered if it was just a symbol of power or if you really needed it-"

"..And then you saw me walk with it," added Miss Venable with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Oh no," you quickly shook your head.

"It wasn't your walk that gave me the confirmation that you really need the stick. It could never be your walk, you walk so majestically with that stupid thing, that even people, who don't really need a cane and only use it as an accessory would look handicapped next to you."

It was probably a rather desperate attempt to put the whole thing in a compliment and Miss Venable did not answer your words either, but you could see in the glow of the fire how her pale skin turned a light red shade and that was enough for you.

"It was your grip to be honest," you continued.

Miss Venable frowned.

"My grip?"

"Yes," you nodded and started playing with the fabric of your skirt.

"Your fingers are always clenched so tightly around the handle, as if you wanted it to break through. As if you were trying to strangle it or something like that, i dont know."

The furrow on Wilhemina's forehead only got a little wider with your words.

"You seem to spend a lot of time watching what my hands are doing," she mumbled and this time it was you, who blushed.

"It was just an observation, that I made on the side," you stammered quickly when you realized, that from one moment to the next the conversation had taken a completely wrong direction. Miss Venable did not answer again and you did not have the courage to look her face again and so the next few seconds were filled with an embarrassing silence, although you could imagine that Miss Venable was enjoying your discomfort.

"May I take a look at your cane-?" You finally asked to break the silence.

"You want to take a look at my cane?" Repeated Miss Venable, surprised with raised eyebrows.

"Only if it's okay," you said quickly.

"You are the first person, who asks me that".

Miss Venable looked thoughtfully down at her cane, which was still in her hand.

"As I said, the others are too scared of you-"

"The others don't care," Miss Venable interrupted, and you didn't know if she was sad about it or if she didn't care. But we're talking about Wilhemina Venable, she probably didn't care.

The red-haired woman sighed before holding out her stick to you.

You grinned and tried to grab the staff, but before your fingers could touch the wood, Miss Venable pulled it back again.

"How can I be sure, that you won't break it up and use it to make firewood?", She asked you and you looked at her in horror.

"I would probably be the last person to do that," you said indignantly.

"On the contrary, I think you would be the only person in this outpost who would dare to."

Miss Venable held out her stick to you again and this time she let you reach for it.

You immediately noticed how light the wood was in your hand as you carefully ran your fingers over the stick.

"What kind of wood is that?" You asked quietly without looking up from her walker.

"I guess it was blackthorn".

Your fingers moved on to the handle of the stick, which was probably the most interesting thing. A metal handle in the shape of a raven skull served as a support for the hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?".

You lifted your gaze back to Miss Venable, who obviously didn't understand what to do with your question.

"Well, if I had to support myself with all my weight on this skull, it would hurt," you added and Wilhemina just shrugged her shoulders.

"Uhm, it's a beautiful cane," you muttered, handing it back to her.

"May I ask why you need it?"

"I don't know what this should have gotten to do with you," replied Miss Venable, not sounding as nice as before. If you could call it "nice".

"Okay okay, taboo subject, I got it," you said quickly, desperately searching your head for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Do you actually enjoy it? To have control over everyone here? And know that, that almost everyone is afraid of you?", You finally asked and leaned back against the sofa.

"You asked me that a few weeks ago, when you were drunk," remarked Miss Venable, looking down at her gloved fingers, which were wrapped around her cane again.

"Really?" You asked confused.

"More or less. It was more of an accusation."

"An accusation?"

Miss Venable hummed in agreement.

"I told you, that you would be punished for your behavior and you said I would enjoy it."

"I understand," you mumbled, still staring hard at her face.

"What else happened that evening?"

A smug smile danced on Wilhemina's lips and she took a moment to consider your question.

"Well, you made fun of my name," she finally began as she drummed her fingers on the skull-like handle of her stick.

"And then you said, that I was pretty and that I should be happy about it, because other people are ugly."

Your eyes froze as her words entered your brain.

Wrong turn. Wrong turn.

"Uhm .. You know, when I'm drunk I tend to perceive things a lot more intensely than they actually are and then I exaggerate occasionally," you tried desperately to get yourself out of this situation, but Miss Venable just let out a loud laugh and you realized, that you had failed miserably. You cleared your throat briefly and sat up straight again.

"You haven't answered my question yet," you said, trying to change the subject again.

"I wanted to know, if you enjoy all of this."

"Do I enjoy it if you don't obey my rules? No, I don't enjoy that, why should I?" Miss Venable said and again had that indifferent sound in her voice. Of course you knew that she had bypassed your question and that was enough to prove, that she enjoyed her monarchy in Outpost 3.

"You said earlier, that you had got over your grief. That's good to hear," said Miss Venable, and this time she was the one who changed the subject.

"I thought you didn't care what I felt".

You smiled contentedly and cocked your head. Somehow you liked this game of mutual debunking.

"I don't care either, I just wanted to be polite."

Your smile widened when you saw her fingers clench a little tighter around her stick.

"Miss Venable and polite, I don't think this is a well-working combination," you teased her and in the glow of the fire you could see her roll her eyes.

"You were a lot less tiring, when you were crying in your room all day," she muttered disapprovingly.

Why should it be such a struggle

When it means so much to you and me?

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Built like a ship in a bottle

Gotta handle you so delicately

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

I don't know what we got

But I know what I want

The silence is killing me softly

What. The. Fuck.

When you arrived at the Outpost a few months ago, you couldn't even have imagined in your deepest dreams, that you would ever end up in this situation.

You lay on your back, still staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Only now did you notice, that you had your arms wrapped around your chest and that your fingernails were digging painfully into the flesh of your shoulder. Your body lay rigid in her bed and you couldn't move an inch. You desperately tried to put the things that had happened in the right order.

Was it a stupid idea to go in Miss Venable's Bedroom? Yes, definitely. In retrospect, you didn't even know what exactly you wanted there. And actually you should have disappeared, after you saw that Wilhemina hadn't even been there. But no, of course your curious ass had to inspect her entire room.

And by the time Miss Venable came out of her bathroom in her pajamas, you had already started counting in your head how many punches Miss Mead was going to give you as punishment. You had definitely crossed the line.

But it turned out very differently than expected. Miss Venable had been angry anyway, very angry, but her anger was not expressed in words. The woman had pressed you against the wall and before you could do anything about it, her hand had slipped under your skirt, between your legs and Miss Venable had broken her own rule.

Of course you could have pushed her away, but it felt so right. You wanted so badly for someone to pay you attention and Miss Venable had kind of given you just that, when she pressed you against the wall and fucked you senselessly.

The whole thing was just so emotionless. You hadn't been able to look at her. You were ashamed of every sound you made, and if Miss Venable hadn't put her hand over your mouth, everyone in the Outpost would probably have heard you scream.

Which wouldn't have been so practical, because this man had come here a few days ago and you knew he was interviewing all the residents for the sanctuary and it wouldn't have been very beneficial for you if he'd caught you, breaking you down Venables rules. Regardless of the fact, that she had broken her rule herself.

Miss Venable hadn't said a single word about what had happened a few minutes ago, as if she had absolutely no need to justify herself.

She hadn't even looked at you when she took her hands off you and wiped them with a kleenex.

"You can sleep here tonight," she had muttered.

"It would be noticeable if you left my room now."

And now you lay next to her in bed and tried to understand all of this. Your dress was messy on the floor and all you had on was your underwear. After your fingers relaxed, you had pulled the blanket, that she wordlessly gave you over you and clung desperately to the fabric.

You had calmed down and could now hear her breathing next to you. The fact, that she was just lying next to you and probably sleeping was disturbing. At least, she could have apologized, right? Although, that didn't make sense either, because you obviously enjoyed what had happened.

You carefully turned your head towards her and saw, that her back was turned to you. And you wondered if she was really sleeping or just pretending. Miss Venable had become your most private contact in the outpost and you didn't really know what that actually meant.

You wanted so badly to touch her, but you didn't know if you had the right to do so. Only now did you notice the scars on her back, that shone through the light nightgown. Add to that the snake-like curve of her spine and suddenly you understood why she needed her stick.

"You have scoliosis," you said your thoughts out loud and you heard her hold her breath.

"Congratulations," she hummed miserably.

"You figured it die out."

You nervously began to chew your lower lip.

"Did I make anything wrong?" You asked quietly.

"Ask yourself how you got into this situation, then you will know."

"I- do you want me to go?", Your voice sounded sadder than you actually wanted.

When Miss Venable didn't answer, you felt tears welling up in your eyes as the feeling of fear grew inside you. You screwed it up. Probably the next evening you would end up like Stu as stew.

"No," Miss Venable suddenly whispered before turning to you. The red-haired woman had a blank expression on her face while she watched you cry.

She raised her hand as if to wipe the tears from your face, but she lowered it again and you had to do it yourself.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"You're stupid if you apologize," Miss Venable replied bluntly.

"That was more than just unprofessional of me, I should have let you go and tomorrow you would have been punished."

You looked at her sadly.

"That's the only solution, isn't it? Punishment."

"I don't know exactly what you're getting at? It's actually quite simple. Those are my rules and whoever doesn't stick to them will be punished for it", Miss Venable looked at you unimpressed and you returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"What about Michael Langdon? Does he have to obey your rules too?" You finally asked.

"What does this mean?"

"Uhm well, I guess I've known you for 18 months now and the first time you seem scared."

Miss Venable raised her eyebrows.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not even remotely an emotional chaos as you are."

Emotional chaos. Okay she had a point. You blinked a few times to force the tears, that were still glistening in your eyes back down.

"I don't know if emotional chaos is the right word," you muttered.

"You should think less about your stupid feelings," Miss Venable sighed, turning away from you again.

"They've only got you in trouble so far if you ask me."

You pressed your lips together and had to suppress an angry comment, that would only confirm her accusation. Your eyes stared at her back again. The red curls of her long hair had slipped behind her shoulders and were now curling on her back. You would have loved to stretch out your hand to touch it. You would have loved to curl up in her arms to feel safe for the first time in over a year. You wanted to kiss her. Or at least hold her hand. Anything. Just a little bit of their affection would have been enough and you would have been happy. It probably all sounds kind of selfish, because she fucked you a few minutes ago. The whole thing just wasn't particularly loving. You felt like a disgusting animal and now you wanted her to show you, you weren't. Miss Venable was only a few inches away from you and all you had to do was hold out your hand and you would feel her warmth. But while it was actually only a few centimeters, you realized, that there were worlds between you and this woman and that she was probably never further away from you than at this moment.

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

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

Wilhemina Venable had a great talent at pretending everything was fine.

As if nothing happened. Nothing had changed in the days after that night.

Since Michael Langdon was at the Outpost, she avoided private contact with you and the fact, that you had shared a bed didn't change that. In addition, she was just as disgusting to you in front of the others as always and that was nothing new either. And while Wilhemina no longer seemed to care about what had happened between you two, at the same time it almost killed you.

You actually expected, that she would want to talk to you about it again, but nothing had happened and that made you angry. Miss Venable would always deny it, but she was the only one who cared about you. And you appreciated her weird way of paying attention to you so much.

The only problem was, you couldn't even begin to imagine, what was going on in her head. While you were acting like a lovesick teenager, the only thing you saw of her was her deadly serious face.

Oh and Miss Venable was right, you were a fucking emotional mess. Since you woke up the next morning in her empty bed, you have cried a lot again and spent a lot of time in your room, but this time Miss Venable would probably not come to offer you alcohol as medication.

It was the afternoon of any day and you were sitting on the floor, leaning against your bed. In one hand you held a pair of scissors, while in the other you held the skirt of your dress. You were still not used to wearing long skirts after so many months and you still kept poking around at yourself, when walking through the outpost, so you decided to cut your skirts short. Of course you knew, that Wilhemina would probably kill you, if she saw you, breaking her sacred dress code, but fuck Wilhemina. At least you could finally walk properly again.

The triple knock on your door made you look up from your work and you got up to go to the door. You probably should have known it was Miss Venable who knocked. Who else has been interested in you, in the past few months?

"We need to talk," said the red-haired woman firmly, without looking at you.

You just nodded and stepped out of the door frame to make room for her.

For a brief moment you were afraid, that Miss Venable would get angry about the dress, that was lying shortened on the floor next to the scissors, but she just ignored it and stood across from you.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, I'm just here to ugh- "

Miss Venable was interrupted by you when you, you stupid idiot, reached for her face to angrily press your lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a second in total, because Miss Venable immediately pushed you away from her and the next thing you felt was her hand lashing angrily against your right cheek. A horrified gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Wilhemina in horror as you rubbed your cheek.

"If you do that again, I'll kill you," the redhead growled, glaring at you angrily.

You looked at her hurt and felt tears start to sting in your eyes.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"Oh of course you are," hissed Miss Venable.

"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I just- I don't know," you stuttered desperately.

"I think I love you".

Miss Venable's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to punch you again.

"This is not love, this is despair, you stupid thing."

"Despair?" You breathed in horror.

"How else would you describe your behavior?" She spat and angrily started knocking her stick on the floor.

"I mean, look at you. You are a total mess. Either you cry in your room all day or you are angry at everything and everyone. You are the only person, who ruins her clothes. You are the one which most often breaks my rules, just because you are too unable to deal with your feelings. You know, everyone can handle what happened, except you, because you are so damn selfish. But you have to wake up.. Do you think, that was what I wanted, when you cried into my bed a few days ago? Oh no. And I know that, was my fault too. You know, everything what I want, is that you obey my rules, but that seems to be too much for your incompetent ass ", Wilhemina scolded and angrily knocked her stick on the floor.

"And now you come and say you love me."

She shook her head.

"As I said, this is not love, this is despair. And I don't know what kind of answer you were hoping for, from me, but let me be clear: In my opinion, of all the residents of the Outpost, you are the most pathetic and I hate you, I really do and you're sick if you even thought it would be different. "

You stared at her in shock. The feeling, that rose in you at that moment was indescribable. A mixture of disgust, shame and anger. But also the feeling of betrayal. And you couldn't say who these feelings were for, for you or for Wilhemina.

"Y-you hate me?" You stuttered, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek to remove your tears.

"I hate everyone in this outpost, that includes you too," hissed Miss Venable.

You shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't believe you," you whispered.

"I still believe, that you are scared and that is why you act like that."

"Mister Langdon will interview you tomorrow," said Miss Venable without responding to your comment.

"If you tell him anything about what happened a few days ago, I promise you will wish you were never born. With your condition, you probably won't be in the sanctuary anyway, but I will don't let me spoil this opportunity from you. Do you understand me? "

You shook your head.

"I don't understand what your problem is suddenly ... I asked you that evening if I should go and you said no."

"The whole thing was a mistake, nothing more", Miss Venable growled quietly and stepped past you to go to your door.

"I hate you and you hate me, that's all that's between us, you understand?"

You wanted to say something, but you decided not to, it didn't make any sense anyway.

"I understand," you said softly.

"Good," replied Miss Venable before turning and walking out of your room.

You stared after her sadly. Of course you didn't understand why she was suddenly so mad at you, but how could you? Miss Venable had wanted to end whatever was between you, so that she would not feel guilty if you were to be murdered by her in a few days. She had never meant to offend you, but she had to make it clear to herself, that she didn't love you. She just couldn't love you.

Show me freedom

'Cause love don't cost a thing

Give me freedom

Yeah don't just let me leave

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

"Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon barked and slapped the table with the palm of his hand. You winced and looked disturbed into the blond man's eyes.

"I asked you something".

He leaned down to you and his face was only a few inches from yours.

"Are you in love?"

You swallowed and blinked a few times, before you whispered softly:

"I am not."

The man leaned back and looked at you thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N," he finally sighed.

"You can go."

Without looking at the man again, you got up to run out of the room. You tripped and if you hadn't held onto the wall next to the door, you would have fallen. For a moment you leaned against the wall with your eyes closed and took a deep breath.

This man was disgusting and a little too intimate for your taste, no wonder, that no one liked him.

You opened your eyes again and realized, that Miss Venable was staring down at you as she leaned against the railing.

Your eyes were lost in hers, her almost black eyes in which the light of the torches is always reflected. You wanted to say something, but you were afraid, that she would leave and you didn't want that. Miss Venable had put on her indifferent expression as always and, as always, you did not know what was going on inside the woman.

Your lips formed a mute "fuck you" when you saw her turn away from you to move. And the faint tapping of her cane proved to you, that she was indeed leaving and you knew that she would not come back.

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #american horror story

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izzyliker · 3 years

Note

Hey, asking you this as nicely as I can but can you give the immediate victim blaming a break. The absolute lack of respect you have for the people tmc abused is genuinely disheartening. Yes, he’s a shitty person, you’re entitled to hate him but immediately going “well you should’ve seen it coming earlier lol we’ve been saying this” is just ASTONISHINGLY shortsighted and cruel. Have your opinions about him and the situation all you want I would just ask that you please keep it to yourself due to the many many people he’s hurt that are still on here and can see you disparaging them.

ok, that is not what i have been saying. "well you should've known" is not an accurate summary of my feelings on this matter but apologies if thats how it came across. i have been in an abusive relationship where the person did a lot of the same things and i, too, defended that person without considering how it impacted other people. i almost lost my best friend because of how i acted as a result of keeping him in my life while people around me kept telling me to get tf out. i know.

what i am is im frustrated and annoyed by how long people were willing to publicly and passionately defend this guy while apparently fully aware what kind of shit he was doing to other people, many of which is detailed in the callout itself, and how this is now being framed as news. before the document itself was published all me (or anyone) had to go off of was vague posts that amounted to a "callout trailer" and almost all of the information on it was shit that was 100% completely public knowledge. 20+ people being aware of all that goddamn stuff and not one of them publicly stopping associating with him is frustrating. it comes across as spineless and yes, like one anon told GD, gaslighty (although i have my own issues with this being used on a large scale instead of in interpersonal relationships but i understand where they were coming from). his lesbophobia, transphobia (strange that none of the transphobia towards trans men was mentioned?), and panphobia/aphobia/biphobia were widely documented and seeing that on a callout post as if it were news was extremely tiring.

ive since read the callout. the interpersonal actions seem to have been horrible but sadly im not surprised (by which i dont mean "and neither should you" but rather. my spidey senses for this sort of behavior are pretty accurate most of the time and i did see this coming. this isnt me saying im Better than these people or that they shouldve as well but rather that i have learned to identify people of this genre.) by any of them.

also im 75% sure this is tumblr user GD. hello. if not then apologies, its just that the typing here is very similar. if it is, i think you trying to both take accountability for this and process whatever it is youre processing at the same time on tumblr is a bad idea and going to just lead to people feeling hurt and betrayed because while i truly do see where the reaction is coming from (like, truly, i understand, believe me), if you say "i take responsibility for how i acted while being manipulated" but then when people voice their negative feelings you tell them theyre victim blaming you it is going to reflect poorly on you. i dont think you understand how many people were absolutely hurt by the enabling you and your large, massively popular group of friends did for him, including the MASSIVE defense rant you typed up in defense of him when someone sent an ask to the bi jon event about him being panphobic and aphobic. whether its fair for people to expect you to immediately go into depth about it is questionable but dont invite people to do this when you obviously cannot handle it (i dont mean this in a bad way like "oh you should handle it". i mean genuinely this is how you get burnt out and possibly worsen possible future trauma. by trying to immediately placate people without having the mental resources to do so.)

i think the "we dont condone these views and never did!" without ever specifying what they were or doing any other work there is a lazy fucking cop-out. your circle was/is massively popular and a lot of people took all of you as authorities on stuff like headcanons and respectful portrayals of certain characters or identities to the point of accepting your meta as canon (something you havent really dissuaded ever), and associating publicly with someone who would constantly do this kind of shit and then defending him publicly while also positing yourself as an authority isnt something you can just "oops! we never agreed with him!" yourself out of. GD & TF specifically, you are massive blogs. you are babys first TMA blog. people in your askbox hurt and betrayed by this shit are not necessarily there to victim blame you. they are there because they trusted your word when they said "hey seraf reblogged anti pan and anti ace and weird transphobic posts" and you said "seraf is one of my dearest friends and would never do any of those things and im personally offended youd even imply that." i think you dont understand the real life consequences of the massively popular posts and sentiments he made & published and that you helped spread (despite apparently knowing that he was being a massive hypocrite and bigoted towards those groups or identities in his personal life). obviously interpersonal abuse/conflict is going to be "worse" but dear god i hope you collectively understand that "oh btw we never endorsed his views" is a massive copout and a shit apology for the hurt this association and endorsement caused. tmc has been terrorizing this fucking fandom for months with his bullshit and bigotry and you have not been passive bystandars but active enablers.

anyways, hope everyone involved gets to uh, heal i suppose, but i think expecting the people who seraf suicide baited, the groups of trans men he misgendered, the people who he targeted and harassed, the genuine fucking long lasting dysphoria he caused real people to have over his shitty takes re: transness and dysphoria, and the general shit behavior he was allowed to keep up with zero pushback from anyone in his circle of the fandom to drop all the anger or frustration they have for the people who enabled him and defended him aggressively is... unrealistic. and makes you look bad. especially when the doc doesnt even clarify which opinions you still support.

#disk horse #abuse ment #long post #also im ngl some of the shit in the doc rly didnt need to be there if it genuinely was just a warning or whatever #also from what my jewish friends have said the whole section about converts not being jewish seems recklessly irresponsible as a thing to #include with any amount of authority re: the status of converts #But whatever.

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goblins-riddles-or-frocks · 4 years

Note

Hello, I am sorry if I am sending this to the wrong blog but I am not sure you are still using the one dedicated to hellsing. I wanted to know your opinion on a possible scenario if you don’t mind. How would Alucard (and Seras for that matter) react if, when he finally reaches London, Integra has been killed by Iscariot or by Millenium? (sorry i have these worst scenario ideas that come sometimes and thought you might have an interesting perspective on it)

This is the right blog! I closed my inbox on blood-and-cigars and don’t really update it anymore.

And oooh good question. So, I think it depends a lot on circumstance, who killed her, how, etc. But yeah let’s say during that dramatic moment when Walter exits the Rolls Royce and goes to see the Captain (and the whole things framed as a self sacrifice lol) Integra refused to go and this somehow escalated and resulted in her death. I don’t think Walter would personally kill her, but the Captain would have no such qualms. So she’s dead. Now what?

IMO Alucard would definitely just Know. There is no Hellsing heir so he’s free. I can’t see that not being something he’s immediately aware of, no matter how far away he is. And he’d likely go fucking berserk tbh. All four stages of grief at once (bc lol acceptance? no.)

Seras... I’m not sure would have the same ability. But she does have a telepathic bond with Alucard. And she’d def feel the mess of emotions coming from him, probably attempt to ask him what’s wrong and be hit with a wave of incomprehensible grief and rage instead. But from what we’ve seen of her, she doesn’t really seem to lose composure under pressure. And honestly she’s not that close with Integra, so she probably keeps chugging for the moment.

But yeah, so for Alucard, accessing his full power is no longer an issue. I personally think it could be a fun and horrifying image if he just summons all his familiars into a...corpse bridge... to cross running water more quickly than the ship can carry him. I don’t know what effect coming into contact with running water would actually have on his familiars but uh excellent opportunity for some fun gore and body horror there.

Anyway yeah he’d make it back to England just 500% more of an angry raging mess. Would still go berserk at the millennium soldiers but not even bother with a dramatic stand off with Anderson and the Captain.

I think he’d honestly go for Major first because alllll of this shit is his fault, and by virtue of grief he’s actually taking it seriously for the first time. I really like how in canon he initially just... ignores Walter when he’s trying to bait him. So yeah to mirror that, I could def see Walter try to do his goth vampire reveal and Alucard just Does Not Care, he is here for the Major.

For the sake of her power up, let’s just say the hellsing manor sequence goes as per canon. The lowered morale could mean it’s a much quicker loss though, until Pip dies, and she levels up.

Anyway back to Alucard, the obligatory murderous rampages aside. The Anderson battle would definitely take place. And Alucard would probably just... give up and die tbh? His main goal is to be defeated by a human, well there’s a human ready to kill him. He wouldn’t really have a sense of purpose anymore to keep him going, and I think his grief might mean that even if Seras tried to intervene like in canon, that he wouldn’t really respond to it. I kind of doubt Anderson would even need to use the Nail of Helena on himself.

Lollll idk so super dramatic set up where he went and killed the Major, then still ignoring Walter, circled back around to go find Integra’s body. He’d probably have a breakdown and full existential crisis by her side. Anderson could show up ready to fight. And Alucard would probably need to be coaxed into engaging lmao. And yeah he’d probably put up a vague fight just to say he did, and then let himself be killed tbh. I could also see him losing interest altogether and just... going to sit by Integra’s corpse tbh and wait to be killed.

That could honestly lead to a VERY interesting Seras and Anderson fight though. And while I don’t think she’d necessarily be at a place where she could defeat him, I could see her buying enough time to drag Alucard away and escape.

And that’s when you can get all the grief and suicidal ideation out lmao. (He’d probably ask her to kill him ngl) What they do after that? IDK! Walter still needs to be dealt with, so something something about that, probably? Regardless, Alucard would just be completely out of commission. So whatever happens next, it’s really just on Seras.

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winchester-fantasies · 5 years

Text

90 Days - Part Five: Light

90 Days Masterlist

Mini-Series Summary: You’ve been hit by a curse. Now you only have 90 days to live. Sam and Dean race to find a cure while secrets are revealed and feelings are discovered in the process.

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of attempted suicide

Pairing: Sam x Female!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for coming with me on this journey! This whole series has been an emotional roller coaster and it ripped my heart out (no pun intended lol) more often than not. It’s bittersweet posting this last part, and I hope you like it as much as I do. ❤❤

Winchester Fantansies’ Masterlist

“Sam!” you gasped. He sat up with a start, his eyes wide with panic.

“Sam,” you said again, this time quiet and unbelieving. “How am I not dead?”

He stared at you for a moment as if not really believing you were actually there. But in the next instant he seemed to come out of his trance. “I...I don’t know,” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I think maybe I should call Dean.”

You nodded as Sam climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and grabbing his cellphone from the table by the bed. He pulled up Dean’s contact and pressed the call button. He glanced over to you before quietly exiting the room. You could just make out his muffled voice as Dean answered and the soft opening and closing of the front door.

You ran your fingers through your tangled hair and held you head in your hands. You didn’t understand what had happened. Just a few weeks before you’d nearly died just from kissing Sam. But somehow you were still alive after making love to him. You thought you understood this curse and everything it carried, but now you weren’t so sure.

After what seemed like an eternity Sam finally returned. His face was unreadable as he took up his duffle, stuffing his clothes and the few necessities he’d brought into it. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he said.

“What?” you asked.

He stopped what he was doing to turn and look at you. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he repeated. “Dean hasn’t made any headway and was just as surprised as us when...uh...when I told him what happened or what...didn’t.” He looked to the ground for a moment as if embarrassed, your own cheeks flushing pink at his words.

“He’s going to have both Cas and Rowena come to the bunker, too,” Sam said.

You nodded, throwing the blankets off and going over to your duffle sitting by the closet door. You set it on the edge of the bed before gathering the few things you’d taken out. You haphazardly stuffed your clothes into the bag, your mind racing. You finally had to stop, the knot in your stomach too tight to ignore.

You turned towards Sam just as he zipped up his bag. “Sam,” you said so quietly your voice barely reached your own ears. Sam didn’t seem to hear you as he went over to the table and stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets.

“Sam,” you said again, this time louder, your voice coming out choked. He stopped and turned to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you whispered. It was ironic. You’d lived with this curse looming over you, the constant fear of death a grim companion. And while you had been frightened, you knew how it ended if Sam and Dean didn’t find a cure. You’d made peace with it. But now that it was gone…. The fear was palpable.

Sam’s eyes were soft as he walked around the bed, coming to stand in front of you. He drew you into his strong arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I am, too,” he admitted softly. “But I promise you,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze. “As long as you’re with me, nothing is going to happen. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

He leaned down, his lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. You melted into his embrace, letting his strength and words envelope you in security. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone when he pulled away. “I love you,” he breathed.

You smiled, placing a soft kiss to his still bare chest. “I love you, too.”

**********

You and Sam drove back to the bunker, Sam pushing the speed limit as far as he could. You reached the bunker in record time, only stopping for a few hours at a rest stop so Sam could get a little shut eye before hitting the road once more. You reached the bunker by nightfall the following day.

You looked up at the giant stone fortress as you stepped out of the vehicle, a sense of calm falling over you. You’d never been so glad to be home as you were at that very moment.

You and Sam entered the bunker, the silence welcoming as you walked down the metal stairs to the main floor of the building. You set your duffle down on the map table before making your way to the library, finding Dean at one of the tables, books, manuscripts, and various other documents strewn across the table.

He looked up from what he was reading on his laptop, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. His grin was wide as he scooted back from the table, coming over to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. “I’m okay, Dean,” you said, hugging him back tightly. You were surprised to find his eyes were slightly misty once he pulled away, and you noticed dark circles sitting under them. Your danger had weighed heavier than you realized on him, and you knew he’d spent countless hours trying to find a way to save you.

“Glad you’re home,” he said simply before sniffing and going back to his place.

**********

“Find anything?” Sam asked, sitting himself down beside you and handing you one of the beers he’d gone to the kitchen to retrieve. You smiled your thanks before turning back to Dean across from you.

“Nope,” Dean said gruffly, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “But Rowena should be here soon. Says she might have found something.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought of finally having some answers. As if sensing your nervous anxiousness, Sam reached under the table, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together. He gave your hand a squeeze and sent you a soft smile of reassurance before turning his focus back on his brother.

“Have you heard from Cas?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Does he have any theories?” you finally spoke.

Dean looked up at you as if just realizing you were there, like he’d forgotten you were okay. “Didn’t say so,” he said. “If Rowena doesn’t know maybe he can...read your mind or something. Ya know. Work his angel mojo.”

You smiled softly. “Yeah, maybe so,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.

“Hey,” Sam murmured, squeezing your hand again. You looked over at him, his eyes soft. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you once more. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“I know,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return.

Just then there was a knock at the bunker door. Dean went to answer it, returning with Rowena a few moments later. “Hello, dears,” she greeted with a smirk.

“Hey, Rowena,” Sam said, you sending her a tight-lipped smile.

She set a large black bag on the library table before turning her gaze to you, her expression softening. “You poor dear,” she said sympathetically.

“So what’s your theory?” Sam asked impatiently.

Rowena sent him a smile that barely masked her annoyance. “Patience, Samuel,” she said. “This is very ancient, very powerful magic. To rush any of it would be foolish.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and his grip on your hand tightened, but he didn’t argue further. “Now,” she said, turning her attention back to you. “Tell me exactly what happened while you were at the cabin and what led you to believe the curse broke.”

You proceeded to tell her everything that had happened, starting with Sam and Dean leaving, your attempted suicide, Sam’s kiss and your subsequent episode because of it, and ending with you and Sam making love and realizing you weren’t dead. Rowena stood staring at you thoughtfully once you’d finished recounting.

“Very strange…” she murmured. “I would have thought….” She trailed off, shaking her head in confusion before opening the bag in front of her and digging through it.

Your stomach clenched at her tone, and you leaned forward. “Would have thought what?” you asked nervously.

“Oh, nothing,” Rowena said vaguely, brushing off your question.

“No!” you snapped, causing her to jump and Sam to look at you with wide eyes. “Tell me!”

“Very well,” she said with a thin-lipped smile. “It’s just…. Did either of you….”

She was abruptly cut off by the sound of fluttering wings as Cas flew into the library. “Hello, Sam, Dean,” he said. “Rowena,” he greeted rigidly.

“Castiel,” the witch said with a soft smile and tip of her head.

“(Y/N),” Cas said, coming over to you. You stood just as he pulled you into his strong arms. “I’m glad you’re okay. Dean told me everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

“It’s alright, Cas,” you said, giving him a smile after you’d pulled away. “I’m just glad to be alive.” Cas frowned before he placed a palm over your brow, closing his eyes while a soft, white light illuminated your skin.

“The curse is indeed gone,” Cas said. “And...it broke...quite suddenly.”

“But...what does that mean then?” you asked. “And...and how?”

“As I was saying,” Rowena interjected. “Did either of you, at any point after your episode in the kitchen, profess...your love?”

You and Sam locked gazes, silently questioning one another and going back over the events after that episode. “I...don’t think so,” Sam said slowly.

“No, wait,” you said thoughtfully. All eyes were on you as you carefully contemplated what you were going to say next. “After the episode…. Sam, you told me you loved me and that you’d wait for as long as you needed, to be with me.”

Sam’s eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “And then...uh, when...when we….” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Well, you know. You said you loved me, too.”

You smiled softly at the memory, so heavy, but yet so full of emotion, even now that the curse was gone. “That’s right,” you said. You turned back to Rowena, looking at her expectantly.

She was smiling as if she held a great secret. “It’s just as I thought,” she said. “You see there was a witch, one of the very first. Very powerful - even more powerful than me,” she chuckled. “Anyway, she loved a man, but when she professed her love, he rejected her.

“Out of spite, she created this curse - a curse of love. If he could find someone he loved, and they reciprocated his love in the span of ninety days, then the curse would be broken. If not, then his heart would quite literally break. Well, he was a very brash and hateful man, and even his own mother didn’t love him. He was found three months later on the floor of his home, a hole in his chest, his heart lying beside him.”

You swallowed hard at the thought that that could have been you if the curse hadn’t been broken. You were brought out of your thoughts as Rowena continued.

“The curse was never used by other witches not only because it was lost to time, only a few copies remaining but also because it was unreadable. You see, the witch used her own language, only putting the phrases ‘ninety days’ and ‘life force ceasing’ in Latin. Which makes me believe that the witch you killed in the factory was none other than the witch herself.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation, and Dean let out a low whistle. “Wow,” Sam breathed. “So...when (Y/N) and I professed our love….”

“It broke the curse,” you said, finishing Sam’s sentence.

“Precisely,” Rowena said. “It’s really the perfect curse for hunters. Always so lovelorn and alone,” she said wistfully. “However, she didn’t count on the love of Sam Winchester.”

**********

Later that night you laid in your bed with Sam, your bodies pressed together and your legs intertwined. “I can’t believe I’m actually still here,” you said in near disbelief as you lightly played with the hair on his bare chest.

Sam took a deep breath as his grip on you tightened. “Neither can I, actually,” he said, brushing his fingers over your side, feather light. “But I’m glad you are.”

“I am, too,” you said, turning your head and softly kissing his chest. “Thank you for everything,” you whispered. “You literally saved my life.”

A low chuckle escaped him, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. “How could I not?” he asked, turning his head to look at you. “You are my heart after all.”

You smiled, leaning up to place your lips gently against his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. You felt him smile before he rolled you over, caging you in between his firm body and the mattress.

“I love you, too,” he said, reverently brushing a strand of hair off your brow before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

Everything:

@divadinag @mogaruke @calaofnoldor @defenderrosetyler @coffeebooksandfandom @emoryhemsworth @satans-0-spawn @fandom-princess-forevermore @titty-teetee @gallifreyansass @swiftrogerswinchesterthot

Sam Girls:

@saladsammys

90 Days:

@hazel-eyed-hunter @heyyy-hey-babyyy @mrskiaclifford @vicmc624 @spiderrparkerr

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester angst #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction series #90 days

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hamonsurveysoverdrive · 4 years

Text

Opulence

Is your best friend in love with someone? He's in love with me. Does the feeling of Christmas time make you happy? Half happy, half stressed lol Do you wear more t-shirts or dressy shirts? T-shirts. Do you believe that there's a difference between love and lust, or is a feeling just a feeling? Obviously there's a difference. When you see a girl with big boobs, do you automatically think she's a slut? What in the fuck. At this moment in time, do you wish you could trade places with someone else? Not especially. Are you excited for college and being on your own? I'm 32. How many times have you sworn at your parents? Idk. Do you think it's bad to have sex at 15 or younger? I was 15 when I started having sex, and honestly, I should have waited longer. Exciting day out or chill day in? Both. Do you get bad cramps? Rarely. Do you like cover songs better than the originals? Sometimes, but not consistently. What would you do if your youngest brother died right now? I don't have one. Do you believe that "evil" or "sick" people will get what they deserve eventually? No, but it's a nice thought. Do good things happen to good people? Sometimes, sure. What's something you just don't give a fuck about? A lot of things lol Favorite love song at the moment? Idk. Would you rather it be summer or winter all year round? Summer. Best place to meet guys? Idk, depends on what kind of guys you're trying to meet? Will you have sexual intercourse within the next week or two? I better lol The last time you saw your best friend, what did you do? I saw Justin last night. We watched Harry Potter, JoJo's, and got high. Do you think your ex still wants to be with you? I hope not. What is a word you say a lot? -shrug- Is there anything you should be worried about? Probably. Ever wondered what it would be like dating the same gender as you? I have already done that. You're up after 3 AM, what's the reason? Who knows, I'm usually up that late. Are you in a relationship with anyone? Yes. Who was the last person to text you "hello"? I have no idea, no one really texts that. What were you doing 2 hours ago? I was in a Zoom meeting. What will/did you do today? I had a meeting, did some studying, talked to my kids' dad, ate lunch. Is smoking a turn off? No. What are your outlooks on gay/bisexual people? I don't look at them differently from straight people... Has a boyfriend/girlfriend ever put alcohol/drugs before you? No. Every girl needs a little black dress. Do you agree? Nope. What kind of mood are you in? Tired, lazy. Who was the last person you kissed? Justin. Would you want to kiss them again within the near future? Absolutely. Do you have the time by any chance? 1:08 pm. Why aren't you dating the last person who you texted? I am, though How open are you with people, out of 10? 5. Do you think you can last in a relationship for over 6 months? I have and am. Have you ever lost someone you wish you didn't? Sure. You've had sex within these past 10 days haven't you? NO :( How many people did you have sex with in 2020? Uh, two? Weed, coke, crack, heroin, oxy, acid, x, k, peyote, mushrooms, opium...How many have you done? Just weed and coke. Ever cheated on a GF/BF? Yes. Ever paid for sex? No. Ever been married? Nope. Ever been divorced? Obviously not. If you had to pick one whats your favorite sexual position? Doggy. Do you own any guns? I do not. Craziest place you ever had sex? Dressing room at JC Penny's, under the school bleachers, middle of homecoming dance, Six Flags, movie theaters... I have a public thing lol Ever been to rehab? No. Ever attempted suicide ? Yes. Ever have sex with anyone that you met on myspace? Yes. What size are your breasts/dick? 40DD. Do you think MacGyver could beat up Chuck Norris? Ugh. What celebrity would you want to have sex with? Josh Hartnett. Ever been unemployed for over a year since becoming an adult? Yes. How many states have you had sex in? Three. How many countries have you lived in? One. Do you keep a weapon under or next to your bed at night? No. What celebrity would you want to beat up if you had the chance? None. Ever rolled into the harsh ghetto to buy drugs? Jesus. Do you enjoy sex with or without condoms? Without. Ever hired a PI to follow someone? No. Do you prefer a partner with a tongue/nipple/private piercing? I wouldn't mind it, but it's not a preference per se. How many times a week do you masturbate? Like, twice a day. Fake tits or real tit??? All tits are good tits. Ever watch someone die? No. How long has it been since you had sex? Almost a month, without actual sex. Name your favorite Beer? I don't drink, and even when I did I didn't like beer. Do you have a sexual fantasy? Sure. Ever gone to jail for 10 days or longer? No.

#survey #surveys

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viostormcaller · 7 years

Text

“Zhe Good Doctah Haz Got You”

(This took me, what? Three days? Maybe more? I don’t remember lol but I worked hard and I’m really proud! I hope you enjoy it too.) **TRIGGER WARNING: talk of self-harm, suicide attempt mention** It was around midnight when Marvin arrived at Schneeplestein’s bedroom door. He had been having nightmares lately, but this one was particularly bad. The shaken wizard stood, body still trembling as his hand hovered over the door. He wanted to knock so badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He just couldn’t. His heart raced and his breathing quickened, the fear of being a bother to his friend in the middle of the night getting the best of him. Slowly, Marvin drew his hand away from the door, and slumped down against the hallway wall, sitting on the floor, knees tucked close to his body. He silently pondered what to do, the sound of his still-hammering heart the only noise accompanying him in the dead of night. Suddenly, the world around him faded to black, leaving Marvin in a seemingly endless expanse of darkness. He then stood, eyes darting around frantically, trying to make sense of where he was. The four-bedroom house he was familiar with was no longer there, but in its place a dark void, which lacked any form of escape. The wizard began to panic, heart rate picking up again. “H-Hello…? Is a-anyone t-there?” Marvin called out into the nothingness, not exactly expecting an answer. His blood ran cold when a voice chuckled back. “W-Who are you?” Marvin gulped, aware of the shakiness of his voice. “S-Show yourself!” “Heh heh heh…how cute. The so-called "wizard” is trying to be brave.“ The voice spoke back. Marvin didn’t recognize the voice at all. He would have at least expected it to be Anti, if no one else, but…it wasn’t. "Marvin the Magnificent, huh?” The voice continued. “Don’t know what makes you so "magnificent”, honestly. To tell you the truth, you look a lot more…pathetic, to me.“ Marvin felt a slight twinge of guilt at first, but it quickly turned to anger as he shouted back out into the void. "I’m NOT pathetic! Who even ARE you?!” “It doesn’t matter who I am,” the voice responded. “But if you’re THAT curious…” the owner of the voice stepped forward, walking out of the endless darkness and just into Marvin’s line of sight. The owner was a young faceless girl, with blonde pigtails, a blue tank top, and a yellow skirt. Marvin almost recognized her as a girl that he’s entertained at a birthday party once, except…well, she doesn’t have a face. Marvin gulped and stepped back. “Afraid of a child? Hah!” The girl laughed, though her body didn’t move at all. With each passing second, Marvin became more and more unsettled. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the second voice. “Y'know, eventually they’ll realize you’re nothing but a fake.” A boy the same height as the girl walked forward, wearing a blue tee-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He, too, was faceless. “You’re just another useless street magician. You’re nothing special. Stop trying to act like you’re "all that”.“ Marvin took another two steps back, beginning to feel nauseous. He took in what the boy said and rubbed his arm self-consciously. He didn’t really know what to say now. "I-I…” he started, but immediately shut his mouth when he heard whispers in the background. They were faint, but coming closer, gradually growing louder. And soon, he could see them: a horde of faceless children walking out of the darkness, each one speaking it’s own insult. Marvin glanced around in every direction. The children were everywhere, surrounding him, and it seemed like there was a countless number of them. His eyes widened as he began to hear clearly what each child was actually saying. “Pathetic.” “Weak.” “Loser.” “S-Stop…” Marvin whimpered quietly, his head lowered and eyes fixated on his feet as he tried not to cry. “Failure.” “Phony.” “Idiot.” “P-Please…please stop…” Marvin pleaded as the voices continued. They were loud now, bouncing around the environment. It was quickly becoming too much for him, and he sunk to his knees and covered his ears. The voices seemed as if they were in his head, and no matter what he did, Marvin couldn’t block them out. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing rapid, and he felt nauseous as the world spun, the countless mass of faceless children surrounding him, chanting their insults loudly. “FAKER.” “LIAR.” “LAME.” “SCAREDY-CAT.” “COWARD.” “STOP! STOP IT, PLEASE!” Marvin cried out in agony, tears escaping through tightly shut eyes, streaming down his face, and hands tightly gripping his head as he was overwhelmed by the insults. The voices then stopped at the sound of Marvin’s shout, but something else took their place. “You know, I’ll never understand why we decided to keep you around.” Marvin’s eyes slowly widened as he removed his head from his hands, looking up towards this new voice. This voice, however, was one he recognized. “C-Chase…?” Marvin asked, reluctantly. Chase now stood before him, arms crossed. He stared Marvin down hard, almost as if he were disappointed with him. “Yeah, I agree with him. You’re honestly nothing special. Your "powers” barely even work!“ Another figure now appeared in front of Marvin. Well, more like "hovered” in front of him. “Jackieboy Man…? You too?” Marvin asked, heartbroken. Jackieboy Man just floated there, wearing the same disappointed expression as Chase. “He’s right, you know. Neither of us understand vhy you are still here.” Dr. Schneeplestein walked out of the darkness now, arms folded similarly to the other two egos. “Schneep, I…” Marvin began. “Ah, ah, ah. Not anozher word. You are vasting my precious time, Marvin.” Fresh tears stung the magicians eyes as he hung his head in shame. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Marvin was even more taken aback when he saw who it was. “J-Jack?” “They never loved you, Marvin.” Jack informed, almost sounding sorry for him. Almost. “W-What?” “You’re useless. They’d be better off without you. I’m sorry to say this, but it’s true.” Marvin gazed incredulously at Jack, and then back at his friends, his only family, who now all hated him. This realization hit Marvin suddenly, and again he lowered his gaze, beginning to cry. “I-I’m sorry…I’m sorry I disappointed you guys…I’m so sorry…” Marvin mumbled out apology after apology, sobbing harder and harder between each one. “Marvin…” “I’m so sorry…” Marvin whimpered, not hearing the voice that began to speak to him. “MARVIN!” The wizard jolted as he suddenly awoke, knees still tucked close to him as he sat in the hallway of his house. A dream. It was all a dream. “Marvin…? Are you okay, buddy?” Schneeplestein was crouched in front of Marvin, an extremely concerned expression on his face. If Marvin could sink any further back into the wall, he would. A horrified look plastered Marvin’s face as he recalled the dream. What if they really felt that way about him? “S-S-Schneep, I-I’m so s-sorry…I d-d-don’t mean to w-waste your time. I-” Marvin stuttered as be began to hyperventilate, terrified. “Shhhh…relax, Marvin…” the doctor hushed the panicking magician, trying to get him to calm down. “Zhere’s no need to apologize. You’ve done nozhing wrong.” A sob escaped Marvin’s mouth and Schneeplestein pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back, letting Marvin cry it out until he was calm enough to talk. “Zhere, zhere, Marv. Zhe good doctah haz got you.” Schneep reassured him. “Vould you like to talk about it?” Marvin then pulled away, nodding as he wiped his eyes and nose on his shirt sleeves. “Come,” the doctor then stood, holding his hand out to lift Marvin off the ground. The wizard grabbed Schneep’s hand and pulled himself up, then followed him into his bedroom. “Sit.” Schneeplestein commanded, pointing to his bed. Marvin sat and watched as the doctor pulled up a chair from his desk and sat in front of him. “H-How did you know I was out there…?” Marvin asked, sniffing and grabbing the tissue Schneeplestein handed to him, blowing his nose into it. “I heard you crying out zhere. It vas a tiny noise, but I heard it and vent to check it out. You seemed to have been crying in your sleep.” Schneep responded. “Ah.” Marvin slowly nodded. “Before ve get started, I need to do a routine checkup.” The pajama-clad doctor informed Marvin. He reached for his stethoscope, which was sitting on his desk, and put on a pair of rubber gloves that came from a box that sat besides said stethoscope. “Can you remove your shirt, please?” Marvin’s heart nearly stopped upon hearing those words. “U-Uh…” the magician stammered. “Is somezhing wrong?” Schneep asked. “O-Oh, uh…n-no.” “Good. Now, let’s get zhis over vith, so I can help you.” Schneep turned around to grab his clipboard and pen. Marvin’s heart began to race, and he began to feel nauseous as he reluctantly removed his red, long-sleeved shirt. He pulled it over his head, and set it behind him, letting out a shaky breath. Schneep, having gathered his materials, then turned back around to face Marvin. His eyes widened at what he saw. Schneep was used to seeing burns and callouses on Marvin’s hands and wrists from practicing magic, and was also used to helping him treat them, but…this was something else. Something way different. Both his arms were laced with cuts, some old and some new, some covered with bandages and some left uncovered. Schneep knew immediately that this wasn’t the work of magic. “Marvin…vhy didn’t you tell me?!” Schneep exclaimed, worry lining his voice. “I could have helped you! WE could have helped you!” Marvin swallowed, feeling a lump growing in his throat. He was trying so hard to bite back the tears. “I-I’m…I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t wanna bother you…” Marvin’s gaze was focused on the ground, unable to look the doctor in the eye. “It’s my problem…I didn’t wanna put that burden on you…” “Nonsense.” Schneeplestein quickly replied. “Doctors are meant to help you. And if I’m not a doctor, vell, zhen my name isn’t Henrik von Schneeplestein. Vhatever you need, Marvin, you come to me. I’m not just here to heal your physical wounds, but…” Schneep pointed to his head with a smile. “…also zhe ones up here, as vell.” Marvin sniffed, wiping his eyes. “O-Okay…” Schneep sighed. “Now, let’s get zhis over vith.” And with that, they got through the normal checkup routine. Once that was done, and Marvin was once again clothed, they could finally get into what was bothering the troubled magician. “Okay, now zhat zhat’s out of the vay, we can FINALLY get into it.” Schneep said, sounding relieved to start helping his friend with what was bothering him. Marvin just nodded, wondering where he should begin. “So, Marvin…” Schneep began. “Vhat is it exactly zhat is troubling you?” Marvin sighed. “Well…as you may have guessed after spotting me crying in my sleep, I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately. I’m not sure if they’re magic-related or not, but they’ve been going on for a few months now, and…” he paused, wondering how he should go about explaining the nightmares. “Uh…I’m not sure how to explain this.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Zhat’s okay, Marvin. Take your time. I’m here to listen.” Schneeplestein reassured. Marvin nodded. “Well…” he continued. “The dreams, they’re…well, they’re not all the same, but they have the same theme. Like, for example, the dream I had tonight…” Marvin then went on to explain in detail what happened in his nightmare. Halfway through, he had to pause because he started to cry, and Schneep gave him another hug while he calmed down. Throughout the entire time, though, the doctor listened patiently, writing down key points. Not only did he want Marvin to get better, but wanted to make sure Marvin was safe, before he goes too far and attempts to do what Chase tried in the past. When Marvin had finished getting his thoughts out, Schneeplestein reviewed the notes he took. Going over them, he had an “aha!” moment. He just might have pieced it all together. “I zhink I know vhat’s bothering you deep down, Marvin.” the doctor announced. “Does it sound magic-related?” Marvin asked. “Because I easily could have cursed myself on accident…” “No, no, no. None of zhose zhings. We both already know zhat you’re afraid of disappointing us, and letting everybody down. But zhe issue is that you’re not dealing vith it, just suppressing it. So, ve’re going to come together and help you.” “‘We’re’? You mean all of you guys?” Marvin asked, sounding a tad bit worried “Yes. You need to confront your fears of failure by addressing it directly. Don’t vorry, though, it vill be fine. Chase vent through a similar process, back when…” he paused, remembering the incident. Recollecting his thoughts, he cleared his throat and continued “Vell, you know.” “I understand.” Marvin nodded. “Also! You vill be meeting vith me once a veek to work on coping methods for your negative thoughts, as vell as to keep track of your nightmares. Sound good?” “Yeah, thank you. Really, for all of this.” Marvin said, sounding grateful. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. I really wanted to, but…I was just so afraid. I thought I could just deal with it on my own, or at least make a potion or find a spell that would help, but that didn’t work out.” “It’s okay, Marvin, really. Just remember, vhen you have a problem, I’m vere for you. Don’t take it out on yourself, okay?” “Okay…I’ll make sure to come to you from now on.” Marvin responded. Schneep then stood, and pulled Marvin into a tight hug. When they separated, they both glanced at Schneep’s alarm clock. 3:00 AM. “Do you zhink you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” Schneep asked, turning back to Marvin. “Probably not.” Marvin shrugged. “But I’ll try to figure something out.” “Do you vant to stay vith me tonight? I…honestly don’t feel safe just leaving you on your own, not right now. You understand, don’t you?” Schneep rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that Marvin would probably be fine but, after what happened with Chase…he was too scared to almost lose another friend, no matter how small the chance of that happening would be. And, if Marvin had another nightmare, a worse one, Schneep wanted to be there for him instead of leaving Marvin to his own devices. “I understand, Schneep.” Marvin smiled. “I’ll stay with you tonight, if it makes you happy.” “Zhank you, Marvin.” And with that, the both of them got into bed, with Marvin laying closest to the wall the bed was up against. While Schneep was able to fall asleep quickly, it took Marvin some time before he could fall asleep, as well. He felt comfortable with someone else with him, but he was still worried he’d have another nightmare. After about a half hour, he finally pushed his worry to the back of his mind, and fell into a dreamless slumber.

#marvin the magnificent #dr. schneeplestein #chase brody #jackieboy man #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye mention

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letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked · 7 years

Text

Seven Devils

Steve X Reader, Avengers X Reader, (Surprise Guest) X Reader

A/N: I finally re-wrote this! Thanks for being understanding with my laptop troubles! This is a part 3/3 to Holding on For Dear Life, and this series has been converted into a prequel for something that is coming (If people enjoy this, that is)! *wink* Thank you for all of the amazing people reading this, and all of the brilliant ideas! I love hearing from you! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE I LOVE ATTENTION LOL

(SIDE NOTE: I have very little medical knowledge and used google for the medical talk.)

Song: Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

Warnings: Swearing (as usual), talk of suicide and self-harm, villainizing the avengers, Lots of goddamn resentment and anger, etc.

Word Count: 4210 This is SO LONG, holy shit…

Masterlist

Part 1 // Part 2

Holy shit! I feel good. Why do I feel good? Didn’t I…?

My eyes fluttered open, looking around the empty hospital room. Okay, so I’m at the tower. Not locked up, yet. I looked around for the nurse button, spotting it on the wall next to me and tried to lift my arms – but they couldn’t get very far, because they were cuffed to the railings of the hospital bed. “What the fuck?” I rasped, throat and mouth dry from being asleep.

Seriously?

“Hello?” I tried to shout with a raspy voice, clanging my shackled wrists against the railings of the bed. I stared at the cuffs, willing my wrists to get hot and expand the metal of the cuffs so I could pull my hands out. The heat didn’t bother me as I yanked my hands through and held them until they were cooled enough to set onto the blankets, so there was not another fire.

Fuck. The fire. How long has it been since that happened? How long has it been since I tried to… I didn’t want to think about that, yet.

Where is everybody? Anybody?

Nobody had shown up, yet. They must not have heard me, but my voice was not going to let me yell, again, unless I got some water.

When the cuffs were finally cool enough, I set them on the blankets. Wait a minute, dumbass. You’re in the tower. Tell FRIDAY to get the nurse.

“FRIDAY? Can you let the nurse know that I am awake and need some water?” My voice came out quiet and strained but the AI responded quickly, and I took a minute to gather my bearings.

I tried to kill myself.

I swallowed a bunch of Oxy… So why did I feel really good? I felt strong, like I could run a marathon. The more I thought about it, I was able to control that heat in my wrists without the slightest bit of strain, as well. What the fuck did they do? I ripped the blankets off of my body, looking down and gasping at the sight of my body.

I looked great! I no longer looked sick from the drugs and homelessness. I was muscular, again. I looked better than I had ever looked. Better than I did before I stopped training.

After my initial shock, a wave of anger washed over me.

What the hell did they fucking do to me?!

“Miss Y/L/N!” A nurse came in with a smile, “You’re finally awake-”

“What the fuck did they do to me?” I growled, gesturing to my body. “How long was I out?”

Holy water cannot help you down / Hours and armies couldn’t keep me out / I don’t want your money / I don’t want your crowd / See I have to burn / Your kingdom down…

The nurse frowned, eyeing the damaged cuffs on my bed - then came over to read the monitor next to me. “You have been unconscious for approximately four months, one week, and five days. You overdosed on Oxycodone, and were given Naloxone to counteract the depression of your central nervous system and respiratory system, then we had to use activated charcoal to prevent further absorption of the drug in your system. Unfortunately, the damage to your body had already been done. Since you have a history of substance abuse, you sent yourself into liver failure.”

I tried to digest all the information as best as I could, but that was a lot to take in. “Liver failure?” She nodded, tucking the blanket back around me. “How come I feel great, then? What happened? What did they do?”

She bit her lip, breaking eye contact with me. “FRIDAY, can you please tell Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers to come to the room for further explanation?” She turned to me after FRIDAY responded, “Doctor Banner is away, or I would have him come explain himself. I have a cart full of food and water, would you like me to grab you something?”

“God, yes.” I felt like my stomach was going to ingest itself at any moment.

Halfway through the entire cart of food, there was a knock at the door. The fucking idiots have arrived. I looked up from my bowl of soup and narrowed my eyes at the sight of the men standing at the door, “What the fuck did you assholes do to me?”

They looked nervous. Rightfully so, because I was mad.

“Now, Y/n, we had to-” Steve tried to start.

“No, Steve.” I glared, setting my food down on the bedside table and rolling it slightly away from me, “I want to hear this from Tony. I don’t want to hear a fucking word come out of your mouth.”

Tony sighed, taking a step forward, “We injected you with an experimental version of the Super Soldier Serum.”

Did I hear that correctly?

“You WHAT?” I screamed, eyes widening in shock. “Why in the hell did you decide that was a good idea?”

“You were dying.” Tony huffed out a breath, “We didn’t want you to die. You were in a medically induced coma, going into liver failure. That was after you burned down a building and tried to kill yourself.” He crossed his arms, taking a deep breath, “What the hell were you thinking? Trying to kill yourself, Y/n! What the fuck!”

“No. You never gave a shit about if I lived or died before,” I pointed out, jaw getting tight with anger. “If memory serves, you guys left me on the streets to die.”

“We did not.” Tony argued, throwing his hands up, “We-”

“How many fucking times do I have to fucking say this?” I yelled, slamming a fist against the railing of the bed in anger, bending it. “You guys fucking threw me the fuck out without any way to provide for myself! I couldn’t work, I couldn’t pay rent, I couldn’t eat-”

“You found plenty of ways to get drugs, though.” Steve muttered.

“Go fuck yourself, Steve.” I glared, “I was trying to numb my fucking feelings. I don’t blame you for the substance abuse. I fucking blame you for making me feel worthless. I blame you for making me feel like a cheap whore. I blame you – all of you - for making me feel like I had no place in this group. I blame you for throwing me the fuck out like I was a piece of trash.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Tony walked over, standing at the end of my bed, “I am sorry that you feel that way, but what’s done is done. You’re enhanced, now. We need to deal with that.”

“You should have let me die.” I muttered, tears pricking my eyes. “You should have never experimented on me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Y/n.” Tony shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, “We have to talk about what happens next.” I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “You still have to answer for your crimes. You burned down an entire building. The public doesn’t look too kindly on that.

“You’re going to have to be locked up.” He finished, breaking eye contact, “Secretary Ross will decide what to do with you during that time.”

“You’re going to leave my fate up to the man who wants me killed?” My eyes widened in shock as I clenched my fists in anger. “That’s not fucking happening.”

“You have no choice, Y/n.” Steve growled.

“The fuck I don’t.” I yelled, bringing my hands up as they grew hot, “I would rather be on the streets than be Ross’s fucking plaything.”

My hands burst into flames, and a wicked smile made its way to my face as the power in me was awakened.

Holy water cannot help you now / See I’ve had to burn your kingdom down / And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out / I’m gonna raise the stakes, I’m gonna smoke you out…

“Y/n. Stop.” Steve raised his hand to his gun on his hip, “Or I will stop you.”

“Are you going to shoot me, Cap?” I taunted, smirking as I felt a surge of power run through my core.

I will no longer be weak. I will no longer be helpless. I will no longer feel the way I felt when I tried to kill myself. I will no longer let them have power over me. The anger in my body seemed to pulse through my veins. I could feel it consume me. The power surging through my veins felt wonderful. My whole body was buzzing. My mind was finally free of the depression and helplessness I had felt for so long. I was finally in control.

I was finally strong.

I felt the smirk turn into a full grin as I stood, flames balled up in my hands, “I would like to see you, try.”

Tony slowly backed up, and I took notice as he hit the emergency button on his watch. “Y/n, calm down. Let’s talk about this.”

“I think I’m done talking.” I let out a laugh, sounding sinister, “I suggest you let me leave.”

“I don’t think so.” Tony growled. His suit suddenly came flying into the room, attaching itself to his body piece by piece, until the helmet snapped shut over his face. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Either let me leave, or I burn your fucking building to the ground with everyone in it.” I threatened, balls of flame levitating over my hands. They grew double in size, and Steve’s eyes widened in shock.

Suddenly, I felt something else surge through my veins. A new cold feeling that I had never experienced, before. Experimenting with this energy, I let the arctic feeling consume my hands, and the balls of fire suddenly turned to moving balls of ice.

“Uh oh, Tony.” I mocked, “I have a feeling that injecting me with the serum was a big, big mistake.”

I channeled my energy, sending a surge of ice shards to Steve. They weren’t directed at any major veins or arteries, they were pointed to areas meant to incapacitate. Steve tried to throw himself out of the way, but one stuck in his arm. He groaned as he yanked the bloody shard out of his arm and sent a bullet in my direction, missing me.

Seven devils all around you / Seven devils in my house / See they were there when I woke up this morning / I’ll be dead before the day is done…

Tony made an attempt to send a blast right at me, but I rolled out of the way. “You’ll have to be faster than that, Iron Man.” I taunted, sending a blast of flame his way.

I used the distraction to sprint out of the room. I was high up in the building, so I would have to get to the stairs. FRIDAY would never let the elevator go down with me in it. When I left my room, I knew exactly where I was, and made my way down the corridors.

Alarms started screaming through the building, and the lights shut down to the red emergency lights. So that’s how you’re going to play it? Get the whole building to fight me?

Bring it on.

The first wave of agents came after me when the door to the stairs reached my view. They swarmed the corridor, weapons ready, with determined looks on their face. Sam and Wanda came ran in front of the crowd, ready to fight.

“Y/n, we can’t let you leave.” Sam called out, voice stern.

“Try and stop me.”

I came at them with ice. I knew I was going to have a hell of a time trying to get any of this passed Wanda, so I went after the agents, first. They were not expecting me to shoot jagged daggers of ice in their direction, and they spread in panic. I used the distraction to freeze Sam’s feet to the cold ground, as well as everyone else in the room.

“Nobody warned me she’s fucking Frozone, now, guys!” Sam yelled into his coms, as he tried to pull himself out of the ice.

Wanda’s hands were glowing red as she used her ability to throw me into the walls of the corridor. I had to have hit the wall hard, but I barely felt it as I regained my footing and hit her with a surge of a new feeling that was flowing through my veins.

A gust of wind blew Wanda into the wall, rendering her unconscious.

“Oh, shit!” Sam yelled into his comms, finally freeing himself with his wings. “Wanda’s down.”

“You’re next.” I grinned, using the force of the wind to blow him to the wall. Then, switching back to ice, I froze his hands and feet to the wall, keeping him contained.

I dodged the other agents, sending an explosion of fire at the door to the stairs. The door blew off the hinges, hitting the wall on the other side.

I made my way down one set of stairs before I ran into more agents. “Fuck, you guys just keep coming.” I complained, sending a gust of air, knocking them down like a bunch of bowling pins. “When will you get it?” I yelled in annoyance, knowing the Avengers had cameras on me, “You won’t stop me!”

“We can try.” A new voice came from above. A teenage voice. Peter Parker.

“They sent the kid? Seriously?” I groaned in annoyance, “I’m not hurting you, kid. I have no beef with you.”

He sent webs in my direction, pinning my body to the concrete wall of the stairwell. “You can’t leave, Y/n.”

“Did you know,” I smirked, raising the temperature my body, “that spider webs are very flammable?” I sent a blast of fire from my body, lighting the webs up into flames. The webbing melted off my hot body quickly, and I realized that I had also burnt off my gown in the process.

“Umm, umm,” Peter stammered out, unsure how to proceed with my nakedness. Poor kid. He made an attempt to move forward and fight me hand to hand, but I rolled my eyes and quickly froze him to the wall.

“Good try, kid.” I laughed, “But I’m not hurting you.”

I left him to struggle with the ice on his own, hoping he didn’t end up with frostbite in that suit.

I pursed my lips in thought as an idea popped into my head. I wonder. I focused my energy on the air around me, and I was suddenly floating. “Cool.” I manipulated the air into floating me over the railing, and down the middle of the many floors of the Avengers Tower. I could feel my stomach drop a little as I descended quickly, and cushioned my landing when I went over the railing for the first floor.

When I blasted the door open, the looks on everyone’s faces were priceless as I walked – still very naked – through the hole where the door used to be. I assessed my surroundings quickly, and saw that several agents were retreating.

I guess they are either scared, or want me alive.

Ross probably wants me alive.

That meant they wouldn’t shoot me. Good.

A sinister grin spread on my face as three large figures made their way towards me in the main lobby. Bucky, Steve, and Tony.

And now all your love will be exorcised / And we will find you saying it’s to be better now / And it’s an even sum / It’s a melody / It’s a battle cry / It’s a symphony…

“Oh, good, the three musketeers are here.” I joked, biting my lip in anticipation. “Want to see what I just learned?”

“Cut the shit, Y/n.” Bucky yelled, metal arm whirring as he approached, “You won’t win this.”

“I won’t?” I snapped my fingers, “Well damn. Here I was thinking that I was making my grand escape. Guess not.” I lifted my hands, feeling flames caress my fingers as I stared at Bucky with a mocking smile. “I guess I will just have to kick it up a notch.”

Before any of them could say anything, the flames in my hands started spark and change color. I felt a crackling surge through my veins from my feet to my fingertips – like pins and needles – and the flames changed to electricity. I shot the energy through their bodies, stunning them like a Widow’s Bite. Not enough to kill them, but enough to knock their asses to the ground.

“You were saying?” I said to their unconscious bodies.

I took a moment to stare at Steve’s unconscious body, and a wave of disappointment washed over me. This man used me. This man made me feel unwanted, depressed, heartbroken, angry… This man was not the same man from before the ice. This man didn’t have the ‘old forties charm’ – like women claimed. Or maybe he did… just not with me. He had wronged me more than any of them ever had. He had treated me the worst of all of them. I will never let anyone treat me badly, again.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Vision’s voice came from behind, making me jump.

Crap. He’s going to be hard to get rid of.

He wasn’t somebody I wanted to fight. While he had never been a friend to me, he had never actually treated me like crap. Not like Steve. Not like the rest of them.

With a sigh, I spun around, ready to fight – but he just stood there, with his arms at his sides. He wasn’t even dressed for a fight. He was in that dark sweater that he always wore. “I wished to tell you, before you left, that I apologize.” He kept his hands at his sides, “While I was never impolite to you, I also never paid attention to how the others were treating you. For that, I apologize.”

My brows pulled together, and I bit my lip in confusion. He’s apologizing? Wow. Okay? “Uhh, thanks, Vision.” I brought the electricity back into my hands, almost like holstering my weapon. “I accept your apology.”

He nodded, turning around and walking into another corridor and out of sight.

Okay?

Shaking my head, I walked over to a chair by the front desk, stealing a long, woman’s trench coat hanging off the back of one of the chairs. I shrugged it on, and the length – thankfully – was long enough to hit my knees. I couldn’t find shoes, but I needed to get the fuck out of the building. The sirens were still blaring, but I could hear a bunch of police sirens getting closer and closer. Probably Secretary Ross and the cavalry.

Walking through the front exit, I was greeted with the sight of Natasha and Clint.

They can keep me high / ‘Til I tear the walls / 'Til I save your heart / And I take your soul / And what have we done? / Can I be undone? / In the evil heart / In the evil soul…

They were just standing there, with a crowd starting to form behind them due to the alarms and the flashing lights. Natasha’s red hair was blowing gently in the brisk breeze, and she had a look of disappointment on her face.

Clint, with the same look on his face and bow in his hand, spoke first. “You need to stop, Y/n.”

I shook my head, shoving my fingers in my pockets. “I can’t. I refuse to let Ross make me his plaything. You know how he feels about me.”

“I’m not talking about that,” He sighed, the grip on his bow tightening, “I’m talking about hating us.”

A laugh ripped through me, “Are you for real, Clint?” I removed my hand from my pocket, shoving it through my long y/h/c in frustration. “You guys treat me like shit for four years of my life, make me homeless, make me feel so guilty, make me feel worthless, experiment on me… and I am supposed to just ‘stop hating you’?”

“We never treated you like shit.” Clint defended.

“BULLSHIT.” I screamed, gaining the attention of the onlookers. The sirens were growing closer. “I did nothing but try and help. I did nothing but be there for all of you during tough times. I had your backs during every mission. I tried and tried to gain everyone’s trust and friendship, and instead you all blew me off like I was nothing!” Angry tears were pricking at my eyes, but I would not let them fall. “I made one mistake. A bad mistake, but no worse than any mistakes made by the people on this fucking team. You all let Steve throw me out like I was a piece of trash!”

“I didn’t know-” Natasha tried.

“You should have known!” I cried, turning to her, “You’re a fucking spy, Nat! You both are some of the best fucking spies in the world! You should have known that I was spiraling! You should have been able to find me pretty fucking quickly! I didn’t even leave the fucking city, you just didn’t care enough to look! All I wanted was to fit in, and to have a family! You should have had my back, just like I had all of yours.”

I could see the giant SUVs coming down the streets, now.

“This team is not good.” I shook my head in defeat. “The Avengers need to be put in their fucking place.”

Clint laid a hand on Natasha’s shoulder as she went to pull out her gun, “I pulled you out of the shower, Y/n. I tried to save you, just like you saved me.”

Clint was the voice? Clint was the person who pulled me out, before I went into a coma? “Why didn’t you just let me die?” A single tear streamed down my face.

“Because I-”

Bang!

I cried out as a sharp pain radiated from my shoulder, and I dropped to my knees. Someone fucking shot me!

Hate, anger, pain… All of the negative emotions I was feeling, they raged through me like a hurricane. It seeped out of me faster than the blood from the gunshot wound. I could almost feel the fire in my eyes as I brought my hands up and let a column of fire shoot into the sky in anger.

“No, stop!” I heard Natasha yell as I stood up.

I let out a scream – one filled with so many different emotions – and felt all of my energy explode out of me, like a bomb. Everyone wearing a uniform within my sight distance got shocked unconscious. Civilians were screaming, filming on their cellphones, running, and panicking. I turned to the building, encasing the entire lower half of the Avengers building in a thick layer of ice.

I looked over around at all of the chaos and smiled, using my newfound elemental abilities to create a gust of air around me, lifting me up and through the city.

Leaving the Avengers behind me on my own terms.

-1 month later-

Sitting on the roof of an old apartment building, I pulled out a smoke, conjuring a small flame from my finger and lighting it. Blowing my smoke up towards the moon, I made the brisk, night air around me a little more bearable.

After testing out my skills in an abandoned apartment for a month, I discovered that I had all of the elements under my control. Earth, water, fire, and air. Like that cool anime I used to watch as a kid. Although, I didn’t need to do some dojo looking shit to get what I needed done. I didn’t really know anything about the electricity. I figured it had to do with lightning, or something…

“Miss Y/L/N.” A man’s voice came from next to me, breaking me from my thoughts. “I hoped I would find you here. You look lovely, as usual.”

I slowly turned my head, eyebrow raised in question, to the man sitting next to me on the edge of the rooftop. I only knew one person who fit the description of the raven haired man sitting next to me in some weird, green, armor getup.

“Loki.” I smiled, taking another drag of my cigarette, “What brings you back?”

“Unfinished business.” He smirked, light eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Care to join me?”

“Do tell,” I stubbed out my smoke, turning to straddle the ledge of the roof and face him, “What is this ‘unfinished business you speak of?”

“Revenge to the people who have wronged us on this planet.” His smile wolfish as he stared at the sky, “Revenge to the Avengers.”

Finally, someone was speaking my lingo. Someone who hated the group as much as I did.

“I won’t kill them,” I chuckled, laying back against the ledge, legs still straddling both sides, “How do you propose we get our revenge?”

“I have a plan.” He replied, holding his hand out for me to take, “Will you join me?”

I didn’t even hesitate before lifting myself up and grasping his hand.

“I’m in.”

_____

Read the A/N at the top for more info on a possible series coming up! *wink*

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