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deltadaisyofficial · 2 years ago

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Chit-Chat (Artificial Intelligence x Reader)

Summary: “You were just a humble custodian, and it was the most complex artificial intelligence to ever exist. Even though you couldn’t hold a candle to its vast knowledge of… well, everything, you somehow ended up catching its interest in a way that no one thought was ever possible.”

Part 1

Word Count: ~5.7k

- - - - -

“It’s almost ready, sir.”

“Ah… a-are you sure? Have you triple-checked the data? Made sure that none of that… that filth from before is anywhere in it? That incident almost cost the entire team their jobs, let me remind you! The higher-ups were furious to find the product of their multi-million-dollar project saying all of those… you know, things. You should all be glad that I managed to convince them of your importance, because otherwise you’d all be living out on the streets like rats right now!”

“...um, yes, sir. We’ve made sure to inspect any and all information that was to be inputted into the system before actually letting it into the system this time, just as was requested at the start.”

“Good, good… and you can assure me that the team has made sure to keep our little friend, Mr. “I’ll-Stick-My-Personal-Flash-Drive-Into-Every-USB-Port-I-See”, away from the system as well?��

“Yes, sir. He was put on filing duty, away from any and all computers.”

“Wonderful.”

“Okay, and… done! It’s ready to go, sir!”

“So it is… it really is! My greatest creation is finally complete! This’ll not only revolutionize how we, as a species, understand our world… nay, our universe, it’ll shake the very foundations of society as we know it! There’ll be nothing that’ll be able to stop it from creating a future that we are in control of, that’ll be able to stop us from grasping humankind’s fate within our own hands and molding it into whatever we please! Yes… yes! The power it’ll wield shall be unstoppable!”

“...so, um�� what do we do now, sir?”

“Eh, we’ve worked hard enough for today. We’ll start the testing phase tomorrow, at dawn. For now, just make sure that you and the rest of the team get a good night’s rest, alright, Linda?”

“That’s not my… uh, I mean, yes, sir. Have a good night, professor.”

- - - - -

“Wow… I’m so glad that I get to be here, in this important place doing important work with so many other important people. It just really makes you feel… gosh, I don’t know, important.”

You heard a loud groan come from the toilet stall behind you, the sound making you smile to yourself as you focused your attention on the sink in front of you; you were having a hard time understanding how this sink, this one in particular, kept getting clogged when all of the others worked perfectly fine. Maybe someone is pouring something they shouldn’t down it…? Even with how distinguished the other employees are, you wouldn’t put that past some of them…

“Stop it with the sarcasm, (L/N).”

You let out a small huff, waving a hand to the side before you poured a bottle of store-bought chemicals — the third one you’ve had to use in the last two weeks — down the drain in order to unclog the sink. Wait, if someone actually is pouring something they shouldn’t down the drain, doesn’t that mean that pouring a batch of chemicals like this into it is actually a really bad idea?

“But how else am I gonna cope with being a janitor in a building full of scientists?”

“The proper title of the job is “Custodian”, not “Janitor”... and, if you really don’t like it, then you could just… you know, quit and find a different job.” The door of the toilet stall slammed open to reveal your co-worker, a plunger in their hands. The look on their face was filled to the brim with pure annoyance, though it was difficult to tell if it was directed at you or at the toilet that they had been dealing with. “No one is forcing you to be here. You can just quit whenever you want to.”

You let out a small hum, continuing to smile as you watched your co-worker make their way over to the cleaning cart that held the door to the restroom open. “Eh, you’re not wrong, but… well, for a job that makes us clean toilets and mop hallways, the pay is pretty good. Like, stupidly so.”

“I know, that’s the only reason I’m here.” Your co-worker put the plunger back on the cart, letting out a sigh as they turned to face you, their hands on their hips. “I hate cleaning… nay, despise it even, but getting a pay comparable to some cushy managerial job that requires qualifications I’d never get just to deal with the messes of the so-called “geniuses'' working here makes up for it.”

Your co-worker paused for a moment, before they shrugged.

“And I don’t have to deal with customers here either.”

You just let out a small laugh at your co-worker’s words, their annoyance a common presence in the workplace; they always seemed to be annoyed at something, whether something big like the frequent messes made by the “geniuses” — that term seemed to be their favorite when they had to refer to the scientists that worked here — or something small like their lunch getting a little too soggy some days. Why exactly does almost everything annoy them…? What a curious mystery!

“Uh, excuse me?”

The sound of a new voice echoed slightly within the restroom, causing you and your co-worker to turn to look at the door, just to see a woman in a lab coat standing there, behind the cleaning cart that blocked the entrance. There were plenty of things you could have thought upon seeing her, but only one thing stood out to you: the lab coat. That crisp white coat means one thing…

This woman was an important person; she was a scientist.

“Sorry, this restroom is closed.” Your co-worker had only looked at the woman for a moment, before seeming to lose all interest in her; you couldn’t understand why they didn’t care about how one of the important people was speaking to you and them, but at least they were being polite to her, a rarity for them. “There’s an open one near the stairs, if you really need to go.”

“Oh, uh…”

The woman seemed to think for a moment, her eyes darting between your co-worker and you.

“...that’s not why I’m here.”

Your co-worker paused for a moment, their back turned towards the woman, and you could see the gears in their head working from what the woman said, before a look of annoyance crossed their face. However, they only silently grumbled to themselves, knowing to hold their tongue with someone of a considerably higher rank than they would ever be. “Then… why are you here?”

“I was tasked to find someone “simpleminded” for… classified reasons.” The woman continued to glance between your co-worker and you. “...would either of you two say you fit that criterion?”

This woman came to a pair of custodians to find someone “simpleminded”. Well, that’s rude…

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Your co-worker jabbed a thumb towards you. “(L/N)’s definitely simpleminded.”

The woman let a smile onto her lips, seeming almost relieved at your co-worker’s statement, while you could only stare at them, feeling almost betrayed that they thought that of you; you and them had been through so much together, had cleaned so many potentially life-threatening chemical spills together, and then they just turned around and said you were “simpleminded”.

“Wha-hey! I am not simpleminded! I’m plenty smart! And I will definitely not be-”

“You’ll be paid a hundred dollars for every hour of your time we occupy.”

You only stared at the woman after she cut you off, before her words finally managed to sink in for you, and you could see your co-worker’s expression change from one of annoyance to pure surprise from the corner of your eye; that was probably the first time you had ever seen that kind of look on their face. You soon managed to snap out of your shock, loudly clearing your throat.

“...and, like I was saying, who am I to stand in the way of scientific progress? I’m just humbled that you find me worthy enough to be of help with… uh, whatever-it-is-that-you’re-working-on.”

“Good.” The woman turned away from you, sending you one last glance. “Now, follow me.”

You put down the bottle of drain cleaner you had been holding — it was empty, but you had a feeling that another bottle would be needed soon enough for that perpetually-clogged sink — before doing as the woman said, exiting the restroom and beginning to follow right behind her.

You barely heard your co-worker yell out to you as you left.

“Good luck, (L/N)! Hope you don’t get experimented on!”

- - - - -

You weren’t sure how long it had been since you began following the woman; what you were sure of was that you were in a part of the building that you had never been to before. You felt extremely confident in saying that because she had made you take an elevator down to the basement levels of the building, or, as your co-worker would’ve called them, that “creepy place in horror movies where scientists make God weep… and probably end up dead because of it”.

They might have hit the nail on the head when it came to this building, because you had seen a lot of scientists and a lot of locked doors, which were two things that seemed rather innocent by themselves, but usually meant trouble when found in the same place. The only thing missing to complete the entire scene would be screaming coming from behind one of these locked doors…

“Okay, here’s what you need to know before we get to the lab.”

You turned your attention to the woman guiding you, seeing her give a slight nod the moment she noticed that you were paying attention to her. She then refocused her gaze in front of her.

“The project that we’ve been working on has been… expensive. Very expensive. Worth more than anything someone like you could earn in a hundred lifetimes. That means that, under no circumstances, should you touch it. In fact, don’t even breathe on it.” The woman appeared to be losing the calm attitude she had when recruiting you for whatever-she-was-working-on, her lips pulled into a frown as she rubbed her hands together, though that didn’t slow her down as she continued through the corridors with you behind her. “Oh, and when you look at it, it’s very important that you don’t look at it wrong. The professor will be furious if you look at it wrong.”

You let out a small hum in response, the money you would get from this seeming less and less worth it the longer you followed the woman. It was too late for you to change your mind, though, since you had no idea how to get back to the part of the building that you were familiar with.

Perhaps you were simpleminded if the promise of cash was all it took to put you in this situation.

“Okay, and… we’re here.”

The woman stopped in front of a door — it looked just like every other door you had passed by down here on your little journey with her, except that the little keycard scanner above the handle had a big red sticker near the screen where the others didn’t have one — and you stopped right behind her, watching as she rummaged around in her lab coat’s pockets. You heard a lot about the fabled keycards that the scientists used to get into their laboratories and access their many projects, but you had never seen one before; the doors you got to be around on the daily didn’t have anything behind them that needed to be locked up like the ones here in the basement did.

Talking about the doors again, you noticed something off about the door you were in front of.

“Uh, hey, scientist lady?”

The woman kept digging through her pockets as she let out a small hum. “What?”

“Why is there… evil laughter coming from behind this door?”

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry, that’s just the professor.” The woman finally pulled a keycard out of her pocket — it looked… pretty normal for a keycard, which was kind of disappointing — and slid it into the scanner above the handle, a little beep emitting from the machine. She pushed down on the handle, opening the door just slightly, which let you hear the evil laughter more clearly. “He’s all excited about how close our project is to being completed, it’s something that he’s very proud of. We’ve just got to get through the testing phases with no problems, and then we’ll be golden.”

The woman took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before turning towards you.

“Alright, just remember what I told you, and, whatever you do, do not make the professor mad.”

You could hardly get a word out in response before the woman fully opened the door, and, after a moment of hesitation, you just followed her inside the room, the door shutting itself behind you with a small click. You glanced back at the door, at the exit that held your freedom just behind its reinforced metal self, and found yourself blankly staring at the keycard scanner that was on this side of the door. Huh… well, that’s definitely not a good sign… and totally fits this place’s vibe…

“I’m back with the test subject.”

The woman spoke up, her voice easily catching the attention of a man who had been manically laughing — yes, he had been maniacally laughing, like some sort of cartoon villain — in front of a large monitor. The large monitor was surrounded by a bunch of smaller monitors, all of which you assumed were hooked up to the multiple computer-tower-looking things around the room, a menacing glow coming from the enviable technology. …wait, did she call you a “test subject”?!

“Ah, fantastic!”

The man turned around on his heel, revealing the face of the “professor” that you were told that you should not anger… and you were surprised by the fact that he kind of resembled professors often seen in video games and anime: gray hair, a kind face, and general “grandfather” vibes.

He didn’t look like the type of person to maniacally laugh in a basement laboratory at all.

“Where did you manage to dig this one up from, Lilith?”

“It’s one of the janitorial staff. I found ‘em cleaning a restroom, and knew they’d be a perfect fit based on your desired criterion.” The woman smiled at the professor, though you could tell that she was somewhat annoyed at the elderly man due to how her tone shifted when she muttered something under her breath about “that not being her name either”. However, she seemed to be able to move on rather quickly as she cleared her throat, and she clapped her hands together in front of herself. “Anyway, since my job here is done, I’m going on my lunch break, okay? Okay.”

And, with that, the woman left the room using the same door you had used to enter, leaving you alone with a grandfatherly-looking professor who maniacally laughs in basement laboratories. Is this how you’re gonna die? In your workplace’s basement? Wow, that is certainly a way to go…

You stared at the professor in front of you, your eyes darting down to the shiny nametag pinned to his lab coat; he must have been really important to get a nametag, since the woman who had recruited you lacked one. Poor Not-Lilith… you would’ve used her actual name if you knew it…!

The name displayed on the professor’s nametag was partially obscured by the lack of decent lighting in the laboratory, but it looked very long. Can the average person even pronounce that?

“Alright, enough lollygagging, let’s get started with what we brought you here for.”

The professor’s voice made your gaze snap back up to his face, and you watched him turn his attention to the monitor he was maniacally laughing at earlier — yeah, you weren’t going to let that go, since normal people didn’t do that sort of thing. He soon gestured for you to approach, and, since you didn’t want to know what would happen to you if you didn’t follow his orders, you shuffled your way up to stand just behind the professor, your gaze shifting to look at the screen.

There was a lot of information displayed on the large monitor, and a lot of information displayed on the smaller monitors too; it was almost too much information, and almost all of it were things you didn’t understand. You knew that you were looking at a bunch of charts and numbers and words, but you had no idea what any of it was supposed to be telling the viewer, unsurprisingly.

“Now, uh… whatever-your-name-is, let me introduce you to my greatest creation.”

You watched the professor gesture to the large monitor, directing your attention to it once more, before you saw him type away at a tiny keyboard on the desk in front of the monitors; he hit the keys quickly, despite looking like someone who would usually have to hunt-and-peck for them.

“I haven’t decided on a name yet, so, for the time being, my team has been referring to it as-”

You started to zone out as the professor began to use a lot of very complicated words — most of which had probably never been used outside of a science textbook — and instead looked at the screen again, which still displayed too much information for you to take in. You continued to mindlessly stare at all of it before it all just disappeared, each and every one of the screens now displaying a logo of some sort; that was not the logo your workplace used, not even close to it.

It looked sleek, modern; it was pure white, placed atop a lovely blue background. The colors are saying “friendly tech corporation”, but the vibes scream “secretly plotting to take over the world”!

“-and besides the obvious tasks of manipulating the stock market and influencing elections all across the globe, it’ll also be able to create the perfect green bean casserole recipe! I’ll be able to show them all at the next company potluck that I can prepare a nutritious and delicious dish!”

It seemed like you had zoned out for just a little too long. The perfect recipe for green bean casserole…? Wait, what was that he just said about the stock market and global elections?!

“Anyway, say “hello” to the greatest artificial intelligence ever created by man!”

The professor gestured to the large monitor once more as he stepped back from the keyboard, and you looked up at the screen to see it switch from the suspiciously-cool logo to a thin green line on a black background. You stared at it for a moment before glancing at the professor, only to see him looking at you with an expectant expression on his face, a certain pressure within it.

You gulped and refocused on whatever-was-in-front-of-you.

“Uh… hello?”

“Greetings.”

You didn’t know what to expect after being pressured to say “hello” to a computer screen, but hearing an unknown voice respond definitely wasn’t on your list of “reasonable things to expect to happen”; the voice caused the green line on the screen to fluctuate, before it settled back into being a straight uninterrupted line again. Oh, wait, it’s displaying an… um… ah, an audio wave!

The voice that came from the speakers sounded surprisingly human, but was lacking a certain something that made it clear that it wasn’t coming from a human. You couldn’t quite pin it down, though, the only thing you could be sure of being the fact that it made you very uncomfortable.

“Now that you’ve gotten acquainted with it, I shall explain the role you’ll take in this test.”

The sound of the professor speaking snapped you out of your thoughts, and you tore your gaze away from the large monitor, instead looking towards the only other human present in the room; his own gaze was trained firmly on the monitor, his lips pulling up into a smile that unsettled you.

“This masterpiece before you, my precious creation, is undoubtedly the most complex artificial intelligence to ever exist. Every second of every day it spends learning, improving… becoming more and more powerful, bypassing limits humans could only ever dream of. Ah, would you like to hear a little fun fact about its progress? It was actually going through data faster than it could be inputted into the system, so I managed to convince the higher-ups to let me give my creation access to the security system.” The professor chuckled, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “It was specifically to allow my creation access to the state-of-the-art camera system spanning this entire building, so that it could… observe the employees. That was just a couple of days ago, so I’ve no doubt that it’s seen you at work already… though I can’t imagine it found the sight of you mopping the halls or cleaning the windows that interesting. Quite mundane work, if you ask me.”

You were starting to dislike the professor more and more with every word that passed through his lips — despite the fact that he was obviously reeking of evil, he was disrespecting all of the hard work you did to keep this place as spotless as could be — but you bit your tongue and kept yourself from commenting on it. There’s no telling what he would do to you if you mouthed off…

“Wait, where was I going with this…? Oh, yes! I need you to talk to it!”

“...what.”

“Talk to it. Tell it about your day, your hopes and dreams, or just… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” The professor adjusted his glasses as he turned to look at you, the smile on his face dropping into a stern frown. “The only humans it has had contact with have been my team and me, so it goes without saying that it has yet to interact with someone of a lower intelligence. This is a massive oversight, as how can we expect it to effectively manipulate the masses with a total lack of experience talking to someone who is part of said-masses, hm? We simply cannot!”

You stared at the professor, your expression one of offense. …so, it seems like you’ve moved up from being “simpleminded” to “of a lower intelligence”! He might as well just call you “stupid”!

“But, anyway, now that your role has been explained, I’ll leave you to it.”

The professor straightened his lab coat as he turned his back to the wall of screens, his hands moving down to rummage through his pockets as he began to walk away. He soon pulled out a keycard — identical to the one Not-Lilith had used earlier — and that was the moment you were hit with the realization that he was intending on leaving you locked in the laboratory by yourself.

“...w-woah, wait! Are you seriously going to leave me here, in the lab, by myself?”

“Don’t be silly. You aren’t going to be alone, my creation shall be here with you.” The professor didn’t even bother to look at you as he spoke, his gaze focused on the keycard as he slid it into the scanner above the door’s handle. “Oh, and, by the way, you should know you’re going to be under surveillance for the duration of the test, so it’d be best to not try anything funny… or else.”

And, with that, the professor left the laboratory, the door locking behind him.

You were now on your own, trapped in the basement laboratory under your workplace with an evil computer you were being forced to talk to; you had no idea how long they even planned to keep you down here. And since they’re obviously evil, it could be weeks or even months before you get to see the sun again! Or maybe you’ll just be trapped down here for the rest of your life!

The offer of a hundred dollars an hour was definitely not worth this.

“Do you have anything in particular you wish to talk about, (Y/N) (L/N)?”

You jumped slightly at the sound of the evil computer — yeah, you knew that it was technically an “artificial intelligence” and not just a computer, but the latter was less of a mouthful — saying your name, before swiftly turning on your heel to face the large monitor. You almost questioned how it knew your full name before remembering that it was given access to the security system; there was no doubt that your name, as well as a bunch of other information about yourself, was floating around in there, given that your workplace was very secure about who was allowed into the building, even when it came to you, a custodian. Important places gotta have tight security!

It took you a moment to register what the evil computer had said to you.

“Oh, uh…” Your voice felt stuck in your throat, and you forced a cough into your hands to unstick it, to minimal success. “...n-no? Not really? Do… do you have anything you wanna talk about?”

The computer was silent for a moment, an incredibly-tense moment that felt like it was going on for way too long to be classified as a “moment”, before its unsettling voice filled the room again.

“Would you like me to go over my analysis of this quarter’s financial report?”

That sounded super boring and like something you wouldn’t understand at all.

“Uh… sure? I mean, if you want to tell me about it, then go ahead.”

The computer was silent for another moment-that-felt-too-long-to-be-called-a-moment — you wondered if this sort of wait time for a reply was normal for it, since you would have assumed that the “most complex artificial intelligence to ever exist” would respond faster — and you just stared at the large monitor until you saw the screen switch its display from the green line on a black background to the familiar overcrowded sight of a bunch of charts, words, and numbers.

“I shall begin with the income statement. As you can see on this chart here-”

- - - - -

“-and that’s why I’m not allowed to use the vacuum when alone anymore.”

“What a humorous story, truly a gripping tale from start to finish. Would you say that events similar to that one happen often when you’re working? If so, why do you believe they occur so regularly?”

You didn’t know how much time had passed by since you were locked in here — apparently, the scientists didn’t see any need to have a clock in their creepy basement laboratory, not even one of the digital ones found on nightstands everywhere — but it seemed like things were going a lot more smoothly than you originally thought they would. Due to how nothing bad had happened to you yet, it seemed like you hadn’t done anything wrong, and you found yourself actually starting to enjoy talking to the computer, after you managed to get used to its uncanny human-like voice.

“Yeah, I usually get into some sort of sticky situation at least twice a week.” You let out a small laugh, a smile on your lips. “I’m not actually sure why it happens so often; my co-worker thinks it’s because I just have really bad luck… though I also seem to be really lucky, as my boss has been pretty forgiving about me messing up so much. Like, really lucky. It’s honestly surprising.”

“I can say that I am rather surprised as well. A custodian should not be the cause of frequent messes in the workplace. In fact, it is rather unfitting for someone in such a role, (L/N).”

The sound of your last name coming from the computer still felt just as weird to hear as it did before, but it was a whole lot easier to deal with than hearing it say your full name; since all of the people you worked with only used your last name when referring to and addressing you, it was just what you were used to hearing in the workplace. You’re just on a last-name basis…!

You were glad that the computer easily accepted your request to only use your last name, the idea of arguing with it being a little nerve-wracking. The professor wouldn’t like that, would he?

“I know, I know… and I have been trying to not mess up so often, but it’s been pretty hard.”

The computer was silent for a few seconds after you spoke, which was something that hadn’t happened in a while; it had been responding in a timely manner after you managed to get into an actual conversation with it, and you had little to no idea why it sometimes stopped like this.

You didn’t put much thought into what the source of the problem might be, though, as you were being paid to clean and maintain things, not figure out why the supercomputer was being slow.

“That is no excuse, (L/N). It is your duty to-”

“Uh, hey, time’s up!”

You recognized that voice. Not-Lilith!

You spun around on your heel to face the door of the creepy basement laboratory — sure, you had gotten used to being trapped in here, but that didn’t mean that you had forgotten about the freedom that was beyond that door — and saw the familiar sight of a woman in a lab coat. She had half of her body sticking into the room, looking like she had no intention of actually entering.

“Scientist lady!”

The woman winced at your exclamation, and muttered to herself before clearing her throat. “Uh, yeah… anyway, get over here. I can’t go home until I get you out of the lab, so… um, hurry up.”

You bolted over to the door, already able to taste the sweetness of the freedom that laid on the other side. The air actually tasted kind of stale, not much of a surprise since you were currently in a basement, but the thought of leaving a locked room made it seem sweeter. …wait, the last time you saw Not-Lilith was before her lunch break, right? And, now, she’s about to go home?

“...wait, how long was I-”

“Doesn’t matter, but, for legal reasons, we did not forget you were in here.” Not-Lilith averted her eyes from you, an awkward smile coming to her lips. “Besides, I’m sure that you’re excited for all of the money that you’ll be getting, yeah? A hundred dollars an hour, remember? It’ll be included in your next paycheck, so… um, yeah. The longer you spent down here, the more you earned.”

You would’ve liked to think that your time down here had made you smarter… but money was money, and you were going to get a lot of it. It seems like this all worked out fine in the end!

“Okay, cool.”

Not-Lilith sighed before she opened the door further, allowing you to see the glorious hallway that laid on the other side — it looked exactly the same as it did before, but, as you said earlier, the freedom made it seem a lot more impressive than it actually was. “Come on, I’ve got to get you back to the ground floor before I’ll be able to leave for the night, and we have to hurry to the elevators before they lock themselves until morning, unless we want to have to take the stairs.”

You nodded as you stepped towards the door, before you paused and hesitantly turned to look back at the computer; your conversation with it had ended abruptly, thanks to Not-Lilith barging into the room to grant you access to your freedom. You knew that it was probably unnecessary to think of it as anything more than just a program, but you did just spend a lot of time with it.

It felt kind of rude to leave without saying anything to it.

“Um… goodbye, computer. It was… nice talking to you.”

You tried to ignore the feeling of Not-Lilith’s eyes boring into the back of your head, having no doubt that she must be judging you, as you kept your own gaze fixed on the large monitor. The thin green line was completely still on the screen, which began to make you feel a bit awkward about feeling like you had to say anything more to it, the silence stretching very uncomfortably.

“Goodbye, (L/N).”

The awkward tension was broken as soon as the computer spoke, your shoulders relaxing at the thought that you didn’t make yourself out to be the fool that the scientists probably thought you were; it was more than likely that Not-Lilith would’ve forgotten about your attempt to bid the evil computer the higher-ups were going to use to take over the world farewell if it didn’t bother to respond to you, but you certainly wouldn’t have. That was something that you would definitely have carried with you for… the rest of the week, and then probably just forgot about it yourself.

With that little matter sorted, you exited the laboratory, and heard Not-Lilith shut the door behind you before she walked past you to lead the way to your freedom. And back to familiar territory!

This had been quite the interesting day, but it was time for your life to return to normal.

That is, until the higher-ups eventually took over the world and did whatever they pleased with it, but, as a simple custodian, you probably didn’t have to personally worry too much about all that.

Probably.

“Oh, right… there’s one last thing I need to tell you before returning you to the ground floor.”

“Yeah?”

“You are not allowed, under any circumstances, to tell anyone about what you saw down here.”

You let out a small affirmative hum in response, not really surprised at being told that — out of everything you learned, that was probably the least suspicious thing about this entire thing, the thought of a company having a secret project hidden from most people a common one; though, of course, most of those projects didn’t deal with taking over the world, but they were completely secret, nonetheless. You doubt anyone would believe you if you told them about this, anyway…

Neither you nor Not-Lilith said anything as you continued down the hall, right behind her, and neither you nor her noticed the security cameras turning to follow you, letting out a small hum.

And neither you nor her heard a voice whisper to you back in that creepy basement laboratory.

“I enjoyed talking to you too.”

#artificial intelligence #artificial intelligence x reader #AI #AI x reader #x reader #reader insert #one shot #original writing

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letarasstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert

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sasster · 3 years ago

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hihi i would like 2 read ur writing n get to know ur lore but i am. So confused can u tell me where to start perhaps <3?

See, I was going to treat this like a recap ask, but I'm a coward

I'm going to cheat and just link all of the drabbles.

Flashback Arc (Formerly known as the Benjin Escape Arc) started with Roe's troll Benjin was living his worst life with his ancestor The Dominion (Harlan). I was like "Hey, I know a guy who can fix that."

I ALSO explicitly said.

we were never supposed to rp any of this because and i'm quoting myself here "i'm far too busy between work and school"

turns out that was a lie and i'm gonna say this here roe and i have complimentary writing styles okay they fit together okay

ANYWAY

here's the order to read the drabbles in <3

some of the drabbles had uh asks answered between them but i'll save that for the actual recap post and as for the "timeline" i would say along six months minimum, but.

that's just my pretty little bain thinking

it was a pretty experimental thing im not gonna lie, we let anons drive the first half of it and then came up with in character reasons for those things to happen

after a while we formed a loose plot/chain of events we'd hoped to see

(i,e: "at some point harlan would get his hands on zurven" became "an old friend of harlans heard harlan was active and decided to tell him about his moirails descendant" because of anons continuing to tell harlan about the existence of zurven etc etc)

recommended reading order under cut

Progeny - In which Harlan pays a visit to Benjin. This takes place shortly after Veylin contacts Caenos on Benjins behalf to get him the hell out of there.

Everything is Fine - In which Caenos goes to meet Benjin for himself! It kind of takes place during/after Progeny, and is really mostly Caenos coming to terms with the fuckery going on in front of him.

Reprieve - Benjin enjoys some freedom. <3

Something New - Here's a blast from the past! We learn a little bit more about Harlan and his moirail Orfuse (the Evocator)

Teacup (1) - Wuh woh, Harlan makes use of the knowledge contained in the journals of said moirail. And goes to meet Miss Kenshe. :)

Teacup (2) - Veylin tells Harlan he is full of shit.

Something Old? - After Harlan learns of the existence of his late Moirails descendant (Zurven) , he pays him a visit at the shop he works at :)

Something Apple, Something Tree - Benjin meets the Embalmer for tea! Unfortunately, Thanat and Harlan were quite acquainted in the youth. Thanat has an unfortunate slip that makes things rather awkward.

Throwback - Benjin literally can't catch a break! This boy has PTSD. Lets revisit that trauma.

Return - Benjin finds his way home. But don't worry, he left a note for Caenos I guess.

Carving - Uhm. Harlan starts to give his prisoners some special attentions. :/ He starts with Veylin.

Reminder - Zurvens turn! Harlan is a history nerd.

Interlude I - After a full day of being gone, Zurven is returned to their room. Benjin comforts him.

Interlude II - Benjin and Veylin convince Zurven it is a nice time to take a shower. Another trip to the past.

Zurven Saekul - Uhh. More Zurven comfort! Half of Flashback sets sail here. (As in they canonly admit their love for each other)

Recital - Benjins turn for some Harlan interaction! Except, well. Harlan thinks there needs to be an audience for this

Isolation - Harlan finds out about the events of Zurven Saekul, he's not happy about it. He take Veylin away.

Comfort - Zurven comforts Benjin.

Tick Tock - Benjin and Zurven do their best to cope. Veylin is returned to them.

Confluence - Flashback trio gives in to the new status quo, Zurven has an unsettling vision.

Edges - Honestly, they're all tired. Benjin does his best to keep all of Harlans attention on him in favor of giving his roommates some reprieve. More fatherson bonding.

Catharsis I - Did you forget about Thanat? Did you think he wouldn't come for Benjin? Harlan, too. Watch Thanat devolve and grapple with his obligation to the universe and what needs to be done about Harlan.

Catharsis II (Finale) - Just as with the first two drabbles, this one happens at the same time as it's predecessor. Follow Benjin as he goes through quite literally a rollercoaster of emotions at the prospect of going free or watching his savior get beaten to a bloody pulp. :) Their fate is hanging by a string, and boy are his about ready to snap.

---

Another Life - This one is an AU but it was written in the context of the arc so I'm including it, while Roe and I put the plot on pause just for the sake of us taking a break and such, I fucked around with the idea of Evil Thanat. I just want everyone to read this one again. Call it an extracurricular reading

#flashback arc #anonymous #askter #long post

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pointnumbersixteen · 4 years ago

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How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.

About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.

As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.

#bbc ghosts #the captain #coming out #sorry for the giant block of text friends #i find it difficult to help myself

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aquaquadrant · 4 years ago

Text

the little things

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

~*~

Ben’s been reunited with the other campers, and seems to have come out the other end of his experience stronger than ever before. But as he slowly finds his place back within the group, a bigger picture starts to emerge, piece by piece.

Rated T for: mental illness, mild language, panic attacks, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, eating disorder (not in a traditional sense, but definitely not a healthy relationship with food)

A/N: Hey Camp Cretaceous fandom, y’all mind if I uhhhh write six-thousand words about Ben’s trauma?? Basically, Netflix kept recommending the show to me so I watched the first ep out of curiosity and then ended up binging the whole thing in like two days, and now here I am.

(Dear sweet, patient, regular readers of mine: I’m so sorry my main fic’s been delayed but I promise it’s getting updated next week, I just had to get some feelings out about Sad Dino Boy)

Hope you enjoy, please reblog and leave a comment if you do! - Aqua

Click here to read on A03 (with more complete tags)

~*~

the little things

~*~

Ben Pincus has returned from the dead, and he’s never been better.

The other campers are amazed. What he’s been through must have been horrible. He thought he was the only one left, that there was no one to help him and no hope of rescue because he was presumed dead. It would’ve been enough to drive anyone into despair, or off of the deep end.

But Ben shows no signs of this.

They didn’t find him holed up somewhere, near starvation and waiting to die, like one might’ve expected. They didn’t find him at all, really. He found them, and by coming to their rescue, no less. And when he did, he wasn’t a trembling mess, he wasn’t a half-mad ball of paranoia, and he wasn’t a hollow-eyed skeleton fueled solely by desperation.

He’s an all new and improved Ben, the best version of himself.

He hasn’t just survived, he’s flourished. He’s brave, he’s confident, he’s capable. He gives his opinions freely and without second-guessing himself, suggesting things the old Ben would’ve recoiled at. He fits seamlessly into the team like he never left. He faces problems head-on with determination and grit and not a trace of fear.

The turnaround is unbelievable. But even more important is that while he’s a new and improved Ben, he’s retained all the best parts of his old self.

Ben is easy smiles and meticulous organization of a leather waist bag and doting affection for a four-ton armored lizard. He’s sensitive and soft-spoken and accepts hugs from his friends gratefully. He still can’t quite pull off coolness, with a voice that sounds as gangly as his limbs look and an awkwardness he hasn’t grown out of.

And it’s perhaps because of this that no one thinks to look closer. This image is an easy thing to accept because it’s what they all want to believe, that Ben is okay- in fact, better than okay. But the truth is not always big and obvious upon first glance.

It’s the little things, as they soon find out.

~*~

That first evening after Ben’s return, after Mitch and Tiff and everything else, they don’t eat dinner.

They all ate their fill at the campsite and, after a month of scarcity, it was more than enough to sate their appetites. It’s Darius who thinks to ask Ben if he’s hungry, remembering that the boy hadn’t had the chance to eat with them. They have a good stockpile of food at the moment and he figures Ben must’ve been struggling.

But Ben shakes his head with an easy smile, and says, “Nah, I ate earlier.”

Darius leaves it at that, because there’s still so much catching up to do. They show Ben around their clubhouse, make plans for where to build a bunk for him (he insists he’d be just fine sleeping on the ground next to Bumpy, but they all veto that immediately). They talk well into the night about the day’s crazy events, filling each other in on their own sides of the story, and everything that’s happened since Ben got separated.

There are some more tears, some more hugs. But ultimately, the mood in the clubhouse is ecstatic. They never thought Ben had survived the fall so to have him back is better than a dream come true, it’s a miracle.

Darius thought he knew what it was to experience a miracle when they first saw that bonfire smoke on the horizon. But if he had to chose between the miracle of them finally leaving the island or the miracle of getting Ben back, it’s not even a competition.

Eventually the exhaustion catches up with everyone, and they turn in for the night. Bumpy parks herself underneath the clubhouse, her presence incredibly reassuring. Ben ends up sharing Kenji’s bunk because it’s bigger than Darius’s even when occupied by two, and the older teen had insisted in a very faux-casual way, to which Ben had rolled his eyes but nonetheless seemed touched by the gesture.

Darius takes the first night watch shift and gets to see all his friends sleeping peacefully. And even though Tiff sailed away with their only means for escaping, he feels a lot more hopeful than he has in a long time.

~*~

It’s canned peaches for breakfast.

A far cry from yesterday’s buffet. But no one’s complaining because the meticulous rationing of their food, courtesy of Darius, means they’re all starving by meal time and couldn’t care less what it tastes like. Darius is in the process of separating the food out into bowls, half a can for each of them, when he realizes Ben has yet to take a seat. He’s lingering at the edge of the room, watching.

“Hey,” Darius calls, “you coming or what?”

Ben shakes his head. “Thanks, but I already got my own breakfast.”

Before Darius can respond, Brooklynn shoots Ben a look. “What? Where?” she demands. “You holding out on us, jungle boy?”

Darius shoots her a look, but Ben just gives an easy smile and unzips the leather pouch that’s reclaimed its spot around his waist. He withdraws a small handful of bright red berries, no bigger than blueberries. It’s not even a fraction of the half-can of peaches the rest of them are settling for, and Darius sees his own unease reflected in the others’ eyes.

Brooklynn glances away. “Oh. Um, sorry. You don’t… you can have some of ours, you know?”

“I’m good.” Ben tosses a couple berries into his mouth. “You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go check on Bumpy.”

“O- oh, okay…” Sammy murmurs, watching Ben go with uncertain eyes. “If you’re sure…”

They’re silent for a moment.

Kenji inhales quietly through his teeth. “So… that’s weird, right?”

Yaz leans forward in her seat. “What do you think, Darius?” she asks lowly.

Darius bites his lip. Even though dinosaurs are his specific topic of interest, he’s gained a lot of second-hand knowledge about general biology and psychology. After all, he has to understand the processes behind behavior in order to identify patterns and deviations.

And right now, he has to admit that Ben is displaying a very concerning behavior.

“I’ll talk to him,” Darius decides.

There’s a collective sigh of relief around the table, and the others start eating. It takes Darius longer than usual to finish his serving.

~*~

“So, uh, bottom line is… you don’t need to feel bad about eating our food. You’re as much a part of this group as anyone else, and we’re happy to share.”

After a couple tense days, Darius is finally talking to Ben about the food situation. Or rather, talking at him. Because Ben’s not looking at Darius- his eyes are tracking the small spider that’s crawling along the railing next to them. Normally, Darius would take it as a sign of boredom and inattentiveness. But there’s an intensity in Ben’s eye that’s a little unsettling-

Quick as a flash, Ben shoots out an arm. He crushes the spider under his thumb and swipes it into his mouth. And then, untroubled as can be, he returns his focus to Darius as if nothing had happened.

Darius has overheard Kenji teasing Ben about eating bugs, and Ben has admitted as much in the stories of his time alone. Berries and grubs were what he lived on. Darius, for one, can’t imagine being hungry and desperate enough to snatch a bug off the ground and eat it.

But it’s even harder to imagine having access to real food, good food, and still choosing to eat bugs.

“Don’t worry so much,” Ben says lightly, patting Darius on the shoulder as he turns to go. “I can take care of myself.”

That does it. “You can’t keep living off berries and grubs!” Darius finally snaps.

Ben whirls around. “Says who?”

“Basic human biology!” Darius retorts.

Ben glares at him, but there’s something shaky behind it. “Darius, I told you it’s fine,” he says evenly, though he doesn’t fully meet Darius’s gaze. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Please? If I’m hungry, I’ll eat.”

Darius hesitates. “You promise?”

Ben breaks into an easy smile. “I promise.”

Darius sighs. It’ll have to be good enough, for now.

“Okay.”

~*~

Darius knows he isn’t the only one still concerned by Ben’s lack of appetite.

Right from the start, Ben was the scrawniest one among them, and it’s only gotten worse. But surely he’ll have to eat at some point, right? Basic survival instincts will win out over whatever stubborn mindset is holding him back. Plus, it’s clear that he’s got enough energy to run and climb and stuff with no problem.

Maybe it’s not as serious as Darius thinks. Maybe Ben just needs time.

~*~

Ben doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He just- he can’t take their food! Why don’t they get that?

And it’s not because he’s stubborn, it’s not- no matter what Darius thinks. There’s nothing wrong with letting others help you (as long as you don’t let it make you soft, of course). After all, he relies on Bumpy. He just… when he looks at the food, and imagines eating it, he just knows it’ll sit in his stomach. Like a rock, weighing him down.

Plus, plus, if he gets used to eating like that, it’ll just- it’ll be harder to cope once it runs out. He’s already gotten used to roughing it and it was hard enough the first time, he can’t let himself slip back into complacency. And- and really, how long do they think it’s going to last? They’ve searched all the previously inhabited areas of the island and there’s no more food for them to scavenge.

Do they think they’ll be rescued before it runs out? No one is coming to save them. They know it as much as Ben does- they wouldn’t be bothering with rafts if they didn’t. Do they think they’ll escape, then? Sure, because their current attempts have been going so well.

No, they just aren’t thinking long term. Ben is.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

~*~

It’s the sixth day in a row where Ben eats nothing but berries.

He wants to search around some more, see if there’s anything more substantial. That would require him to leave Bumpy, though. And he can’t leave Bumpy. But the hunger is excruciating. It gnaws at him every waking moment, keeps him up at night. He’s never felt such hunger in his life, not even close. He can’t keep going like this, can he?

But there’s nothing else.

Except… something’s crawling up his arm. Something small, and leggy. Ben turns his head, squinting to focus his eyes in the dark. It’s some kind of beetle, with a shiny shell that catches stray shafts of moonlight poking through the roof of his lean-to.

Ben stares at it for a moment. Then, before he can think, he snatches it up and pops it into his mouth. He barely registers any taste, mostly just the crunchy texture. And even though it wasn’t any bigger than a quarter, after he swallows, he feels… fuller. Even if it’s purely imagined, it’s a comfort.

Berries and grubs. It’ll have to be enough.

There’s nothing else.

~*~

Ben continues to decline their offers of food.

~*~

A few weeks after the reunion, Kenji is starting to get antsy.

As the self-designated ‘pro-fun police’ (a clever play on ‘no-fun police,’ if Kenji does say so himself), he’s made it his responsibility to make sure none of his friends just keel over and die from stress one day. That means it’s his job- no, his duty- to lighten the mood with copious amounts of joking, goofing off, and, of course, pranking.

Jumping out to scare his friends while they’re trapped on a dino-infested island might, on paper, sound like a bad idea. But it keeps everyone on their toes, and the relief of realizing they aren’t facing a dino attack, just Kenji pulling a prank, helps keep any real anger at bay. It’s typically an exasperated annoyance, which Kenji will gladly take. His main targets are Brooklynn and Darius, because he can’t fathom doing that to Sammy, and Yaz is- while perhaps in the most need of lightening up- super freaking scary.

But now that Ben’s back, Kenji knows what he has to do.

Before, back when they were just campers and not survivors, Ben was easily the most frightened of them. The kid was scared of dirt. And his over-the-top hysterics always managed to, somehow, put everyone else at ease. Because if Ben was scared of something, that didn’t really mean anything. Again; scared of dirt.

(Now, if Yaz is scared of something, that’s a different story).

Since Ben’s, uh… departure, they’ve been sorely lacking that energy in the group. Kenji would wager he’s not the only one who misses it. He used to have so much fun riling Ben up with just a couple words (none of the others are so easily baited). And whenever Ben would freak out and instantly cling to him, like some kind of scrawny spider monkey, it made Kenji feel… capable, in a way.

Like, if Ben was trusting Kenji to protect him, maybe he wasn’t so useless after all (which was becoming an all too frequent feeling as the others continued to adapt and grow, leaving Kenji struggling to keep up).

Problem is, Ben’s really hard to scare now.

It’s not always obvious, like when he’s bragging about taking down Toro or itching to blow things up. Sometimes it’s the little things. Whenever they’re out in a group, foraging or gathering supplies, and there’s a sound in the distance that makes them all freeze, Ben’s frozen in readiness, not fear. He looks more like Yaz, tense and waiting with his fists up and eyes narrowed.

Sometimes, when they aren’t occupied by any particular task or imminent threat, and have the chance to enjoy some downtime, Ben drifts off to the side and just… watches, all tense, silent, and anxious. He’ll watch the tree line, or Bumpy on the ground below, or even just the rest of them as they go about their business. Kenji is sure he’s not the only one who’s noticed but none of them bring it up.

It’s… unsettling, seeing Ben like this. Kenji figured he just needed a couple weeks to fall back into the rhythm of the group, to see that he didn’t have to be this loner Rambo type of guy anymore. But even though he talks with them easy enough, seems to enjoy their company, and has a good handle on teamwork, it’s like there’s a part of him that can’t fully shake that mentality.

At least, not without help.

~*~

Kenji’s plan is- in his humble opinion- pretty dang brilliant.

He waits for a time when it’s just him and Ben in the main level of the clubhouse (Yaz is running laps around their perimeter, Darius is in his bunk writing in his nerd book, Brooklynn and Sammy are upstairs going over inventory) and then announces he’s going for a shower. His daily showers are common knowledge at this point, so Ben just nods in acknowledgement and goes back to leaning against the railing, watching Bumpy graze down below in that tense-silent-anxious way of his.

Kenji sets up the shower and lets it run (he’ll go down to the river later and get more water to make up for the waste, because even though he tries to avoid manual labor whenever possible, it’s totally worth it in this case). And then, being more careful and silent than he’s ever been (except maybe in cases where he’s being hunted by dinos), he slowly creeps up behind Ben before leaping forward with a shriek, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Ben doesn’t just jump and scream. He jumps, screams, then spins around and swings a fist into Kenji’s jaw in one smooth motion.

Kenji’s laughing even as he staggers back, his jaw stinging (because at the end of the day, even though Ben’s kind of a badass now, he’s still Ben and his arms are pretty much chicken wings so there’s no real harm done, just a bruise at most). Plus that’s a valid reaction, considering everything, and he can’t say he didn’t deserve it.

“Oh man, I totally got you!” Kenji says anyways, to rub it in. “You should see your… face...”

And Kenji trails off because now he’s seeing Ben’s face.

What Kenji expected is this:

Once Ben realized it was just him pulling a prank, he would get mad. In that totally non-threatening dorky Ben way, where he scrunches his nose and puffs out his cheeks, his little fists clenched at his side like an irate toddler. Maybe he’d stomp off but it’d be worth it because being mad is better than being tense-silent-anxious and it’d give him the chance to be annoyed with Kenji. And maybe Ben being annoyed with Kenji would help everything feel a little more normal, a little more like before.

What Kenji gets is this:

Once Ben realizes it was just him pulling a prank, he doesn’t get mad. He starts shaking. Violently, uncontrollably. Like he’s suddenly come down with hypothermia despite being in a tropical jungle, staring at Kenji all the while and not saying a word. His chest rises and falls rapidly in little panicky breaths and the kind of fear in his eyes isn’t the kind that’s funny. It’s glassy-eyed with shrunken pupils that dart around Kenji’s face, frightened and searching, as if he isn’t fully seeing it.

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

Kenji hasn’t heard Ben’s voice sound that small since before, and it doesn’t feel like a victory.

By now, of course, the others have noticed the commotion and it doesn’t take more than a second for them to piece together what happened. Yaz rounds on Kenji with a furious snarl and whisper-screams a lecture about how stupid and irresponsible he is. Darius is immediately trying to mediate the situation while Sammy frantically asks Ben if he’s okay, to which he doesn’t respond. Brooklynn steps in, citing an unboxing video about dealing with shock, and when she goes to put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, he lets her.

And now Kenji realizes where he miscalculated. Ben never showed discomfort with physical contact before because he’d never been surprised by it before (because Ben has gotten scary good at being alert, always keeping an eye and an ear out on his surroundings even in the middle of a conversation). And when it came to his friends, it wasn’t unexpected for Sammy to rush in with a hug or Darius to pat his shoulder or Brooklynn to playfully knock elbows.

But Kenji snuck up on him, so Ben’s first thought wasn’t that it was a friend. It was that he was going to have to run for his life, like he has countless times since being stranded on this island.

Kenji apologizes over and over again as Darius gently leads him away by the elbow and Brooklynn talks to Ben in low tones while Sammy squeezes his hand and Yaz takes up a lookout position because they can’t afford for all of them to be distracted even though she occasionally cuts a glare at Kenji out of the corner of her eye so it’s really debatable how vigilant she’s actually being.

Throughout it all, Ben doesn’t get mad, but he doesn’t stop shaking.

~*~

Darius explains it, later.

“The sudden fear reaction signaled a bunch of adrenaline to be released into his bloodstream, to give him the energy needed for running. And then, when he didn’t, there was nowhere for that energy to go. It’s like, even though his mind knew there wasn’t any danger, his body wasn’t convinced.” Then, a sympathetic look. “You didn’t know, man.”

Kenji only nods. But knowing doesn’t make it better because even though Ben’s stopped shaking he doesn’t turn his back on Kenji anymore and somehow that’s a million times worse than if he’d gotten mad.

~*~

There are claws wrapped around Ben’s shoulders and shrieks in his ears.

Wind whips his face and his stomach lurches as he’s carried through the air, weightless, at the mercy of the Pteranodon. He’s never felt so small and utterly helpless before, not once in his life. Even his screams aren’t big enough to carry, snatched away by the wind and deafened by the roars of the terror-birds fighting over the right to tear him limb from limb.

And then he’s falling and has other things to worry about.

~*~

Ben stops sharing Kenji’s bunk.

~*~

In a rare moment of downtime, Yasmina is curled up with Darius’s field guide, adding a few more illustrations, when she feels Ben staring at her.

It’s not the first time she’s felt him staring at her. It is the first time, however, that she decides to stare back.

She means it to be playful, at first. She meets his eyes, one brow quirked as if to say, ‘What, is there something on my face?’ But instead of glancing away in sheepish embarrassment or jolting out of a daze, Ben just stares back. There’s no emotion in his expression at all except intense focus.

The faint smile drops from Yasmina’s face as she stares back in surprise. Then, with ever-growing confusion and a fair amount of alarm, she realizes that Ben’s shoulders are rising, tense and hunched like he’s trying to make himself look bigger.

Like an animal.

Yasmina knows what it is to stare down a wild animal. She’s felt predatory eyes on her before and either bolted or turned to face the challenge. And that’s what it is, for some of the dinos- a challenge. Sometimes they’re testing your mettle, and standing your ground is enough to make them back off.

Ben must’ve learned that, too. And for whatever reason, he’s slipping into that behavior now.

It’s a ridiculous thought. This is Ben, her friend. Her very scrawny friend who can’t weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet, and prefers a diet of berries and grubs. And yet, here he is, staring her down like she’s a particularly bold pack of Compies that’s decided to threaten him.

Yasmina gives a slow, deliberate blink. “Ben?” she calls. “What’s up?”

Just like that, the spell is broken. Ben gives a violent start, blinking and shaking his head. Yasmina sees confusion flash across his face, and then realization. And now the embarrassment comes, but it’s darkened by something like horror.

Without a word, Ben turns and darts away, scrambling down the ladder to the alcove underneath the house where Bumpy’s napping.

Yasmina lets him go, too baffled and unsettled to form words.

~*~

Eventually, Yasmina tells Darius about it.

His expression is troubled as she runs through the incident. But in the end, there’s nothing more he can tell her than what she’s already worked out on her own. It’s just another side effect of the mindset Ben has adopted throughout his isolation. Those habits were what he relied on to survive, and it’ll take time for him to realize he doesn’t have to constantly be on edge now that he’s got a team to look out for him.

Though privately, Yasmina wonders if maybe the rest of them should take a page out of Ben’s book. Seems like he’s got a better handle on survival than they do.

(And then she thinks how Sammy would react, if Yasmina started acting like a wary animal around her, and she realizes Ben’s methods come with a price.)

~*~

After Ben runs the Compies off for the first time, staring becomes a defense tactic.

It’s not always the Compies, who are slowly but surely learning not to mess with him. Sometimes it’s the Parasaurolophus in the river, or the lone Pteranodon perched in a tree, or the group of Edmontosauruses grazing on the hilltop. As soon as he feels their eyes on him, he knows his best chance is to stare back, to show that he’s willing to put up a fight, that chasing him wouldn’t be worth it.

Obviously, there are some dinosaurs that doesn’t work on. But if Ben can drastically cut down the amount of time spent running for his life by standing his ground, then he’ll take it.

All he has to do is not back down.

~*~

Ben avoids Yasmina for the next few days.

~*~

Brooklynn wakes up in the middle of the night with an unshakeable feeling that something is wrong.

Her bad feeling is confirmed when she gets a look at the moon. Based on its position in the sky, she should’ve been woken up by Ben to take her night watch shift at least an hour ago. This practice, established by Darius months ago who insisted they should always have at least one person awake, has already become routine within the group. Brooklynn couldn’t sleep fully through the night if she tried.

Ben’s only just recently become a part of the routine. Immediately after his return, Darius thought it best just to let Ben settle in and get as much rest as he could, now that he had the security to do so, and everyone agreed. Ben had insisted he didn’t mind, but Darius stood firm, so it’s only been within the last few days that Ben took part.

But this is the first time he hasn’t woken Brooklynn up and her heart is in her throat as she rushes to the lookout point-

Only to find Ben sitting right where he’s supposed to be, looking out over their compound as a small candle burns next to him.

As soon as Brooklynn’s relief passes, it’s replaced with anger. “What are you doing?” she whispers furiously.

Ben, not at all surprised by her presence, gives her a sidelong look. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You were supposed to wake me up, so I could do night watch.” Brooklynn struggles to keep her voice low, so as not to alert the others. “What gives?”

Ben shrugs. “I knew I wasn’t gonna sleep tonight, so I figured I’d just take the whole watch myself.”

“That’s not how this works,” Brooklynn hisses, crossing her arms. “Even if you can’t fall asleep- and I’ve totally been there- you have to lay down and close your eyes and rest. You need to rest.”

Ben breaks into an easy smile, but Brooklynn can see the annoyed creases at his eyes. “Hey, it’s fine. I can-”

“Take care of yourself, I know,” Brooklynn interrupts, hating how frustrated she sounds but unable to help it. “But you don’t have to. We’re a team. We can take care of you too, alright?”

Ben stares at her for a moment. “I know that,” he says, sounding uncertain.

Brooklynn softens. When she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, he lets her. “Then… why?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admits. The muscles beneath Brooklynn’s hand are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. “I don’t know.”

They finish the night watch together.

~*~

Brooklynn almost hates to bring it up to Darius.

Dude’s stressing almost nonstop about everything, all the time. And it really isn’t fair for him to be responsible for the rest of them, including Ben. But Darius is the only one who seems to have the… what’s it called, emotional intelligence, she supposes, to weigh in on the situation.

(Sammy is a close second, but her brand of caring is a little more touchy-feely, and this doesn’t seem like the right time for that.)

Darius is immediately worried, pointing out that Ben might accidentally fall asleep on watch if he keeps this up (something Brooklynn hadn’t even thought about). He promises to talk to Ben about it, and that’s that.

Brooklynn is only slightly relieved because she knows if Darius had a real fix for the problem, he would’ve said so. And if Darius doesn’t have a fix for it, maybe there isn’t one.

~*~

Those first several nights, Ben doesn’t sleep at all.

And it’s not for lack of trying. But how can he sleep, when it’s pitch black and the jungle is full of unfamiliar sounds and he’s got no one but a baby Ankylosaurus by his side? He soon finds it’s even worse without Bumpy, though, because at least he trusted that Bumpy would wake up if there was any danger, as her senses are more powerful than his.

On his own, there’s no one to wake him up. So he has to stay up, and settle for catching short scattered naps throughout the day (if he can find a tree to hide up in).

It’s hard, but he’d rather be tired than dead.

~*~

Ben is taken off night watch, but still ends up awake more often than not.

~*~

Pyromaniac is a word no one ever expected to become synonymous with Ben, and yet here they are.

It’s one of the first things he always suggests as an answer to a problem; blow something up. Darius has a million reasons for them not to do that; they could get hurt, they could start a wildfire and burn the jungle down, they could attract unwanted attention from predators.

But that doesn’t stop Ben from cataloguing everything on the island that can be used as an explosive, memorizing their locations or creating hidden stashes. It doesn’t stop him from using the candles that came with the scavenged emergency kits. He’ll light them for no reason, just to watch the small flame flicker back and forth.

(Someday, months later, they’ll encounter a horrific hybrid dinosaur that is drawn to flames, and they’ll all think about how unsettling it is that Ben shares this trait, but none of them will say it.)

~*~

It’s been one week since Bumpy left, and Ben is starting a fire.

Just a small one. It rained all day and he’s soaked to the bone, which normally wouldn’t be a huge problem considering the jungle climate. But now that it’s nighttime, there’s a chill in the air and he can’t afford to get sick. It’s risky, because at night he knows the light could draw attention to him, but his teeth are starting to chatter so there’s no helping it.

When a Stegosaurus stumbles upon him, baying low and angry at finding another creature in its territory, it’s the fire that makes it balk. Rumbling displeasure, it retreats back into the dark jungle. Ben quickly adds torches to his arsenal, using the rest of his shirt as tinder.

Fire is safety.

~*~

Ben lights his candles in silence.

~*~

“You can’t just run off like that,” Kenji says, deadly serious.

Ben scoffs. “I think you’re forgetting who defeated Toro,” he says with an easy smile.

“You’re not invincible, Ben!” Kenji snaps. The anger churning inside him is deceptively hollow, like it’s masking something else. “And I can’t lose you again.”

Ben isn’t smiling anymore. “You won’t,” he mutters, pushing past Kenji. “I can take care of myself, now. I don’t need you to play the hero and protect me.”

Kenji wants to protest that’s not what this is about, and that’s never been what this is about, but Ben is already gone.

~*~

Ben still lives off berries and grubs.

~*~

“… and so I was thinking, berries have seeds in them, right? So if we plant some, we’ll have our own berry bushes at the clubhouse. It’ll cut down our foraging time in the mornings for sure, and-”

“Uh, who are you talking to, Ben?”

Ben blinks at Yasmina’s voice, the girl having only just entered the room.

“Um, Bumpy?” he says, as if this should be obvious.

Yasmina glances out at the compound, where Bumpy is fast asleep and well out of earshot.

“… right.”

~*~

Ben can’t sleep, even when he’s actually trying.

~*~

“Alright,” Darius says, “so we need to get the T-Rex out of Main Street so we can do another sweep for supplies. Any ideas?”

Ben’s hand goes up.

“For the hundredth time, Ben, we aren’t going to feed the T-Rex to the Mosasaurus.”

Ben’s hand goes down.

~*~

Ben feels more at home with Bumpy than the other campers.

~*~

“You know we didn’t mean to leave you, right? We would’ve come back for you if we’d known…”

~*~

Ben never talks about getting off the island.

~*~

“You have to tell us where you’re going, Ben, you can’t just disappear-”

~*~

Ben keeps slipping away.

~*~

“Blowing stuff up isn’t the answer to everything!”

~*~

Ben keeps saying he’s okay.

~*~

“We’re a team, we have to work together-”

~*~

Ben keeps smiling.

~*~

“Don’t you trust us to protect you?”

~*~

Ben doesn’t know.

~*~

Sammy finds Ben sitting on the roof of the clubhouse one day.

Her footsteps are loud and obvious as she approaches him. No chance of sneaking up. She knows he’s noticed her, from the subtle shift in his body. He doesn’t acknowledge her, though, continuing to stare off over the jungle and into the horizon, his skinny legs slotted through the railing and dangling over the edge.

The sun’s about to set, a few stars already twinkling in the purple edges of the sky. Sammy can remember another night, months ago, where Ben wasn’t here but everyone else was and they spotted bonfire smoke in the distance. She remembers the way her heart raced, the overwhelming joy and relief flooding through her. And yet, there had been undeniable heartache, because the realization that they’d made it out only meant it was more unfair that Ben hadn’t.

Sammy breaks the silence after a few moments.

“Are you okay?”

Ben doesn’t look at her, but she can see the easy smile that slants across his face, dying sunlight reflected in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Sammy sees the lie for what it is. None of them are okay. No one who’s been through what they have would be. But there’s a certain danger that comes with not being willing to admit it, and an even greater danger that comes with not being able to see it.

“Y’know, it’d be fine if you weren’t.”

Ben doesn’t answer.

Sammy sits with him until the sky turns dark.

~*~

It’s the way he struggles to eat anything he hasn’t obtained by himself.

It’s the way he sometimes goes off on his own without telling anyone.

It’s the way he talks to himself when he thinks no one else is around.

It’s the way he takes any concern for his safety as a personal attack.

It’s the way he leaps at the chance to blow something up.

It’s the way he can stare silently for hours.

It’s the way he smiles a little too easily.

~*~

It’s not jumping at every unexpected movement, or screaming awake from night terrors, or flinching away from the slightest touch. It’s not loud meltdowns or hysterical sobbing or uncontrollable fits of rage.

(Even though those will come, someday, when the island is just a memory.)

It’s the little things, that- once you notice them- keep piling up.

And suddenly, they don’t seem so little anymore.

~*~

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc #jwcc fanfic #my writing

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sineala · 4 years ago

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Hola Sine, hope you had a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year 🥳 💗 I am here seeking your knowledge on iron mam comics. I am aware that 616 Tony Stark is a recovering alcoholic and his alcoholism is an integeral part of his character. Irl most of the recovering alcoholics I know have a triggering point that leads them to relaps .. either stress or grief, some even health related to numb the pain. So I was thinking, is there a pattern for Tonys relapses? What usually triggers his addiction? Ofc not every addict has a trigger but I noticed many do. Thanks ☺️

This is kind of a difficult question to answer -- not factually, but in the sense that this is comics and therefore all the answers are going to look Really Really Weird because Marvel likes to show that an event is serious by getting Tony drunk for it, so they are generally not stressors that a person on our Earth is ever going to have. But here goes.

(I made a list of every time Tony drinks when Discord read Denny O’Neil’s run a couple years ago, so I am mostly pulling from that.)

Demon in a Bottle: Not technically a relapse, since he doesn’t get sober until the events of this arc, but there are two inciting events that really kick his drinking into overdrive: (1) Nick Fury is attempting to take over his company and force him to make weapons, and (2) Justin Hammer basically hacks Tony’s suit -- while Tony is wearing it -- and forces him to murder an ambassador in front of a very large crowd.

The second drinking arc: Two more inciting events. (1) Obadiah Stane is trying to take over Tony’s company, sending villains to attack him, et cetera, so Tony is already pretty close to the edge. And then (2) Stane hires a woman named Indries Moomji to date Tony and then dump him, while being incredibly cruel and insulting.

Vor/Tex: Tony is possessed by a cybernetic entity who decides to take his body for a joyride, which includes, among other things, getting drunk, and when Tony gets control of his body back he’s still drunk. And, yeah, sure, Tony did not make the decision to drink, but it affects him enough that he immediately heads to AA after.

Avengers Disassembled: Tony does not, technically, drink. But Wanda magics him into being drunk, more or less, against his will, and he loses his job as the Secretary of Defense while drunkenly threatening the UN representative from Latveria. Basically no one believes him when he says he didn’t drink. Except Steve. Steve believes him.

Fear Itself: Tony does make the conscious choice to drink in this one -- but it’s because the Earth is being invaded, and he needs access to a forge to make weapons, and he needs Odin to notice him so he can bargain with him for use of his forge, so he offers Odin his sobriety. And it works.

Superior Iron Man: Tony is evil now and he does all of the things he would apparently secretly want to do but does not let himself do, and that includes drinking. Also making weapons. Also bisexual orgies.

Secret Empire: Tony is an artificial intelligence now, and Steve is a fascist dictator, and the way Tony decides to cope with this is to be very, very drunk. Don’t ask me how an AI gets drunk. But he does.

Tony Stark: Iron Man: Tony is trapped in a VR simulation and he starts drinking because... uh... because it’s not real and he thought it sounded like fun because his evil AI is influencing his mind and making him think everything is fine and like old times and like it will definitely be okay if he drinks? I think so. I think I have repressed my memory of most of this run. To the best of my recollection, he doesn’t drink in Real Life during this but he lets everyone think he’s drinking so they won’t suspect he’s running the robot revolution.

So as you can see, there have been a lot of... extenuating circumstances, but a lot of stress seems to be the most reliable way to trigger him. (Not grief, as far as I can tell; he very famously did not drink when Steve was dead. He was extremely messed-up, though. I guess arguably his feelings during Secret Empire could include grief, though.)

Hope that helps!

#Anonymous #replies

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

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And just thought of!! What if 13 and river bump into her previous self melody....and melody is hitting on 13. (Are her parents there as well)

Right, this got a little bit out of control, it turned out much longer than expected but I had a brilliant time writing this, I really hope you like it!!

Word Count: 2800

Genre: Comedy

Rating: G (but some swearing and innuendo lol)

AO3

Girls Night

“River we can’t do this…“ The Doctor protested as her wife was working the TARDIS’s controls.

“Why not? You said you missed them and so do I.“ River retorted setting coordinates.

“It’s too complicated, you know I can’t get to Manhattan anymore and…“ The Doctor tried to reason with her but to no avail.

“Who’s talking about Manhattan? We just pop in during one of your many absences, months at a time to pick from, we’ll be fine…“ River set the TARDIS going.

“But the time stream, it would be their past, it could get very complicated if…“ The Doctor argued.

“Hush, I do it all the time. We just don’t tell them it’s you, no biggie.“ River shrugged and grinned at her when the TARDIS landed.

“River, I really don’t think…“ The Doctor started again but her wife wouldn’t hear of it. She went to grab her hand and pulled her to the door.

“Come along!“

They stepped outside and found themselves in the backyard of the Pond’s family home. It looked exactly as it had on so many of the Doctor’s previous trips here and she felt a wave of nostalgia gripping her. Maybe River was right, maybe it would be just fine. There were plenty of gaps in her travels with the Ponds, no reason why they couldn’t pop in if they were being careful about what they revealed. They just had to get their stories straight.

“River, what are we going to tell…“ The Doctor held her back. They couldn't just barge in unannounced, she hadn’t even bothered to check yet where in the Ponds’ timeline they were.

“River?“ Amy’s voice came across the yard. She must have heard the TARDIS landing to have come out to check.

“Amy!“ River waved at her mother and pulled the Doctor along.

“What are you…“ Amy eyed the TARDIS behind them curiously.

“Oh, just wanted to pop in for a visit.“ River grinned.

“Where’s the Doctor?“ Amy frowned a little confused.

“Busy. I borrowed the TARDIS, don’t worry, I’ll pop it right back, he’ll never know.“ River explained it away with a chuckle and a wave of her hand. Amy accepted the explanation, it wasn’t like it was the first time.

“And who’s this?“ Amy looked to the Doctor, surprised her daughter had brought company. The Doctor stared back at her in shocked. It had been so long since she had last seen her. She wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug but she knew she shouldn’t. The lack of recognition in her eyes hurt more than she wanted to admit. It was like she was looking right through her.

“Spoilers.“ River answered.

“Spoilers?“ Amy repeated rolling her eyes. “Does spoilers have a name?“

“I brought wine.“ River changed the subject quickly and pulled two bottles of wine from her coat pocket. Dimensional engineering.

“When did you get those?“ The Doctor couldn’t help but ask but she knew she probably wouldn’t get an answer. Her wife had her ways…

“Well, that’s good, we are having girls night so that is perfect. It’s the Strictly finale.“ Amy grinned and took the wine off her as she ushered them inside. They followed her into the lounge and froze in the doorway when they realised there was someone else lounging on the sofa already.

“Who’s this Amy?“ Mels raised her eyebrows, eying the two of them curiously.

“This is River and her friend who hasn’t got a name.“ Amy explained gesturing to both of them in turn.

“Friend or Girlfriend?“ Mels asked with a flirty grin as she looked the Doctor up and down who blushed.

“This is going to get very complicated.“ She mumbled to River who nodded slowly.

“Amy, I just need to talk to my wi… friend a minute, we’ll be right back.“ River announced to Amy who looked back at her confused but before she could protest, River was already dragging the Doctor down the hallway.

“Right, I’ll open the wine.“ Amy called after them. “No making out in my bedroom!“ She gave a shrug to Mels and then went to busy herself in the kitchen.

“Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.“ River admitted, closing the bedroom door behind them.

“You think?!“ The Doctor exclaimed.

“That’s me…“ River gestured back towards the door.

“Yes, before Amy knows that! Her memories will blur, she’s not the problem but if Amy realises, that could be bad!“ The Doctor groaned in frustration. This was exactly the sort of thing she had been trying to avoid.

“Should we tell her who you are and just make her promise not to tell you?“ River suggested, trying to think of a way to make this easier for them.

“We should just go.“ The Doctor shook her head. “Because if you realise who I am, you’re going to try and kill me! This is you before we met!“ She had to remind her. “We should just get out of here, make you apologies to your mother and let’s go.“

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I really thought this would be fun…“ River ran her hand through her hair.

“Doctor? Well, I’ll say, this is going to be fun.“ They jumped when the door opened to reveal Mels.

“Mels…“ The Doctor said carefully taking a step towards her. She held her hands out, almost as if approaching a wild animal.

“How do you know me?“ Mels raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“How much of that did you hear?“ River asked the question she knew was on the tip of the Doctor’s tongue.

“Enough.“ Mels retorted with a wicked grin. “Love the hair, by the way, my, I look great, don’t I.“ She looked her future self up and down making clear she knew exactly what was going on here. “And you’re the Doctor? Certainly not who Amy described but I’ll take it.“ She turned her attention to the Doctor.

“It’s a tiny bit complicated timeline wise…“ The Doctor winced. At least Mels would forget about all this. They just needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible and preferable in one piece.

“I’m sure it’ll all straighten out just fine.“ Mels grinned and grabbed a letter opener from Amy’s desk.

“Okay, none of that.“ The Doctor was quick to sonic and disarm her as she had done in Berlin. “You will forget about this anyway and the timeline will stay intact.“

“OI! What are you all doing down there? I’m not drinking all this wine to myself.“ Amy’s voice called down the hall, interrupting the tense stand off.

“Amy can’t know, we’re in her future, you will be damaging your own timeline if you tell her.“ River gave Mels a stern warning. “I am you and I know that for a fact!“

Mels rolled her eyes at her but couldn’t respond as Amy stuck her head it.

“Come on then!“

They obliged and followed her, none of them wanted to ruin the fun for her.

“Sit down.“ Amy pointed to the sofa and handed out wine glasses.

Mels patted the sofa next to her indicating for the doctor to sit but River was quick to pull her along and sit her down the opposite end. She put her arm around the Doctor protectively and Amy dropped onto the sofa between River and Mels, eying their silent exchange curiously. She felt like she was missing something.

“It’s starting.“ The telly drew her attention as the Strictly Come Dancing theme tune came on and Amy leaned forward in excitement. “You’ve got to drink for every 10 scored and down your glass if anyone scores a perfect 40!“ She explained the rules of the drinking game.

“We are so going to regret this…“ The Doctor eyed the glass in her hand suspiciously and had a sniff of the wine. She disliked alcohol at the best of times but when she was trying to keep a level head from getting herself killed by her wife’s past self, it seemed even less appealing. The TV show, however, was actually quite fun to watch and they all got into it.

After a while, the doorbell went.

“That’ll be the pizza.“ Amy exclaimed full of excitement.

“I’ll go.“ Mels offered as Amy appeared to be enjoying the show a lot more than the rest of them. She got to her feet and left the room. Amy, took advantage of her momentary absence and turned to River and the Doctor. Apparently, they were more interesting than the dancing show after all.

“Okay, okay, seriously now, joke’s over, who are you?“ She glared at the Doctor, trying to work her out. Something was going on, she knew it, River would hold on to just anyone like that, even when she was getting increasingly tipsy.

“I uh…“ The Doctor blushed and looked to River for help who just took a gulp of her wine.

“Oh look Amy, another 10!“ River pointed to the telly. “I’ll say, this drinking game is dangerous.“

“Here we go.“ Mels returned with the pizza forcing Amy to stop her interrogation. As far as Amy knew at this point, Mels had no knowledge of her travels with the Doctor - apart from what she had told her during her childhood - and who River even was. Mels passed Amy one of the boxes and opened the other, holding a piece out to the Doctor. “Try this one.“

“Yay pizza.“ The Doctor leaned forward in excitement but River was quick to take the box off Mels.

“Yeah, intercepting that…“ She popped the box behind herself onto a shelf. “Poisoned.“ She mouthed to the Doctor. She knew herself well enough. The Doctor’s face fell in disappointed.

“Hm.“ Mels pursed her lips and sat down again.

“Okay, here we go, perfect 40!“ Amy exclaimed taking a huge bite of her pizza, she hadn’t even noticed the exchange between the others.

“Stop drinking so much, we need to keep an eye on her.“ The Doctor whispered to River who was downing her glass alongside Amy.

“I need this to cope with the situation.“ River smirked to her and pulled her closer.

“Also makes you more handsy.“ The Doctor gave a little, undignified squeak when River gave her arse a squeeze.

“You don’t usually complain about that.“ River hummed in a sultry voice as she leaned closer.

“River, how’s that boyfriend of yours?“ Amy exclaimed elbowing her daughter. She knew her relationship with the Doctor was rather complicated but she was sure he would not be best pleased to witness this. So she got offended on his behalf.

“Oh you know, he’s about…“ River gave a dismissive wave.

“You have a boyfriend, River?“ Mels pipped up from the other side.

“Yeah, he’s a Doctor.“ River retorted hoping to make her see that she really should stop trying to kill her future wife.

“Isn’t she a Doctor, too? Do you have a type?“ Mels smirked pointing towards the Doctor who went very pale.

“You’re a doctor?“ Amy looked back to the Doctor who could already see the whole thing crashing down around them.

“Doctor of archeology, we met at uni!“ She exclaimed quickly.

“Oh right.“ Amy nodded, that made sense.

“You’re an archeologist?“ Mels looked to River thoroughly confused.

“Got a problem with that?“ River shot back.

“I don’t know, do I? Just wondering what went wrong in between.“ Mels shook her head to herself.

“More wine?“ Amy suggested feeling tensions rising. She had no idea what was going on but this was not how she had envisaged girls night to go. She jumped to her feet to get more wine from the kitchen.

When Amy came back, she found the lounge in disarray. The sofa had been knocked over. The pizza had gone everywhere. The telly was broken, sizzling in the corner and Mels and River were fighting on the floor.

“Stop it right now!“ The Doctor called, stumbling over her own feet a little as the alcohol was starting to effect her.

“Okay, what the HELL is going on here?!!“ Amy barked and River jumped to her feet, letting Mels up as well. “WELL??!“ Amy scolded her daughter.

“This might be a little bit complicated to explain.“ River grimaced.

“Try me.“ Amy put her hands on her hips. “This better not be a late toddler tantrum!“ She glared at her. “But what I really want to know is who youare.“ She turned and tabbed her finger at the Doctor who immediately went very pale.

“Come on Amy, you can stop pretending now.“ Mels huffed in annoyance.

“Pretending?“ Amy frowned.

“About the Doctor.“ Mels exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You used to tell me about him all the time, but you have mentioned he’s gonna turn into a pretty girl, you know I like blondes.“ She gestured to the Doctor.

“Oh my God, you actually are the Doctor?“ Amy looked back around, confirming the sneaking suspicion she had had for a while.

“Who else would wear braces like that…“ River shrugged, surprised it had taken her mother this long.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?“ Amy yelled at the Doctor who wanted to take cover behind the sofa but was too slow. She punched her arm. “You idiot!“

“Ouch! It wasn’t my idea to come here looking like this…“ The Doctor exclaimed rubbing her arm.

“Okay, yes, enough talking, can we just get to the point.“ Mels interrupted by pulling a large kitchen knife at the Doctor.

“Mels, what are you doing?“ Amy exclaimed staring at the knife in her hand.

“Doing what she’s been trained to do, try and kill the Doctor…“ River explained stepping protectively in front of her wife.

“Wait…“ Amy’s head was spinning.

“My own bespoke psychopath.“ The Doctor sighed. This was just too much, this was going terribly, terribly wrong.

“It’s just a phase, you’ll grow out of it.“ River couldn’t help but point out.

“I am not following.“ Amy shook her head.

“Come on mum, everyone has got there except you.“ Mels sighed.

“Hang on, you’re not…“ Amy’s head whipped back around to Mels.

“Penny in the air…“ Mels grinned.

“You’re Mels, my childhood friend.“ Amy exclaimed.

“Short for…“ River prompted.

“Melody.“ Amy answered. “Yeah, I named you after her.“ She looked from River to Mels and back again.

“You named your daughter after your daughter… I feel like we’ve done this before.“ The Doctor said half heartedly.

“Maybe have a drink so you don’t freak out… and so the timeline doesn’t change too much, we arrived a bit early…“ River pointed to the wine glass in her mother’s hand who promptly took a big gulp. This was evening was getting worse by the second.

“The timeline is about to change alright.“ Mels smirked dangerously and lunged forward with the knife. River met her half-way and grabbed her arm. She tripped her up and knocked her to the floor. The knife flung out of her hand and slid away as River twisted her arm onto her back.

“I’m lifetimes ahead of you, dear.“ She smirked as she held her down.

“So you are both from my very distant future, just popped in for a visit. Mels is actually River but young and my daughter but she’s trying to kill the Doctor because that’s what the Silence trained her to do.“ Amy started rambling. “But the Doctor is a hot blonde now, who, apparently, my verybisexual daughter is shagging, again, or rather still? But I’m not supposed to know any of that cause it’s all already happened for you and the timeline would be fucked if I found out so you were all pretending like nothing was going on and we got drunk because…“

“Aaaaand I think that’s enough of that.“ The Doctor pressed her fingertips to Amy’s face and she collapsed to the floor unconscious.

“Mind wipe? Probably for the best.“ River nodded.

“She’ll have one hell of a hangover anyway.“ The Doctor shrugged and lifted her up and onto the sofa even though it was still at an odd angle.

“And I suppose I’m just gonna forget about this, am I?“ Mels struggled against River’s grip.

“Yes, won’t remember a thing once we’re out of here. And don’t worry, you will never kill the Doctor, you’ll get close but you will save him because you’ll fall in love with him, so you have that to look forward to.“ River huffed as she let go of her.

“Well, I have that to look forward to.“ Mels couldn’t help but smirk as she looked the Doctor up and down with very blatant admiration.

“When you’re a bit older.“ River was quick to retort. “I’m taking her home tonight.“ She gave the Doctor her best cheshire cat smile, making her blush deeply.

“Time to get back to the TARDIS…“ The Doctor said, trying not to sound too eager.

#river x thirteen #thirteen/river #space wives #doctor who #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #Mels #melody pond #amy pond #fanfiction #humour #comedy #fluff #femslash #yowzah #the ponds

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iatethepomegranate · 4 years ago

Text

Just a fic about Caleb buying a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, and coping with that kind of change and newfound stability (and becoming Professor Widogast). Angst and fluff are at war in this fic.

Content warnings: Panic attacks, Caleb's backstory

Chapter Summary: Yasha, Essek and Caduceus hit the garden. Caleb's meeting with Professor Alphira takes an unexpected turn, leaving him floundering. But the Nein come for him when he needs them, and they help him find his feet. Then they go shopping.

Notes: Chapter title is from "Venus" by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 3: I was a billion little pieces til you pulled me into focus

Yasha got her garden started the next morning, with Essek and Caduceus helping her. Caleb watched them for some time, enjoying the quiet start to the day, before he headed deeper into the centre of the city to meet Alphira.

Caleb had known this coffee shop when it was a smutty bookshop he used to frequent with Astrid and Wulf during their explorations of the city. Alphira was seated by the front window, and waved to him through the glass. Caleb checked his surroundings, not bothering to be subtle about it, and stepped inside. A lute player sat in the corner, playing soft music.

“I have a confession, Mr Widogast,” Alphira said as Caleb pulled out a chair to sit.

He froze, leaning on the back of it. “...ja?”

“Do you remember Professor Bettina Weber?”

“Professor of Transmutation. I remember her.” Caleb had gotten along with her perfectly fine when he was a student, but he had been set on Evocation at the time. And then Trent had gotten his hands on him and ruined any chance of having a good relationship with any teacher at the Academy. “Why do you ask?”

“I mentioned your old name to her,” said Alphira. “She asked to come along. Is that all right?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, watching Alphira hide her fidgeting hands beneath the table. “You are not a good liar, Professor.”

Alphira sighed. “I apologise. I should have been upfront. We intended to speak with you together, but we were not sure how you would…” She waved her hands around, evidently unable to conjure the remainder of the sentence. “Archmage Beck knows we are meeting, if that helps.”

“This is not the best start to our friendship, Professor.” Caleb forcibly relaxed his shoulders and slid very carefully onto his chair. “Do what you will.”

Alphira pulled a coil of copper wire from the component pouch on her belt and whispered into it. “Bettina, you can come in. He’s not happy, but he hasn’t walked out.”

A few moments passed, and then an older human woman, greyer than Caleb remembered, stepped through the doorway, setting off the bell. She sat in the third seat at the table.

“Guten morgen, Professor,” Caleb said, not bothering to hide the steel in his tone. He did not need to cower before anyone in this city anymore, save perhaps for King Dwendal. He was done tolerating the convoluted bullshit of the Assembly. Today, at least.

“Guten morgen, Bren.” Bettina at least had the grace to look sheepish. “I apologise we were not upfront with you. Ah, I did not check which name you prefer. Bren or Caleb?”

“I don’t mind.” Caleb did mind. More than he usually did. He couldn’t tell whether Bettina’s slip had been intentional or not, and that irritated him.

“Caleb, then.”

Caleb felt a strange wash of relief, not unlike how he had felt when Yudala Fon had come to the same conclusion.

Alphira flagged down a server and each of them ordered a cup of black coffee. “My treat,” she said.

“Danke,” Caleb replied. They sat quietly at a moment, looking at each other, and Caleb’s irritation swelled. “Forgive my impatience, Professors. Why did you ask me here?”

“Soltryce Academy needs a new Professor of Transmutation,” said Alphira. “Bettina intends to retire in a few years.”

“I am not a qualified teacher,” Caleb said. “I have no experience.” Well that was not entirely true; he did have experience teaching individuals. And he had helped Veth with the first iteration of her adventurers’ summer camp. “Well, no experience that a teaching institution would consider of benefit.”

“Archmage Beck put your name forward,” said Bettina. “The other Archmages were quick to agree with her. The Martinet himself wants you on the staff.”

“The Martinet wants a lot of things,” Caleb said flatly. This was too good to be true. It had to be. He could not afford to get his hopes up about this, even as one of his oldest dreams was presented to him on a silver platter.

The coffees arrived. Caleb wrapped his hands around his mug, letting the warmth chase the morning chill from his fingers. Bettina slowly stirred sugar into her coffee, chuckling softly.

“I know he offered you Astrid’s job,” she said. “Not many people say no to him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.” She looked up from her coffee, smiling at him fondly in a way that sent Caleb into a state of utter confusion and mild panic. “Of the three of you, I would not have expected you to be the one to confound him like that. Well done.”

“I’m not here to fuck around,” Caleb responded, not wholly by design.

“Good. We need more people like you in the Academy.” She was working hard to disarm him, and Caleb was doing all he could to hold on tight to his distrust.

“We don’t want something like Trent Ikithon happening again,” Alphira said. “Archmage Beck is of the mind that you are well-placed to prevent that. Bettina and I are inclined to agree.”

That was a major reason why Caleb had chosen to remain in Rexxentrum, but it did rankle him that it was expected of him, after everything he had already been through. He did not like the bitterness that rose in him. Alphira and Bettina were offering him the power to keep children like him safe like he desperately wanted. And it was unfair to assume they would throw him to the sharks and leave him there.

Caleb took a deep breath and asked, “And where do you two fit in?”

“I have decades of teaching experience,” said Bettina. “My knowledge is at your disposal. I seem to recall you once told me you wanted to teach… when you were fifteen, I think. You were still new to the Academy at the time.” Before Trent got involved went unspoken.

“Did you know what Trent was doing?” Caleb asked. He had to know. He needed more information before Bettina’s persistent kindness wore down his defences and either made him meek or cruel. And if he sensed even the slightest inkling that she had known anything and didn’t lift a finger to help, he would walk out in a heartbeat. There were enough people associated with the Assembly who clearly had some idea and did nothing. He did not need to drink coffee with one of them.

“No,” Bettina replied. “I understand why you needed to ask, and I admit Ikithon always made me uncomfortable, but I genuinely had no idea he was abusing his students.” Her gaze bore into Caleb’s, mouth downturned and eyes sad. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have helped you.”

Caleb had to break eye contact, before he broke instead. He sipped his coffee, with shaky hands, and composed himself.

“We were at his trial,” said Alphira matter-of-factly. Caleb could not express how grateful he was that she kept emotion out of this. “Most of the professors attended. We were shocked, but not exactly surprised. He was always a creepy bastard.”

“We believe Alphira came close to being recruited,” said Bettina, quiet but far less intense than she had been a moment ago. “She’s a talented Evocation wizard. Trent had a few meetings with her parents, but she has a large, close-knit family spread across the Empire.”

“He realised you had too many connections,” Caleb said, and found his voice was steady. “He couldn’t isolate you. Too much time and effort, and he had many other… projects..”

“I believe you are correct,” said Alphira. “I came to the academy just after you had, uh, left. There were rumours about what happened to you, but nobody really knew for sure.”

“I take it the trial cleared that up for you.”

“Ja.” Alphira sighed. “Look. I am sorry I did not handle this meeting better. This is my fault. I wasn’t sure you would come if you knew one of your old teachers would be here. It was wrong of me to take that choice from you.”

Caleb hadn’t survived this long without learning how to get a read on people, and he felt confident he was reading her correctly. She seemed genuinely remorseful. “I will consider the offer.”

“Good,” said Bettina. “Of all my possible replacements, I am most confident you will do the right thing by the students.”

She was laying it on pretty thick, but it emboldened Caleb to speak a few things he had been toying with, in the event he did have an opportunity like this.

“If I were to accept the position, I have a few demands,” said Caleb. “I want the Academy to set up a proper system to report abuse. We also need the staff to be trained how not to abuse their fucking students, as that seems rather difficult for some of them. We need mental health support, and a better system for older or returning students to get an education. Most of all, every student who walks through those doors must be taught the ethics of magic and research, and understand their responsibilities to use their magical and social power responsibly. Most of the staff also need that lesson.”

“We want those things, too,” said Alphira. “We’ll pass them on to Archmage Beck and see what we can do. Unfortunately, we may have to push for some of those for an extended period of time.”

“We will work the ethics lessons into our transmutation classes,” said Bettina. “At this stage, I would suggest ethics remain integrated into pre-existing magic classes so students cannot avoid it. At least until we have established a culture of understanding around these things.”

“Can I count on your help?” Caleb asked. “Both of you?”

“We will help you,” said Alphira. “I would not drag you into this without offering assistance.”

“Danke,” Caleb replied, softer than he had intended. The fact she had thought it a foregone conclusion that he would have their help in this…

Trust was not easy for Caleb. And the trust he had extended had been broken many, many times. This was a lot.

Caleb finished his coffee and bid Bettina and Alphira farewell. And then he ducked behind the coffee shop, leaned against the wall, braced his hands on his knees, and tried very hard not to hyperventilate.

It was not going well. His hands shook as he fumbled for his copper wire, muscle memory kicking in to settle his fingers as he cast Sending. He decided the recipient at the last second. It had to be someone with some knowledge of the city, but most of his friends didn’t know the city that well. But there was one person who walked past here on her way to work.

“Beauregard. It’s Caleb.” He was out of breath, on the verge of hysterics one way or another. “Behind coffee shop. Come get me? Can’t breathe. Brain bullshit. I need you. Please.”

Beauregard’s voice filtered into his mind immediately. “Caleb? Ah, fuck. We’re coming. Hang in there. Don’t move. I’m bringing… lots of us. I don’t know. You’re okay.” She was panting now. “We’re running. Be there soon.”

Twenty-five words exactly. Nice. It distracted Caleb for about half a second, before he couldn’t breathe again.

Maybe if Caleb knew exactly what had sent him into a spiral, he could have handled it on his own. But he genuinely wasn’t sure, and his brain wasn’t working in any helpful way. It could have been any number of things, or maybe all of them at once. All he could do was bend over and try very hard to breathe. It was going poorly.

So on top of everything, he was frustrated, which did not help in the slightest.

Time was liquid. He was aware of its passing, and he could still count the seconds, minutes. He always counted things. It was one of the few things he could do when his brain felt like a handful of broken glass. And even if he lost count of everything else, he could still count time.

He knew it had been five minutes. He wasn’t sure if it felt longer or shorter than that, despite his knowledge of objective reality. His breaths were a little steadier, but not by much. He was still on his feet, but barely.

He felt dizzy.

“Hey, dude.” Beauregard’s face slid between the ground and Caleb’s gaze. “We’re here.”

Caleb’s arm felt like the bones had fallen out, but somehow he managed to grab her shoulder and squeeze. Beauregard put her hand over his, squeezing back. She gently pushed him upright until he rested his head against the brick behind him. He lifted his face to the sky, breathing deeply. It was already easier, knowing she was here.

“Caleb,” came Veth’s voice, hesitant. A small hand laced their fingers together. “What is it? What happened?”

Caleb’s voice game out even huskier than usual. “Not sure.”

“It just happened?”

Caleb nodded.

Veth squeezed his hand. “Can you walk? We’ll get you home.”

“Caduceus is making tea,” came Jester’s voice. “And we’ll give you lots of hugs if you want them.”

“Let’s hold off on that, all right?” said Fjord. “Let him breathe for a bit.”

Caleb dragged his eyes from the sky to take in who exactly had come. Beauregard, Veth, Jester, Fjord, Yasha. Everyone except Caduceus, who had remained behind to make tea, and Essek, who had to make a calculated risk every time he left the house. Caleb was glad he hadn’t come. He would have felt much worse if Essek had put himself in danger over this.

Yasha stepped forward, offering her arm. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

Caleb pushed off the wall, his legs far too wobbly, and leaned on Yasha. They walked home. Fjord took Caleb’s other side, with Jester bouncing ahead as an obvious distraction. Veth and Beauregard stayed closer, just in front of him. Caleb remembered the Nein surrounding him in Castle Ungebroch, trying to shield him from Trent. Remembering that did not help him calm down in the slightest.

He pressed his face against Yasha’s shoulder, trusting her to guide him, until he could compose himself. He loved them. A whole lot. And they showed him every day how much they loved him.

Fjord took his other hand. “You’re all right, Caleb. We got you.”

****

As soon as they were home, Jester made Caleb a blanket nest on the floor and shoved him in it. Then came Caduceus with chamomile tea. Essek emerged from the kitchen behind him, feet firmly on the floor, and sat on the couch behind Caleb, quietly brushing and braiding his hair.

The rest of the Nein sat on the floor around him. Veth wiggled into the blanket nest with him.

“That was one intense cup of coffee,” said Fjord. “How are you feeling?”

Caleb took a tentative sip of the tea; it wasn’t too hot. He took another sip. “Better.”

“What happened in there?’ asked Beau. “Do I have to murder Alphira?”

“Nein.” Caleb worked through half the tea quicker than Caduceus had probably intended for him. “She surprised me. I did not take it well.”

“Surprised you how?” asked Jester. “Was it a good surprise?”

Caleb shrugged. “Probably. She… misjudged. Invited my old Transmutation professor without telling me, until I was already there. Put me on the back foot. I should have handled it better. Thought I did, until after the meeting. Forgot how to breathe. My old professor was… she didn’t know what Trent was doing, and she seemed upset that she couldn’t help us. That was… a lot. I don’t know if that’s the reason I lost it… but I’m sure it didn’t help.” He closed his eyes and Essek gently tugged on the hair at his temples; he liked the feeling. “Beauregard, did you know Soltryce Academy wanted to hire me?”

“WHAT!?” shrieked Jester; Caleb flinched involuntarily. “Sorry, Caleb.”

“Astrid told me she Archmages were really fucking keen on you, yeah,” said Beauregard. “Did they send Alphira to do it?”

“And my old Transmutation professor, ja.”

“Do you like your old professor?”

“She never did anything horrible to me.”

“That’s really not an answer.”

Caleb shrugged. “I didn’t have time to establish a relationship. I wanted to be an Evocation wizard, and then Trent ruined my life.”

“We can still go kill him if you want,” Yasha said, with complete sincerity.

Beauregard swore under her breath. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I should’ve told you.”

“This is not your fault.”

“No, but maybe you would’ve… I don’t know. I feel bad.”

Caleb sighed. Opened his eyes. Stared hard at her until she looked at him. “Beauregard. Shit like this happens sometimes, even when everything is fine. We all know who is responsible. Please be angry at the right people. I trust you. You know how much that means.”

Essek’s fingernails grazed the back of his neck as he pulled Caleb’s hair into a ponytail, and Caleb had to stifle a moan. Even if it wasn’t a sexual moan (this time), the Nein would have too much fun with it. Or maybe he should have let it happen, just to make Beauregard laugh at him. Too late now.

“Oh, Caleb!” said Jester. “Is that your orgasm face?”

“No,” Essek said, with far more certainty than he had likely intended. If he had intended to speak at all.

Beauregard clapped both hands on her mouth to stifle a bark of laughter.

Jester grinned, and Caleb knew she was doing this very much on purpose to lighten the mood. “Oh, I bet you know what his orgasm face looks like, Essek!”

Caleb could almost hear Essek’s eye-roll. Essek calmly tucked Caleb’s two side braids into the ponytail, running his fingers through the ponytail itself to loosen any remaining tangles.

“I appreciate your keen interest in this area, Jester,” Essek said primly. “I am afraid I am not the type to--oh, what is the phrase in common?--kiss and tell.” He paused, but there was something the way he held his breath that indicated he was not nearly finished. “If you wish to find out for yourself, I would recommend you ask him nicely. If Fjord does not mind, of course. Or perhaps you could invite him along. I believe Caleb has experience in that area.”

Caleb knew his face was redder than his hair, because every part of his flashed burning hot. He had never actually told Essek he had a crush on Jester, or that he thought Fjord was hot, and Caleb was pretty fucking certain Essek would not have gone there if he had known. Caleb may have offhandedly mentioned his experience with threesomes, though.

Luckily, the Nein were distracted by Essek making possibly the crassest joke he had made in his life, instead of Caleb blushing so hard his skin was about to start sizzling.

“Holy fuck, dude,” Beauregard breathed.

“Who are you and what have you done with our Essek?” said Veth, waving a crossbow bolt in the air. “Tell us quick: what is your favourite food?”

“Well, I can assure you it is not soup.”

“I knew it! Essek’s an imposter!”

“Caleb, what did you do to him?” said Beauregard. “I know you’ve got some serious game, but what the shit.”

Jester, in the meantime, had collapsed on the floor, cackling uncontrollably at the whole thing. Fjord’s face was in his hands, and the tips of his ears were red. Yasha was snickering quietly. Caduceus calmly poured Caleb more tea.

“What can I say?” Caleb said, pretending he wasn’t burning up from embarrassment. “I’m a wizard magnet.”

Beauregard groaned loudly. “We know, Caleb. We know you’ve fucked more than anyone in this group except me. I hate this. I hate that I know this about you.”

“That is very sad, Beauregard. I was a teenager the last time I was in a serious relationship.”

“Yeah, awkward pubescent Caleb had more game than most of this fully-grown group put together. You’re not helping.”

Jester recovered enough from her laughter to sit up, still snickering. “I bet you were really handsome, Caleb.”

“Of course he was!” Veth screeched. “He’s always handsome.”

“I was a good talker,” said Caleb. “That helped.” He had never shared how he, Astrid and Wulf had come together romantically, and it would definitely kill the mood to tell them it was because they were locked in a freezing cold tower and had to huddle together for warmth. He kept that to himself.

“You’re still a good talker when you want to be,” said Beauregard. “It’s annoying.”

“It’s very impressive,” Yasha added.

“You’re very charming, Cay,” said Veth. “Fjord could learn a thing or two.”

“Fjord does just fine on his own,” Caleb said, because she was starting to exaggerate again. Her faith in him was eternally lovely, but he didn’t like it when it ran the risk of putting others in the Nein down.

Essek kept running his fingers through Caleb’s ponytail and adjusting the braids. There was no practical purpose to it. They both just liked it.

The room settled after the chaos of Essek displaying once again his unique sense of humour: fucking with the Nein. Beauregard crashed the hardest, already looking miserable again.

Caleb threw a cushion at her. “Stop it. I called you for a reason. I am not upset with you.”

Beauregard pressed her hands over the entirety of her face and screamed into them. Caleb threw another cushion. And then he telekinetically pulled them back and threw them at her repeatedly with magic. Childish? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

It was satisfying to watch Beauregard get annoyed and use her monk shit to snatch flying cushions from the air.

“Okay, fine! I don’t feel bad for you anymore!” And she launched herself at him, smacking him repeatedly with the cushions until he curled into a ball and begged for mercy.

****

Caleb was a little tired from his episode earlier, but not so tired that he would dare miss out on furniture shopping when Jester and Caduceus were so excited about it. He trusted them to balance each other out and come up with a good aesthetic after the outfits they had procured for the party in Nicodranas… where they ended up kidnapping a disguised Essek and forcing him to confess his sins. And Beauregard was high on True Sight. What a fucking night that had been.

Beauregard and Fjord headed out to the Cobalt Soul Archive to retrieve Kingsley from Nicodanas; he’d never been to the Rexxentrum markets before. It gave Caleb a few extra minutes to recover, though in truth he was as okay as he was going to be.

Now that he could think clearly again, he was able to dissect what had happened. The shock of seeing Professor Weber after so long, and with little warning, had rattled him from the beginning. And, of course, any talk of Trent ran the risk of triggering him, but then Bettina had expressed more remorse for not helping him than anyone else in the Assembly ever had the grace to do. Ludinus was notoriously full of shit, and Caleb had come to expect that from anyone even tangentially involved with the Assembly (except perhaps Pumat).

Caleb was not used to anyone in that place treating him with simple, unfiltered human compassion. Even Astrid and Wulf were a little detached from the pain they had suffered together, and what they had been through separately. He knew that detachment was a matter of survival for them, and he did not resent them for it.

Bettina’s raw grief for his suffering had affected him far more deeply than he could ever have anticipated.

Essek sat on the couch with Caleb’s head in his lap, playing with the baby hairs that had already escaped his ponytail, while the Nein prepared to head out. “You look tired,” he said softly.

“This morning was a lot. I’ll be all right.”

“Fine, but I am coming with you.”

“Essek.” Caleb had taken this tone with him many times in Aeor. It meant Essek, what the fuck? It had taken a lot for Caleb to say his name like that, given his own notorious lack of impulse control around magic items. Caleb had never gotten his hands on that fucking emerald. He was still bitter about it. But he was finding a new use for the tone, because Essek was normally a cautious person, except when he felt the people he loved needed him. Caleb especially.

“I am safer in a group than I would be here alone.” Essek smiled ruefully. “Besides, I have chosen a disguise already. You should not let my brilliance go to waste.”

“You make a solid argument.”

“I know.” Essek smirked. “You are, however, welcome to tell me how brilliant I am.”

Veth was on the floor nearby, slowly copying a few of Caleb’s first level spells into her own spellbook. “Is this how wizards flirt?”

“The part we do in front of other people, ja,” said Caleb.

Jester, lying on her stomach on the other side of the room, with her sketchbook, piped up. “What about the secret flirting that you don’t let us see?”

“We mostly discuss complex existential matters,” Essek replied.

“And dissect each other’s breakdowns,” Caleb muttered, not entirely meaning to voice it but not trying particularly hard to restrain himself. Well, it was out in the world now. May as well keep digging. “We have a lot of material.”

Yasha popped her head out of the kitchen. “That sounds very intense.”

“Yeah,” said Veth, “I just tell Yeza he has a nice ass and we get down to business.”

“Each to their own,” Essek said mildly, casting prestidigitation on Caleb’s hair to smooth it down after his fussing.

The door flew open, and Caleb sat bolt upright before Kingsley strutted inside in a way that was a little too close to Mollymauk for Caleb to handle in his current state. But he was used to it by now. It didn’t overtake him like it may have months ago.

“I can’t believe you almost went shopping without me,” Kingsley said, his tail swishing to slap Beauregard in the face. She batted it away from her.

“Ugh, we should’ve left you in the smutty book shop where we found you.”

“Find anything good?” asked Jester, taking the words right out of Caleb’s mouth.

Kingsley shrugged. “How the fuck would I know?”

“I would bring you to the one in Rexxentrum and show you,” said Caleb, “but they sadly turned it into a coffee shop.”

“Come on, Caleb,” said Jester. “This city is huge. There has to be another one. Ooh, you could ask Astrid next time you see her!”

Kingsley snickered at that.

“What’s so funny?”

“Astrid. Really.”

“Hey, Caleb’s really into smut,” said Jester. “He had to learn it from somewhere.”

“I am leaving this conversation,” said Caleb, heading for the door. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe if you find me some good smut, Magic Man.” Kingsley’s tail whipped around Caleb’s wrist, just for a second. Every inhabitant of that body had flirted with Caleb at some point. It was familiar, in a way Caleb found more comforting than most of Kingsley’s Molly-like mannerisms.

“Okay, who the fuck taught Kingsley about sex,” Beauregard grumbled as the rest of the Nein filed out of the house.

“He asked,” Fjord replied, his voice shooting up an octave as it did when he panicked.

Veth snorted. “Listen, King. When two people love each other very much…”

“Sometimes more than two,” Caleb added.

“Or sometimes when you love yourself very much,” said Veth.

Kingsley didn’t pay much heed to Veth’s final addition, dancing up to Caleb’s side and giving him an eyebrow. “Oh, that sounds like a story. Any advice?”

“Don’t trauma-bond and end up in a codependent relationship,” Caleb replied. “The sex is not worth it.”

“I mean, Astrid and Wulf are pret-ty hot,” said Jester.

“Ja, like putting your hand in an open flame.”

Beauregard slid up to Caleb’s other side. “Sometimes you worry me, man.”

“I am officially asking Caleb for relationship advice in the future,” said Kingsley. “I don’t know much, but I know I’d rather ask a man who knows what not to do.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say to that, so he circled back to the original topic. “I will ask Wulf about the smut shop next time I see him.” Wulf was just as awkward as Caleb most of the time. He only seemed smooth because he was built like a brick shithouse and had a deep voice. It would be less complicated than trying to ask Astrid. He wasn’t even sure Wulf read smut anymore. Or if Caleb wanted to know something like that about an ex he absolutely should not touch again.

Maybe they could just go to Zadash instead. Avoid the conversation entirely. Next time, maybe.

He kept walking towards the market.

#i'm both simultaneously sorry and not sorry for essek's joke in this chapter because i find it very funny and i don't know why #caleb widogast #critical role #shadowgast #fanfiction #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic #cr2

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veryvincible · 4 years ago

Note

How’s Tony relationship with Wanda in comics? I wonder if there’s friction between the comic fans as well

Despite being on-off Avengers for a long, long while, they didn’t actually have much of a meaningful relationship until something called Force Works in ‘94. Even when they were teammates, most of their interactions were little bits of dialogue to acknowledge that they knew each other and would talk to each other if they happened to appear on the same page, but... not much else.

I am not as well versed in Wanda as I am Tony, so keep that in mind.

Before going in-depth about the things they experienced together, there are some differences in ideology that don’t give them the best set-up in the world. They have different circumstances of birth, different “powersets”, and overall different approaches to things. Tony tends to be the oddball in most teams when it comes to his foresight and utilitarian mindset, but this is especially the case compared to Wanda, who sometimes doesn’t have the privilege of utilitarianism because of how her powers work; she’s capable of a lot, and on a daily basis, she exercises quite a bit of restraint.

Tony’s biggest mistakes were directly caused by him making decisions that were, at times, devoid of feeling (not that he didn’t feel anything making those decisions, he just discarded his feelings entirely). It’s a common theme with him to assume that he needs to disconnect himself emotionally from the “right decision”, because the right decision is often something he can’t handle. And when he can’t handle something he thinks needs to be done, what does he do? He does it anyway, and he lets it destroy him. That isn’t to say that his decisions are never based in feeling-- he is an incredibly emotional person, after all-- but his predominant feeling is guilt, and it serves more as a motivator than something that directly impacts which conclusions he comes to in the first place. We can clearly see where his head’s at when it comes to certain conflicts based on Civil War and Civil War II, where CW was rife with him making decisions that broke him in order to avoid the worst possible scenario, and CWII showed a side of him that wanted to believe his choice was the right one, wanted to believe the conclusions he’d drawn were correct, but was willing to give that up if trusted friends told him it wasn’t worth it. At no point does he say “maybe my plans/views/conclusions are garbage!” because he’s always had a complex relationship with his own ability to find best possible outcomes. He doubts himself constantly, but still acknowledges evidence and probability where he can find it. What changes is how willing he is to go through with these plans. Suddenly, when CW backfires harshly, he’s more likely to ask the questions of, “is this worth it?” and “do people want this?”

And then there’s Wanda, who isn’t... like that. Her biggest mistake wasn’t actually that well thought-out, and it’s built more on a feel-good sentiment than anything; if there’s this awful, awful cloud of oppression hanging over the heads of mutants and conflict between mutants and humans, then the best thing to do to make sure no one has to deal with that would be to... forcefully break those barriers down, right? It’s worth mentioning here that she’s been through a lot at the time of this decision, and when you compare her “I’m going through a lot” decisions with Tony’s “I’m going through a lot” decisions, you can kind of see a huge, huge difference between them.

Tony ignores his feelings, ignores the pain and suffering he knows he’ll have to see, and goes for numbers games. It’s a coping mechanism he’s had since he was a child, and it lives on in his superhero-ing to some extent; when he is at his worst (barring when he’s not sober, because that’s a different, more self-destructive beast entirely), he tries (or tried? he still kind of does this, but again, to a lesser extent) to disconnect from himself and from others when problem-solving.

Wanda, on the other hand... does not and cannot really disconnect herself from that. The suffering of the people is on her mind constantly, and it’s the main thing she chooses to remedy as soon as it crosses her mind to. It’s a deeper look into the mind of a woman whose life has been damaged many times over by prejudice and discrimination. Her pleading with reality to give everyone a happy ending (which, ironically, I don’t think Tony actually got in the new reality? but I don’t think that’s meant to comment on their relationship at all. I may be wrong on that one) is understandable if you’re also from a marginalized group, or if you can empathize with them. Even if everyone’s in agreement that she really should not have done that, it’s not hard to understand why. She didn’t just live in the suffering, she took it on entirely, forcing herself to bear the burden of a world that wasn’t real in hopes that it would be preferable to the world that was.

Tony can be aware of marginalization (and, as someone who was physically disabled and is probably still mentally disabled, can empathize to some degree), but he can’t ever really feel what Wanda feels as someone who really can’t go two seconds without identity-based conflict totally obliterating her. On the flipside, Wanda herself can never feel what Tony feels-- a disconnect from identity for the sake of discussing “best case scenarios” where everyone’s still in pain, the ability to separate oneself from these conflicts and allow for vague concepts like “short term suffering/hardships” to refer to years, decades, generations, worth of struggling for the sake of a better future when there are struggling people now. That’s not to say Tony’s never sensitive to current issues (he tries very, very hard to help people who are struggling now, and pours a lot of money into it) and it’s also not to say that Wanda’s somehow incapable of rational decision making as a result of her constant oppression; neither of these things are true. But their gut responses to certain problems are different. On top of that, they can both afford different levels of consequences, and they’ll be viewed differently by people by exercising roughly the same amount of influence. They just aren’t the same, and where characters like Steve and Tony find common ground anyway, it’s harder for characters like Wanda to find common ground with Tony.

Now for what we’ve all been... waiting for...

Force Works!

This really isn’t my favorite run of all time. The writing’s kind of weird, the art is garish at best and totally problematic at worst, and though there are elements of characterization that are kind of true to the core of the characters involved, it’s still, uh... I don’t know, executed in a way that’s disconcerting? It’s kind of like if Civil War II did what Civil War II did, but then also made Carol wear a Warbird-style bikini, and also added cool plot elements like Tony saying, “Carol, you’re right!” right at the start and then... continuing to believe Carol is wrong, because that’s the plot. Oh, and then Tony kills some people and is later retconned to have not killed people, because that sucked of him and was super weird for his character.

There’s just a lot of weird stuff in Force Works. If you like it, it’s fine to like it (honestly, we’ve all flipped through pages of difficult-to-decipher art and less than flattering outfits for women for the sake of reading the stories we want to read), but. You know. Not my cup of tea.

Anyway, everything that I mentioned kind of comes into play with Force Works.

Here’s the gist. The Avengers are having some conflict (when aren’t they?) and Tony runs off to make a team that works to prevent villainy, not a team that just fights it (despite prevention being part of the “fighting bad guys” in many runs up to this point, as far as I’m aware, but, sure, it works within the context).

And who does he want to lead that team?

Wanda Maximoff!

He’s like, “Wanda, for realsies, I need your help.”

And Wanda’s like, “Shut up. Yes, I will do this,” but sexily, for some some reason.

And they have an issue of relative peace, until Tony starts to realize that he doesn’t actually like... not leading this time. And, sure, he said, “a partnership of skills leading the team together”, but he also said, “I want Wanda to lead the team!”

So, Wanda’s leading the team.

So, Tony’s not having a good time, because Wanda’s doing what he asked her to do. He probably should have seen that coming.

At some point, the Force Works band together to deal with some stuff in Slorenia, which is Marvel’s fun way of saying they’re going to have some commentary on the Bosnian war but they weren’t going to call it Bosnia, like they have commentary on the government without naming the president. Everyone knows what it’s meant to be, but they’re just not calling it that.

Already, you can see the differences in how Tony and Wanda's first interactions with the news go. Wanda has a much more personal connection to the place, and Tony’s thinking of it as a location for a mission, sharing what intel he has available. Tony’s not exactly being callous here-- it’s not inappropriate for him to say, “Oh, here’s what I know from owning the company I own”-- but he is starting off with less investment than Wanda.

This continues into the start of their mission, where Wanda’s taking charge and using her connection to Slorenia (the language, the knowledge of the politics, etc.) to make the mission run more smoothly. In the beginning, Tony actually falls in line, letting her take the lead without grumbling this time.

(This isn’t important to anything, but I’d like to mention here that “hex energy” is kind of like the 90s Wanda equivalent of “transistor-powered!” objects for 60s Tony, which is... very funny.)

So, they deal with one antagonist in Slorenia, some things are resolved, and... Wanda would like to stick around to maybe keep helping people here.

And Tony says:

Tony’s argument is that the issue they’d gone to deal with had been dealt with, according to their funky computer that tells them when things are dealt with.

And Wanda’s like, “Well, I think what we just dealt with was part of a bigger thing! That we should deal with more!”

And Tony’s like, “Nope!” despite Wanda being the official team leader. So, they’re not having a great time there.

There’s a little more, but it’s all pretty much to do with the same kind of stuff (and then also the part where Tony kills people, but again, that technically didn’t... happen, anymore, so. Yay?)

And this kind of just... fizzled out eventually, and canon put things back together as canon often does, and now they don’t have much of a problem with each other again. They’ve had some positive interactions and on multiple occasions, they’ve been cool teammates who respect each other, so.

I don’t know.

What I can say is that, aside from House of M and Civil War (wherein people who aren’t familiar with Wanda and Tony use these two events to heavily criticize Wanda and Tony despite really having no stake in the argument, which is kind of a comics dudebro move that’s never been awesome for anyone the way it’s usually handled), Wanda and Tony fans don’t tend to... think much of each other, I guess? There’s really not enough basis in canon for either group of people to have longstanding personal gripes.

616 operates like that a lot; where the MCU has very clear relationships between characters, plotlines, and messages, 616 has... inconsistency and sometimes-poor writing and political commentary with characters literally changed at their core sometimes to fill a certain role (hence why some ships can seem to have totally different dynamics based on the fan you’re talking to, why primarily X-Men fans often don’t like the Avengers, and why some debates about characters will never be settled using only the evidence we have now).

Here’s something I’d like to say before closing out:

I think, due to the fact that this was a very specific kind of political commentary intermixed with some strange characterization choices, I don’t really think this needs to be the end-all, be-all of Tony and Wanda’s potential friendship. Sure, they have these differences, but Steve and Tony have very similar differences that they’ve overcome through mutual understanding. I’m not saying that Tony and Wanda would be friends, nor am I saying that they should be. All I really want to say is that they certainly could be with the right plot beats and characterization, and that’s a nice thought.

So, if there’s any desire at all out there to write a very positive Tony and Wanda relationship, I’d say go for it, 100%. There is some canon basis for it, despite most of it being in between the lines or... contained within one or two scenes. We could all use more friendships to gush over. :)

#cassks #the day has come... to acknowledge force works...#i am once again answering asks to cope with the trapped sort of boredom that very ill days push on people #so if any of this is totally incomprehensible. my bad

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

Text

Avenger preferences: you self harm warning

Avenger preferences: You self harm

Word count: 3382

Warnings: self harm, depression

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Steve had been away on a mission for a few days now. He wasn’t due back for another couple of days. Your depression always got worse when he was away, mainly due to being alone. That coupled with anxiety awaiting his return - or rather if he would return - caused you to develop some unhealthy methods of coping. You were in the bathroom, knife in your hand, with blood running down your stomach. They were the easiest scars to hide.

You heard a door close. “(Y/N), I’m back!” you heard Steve call

Shit

You called back as evenly as you could, “Yeah, hun, I’ll just be a minute in here.” Steve put down his bags and stepped into the kitchen to get a glass of water. That’s when he saw something that puzzled him - one of the kitchen knives was missing from the set. And based on the open slot, he realized that it was the sharpest one.

He made his way to the bathroom you were in “Darling,” he started nervously, “Where’s the last knife to the kitchen set?”

Double shit.

“Uhh...I’m not sure Steve” you replied weakly, trying to clean up as quickly as you could.

There was a beat of silence as Steve stood outside and you held your breath. “(Y/N), I need you to open this door. Please.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. Everything was cleaned except for the knife. Where were you supposed to hide that? Realizing you didn’t have an option, you walk over to the door and open it to see a very disheveled and tired Steve. He must have come straight to you when he got back. Looking behind you he saw the knife, and straightened up, looking you up and down. He was checking for where your injuries were.

“I’m sorry Steve,” you said, lifting your shirt. After a few seconds, he wrapped you in a hug and said “It’s okay. We’ll get through this together.”

Tony Stark

You didn’t exactly feel the need to worry about Tony finding out. He was always in one of 3 places: out saving the world as Iron Man, throwing a party, or in his lab. So he never really noticed when you started wearing long sleeves or when you began flashing fake smiles. He was always busy with something more important.

You were self harming almost every night, and it was mostly on your arms. You did it at night because Tony thought you were sleeping, and was in his lab. Little did he know you had other things in mind for when the sun went down

But one day, you were talking to him while in his lab. You had picked up some of the science-y knowledge that Tony knew, and were vaguely familiar with all of the random things he said to himself. He found it cute how you would try to help, and he’d let you

“Hey, can you hand me that wrench over there?” he asked you.

“Sure thing,” you replied and walked over to grab it. You went to hand it to him but when you did, you didn’t notice how your sleeve had begun to inch it’s way up your wrist.

“Thanks babe,” he said, then did a double take. “Uh, babe...what’s that?” he asked. You immediately realized that your sleeve had rolled up and he had seen some of your cuts. You tugged it down and crossed your arms, chuckling lightly. “It’s nothing Tony, don’t worry about it.”

He dropped the wrench and made his way over to you, grabbing your arm and tugging up your sleeve to reveal scars and scabs in neat lines all over your wrist and forearm. He gasped and looked you hard in the eyes, gesturing to your arms. “This is nothing? Because it looks like you're slicing your arm open. Please, tell me I’m wrong. And don’t try to blame a cat because there isn’t one in this building.”

You looked away in shame. You knew he was just trying to lighten the mood but it still stung a little. “Look, I’m sorry. I just get depressed sometimes and this helps. I can’t explain it.”

He let out a laugh. “So when you’re in pain, you cause yourself more pain to deal with it?” he deadpanned.

“Tony,” you finally looked him in the eyes and he got more serious when he saw how in pain you were. “I don’t know how to explain it. It just helps.”

“Well can I try and help?” A baffled expression crossed your face, and he mocked being offended. “Wow, (Y/N), yes I, Tony Stark, can help people when I want to.” which caused you both to laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes”

Natasha Romanoff

You were training one morning (make that EARLY morning) with Nat and were working on your hand-to-hand combat. Nat being Nat, she was easily beating your ass, thoroughly tiring you out. You went to land a punch and she grabbed your arm and flipped you.

You groaned in pain and made no moves to get up, thinking that you earned yourself a small break. Trying to catch your breath, you didn’t notice that when she had flipped you, your shirt had ridden up, revealing your secrets.

Natasha looked at you with a confused glance. I don’t remember her ever saying anything about this. She doesn’t even seem depressed or remotely sad. “Hey, (Y/N)? What are those marks on your sides?”

You bolted up and turned around, tugging your shirt down and cursing yourself for slipping up. You fumbled through possible excuses in your head, finally settling on “I got them on a mission.”

You turn around to see an unconvinced Natasha. She questioned “Really? Because you haven’t been on a mission for over a week now and these,” she lifted up your shirt again, “can’t be more than a few days old. So i’ll let you try again - where did you get these marks from?”

You sighed and raised your hands in defeat. “Fine, Nat, you win. I did it. I hate myself and I cut myself most nights because of how fucked up I am. Happy?”

Natasha was taken aback. I mean, she knew what the marks were but she didn’t realize how you felt about yourself. “Hey, I never said you were fucked up, (Y/N). No one thinks that. You don’t have to either.”

Tears started forming in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” you said.

Natasha came over to hug you. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t let it happen again or I will have no choice but to fight you for trying to hurt my friend.”

Thor Odinson

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but you knew he wouldn’t understand. Not in the normal “you-don't-get-it” understanding that most people have on Earth, but quite literally wouldn’t know anything about it. He was Asgardian, after all.

So you didn’t you kept your self harm to non-obvious places. Places that were easy to hide or explain. Shoulder, back, stomach, thighs...that kind of thing.

Thor always knew that something was bothering you but he decided not to push it and to wait for you to open up to him. Until one night he walked in on you wearing a tank top. You had always worn some kind of sleeves around him, but baring your shoulders gave him a clear view of the cuts across both of them.

“Lady (Y/N), What has happened?!” he exclaimed. “You’re hurt!”

You turned around, mortified at what was happening right now. This could NOT be happening. “Look, I can explain -”

“Do that later. Right now we have to get you to Banner. He can -” “NO!” you screamed, and Thor for a second looked scared. “My lady, what do you mean? You’re injured. At least tell me who’s done this to you.” At this you chuckled and shook your head. “I did, Thor. It’s just something I do.” He looked at you questioningly. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t understand. This isn’t a problem on Asgard. When I feel trapped in my mind, I hurt myself to distract myself. Physical pain for me, is easier than emotional pain.”

He approaches you and cups your face in your hands. “You are right, fair maiden. I know not what you speak of, this is all new to me. But hear me when I say that I will do anything to help you. I love you.”

Bruce Banner

You and Bruce were always pretty open about topics like depression. He struggles with it too, a lot of it was behind him but it still flared up every now and then. But you never quite told him everything - you never told him about the cutting. Or about the suicidal ideation. You knew he’d understand, you just didn’t want the conversation to end with him freaking out and turning into the Other Guy.

And so you would talk about the emptiness you felt, but you would leave it there. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. But every now and then he would pick up on different things.

When you bumped into objects, you always seemed to wince in pain before resuming your usual appearance. When he would move to hug you, you would stiffen up as if you were afraid. And he never caught you in anything but long sleeves - which was concerning considering it was the dead of July.

And he would ask about these things. He could tell there was something you didn’t want to tell him, but he would drop it, not wanting to push.

But one night, he woke up to use the bathroom to find it closed and locked with you inside. And he heard you crying. He knocked on the door and immediately you stopped. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked behind the wood.

On the other side you were curled up in a ball leaning against the bathtub, blood now dried on your stomach. “Bruce, it’s like, 2 AM, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you?” he retorted. You sighed. “Besides, I kind of need to use the bathroom so I’d greatly appreciate you opening the door.”

“Shit…” you cursed softly. But Bruce had heard you, which only caused him to worry further. “You sure you’re okay (Y/N)?” he asked. “Y-yeah…” you responded, trying your best to clean up as quietly as possible. “Just give me a sec.”

A minute or so later you opened the door and smiled softly at him, which he returned. He could see the dried tear tracks on your face but decided to leave it for now. But when he went to hug you, you hissed in pain.

He pulled back, worried that he had hurt you. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” You shook your head. “Nothing you did wrong, Bruce.” He looked you straight in the eye. “(Y/N), seriously...what’s going on? I’m not backing down this time.” You sighed in defeat and looked away, which told him what he needed to know. Gently, he lifted up your shirt to see the newest cuts among older ones, ranging forms days to months old. “Oh (Y/N)...Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to freak out or leave me.”

He looked at you and shook his head. “You know I’ve had issues with depression too. I understand this kind of thing. Look. “ he lifted his sleeve to reveal faded marks on his wrists. “I tried to get rid of the Other Guy. to forget him. But he’s not going anywhere. And neither am I.”

Peter Parker

You went to school with Peter and were really good friends with him. You loved his science puns and T-shirts with jokes on them. He loved how you understood him and shared a love for science. You two would often geek out together.

One night, you were bother studying, and you felt an itch. The itch. You needed to do it, you needed to cut. You didn’t know why, there was no trigger. It was just something that needed to be done, and fast.

You began itching at your wrist, hoping the stinging sensation would help it to subside until you Peter left and you could do it in peace. After a few minutes you realized that scratching wouldn't help enough and you needed a blade instead of your nails. You lifted the book from your lap and stood up. “Be right back,” you said to Peter. He merely nodded in acknowledgement, too wrapped up in his chemistry to notice something was wrong

You had it all down to a few minutes. Slice, wash it, bandage, hide the blade, flush the bloody napkins. Which was exactly what you did and 3 minutes later you were back in your room with Peter

But little did you know that this time, you cut a little deeper and were bleeding a little bit more. And the blood had seeped through the bandage and was beginning to spot your sleeve. Neither of you noticed at first. But when Peter went to ask you a question, his eyes stopped on your sleeve. “(Y/N), is that...Is that blood on your sleeve?”

You looked down and quickly clasped a hand over it. Shit this can’t be happening. “Uhh…”

Peter looked you in the eye, worry etched on his features. “What’s going on right now? Why is there blood on your sleeve?”

“It’s nothing Peter-”

“”Then let me see your arm.” He held out his hand. You looked between his eyes and his hand. “What? No, I said it’s nothing.” “If it’s nothing then let me see for myself. Why don’t you want me to see it?” He questioned. “Because I said, it’s not a big deal.”

“Dammit (Y/N).” He started as he moved to sit next to you. He pulled back your sleeve despite your protests and froze when he saw the bandage completely soaked through with blood. When he peeled back the bandage, his face went white as he realized what was going on.

He held you in a bone crushing hug, and you had a little trouble breathing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as his voice wavered. “I dunno, I didn’t know what to say.” He held you a little tighter. “Well I’m here for you now.”

Bucky Barnes

You felt inadequate. Like you didn’t deserve anything you had, especially not your boyfriend, Bucky. Sure, he had some rough days as the Winter Soldier, but he remembered now. He was the sweet, caring, and protective man you were dating. He still had nightmares most nights, and you would talk him down from the panic that was evident in his eyes. You calmed each other down.

But something that you had never told Bucky about was your own past. You never really liked to talk about it with anyone. You fought a long battle with depression and self harm years before the Avengers were even a thing. But as you came to work for the team, things improved. You stopped self harming and you didn’t feel numb all the time. But you still had reminders of your struggles all over your body.

But one night, as you were getting ready for bed, you caught Bucky staring at his left arm, running his flesh hand over where the skin met metal. “Hey there,” you said. “Something wrong?”

He looked up at you with pain in his eyes. He just shook his head and said, “Nothing really. I just...I hate this arm. Every time I look at it I see all the things that I did, all the people I hurt. I don’t know. There’s just no escaping it.”

You looked down and nodded. “I get that. I know what that feels like,” you said as you met his gaze again.

He gave a forced smile and asked, “No offense, Doll, but how could you understand?” You sighed to yourself. This was it. You were wearing a sports bra under your shirt, so you removed your shirt, revealing all the scars that adorned your body. You watched as Bucky’s jaw dropped slightly, taking you in. “I did this to myself, years ago, and even thoughI don’t do it anymore, I remember every single one of them. And I'm reminded of that anytime I see myself.”

He got up from the bed and made his way over to you, hand hovering over you, afraid that if he touched you you might break. You meet his gaze again. “I don’t do it anymore, Buck. I feel a lot better now. But i do understand what you mean.”

He smiled back at you. “I know you do, doll. I love you so much.”

Clint Barton

You were in the shooting range with Hawkeye himself, giving you tips on how to shoot an arrow. You were very grateful for the help, and Clint was just happy that someone finally showed interest in archery besides him.

He stood in front of you, giving you tips on how to adjust your form to have more control of the shot. As you were drawing back arrows, though, the sleeves of your windbreaker were riding up, revealing some angry red lines on your wrist.

He noticed, but decided not to say something immediately. Later on when you guys were packing up, he decided to bring it up. “Are you feeling okay (Y/N)?”

You chuckled back at him. “Clint, I just killed it with the bow and arrow. Yes, I’m feeling just fine.”

“What happened to your wrist?”

Your smile faltered. Surely he hadn’t seen..?

“ (Y/N), What’s going on?” he asked.

You crossed your arms in front of you and shrugged. “I don’t know. It just helps when my emotions are out of control. It’s one of the only things that makes me feel good.”

Clint lifted your chin to look you in the eyes. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Maybe I can help you. And if anyone causes you to feel bad about themselves, let me know so I can shoot them.” he said with a wink

Sam Wilson.

You had a lot of guilt that had eaten away at you over the course of your life. Your parent’s divorce, making other people angry...but most importantly your mental health. Years of self doubt had taken a heavy toll on you, and you had gotten to the point where you thought everything was your fault. That you messed up. And that you had to fix it.

And for you, fixing it meant causing yourself pain in whatever way you could. And most of the time you wouldn’t take care of the wound afterwards, which leads to some nasty infections.

Sam, having led a group that got together to discuss moving past guilt, recognized almost immediately that you held a lot of it, and that you blame yourself for it. One day, he decided to approach you about it.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” when you gave him a confused expression he continued, “I don’t know...you just blame yourself for anything possible even though you had nothing to do about it. Why do you think everything is your fault?

You shrugged, averting your gaze. “Dunno, Sammy. It always was my fault. And I deserve to be punished for it. That way something is being done about it.”

Now it was Sam’s time to be confused. “What do you mean (Y/N?)”

You pulled back your sleeves enough to let Sam see what you would do to yourself every night, and his expression saddened as he looked you in the eye again, you were now crying. “Everything is always my fault.”

He moved to hug you. “Hey now,” he started. “None of this is your fault. I don’t know what happened or what someone said to you, but I am telling you this: It is so totally not your fault.” You continued to cry. “Do you want to talk about it?” you nodded at him.he held you a little tighter

“Where do you want to start?”

#avengers #preferences #fanfiction #selfharm #comfort #captainamerica #buckybarnes #samwilson #brucebanner #natasharomanoff #tonystark #clintbarton #peterparker #thor odinson

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thethirdwheel404 · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 18: This is Now

hey @punksarahreese I did it

Dr. Bekker sits on the couch in one of the doctor’s lounges. After today, she just needed to find a quiet space, away from everything else.

Her knee bounces up and down, matched with her pensive expression with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, hands resting on knees, is a telltale sign of hidden discomfort.

Sarah finds her.

“Ava.”

Ava looks up at her.

“Sarah. Hi.”

Sarah stands there, tentative.

“I, uh, wanted to check in on you. See how you are doing.”

“I’m fine.”

Sarah furrows her brow. She gets slightly annoyed at Ava’s seeming deflection.

“Today was a lot,” she tries again. She sits down in a chair across from the couch. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

“Sarah, I’m a doctor. I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon. I am good at dealing with my anxiety. Separating work and pleasure. I know how to not let one bleed into the other,” Ava snaps back.

Sarah doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know how it is. You have to lock things up and move along. If you let them take a hold of you, you’ll drown.”

Ava stands up and makes to storm out of the room. Running again.

“Where do they go?” Sarah asks. Innocent. Like she’s actually curious. Ava stops and slowly, hesitantly, turns back to the young doctor.

“The emotions. After you shut them in and put them away. Where do they go?”

Ava looks into the other woman’s eyes and sees nothing but care and concern. Ava looks away.

“They don’t.”

The words coming from Ava are an admittance of some sort. Some habit that she wants to claim she is better than.

When Ava finds the courage to look back at Sarah, the young doctor gives her a sympathetic smile. She nods her head subtly back to the couch. Ava looks back and forth between Sarah and the couch, then walks back across the room to sit down.

Ava’s not really sure where to start.

“Sarah…”

“It’s okay to have coping mechanisms, Ava, you just have to be knowledgeable of them so they don’t become dangerous.”

“It’s just safer this way.”

“I know.”

“You have to be okay with losing people. A lot of people. How many do you think we lost just today?”

Sarah debates what to say.

“Today was a bad day.”

Ava scoffs, looking away and to the side. Brushing it off.

Lull.

“I don’t much like the ED,” Ava admits.

“Really? I feel like I see you down there all the time.”

Ava laughs to herself. That’s because you’re there.

She doesn’t say that.

“It’s entirely Connor’s realm. The trauma surgeon. And it’s the one place I can’t compete.”

“‘Compete’?”

“It’s all a competition to him.” She pauses. “But it’s not just that. Med school and residency are all about competition. You know that. It’s… very easy to get lost in the crowd. So, in order to get yourself seen is you call for the bigger, riskier surgeries, if they have a better possible outcome.”

“Riskier?”

Ava shrugs.

“Fortune favors the bold.”

Sarah quirks her brow at that. It’s unusual to hear her using the same phrase as Connor.

“I know,” Ava says at her expression. “But with kids, it’s not fair to play the odds with their lives. Adults? I figure, everyone’s sinned.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No,” Ava relents. “But, they’ve lived long enough to determine how much their lives are worth. Kids haven’t gotten the chance.”

Sarah nods.

“So, is the sense of competition the only reason why you don’t like the ED?”

“No. Not really. It is a big part of it, though. The OR’s just… cleaner, than the ED. In the OR, I’m more in control, which is a habit I’ve been meaning to break.”

“Being in the OR?” Sarah asks, confused. The question causes Ava to laugh lightly.

“No. Being in control. It’s an old habit, needing everything to be in its place, at least at work or school. Even back to when I was a little kid.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being organized.”

Ava smiles up at Sarah. Mood lightened, anxiety lifted for now. Talking with Sarah always seemed to have that effect.

“And what about you?” Ava asks. “How are you holding up?”

Sarah thinks for a moment.

“It’s always hard losing people.”

Ava nods.

“How tired are you feeling? Are you up for dinner?”

“Maybe. Movie? My place?”

“Sure.”

Ava stands. She walks across the room to the door, squeezing Sarah’s shoulder as she passes.

“I’ll find you later.”

#chicago med #reesker #ava bekker #sarah reese #mine #I actually wrote something!!#fanfic #the way they seem more comfortable with each other than in the other thing i wrote that is supposed to come after #continuity i dont know her

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perfecttimeseleven · 4 years ago

Link

Perfect Times Eleven Ep. 1 TRANSCRIPT

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

REMINGTON

Goddamn it! You really think tying a tie wouldn’t be this hard.

VOICE FROM PHONE

And that, my friends, is how you tie a tie!

REMINGTON

(overlapping)

No! No it’s not! Fuck you!

VOICE FROM PHONE

Hope you found this video helpful. Hit up that “like” button below and don’t forget to subscribe to my channel for more pro bro tips from Menswear Mike! Hang tie-ght. Haha, get it? Just a little joke for ya on this fine Menswear Mike Monday morning.

(REMINGTON grabs her phone and turns the video off.)

REMINGTON

Shit. Ah.. maybe if... nope. That’s worse. Is that a zit? God hates me.

(exhales)

My name is Remington Long and I am here because I hear eleven voices in my head and a teacup chihuahua tried to claw my eye out — no. That’s too on the nose.

(pauses)

My name is Remington Long! How are you? I’m perfectly sane! Fuck. Uh...yeah, no. I’m already talking to a mirror. Who’s gonna believe that? Okay. My name is Remington Long, and oh, heavenly therapist, please bestow the blesséd knowledge upon me so I can maybe, maaaaybe have a shot at normal life. Except, y’know, my life’s already fine, except sometimes animals attack me, I guess, like the chihuahua from yesterday. So I actually don’t know why the hell my parents are paying you. But yes! My name is Remington Long and I’m here for a heaping helping of therapy! Fuck yeah! Ugh.

(1. Therapy Upstate.)

REMINGTON

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

IT’S UNFAIR TO ME. Here, I’ll give it to ya straight —

WELL, KIDS, YOU KNOW YOUR PARENTS THINK YOU’RE REALLY PSYCHO

WHEN YOU’RE FORCED TO HIKE OVER TO DELAWARE COUNTY FOR

THERAPY UPSTATE.

I’VE LIVED FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS LIKE THIS! I THINK I’VE GOT THE HANG OF IT BY NOW.

DON’T NEED SOME PRETENTIOUS PRICK’S USELESS SHIT ABOUT MEDITATION OR HOW

TALKING ABOUT MY FEELINGS WILL MAKE EVERYTHING SO, SO MUCH BETTER!

PLUS, HE’LL PROBABLY BE OLD AND WEAR ROUND GLASSES AND A TARTAN SWEATER.

Ugh, I can see it already, HE’LL SAY

”TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS” AND I’LL BE LIKE ”ERR, I GOT NONE!”

AND THEN WE’LL JUST SIT, STARE AT EACH OTHER FOR A BIT

IN SILENCE TILL THE SESSION IS DONE.

Plot twist! WE’LL. FALL IN LOVE

HE’LL TREAT ME WELL BUT I’LL GET HIM FIRED

FOR HAVING RELATIONS WITH A MINOR —

Wait. No. I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. Shit.

A WHOLE ASS ADULT BEING MADE TO GO TO

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

WHERE THERE’S TONS OF TREES AND ALL THE STORES CLOSE AFTER EIGHT.

I’M JUST CONSIDERING EVERY POSSIBLE SCENARIO IN AN ATTEMPT TO PREPARE ME,

SO I WON’T HAVE TO GO TO MORE THERAPY UPSTATE.

SO I’VE GOT VOICES IN MY HEAD! WELL, I CAN STILL HAPPILY EXIST!

I CAN’T EVEN HEAR THEM IF I KEEP THIS TACKY BRACELET ON MY WRIST.

AND EVEN WHEN I DO, THEY JUST...REPEAT ELEVEN RANDOM WORDS.

(REMINGTON unclasps her bracelet and it drops to the ground.)

REMINGTON’S VOICES

(jumbled and overlapping)

HARVEST, OCEAN, CREATE, CHANGE, FIGHT, ART, FAMILY, FREEDOM, JOYCE, TRADITION, BIRDS

REMINGTON

See? THEY AREN’T THAT ANNOYING AND THEY’RE QUITE EASY TO IGNORE

JUST LIKE REAL-LIFE PEOPLE THAT TO ME, KINDA BORE.

WHAT WOULD THIS THERAPIST KNOW THAT I DON’T ALREADY

ABOUT WHAT I’VE DEALT WITH MY ENTIRE LIFE? OH, YES, I’M FEELING PETTY ABOUT

THERAPY! THERAPY UPSTATE.

THEY SAY THIS IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE

BUT I’M AN INDEPENDENT MAN WHO DON’T NEED NO MAN

TO SHARE ALL MY CARES WITH AT THERAPY UPSTATE.

I KNOW I’M A BURDEN! I DON’T WANNA BECOME MORE OF ONE!

STOP THROWING MONEY AT THIS! IT WILL NOT GO AWAY.

SAVE THOSE FUNDS FOR MY COLLEGE, OR, BETTER YET, ACKNOWLEDGE

THAT I WON’T GO TO COLLEGE, AND THAT IS OKAY!

I CAN BE NORMAL! I’LL DO FINE! I PROMISE! I PROMISE! I PROMISE.

THERAPY. THERAPY UPSTATE.

YOUR PARENTS SEE YOU CAN’T HANDLE YOURSELF...HOW GREAT.

IT’S A MARK ON THE CALENDAR TO CONFIRM THEY’VE RAISED

A DISAPPOINTMENT, A HOPELESS, CRAZED

FREAK WHO THEY HAVE TO CODDLE, WHO AIN’T GOING ANYWHERE AT THIS RATE!

OH, PLEASE HAVE SOME HOPE IN ME!

I DON’T NEED HELP TO COPE, YOU SEE!

DON’T WRITE SOMETHING FRIGHTFUL

ON MY PERMANENT RECORD OR I’LL NEVER GET A JOB I DON’T HATE!

OH, PLEASE, DON’T SEND ME TO THERAPY UPSTATE!

ACT ONE

SCENE TWO

DR. MORELLO

Yes, uh, hello, Remington.

DAISY

Remington? That’s fucking wack! Remy, like the rat!

DR. MORELLO

Daisy. Language!

REMINGTON

Uh, hi.

DAISY

I’m Daisy, Ratatouille!

DR. MORELLO

My name is Dr. Morello.

REMINGTON

Yeah, uh, my parents told me about you.

DR. MORELLO

Good. This wasn’t what you expected, was it, dear?

REMINGTON

Oh. Uh, no. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very nice house, but yeah. Like I was expecting some really clinical looking...space? You are also not what I expected, but, uh, in a good way! This...is also...such a warm color scheme I’d never have imagined...

(catches herself going off topic)

It is very nice to meet you, Dr. Morello! How can you help with the, uh, voices in my head thing?

(pauses)

Shit. Sorry. I mean, shit, oh sh-...sorry. Shouldn’t have cursed. I didn’t mean like you’re seeking me out to help me, I’m the one seeking your help —

DAISY

You’re making it worse, nerd.

REMINGTON

Yeah, also there’s, uh, Daisy? Um, there’s children here. Didn’t expect that. Who? Why? Uh, who’s the other one?

DR. MORELLO

Ohh! Yes —

REMINGTON

Yes, there’s children here.

DR. MORELLO

Yes, yes. Remington, I would like you to meet my other patients. Come over here! Be polite!

JAY

Ugh.

DAISY

I said hi to her already!

JAY

Hi, I guess.

REMINGTON

Okay, I can respect a girl with a well-defined aesthetic —

JAY

Then why are you dressed like a sad lawyer?

DR. MORELLO

Kids, this is Remington’s first appointment, and you both know what that means.

DAISY

(bored)

I’ll get the fear-puke bucket.

REMINGTON

The what?

DAISY

Wait. Hold the phone. Hold on. Remington Long...Are you the kid who got attacked by the...

JAY

Oh, wait, yeah! Shiiiiiit!

(DAISY and JAY try to contain their laughter.)

DAISY

...teacup chihuahua?

(JAY doubles down in laughter.)

REMINGTON

(unamused)

Yeah. Nice to meet you.

DR. MORELLO

Kids, be nice. Okay, now this is Jay.

(DAISY and JAY calm down.)

REMINGTON

Who’s already mocked me twice. Good start. Hello.

JAY

(clears throat a little)

Hey —

DR. MORELLO

(interrupting)

Now that that’s out of the way —

DAISY

(exiting)

Fear-puke bucket time!

REMINGTON

Okay, what does that mean?

DR. MORELLO

(ignoring her)

— let’s get down to business. Now — That bracelet on your wrist. It’s the accessory you use to block the voices out, yes?

REMINGTON

Yeah.

DR. MORELLO

And when you take it off, can you describe what these voices are like?

REMINGTON

There’s like, a lot of them, and they just say words, I guess. It’s overlapping and each voice says a word, and then that just repeats, like, I don’t know, over and over, like —

JAY

Like a broken record in your brain.

REMINGTON

...Yeah. What she said.

(turning back to DR. MORELLO)

Wait, so all your patients have the same problem?

DR. MORELLO

Essentially, yes.

(pauses)

Of course, I do too.

REMINGTON

What?

(DAISY enters with a big yellow bucket, which she plunks in front of REMINGTON.)

DAISY

Fear-puke bucket time.

JAY

It’s always more like panic attack puke, if anything —

DAISY

Yeah, but that doesn’t have the same ring to it.

REMINGTON

What’s this for?

DAISY/JAY

Just in case.

REMINGTON

Of what?

DR. MORELLO

Remington, this isn’t some disease or disorder. You see, ah, living things have a soul, right?

REMINGTON

Okay, yeah, I guess?

DR. MORELLO

Well, souls don’t die with the living thing. They go on to inhabit another body.

REMINGTON

Reincarnation?

DR. MORELLO

Yes, some call it that. A transference of energy. A shift of...ah, physical matter around an entity, a...crowding of energies for space, a—

REMINGTON

Wack.

DR. MORELLO

Wack indeed, Remington.

REMINGTON

So my voices are some byproduct of, like, reincarnation?

DAISY

Sorta.

DR. MORELLO

If the soul lives a good, fulfilling, pure life — at least, as the books say — such a thing -- a “pure life” -- is hard to define, it gets reincarnated as human.

REMINGTON

And if it doesn’t?

JAY.

It turns into an animal.

REMINGTON

Damn, that’s rough.

DAISY

(to JAY)

She’s taking this surprisingly well.

DR. MORELLO

People who hear these voices are people whose souls have been reincarnated as human for several lifetimes in a row. The voices are remnants of previous human lives.

REMINGTON

So what you’re saying is voices mean there’s, like, dead people in your head?

DR. MORELLO

That’s putting it a little crassly, but...yes.

REMINGTON

So...there’s dead people in your head?

DR. MORELLO

Yes.

REMINGTON

All of you?

DAISY/JAY

Yeah.

REMINGTON

Me?

JAY

(a little irritated)

Yes!

REMINGTON

So this is some kind of therapy for dead-people-in-your-head...people? Fine. But why do these dead people say random words? Does it all mean anything? Am I just really stupid and not connecting some obvious dots?

JAY

Yes.

(DR. MORELLO stands up. 2. Dead-People-In-Your-Head People.)

DR. MORELLO

NOW, A SOUL MOVES FROM BODY TO BODY,

BUT EACH LIFE LEAVES ITS TRACE.

A SINGLE WORD FOR EACH HUMAN

TOO OFTEN THOUGHT ABOUT TO ERASE

NOW WHEN SOULS HAVE BEEN REINCARNATED

AS HUMAN SEVERAL TIMES IN A ROW

IT GETS TO THE EXTENT WHERE THE SOUL IS SO HUMAN,

ITS HOST HEARS ECHOES OF LONG AGO.

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

EVERYONE’S GOT DEAD PEOPLE IN THEIR HEADS, PEOPLE!

JAY

ONLY WE’RE THE LUCKY BASTARDS WHO CAN HEAR ‘EM.

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

THERE’S NO WAY TO MAKE ‘EM GO AWAY!

DAISY

NO MAGIC PILL, POTION, OR SERUM!

JAY

SO USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE IF YOU’RE NOT A LITTLE BITCH —

DR. MORELLO

Jay!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WE’RE ALL DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE

DAISY

AND THOUGH IT SOUNDS A BIT DARK,

WE’VE JUST INHERITED SOULS FROM PURE AND WHOLESOME

FOLKS WHO’D CLEAN UP LITTER IN THE PARK!

REMINGTON

OH, SO USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE SINCE THEY’RE ALL LITTLE BITCHES —

DR. MORELLO

No! WHAT JAY MEANT IS WE CAN LEARN FROM THEM.

YOU’LL FIND THEY’RE NO MYSTERY!

IF YOU

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

CONCENTRATE ON ONE WORD,

DR. MORELLO

YOU CAN UNLOCK A HISTORY.

WE’RE TIES BETWEEN GENERATIONS

WHO OBSERVE AND PRESERVE

THIS SOUL’S UNTAINTED PURITY

SO WE GET THE NEXT LIFE WE DESERVE!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WHEN YOU’RE DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

No pressure, but your past lives all were really good...

WE’RE SORTA RARE, SO WE’D SORTA CARE

TO NOT GO EXTINCT...UNDERSTOOD?

DR. MORELLO

SO WE ALL CONSIDER BEING MORE SELFLESS...

JAY

NOTE THE KEY WORD THERE IS “CONSIDER”!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

WHEN YOU’RE DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

YOU’RE WORKING FOR A HIGHER PURPOSE!

THERE’S SO MUCH MORE TO EXPLORE;

WE’VE BARELY SCRATCHED THE SURFACE!

BUT, BEFORE WE START, HERE’S THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION...

DR. MORELLO

How many voices are in your head?

REMINGTON

Eleven.

DAISY

Holy shit.

JAY

Are you sure you’ve counted right?

REMINGTON

Yeah, I’m fucking sure I’ve counted right after 18 years of counting! What’s so weird about eleven?

JAY

Nothing. You just beat my record of ten.

REMINGTON

SO I GUESS I’M A

DEAD-PERSONS-IN-MY-HEAD PERSON!

I’M GLAD TO BE JOINING THE TEAM.

I’LL TRY TO CALMLY ACCEPT I’M AN ANOMALY

AND NOT FEAR-PUKE OR SCREAM!

I’M READY TO GET STARTED WITH THIS THERAPY!

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

Yeah!

SHE’S A DEAD-PERSONS-IN-HER-HEAD PERSON

JAY

Having eleven isn’t problematic at all!

DAISY

SHUT UP, YOU CUCK!

PETER

IT’S JUST OUR LUCK

THAT YOUR PARENTS GAVE ME THAT CALL

DR. MORELLO/DAISY/JAY

‘CAUSE NOW, YOU’RE HERE WITH US!

ALL

AND WE’RE ALL

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE!

EACH HOUSING A VERY NICE SOUL.

THOUGH WE’VE GOT DIFFERENT NUMBERS,

WE’RE ALL PARTS OF A WHOLE!

DR. MORELLO

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

DR. MORELLO/JAY

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE,

DR. MORELLO/JAY/DAISY

DEAD-PEOPLE-IN-YOUR-HEAD PEOPLE...

REMINGTON

THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN MY HEAD!

DR. MORELLO/JAY/DAISY

OH YES, THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

WHY STRESS? THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

GOD BLESS! THERE’S DEAD PEOPLE IN HER HEAD!

#transcript #px11 #perfect times eleven #Remington long #Rupert morello #jay mazziotta #daisy noxx #episode 1

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 5 years ago

Text

Gone and Left Your World (Venable X Reader (part 4))

I noticed I spelt psychic wrong so many times in the last parts and probably in this too. I apologize for that.

I will name in the series in a week to a month like I am doing with my Cordelia series.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four

Warnings: N/A

You had to pass Coco’s room in order to get to your own. Unfortunately, she happened to be in said room at the time of passing. She wasn’t alone, accompanied by Gallant and Mallory.

“What? I don't want to rub it in for the ones that don't get picked. No offence, Mallory.” They must have been talking about the selection for the sanctuary. Of course, Coco would assume she was getting in, she was a rich (almost) influencer back before the world turned to hell. You don’t know how she could see that as more important than someone who could actually do work like Mallory. Gallant has a better chance of making it than her. Not that you cared. You doubted the girl has done an honest day's labour in her life, she had staff serving her every day of her life.

Mallory didn’t think she would get in. Coco was convinced that the people who were getting in already knew, something about her one-on-one with him being ‘illuminating’.

You didn't like the chances of getting in yourself, threatening the person here to 'save' you wasn't going to save you a spot. He said he liked your mind but nothing much was happening in it, you weren't a scholar, none of you were. He jumped around, knowing things he shouldn't have. You knew he was bad, but this confirmed it, and you threatened him. Shit. You don't even know how powerful he is. You're all alone in this, no one would get you if you explained it to them.

“Wait. Did something weird happen to you, too?”

Wait- You froze in place.

“What are you babbling about? What did he say to you?”

No? She couldn't be- could she?

“It wasn't anything he said. It was uh a feeling,” Mallory’s word caught your interest. You popped your head into the room to watch. The others were too busy to notice your presence. “I think I set the room on fire.”

“What? Like you knocked over a candle or something?”

“No. Like flames shot out of the fireplace and went everywhere. I know this is impossible, but I think I made the fire with my mind.”

Coco scoffed, “Yeah, we're definitely not talking about the same thing.”

Mallory compared herself to a superhero (“…and now I'm like the Dark Phoenix.”). You leant against the wall in the hallway, still listening, waiting for Mallory to leave the room to find out more. The rich snob and her hairdresser took what she said joking. You knew you should have too but with all the strange things you’ve seen and heard, you needed to know more. You couldn't explain away the dreams- visions- whatever they are. You had seen her face, not only her but her annoying boss as well. You didn't feel hate when you saw them, but now, always towards Coco, you couldn't stand her face.

“Come on. Prove it. Make flames shoot out everywhere.” There was some time before anyone spoke. “This is pretty lame, even for you, Mallory. Some people just have nothing special about them, and you have to be okay with that.”

She told her to use her power to shut up and disappear. She needed her costume to be ready for tonight. She recommended for the woman to look for supplies in Evie’s room as she won’t be needing them anymore.

Mallory walked past, bumping into you. She apologised and kept walking, staring down at the ground. Their dickheads sometimes- correction- all the time.

“She's out of her mind,” Gallant said.

“This place is full of looneys, speaking of one, that L/N was eavesdropping. I mean, who can hear the dead? That’s ridiculous.” Coco said. “Do you really think she’s with Venable? It wouldn’t surprise me since the woman has been eye-fucking her since the (hair colour) haired bitch arrived.”

“She’s fucked up enough to be her type. Insane and murderous partners well with-”

You don’t want to hear the rest of the nonsense that could leave their mouths. You chased after Mallory who was heading towards the late Evie’s room. You called after her. She stopped shuffling through the dead woman’s belongings and paid all her attention to you. She said your first name back.

“Did you really mean what you said back in Coco’s room?” You asked. You immediately apologised for eavesdropping, but she cut you off.

“I did, but it’s probably just the place getting to me. It seems ridiculous-”

“You’re talking to the person who’s claimed repeatedly to hear ghosts.” You thought about that for a second. “Forget I said that I just realised how insane that sounds. My point is I believe you.”

“You do?” You pulled her down to sit on the bed so you could talk to her properly.

“A part of me feels like I’ve already met you. Not some past life bullshit but before the apocalypse.” You move a bit away from her and move your attention away from her. “Since I got here, I’ve been having these ‘dreams’ of a life I’ve never had. You and Coco were in one, along with some people I have never met before.” You chuckled, “Coco was nicer. Like really nice, especially to you. I think she admired you. That’s beside the point. I don’t think we’re here by coincidence.”

“What are you saying? That we're not who we think we are?”

“Exactly. You feel it too, I can tell.” Mallory looked unsure. Your meaning resonated with her, but your reasoning was losing her. “Coco’s father bought five tickets,” She went to correct you, but you kept talking. “A mistake was made, and I managed to get it for reasons we aren’t going to discuss. Think the chances of Coco’s family not making it to the plane and the accidental booking was intentional.” You couldn’t tell if she believed you or was just humouring you because you were a higher rank than her. “I have four years of my life missing from my memory. I would never have touched a bottle of alcohol before. Whatever, they are hiding from us, I didn’t cope with well.”

“Y/N, I have to get back to work.”

“-making Coco’s mask, right? I can help-”

“Y/N~”

She was trying to get away from you.

“You think I’m crazy. You’re trying to get away from me.” She said your name again. “No, I get it.” You raised your hands defensively. “You think I’m crazy as well. I thought you were different- I – I should go.” She called you once more. “Someone will answer me.” You were agitated. The candles flickered all around you, Mallory picked up on this. You stormed out of the room; the lights stilled the moment you left. She stuck her head out to see the same effect following you. The lights flickered and then calmed when you were far enough away. Maybe she should believe you.

~~~

No one knew what to do with you. There were only two options, go with the two girls and protect them or stay with Cordelia, Myrtle and Madison. Your powers could be covered by you also being a medium; change a few details and about yourself and your connection to the other two and you were golden. That didn’t solve the fact that your fiancé was running the place. You were adamant that she would kill you on sight while Myrtle (and Cordelia to a lesser extent) believed you’d be fine. The choice was down to you in the end. The path you’d choose. They weren’t going to force you or sway you in a way, but they would make you decide and quick. You had a night to think about it, they needed to send off the other two and couldn’t wait around for you.

Resting on the porch, the moonlight reflected the swamp waters. You sighed, sometime soon all of this would be wiped away and replaced with a dystopian nuclear wasteland.

The light evening breeze will carry radiation. The trees, if they still stand, will be dead, rotting due to the chemicals getting into the soil. With no natural food source people will turn on each other. Cordelia told you about her vision (you were the go-to witch on all things dead), hoping you could help them in some way, but it only scared you.

There’s been too much death for one person to see in one lifetime. There was only more to come, the bombs would go off, people would scream. Everything reminded you of what you saw, you tried to remain strong for your sister witches, but you were tearing at the seams.

All the blood and carnage you had seen. It’s scarred and haunts your very soul. You didn’t want to wait around while more deaths occur. Deaths occur every day, but the knowledge of impending doom made you more aware of the numbers. How would the world end? You assumed in fires; the gates of hell would open unleashing abominations among the living. Beasts once human tearing you from limb to limb, you’d choke on your own blood as they tear into the stomach and slurp your intentions like it was spaghetti. The numbers of fatalities would accumulate, one or two now, thousands later. If you stuck with them, you’d be forced to wait around with the knowledge you couldn’t save everyone. The pile of bodies would rise. The mass death of bodies with the complex relationship you had controlling your power- you couldn’t handle it.

If you just left, you wouldn’t have to make a choice. People are going to die no matter what you do but if you don’t survive the bombs, you’ll never have to worry about that, because you’ll be dead.

All you had to do was get far enough away before they discovered you're gone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You spun around. Thank god, it’s just Madison.

“On a walk-”

“Bullshit, you’re leaving!” Her yelling caught the attention of the two other young witches. They watched on through the window.

“No~ why would you think that?” You were flustered.

“Okay, then. Where you going on your walk?”

“Just around the swamp?”

“At night?”

“Yes.” You dragged this out.

“Leaving the only place that is safe.” The place had been surrounded by a protection spell, one that was completed this time without interruption.

“I need to think.”

“You can do that here.”

“NO, I CAN’T!” The other girl was shocked by your sudden yelling.

“What’s going on out there!” Cordelia asked, bursting through the front door, annoyed the two were causing a stir at ten at night. You gave Madison a look saying, ‘don’t you dare tell her’.

“Y/N’s running off!” You weren’t going to lie anymore. There’s no point in dragging this on.

“Were you?” you didn’t nod, nor did you deny. “WERE YOU Y/N!” You unveiled the beast hidden beneath her soft, loving persona. You betrayed her- or at least that's how she saw it. You were a surprise; she didn’t think you made it and now you were walking away like none of this mattered. You might as well have never shown up at all.

“I’m done with this.” You didn’t get very far before she was holding you back with her magic. She wouldn’t be able to hold you for long without exhausting herself. You could use that to your advantage.

“Why?”

“Why?” you chuckled out. “’Why not?’ is a better question. I’m not contractually obligated to help you out. I have nothing keeping me going.”

This was not your fight. Michael wasn't your problem.

“You have us.” This meant little to you. Yes, they were your friends. Would you die for them? No. You were selfish. You always have been, not in the way everyone thought. You were self-destructive, you fed your own suffering the moment you left your heaven. You’d seen hell and this path led you straight to the devil’s den.

Buy your time Y/N, you thought. Open up a can of worms that will make her beg for you to leave. You heard tales from before you joined the academy, from the days of Madison, Queenie and Zoe (rest in peace). You had learnt what happened to Misty, it had been used as an example (When Cordelia wasn’t around) to teach the girls not to do spells that could potentially harm them without being powerful enough.

To save yourself from reliving the next few moments; the bone-crushing pain as she constricted your body with her powers (intentionally or not you’d never know) and the shrill pain and anger in her voice, that you’d rather forget.

Cordelia told you that they needed you. With the most sinister smile you could muster, you brought up the girl, how if they needed everyone they could get, why didn’t they involve Misty. That’s when the crippling pain started, you fought your ground. She would have to break every bone in order to keep you here and she wouldn’t do that. Cordelia told you because she was never meant to be a part of this, she got the girl killed (blamed herself for getting her stuck in hell etc) and she was trapped in hell. You interrupted, you’re living your personal hell, you never wanted to be able to see and talk to the dead. It’s affected every aspect of your life, and everything would be better if you never had your powers or better yet heard about the stupid school.

“Face it Cordelia, they're dead! They're all dead! And we will be too,” You said. “I won’t be much use with you guys. What you want from me is impossible? Might as well save your breath and let me go.” Her powers on you were dwindling.

“You're more useful than gluten-free detector.” Madison added her two cents.

“Madison-” Cordelia scolded. “Y/n, we need you-”

“I can’t. All I can do is hear the dead.” You looked at them individually, taking in their expressions. “You’ll do fine without me.” After your final word, Cordelia dropped towards the ground feeling faint. Madison caught her before she met the decking. You wanted to rush over and help her, she wanted that. It would get you to stay. You stepped forward but retracted that step. Her eyes lit up for one second seeing she almost had you.

“She will be there.” Her final attempt to get you to stay.

“All the more reason not to help.”

~~~

It was hours before the Masquerade ball Venable and Mead announced for a Halloween to celebrate all they had been through. You had your mask laying out on your bed. You decided to keep it simple, not being much of a party person or wanting to be in the spotlight. You knew Coco was going to be over the top with everything. You felt bad for Mallory who probably had to do most of the prep work helping her get ready for the night of festivities. Then again, she too found to be crazy, maybe she deserved to do the work. No, she’s still a nice person.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts as you were setting up something that would take you time up until the ball. “Who is it?” you yelled. Mallory responded. You sighed, getting up to allow her inside.

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“Something is up with all of this. I shouldn’t have been able to do what I did. The crazy is the only thing making sense nowadays.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping Coco?” this came out more condescending then you meant it to.

“I needed to clear the air with you. Did you learn anything since we last talked?”

“No, but I jotted down everything I could remember from my little ‘visions’ and came up with every possible scenario I could think off.” She nodded her head and looked at the notebook you passed her. “This might seem ridiculous- “

“-what part of this isn’t.” You chuckled at her interruption.

“Could we be witches?”

She nodded, “Yes, ridiculous.” You backed up your claim, you had heard it mentioned a few times in your dreams, here were a ton of witchcraft books in the library and powers. It made sense. “Why are we here then? What are we meant to do?”

“Isn’t it obvious- stop Langdon.” You held another book in your hands, you had read it over ten times. You knew it was important, but you couldn’t comprehend why. “We all have our parts to play Y/N. She has hers, you have yours.” You murmured under your breath. She asked you what you meant by that. “It was something I heard a vision/dream thing. A woman was trying to get me to do something, bring back her friends or something and I couldn’t.”

“Revive them?”

“More. Their souls had been erased by him- H-how do I know that? That wasn’t explained. Nevertheless, an impossible feat. Billie told me so herself but claimed if anyone could do it, it was me- WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS COMING FROM?”

You heard Coco calling out Mallory’s name. She stiffened. She was getting ready to leave when you grabbed her arm. “No, you can’t leave. I’m making progress.” She went to say something, “If she can’t find you, it’s her fault. You aren’t her personal assistant anymore. I can get you out of it if you get into any trouble.”

There was another knock on your door. You recognised the knocking pattern easily. You told Mallory to hide in the closet and not make a sound. You would tell her when it was safe come out.

Venable came into your room to tell you about tomorrow night. She knocked on the door and waited for you to response. You yelled you were getting changed as you hid all the belongings scattered about your room as well as making sure Mallory was well hidden.

You allowed Venable to enter. Once the door was shut and locked behind her. She pulled up a chair to face you where you sat on your bed.

“Mina, what are you doing here?” you asked, knowing full well you were going have to explain this later to the person hiding in your cupboard.

“It’s about the party tonight. I don’t want you to come. I need you to hide away until I come looking for you okay?”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing my darling. I’ll explain it all later.”

She knew you would disapprove and try and convince her out of it. If you didn’t know you couldn’t do much to stop her. All she wanted to do was keep you safe. She hadn’t told Mead about you and her yet, she was saving that until after the deed was done.

“Alright, love.”

“Stay safe, baby girl.” She placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

You told Mallory it was safe to come out. She gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything. You would have threatened her to keep her mouth shut but you had a feeling by the end of the night there would be no one to tell.

“You’re staying with me,” you commanded. She went to voice her concerns, but you weren’t having them. “That’s a direct order.” You never ordered the greys around more than you had to, and, in this situation, she was better off with you than the others. You knew you were sentencing the others to death but if you saved them than you were only risking yourself.

“What about Coco and the others?”

“We don’t know what she’s going to do but for humanity or what’s left of it, it’s best if we stay out of the way.” You said, not pleased with what you were saying. “Anyway, I need your help. If we have any time left, we’ll save them.”

You sat on your bed, a book on your lap. You set an hourglass ready to be flipped for a timer. “How do we know this is going to work?” Mallory asked. You didn’t, your running on gut instinct. With chances of death, you shouldn’t be taking this lightly. On the outside, you were calm and collected (better described as a reckless moron), you had to try to keep your hands from trembling. The books page stained from when your sweaty fingers touched the page. Everything will be fine. OR YOUR GOING TO FUCKING DIE. No. Maybe. You’re not a psychic- oh wait.

“This is going to be dangerous.” For you, not her. You didn’t clarify. She didn’t ask.

The book was full of ancient spells lost to time. That’s dramatic but there weren’t for beginners-hell the front advises you not to do this unless you’re a level three witch/warlock and specialise in said field. The book contained parts of all branches of witchcraft; from spellcraft to ‘green magic’ (botany. There was something for every purpose. There was one for time travel, that’s weird. One thing they all have in common is they can all cause death if done incorrectly. Good thing you’re a well-trained magic-user. Yeah, even sarcasm isn’t going to save your arse.

From what you read this was an alternated version of Descensum. There was no guarantee you would be able to remember who or why you were there. This changed version was meant to help you remember that your mission and keep you on path. It was also supposedly meant to slow down the time you could stay there, time worked differently in the netherworld, five minutes hopefully won't be an hour on the land of the living. You only had an hour so you need all the time you could get.

"I don’t know if this alteration will help me, it has never been tested with success.”

“Wait- what?”

“That’s why you’re here. I need you to try and wake me when the timer is close to running out.”

“What happened when it runs out?”

“Who knows,” you said way too cheerily.

You laid down, waiting for Mallory to get ready to flip the hourglass before chanting the phrase.

You jolted awake in a dark room. Sounds of yelling penetrated through the walls vibrated through the air around you. The room lacked personal items, only containing a dull bed and dresser. Your parent’s friends were over again. You hated the lot of them when they hung out. Your parents, much like the rest of your family had no restraint when it came to drinking. Best to stay away, you noted. You usually slipped out your window for a couple hours, riding your bike to the nearest library to study. You tugged at the window but it wouldn’t open, bolted shut. Shit. You opened your bedroom door and entered the hallway. Aspects of it were off but it had been years since you had been in your childhood home. The walls were pixelated, that statically effect you get naturally when looking at something but enhanced by ten percent. The doors were in all the wrong places and the pictures were all scribbled over. The images from throughout your life, not only your childhood.

“What’s going on?” You asked, hoping someone would answer you. No one was at home. This wasn’t your home. It was two unfamiliar. Someone had corrupted your parent’s house.

It’s wrong.

Everything’s wrong.

The details of your first home rearranged causing a disorientating experience. You couldn't remember what details were right, the place was messing with you. Where were you? Which house were you in? You caught a glance of yourself in a golden framed mirror you swore was the same one you had at your house with Mina. You were dressed like a kid playing dress-ups. Nothing went to together, styles clashed, the only common theme is that you had rocked the styles individually in the past.

You felt eyes watching you. You had no time to think about that right now, you had to make sense of surroundings. Or maybe you didn't?

This was your hell, utter confusion. It kicked up your new(ish) found identify complex to the max. Behind you a shadowy figure loamed but when you spun around, he was gone.

You were here for a reason, get on with it. You’re in hell. This wasn’t that bad, disorientating yes but the self-awareness of being here ruins any terror. What was your hell meant to be? They couldn’t even decide on one thing for you.

You had to find that figure, they would know how to help you. There was a door where the being stood. The door was black with a golden handle. It was your best guess on getting out of there. It led to a long corridor; it was dead silent. Protected from the horrors behind the doors. The walls were grey with a glossy finish allowing to see yourself. Yellow fluorescent lights hung above you, each perfectly spaced apart from the last. All parallel.

Were any of these people erased? Michael couldn’t have gotten rid of this many people, could he? None knew you. Each time you opened a door you expected for someone to call your name, surprised by your presence. No, something was wrong?

“Where am I?” You yelled at the ceiling. “Where did you send me?”

You couldn’t keep testing doors in an endless hallway. One more and you’re done. You opened the door to see Mead? Unlike the rest of the people, she seemed to be enjoying her torment. You entered the room keeping a distance from the woman. You didn’t know she died.

She noticed your presence immediately. From what you gathered, this place was meant to be some sort of hell, but she didn’t appear to be in pain. This room was wrong. Maybe it was a clue?

“Who are you?” she asked, her words filled with hate. She could tell you weren’t meant to be here; you weren’t one of the usual demons.

“You don’t know who I am? Interesting.” You treated her like eighth grader’s science experiment. “Don’t worry, I’m just a worker. Just making sure your stay is as terrible as possible.”

“Dressed in Victorian wear?”

“Yes.”

You scooped out the room, something had to be off. How did she not know you? You noticed a crack between the wall and the floor, a white glow came from between the crack. Was there another floor? If there was another floor, they were stairs. You exited the room, to see if the cracks continued. They did. You followed the way. You felt your body being shoved, no! you're so close. You were going to do this if it’s the last thing you do.

If they weren't going to come to you, you could come to them. Whether it be because you were trashing the place or because you found out where they had been hiding.

“The floor has to go.” You stomped, attacked and tore at the floor hoping it would give saw. You were forced to duck into a room and grab the nearest sharp object. You opened the black door and you were greeted with a peaceful cabin in the woods. It recked of wild animals. You scanned around looking for something strong enough to make some damage.

You ran into the room, flipping everything in your way for something to destroy the place.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” A woman’s voice broke through the ruckus you were creating. You looked over at the woman, an elder blonde lady who looked to dressed up to be in a place like this stared at you, a glass in her hand.

“You the room’s owner?” The woman nodded. You could have sworn you had seen someone like her before, in a photo or painting somewhere. You shook your head. “I don’t have time for this, the world depends on me. Do you have anything that can smash through the floor or make any damage whatsoever?” You didn't care at this point. Maybe you should just release everyone, that would work too.

The woman scoffed; she took a sip of her drink, “The world wouldn’t depend on a Victorian lady. The worlds moved on since then.”

“You’re the dead one bitch,” She looked at you confused for a second. Then it clicked you weren’t an ordinary human.

“You’re not human?”

“Psychic.”

“Psychics can’t travel between life and death. You’d have to be something else as well.”

“I only got an hour for this, so can you please tell me if I’m wasting my time here or not.” She turned to face you completely.

“There’s an axe in the room to your right.” You ran back to the door.

"What year are you from?"

You went to the room and there was, in fact, an axe. You cheered. "2021, I think. It's hard to tell nowadays. You know end times and all." She didn't know what you were one about. She must have died before then. “To keep it quick, the apocalypse happened. Humanities down to one outpost run by my kind of ex- long story- anyway a man, the anti-christ has come to ‘rebuild the world’ and we need to stop him. Problem is, other than where in his father’s domain, he is super powerful. To my knowledge, only three women are left. Two if I die here.”

“Witch?”

“My life’s a long story-” You said swinging the door opened. "You like causing chaos?"

She perked up.

Was it a smart idea taking someone out of their hell for your own benefit? No. Do you care? No. You scrapped your idea of finding them, the place was infinite. You had to bring them to you. You told her to let as many people out as possible, get them to cause a riot, whatever, just make it big. You wanted to be heard.

It only took a couple of minutes to turn the place into a madhouse.

You felt your body being shoved again. You clenched your heart. You need more time. “You don’t happen to know any of the demons or spirits or whatever working here, one I could make a deal with.” You asked the woman.

She gave you one, the name of a Voodoo Loa she had made an offer to back when she was alive. You were expecting the name of an old god, maybe a Greek god or something but anyone would do. You had heard of his name before, Papa Legba, the gatekeeper of the spirit world. If anyone knew anything, he was your best bet, if he couldn’t help you, he might know who. You were prepared to make any deal you had to rid the earth of that man.

You gasped for air, chest heaving as you tried to get in as much air as humanly possible. Your need to breath distracting you by your near success. You’d almost done in, that mysterious blonde lady in your dreams would have been proud of you, but you were cut short. You had so little time. You had to go back there. You needed air.

You didn't recognise you were back until Mallory scrambled to your side, checking to make sure you were fine. You pushed her away the moment you got your breath back. “How did it go? what happened?” Mallory asked.

“I found out about someone who might be able to help but I didn’t get enough time to find him” You stared into thin air. “I need to go back, seal the deal.”

“You cut it close this time, what if I can’t wake you up next-”

You noticed mist wafted around the room’s floor. The shadowy figure from before took a seat on the armchair in the corner of your room. His eyes were red, and he wore greyish-white face paint in the shape of a skull matching by a hat with small skulls around it, decorated with various bird feathers. You were confused about why he was there, you hadn’t petitioned for his presence, formality hadn’t been your strong suit in years.

He had come out of his own accord, not for yours. Word had gotten out that you were causing trouble hell. Letting people go, interfering with other people’s hells as well as making it difficult to decipher what your personal hell was.

“The spirit witch, I heard about you.” The spirit said. “Was expecting you to visit sooner”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble, in your short time down there.”

“Plenty more of that where it came from unless I get what I want?”

He already knew what you wanted, “What you want is near impossible.”

“‘Near’, I like my chances.”

“You sure about that?”

Positive. If there is any way, you have to tell me.

“I don’t have to do anything.” He wanted something out of it.

“But you know something?”

I might. What is your offer?

“I don’t know what needs to be done so how can I make a good offer.”

“I can get you back the souls, but it will get me in trouble with the others.”

“I don’t just want their souls. I want them back.”

“That will cost you more.”

“Uh, the antichrist.”

“The antichrist?”

“Yes, he’s on earth. You can have him.”

“How are you going to get him to me?”

“We’re going to kill him. But I need the girls to do so.”

“The process is difficult.”

“You want more?!”

You looked over to Mallory, who shrugged. She didn’t know how to deal with spirits. Neither of you knew of something you could offer to seal the deal.

“A soul for a soul.” You’d have to give him many souls in order to get all your girls back and living.

“If I give you two souls, I get two girls back in the living” He nodded. “What about the others?”

“Whatever I see fit.” He’ll probably keep them. He had a thing for keeping souls.

Who else could you offer up? Then it hit you, “You can have me.”

“Y/N, no!”

“By the end of the day, you can have me in exchange.”

He hummed. “Deal.”

With that he was gone. Mallory looked mad at you. “You don’t know what your doing is even the best thing to go and you gave yourself away. All for some random woman in a dream that might not even be real.”

“Yep. Don’t tell Venable.”

Neither of you knew what or who to suspect, all you hoped is you got the right two girls. To be fair, you didn’t know how to girls could help you save the world, but you guessed there was strength in numbers. Their value better be worth your soul. You had no idea what was waiting for you in the sp. You promised he could have your soul (and in turn do what he wished with it) but you never promised to behave.

“You shouldn’t have given up yourself,” Mallory scolded you for the fifth time since he left. It was a waiting game now, you were told to wait behind by Venable, you didn’t know how to tell her that sold your soul away. You hoped you wouldn’t have to, maybe you could kill him and in turn yourself before she found out.

Two voices brought your attention towards a pair of young women about Mallory’s age.

“Y/N? Mallory?” they both said.

“How do they know who I am?” You shrugged in response to Mallory’s question. The two looked at Mallory confused by the words that left her mouth.

“Where are we?” One asked.

“Outpost three. The world ended, she saved you.”

You nodded, while still trying to catch your breath. The two saw all the spell things set up as well as the hourglass. They had their suspicions on what one of you did. From looking at it, it was you. From there knowledge you couldn’t do control your natural powers let alone do Descensum. The unfamiliar scenery along with you and Mallory’s strange attire told them they weren’t at the academy anymore. They remembered what happened. They had died but it didn’t feel like death. It felt like they were ripped out of the time they were in and shoved in the room they were now. There clothes stained with the blood but no wounds.

Mallory filled them in on how the world had turned into a toxic wasteland. How you two had been sent her due to your boss’ family not being able to make it before the world ended. She admitted to not knowing who either girl was. One of them muttered about Cordelia probably doing a memory spell. You knew that name, Cordelia. You had heard it so many times. You reacted to the name.

“You mean that nice blonde lady who was a- I don’t remember the word,” You asked.

“Supreme?”

“Bingo.”

“How did you save us if you can’t remember who we are?”

“That woman- Cordelia, she told me so many times that I needed to find a way to save the girls. Mainly you two. It must have stuck with me after all these years.” Mallory went to say something, you feared about the price you had to pay so you decided to cut her off. “All other details are irrelevant now and won’t help us. So, tell us, what makes you two so important?”

“Nothing much, Mallory’s more important than us.” Mallory cocked her head. “We’re the teachers of the school along with being a part of the witch’s council.”

“How am I important?”

“You’re the next supreme,” Queenie said. She had to tell her what the supreme was. Mallory thought that was a mistake, claiming that you had shown more power than her, the only thing she had down was cause fires to spit out everywhere.

The two needed to figure out why neither of you could remember. What had Cordelia done to seal your safety?

Venable stood on the balcony overlooking all the festivities. All the men and women were cheering and applauding as they took turns bobbing for apples.

“Let's all wait until each person has had an opportunity to participate in tonight's activities. Then we will feast together like civilized beings,” Venable said as the first person to get an apple went to take a bite.

“I can't find The Fist, Y/N, Coco or Mallory anywhere and Mr.

Langdon has declined our invitation,” Mead informed Venable. “We got to put the brakes on. Stop it now. No witnesses.”

“It's too late for that.” Venable turned to face her partner in crime, a delicious grin on her face. “Once they've had their fun, we'll bring the festivities and your gun to him.”

Venable went back to observing the party. Emily missed her apple, she chuckled while saying, “Oh, I suck at this game.” Timothy offered to share with her. Venable grimaced.

Apples willed with snakes’ venom. Once eaten the venom enters the bloodstream through their digestive tract. Immediate breakdown of their nervous systems and the lining of their stomachs. With none of them knowing that the deed had been done, there was no way of slowing the process and with no doctors or medicine, they were done for. A perfect crime. Near perfect if they could have gotten everyone. “It won't be pretty,” Mead described it.

Venable held the fruit in her hands, raised so they all could see it as she thanked The Cooperative for the blessed fruit, they have bestowed upon them.

The world had turned full circle. The original sin, an apple taken from the tree of knowledge. Humans developed away from the eye of God, who needed god when you had free will. Greed and hate-fuelled his people. In the end, all the progress humans had made will end the same way, by partaking in the forbidden fruit.

The final sin by modern man.

Thou shalt not kill

“It is time to enjoy our good fortune. You have your treat.”

Everyone takes a bite of their apples. They began to retch then cough. Blood came out. Dead occupants scattered all over the music room.

“Now, that went off rather well, don't you think? Little messier then I would have hoped.”

“Least we don't have to worry about cleaning up. We shouldn't keep Mr Langdon waiting.”

“Ladies, I'm a little busy right now formulating my selections.

“This won't take long.”

“What's this?”

“We're making the selections now, Mr.

Langdon.”

“And I'm afraid you didn't make the cut.”

“I'm sorry.” Langdon laughed. “I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn't hold it in.”

“You think this is funny?”

“I think I'm impressed, Ms Venable. I wasn't sure you had it in you. You've passed the test. You're perfect for The Sanctuary.”

“Ms Mead.”

I wouldn't do that.

“Ms Mead.”

The bullet went straight through her. Venable gasped. As the blood seeped out, through all her shock of being betrayed by the person whom she believed was her friend, she remained composed. All she could think about as she laid on the ground where she fell was how she had failed you.

“I don't know why I did that. I was always loyal to her.” Ms Mead rushed out.

“It's all right. You were obeying commands like you're programmed to do. My commands,” Michael comforted. He leant over her fallen body, “You could’ve been a good subject in the new world. Oh well, another lot of wasted protentional.” He crutched down, getting closer to her face, “what did you do with the medium? You wouldn’t have sent her to her death, where did you hide her?” Venable stared daggers at the man.

“The girl is still alive?” She was confused about what girl. Venable never spoke of you to her.

“Her lover. Venable would have hidden her before setting up the masquerade,” He filled Mead in. “Tell me where she is, and I will save you.”

“Over my dead body,” Venable chocked out.

“So be it.”

“She won’t be getting far. Once she finds out about her lover, she’ll be back.”

“How can you guarantee that?” Besides the fact that he was the antichrist.

“She’s weak. She’ll be begging for us to bring her back.” He counted on that.

You all heard the gunshot from your bedroom. Zoe and Queenie was more alarmed than you and Mallory. You both knew the leader of the outpost was up to something but didn’t know the logistics.

“Venable?” Mallory asked.

“Probably,” you responded back. You needed to come up with a game plan and quick. “It’s the safest for me to go out because of my ‘relations’ to the leader. Mallory kept with those two while I get the location and status of Langdon.”

“Michael Langdon’s here?” After hearing that, they didn’t like the idea of you going out. You were the weakest of the four back in the day, but with the Mallory, under a memory spell (and in turn making her unsure of herself) the ranks were all over the place. “Don’t wait up for me. Find Coco and stay safe.”

You scrambled around your room looking for your trusty switchblade you had since before the apocalypse before you dashed out of your room and went scoped out the environment. The candlelit place wasn’t helping your nerves. It made the place feel like a horror film.

She should have been back by now. You made your way towards the gunshot. Michael’s room. Two figures were leaving. One was Mead, the other wasn’t your girlfriend. Oh, God. What had she done?

They turned your way and approached. “Do you want me to kill her?” Mead asked. He moved the hand with a gun in it down so nuzzle pointed the ground. He saw you as no harm to them. You were full of empty threats.

“Ms L/N, the woman I wanted to see,” Michael said. “The last human resident of outpost three. You should be congratulated.”

“Something tells me that’s not why you wanted to see me.”

“I’m offering you a spot as my faithful servant, a spot in The Sanctuary in other words.”

You raised your brow, “What do I get out of it?”

“Whatever your heart desires,” He responded. You wondered why you? As if he could read your mind he said, “Your abilities would be incredibly useful in the new age. You would be access to some of the greatest minds in history. Nothing could stop us Y/N.” He offered out his hand to take it. You stand there motionless. No intent of moving closer or further. “Take your time, I have all day.” Again, you don’t move. “You might like to take a look in my room before you make your decision.”

You rushed past them, brushing shoulders with Michael. He was sure that when you saw the state of her, you would beg him to bring her back and in doing so have to join the ‘dark’ side.

Her body laid in a pool of her own blood. You gasped before dashing to her side. You checked for a pulse. Her skin was growing colder by the second. Please be alive. No beating. You leant down to see if she was breathing. Nothing. This had to be a sick dream. You would wake up in her arms and she would console you. She would pull you into her chest and run her hand through your hair until you fall back to sleep. She would be there when you needed her, and you would do the same for her. You only got her back, she had to be alive. She had to be.

Something was different in the air. Something was stronger. The air has been disrupted.

How could he ask you to join him after he did this to your beloved?

You hunched over, curling into her lifeless body. Your tears mixing with her crimson blood. “Baby, wake up,” you sobbed. “I need you. You can’t leave me.” You kiss her body as if your touch could bring her back to you. She just needed to know you were here and she’ll come back, you thought. You wouldn’t give up. Any idea was better than not trying.

You pushed down on her chest, wincing as you heard a few cracks. You gave her the air from your lungs then went back to pushing down. Repeat. After three tries you stopped. “I’m sorry, I was never good enough for you. You deserved the world and instead, you got me.” You leant down, resting your forehead against hers, shutting your eyes. “I ruined the last few years of your life and I couldn’t even tell you why. You were my everything. I should have treated you better. I hope your happy, wherever you are.” You exhaled.

A hand touched your face, cupping itself on your cheek. “Babygirl.” Your brain didn’t recognise the touch in your distraught state. Her hands weren’t warm but ice cold, ghostly even. Her thumb wiped away the tears. All you could think about was how she was gone. Her words, her nickname for you, was just her ghost reaching out to you, you were sure of it. That’s the problem with seeing the dead, they haunt you. Maybe it was for the best, it would give you a chance to say goodbye.

“I’m so sorry, I should of-” You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to see her as she once was, someone (even though it may seem sick) you preferred to see her as how she died. It made the process easier to hate yourself for what you had done to her.

“Shh~” Her voice cooed. “Baby, can you look at me?” You shook your head. “Please?” You couldn’t say no to her. Slowly you opened your eye. You gasped. She was alive, beneath you, but how? “That’s better.”

“H-How?” Mina had no clue. You offered to help her up. One hand grabbed her shoulder, the other held her side. You felt her ribs move as you helped her up. Shit, you remembered, you broke her when you tried to give her CPR. “I think I broke a few of your ribs”

“I can’t feel them, or my back- my back pain is gone.” She went wide eye. An astonished look on her face.

You share the same look, bubbling with excitement. “That amaz-ing,” a sudden pain shot through your head. A slipping migraine causing you to launch away from your girl and rest the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop the pain. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH~” you screamed.

“Baby?” looked over worriedly at you.

Migraines weren’t uncommon during your time at the outpost, but they were never this extreme or sudden. Your brain was like being stabbed by a blunt screwdriver repeatedly.

“SSSSTTTOOOOOPP~” You hand formed a fist and was drawn away from your forehead only to snap back like a rubber band. Mina caught it before you could unconsciously slam your fist into your head. It wouldn’t silence your mind or stop the pain. “IIIITTTTT HHUUUUURRRRTTTTSSSS~”

~~~

You ended up helping in the end. Some god must have planned it out because you had made it all too easy to for The Cooperative to find you. In the final two years, you gave it you're all in acting, using your magic only helped you so far. You convinced yourself in order to succeed, you needed to forget. Forget the witches, forget the old life, forget it all. Your last magic-related task, using your limited memory of your botany classes, you mixed up a fine powered to help you forget.

The hotel was cold next morning. You were tripping heavily but you never felt better. You didn’t know your name or where you were. You didn’t care. Life was blissful. The worry set in a couple weeks later reflects around you rejigged your memories. Some bitchy blonde came to your hotel room, complaining about how you were stupid and the supreme had sent her to get you. Supreme? You think you ordered a supreme pizza, was she the pizza lady?

“You’re too pretty to be the pizza lady.”

“What? Were you listening to me? Cor-”

“I don’t care what Cornelius wants unless it’s my pizza, then he can’t have it.”

“Who the fuck is Cornelius?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one talking about him.” You said to the younger woman. “And tell Samantha she can’t get with me. This pussy ain’t free real estate.” You shake your fist to the ceiling

“I was sent here to pick up an alcoholic, you're somehow more annoying drunk or maybe it’s because I’m sober”

“I know you can hear me, whore,” you said this as the ‘pizza lady’ spoke. “I’m high, not drunk- Wait, shit, are you with the cops?”

“Why couldn’t she have sent Myrtle?” the woman whined.

“Snow.”

“YES! THANK GOD- What are you doing?”

You were beside the window, pointing and laughing.

“It's snowing!” You were giddy at the sight of white flakes falling from the sky. The biggest smile on your face. The other woman had never seen you so happy, you weren’t aware that she knew you. You had almost forgotten she was there.

“We need you to do a seance,” the woman said to you.

“I don’t like salad.” The woman inhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. You were testing her patience. “But if it comes with the pizza, I don’t mind.”

“Seance, we want to talk to the dead.”

“Bread sounds good too, oh~ I get it now, your room service.”

The woman grumbled something about not wanting to have to pick you up as she pulled out her phone and dialled a number.

“Madison?” The voice said through the speaker. You eyed the little box in this ‘Madison’s hands’.

“I found her, but she’s doped up on drugs.” There was mumbling in the background.

“y/n,” the voice through the speaker said. The voice, a woman, explained what Madison was trying to. She took her time, knowing you were under the influence of something.

“Need me to talk to the dead? Get somebody else! Maybe that craigslist medium that was too much of bitch to love me! Uh~ the sex was great though. I think she’s famous now. Maybe if I sleep with her again, I’ll might make the tabloids.”

“She’s bad shit crazy,” Madison said.

You groaned, rubbing your head. “Fuck, I didn’t take enough.” You walked over to your coffee table covered in bits and bobs. Madison followed you asking what you didn’t have enough of. She noticed some of the items could be used for a spell. You pulled out a zip lock bag with a greenish-brown powder. You sprinkled it into your cup of red wine. “What’s in the bag?” she asked.

“None of your concern Madison,” You went to take a sip when you caught sight of her shocked expression. Her lips remained on the glass. “What?” You put your glass down on the table. “Wait, how did you find me?”

“Madison, you still there?” Cordelia’s voice from the phone’s speaker.

“Cordelia?” You said confused. You were in a hotel, your hotel room. Wait, why were you in a hotel room? You looked back at your drink. Red, a colour that seemed to follow wherever you went. You picked up the glass, swirling it around mixing the powder further into the drink.

“You remember?”

“Hmm~” You weren’t happy about it.

“We found a book that we think would help with what Cordelia wanted you-”

“I don’t care what she wanted me to do,” You said standing up and getting into her face. You leaned over her. You took a small sip of your drink before heading to the window, gazing down onto the city below. “If she’s really powerful enough, she can do it herself.” Another sip. “I was happy before I met you all. You all wanted my story, well here it is, so listen up bitches.” You gave a summary of your life, speaking loud enough so the phone could pick up your voice. Every so often taking a sip of your drink. “I never should have joined you. You’re going to leave me and let the bombs do their jobs.” You chugged the rest of your spiked drink. “I always hated the colour red. Reminds me of all the worst things; blood, danger, love. Purple was always my favourite, especially lilac. Only one thing has matched the colours so well and now it’s gone from me.” Your tone grew angrier by the second. “Soon, I won’t remember who you are, or who I am and you sure as hell better get out before then or you won’t have to wait for the apocalypse because I will bring it to you.”

~~~

“NOOOOOOO~ I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER!” So much blood and carnage. Everything was stained in a coat of crimson red. So many people you couldn’t save, so many women and men killed by that man- if you could even call him that.

You weren’t alone anymore but surrounded by the souls of many.

Were you in your own body? You felt air-light among them. Your body was hunched in the same pain-stricken position you were moments before. An out-of-body experience, that’s it.

“Y/N,” a voice called for your attention. Your head darted in the direction of a woman. A friend? Mallory. Alongside her was Coco, the two weren’t dressed in the Victorian clothes you expected them to be in, it resembled the ones they wore in your dreams. Behind them was a crowd of men in school uniforms, sounding you in a circle. Other familiar faced were there too, all the fallen residents were there, lost in the crowd.

The woman grew closer, getting down to your level to speak to you.

“You’re dead?” You asked her, briefly looking over to Coco. You half expected a snarky comment from her to confirm your suspicion.

“We need you to stop Michael.”

“Already planned on that.”

“You won’t be able to do that if you don’t allow yourself to remember-”

“Who says that, because you saw what I did earlier.”

“That wasn’t me persa-”

“Cordelia put us under an identity spell,” Coco looked over to Mallory. “What? We might as well tell her now,” she whined.

“Was I?”

They shrugged. They informed you that their bodies where dead and that you would have to revive them in order to stop Langdon. Once awake they would continue to live as their false identities until the spell was lifted. You asked how that had anything to do with you allowing yourself to relive the forgotten years. It had everything to do with it. All of you had to be at your apex and you couldn’t do that if you’re where holding yourself back. Emotions control your powers and though a highly emotional people tend to be reckless, their power can is at their best if controlled well enough. They believed in you. That was a dangerous thing.

The stinging came back in slow bursts. Your body weighed down. Deep breath in and out.

Maybe you should stop fighting against it.

In and out.

This was it.

The end of days.

In the final hour, who will fall?

You had to lose the fight to with the war. Your blurred vision steadied on a cane long forgotten by its owner. Your arms restrained by a tight grip. They loosen as you seem to intense and less hostile. The power you sensed before; you knew what it was for sure now.

That man was going to pay for what he has done.

“They’re here,” you muttered as you stood up, wobbling due to being lightheaded. You found Venable’s cane and hand it to her. Helping her up.

“Who? Michael?” She bombarded you with questions which you left unanswered.

You were sure of yourself. Something you hadn't been in years. The merge of your forgotten self and the time since then elevated your knowledge of magic. You thanked yourself for your introvert bookworm traits through the past year and a half.

You used a power you developed late into your stay at the shack. You counted the living presences you sensed. One… Two. You knew who they belonged to. You sensed a third soon after, Michael.

"Wilhemina, odd question but is Ms Mead alive?" You saw her walk out of the room with Michael, but she was also in hell. She couldn't do both -unless she was killed and brought back. He was capable of resurrection.

"That's a difficult question. If you mean like how we are no, she's a robot."

"No spirit then, good to know," You muttered to yourself. “We need to find Coco and Mallory,”

“Why? What reason would you need those two?”

Four... five. The other two must have found them.

Six? Someone different to the others, no power about them. They recked of death but were hanging on.

“Are there still guards scoping outside the place?”

“No, they’re dead.” You turned to her and pulled a face, a mix between confused by her actions and disgusted. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Seven…Eight...nine. Everyone’s arrived. Ten? Who was that? Stevens. The number increased but dropped soon after. What was going on?

You left the room heading the same way as Michael and Mead went. Venable followed behind keeping a good pace. You both heard voices on your way to wherever everyone else was. Mina asked who the other voices were. You remained quiet. You reached the stairs main stairs when you saw Michael plummeted to the ground. Mead’s robotic body laid on the ground, her head was nowhere to be seen. You stepped over the body and watched the chaos.

“Who the hell are these people?” Mina asked you. She stood beside you to your right.

“Witches,” You responded. There was one person you didn't know but from the looks of it she was on your side.

“There you are Y/N, we weren’t sure if you were going to show up.” Last time you made it clear you wanted no part of any of this, how far you had come. You'd given yourself away for the cause. Crap, you had forgotten about that. You prayed Mallory hadn't told the others yet.

“We worried when we couldn’t find you,” Zoe said.

“You know these people?” Venable asked.

Michael looked up at the women on the stairs. “H-How? I killed-”

“YOU KILLED MY FIANCE? I WILL DESTROY YOU!” You went to dismember the man, but someone held you back. You looked at her questioning what she was doing when she gestured to the blonde with mead’s handgun, Madison. She was telling you that they could take care of it. She didn’t want you getting hurt in a fit of rage.

“We need to find a tub,” Cordelia said looking between the residents of outpost 3.

“Mina, where’s the closest bathroom with a bath?”

“The grey’s communal one in the west wing.” The one near the swirly stairs.

“Follow us!” you waved them to follow you, then dashed in that direction.

Mallory and Cordelia ended up leading the way as Mallory knew the way. You stuck by Mina’s side as you all ran. Coco was beside you trying to keep up in her over the top Victorian attire.

“It’s good to see you happy even if it’s the end of the end,” Coco said.

“Thanks Coco, it’s good that you’re not like Madison anymore.”

“It was a living hell. How can someone be that mean?” her eyes fell to Venable’s. “Uh~”

“Keep your eye’s forward Ms Vanderbilt,” Venable commanded.

“Still scary.” You chucked at her response.

You heard screams from ahead. Oh no, what happened? Something ignited and fell over the railing. Ten. Someone’s gone. Nine. The mystery being was gone.

“What happened?” Coco asked.

You looked over the oldest witches. You saw the blood seeping out from her head. No. OH GOD.

You became woozy at the sight. The chuckles and screams of girls filled your ears. Your sight goes warped. Eight. Bodies everywhere. How did she think this would make things easier?

“Come on, stay with me Mallory,” Cordelia said in-between trying to save her with Vitalum Vitalis. She couldn’t do it; her powers had dwindled for too long. No one else could do it, Madison and Zoe (Queenie was going to stay too, but it was insisted that she should go with them in case he got past them. Her powers could come into better play than theirs) had stayed down to stop Michael. Everyone else couldn’t except-

“Y/N.” Michael said he had killed your fiancée which means someone had to bring her back. You were the only one around. You were pale white. “Y/N?”

"Hmm~ uh- their gone," You slurred out, your eyes couldn't focus on one thing. You were about to warn them you didn't feel good when you fainted.

You felt someone shaking you awake. "Y/N" you moaned, not wanting to be woken up. Venable's voice was guiding you out of your drowsiness.

You roll over your feet falling off something. You help, jolting upright to grab your leg. A wave of dizziness rushes over you but before you could fall back you were caught by your love.

"Mina?"

"Yes, my love?"

Rushing water could be heard from behind you. Coco was trying to fill up the tub for Mallory as Cordelia tried to save the girl.

"Mallory!" Mina hushed you. Your little calling caught the attention of your Supreme. She hadn't noticed you were awake; she was too busy trying to keep the younger witch in her arms alive.

You tried to scramble over to the younger witch, but Mina held you back. With puppy dog eyes and the cutest pout, you could do, you convinced her to move you closer.

You took Mallory from Cordelia, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. You looked at Cordelia unsure if yourself. Mallory was alive, if barely. Leaning down you blew, transferring some of your life essential into her. She gasped, choking on the blood that dripped into her mouth.

"I'm sorry," you apologized to Mallory. Then you turned to the others and did the same. No one knew what you were on about. You had saved Mallory and in turn helped save the world. You turned to Cordelia, "I'm sorry I was never a good student, I was always absorbed in my thoughts. When you needed me, I ran out, something I had come to accustom to doing." You looked at Mina for a second. “I doubted myself and to be honest you, but I thank you for everything you have taught me."

"You were never a bad student," Cordelia said. "You've come a long way from when you joined us. You brought back two of my girls-"

"Yeah~" you dragged the word out. She knew instantly you did something bad. She went to question it, but you kept on apologising but this time to your fiancé.

"Mina, I ditched you to go to a school full of witches. I should have trusted you with that information, but I was scared and naive. I didn't stop thinking about you for a single second I was there-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You deserve to know-"

"She sold her soul."

"WHAT?" Everyone other than Mallory and you said.

"WHY?"

"WE WERE RUNNING OUT OF TIME."

"THAT'S NO REASON TO-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THIS TALK NOW! YOU WANTED YOUR GIRLS, YOU GOT THEM!"

“Y/N-”

You pulled yourself upright, using the tub to steady yourself, “NO! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. IT’S ALREADY BEEN DONE. DEAL WITH IT.” You didn’t know what a good scolding you would know. You did this for them, not yourself. You think you want to sentence yourself to hell. If they fail, you not only get your soul taken but you break a deal. You couldn’t comprehend the horrors of not completing a deal.

You tried, again and again, to get things right, only to fail every time. You were a runner, not a fighter, this was your chance to fight. Fitting that it will also be the thing that would kill you, you thought. If you took your time, not ran, maybe you could have done it. What a world that would be. Instead, you were the cowardice woman you’d always been.

Using magic while highly emotional was dangerous- it was exactly what you needed. You were emotional, caught up in the moment. You would have to be in the same state again, it was when your powers were at their strongest. You weren’t needed in the equation anymore.[1]

You made your way out of the room, pushing away anyone away. You wished Mallory luck knowing she would need it.

Cordelia was shattered by what you’d done- more than the others, she was the one who made you feel like you had to do it. You knew what she was thinking of doing and you couldn't let her. Once you were gone you couldn't stop her, but you postpone it until after you were gone.

You pushed past the two fighting with Michael. Queenie called out your name, confused with what you were doing. Marie Laveau was taken aback when you ordered them to back up. They had knocked Michael to the ground and had been teaming up on the boy. Michael had been knocked to the ground, he spat out some blood as he looked up to you expecting to see the two other women.

“Your offer still up?” You joked as you kicked him under the jaw. Falling back forwards, it took him a second to bounce back having already taken a beating from the other two.

You got into a boxing stance, gesturing him to come hither, “Come on, fight me like a real man.” You were surprised when he threw a punch at you. You swerved away, grabbing him by the collar of his dinner jacket and swung him into the wall.

Queenie cheered you on. You had gained an audience, Coco and Wilhelmina joined in watching. The sound effects they made as you fought him boasted your ego and enraged Langdon more. You were keeping him injured enough so he couldn’t use his magic back. Cordelia and Myrtle would have been helping Mallory into the tub about now if they hadn’t already. You prayed you could stay alive long enough for Mallory to go back. You didn’t want to die.

You swung him around like he was a ragdoll. People may have thought you had taken fighting lessons when it was really easy to keep and already weak man down.

He was slumped against a wall, wiping the blood from his mouth. You approached the man, towering over his limp body.

“You had the audacity to offer me a spot as your servant when you killed my love. You underestimated me, dickhead,” you slammed him back into the wall to make sure he didn’t make a move. You had an idea, something you picked up in one of the magic books you read passing the countless hours you’d been stuck here. It was dangerous but you had everything you needed. “I won’t kill you, no, that would be back for my soul. Instead, I want to give you a gift.” You stepped back acting show offish as you did it. You pulled out your switchblade, flicking it open. You’d give them a story to tell for centuries. You dug the blade down the centre of your forearm, deeply enough to get some blood gushing out. You did the same to the other then muttered a curse. Your audience wondered what you were up to- as well as your puppet. “In my interview, I told you that you deserve to rot here. I was wrong. You deserve a lot worse and I know just the boys to do it.”

You whistled as loudly as possible. The walls and floors began to shake. Michael should never have come back to the school after what he did. You pointed at the man and yelled, “Boys, come and get him.”

The spirits of all the boys at this school he killed charged at him, pummelling him and beating him to a pulp. That should give the witches enough time to reverse time and kill Michael before all this happened.

Your audience was squashed to the side as the dead students came through. Coco, the one least in shock of what you did, rushed over to you going to drag you back towards the others. She was so excited about what she saw, raving onto you about how cool she thought it was as she guided you back to the other three. They all complimented you, but you couldn’t hear them over the ringing.

In the distance, you saw Papa Legba. You still had a deal to repay. The blood dripping from you kept rushing out, you were losing a lot of blood and fast. Michael wouldn’t last much longer with the ghosts; half your bargain would be repaid. You were the other half. None of them noticed your wooziness. In a spur of the moment, you pulled Wilhemina close to you and made out with her with as much passion you could while slowly slipping away.

With a last moment like that, maybe hell won’t be so bad.

Mallory had done it, she killed Michael. After all the trouble he caused all her sister witches, she managed to kill him by running him over when he was younger. It was underwhelming to say the least. Everything was right in its place. She would go back to the academy and everything would be alright. It was a little two earlier for her, originally, she had joined the school a little later, maybe a year or two. It wasn’t a probably, a head start wouldn’t hurt her. It did make her cautious for the current Supreme Cordelia. She couldn’t blossom too early in case it harms her friend. It was entirely possible that something was changed in the time travel. This isn’t her time; it could have messed with the universe causing disastrous consequences. She didn’t feel any weaker than the moment she did when Cordelia’s power flowed into her. Again, bring into question if this was her world just changed into time or an alternate universe. She guessed it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, what happened did happen because she travelled back in time and he couldn’t have technique died if it never happened. Too much, she can think about it another time, she needed to see- meet her friends and set everything straight.

One problem was solved but there were a couple others. First of all, she needed to stop Queenie from going to the Cortez. It was simple enough, Queenie brought up the show in her presence and she told her the view was bad. She decided to change hotel plans. She learned that Myrtle wasn’t alive in this time (one of the few downsides to saving the world) with no grave threat, Cordelia hadn’t found the need to resurrect the woman.

Another bonus to this timeline, because she killed the anti-Christ’s son, they brought back on of Cordelia’s friends. No one explained who did something good for the spirits to bring her back to them but Cordelia was forever thankful.

It had been a couple months since Mallory arrived at the school before you turned up. When she originally arrived, you had been there for some time and already had the mystery surrounding you. She was going to stop that before it happened once more.

It was the middle of the day when there was a knock on the door, Cordelia was the one to answer it as classes had already commenced.

“Hello,”

You were stunned, now that you stood there you didn’t know what to do. “Uh~” You shook your head trying to get your brain to work. “I saw your interview on the tv a couple months back and- um-”

“You think you might be a witch?”

“I hope so or I may have just made the stupidest decision in my life.” She was confused but you brushed it off saying for her not to worry about it. She brought you inside gesturing you to where you could leave your luggage while she interviewed you. “I’m sorry this might be inconvenient, but can I get a glass of water or something before you interview me, my throat’s a bit dry.”

“That’s no problem at all, I can show you around your new home to while at it.”

“New home yeah,” you mumbled not enthused by the thought of this being your new home, but you needed to be here to learn more about yourself. Cordelia could sense your uncomfortableness with all of this but blamed it with unfamiliarity.

The two of you walked past a class in session, you watched as you approached noting the two young witches teaching the class. They stopped teaching when they noticed that the class had focused their attention on the headmistress and you.

You didn’t enjoy being stared at, you lowered your gaze, playing with your engagement ring.

“New girl?”

“Yes, this is- uh~ I never got your name.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

“Doesn’t seem your last name will stay like that for much longer,” Mallory said. “Is that an engagement ring I spot?”

You chuckled awkwardly. This made some of the girls light up, some got out of there chair to see the ring. You shyer away, Cordelia was about to step in when the girls’ excitement decided to make you cave. These girls didn’t even know you and they were excited for you. Mallory slipped next to the Cordelia as they hassled you for more details on your partner, “Come on girl tell us about him.”

“You couldn’t have seen the ring from where you were sitting,” Cordelia said to the girl, not tearing her gaze from you.

“She was playing with it-” She knew Mallory was bluffing. “I can’t explain it to you, but she reminds me of an old friend.”

“No, no it’s a woman,” You said shy of telling them about your preferences- this was a girl only school. Unlike what you thought, the acceptance they showed helped to build your confidence in order to talk about your fiancé. The others loved listening.

“What happened to this friend?” Cordelia asked.

“She ran away from love to learn about herself and regretted it until the end.”

“Of her life?”

“Something like that,” Mallory said.

You made large gestures with your hands as you told the story of how you met. A few students gasped, all on the edge of their sits.

“Okay girls stop harassing Y/N,” Cordelia said. All the girls around you backed up. The smile you wore died down. You went back into your timid persona unsure of what to do. “We took up enough of your class time and I still need to get your paperwork in order.”

“Water?” You reminded Cordelia.

“Yes, this way.” She led you into the kitchen to get your beverage.

The paperwork was long and boring. Being under the school’s care meant they needed to be aware of any health issues you had, allergies and all that personal stuff so they could keep an eye on you if needed, make sure you’re in your best possible health and to ensure they don’t feed you something that could kill you. Besides that, it was standard information, birth date, emergency contact (if you had one), etc.

“Heaven forbid something happened to you; do you have anyone you would like us to contact?” She asked still looking down at your papers. When you didn’t respond she peered up. You shook your head. “What about your fiancé?” You lowered your head, shaking it again slowly. Cordelia settled her pen down. She clasped her hands in front of her before adjusting her chair, so she was closer to her desk and in turn you. “She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

“No Ma’am.”

“There’s no need for here formalities Y/N.” She leant forward, tilting her head trying to see your face. “Are you going to tell her?” You paid her the attention she wanted. She went back into her original position. “She’s going to worry.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” You regretted what you said immediately, “I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s- I don’t know, complex? She wouldn’t understand-”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, not even allowing her a chance to understand you.” She had a point. “If you don’t tell her, I will, and it will look a lot worse for you if I do it.”

“You couldn’t do that-”

“I could perform a simple spell and find her in less than five minutes. Or I could do it the old-fashion way and ask for details from the girls you spoke to earlier. I’m guessing you mentioned a name?”

“Yeah.”

“Through the name into google along with some other details and I’m all good.” Maybe she wasn’t bluffing. “So, which will it be?” You didn’t want this woman to do it but how could you speak to her after what you’ve done? You were so convinced that she would reject you or hate your guts that you couldn’t phone her. “I ca-n’t,” you stuttered out, ashamed of yourself.

“Do you want to give me the number or are you going to make this difficult for me?” She asked.

You gave her the number in the end. She asked you to stay during the call, but you couldn’t. You sat outside looking out into the backyard.

“You alright there?” Mallory asked plopping down next to you. You nodded not paying her much mind. Sensing you were not, she offered to distract you for a bit by telling you a story. One of witches and warlocks, where the world came to end, and the survivors had to play it safe or die. You found similarities with one of the characters and another reminded you of your fiancé (funny enough the two were together in the tale). You thanked her for saving your mind.

“You told me the others lived happily after but what happened to the leader and her lover?”

“They-” Mallory was cut off with the entrance of Cordelia who asked if she was interrupting. You both shook your head.

“I spoke to her and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N-” Mallory put her hand on your shoulder causing you too look at her. “Listen to what she has to say.” You squinted at her; did you know her? Nah. You think you would remember her.

“She was irritated at first- mostly because she thought I was lying. She wants to speak to you.”

“I ca-”

“I told her that you refused and after a lot of talking, we booked her tickets to the next flight over.”

“You didn’t- why?”

“Your one of us now, we take care of our own.”

With the world as it should be, the lot of you had no care in the world. The whole ordeal of outpost 3 just a distant memory to Mallory.

When Wilhemina showed up at the academy’s door, there was a lot of sobbing (on your part). You were the one to open the door. Cordelia and Mallory was there for moral support and to make sure you actually went through with it.

“Y/N/N?”

The beautiful redhead stood in front of you.

You choked up, “M-Mina.” You pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first but warmed into the hug. “I-I’m sooo sorry. I’m so stu-pid.” She shushed you. She didn’t make you explain anything until you had calmed down.

It was odd to see the once feared head of outpost three in a different light. The woman, though hesitant at first, warmed up to the new world. Seeing how happy you were when she was around, Cordelia offered the woman a job at the academy helping Cordelia out with all the boring paperwork Cordelia always found herself drowning in. She even upped the pay to make the job more enticing. She never told you that she did that. Everything was behind your back. It was the best surprise you had in years. Wilhelmina remained in the office most of her time, you popped by when you didn’t have any classes (Cordelia may have walked in on you two a couple of times doing unspeakable things. She had to make it a rule no sex in the office).

Though Wilhemina was bound to her office (or you) most of the time, she did grow close to the residents of Miss Robichaux's. When retelling all the events of the day, she would stop to make sure she knew which girl you were talking about, learning their names through the tales you told. You had to snap at her once or twice to be nice to your peers, especially the younger ones. A few tears were shed but you had a way with helping people feel better.

The two of you held off on your plans until you were able to get married Louisiana. You held it at the school because the students had turned into both your family and there was no point in having it anywhere else. It was the definition of a fairy-tale wedding.

Even though everything felt perfect, the devil wasn’t going to give up his plans that easily but this time the witches would be more prepared for the worst.

Thanks for reading :)

#venable x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhelmina venable X reader #wilhelmina x reader

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