#instead of sitting down and examining their beliefs
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it truly doesn’t matter if youre a good person or if you try to improve yourself... the only thing that matters is your social skill and social abilities
#i am set up for failure because i have several mental illnesses and no social skills and a very very tiny social battery#i try to be better and improve myself because its the right thing to do. notbecause theres any social pressure or expectation of it#the social expectation is actually to never improve and never think or bring up serious topics#just have mindless fun at everyones elses expence and dont make anyone uncomfortable with politics!#like i know how to 'fit in' so to say.#iknow what words need to be said and what needs to be done#but i just dont have it in me. its not who i am#not a lot of people want to#put up with who i really am#and thats honesxtly fair#but what really makes me upset is how#people who honestly have abhorrent beliefs are enjoying life to the fulles#fullest#meanwhile im burning in hell for a thousand years#i know i would be happier and more successful if i simply didnt care and didnt give a shit#thats not even to say im a saint and my beliefs are perfect#but i at the very least try to think and educate myself even if its a slow process for me#im not that smart definitely not educated but i try to be better#i find that a lot of people i know just choose to be comfortable#instead of sitting down and examining their beliefs
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Fearless Social Confidence: Strategies to Live Without Fear, Speak Without Insecurity, Beat Social Anxiety, and Stop Caring What Others Think - Patrick King book notes
Socially confident people:
expect to be accepted. When they meet strangers, they expect to make a good impression. They never approach situations thinking, “What if they don’t like me?” Instead they think, “I hope I like them.”
evaluate themselves positively. Socially confident people are encouraging, positive, and accepting of themselves. They give themselves leeway not to be perfect and don’t beat themselves up too harshly when they are not.
feel comfortable around superiors. Socially confident people feel comfortable because they don’t feel threatened, or that their flaws and vulnerabilities will be highlighted by the other person’s qualities.
With a lack of social confidence, you are usually choosing the thought that is cruelest to yourself.
when navy SEALs recognize that they are feeling overwhelmed, they regain control by focusing on their breath—breathing in for four seconds, holding for four seconds, and then out for four seconds, and repeating until you can feel your heart rate slow down and normalize.
Core beliefs:
Steps in a thought diary entry can be arranged in the easy-to-remember A-C-B format—
Activating Event. Note down the event/ situation. This is simply the origin point of your emotional change. It’s whatever caused your emotional status to change from calm to agitation (a memory, a song, etc).
Consequences. In this step you identify the specific emotions and sensations that arose. These could be simple feeling words— “anxious,” “unhappy,” “sickened,” “panicky,” “melancholy,” “confused,” and so forth.
Beliefs. This is where the action begins. How do you link the activating event with the consequences? What unconscious narrative or story about yourself was told to achieve the consequence? (“What was I thinking?” “What was going through my head when this happened?” “What’s wrong with that?”“What does this all mean?” “What does it reveal about me?”)
Now you’ve gotten to the bottom of your situation and figured out what your core beliefs are.
The first step is writing down one of the core beliefs you’ve just uncovered. Ask yourself what experiences you’ve had that prove your core belief wasn’t always true. Generate as many experiences as you can and be very specific about what happened.
Write down the core belief you’re examining. Think of ways that you can put that belief to the test. These are actual tasks that you can perform. Then, write down what you expect or predict will happen after conducting these tasks if your core belief was true. Perform the tasks. Write down what really happened after you completed your task. Compare and contrast your predictions with what actually happened. Finally, document what you learned from the task and come up with a new, more reasonable core belief that goes in line with your discoveries.
Bushman’s results imply that sometimes the best course of action after being provoked to anger is to just sit quietly and let it pass.
There’s a direct link between social anxiety and negativity. A 2016 Australian research study showed that “elevated social anxiety vulnerability is characterized only by facilitated attentional engagement with socially negative information.” Obsessing over negative details—including by constantly talking about one’s problems—only reinforces one’s social fears and does nothing to inspire real confidence in a social setting.
Personalization is the mother of guilt. In the cognitive distortion of personalizing, you feel responsible for events that cannot conceivably be your fault. While it is admirable to take responsibility for your actions, there are things completely out of your control: the subway schedule, other people’s actions, and a million day-to-day factors.
Common cues of overgeneralization are “always” and “never.” When starting a sentence or a thought with “always” or “never,” consider whether you have the experience or evidence to back up the statement.
Other people aren't only what they are showing to the world. Most people put on a good show. But do you really know what might be going on in their private life? Take comfort from the fact that while there will be many people who are better at certain things than you are, there are also most certainly things that you will be better at.
If you are self-conscious and worried that people will judge you if you say something stupid or “off,” there's an easy workaround to that. The best approach is simple preparation. Create answers to predictable questions and conversations. Run that mental videotape in your mind about your past 10, 20, or 30 social conversations. I guarantee they are not all that different from each other.
Figure out the general questions that people will ask and the topics that will come up in normal conversation and be prepared with story-answers. For example, How was your weekend? What are you doing this weekend? How was your day? What do you do for work?
How can we ease ourselves into social confidence little by little?
List the social situations you avoid. Ask yourself what kinds of gatherings or circumstances you steer clear of and write them all down in a list. Your list should include both physical situations—parties, family gatherings, work presentations, and so forth—and personal experiences that you don’t want to face.
Give each situation a SUDS level from 0 to 100.
Plan your goals.
Build your goal stepladder. You’ve planned a goal and have decided to start work. Remember, situational exposure is a bit-by-bit process.
#powerful woman#c suite#ceo aesthetic#personal growth#strong women#productivity#that girl#getting your life together#balance#Book#social#social anxiety#confidence#speaking
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encrypted relations
part 10 l masterlist
summary: yelena belova x reader. when natasha takes you under her wing, she becomes like family, and the last thing you want is to lose that. but when you meet her younger sister who you know is off limits, you have to decide between what you really want and hope for minimal damage
word count: 4.5k
warnings: mentions of previous abusive relationship, physical and mental trauma recovery
a/n: happy valentines ig <3 thank you all for your comments and support, here's the final chapter :)
The steady beeps and flow of your breathing through a mask seemed loud in Yelena’s ears as she sat by your side. She had hardly moved in the days you had occupied the hospital bed, even pacing outside the operating theatres for the long hours you spent in there. The blonde had been told by nurses, doctors, Natasha and Kate that it would do her a lot of good to go home and get some rest, that you would be closely monitored when she wasn’t there. Yet Yelena couldn’t bring herself to so much as leave the ward.
“She’s stable, but right now our main concern is what her mobility will be like when she wakes up given the damage to her legs and back. It’s hard to predict at this time,” the doctor told Natasha as the pair stood outside of your room.
“When will she wake up?” The redhead asked as looked through the window to where Yelena had fallen asleep on the chair. Her neck would be sore when she woke up.
“Whenever she’s ready.”
“Okay, thank you,” Natasha nodded, understanding that there wasn’t much more they could do for you at that moment in time apart from administering the right medication. The rest was down to you.
Natasha winced as she watched her sister suddenly jolt awake from her brief sleep. She rubbed the side of her neck as she brought her chair slightly closer to your bed and examined the monitors for a few moments for anything different. The redhead had been trying to give Yelena some space in the previous days given that she wasn’t accepting anyone's company except for yours, but Natasha knew it wasn’t healthy to let her sister carry on alone.
She knocked on the door gently before she entered, giving Yelena a small smile she didn’t get back. Natasha pulled up the spare chair next to the blonde, sitting in silence for a few minutes as she took in your state. You were better, though the damage was still prominent.
“Kate wants to come and see her,” Natasha finally said.
“No one’s stopping her,” Yelena was quick to say.
“You don’t seem to like anyone else being in here,” the redhead commented. Yelena didn’t respond. It was somewhat true. “You can’t shut everyone out, Yelena.”
“Why did you not want us to be together?” The blonde asked as she watched the steady rise and fall of your chest. Natasha followed her eyeline, knowing Yelena was going to ask that question sooner or later.
“It’s not that I didn’t want it to happen, I just wanted you both to be careful,” Natasha sighed. “You’re new to relationships and y/n’s only seen the bad side to them. That doesn’t make you incompatible but I thought you both would’ve seen the sense in going slow instead of skipping straight to sex.” Yelena listened carefully to her sister, understanding her point. It made sense in hindsight, as most things did, though at the time there had been a part of both of you that knew it too.
“And besides, I thought you guys would tell me about something like that. I never expected you to think you had to sneak around and hide it from me. You should never have to keep something like that a secret, especially from your sister,” Natasha explained clearly as she looked at Yelena who nodded slowly.
“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered.
“I’m your sister but I’m her friend. I should’ve been looking out for both of you,” Natasha admitted.
“You’ll have the chance when she wakes up,” Yelena stated adamantly, not allowing anything to shake her belief that you would be okay.
“Yeah,” Natasha agreed.
“You recognised Ruslana,” Yelena started slowly. “But not from the red room and not by her name. Who was she to y/n?” She asked, the question had been weighing on her since their meeting.
“As much as I wish it wasn’t true, she’s who she said she was,” Natasha said honestly. “It wasn’t a healthy relationship by any means, she had y/n do the hacking for the red room - not that anyone knew that at the time,” she explained.
“She never told me that.”
“She never told anyone.”
“I am glad I killed her,” Yelena said after a steady sigh.
“I’m glad you did too,” Natasha admitted. “Even if it was reckless,” she added. Yelena rolled her eyes but her sister didn’t miss the smile that settled on her lips. “I’m going to get you some lunch,” Natasha told her as she stood up. “I’ll get enough for Kate too.” Yelena nodded and pulled out her phone to text the young archer.
“I miss you,” Yelena told your sleeping form. “I wish I knew about Rae, maybe it would have helped. But I understand why you didn’t tell me,” she said. You took several supported breaths. “I wish I was more honest as well,” she admitted. “But we’ll have time for all that when you’re awake,” she said adamantly, though the continuous beeps from the machines attached to you worked to dig doubt into Yelena’s mind.
“Please wake up,” she whispered, her voice breaking as her eyes clouded. “I missed you so much, please don’t stay away much longer.”
*
The light was the first thing your brain registered when you woke up. It was far too bright, a painful contrast to the blanket of darkness you had rested under for the past week. You kept your eyes squeezed shut as you allowed the rest of your senses to adjust and take in your surroundings, the steady beeping next to you being too loud for one thing. The bed you were on was far more comfortable than your last one and the room was pleasantly cool, as though someone knew that was your preferred sleeping conditions.
The pain was the next thing you experienced and it made the discomfort of the lights jump to the back of your mind in comparison. It was everywhere and seemed to extend right into the centre of your bones without pity. Your skin felt as though it was tearing with every slight movement and the whimper you gave only scratched at your dry throat as you grasped at the bedsheets and stumbled upon a warm hand resting on your bed. You forced your eyes open just as Yelena did, meeting the grey orbs that you had hardly left your mind in your time apart. Your breath hitched as her features brightened at you.
“Hi,” she said as an anxious smile flickered across her lips.
“Hi,” you whispered, your throat protesting. Yelena grabbed the jug next to your bed and poured a glass of water, not hesitating to bring it up to your lips to aid you to take the water with steady sips until you had enough to ease the ache in your throat. “Thank you,” you said, unsure of how to even start on everything else you wanted to say. “Have you been here long?”
“I haven’t left,” she told you.
“How long has it been?” You frowned. “You must be tired.”
“I’m sure it is nothing compared to you,” Yelena said, noticing your pain. You glanced down at your covered body, unsure if you wanted to see what lied beneath. “I will get a doctor,” she announced but the moment she stood up you reached out for her wrist and held it tightly.
“Wait,” you said, not wanting to wait any longer to fix the regrets you had become all too aware of during your last consciousness. “I’m sorry,” you started but Yelena cut you off as she sat back down.
“Don’t say that,” she insisted, though it sounded like a plea. “I know you didn’t mean what you said at the party.”
“I just want to explain,” you winced.
“I read the letter,” she told you.
“Oh?” You remembered that letter vividly. “Right,” you nodded, recalling how it had ended. You hadn’t written that letter with the intention of recalling it to the blonde word for word, it was meant to be a guide to help you navigate your mind. You hadn’t planned for Yelena to be on that journey with you. So where did that leave you?
“Can I take you out some time?” Yelena suddenly asked with an air of uncertainty that you weren’t ever going to be used to seeing on her. Despite the pain, you smiled.
“I would like that,” you told her and saw her shoulders instantly relax. She shifted her wrist so that she could hold your hand in hers, a gesture that hadn’t lost any of its perfection. “Where do people usually go on first dates?” You asked with an easy grin that Yelena mirrored.
“I was hoping you would know,” she countered knowingly.
“Maybe a cat rescue centre?” You suggested. Yelena rolled her eyes and dropped your hand with a huff.
“Screw you,” she said, though it was clear she was suppressing a smile. You chuckled at the sight and felt a bloom of pain arise in your chest. “Can I get someone now?” You nodded, letting her go under the certainty that she would return.
You rested your head back and tried to focus on anything but the increasing pain across your body, remembering all too vividly how you had come by your injuries. You didn’t want to think about Rae, especially now that Yelena’s role in your life was finally beginning to feel more concrete, but your past had caught up to you in a way you couldn’t have ever anticipated.
Rae was a widow and nothing you ever had was real. You were just a means to an end for her to use to support what Yelena and Natasha had suffered from. You frowned, refusing to let yourself fall into that spiral of guilt that never did any good for anyone. Sure, you had indirectly caused harm, but with S.H.I.E.L.D and Yelena, you had played a significant part in helping the heroes and the later acts had been your choice. That was enough.
“Miss, l/n,” a doctor greeted as she stepped into the room with Yelena close behind. “How are you feeling?” She asked with a genuine smile.
“Bruised,” you undermined slightly in the blonde’s presence, not wanting her to know how bad the pain really was.
“We’ll increase your dosage so that you can be more comfortable,” she told you as she read your vitals and the information written out on the board above you. “Your body’s been through a lot,” she informed as she began to explain the numerous operations you had gone through and how your body was expected to recover, given the chance and what condition it was in at that time. “Could I ask you to raise your left leg?” She asked. You felt Yelena shift next to you as you strained to lift the heavy limb and succeeded, after several moments' effort, to get it a few inches above the bed and repeated it with the other. You were unable to raise either of them as high as you could prior to your injuries, but you were well aware of how lucky you were to be able to move it at all.
“That’s good to see,” the doctor told you honestly, withholding from the fact there had been great apprehension as to whether or not you would be able to accomplish the movement. “Can you try and sit on the edge of the bed with your feet over?” She continued though that proved to be harder. Your back burned in protest as you twisted it and you had to use your hands to help drag your legs across the mattress until they fell over the edge and you suddenly felt very unsure of your ability to support yourself. You gripped onto the bed as tight as you could while Yelena stood by your side with her arms outstretched ready to catch you should you fall.
“Now when you’re ready, see if you can stand up.” You breathed out and peered over the side of the bed with some apprehension. You suddenly felt quite high up. Tentatively, you pulled yourself closer to the edge until your feet hovered just an inch from the floor.
“I’ve got you,” Yelena reassured. You smiled at her with little confidence and finally pushed yourself off with a soft pat on the floor. You didn’t let go of the bedrail as you steadied yourself, leaning the majority of your body weight on the bed instead of your own two feet until you let go. You stood for several seconds unsupported until the muscles in your legs gave out beneath you. True to her word, Yelena caught you just as you toppled, hooking her arms underneath yours and immediately guiding you back to the bed where you sat in defeat. The doctor mentioned something about physiotherapy, but you weren’t really listening. Your legs were numb again, but it proved difficult to be too disheartened when you felt Yelena rub soothing circles on your waist as she listened to the doctor intently.
“And we’ll monitor your progress to see if you need any additional support,” the doctor said, noticing that she didn’t have your full attention.
“Like what?” Yelena enquired.
“Leg braces can be of great help.” You nodded absently. You didn’t want a brace.
“Thank you,” you muttered towards the nurse, wanting the meeting to end. She seemed to take the cue and departed with a sympathetic smile. Once she closed the door behind her, you looked at the blonde and patted the space in the small bed behind you. A smile graced Yelena’s lips as she moved to the other side of the bed and you hauled your legs up again, settling on your side as she slipped in beside you. You didn’t waste a second in stretching your bandaged arms out around her as she did the same. It was easier to ignore the pain when it meant you were able to hold the blonde again and a small price to pay to feel her steady breathing above you.
“I will help you walk too,” Yelena told you with a certainty you always associated her with.
“Tomorrow,” you replied. “Let's just stay like this for now.” Though Yelena wanted to help you get better as quickly as possible, she couldn’t decline the offer to stay with you in the way she had been craving. Instead, she rested her chin on top of your head until you both fell into a peaceful slumber like you had numerous times before.
*
“Oh my god,” Kate rushed out once she stepped into the room.
“Hey,” you smiled at the sight of your best friend and sat up slightly.
“I can’t believe you did that!” She exclaimed. “That was so dumb!” She continued, giving you the same frantic look she did after drinking a dozen red bulls in order to get through a twenty four hour stake out. “That was so so dumb and I’m so mad at you,” she told you as she enveloped you in a tight hug and clambered onto the bed beside you. You chuckled with a wince you didn’t want the archer to see as her hands caught the edge of the strike on your back. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said as she held you tight.
“I won’t be if you keep squeezing the air out of me,” you told her with a grin. She pulled back with a start and gave you a sheepish smile.
“Sorry I just…you scared me,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m so-”
“Don’t you dare,” you interrupted. “It was my choice to leave. It scared me when I thought they had you,” you pointed out, seeing the comfort Kate drew from your words. “Worthit though.”
“Really?” Kate frowned as she glanced at the different bandages across you.
“Yeah. The way I see it, I tried to save your ass so now you owe me so much pizza,” you shrugged and Kate began to grin.
“Except you didn’t really save either of us,” she said matter of factly.
“I still almost got turned into minced meat for you!” You huffed. Kate was beyond glad that you were still able to make light of something that could have destroyed other people. She knew you were still hurting, but it was good to see you hadn’t been entirely broken by what had happened.
“Not just me,” she smirked. “I heard Yelena’s been in here a lot.” You hummed simply, suppressing your smile.
“I sent her home to have a shower.” Kate chuckled at that.
“Are you guys good?” She asked except the way she was looking at you indicated that she already knew the answer.
“We’re going on a date,” you informed with a grin that Kate quickly mirrored and launched forwards to give you another, lighter hug.
“Finally,” she beamed.
“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed with an eye roll as she pulled back.
“I’m happy for you,” she told you with a sincerity that made her eyes glimmer. “For you both,” she added.
“Thanks, Kate. For everything. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” you told your best friend.
“Somewhere really lame I bet,” she shrugged and pulled up a chair next to your bed to give you some space. “So I know you’re happy with Yelena and all that sappy stuff,” she began. “But you do realise that as best friends we’re obligated to discuss this latest addition to the whole crazy ex thing.” You knew that there was never any genuine pressure to discuss the most recent events that had unfolded with Rae, but you were done trying to pretend like anything to do with her never happened.
“Well for starters, she’s a widow,” you said.
“Dude, what the fuck?!”
*
“You’re doing well, y/n,” the therapist encouraged once she helped you up from the heap on the floor. You bite your tongue as you clung to the bar to prevent yourself from snipping that it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel like you were making much progress at all despite working your leg muscles as best you could in the past few days. “I think we should call it a day for this session and pick it up again tomorrow,” she suggested. You didn’t want to stop. You wanted to keep going but you knew the physiotherapist had a lot of other patients to attend to and you couldn’t take her attention away from them.
Yelena emerged from where she had been watching from the sidelines and brought your wheelchair with you to help you into it. You almost swatted her hand away to do it yourself, but you needed the support and you couldn’t brush her off. You went back to your ward in silence as Yelena commented on your progress, apparently sharing the belief that you were making good progress. You still couldn’t walk unsupported and you could only take several steps at a time before falling. Yelena and Kate were amazing for being so supportive, but it had always been Natasha who had taught you skills you needed the most. You hadn’t seen her since that night at the party and you were beginning to believe it would be a while until you would again.
“We don’t have to wait until you’re walking, we could go to a restaurant that is wheelchair accessible,” Yelena rambled as she helped you back into the bed.
“You’re not getting tired of waiting on me, are you Belova?” You quipped.
“I’ve been waiting a long time,” she muttered back with a fond smile. You hummed in agreement. “I’ve done some research to see which restaurants would be best,” she continued. Of course she has. “But I want to visit them myself to fact check,” she told you matter of factly. “Because sometimes it’s not as good as they say and-”
“I love you,” you said suddenly. Yelena’s eyes widened as she took in your words. “Sorry, you don’t have to say it back and I know you kind of already knew it because of the letter and if history has taught us anything I probably shouldn’t be moving so fast anyway but it just felt right to tell you because-”
“I love you too,” she cut you off confidently. “I think I have loved you for a long time,” she added. You pulled her forwards slightly and she took the cue to lean down and kiss you softly, cherishing the moment’s intimacy that you had both waited so long to display. It was new territory for you both, yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world. “And I would like to go on a date sooner rather than later,” she smiled.
“Just don’t stay away for too long,” you replied, still holding her hand as she pulled away.
“Never,” Yelena promised, leaving your room with a glowing feeling in her chest that she was allowed to embrace for the first time in her life. She owed that to you.
Similarly, you lay with a content grin on your lips for a while as you reflected on every moment you had with Yelena and couldn’t help but anticipate what was to come. Though if she was constantly willing to go the extra mile, you should be too. With that in mind, you dragged your feet over the side of the bed and braced against the sides as you raised yourself to your feet, unaware of the emerald eyes that watched you from the hallway.
You took a supported step as you clung to the bed, feeling your legs shake in protest but unwilling to back down just yet. You carried on regardless and successfully reached the end of your bed so you could set your target on the window just two steps away. Two steps was nothing, right? Wrong. The moment you advanced towards the window the numbness took over both legs in their entirety and you toppled to the floor without Yelena being there to help you up. Someone else was though.
“I thought you were only supposed to do that with a nurse around,” Natasha stated as she appeared by your side. You looked up at her with a badly concealed surprise as she held her hand out to you. You took it, knowing you were unable to get up on your own.
“As if you would follow that advice,” you muttered, uncomfortable at the tension that filled the room.
Natasha didn't reply to that. “They said you’re doing well,” she said instead as she helped you sit down. She didn’t pull up a chair, opting to hover by your side with her arms across her chest.
“Apparently,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. You had never found yourself struggling to make conversation with the redhead before, even though there was something you both needed to talk about.
“Yelena said you guys are gonna go out some time.” You kept your eyes glued to your lap as you swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in your throat.
“Yeah, is that…yeah,” you said slowly, wanting to ask for her approval but too afraid to hear her reject it.
“I’m glad-” she began but you cut her off before you could take in what she was trying to say.
“I’m sorry, Nat. I know you told me not to date your sister and I never thought we would actually- I mean I didn’t expect that she would even want to- or that we would end up getting so-”
“Y/n,” Natasha cut off as she sat down next to you. “I had no right to ever tell you Yelena was off limits and honestly, if I had known how you felt about each other before I saw what you did with each other, I never would have stood in your way,” she said firmly. “I would have had some issues with the order you two were working in,” she continued and you finally let yourself smile in relief, “but that’s only because I want the best for both of you. Now I know what that is.” Without another word, Natasha tilted her head to rest against yours and you didn’t waste another second in leaning in to wrap your arms around her, feeling the immense safety that always came from being in such proximity to either Russian.
“I promise not to hurt her again,” you whispered.
“I’ll spare you the lecture,” she chuckled.
“I’ve heard enough of them,” you told her as you remembered the hours Rae had spent at your side.
“You’re safe now,” Natasha said with all the assurance you needed to hear. “I told you I’d find her.” You hummed faintly.
“I never doubted it. Now there’s nothing holding me back.”
*
Six months later
“Just a bit further,” Yelena encouraged as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. You glanced up at the last stretch of the hill, knowing it was going to be the hardest. It would be worth it though. “Do you want to stop for a bit?” Your girlfriend asked as she watched you struggle to persevere.
“I got it,” you told her even though your legs were burning, adamant on getting to the top without any assistance. Yelena stuck close to your side as Marty peered up at you from the other, giving a bark of encouragement too. “Thanks, bud,” you told him as the last few metres drew closer and you finally hauled yourself up to the top where you collapsed in an exhausted heap. Your burning legs were numb but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you gazed out across the cliff.
“Are you okay?” Yelena asked, concern written over her features as she crouched down in front of you. You merely smiled up at her and placed your hand to her cheek, only needing a moment of that contact to ease her worries as she sat down next to you to admire the view and grab some water from her backpack for you all.
“It’s even better in the summer,” she commented as you sat up, resting your head on her shoulder. You hummed in agreement and craned your head slightly to gaze at Yelena.
“Beautiful,” you muttered.
“We should camp out here next time,” she said, too caught up in the view to notice your subtle admiration of her.
“I like that idea,” you told her, although what you really liked was the idea that there would be a next time and no doubt many more after. “I think they do too,” you added when you noticed Marty and Fanny looking at you both with great interest. Yelena chuckled and rested her own head on yours.
“You think you will be up for it?” The blonde enquired.
“I think so,” you said. “I hope so.”
“You’re doing well,” she told you, knowing how frustrated you had been over your slow healing progress at the start but how, despite the odds, you had made it back onto your feet.
“So are you,” you said. Yelena kissed your forehead softly, knowing what you meant.
“It’s easy loving you,” she said simply. You grinned, feeling your heart elevate in your chest as you wrapped your arms around your girlfriend and sat content under the knowledge that you never had to doubt it. “It always will be.”
The end.
#marvel#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova#white widow#natasha romanoff#kate bishop#gxg marvel
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pairing: chenle x reader x renjun
wc:500+
warnings: renle are kinda mean, oral (m recieving), thigh riding, pet names (readers: pup, chenle: sir, renjun: daddy)
a/n: this is for my baby @hall0ween-twn i hope u like it my love
The men before you could almost laugh at how pathetic you look, struggling to take all of Chenle's cock in your mouth. Your teary eyes looking up at Chenle as he pushes your head further down on his cock. He was big and he wasn't gonna miss a single chance to make it known. Meanwhile Renjun watched the two of you, constantly making mean comments that were enough to have you dripping onto his bed.
"What a messy girl, was so desperate to have us but can't even take him now? such a shame" Chenle could only chuckle at how much Renjun's words affected you, pulling you off his cock to look you in the eyes. "What do you want pup? Tell me, Daddy is too mean" he pouts at you almost mockingly.
"'Sir..." You looked into his eyes, full of lust and desire for you. His gaze enough for you to admit what you've been whining about. Making both of the men in the room chuckle at your desperation. "My poor pup, You're horny? how cute, come show me how you get yourself off on my lap and we’ll decide if we’ll fuck you or not”
Your jaw dropped at that, "Daddy...?" looking over at Renjun who’s sitting in only his boxers on his desk chair not far from where the two of you are on the bed. He just shrugs at you with a smirk. “Either that or we get off and you just get to watch us”
You knew better than that so immediately, you got to work. Climbing onto Chenle’s thigh, your pussy making direct contact with his bare leg before you began rutting your hips against his thighs. The friction being more than anything they’ve given you tonight so you were grateful for whatever they gave you now.
“You can do better than that pup. You wanna get fucked or not?” You looked up at where the voice came from, Chenle was looking at you with the same smirk he always has when the three of you are in these situations. You whimpered at the feeling of you clit rubbing against his skin so good. You placed a hand on Chenle’s arm to ground yourself, needing to hold onto something before it got too much for you. The whole situation was turning you on beyond belief but you knew you had to do good in this if you wanted to get fucked tonight (which you did).
Not soon after, you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach, your head getting dizzy and before you even got the chance to ask for permission to cum, your body came to a sudden halt, feeling hands all over you holding you in place.
“Gonna cum without asking? you’re getting ahead of yourself aren’t you puppy?” Renjun quipped, pulling you off Chenle to examine your dripping cunt. Puffy and wet from moments prior.
“Was gonna ask! I promise!” The two of them could almost scoff at your pathetic cries, trying to justify what had happened but instead, Chenle opts to pinch your nipples, making your body jolt and a yelp to sound in the room.
“Come on pup, get on all fours and show us the good puppy you are”
a/n: wrote this all very fast today sooo pls enjoy :)
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Chapter 29 of 'Artificial wingman'!
For the full story on ao3, click Here!
Enjoy!
---
Damian let the door shut quietly behind him, flipping the lock before he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Outside the bathroom, he could hear Jasmine and Danny playfully arguing about something mundane, their voices somewhat pleasant in terms of background noise. Jason had left not long ago, having said something about having some business that needed to be taken care of while he waited for their order to be filled.
He had sat in the living room, Danny's bag resting beside him, when something had caught his eye. Only now, alone in the bathroom, did he dare to take the pilfered object out of his pocket. a soft golden light engulfed his hands the minute he pulled it out, casting his face in a yellow glow when he brought it closer to examine.
The cure, a potion that cancels other potion effects on a person. In any other situation, he would find such a thing remarkable. Even now, he couldn't help but wonder if it would work on other magic-based effects, slightly in awe of how versatile it could potentially be. But that awe was tempered by the knowledge of what this jar was for in the first place.
He stared hard at the golden liquid, observing the way it swished and swirled in the jar, trails of what looked like a cross between glitter and stardust tracing hypnotic patterns in the thick solution. 'I could drink this right now,' the thought came unbidden, his fingers digging into the ridges on the lid slightly. Part of him wanted to. Wanted to twist the cap off and drain the contents. Wanted to prove, once and for all, that his feelings weren't just because of the potion.
Another part of him wanted to drop the jar like it had burned him. To throw the jar and watch the potion splatter uselessly onto the wall. Or swirl down the drain of the sink, any possible traces of it washed away by water, like it never existed. It couldn't have the chance to prove him wrong if it was gone, after all.
Damian did neither of those, instead sitting the jar down gently on the counter. Sighing, he allowed himself to drop his facade of calm and collectiveness. His shoudler's drooped with tiredness, his head dropping into his hands as he tried to sort out his feelings. Coming from an emotionally dysfunctional family didn't help him much when it came to feelings, but he tried his best not to fall back on his training.
He knew fear, it was a garantee to feel it at least once in a human life. But for a child assassin? Fear is something one becomes intimately familiar with. Maybe not his fear, but the fear of others. So he had little trouble identifying the fear that pushed forth the more... destructive ideas.
The determination and confidence that directly contradicted that fear were as much of a hindrance as they were helpful. Wilfulness is something that Damian had always displayed, even when he was loyal to his mother and Grandfather in the League.
Mother had always said that it was a trait from his father, a will of steel that kept his resolve for justice strong. Having lived with his father for a few years now, that wasn't hard to believe at all.
And now, in the midst of his conflicted feelings, he couldn't help but to fall back on that belief once again. It was different from suppressing his emotions, to instead focus all his being into the way he wished for things to turn out. If his will was half as strong as his father's, then Damian would have nothing to worry about. A little bit of fear wouldn't change thst.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his head from his hands and stood. The teen had no idea how long he had been sitting there on the edge of the tub, his legs tingling with the pins and needles feeling that always accompanied a loss of blood circulation. The apartment outside the bathroom had fallen quiet, only the chatter of the TV and the occasional shuffling of movement telling Damian that the siblings were still out there.
Picking the jar back up, Damian let his gaze trace the swirling golden patterns once more. He could drink it now, and be done with it. He could throw it and damn the consequences his actions would surely bring. But now was not the time for rash decisions. The most logical thing to do was to wait, and not force results. So for now, he would find a way to slip the jar back into it's poor hiding spot in Danny's bag, burried under the prizes from their arcade date, and enjoy the time he was given to spend with Danny. Because no matter if the potion worked or not, Danny would have to return home.
A knock on the bathroom door startled Damian from his thoughts, the teen fumbling with the jar as it slid from his hands. Heart pounding, his quick reflexes helped him re-capture the jar before it could smash on the tiled floor.
Breathing heavily, Damian stuffed the jar back into pocket and twisted the lock, throwing the door open. On the other side was Todd, his fist raised to knock again. The man blinked at him, lowering his fist to rest on his hip in a way that Brown would refer to as 'sassy'.
"There you are. You doin' okay, Demon brat? Danny said you'd been in there a while." Jason gave him a quick lookover, not moving from the doorway as he searched for possible hidden injuries.
Damian scoffed. "I am perfectly fine, Todd " He sniffed hauntingly as he shoved past the man, heading towards the living room.
"Alright, alright!" Todd tossed his hands up in the air in an exasperated manner following him down the hall. "Just making sure. It would suck if you died on me and left your boyfriend here all alone." Despite the teasing tone, Damian could detect the slight bit of serious concern radiating from him.
Before he could come up with a response that would calm his most volatile brother, Damian found himself in the living room. Danny turned around at the sound of their approach, a smile stretching his face and showing off a flash of those enticing fangs. "Robin!" He chirped excitedly. "Come sit down! Jason brought food back. I already put a vegetarian plate together for you."
Sure enough, as soon as Damian had settled onto the couch, Danny was shoving a plate of mouth watering food into his hands. The teen gave the plate an expiramental sniff before taking a bite, pleasantly surprised by the flavorful mouthful.
The teen couldn't help the small smile that quirked up his lips as he watched Danny dig into his own plate, his a mixture of both vegetarian and meat-ladened sides, though mostly vegetarian, with gusto. 'Yes,' he thought, taking another bite of his food, 'it was a good decision to hold off.'
The jar doesn't make to it's bag that night. Damian told himself that it was because Danny was too observant, that he would notice right away that something was out of place, no matter how meticulous Damian was with putting everything back. In reality, he ignored the fact that it was his own reluctance that kept the jar stashed in his pocket.
----
Back at the manor, Cass and Stephanie had begun phase one of 'Distract Dick, no matter the Cost'. Personally, Steph really liked the plan's name, but Cass insisted that it was a placeholder for the true name, still pending.
Steph crouched in the shadows, sight of her blocked by the wall she leaned against. The batcave itself was empty for the moment, Cass and Alfred having managed to spike Tim's decaf with melatonin and lead the boy up to one of the family rooms for a nap. But she knew her target would be here any minute
Sure enough, after ten minutes, Dick came Striding out of the locker room, nightwing suit snug across his chest as he made his way towards the corner she was hiding behind.
Taking a deep breath, Steph pulled her bowl away from her chest as she stood. Faking a jog, she waited until Dick began to round the corner before she struck. Purposely running into him, she let the bowl tip towards the man and slid from her fingers, dousing the blue and black of his suit in the most eye catching shade of pink she could whip up.
She let out a convincing shriek of surprise, forcing her feet to slide instead of catching herself. Landing on her butt, the girl was treated to the most amazing sight, a dumbfounded look on a bright pink Nightwing.
"Oh, god! Dick!" She stuttered in her hasty movements to get back up, selling the whole 'horrified Surprise' act even further. "I'm so, so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, and I was just gonna dye my hair in the sinks down here, 'cause Alfred threatened to make me scrub the upstairs sinks if I stained any of them bright pink, and- and- oh, I'm sorry!"
Her rambling apology seemed to snap him out of his stunned state, the man looking himself over for the fist time. "Hey, Steph, it's okay!" He grimaced when he saw the color, but tried to put on a calming smile as he reassured her. "It was an accident. We can just wash it out, m'kay?"
Steph almost couldn't believe how easy this was going. "Yes!" She exclaimed, tugging the man back towards the locker room. "Go and change out of it, and I'll get it clean in no time!" She didn't give the man much of a chance to protest, shoving him into the locker room and shutting the door behind him.
A few minutes later, and he had returned. Donning a t-shirt and jeans, he held out the costume for her to take. "I'll swing by later to pick it up, but for now I have to go and talk to some people." giving himself a once over, he nodded to her one last time before he made his way to the elevator.
She waited a few minutes, making sure that he was actually gone, before she took the elevator as well. Stepping out from behind the broken grandfather clock, she made sure the coast was clear before hurrying up the stairs and to one of the unused guest bathrooms.
Closing the door behind her, Stephanie turned and faced the silent girl that was already waiting for her. "Got it!" She smirks deviously, holding up the pink monstrosity that she had created. "How about you? Did you get the goods?"
Cass grinned back at her as she grabbed something from behind her. Turning back around, she proudly held up two complete nightwing suits for Steph to see.
"Nice!" Steph couldn't help but to laugh, already imagining the look on his face when he found all of his spares missing. "And you locked the storage room too?" Cass nodded her affirmation, miming a key locking before giving a thumbs up. "Perfect! Now that step one is done, I think we can safely move on to step two!"
Carefully, both girls peeked into the hallway, looking back and fourth for any wandering souls before declaring the coast clear. Moving with quiet efficiency that only a bat could accomplish, the pair made their way to a laundry room on the second floor. Honestly, Steph had no idea it was even here before, and would have just used the one down stairs, if not for Cass. Apparently, this laundry room was so seldom used that it was one of the places she went to when the hustle and bustle of the manor became too much.
Once the girls had reached their destination, Steph waisted no time in throwing the nightwing costume in the washer, purposely going against the washing instructions for their suits. Cold water instead of warm, a healthy dose of bleach, and about half a cup of the detergent that Alfred had told her was for their lounge wear only, instead of the one m0ade specifically for the kevlar- laddened fabric. Confident that the suit was probably done for now, she left her handiwork to finish on it's own. They still hand one last thing to do.
Turning to her partner in crime, Steph let her mischievous grin turn slightly more sinister. "Okay, now. Where can we hide Nightwing suits where they won't be found?" She asked, tucking the two spare costumes under her arm as she let Cass take the lead.
Walking confidently, the two wandered the mayor's maze of corridors, taking so many turns that Steph was sure her head would spin trying to remember them all. It's times like this that the girl is reminded how easy it would be to get lost in this place. How anyone could live gere without maps on the walls telling them where they are, Steph will never know.
After a few minutes of walking, they finally came to a stop in front of a closet. It looked like every other hallway closet they had passed, oak door with a shiny copper handle waiting to be opened and used as storage. There was nothing special about it, besides the fact that islt resided in a part of thr manor that usually went unvisited by anyone besides Alfred. And Cass, Steph supposes, because why else would she lead Steph halfway across the house when there were several perfectly usable closets on the way here?
She opened her mouth to ask the question on her mind, but Cass beat her to the punch. Pulling open the door, the raven haired girl crouched down and began to feel along the floor of the closet for something. Steph stepped closer, watching curiously as her fingers found purchas in a groove between the floorboards. With one swift move, she pulled upwards, the floor lifting with a low creak to reveal a small cavity hidden beneath.
Stephanie gasped in surprised delight, dropping to her knees beside Cass to examine the little hole. It was about three feet long, and two feet wide, forming a cute little cubby that ran only half a foot deep. The small space was empty, save for a few dust bunnies and a lone mothball rolled into the corner. It was perfect.
"Awesome find!" She praised her friend as she dropped the spare costumes in, letting Cass gently lower the panel back into place. Step two complete.
Standing back up, the girls dusted off their hands and knees before turning to head back to the laundry room. Their timing was amazing, as the washer cut off just as they passed the threshold.
Opening the washer, Steph was greeted by a bleach-splotched nightwing costume. None of the pink from the hair dye mixture surviced the wash, sadly, but it did an amazing job, turning the blue bird on the chest purple. Paired with the gray and tan-ish splotches decorating the shoulders and back, Steph was confident that it would be tossed into the storage room to gather dust with Discowing once this was all over.
Tossing the ruined costume into the dryer, Steph hopped up onto the slowly warming surface, kicking her legs happily. "How mad do you think Dick is gonna be when he finds out that this wasn't an accident?" She asked concersationally.
Cass brought her hand up to her chin, rubbing it contemplatively as she mulled over the question. Shrugging, she signed 'Probably not too mad. Not when he finds out it was for Damian's love life.'
Steph snickered, nodding. "Yeah, Dick is a huge softy. He'll probably forget all about this as soon as Damian tells him why. He always qets excited about these little milestones little Dami hits." She giggles again, the image of Dick fake swooning in front of Damian too funny for her.
Cass giggled quietly too, silently thinking about how Dick might get them back for this. While he would get distracted by Damian's love quest, he was not one to forgive and forget such actions. Sooner or later, the man would get his revenge on them, probably in an extremely embarrassing manner.
Cass couldn't wait.
---
(There might be some spelling/grammar mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)
To all the lovely people who follow along, and the awesome person who made the prompt for this story:
@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394
#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#batman x danny phantom#dead serious#danny phantom x batfam#danny phantom x damian wayne#love potion#miscommunication#long post#fic on ao3#artificial wingman#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp fanfiction#dp x dc
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ronancetober - day three: horror movie au [happy death day]
Nancy’s head is throbbing beyond belief, her mouth drier than she’d like, and she can feel an arm draped over her back. She’d never really been a “party girl,” not until the last semester of senior year of high school, when her entire life had exploded.
She’d stopped fucking Steve shortly thereafter, at least, and it’s that that makes her carefully open up one eye to try and assess the situation. As long as she isn’t in his dorm, Nancy can’t find it in herself to care whose goddamn room it is.
It isn’t Steve’s. Small victories.
There’s a few film posters on the walls, a record player balanced carefully on the desk amongst stacks of books and papers, and Nancy examines it all from her spot on the bed. There’s something familiar about it, but for the life of her, she can’t place what it is, and it irks her. It’s not until a soft huff sounds behind her that Nancy realizes exactly where she’s landed.
“Nance?” Comes the sleep-heavy voice of Robin Buckley, her philosophy 101 classmate. Nancy takes some relief in the fact that Robin sounds just as confused as she herself feels. Her classmate’s arms are warm and comfortable, a respite from the pain of Nancy’s hangover, but now that’s she more awake and aware, her instincts kick in. Nancy runs.
“Hey,” she says, aware of the placating note in her voice, “I have to get going— early morning and all. See you in class, alright?”
Robin is still blinking up at her when she slams the door behind her.
Her mother is calling— that’s not something Nancy is remotely interested in dealing with at the moment— probably to wish her a happy birthday, but the call will, as usual, quickly devolve into some condescension about how Nancy never calls. She directs it to her voicemail.
Nancy hates her birthday— it’s part of why she’d gotten so wasted last night— and how it always reminds her of spending the day with Barb, back at home. She’s not planning to celebrate at all today, honestly. She’s got no plans, despite the bill of goods she sold Robin as she ducked out. She might as well go distract herself and hang with Jonathan, at least see if that’ll stop her brain from hyperfocusing on her terrible life.
—
In the end, much as she loves him, spending the day with Jonathan does little to reset Nancy’s bad mood. Instead, she ends up lost in her head for the majority of it all, working herself up despite his best efforts. He offers to have her come back to his dorm, trying to entice her with the offer of a joint he’s stashed in his dresser, but Nancy can’t find it in herself to take him up on it. She tells him to enjoy himself, manages a wry chuckle at his lopsided grin as he assures her he very much will.
There’s something fitting about shuffling home to her own dorm alone, in the dark. The campus is quiet, save for a few sparse groups of tipsy co-eds, and Nancy feels herself finally relax for the first time that day.
And then she hears it: a scream.
Immediately, Nancy breaks out into a run. She’s lost a lot of her own sense of self-preservation, but she’ll be damned if she leaves someone else hanging out to dry.
No one is standing there— or laying there, in the fetal position, or anything— when Nancy rounds the corner. She cautiously takes a few steps further into the darkness, moving toward the sound. “Hello?” She calls, hearing her footsteps echo around the campus’s tunnel. On second look, while there may not be someone there, there’s certainly something— a small ceramic figurine, sitting in a sliver of light. Nancy squints. It’s a birthday party scene.
“Okay, this isn’t funny!” She calls, stepping further into the tunnel. “Steve? Carol? Tommy, this stinks of your shit.”
When she gets close enough, Nancy kneels down before the figure. It’s fucking creepy. Baby-faced figures sit around a cake, party hats pale and pastel in the way only old ceramic can ever be. “Jesus Christ,” she mutters, but as she reaches a finger to touch it, Nancy’s heart jumps to her throat.
There’s someone behind her. She’s certain of it.
She stands, staring down the figure as she turns to face them. They’re masked, a black hoodie covering the majority of their figure, and Nancy feels a small shiver go down her spine. The mask is that stupid fucking baby again, the horrifying mascot of the college.
“I’m not scared,” she says, loud and certain, though there is some private part of her that disagrees. “Whatever this is, some kind of joke or something, it’s not fucking funny or scary or whatever you’re aiming for. Just go home.”
The figure remains still.
“Did Tommy put you up to this?” She asks, falling back on her best guess once more. “Tell him you accomplished your goal, whatever the fuck it was, and leave.”
There’s another beat, and then the figure, as if agreeing with her, disappears around the corner.
Satisfied, Nancy continues her trek through the tunnel, assured no one is actually in danger. She can still feel the hair on the back of her neck standing up, though, and she finds herself turning every few feet, waiting for the baby-faced stranger to come running back into the tunnel. Nothing happens, and it strengthens her resolve some as she reaches the end of the path. A noise catches Nancy by surprise, but as she turns one more time to assess the situation, the only thing in the tunnel is still that stupid birthday figurine. She wants to kick it into pieces. Still, she turns back, determined to just head back to her dorm.
She feels stupid for not considering it sooner. The sound of two feet landing on the ground is Nancy’s only warning before the stranger is on her, not at her back, but face to horrifying cherubic face. It’s got a knife, Nancy realizes, and the best thing she has is the tote bag she tossed her wallet and keys in on her way to see Jonathan. Still, Nancy scrounges up some remaining amount of self-preservation from wherever it’s hiding in her body, and runs.
She runs like she’s never run before, but she’s neglected to do the math on how difficult it is to navigate a campus full of trees, fences, and random bulletin boards in the pitch black. Nancy’s foot catches on a ring of rocks around some plants and she falls. The college’s blue emergency lights taunt her from her position on the ground. She looks desperately around, but the assailant is nowhere to be seen. Nancy has only a moment to wonder if that’s better or worse before a stick cracks just behind her head, and she peers up to see the terrible large eyes of the mask staring back at her.
There’s something about the position that makes her so immediately, achingly aware she’s about to die. She barely has time to scream as the knife comes crashing into her.
Nancy jumps out of her skin at the sensation of a familiar pillow pressed beneath her cheek. What the fuck? She sits up immediately, pressing a hand to her chest where the knife slid between her rib bones. It’s not until she hears grumbling behind her that Nancy becomes aware, once more, of the shape of Robin Buckley at her back.
“Nance?” Robin asks, and her voice sounds just the same way it did yesterday. Last time. Whatever. Nancy flinches. “What’s wrong?” She adds this time, gentle and achingly sweet.
“Nothing.” Nancy hurries to reply. “Bad dream. That’s all.” Still, she follows her instinct, rushes out the same way as before. “I have to get going— early morning and all. See you in class, alright?”
Robin is still blinking up at her when she slams the door behind her.
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["Suddenly I can't lie beside you another moment. Tears from nowhere stream hot down my cheeks. In the bathroom I leave the light off, sit on the edge of the bathtub, double over in the moonlight. I rock against my confusion.
Anger. How dare you throw my universe into disarray! Just when I think I finally know myself! When I think I know you!
Fear. This is too much to ask of me. I can't bear this weight. It is impossible. I feel insane!
Betrayal. Who are you? Are you a butch only because there was no other choice? Am I really a lesbian? What does this mean? How can I be a femme if you are a man?
I want to scream at you. Hate you. Instead I stifle my crying in a towel until at last the tears come silent, flow gently. In the morning you find me curled on the couch in the living room. You hold me. Your eyes are so sad. You tell me how sorry you are.
For what? For being true to yourself? I don't want you to apologize for this. I don't know what I want!
I let you hold me, and it does feel better. But I berate myself for being so angry. For hurting you. I wish I could just get to the other side without going through the pain.
Every day I feel different. I drift in and out of anger and pride, excitement and fear. I grapple with monumental theories and insignificant— but suddenly important— consequences of your transition.
My greatest fear is of how this might affect my own sense of self. "Just don't ask me to be straight," I tell you. "It took me too much pain and time and struggle to come out queer, lesbian, and femme-proud. I can't go back." But you never step on or dictate my identity and for this I am grateful beyond words.
Instead you inspire me to look with courage at my self-definitions. I see how they are true to me. I also see how they sometimes limit me. Though they have often given me security and a means to self-awareness, I notice other parts of myself I have suppressed: the attraction I once felt for men, the desire I feel now for other femmes, the need to examine my own "othergenderedness."
Some days I feel very alone in the world, like the biggest "freak among the freaks," and I turn old internalized hatred upon myself. Other days I feel like part of an ancient, unspoken tradition, as one who is particularly "wired" to partner a transperson. I feel almost sacred.
Months pass quickly. Every time you bleed, you feel a little more insane, and I feel less able to be your safe harbor. We go to meetings, get to know other transmen and their lovers and wives. We search the Internet for surgeons. We figure out which credit cards can hold the weight of this surgery. Time eases pain, it is true. I love your breasts, but now I release this part of you so beautiful and mysterious to me. I am changing. Part of me beings to address this surgery with a note of erotic anticipation. I notice that much of my desire is linked to the disparity between your gender expression and your body. When you bind your breasts, pack a dick, when you wear a suit and tie, T-shirt and boxers, when you shift before my eyes from woman into man, I am aroused, excited beyond belief.
I relish the way you construct your gender despite the dictates this world links to your body, which further manifests your particular gender."]
Sonya Bolus, from Loving Outside Simple Lines, from Genderqueer: Voices From Beyond The Binary, edited by Joan Nestle, Clare Howell, and Riki Wilchins, Alyson Books, 2002
#sonya bolus#lesbian literature#trans literature#history stuff#gender stuff#queer mirroring anxiety manifesting in intimate relationships#if you no longer or never did mirror me then who am i <----- hero's journey
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OMG, I am so so so sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I understand now. Thanks for answering anyhow. Have a wonderful day/night.
It's okay. If I was offended or not isn't actually important here. This was a discussion about censorship, it's not about if I was upset. I'm having a hard time articulating why, but it feels to me like being worried if I'm offended more so than that you might need to rethink some things is tied to the same thing that led you to say the word "sex" was inappropriate without actually examining what that word is doing in my work or what my work is saying about it.
This isn't to bash on you (and I also urge my followers to not harass this person), I don't want you to feel attacked or shamed. I just think you may not have actually examined your beliefs, instead simply conforming to a new standard someone has set before you. I don't want you to just agree with me cause "not agreeing with me is wrong" or anything, I want you to actually sit down and ask "why do I believe that? Why would that be a harmful thing to believe? Should I believe something differently?" And thats something you do in private over a longer time period. Don't feel like you need to perform repentance, this isn't a space that demands repentance. I simply wanted to invite you to look at things from a different perspective.
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Cupid's Arrows
Hotel California
The old belief is that Cupid will strike you with an arrow to make you fall in love. These days due to scientific research, we know that love is actually caused by a complex chemical reaction in the brain… maybe.
Chapter One
Maybe they were looking for each other, maybe someone set them up, maybe they met purely by chance. They met on the subway, or in the office or just on the street or in a coffee shop, Wherever two people fall in love it is there that we meet Romance incarnate, their doe eyes sit above freckles scattered sparingly across their limestone colored face like stars in the light polluted sky. Multi-shaded brown hair cascades wildly about their head, coming to rest just above their shoulders.
Romance is carrying their half drunk iced coffee in one hand, the name on it says Rowan. As they walk into the coffee shops restroom they cross to the sink. After examining a spot above their cupids bow lips in the mirror they begin rubbing their eyes. At first, a few specks of pink eyeshadow fall into the sink but after a few seconds the particles of pink begin to fizz and spark as they fall, swirling around Rowan until all that’s left is the empty coffee cup that they had set on the counter.
Chapter Two
Rowan appears, not in the sky but in a plane that looks a lot like it. Vast, white marble floors extend as far as the eye can see interrupted by the occasional pillared temple opening onto the endless baby blue sky. They wear a polyester turtleneck with a heart-cutout below the neckline.
“Rowan! You’re back!”
Exclaims a young girl in a blue bow and frilly blue and white dress.
“Come on, Mr. C’s waiting for you!”
As she grabs Rowans hand and pulls them forward her other hand brushes the dirty blond hair out of her cerulean eyes and even though Rowan has had a long day, the girls energy is infectious and soon they are running together and giggling. Suddenly she stops, panting, and points Rowan to one of the temples. She walks away as they step forward.
In the temple, on a fold up chair, sits a devilishly handsome figure with sleek white hair pulled back into a stylish man bun. He is wearing Ray-bans and gold jewelry on top of his white tuxedo jacket and matching shirt. His feet are propped up on the long folding table so that you can see his heavy black leather boots and he is leaning so far back in his chair that Rowan is astonished he hasn’t tipped over.
“Well, you certainly took your sweet time,”
Mr. C surveys Rowan over the top of his sunglasses with piercing gold eyes,
“So did you make anyone fall in love?”
Rowan stands a little taller, trying to impress Cupid.
”Yes sir, twenty seven different couples, all European based but I’m planning on hitting the eastern countries tomorrow.”
“Ok? Will they stay together or what?”
“Well-”
“And you know, I’ve been thinking R, you pride yourself on your little matchmaking abilities but I don’t think it’s worth it, you’re severely behind your quota, if you ask me I think you should just start pairing anyone together.”
“But-”
“Also,”
As Cupid continues to berate Rowan a voice growls “I’d have expected you to be happier on your ‘special day’ Cupid.”
“A pleasure to see you too darling '' Mr. C retorts as he rolls his eyes and resumes his chair leaning.
“We’re all ready for your speech, so why don’t you give it instead of picking them apart.” Blaze growls again as he gestures towards Rowan.
One by one the temple fills with dazzling people who take their seats at the table: a small child wearing yellow overalls, a woman with an hourglass body in a tight purple dress, a man wearing a green and dark green checkered suit and finally the girl in blue comes bounding back in cheerfully and begins talking to the overalled boy.
“Everyone be quiet and sit down, ”Commands Mr. C in a loud, strong voice. Blaze mutters something under his breath as he leans against a pillar, picking at his black ripped jeans.
“Ah, you always were a rather pointy arrow weren’t you? Well, you may stay standing.
Moving on, as you all know today is my ‘special day’, Valentines Day. We celebrate every year and every year I am just so disappointed in all of you. Valentine's Day is about love, so why am I not feeling more love in the world? As my arrows you are a direct representation of my power. You should all be taking your jobs much more seriously than this. R is already behind his quota, Objective you’re not doing much better, Familial, there are families out there that hate each other. What are you doing all day?! Platonic, you’re slacking off too. Hate, Shallow, you two are fine but that’s not necessarily great for everyone else, keep doing whatever you’re doing. So…”
Chapter Three
It is about an hour and a half later that Rowan is sitting on his soft bed in his room picking over a piece of ripe melon that he hears a ‘rap-tap-tap’. As he opens his door he is surprised to see Cupid standing there.
“Hey R, can we talk?” Not waiting for an answer, he brushes past Rowan onto the bedside and moves the melon to a spot on the carpet.
“I know you’re technically done for the day but I had a thought and I was hoping you would hear me out?”
Cupid takes off his jacket and glasses, his appearance now contrasting his earlier confidence.
“I thought it might help you to have a larger quota, so that you can’t put too much effort into one couple. It might make you faster.”
Rowan sits on the bed next to him.
“Cupid- Mr. C, it’s not something that can be rushed, I am romance, it’s not something that just happens. It takes time and effort and I’m still matching a large amount of people everyday, about as much as the others.”
Cupid scoffs and says “You can handle it R, besides, it doesn’t actually matter wether the people like each other in the first place, you can just make them like each other.
“No, I really can’t.”
Distressed, Rowan stands up and turns to fully face Cupid,
“Everyone has a subconscious bias in who they love. All I do is bring it to the surface. While theoretically I could force two people in love, the two would be miserable.”
Cupids posture suddenly shifts, leaning forward slightly, looking up at Rowan with his beautiful aureate eyes “Would you do it for me though?”
Cupid stands up, only a few inches shorter than Rowan, he lets his hand brush theirs,
““We used to be so good together,”
Rowan breaths a deep sigh, unable to keep his checks from blushing. There had been a time when they had let their crush get the better of them and anything Cupid wanted was carried out. But as Rowan didn’t feel that way anymore. How could he ever love someone who wanted to control others the way Cupid did.
“I’m sorry Cupid- Mr. C, try asking Pheobe or Owen.” Cupid suddenly gets up and walks to the doorway.
“I’m sorry you feel that way R. Goodnight.”
Cupid snaps the door shut coldly and Rowan lays back in his bed feeling strangely numb. He must’ve dozed off because when he wakes up, it’s morning and the woman in the purple dress from the night before is standing in his doorway.
Chapter Four
“Rowan? What happened between you and Cupid? I saw him walking to the doorway and he wouldn’t say anything to me. I think he’s angry, you were the last person to see him…”
Rowan jolts upright. “Sylvia what do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said, Cupid’s leaving, he’s going somewhere.”
As soon as the words leave Sylvia’s mouth Rowan is running out the door to scan the nearby area for Cupid. Because of his white jacket, Cupid blends in perfectly with the endless white floor. Rowan runs to where he knows there is an entrance to earth and there he sees Cupid preparing to step through the golden doorway.
“Mr.C! Wait!”
“Hmm? What’s all the fuss about R?”
Rowan uses his body to block Cupid from the door, trying in a desperate attempt to make himself heard.
“I’m sorry about last night, that’s what you want to hear right? I can’t help my nature, you made me this way but maybe I can work on it?”
Cupid sneers, his voice suddenly becoming malicious and cutting. “Oh, Romance, I should have done this a long time ago, but what a fool I was.”
Cupid turns his head up as if he can’t even look at Rowan and with a careless flick of his wrist, Rowan feels a force like a charging bull slamming into him, knocking him through the doorway and onto earth.
#cupids arrows#CA#writing#writers on tumblr#writeblr#my writing#writing community#writers#currently writing#creative writing#romance arrow#romance
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CHOUJIN X, CHAPTER 35 THOUGHTS.
Chapter 35 shows Tokio’s separation from his friends, and the themes of nihilism Ishida weaves into his manga. The central conflict between Tokio and his best friend Azama early on where one of them is referred to as the vulture and the other the lion is a reference to Nietzsche’s philosophy. The lion in particular is one of the three metamorphoses Nietzsche lists in Thus Spoke Zarathustra. In this chapter, Tokio is embarking on his journey through those three metamorphoses which symbolize the three stages of life and development.
1. The Wilderness
Thus spoke Zarathustra is a work in which Nietzsche expounds upon several of his key concepts, including the superman, self-overcoming, and nihilism. The main theme of Thus Spoke Zarathustra is the portrayal of values as either creative and life-affirming, or ascetic and conformist.
The basic idea Nietzsche puts forward in his work is that all ideology, rules and morality of any given society are created rather than inherent. Which means morals and laws and commandments don’t come from gods, they come from human beings. They are the inventions of human beings and enforced by human beings.
Nietzsche’s idea that there’s no inherent morality isn’t suggesting that morality doesn’t exist, or that there are no rules therefore you can do whatever you want, but just that you should not blindly follow the rules. Nietzsche refers to Christianity as the “old morality”, which someone has to shed away in order to be someone who can create their own morality.
Which is why Choujin X primarily being a superhero manga, where characters with super powers fight villains, follow the law and save people as heroes of justice is such a good place for a Nietzschean dissection of morality.
From the start Tokio is identified as a character who basically has no ideals, he begins the manga making no decisions for himself, and just copying whatever Azama does.
Azama is a believer of justice unlike Tokio, who puts a lot of work into studying and martial arts because he believes in his own personal justice. Azama’s introduction in the manga is even the classic saving a woman from a thug attacking her scenario that’s featured in many comic book superhero stories, but what’s important about that scene is TOkio is the one who stumbles upon the woman in trouble and even though he knows he should do something he just sits there and watches waiting for Azama to come help. That says a lot about Tokio’s character, he has no morality or ideals he fights for he’s just a shallow copy of Azama’s ideals.
If the central theme of Choujin X is what Choujin do with their superhuman powers, then Tokio despite suddenly being given power and more power than Azama. Yet, Tokio stays the same old pathetic and indecisive person.
Which is why Tokio needs to go through these stages of metamorphoses, because up until this point in the manga he still had not developed any ideals of his own and instead borrowed from both Ely and Azama at the same time. He was still following the old values. Which makes sense why his separation from Ely and Azama is necessary for his growth into his own individual.
Nietzsche’s three metamorphsoes parallel in Thus Spoke Zarathustra follows three stages. The camel, the lion, and the child. The first stage begins with the camel is suddenly burdened. Nietzsche gives several examples of what those burdens are, but it all boils down to self-examination.
“Why is it heavy? So asketh the load-baering-spirit; then kneeleth it down like the camel, and wanteth to be well laden. What is the heaviest thing, ye heroes? asketh the load-bearing spirit, that I may take it upon me and rejoice in my strength.” (Thus spake Zarathusra).
It’s hard to think for yourself, and it’s easy to follow others. This is the state Tokio was in just before he was told of his potential destiny as the one to stop the destruction of Yamato.
He’s still chained to another person’s belief system. Which is why while Tokio disappearing from Azama and Ely’s life is a little bit selfish and hurtful, it’s also something that was probably necessary for Tokio’s development as an individual.
Nietzsche states the thing that camel does to move onto its next development is to separate itself from others and retreat into the wilderness.
“All these the heaviest things the load-bearing sprit taketh upon itself; and like the camel, which when laden, haseneth into its wilderness.”
(Thus Spake Zarathustra)
Which mirrors the necessary journey that Tokio akes this chapter, to venture into the wilderness and separate himself from others so he can become strong and independent enough to carry his own burdens. In response to Tokio suddenly realizing that he has great power and potentially a great destinty to save Yamato as a choujin and because of that he needs to become someone responsible enough to carry those things.The next phase is the lion.
Which is most likely the stage Azama is at right now. At the stage of the lion , you begin to create your own morality.
All values have already been created, and all created values - do I represent. Verily, there shall be no “I willl” any more. Thus speaketh the dragon, My brethren, wherefore is there need of the lion in the spirit? Why sufficeth not the beast of burden, which is renounceth and is reverent? To create new values - that even the lion cannot yet accomplish: but to create for itself the freedom for new creating - that can the might of the lion do. To create itself freedom, and give a holy Nay ecen unto duty;for that, my brethren there is need of the lion.
(Thus Spake Zarathustra)
Therefore, Azama who already has his own convictions and idea of justice was already at this stage, whereas until this point Tokio was only ever playing catch up to him.
We see the chapter end with Tokio’s journey into the wilderness, because he needs the might of the lion to begin to create his own values and think for himself. The third stage would be child, where Tokio is essentially reborn as a new person, his own person rather than a shallow copy of other people.
Which is why the ultimate goal in this manga is to become a “Choujin” (the direct translation of this word in Japanese is superman), which relates to the nietzschian idea of the ubermensch.
Nietzsche puts forward we follows these stages of metamorphosis i order to create the ubermensch or superman. Having gone through an old morality, creative spirits can shed the influence of others and ultimately create a new way of being in the world. Such a new being would involve not only a new perspective, but a new set of values with their own rationale.
“There was it also where I picked up from the path the word “Superman” and that man is something to be surpassed. THat man is a bridge and not a goal - rejoiciing over his noontiedes and evenings, as advances to new rosy dawns.” Thus Spake Zarathsutra
Tokio’s journey into becoming the superman has nothing to do with becoming the smartest or the strongest, but learning to be his own person and think for himself without following others.
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Challenger’s Puzzle
Prompt: Puzzle
Au: Pokemon Au
Characters: Hatake Kakashi & Sai (yes i know i forgot to give him his name but it’s sai i promise)
Words: 1,495
@kakashiweek
3 minutes and 22 seconds. A new record.
Kakashi had never seen anyone weave their way through his gym maze and locate Chimecho in her chosen hiding spot in such a quick amount of time.
There was just one problem with it.
“Do it again,” he spoke firmly, barley looking up from his book as Jolteon lay across his legs happily napping.
“I’m sorry?”
“Do it again,” he repeated as he flipped to the next page. “And this time take out your pokemon.”
“Take out my pokemon?” Kakashi expects anger. Every trainer to date who had to be given those same instructions always yelled at him for suddenly adding a new requirement, even though there was a warning at the front of the gym stating that the challenge had to be completed with their aid of one of their pokemon. What he gets instead is Confusion.
Complete, genuine confusion.
Lowering his book he examined the kid standing in front of him. Tall, dark haired and so pale that Kakashi could swear he could disappear into snow without issue.
Not the usual hot headed trainer he found at his gym doors.
“There’s a sign at the front door,” waving his hand to the side, he watched as the kid narrowed his eyes. “Says the gym challenge is to be taken with one of your pokemon. It can be your first pokemon, or a pokemon you’ve bonded with more than any other. I don’t really care which Pokemon you choose but you need to choose one of them.”
“Why?”
Kakashi stared at the kid, weighing his next response in his kind. He could go the usual cold, aloof route but this didn’t seem like a question that was being asked out of malice or anger.
It was genuine. His challenge had somehow confused the kid and a proper explanation was required so that is what Kakashi would give him.
Snapping his book shut he set it off to the side and gave his full attention to the challenge for the first time since he’d walked through the gym doors.
“The challenge is to work with your Pokemon to find Chimecho,” hearing her name, Chimecho floated toward Kakashi and settled around his shoulders, he ribbon curling loosely around his neck. “You’re meant to let your Pokemon lead the way. To shoe you where to go and listen to anything they may try to tell you with movement or noise.”
not everyone was able to understand the assignment, but Kakashi didn’t need his challengers to get it perfect. An honest effort at teamwork was all he really wanted to see. As long as that effort was there the actual teamwork could be improved upon.
“But i-“
Kakashi held up a hand to silence the kid. “You found Chimecho,” he confirmed, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips when Chimecho rubbed herself against his cheek. “Without the aid of a Pokemon. You would have been told at the entrance that you needed to do the challenge with the aid of one of your pokemon, correct?”
“Yes.” The challenger answered without hesitation.
“Yet you chose to keep your Pokemon inside of its ball and do the challenge without it?”
“I didn’t need it help with the challenge.” there’s a confidence in his words that sets Kakashi on edge. A confidence that he has heard before, long ago when he was still a brand new trainer himself working on his gym challenge. Squinting, he could almost see Yamato standing in the kids place with wide bright eyes and a head full of terrible beliefs from his so called ‘guardian’.
Closing his book he used it to gently bonk Jolteon on the head and smiled when she glared up at him. “Sorry, I need to get up,” with a huff and a slight roll of her body, Jolteon plopped down onto the floor in front of Kakashi and splayed herself up with her belly exposed. “Ah, yes. Of course.”
Rather than getting to his feet as he had originally planned, Kakashi shoved himself up just enough so that he was sitting on the tips of his feet and placed a hand on Jolteon’s belly. “You may not have needed help,” he spoke, his eyes focusing on the challenger while he gave Jolteon her much desired belly rubs. “But the point of the challenge is to complete it with your Pokemon.”
His words were met with a blank stare. There was no argument, no anger, and not even a hint of annoyance. Just an expressionless face that stared at him as if waiting for further explanation.
“Let me guess,” he gave Jolteon one final pat on the stomach before finally standing to face his challenge. “Pokemon are a tool, not a friend?” hearing those words from someone else’s mouth was bad enough, but saying them himself made Kakashi want to wrech. They were vile, cruel words that he always hoped he’d never have to hear again but always found himself listening to at least once a year when the newest batch of Pokemon trainers found their way to his gym.
He wasn’t sure why, but his gym seemed to attract some of the worst trainers. They weren’t bad because they were weak, since it would be impossible for them to even challenge his gym is they were incapable of beating the seven other gyms ahead of him.
No, they were the worst because of their beliefs.
Pokemon were meant to be their friends. Their companions in their journey, helping them achieve their goals. Anyone who considered such lovely creatures as a ‘tool’ was scum in Kakashi’s mind.
“Fine,” he glanced down at Jolteon. “You can have a battle.”
Surprise crossed over the trainers face for a second before settling back into that same blank expression he’d worn since he first entered the battle area. “So, I don’t have to go back?”
Waving away the question, Kakashi turned his back to the kid and began making his way towards his side of the battle field. Every step he took Chimecho rang her bell, cheering him on in her own special way. “Someone like you isn’t going to learn anything if I just send you back out there and force you to take out a pokemon,” that was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. “You get three Pokemon.”
“So a Three Vs Three battle?” Kakashi couldn’t help but laugh at the question. “Is something funny.”
Stopping, he pointed down at Jolteon. “I’ll have one,” he clarified. “You will have three.”
“That… doesn’t seem like much of a challenge.”
Taking the final few steps toward his spot, Kakashi turned back towards the kid and smiled. A small, warm smile that he remembered offering to Yamato the first time they properly faced each other in battle. There had been a lot more on the line in the battle, as Yamato had decided to use the venasaur Kakashi gifted him to ‘prove’ that Pokemon were tools to be used, but it wasn’t any more important than this one.
“Every Pokemon is precious,” he explained as Jolteon took her place on the field. “A trainer who views their Pokemon as a tool can have the best strategies available to them, and they’ll still lose to a trainer who treats their Pokemon with the respect that they deserve.”
“Yet, here I stand,” the challenge argued even as he took his place and selected one of the Pokeballs noff of his belt. “I have all seven previous gym badges to prove that I have beaten every gym leader before you.” Kakashi laughed again, this time a bit brighter. It was a funny thought to him, a kid thinking that he had beaton Yamato and Gai when they were going all on a match. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” he answered, his smile only growing when the kid narrowed his eyes. “They were going easy on you.”
It was their job, after all. As Gym leaders they were meant to test new trainers, not beat them so badly that they never wanted to battle again. It was the one thing that everyone could agree made Kakashi a bad gym leader.
He had the skills of a gym leader and the patience required to teach new trainers who wanted to learn from him, but unlike the others Kakahsi didn’t hold back. He didn’t go all out, but he often didn’t need to. A new trainer with less than five years of experience was unlikely to present him with any real difficulties in battle.
Thankfully there were actually more than Eight gyms in the region, because otherwise the yearly league would be rather boring because of Kakashi’s refusal to go easy on new trainers.
“One vs three,” he repeated, holding up each of his hands with the respective number of fingers extended for emphasis. “You think you can handle that?”
“Easily,” his challenger confirmed before throwing his Pokeball out. “Smeargle, I choose you!”
#Pokemon Au#Hatake Kakashi#It’s supposed to be Sai as the challenge#but… i forgot to give him his bame#so…#ya#sorry#Kakashi Week 2023#Kakashi Week
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True Detective: Shadow Land
Part 2: The Tired And The Hurt
Tw: everything, child death, r@pe PTSD
Also on my ao3!
August 3, 2024
Liz always works on Saturdays. She had nothing else to do but paperwork and telling the folks in jail to shut up and they’ll be out in no time, and to be honest she could never admit it, but she enjoyed it, doing paperwork. She really liked peace and quiet. Except when it isn’t, and the case is fucked beyond belief. Danvers was a hard person to navigate. The only things keeping her sane were Leah and Evangeline.
She was finishing writing up a report when Leah came into her office upset asking questions Liz did not have answers to. “I don’t know Leah! We don’t have any idea why it’s happening. The feds don’t get here till Thursday for whatever reason!”
“Well actually do something instead of writing up shit!”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to get in trouble. I ain’t losin’ this job, Leah-”
“You do unlawful shit with Evangeline all the time?!”
“Go home Leah!”
Leah slammed her office door which made everyone including Pete to look into the office windows. This wasn’t uncommon for their relationship to be like this but it was very much more critical than anything, even the pollution of the mines. Children were missing. Native children, and the entire town seemed to hate her, for a good reason, the affairs and all, but that didn’t mean she doesn’t know how to do her job.
Liz opened her door and made a hand gesture to Navarro who was sitting on one of the chairs in the lobby part. Looked back at everyone who was staring at her. “Stop looking at me and get back to work!”
Navarro came and sat down without a second thought.
“Find anything?”
“No…our examiners are still going through each one of where the kids were last seen. Although I got something for you.” Liz smiled, opening up the one drawer of her desk. “Stand up.”
Navarro didn’t need to be told twice. “Do I want to know?”
Liz held out a badge from the department towards her. “This is for your outstanding dedication from the Tsalal case, Sergeant Navarro.”
Evangeline took it into her hand, running her thumb over the insignia. “Liz, why? You’re going to get in trouble for this-”
“Ange, don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do. You deserve it. Plus I know how miserable the trooper position can be okay?” Liz put on her black uniform jacket and walked towards the door.
“Liz-”
“Just go with it. We have missing kids for christ sake. Get your shit and meet me in the car outside.”
Navarro went to the supply closet and Liz went over to Pete’s desk. “Anything?”
“I was just about to tell you. You’re right about it being pure hydrogen peroxide. It was most definitely used to clean up the blood, but they said they have no idea how much there was. No cameras, no nothing from the community.” Pete handed her a chunky manila folder. “This is everything on the registered sex offenders within that 15 mile radius, if that's what you're thinking.”
The gears in Liz’s head were turning. “Send some folks to go knock on houses. Ask if they saw anything. I’m going to check out more of that Lawrence house, see if there’s anything. Did they take anything from it?”
“Shouldn’t of, because we have limited space to hold evidence.”
Liz grunted and grabbed her keys. “These people could have gone anywhere in the state, the probability of them being within that 15 miles is low. Or maybe they aren’t even in the state…”
“Ask the right questions, Liz.”
Liz hit his shoulder with a fille folder. “You don’t get to ask the questions with me you little shit.”
“Alright alright! Oh…Evangeline ate your sandwich earlier.” Peter smirked.
“Of course she did.”
***
Liz started the car and tossed the empty sandwich bag into the Sergeant’s lap. “I promote you and you eat my fucking sandwich? I fed you last night, right? You're not helpless.”
“I threw up last night.”
Liz paused and turned to her, feeling bad about the comment. Navarro’s face was pale like she saw a ghost. Liz made sure she was giving her full attention to her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Was it the food-”
“I had a vision a few nights ago Liz…”
“So, just nightmare shit? I’m not trying to minimize it just…”
“No, my nightmares never get this bad. I was looking for Clark again, except, this time when I went outside, you were leaning against Clark's body, just there in the snow…just motionless, breathing in puffs. There was blood…” Navarro leaned her elbow on the window and held up her head, her voice cracking. She sniffles.
Liz's eyes grew bigger, she didn't know how to react.
“So much blood…” She let her tears fall. “You looked at me…you were holding your own heart in your hand, Liz.”
The woman stared at her with tears forming in her ducts. She gulped. Her teeth gritted together. She turned away and started the car, put it into drive, and drove out onto the dirt road.
“I don't have time for this. This fucking bullshit. I moved on! Pete moved on! I moved on- w-why can’t you, huh? What happened at Tsalal was fucking terrible but at least I have the balls to fuck off and put it behind me!”
Liz sped down the dirt path not even looking at her partner for a while. Eventually, Evangeline broke the silence, whipping the wetness from her eyes.
“Not everyone takes the darkest shit that happens to them and shoves it deep down instead of taking care of the issue, Danvers! Yes, it took you a decade to let Holden go but you did get there and you’ve been doing better because of that.”
“How would you know? You weren’t fucking there. I waited a little bit each day thinking one day you’d show up with something good to say. Instead, I get news there’s missing Native kids all around this fuckin’ place.”
“Holden loved you Liz and you know that.”
“Leave him out of this or I swear I’ll punch you right fucking here-”
“Do it. It won’t make your problems go away. He’s watching you, Liz. He sees you like this.”
The other woman pulls to a stop, not even going over it. Liz’s face was pale, her pupils bigger than normal. She tried her hardest not to let her emotions get the best of her, but she failed. A single drop ran down her cheek. Navarro wanted to get rid of it for her. Instead of going to do that, Liz turned her whole body to her, giving her the full attention that was needed. She gulped and spoke through her thin lips, the corners being pulled with defiance.
“I failed him. He would not want the person I became after.”
Liz took off her two layers of gloves on her left hand and reached over to brush against Navarro’s cheek. She knew she could continue when the younger woman didn’t flinch. Navarro stared into those beautiful blue eyes of hers, they always had a shimmer to them but at this moment the sparkle was clouded by the pain from her heart that still held onto Holden. Liz’s hand was warm on her face, her thumb rubbing her skin repeatedly. Navarro yearned for Danvers since the beginning, but with the constant fighting and dominance over cases over who does what, their mindsets being drastically different, it never took off.
“You’re who I wish I was.” Liz said gently with a soft smile. Her hand lingered on the younger one’s cheek. “And more.” She gulped and when she went to remove her hand, Evangeline put her own on top of hers.
“You’re all you need to be. You just need help picking yourself back up. Just because you’ve done bad things, doesn’t make you a bad person.”
Navarro let Liz take her hand away. Liz made an “o” shape with her mouth and took Evangeline’s hand, kissing her fingers and breathing hot air onto them. “You’re my heart.” Her face lit up with a cute smirk.
“Aren’t you a smooth talker?”
“You’re freezing. Let’s check out our places, huh?”
When they arrived at the scene. They separated. Danvers went into the forest with the entire APF, while Navarro stayed at the Lawrence house with Gavin’s mom. Liz was drawn deeper and further into the sea of trees as a voice called her, which led to the voice showing her Gavin’s already decaying body. Liz was 2 miles out from the house, and the atmosphere grew dry and cold. She hyperventilated as she spoke into her walkie strapped to her coat.
“This is Chief Danvers, 10-55d. Oh god-”
The longer she looked the worse her body reacted, she was practically dry-heaving by the time they arrived at her position. Her thoughts raced as images of the corpse didn’t leave her head. She’s seen dead children several times, including her own, and it always hit her the worst.
Danvers watched from behind the double-sided mirror, watching the autopsy right before her eyes. She wiped up the tears right away trying to not relate the situation to Holden’s in any way.
“He seemed to suffer from Hyperhidrosis right before passing. Extreme bruising on the collarbones, which both are broken. Fellatio was performed on the boy’s anus-”
As Liz listened to the static words that came from the other side of the barrier between her and the autopsy. She felt nauseous, even though she, out of all people could not handle it. Danvers looked away and walked at a quick pace to the door.
“When it’s over and done with, send the info to everyone at the station. Tell Seargent Navarro she’s dismissed for the day.” She said to the officer standing next to the doorway. Liz yanked the metal door open and rushed past the several medical personnel, and officers from the station. They wanted answers and looked at her like she had them. The corners of her lips twitched and her breathing grew uneven. She exited the building and went straight for the SUV, not caring that it was pouring like crazy. She slammed the door shut and watched her breath ease out into the cold atmosphere. The hurt woman sobbed into the steering wheel.
“Where’s Danvers!” Navarro raised her voice at the guarding officer.
“Ma’am, once again, I cannot give out that information.”
“I am the Chief’s partner. You tell me where she is or I’ll have you suspended. Choose wisely.” The man sighed and rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know where she went but people are saying she went home, also she told me to tell you you’re dismissed for the day. She looked like shit and I think she’s sick-”
Evangeline sighed and rushed out the door. Putting her hood on, covering herself from the harsh rain that soon turned into sleet. Cold and wet. She slammed on the gas and went down the highway. Even at the wiper’s fastest speed, the sleet still disrupted her vision of the road. She thought of every possible thing Liz could be doing right now. She didn’t know which one of those things she would end up choosing but either way, Liz would be fucked.
If there was one thing Navarro wished for, out of everything, was to take away Liz’s pain if she could. Wanting to rid her of that terrible weight left a dent in both of them at the end of each day. Navarro didn’t know if she regretted disappearing or not, she enjoyed being away, but not from Liz. Liz was her person. A single star in the dark night sky. Evangeline didn’t want that light to die out.
Navarro turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. There was a soft warm light illuminating from Liz’s windows. She had to be home because her car was there. As she went up to open the door she noticed that it was cracked open for anyone to come in.
“Liz?”
“Here.”
Navarro could tell she was tired by her voice cracking. She was presented with a musky smell when she entered the dimly lit house. She saw Danvers’ discarded clothes leading her through the hallway. Liz was slunched over on her sofa naked as a baby pouring another glass of vodka.
“Liz what the fuck!”
“Why are you here?” She asks acting slap-happy.
Navarro tosses her the discarded shirt. “Everyone was alarmed because of how you left the fucking place and I have nowhere else to go- can you cover yourself up?”
“Sorry, wasn’t expecting visitors.” She laughed. Her hair looked wet and filthy.
“How much have you had.”
“Mmm…I don’t know.”
“Okay, you’re done-”
“Take it away and it won’t be good for you.”
“How can I convince you?”
“I don’t fucking know. Give me a reason.”
“Leah.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m dead serious, what if she walked in here and saw her mom drunk and naked-”
“Fine. Turn around.”
Navarro complied. “ I heard what happened.”
Liz scoffed. “Then you can figure out how much I’ve had…I can’t even think about it. She headed towards her bedroom where she changed into some sweats again. “It’s worse, physically, than what happened to Annie K…”
“Do I get to listen to the tape?”
“I wouldn’t let you do that to yourself under good consciousness. If you truly want to-”
“It’s my job, Liz, I need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“I’m not going to force you to do anything. It’s all up to you- but please, the photos they’re-”
“I understand.”
Liz flopped belly-first onto the mattress and turned over to see Navarro. The taller woman standing over the edge of the bed. “You’re staring. I know I know I’m so irresistible.”
“You’re so fucking drunk.”
“I am for sure I guess but at least I’m a functional alcoholic.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes. “That’s not- Goodnight Danvers!”
“Wait.” Liz reached for her wrist and held it gently. She didn’t want her to go. For neither of them to be alone again all cold and scared. “…stay, please, if it’s no trouble.”
Somber memories of them came into Evangeline’s head. Back to shaking Liz, praying she would stay awake. Holding her head like a baby, each tap she gave her frozen face reminded her of the time going by each second. Evangeline took her hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. She didn’t even bother changing, she just removed her coat and boots and laid on top of the covers with Liz. They faced each other and locked eyes for a while. “I have no one.” A minute goes by with them looking at each other in silence. “You’re everything to me…”
“I’m scared of losing you too. You’re still a pain in my ass sometimes but…you’re a part of my family, and whatever happens on this case going forward- just- we know it’s not going to go well. Shit is definitely going to happen to us. Let’s just, take care of each other okay? You check up on me…I baby your drunk ass?”
Liz thought she was so beautiful, she was jealous in a way, mostly admiration, smooth youthful skin, everything. She compared her to a blooming flower in her head. Its pedals so vibrant. Liz chuckled. “I haven’t had one drink since the beginning of June so I think I’m doing well all things considered. What about you?”
Evangeline loved Liz’s face, her neck, the wrinkles from a long life wearing it proudly. Her crow’s feet by her soft eyes. She was a tough cookie for sure, but during times like these, she was as delicate as paper-thin glass. The slightest pressure and she could break. “Not since a week ago.” She smiled back to giving her full attention to Liz’s ice blue eyes.
2:07am
First, she couldn’t feel her face. When she walked out into the long bright dark that was the first thing she felt. Searching for her partner, she felt shitty enough for the whole thing. Now she knew if she chose to do anything she would be guilty for the rest of her life, carrying that guilt on her back.
“Navarro!”
Nothing, no answer, no one in sight. When she blinked she instantly found herself under the ice, taking water into her lungs and feeling them get filled up, no hole in the ice. Not being able to kick herself higher. She gave up trying, there was nowhere to go anyway. She stopped moving, letting the earth take her anywhere. She opened her eyes to take it in only to find Holden under the water with her kicking and struggling, she tried to get over to him, the darkness eventually taking them deeper and deeper into the void, getting to hold him one last time before it all went dark.
Liz woke up with a shake being given to her shoulder, gasping when her eyes opened and she was back on the ground in reality.
“Liz! Are you okay?”
Liz grunted, shifting herself to be on her back. Navarro’s hand still lingered on the soft olive-patterned skin of her forearm. She sat up throwing her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her eyes. She sniffled. “I’m fine…”
“Liz…”
“I’m fine.”
Evangeline knew she couldn’t pry anything out of her. The only thing she could do was maybe with a little poke get into her mind. They both had nightmares but Liz never wanted to admit it or talk to anyone about them. “You were saying things, Liz. You were scared.”
“Go back to sleep. Long day tomorrow.”
***
Liz wiped the cold water dripping down her chin from the glass of ice she was drinking. The back of her shirt was stained with sweat. She was overheated and couldn’t get Gavin out of her head. Evangeline walked into the kitchen looking at her leaning against the counter. “You want to tell me what’s going on since you clearly aren’t sleeping worth a shit?”
Liz scoffed once again. “It was Holden again. I was back outside searching for you. I called for you. Ended up back under the ice, something holding me down. I was okay under there. I let myself go because I couldn’t pull myself up. It was peaceful. Then Holden was there, I tried to save him. I could feel him again…I held him-”
Liz placed the glass down and sniffed again. “I lost him 12 years ago it shouldn’t crush me like this. I can- I can feel too much but I wish it’d go away-”
The younger woman walked over to her and embraced her with a tight hug, she towered over Liz, one hand holding the back of her head, her thumb rubbing the nape of her neck gently. Liz breathed in the homey scent from her t-shirt.
“There are things that are weighing you down. You need to befriend them.”
There was a minute of silence shared. Just holding each other in comfort. Liz’s breathing settled down after a bit. She looked up at Evangeline. “Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me.” She twitches her nose. “You stink.”
“I know.”
#true detective night country#true detective#true detective shadow land#liz danvers#evangeline navarro#liz danvers x evangeline navarro#danvarro#jodie foster#kali reis#my fic
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"Did you enjoy our little demonstration?" the sa'varsh asks with a cool smile as the boy's body is dragged away. "A mere taste of the power Vlaakith commands."
Rakha raises and lowers one shoulder in a half-shrug. She did enjoy it, yes - or at least that dark thing that lives inside her did - but she doesn't feel the need to explain that to this man. "Why was the boy refusing to fight?" she asks instead.
It's a serious question - her usual hunger for facts to build up an image of the situation, piece by piece - but the sa'varsh hears something else in it, for he stiffens defensively.
"I have no interests in whatever delusional beliefs the boy harbored," he snaps. "The illithids infecting this region are not to be reasoned with. They are to be exterminated. If the boy was too stupid to realize this, his death is a mercy for the warrior next to him."
Rakha thinks this over in silence as the sa'varsh walks away. The words don't quite mesh in her head with the question she asked. Delusional beliefs. As near as she can tell, the boy only did not want to die - which is perhaps cowardly in gith culture, but delusional?
He mentioned something, though, just before the sa'varsh sentenced him to the duel. A word, or perhaps a name, clipped off and interrupted. "Orph--"
There is something more here she does not understand. The boy believed something counter to his sa'varsh's teachings, and that is why he refused to fight - and why he died.
She walks over to the boy's body where it still sits in its own blood at the edge of the training hall. No one seems to care when she bends down and examines the corpse. There's a small piece of githyanki slate in his pocket, like the ones carried by the patrol out in the pass. Tir'su, Lae'zel called it. Githyanki writing.
"To the Inquisitor at the creche," Lae'zel insists impatiently. "The zaith'isk's failure must be reported."
Rakha snaps back to herself. She realizes she's been sitting there next to the boy's body for some minutes, lost in the smell of the blood and the curious mystery of the slate. She straightens abruptly and stands up.
Ask Lae'zel about the disc from the creche.
Narrator: The disc appears in your mind's eye. Lae'zel sees it too and considers the vision.
(A/N: This is designed so that you could have the conversation without having Lae'zel have been there for the initial acquisition of the slate but it's pretty funny in context here because Rakha you could definitely just GIVE it to her. Maybe this is part of Rakha's ongoing campaign to convince everyone that slurping the worms is a good idea. "See, you get VR versions of all our loot acquisition!")
"Tir'su markings. Ancient. I recognize them, but I can't make sense of -- no, wait." Lae'zel's eyes narrow in concentration, focusing on the image of the slate in her mind. "The texts are enciphered, but there's a Commonspeech translation beneath, carved in a different hand. It's a story about- about Orpheus."
Narrator: Your head buzzes in concert with Lae'zel's, but it hardly matters. Even without the connection, you'd recognize her discomfort.
Rakha watches Lae'zel's expression carefully. The young warrior is still flustered and angry at the explosion of the zaith'isk - and, Rakha is sure, still suffering significant pain from what it did to her. But this slate the boy was carrying has troubled her in a different way.
Rakha doesn't want to care. Part of her is still angry at Lae'zel for how this has all played out. She's furious that all the confidence Lae'zel displays has been misplaced, and humiliated that she bought into it so without question.
But... she does care, regardless. It bothers her that Lae'zel has that troubled look on her face. This doesn't make sense, but it is so, all the same.
"You look uneasy," she mutters gruffly. "Are you all right?"
Lae'zel stiffens irritably. "I am fine," she mutters. "The slate is not. This text is heresy. I can hardly bear to read it, let alone speak it."
Heresy. Something relating to Vlaakith, then - or to an enemy of her. Is that why the boy did not want to fight on the sa'varsh's orders? He follows an enemy of Vlaakith?
This already tells Rakha more than she knew previously. There are factions, then, of the githyanki. Lae'zel's intense devotion to Vlaakith is not universal.
"That's fine," she says with a slight shrug. "I'll read it on my own time."
Lae'zel shifts her weight uncertainly; for a moment Rakha thinks she wants to discuss it further, in spite of her reservations. Then she shakes her head and turns away. "If you must," she says. "Nothing good can come of it."
#bjk plays bg3 durge#rakha the dark urge#spent more time on this little plot point than was probably necessary XD#rakha and lae'zel are going to have to have a proper talk in camp at some point#and i don't think it's going to go well for anyone#rakha's mad and hurting and humiliated#and lae'zel is mad and hurting and humiliated#and they're both scared shitless and neither is the type to admit it#and also rakha broke lae'zel's heart by accident#10/10 interpersonal skills everyone#everyone else in camp jsut standing around awkwardly like 'really hope they don't kill each other'
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@hyperionswrath asked: “As awful as it sounds, money is power, and power is magnetic.” ( can use my FFVII verse for this :3 ) The Inheritance Games Book Series Rp Meme - ACCEPTING
You proclaim this fact to be awful and yet you speak with a smile on your face.” The remark lacked any sort of cynicism despite the knowing grin tugging at his own mouth contradicting his tone to a fault.
Arms folded across his broad chest, Roche proceeds to examine this self-proclaimed knight, pondering which proverbial monarch he chose to wield his blade in favour. Seifer Almasy didn’t seem the type to merely bow down to social rule, preferring instead to break moulds as opposed to slot into them.
The Third could very well get onboard with this level of idealism.
But the pursuit of money… for this Roche honed some opposing beliefs.
“Not that I’m one to judge, but tell me, Seifer Almasy, what will you do with all of this power when you’re in the ground, hm? Money and power surely is a breeding ground for fear which, of course, would manifest obedience and control… a false sense of security for those who sit upon proverbial thrones.” Roche would lift a single hand then, inspecting fingernails hidden beneath the leather of his glove if only to drive him his utter contempt for the coveting of wealth.
“... could you settle for a lonely funeral~?”
#hyperionswrath#we really must do this again - ANSWERED ASKS#I've left it kind of vague verse wise so you can slot it wherever you feel it fits :3-
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A Word on Divination 🔮
Divination: An Examination by Connor
Divination comes from the Latin word “divinare,” which means “to foretell, foresee, or prophesize.” It is related to another Latin word, “divinus,” which means “to be inspired by a god.” Divination is sometimes used interchangeably with the words “psychic,” “fortune-telling,” or “clairvoyance,” but in actuality, these terms barely scratch the surface or truly illuminate all that divination encompasses.
Divination is the attempt to gain insight into any question, topic, or situation regarding the past, present, or future through some standardized, ritualistic or occultic process. It can be done through a variety of different ways, from the most well-known of cartomancy—or rather, card-reading—to more obscure means like using certain animals and their behavior to predict weather patterns or disasters. Each method of divination typically comes from a long history of practice and cultural or spiritual significance to the practitioner. Diviners are those that practice divination in any of its many forms. I am a diviner of 14 years practice, and I, like many others, have a whole arsenal of tools that I use to help show me the way during any reading that I perform, be it for myself or for my clients.
The Question: “How can divination help me?”
As I commonly like to reassure to every new client that comes to me with this same exact question, divination is not quite as specific (or terrifying) as what it is often made out to be in most popular media. You will never catch me sitting behind a crystal ball and screaming that the spirits are telling me that you’re going to have a horrible accident on the first Tuesday of next month unless you change up your daily routine. Divination just isn’t that specific or extreme, typically.
Granted, there are some diviners and more powerful seers out there who see visions or dreams of the past, present, or future and can make some accurate assessments using this particularly rare method of divination. However, the vast majority of us diviners out there make use of divining tools and our own psychic intuition and empathy as our main method of sussing out advice for you. Our methods are usually much calmer and more figurative, as we spend a lot of our time and energy in trying to interpret the symbolism in what our tools and gut-feelings are trying to tell us.
Connor’s Philosophy When It Comes to Divination?
My readings are not often designed to tell you exactly the way something is and will forever be. Sadly, that’s just not the way the universe works most of the time. Instead, my readings are crafted with the intent to examine your life—be it the past, a past life, the present, or a possible future—and to look at all the factors that play into your situation. This is done so that I can determine any potential outcomes and how they might impact your life as you continue on the course of this path. I’ll try to get a read on how it will play out for you, how it will make you feel, how it might affect others that you care for that play a larger role in your life, and so on. The point of this is to help illuminate one path over another for you, so that you can effectively confront any possible challenges head-on and make more informed decisions or choices. And if it's not for a decision-making process, then this is done so that you can gain the clarity needed to grow from prior unfavorable situations, or to simply see if you want to continue on down the path that you currently walk or change course for a more desirable one.
I am of the firm belief that nothing is ever set in stone. We forge our own futures and this life is everything that we make of it. Attitude, intentions, and effort go a long way in magic and manifestation, and we can alter the entire course of our lives with one conscientious decision or more positive change. This is also why you can get away with doing more frequent readings, and also why you may sometimes see so much variance between readings. All it takes is one active shift in thinking to completely change the path that you walk—one break-up, one failure, one success or promotion, one new relationship, one financial decision, one habit that you cultivate, one new hobby that’s tried out on a whim, etc... Anything can make an unexpected difference in shaping you and your life, for better or worse.
Divination is a tool that can help you better navigate your life in all of its trials and tribulations. If you don’t like the predicted outcome of any reading that you receive or perform for yourself, step back and ponder exactly what it is that you find unfavorable. Dig deeper, ask more questions and challenge them with more solutions, then re-evaluate those solutions to try and find a better way. Once you have sight of that more favorable outcome, then go for it with everything that you have. You aren’t a helpless puppet in the hands of an angry and unforgiving fate—you have the power to make the change that is necessary.
This is your life to live, destiny has nothing on you, and I sincerely hope that you never forget that. 💜
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FEBUWHUMP 17
CW: Hostage, interrogation, dubious medical practices, needles, blood
AN: nothing really to say except that this is a pretty heavy chapter. stay safe y'all
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
"Cal, I just don't know what to do," Nyxie says, pacing around the living room anxiously, "She's just— stuck in some cell somewhere, and we have no clue where she is! I mean, she could be dead for all we know, and it takes ages for news to travel anywhere! We don't even know—"
"Where she is," Calixto interrupts. It sighs, pulling its coat tighter around itself, even though it must be hot standing there next to the fireplace like that. "Well," it adds, "Em's smart. She's not dead or dyin', I'm sure."
Calixto sounds less sure than it says it is.
Nyxie huffs. "It's just—" she inhales slowly— "She could be anywhere by now. It's been a few days. A lot of people live out in the middle of nowhere like us, and we can't just inspect everyone's places like we're the Royal Guard or something."
Calixto sighs, leaning back on the armchair. "We should really get goin'. It's only been three days, four tomorrow, that's not long enough to get outta the country, at least."
"You sure we can't start now?"
"Do you really want to fall asleep on the road?" A pause. "Exactly."
The two sit there in silence for a while. "You sure Em'll be alright?" Nyxie says.
"I mean, yeah. I trust her with my life, so I trust her with her own."
Nyxie lets out a weak giggle. "You trust her with too much."
Calixto laughs in return. "I mean, I lov— she's my best friend," it says, hoping Nyxie doesn't notice the slip-up.
Nyxie does notice, but doesn't say anything about it. "I guess," she says instead, "She'll be fine. She'll be okay."
"That's the spirit."
"Shut up."
---
Emery was, contrary to popular belief, not doing fine at all.
"Look," she said, "Just because I was in town two days before that person died, and left just before, does not mean I killed them."
Their interrogator stares at them, unconvinced. "Then why were there reports of you talking to them just before they ate the food that killed them?"
Emery stares back. "I talked to fricking everyone that day," she says, "and we shared the cookie as well. Why would I do that if I poisoned it?"
"You could've eaten just the non-poisoned part."
"Yeah, but I didn't know!"
"Why did you not die then?"
"I don't know either! I might have the antidote in my blood or something, but I wouldn't know, because no one told me!"
The interrogator stared directly into Emery's eyes right after she said that.
Emery was suddenly incredibly concerned for her future self.
The interrogator suddenly stands up and leaves the cell, making sure to lock the door behind them and consequently leaving Emery alone. She begins to think about what might happen to her. The entire 'antidote-in-her-blood' thing was just to get the guy off her tail for what? Not dying when she was "supposed to"? And now they were actually going to go and test that on her. What would they do to her, anyway? Try to re-poison her? Draw her blood?
Before Emery can go further down that train of thought, though, the interrogator returns, this time with some other person who Emery doesn't recognise. Before she can say anything, the other person strong-arms her out of the cell, firmly disregarding her protests. She can already feel the bruises forming on her skin.
After a while, Emery is tossed onto what looks to be an examination table. She glances around at the room.
Vials containing a suspicious amount of red liquid line the back of multiple glass cabinets along the wall. There's a diagram of the average humanoid brain on the opposite side of the room, with a bunch of notes messily glued on. On the table next to her, there is a concerning amount of needles— fifteen or sixteen, at least— and tiny, unlabelled vials tied with twine to each one. Above the door hangs a set of what Emery thinks are deer antlers, roughly sawed off at the bases. Emery stares for a second longer. Why were they looking for a pair of off-season antlers? They can be gathered quite easily at the right time of year.
The other person moves into Emery's vision, and she starts to turn her head to talk to them. Before she can do that, though, someone who she assumes is the interrogator forces her head to turn straight up to the ceiling. "Don't move," they hiss.
Emery, who actually has self-preservation today, decides to stay still.
The other person, in the time that Emery didn't see them, has donned a white labcoat, covered in dubious stains that she doesn't really want to think about. They pick up a large syringe and hold it menacingly over Emery.
"Now," they say, "I'll be taking out a little blood for your services."
"I didn't agree to be here," Emery protests, "And that's a big syringe you got there."
The person gives her a grin. It doesn't reach their eyes. "For that," they say, "What if, say, I take out a little more than usual?"
Emery pales. She doesn't say anything else.
After a minute of agonising waiting, the person jabs the needle into their arm, before pulling a bit out.
Then a bit more.
This doesn't stop until a while later.
Emery exhales sharply as the needle finally leaves her skin. "What the heck?" she mutters.
The others don't hear her, thankfully, and instead seem to be testing something out in the background. After a bit, though, someone sees her, then, without a word, starts to drag her back.
Emery closes her eyes and starts to try to breathe properly. That had been an ordeal. She did hope that her friends would come for her soon.
Right now, though, she really just wanted to sleep.
#flowers.docx#febuwhumpday17#febuwhump#febuwhump2024#cw hostage#cw interrogation#cw medical#cw needles#cw blood
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