#ive never been all that attached to my body or the human experience

[flame-shadow]

reminded of the times in my life when people have commented on my being robotic in my thoughts or mannerisms. how i took those comments as compliments for years until i realized they were pointing out i was Different (derogatory). i was over there like 'heck yeah, someone who doesn't see me as completely human this is great' and i assume they were meanwhile thinking something like 'that person doesn't know how to human properly and is weird for it'

funny how perspectives work

[nabtime]

Our Empty Graves VIII

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 8: and ive been the bad guy for so long (im growing tired)

Chapter Summary: Danny has an unexpected encounter in the graveyard. Jason is hunting for someone.

Chapter Notes: title from Villain Of My Own Story by Unlike Pluto Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 9 // Spotify

It’d been one of the last times he’d been Danny Fenton. One of the last times he’d kept up the facade of humanity. One of the last times he ever saw his sister.

She was home for break, traveling all the way back from her fancy college to shack up at Fentonworks because she had no other place to go. He knew she hated being there. Hated being around their parents. Hated being around him.

Ever since his accident (where he died, where he became other) she’d alternated between excessive clinging and cold distance. Like she was afraid of something. Afraid of losing him. Afraid of him. The more he went out as Phantom, the more he slacked in his studies and ignored his friends that ignored him in turn, the more he broke curfew- the more distance Jazz had put between them. Then she graduated, got a full ride, and left- never looking back. Only until she had to.

He’d been bleeding from the side, because in those days it was rarer when he wasn’t, and trying to patch himself up to stem the flow of red-green-red blood until his powers kicked in enough to heal it up. Technus had gotten him with a nasty saw blade attached to an old brick phone that he hadn’t expected. He should have been paying more attention, should have been better.

He really should have been paying more attention to the people in his house.

He’d climbed in from the window- all in human form so as to avoid the ghost shields around the house. His parents never noticed or bothered to check in on him if they did, so he’d been careless about heaving himself in. He hadn’t noticed Jazz standing, arms crossed, in the corner until she’d gasped at the sight of his wound. At the blood. Red-green-red.

He’d seen the bright green glare of his eyes flashing reflected in hers. A mirror image imposed over fear and building rage.

“What did you do with him,” she demanded, voice trembling but furious. She left the shadows of the corner and stalked toward him where he’d frozen by the window.

“What did you do with Danny?” she hissed, like a viper about to strike, ready and willing even if the warble in her words belied her hesitation.

He remained frozen, struck dumb by fear and panic, frantically trying to think of an explanation. An excuse. A lie. Anything to make his sister stop looking at him like that. Stop looking at him the way she had for the past few years.

“I don’t know-,” he stuttered out as Jazz moved closer and closer, anger making her entire body tremble with every step. His voice was scratchy and painful. He hadn’t had cause to speak in weeks before this.

“Don’t you start that,” she snapped, looming over him. She’d always taken after Dad, height-wise. “Don’t you lie to me. I’ve suspected for years what you are. That- that green only proves it!”

“Jazz-”

“Stop it!” she grabbed his wrist, grip strong and bruising. The neon light of his eyes lit her face at a sinister angle, casting her features in deep shadows. Twisting it. “I know my brother. I know he’d never be like this. Danny would never hurt people like you do!”

He didn’t hurt people! He didn’t, he didn’t. Never on purpose. Never because he meant to. And yet. People still got hurt. People got hurt around him and it was still his fault, because he was the one that opened the portal. He was the one that brought hell upon Amity Park.

He could see his own reflection in her eyes, caught by monster that stared back at him. Caught by the fear he found underneath. The fury of his sister.

She lunged, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Where is he?!”

Tears were cascading down both of their faces. The desperation in Jazz’s voice shook Danny to his core.

“I know who you are,” she intoned. She released him when he still couldn’t muster a response, her face falling into a more terrifying blankness. “I know what you are. Ghost. Phantom. Monster.”

He recoiled, struggling in her grip. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. He was still himself! Still Danny! Wasn’t he?

“Get out of my house,” she said, back turning to face the wall and her voice still flat. “Get out of his room.”

“Jazz, please,” he croaked.

He didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to give up the last shards of his shattered humanity. It didn’t matter how dangerous it was to live with his parents like this, on edge during every second of the day and never knowing when he’d get caught, get torn molecule by molecule. Because if he was still here, if he was still trying to go to school, if he was still trying to keep his life together, it meant he had one. He never wanted to die. Never wanted to come back like that.

She whirled around and any words he’d been trying to gather to plead his case fled at the sight of her face. She was still cast in dark shadow, but her eyes blazed, still wet with tears. She was angry, she was afraid. She was hurt. He’d done that. He’d done that to his sister. The sister that had practically raised him.

“It would be better,” she whispered. “For them. For me. To have closure. You aren’t my little brother. For whatever reason you won’t tell me, he’s gone.”

She turned again, a sob wracking her thin frame. She was so thin. Where once she’d trained with their mother in martial arts and packed on wiry muscle, she was now skin and bone. Tears she’d shed had only emphasized the bags that laid underneath. She was shaking. Her hair was dry and thinning. He hadn’t noticed before. Hadn’t noticed how much the stress was getting to her. How much she was hurting. His parents had remained oblivious. Jazz had not. He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t hurt her like that.

“I don’t know if he’s missing or dead, or- or something else. You won’t tell me.” Her voice was strangled with tears, thin but sharp. “That’s fine. It’s actually not, but I can’t force answers out of you.”

She turned her head, arms clutching her torso in some facsimile of a hug. He could see the fear and apprehension on her. He hated it.

“You’re too powerful. I’ve seen you fight. And I’m no hunter.”

She walked away, towards the door of his room, hand reaching out to clutch the door knob in a white-knuckled grip. “But please, stop pretending he’s still here.”

She left. He left. He never returned to that house.

═════ ◈ ═════

It’d been an all too familiar confrontation when Red Hood finally saw him for what he was. Nothing but a monster. He’d heard the word so many times now, it was imprinted into his very core. Spat in anger at him, shouted in fear at him, whispered in horror at him. He didn’t know why he tried. Why he kept trying to connect. To feel alive again, feel human again. It never worked. He was too unnatural, too beastly. Grotesque.

He died. He was dead, dead, dead. No amount of wishful thinking would change that. He came back wrong. Inhuman. Freakish. The humans feared him and the ghosts hated him. He couldn’t even die properly. Couldn’t be a ghost properly.

Alone. He was alone. And that’s all he would ever be.

He didn’t deserve anything else. He’d hurt too many people. Jazz. His mom and dad. Sam and Tucker. Valerie. Her father. And he hurt ghosts too. Ember, Desiree, Technus. And he’d killed. Ending may not be a one-to-one correlation with murder, but it still wiped a being from existence. If anything the way he’d crushed Pariah’s core was more visceral. The screaming and screaming and screaming. The tearing and ripping and- consumption. He’d crushed Pariah’s core and eaten it. Ghost Hunger, the Fright Knight had solemnly called it. An instinct ghosts had when fighting so viciously, fighting over territory. Pariah had stolen and claimed his Haunt, he’d asked for a fight to the End the moment he’d taken Amity into the Zone. And he lost. And now it didn’t even matter because his Haunt was lost to him anyway. When the people left, so did his reason for protecting his territory. Then, falling into the portal into Gotham had really cemented the loss.

He was just a ghost with nothing to haunt and a long list of people he’d hurt. Red Hood was simply a new name to add.

He wasn’t even sure what triggered it. It had already just been a waiting game, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew that at some point Red would change his mind, figure out what Danny truly was and act accordingly. He’d been so angry with Danny despite how hard he’d tried to be good this time. He wanted to be helpful, wanted to save people where he hadn’t been. Nobody else needed to know the pain of dying, or the pain of coming back different. But he couldn’t go back out there, out there into the streets. Gotham at large was Batman’s territory and he already knew how the Big Bat felt about him. Crime Alley was Red’s territory and he wouldn’t dare to step foot back there without permission.

It didn’t matter how badly he flinched and had to restrain himself every time he heard a scream.

He wouldn’t leave the sanctity of the tree he’d perched in anyway. Not without the protective barrier of his suit. He’d been in such a frantic hurry when he’d left that dojo that he hadn’t grabbed all his gear. Usually, with it being made of ectoplasm, it would reform if it got torn or ripped. He’d never taken it off though. Not like he had on Red’s request. He could tell that the pants were starting to reform around his legs, but it was taking time. Most of his ectoplasm was going towards his wound from before. It might take up to a week before his suit was fully back. He’d left a lot of ectoplasm back at the dojo by leaving his gear, all of it likely turned to goop by now.

He would just spent the rest of his afterlife (however long that was) in this hickory tree in the cemetery, foraging for nuts when he felt up for it. Nothing much else he could do. Back to square one.

“Yo, Cujo!”

He startled at the shout. Had someone lost their dog in the cemetery of all places? Maybe he could help… No. He’d just scare them. But something about that voice was familiar…

“Ey! I’m talkin to you, puppy dog! Get your florescent ass down here!”

Nadi? Why was she here? And was she- looking for him? She couldn’t be. Sure, they’d ‘talked’ a few times after he’d taken down Charlie for her, but she still didn’t have a reason to track him down. It’s not like he worked for Red Hood anymore. But- Maybe she was in trouble? Did she need help?

Worried, he made most of his body intangible so as not to rustle any of the leaves of the tree and took a peek to check on her.

She stood there among the graves in her usual work clothes, hands on her hips and not a hair out of place. He always wondered how she could walk in heels that tall and if she ever got cold with so little clothing. At least she had on a large fur coat to keep her warm in the chill of the night this time. She also looked kinda pissed though. Charlie hovered behind her, looking nervous and wringing his hands.

It was nice to see the man cleaned up. Access to regular hygiene products and clean clothes did wonders for him. Stable amounts of food and shelter helped him fill out and look less gaunt overall as well. As far as Danny had seen he also took his job seriously, making sure the girls- mostly Nadi- had everything they needed and were well taken care of. He was kind of proud to see the man had come so far.

“C’mon kid, I know you’re up there,” she called, staring straight at the tree Danny was hanging in. “I’m not stupid, baby. Trees don’t glow like that on their own.”

Curse him and his bioluminescence.

Reluctantly he turned invisible and started climbing down the tree, making sure to shake the branches on the way down so Nadi could see that he was coming. He didn’t want her to see him like this, without his mask, without his suit, but he also didn’t want to make her stand in the cemetery all night for no reason.

His feet moved the grass, marking his steps where the sight of his body didn’t. The rustling sound alerted Nadi of his approach and she smiled. It was small and kind of sad but at least she wasn’t screaming.

“What are you hiding for, baby?” she asked softly, looking just past his shoulder. “I’ve seen you before.”

He shuffled in place but made no other move. Nadi sighed and he could see Charlie shifting uneasily behind her. Charlie knew to be afraid of him, even if Nadi seemed naively fearless.

“C’mon now, baby boy. I came all the way out here to see you. It took a shit load of annoying Hood to get him to tell me where you might be, you know.”

And that certainly caught his attention. Hood had told her where he was? Hood knew where he was? He… hadn’t hunted Danny down to throw him out even knowing where he was? Even told one of the people under his protection his location? He had so many questions and no way to ask them.

“Looked like he was gonna blast ya head off if ya didn’t stop, too,” Charlie muttered.

“Oh hush, you,” she said, swatting a perfectly manicured hand towards the other. “Hood wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“You’re fuckin’ nuts, Nadi,” Charlie replied in derision. “Man decapitates people for fun.”

“Mn, whatever,” she dismissed. “Anyway, Cujo, where have you been, baby? I ain’t seen you around at all the past week! And Hood might have told me where you were but he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

She crossed her arms with a pout, expecting an answer. But he didn’t have one for her. He didn’t want to think about that day in the dojo. Didn’t want to think about the pain. Think about the anger and betrayal he’d seen in Red’s eyes. Danny didn’t know what he did, exactly, but it’d only been a matter of time before Red threw him out anyway. Better now than later when Danny had fully settled in. He didn’t deserve company like this. Didn’t deserve to pretend to be human. Didn’t deserve Red Hood’s generosity.

“Baby,” she said, voice so, so soft and gentle it hurt, “talk to me. Please. I miss my little savior.”

He struggled not to whine with his core, trying to keep the sound in. Her little savior. She missed him. He didn’t know what to do here. Didn’t know what he could even try to communicate. He wanted to disappear on the spot, wanted to leave so she wouldn’t say those kinds of things to him. Things that made him hope. He couldn’t let her do that. But more than that he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t. He needed to disappear, but more than anything he wanted to stay. Even if it ended in disaster again, he wanted to stay.

His powers flickered with his indecision until he finally dropped the invisibility altogether. He braced himself, closing his eyes even as they filled with tears.

He heard a gasp from Nadi and flinched away. Charlie mumbled a “No fuckin’ way” and he waited for the screaming. Waited for the anger and the fear.

It never came.

“Oh, mi vida,” Nadi cooed. “Look at you. You have a face!”

Charlie, who was standing just behind Nadi and peering around her arm, snorted a startled laugh. He looked disbelieving and wary. But he didn’t look scared. Nadi didn’t look scared either. She stepped closer and Danny held in the flinch at her hands coming close to his face. He almost melted when all she did was cup his cheek and run a hand through his hair. His core rumbled and more tears fell from his eyes at the touch.

He didn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t let her get so close. But he couldn’t pull away. It felt so nice.

“Oh, look at your hair, you poor thing,” she tsked as she ran her fingers through the ragged strands. He’d tried to cut it once, on his own, on one of the last few times he’d been human (pretending to be). He’d been so frustrated with it and he’d already fled the house and it had kept getting in his eyes and its not like he’d had access to scissors. Frustrated ectoblasts did not good hair-cutting tools make. The chunks he’d burned away hadn’t grown back right and the others were growing far, far too long. Not that he’d noticed much before now. His hair stayed under the hood of his suit. Hidden away. Probably why he hadn’t tried to shoot it again.

“This won’t do,” Nadi murmured. “This won’t do at all. Your face is far too pretty for hair like this. It needs to be fixed.”

The words made his face scrunch in confusion. Fix it? Pretty? He was a monster, inhuman. He wasn’t pretty. He couldn’t be fixed.

“Come,” she said, dropping her hands to tug at his arms, gentle, as she started backing up. “Come on. I’m gonna give you a hair-cut, baby. And then we’ll talk about why you’ve been hiding out here.”

He stepped back, phasing his arms out of her grip. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the cemetery. If the Batman didn’t hunt him down, then Red would. He’d told Danny to leave. Told him he was a traitor. A monster. He wouldn’t go back into the other’s territory and that’s exactly where Nadi would want him to go.

He shook his head, backing up more to put space between them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Okay,” Nadi said, holding her hands up. “Okay, mi vida. Don’t go. Please.”

He stopped. Wary.

“You don’t have to talk. But, please, come back with me?”

He shook his head. She didn’t understand. He back up another step, preparing to flee. He shouldn’t have let her get so close in the first place.

“Wait!” she pleaded. And he did. “Is it the hair-cut? Do you not want that? We don’t have to, baby. Just- please?”

He shook his head again. She still didn’t understand. No one ever did. Why was it so hard? This is why he’d never tried before. Never tried to talk. To communicate. No one ever understood. No one except-

He made it to the hickory tree, patting the trunk and looking back at Nadi. He pointedly tapped the trunk again, pointed to himself and then the ground of the cemetery. He pointed to himself, then the direction of the gates and shook his head. Nadi could visit all she liked, but he couldn’t leave. The cemetery, a resting place for the dead, was the only place he belonged anymore. He needed to stop pretending he was still alive and stay in a Haunt he deserved. A place empty and cold aside from the other restless shades.

Nadi deflated, heaving a sigh. “Mi vida, you can’t stay here. This is no place for you. Please, please, come with me.”

He smiled, small and hurt. She was wrong. This was the one place that was for him.

“Okay!” she cried, seeing his intention to return to his new home in the bough of the hickory. He paused. Waiting to see what she would say.

“I’m going to leave,” she declared, hands on her hips. He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “And I’m going to get everything I need. And then I’m coming back and cutting your hair.”

He blinked, not expecting that. She would willingly come back? Willingly see him again? Do a favor for him, even? Why was she so determined? What could possibly posses her to do something like this? What madness had overcome her? This wouldn’t end well. Not for either of them. He shifted uneasily at the thought. She shouldn’t come back. Shouldn’t sympathize with him. Shouldn’t waste her time on him. But it was all so nice. It felt so, so nice. He’d forever be a fool, always falling for the same trap over and over again. Believing he could be with people without it ending in disaster.

Reluctantly, he nodded. He quickly flew back up into the branches of the tree, fleeing at the sight of her smile. He only hoped she wouldn’t get in any trouble with Red on his behalf. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t seen him as the terrible thing he was yet.

He played with the ends of his wispy hair, the strands floating in the air around him and twining around his fingers like smoke. A haircut, huh? He wondered how she’d even manage that.

It might be nice, though.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce stared at the screen for what felt like hours and hours, a question rotating within his mind with no solid answer. Had Jason Todd come back to life? Had his son fallen soldier clawed his way out of his own grave? Had he been alone and confused? Further failed by Bruce when he wasn’t there in time?

Had Jason Todd, his greatest regret, come back just to taunt him? To make sure he knew how badly he had failed? To hurt him so, so completely? He couldn’t sleep for how much it pained him to think that the magnitude of his failure was far greater than he’d first thought. Not only had he let Jason die, but he hadn’t been there to help him when he came back, either.

But how.

The grave was watched. It had sensors. He’d had Jason buried far from the Wayne family plots, closer to the Alley that the boy had grown up in, in order to avoid looting and antagonistically nosy reporters. The grave being further away, he’d put up sensors in order to know the moment anyone not authorized approached. If anyone had tried to disturb his boy’s body after death he should have known.

He hadn’t accounted for Jason getting out on his own.

He’d hoped. In the beginning. Every day he’d visit that grave and wait. And every night, the death of his youngest soldier still fresh, he’d go home disappointed. Bitter with himself. Feeling foolish for thinking there was even the slightest chance. He known that Jason would never come back. Could never come back. No matter what scheme he tried to think of, no matter what favor he tried to think of to pull, there was no reviving him. The brain damage had been too severe. The boy’s body broken beyond anything. He’d seen the damage first hand. He knew what he’d done.

And yet.

There was a chance he was back. There was a chance that his boy had come back. That Jason, however changed, was alive again.

And he was killing people. Spiting Bruce and all he stood for.

He lowered his weary head into his hands, cowl pressing uncomfortably against his face. Why now? Why like this?

Red Hood wasn’t the only mystery to have fallen into his lap either. The green glowing boy was wrapped up in all of this as well. But he didn’t know how. He’d let his temper, his hurt, get the best of him when the boy had first appeared on Jason’s grave. He’d already been scolded thoroughly for that by Alfred, and he had come to regret it some on his own. But that didn’t change the mystery of the boy’s identity. Hell, the mystery of the boy’s species. He was an unknown variable in Gotham and Bruce couldn’t stand to leave it alone. The boy could be dangerous, doubly so now that he’d taken up with Red Hood’s gang.

All he had to go on were rumors.

Security footage shorted out or was taken over by Red Hood in the first place. The blood that had been left after their initial fight had come back inconclusive. He had no record of whatever substance the boy was made of. His intentions were unknown. His power set was unknown (and he had powers, that much he’d been able to glean). His origins were unknown. And every lead Bruce looked into became a dead end.

He didn’t have the time or energy to dedicate to the case, not unless it directly involved the Red Hood. The Jason Todd case.

Thankfully Tim would be coming back to Gotham soon, a small break from his work with the Titans. He could offload the case to Tim and not think about the immense guilt he felt every time he looked at his latest Robin. He’d sworn after Jason’s death that there would never be another, and yet Tim had wormed his way into Bruce’s life and refused to leave. If he distracted himself with Red Hood’s case and gave another one to distract Tim, maybe they wouldn’t have to interact as much and Bruce wouldn’t have to feel so goddamn sad about it.

He’d give Tim the courtesy of welcoming him back before leaving himself. He’d follow his next lead back to Ra’s and question the man within an inch of his life. If he had had anything to do with Jason being resurrected and then subsequently kept from him, he didn’t know what he was liable to do.

First, he’d wait for Robin to come home. He felt like he was always waiting for his Robin’s to come home, they so often left the nest.

═════ ◈ ═════

Harley was waiting.

She knew she was being hunted and there was no escape. That was fine. She didn’t want to escape, she was here to deliver a message to the newest Bat running in the streets. Oh, Red Hood may bot want to admit he was a new Bat, but Harley knew better. Boy wasn’t exactly subtle with his identity and while Brucie B might have trouble accepting the truth, she knew better than anyone that people could have a habit of coming back from the dead. Her dear Mistah J had managed it enough times. Jason Todd coming back and antagonizing his old man was no surprise. That it took him this long to find her was what was surprising.

“Harley Quinn,” said a voice, deep and heavily modulated. Harley wondered if the baby boy wonder had really grown so much or if it was a mask. Or maybe it was a side-effect of his resurrection. Who could tell.

“Baby bird,” she sang, swinging her hammer up onto her shoulder. “Good ta see ya again.”

“How-”

She spun to face her intruder. She was precariously perched on the ledge of an abandoned building out near the docks. She’d been waiting for Red Hood to show his masked face and he didn’t disappoint. She swung her hammer out towards the boy, leaning back over the edge and using it as a counterbalance to keep herself on the roof. Hood kept his gun on her the entire time.

“Puh-lease,” she said, “you may be able to taunt ol’ Batty boy about who you are, but don’t think you can fool the fool here, Jaybird.” She relished in watching the big little guy flinch. “You’re not exactly subtle, ya know.”

“What do you want, Harley,” he asked, although it didn’t really sound like much of a question. She pouted at him. He was the one to hunt her down and, yeah, she might have caused a little trouble to get his attention, but still. She knew what he wanted.

“It’s not about what youse can do for me, but what I can do’s for you.” She swung her hammer again until it rested on the ledge and she leaned on it for support. “I hear ya been lookin for Mista J.”

And she had heard about that. Rumors wafting up from the underground about Red Hood being on a hunt for the Joker. The other rogues thinking the man was insane, he already had a hit on him from Black Mask (not something any of the usual rogues were willing to touch without testing more of Red Hood’s skill (they were mostly insane, not stupid. No one wanted to battle a guy willing to go toe-to-toe with Black Mask and seemed to be winning.)) and now he wanted to tango with the Big Guy? The Clown Prince of Crime?

Rule number one for Gotham villainy- never work with the Joker. Everyone thought they could control him, predict him, work around his brand of crazy. No one ever succeeded. Ra’s got the little bird killed trying to work with Mister J. Penguin got blasted in the ass the last time he’d tried to hire the Clown for help. Harley was the only one that could match the Joker, the only one that could work with him without it backfiring. She was the harlequin to his jester, the tit to his tat.

“You know who I am,” he said. And she did. That was part of the point here. “You know what I want with him. You’d give me your ‘precious puddin’ for nothing?”

She didn’t like being mocked like that, but she let it go. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper here.

“I wouldn’t say it’s nothin’, Little Hood,” she said, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “An’ sides,” she added, trying her best to look sad, “me and Mista J ain’t exactly square anymore. He hurt me good and I’ma lookin’ to hurt him back. I let you attem an’ we both win in the end, ya see?”

“If he hurt you so bad, then why don’t you want revenge for yourself instead of handing it off to me?” he sounded cautious, but willing to believe her. Sucker.

“Well, deep down somewheres in here,” she pointed to her heart, “I still love the guy.” She swooned, nearly falling off the roof with her dramatics, but she kept her place. She knew how to balance, to walk that thin, thin line. “Wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. You, on the otha hand,” she stopped to sweep a hand in Red’s direction, “gots plenty a triggers to pull.”

“Don’t play with me, Harleen,” he growled. Ooh, so scary. She’d seen that boy in pixie shorts, chasing crime in his greenie-tighties, she wasn’t intimidated by him. He might have a gun, but she had a hammer. And hyenas if the situation called for it.

“Ain’t playin’!” She said, swaying on the ledge with the force of her denial. “Pinky swear!” she held up a pinky, but kept her other hand behind her back, crossing her fingers.

“Heard ya got a doggy to play with anyhow,” she said, distracting. She knew his little friend had run off without him. Poor boy had never been any good at playing nice.

“Ran away,” he said, voice curt and closed off. Ooh, she’d definitely hit a sore spot.

“Aw, that’s too bad!” she cooed, before stretching her face into a wide, sharp grin. “Was hopin’ we could play fetch.”

“Tell me where he is or get shot, Quinn,” he growled. Oh, maybe the nerve was a tad too sensitive. Oopsie.

“Party pooper,” she pouted. She swung her hammer up onto her shoulder and sauntered closer, ignoring the had tightening on the gun still pointed at her head. She knew he wouldn’t shoot. He needed her intel too much. Boy was too much like his dad for that.

“Alright,” she said, “Mistah J is gonna be havin a little party. Don’t know why, just that he is. And I so happen to have an exclusive in-va-ta-tion.” With that she pulled out a little card and waved it around in the other’s face.

He made a grab for it and she pulled back. “Ah, ah,” she sang. “You gotta promise you let me know when you RSVP. I wanna see you crash his shindig, ya dig?”

“Fine,” he bit out. And Harley could just hear him grinding his teeth. Gosh, she loved riling up the Bats. He snatched the card out of her hand and she let him. He pulled out a grapple (classic Bat behavior) and was about to swing away before she shouted after him.

“Maybe you can bring your little doggie friend too!”

She laughed as she dodged the bullet that embedded itself into the concrete where she’d been standing a second earlier. Oh, what a fun little bash they would have. She clapped and laughed as she hopped down the fire escape, switching to a jaunty whistle as she strolled the docks. She knew why her puddin’ was throwing his soiree. Knew that it wasn’t something the baby bat could crash. Not when he was the guest of honor! Sure hoped he liked the cake they picked out for his welcome home party! And the explosives!

[rivetgoth]

I think for me transsexuality is just like. very physical and not very mental, if that makes sense which it probably doesnt. One of the biggest primary things that kept me from being able to actually come out as trans confidently was the terminology that the community was switching over to at the time ie. replacing terms like transsexual with transgender or replacing sex reassignment surgery with gender affirming surgery, replacing ftm with trans man, the prevalence of terms like transmasculine to refer broadly to any afab person who identified with anything broadly considered “masculine,” this would have been back in like 2013 or early 2014 when i first recognized that i was vaguely “not female” but didnt have a full grasp on myself and what i actually wanted yet.

i think so much of the trans community discusses identity and “gender” as this like. mental thing, or even societal thing, this idea or this concept thats intangible and like. thats all fine but i feel like i never necessarily had a relationship to this idea of gender or one’s gender being changed or affirmed by various means. my desire to transition came from a physical discomfort with my body and any desire for differing treatment socially came from the awareness that i was being treated in accordance to my physical body and how people perceived it, when it wasnt the body I wanted at all to begin with. Like. uh. I remember my early questioning as a young teen and preteen usually was stuff like, “if I could just step into a machine and immediately change my sex to male I would but its not worth the trouble of transitioning and having to undergo these big surgeries and hormones” and frequently trying to like, mentally bargain with the universe basically being like “i would HAPPILY be a woman if i could just have a male body.” etc.

in a world where gender didnt exist i would still be trans because i would not be able to live a comfortable fulfilling happy life in the body i was born with, regardless of how we conceptualized gender or identity or pronouns. if i lived in a society where every human being used she/her pronouns and was called girl i wouldnt care abt that but i would still have been literally unable to have healthy relationships with other people until i had my top surgery. i still wouldnt have been able to even jerk off without feeling suicidal until I was on T.

stuff like being misgendered or treated “like a girl” is purely like, the social reminder of my physical self and as ive transitioned further and further towards a body i’m happy with the blow has been lessened to being practically nonexistent, altho i still dont like. want to be called a girl lol i still would like to be perceived as a man in society. i dont feel any attachment to womanhood or being female and i never ever have. i never identified with being a lesbian or a bi woman, i never really had female friends, i always related to male characters and had primarily male friends and looked up to men, i never even really felt like the misogyny i experience/d was the same as the misogyny experienced by peers who identified with womanhood. but i also dont feel like womanhood or manhood or whatever is some complex deep intrinsic thing tied to sex or whatever idk.

i guess like, it harkens back 2 the fact that i feel like being nonbinary or genderqueer or whatever is almost inseparable from transness, even if you are by definition “binary.” I dont actually think nonbinary/binary is a binary lol. i think my identity is so tied to like, my physical body, and my desire to craft my body into something i actually feel comfortable with, to create an exterior that matches what i feel on the inside, my dysphoria manifesting as something similar to phantom limbs or severe dissociation and disconnect, and by EXISTING in society as someone who is transitioning and transsexual thats not going to exist in a binary.... especially as like, a bisexual man, and as someone who has fully decided by choice to keep my vagina and enjoys being penetrated by men and women alike, like that alongside an identity that is contingent on the physical being makes me feel kind of innately “not binary,” even if i dont identify as “nonbinary.”

i dont think sex is binary. i think its something that is very much mutable and changeable and its also not really a real construct, like there are objective realities found in nature of basic expectations of different sexes but theres literally no reason that these things need to be permanent and unchangeable, i feel like i DO relate to the concept of both defying my natal sex as well as changing it, hence the terms like transsexual, ftm, or sex reassignment like, resonating much more than anything 2 do with “gender” which i dont really even feel a connection to. when have trans people ever been fully given the privilege of being perceived as a certain gender? i dont even feel like cis lgb people fully have that privilege. being kinky and gay and trans its like abundantly clear how much of these identities are hinging on cishetero reproduction and the nuclear family and if i dont have access to or the desire to partake in any of that then what does being a man or being a woman even mean?

idk. this is very rambly and i dont necessarily expect it to make sense or for everyone to read it, but its just a lot of thoughts i have about gender and sex and shit. i feel like my identifying as stuff like “a trans man” and sometimes even a man at all feels like... out of.... practicality? because its the best easiest way to convey an innate desire to change and shape my physical self and how i want to be perceived by society. i feel as much “male” as like, the way society perceives male animals lol, like contingent on the preconceived notions of a physical reality that i am actively choosing to manipulate and change. gender isnt something i feel like i have much relationship to, i dont even really relate to like, masculinity or femininity really, as concepts, i dont relate to the term transmasculine for that reason, i wouldnt even call my presentation inherently masculine or feminine, and i think in part that has to do with being goth too, as ive said before goth presentation is genuinely, unironically very different than non-goth gender nonconformity and its literally perceived differently both within the community and at large lol. like i feel like as masculine as someone like nivek ogre or al jourgensen but it feels kinda jarring to realize that they themselves fit the definition of “gnc” by most people’s standards. hm. idk!

i wish i could just look like this

[hematomes]

listen. i have made a discovery abt scaramouche. it's after literally everyone else but just in case there are other lost souls, here goes

did you know that the heart mentioned in the bloom times

"You once acquired the 'heart' that you always dreamed of,"

"But it was but a mere prop for lies and deception."

and in the song of life

Later, the lovely puppet would finally obtain that "heart."

It was, after all, his purpose for being, the very reason he existed.

Yet, it was not what the puppet truly desired,

For it did not contain any blessings,

But was instead a sacrifice brimming with selfishness, hypocrisy, cunning and curses,

All wrapped in an amiable husk.

is actually a delusion?

The wanderer did not know that he had any faculties for dreaming,

Thinking that this must have been the researchers' little trick,

Or perhaps it was the infinitesimal resistance of that bygone heart.

I THOUGHT IT WAS THE GNOSIS FOR SOME REASON, and that we were really far from the end of his character act??? i am stupid. anyway, that's not the only thing ive noticed, now with the event i have a conclusion: the next time we'll see scaramouche should be the last major act for him before he joins the party (if he does, but as i previously stated it's basically certain).

the lore attached to this set is a bit hard to really analyze for my sad little brain because there are several different times, but it says in the cup lore that his story is, since inspired by traditional japanese theater, cut in 3 acts: "But for now, his three acts are still ongoing."

we have actually seen all 3 acts:

the 1.1 event with the meteorites

"Lord Harbinger. Where are you headed?"

The youth, hating chatty humans the most, gave his subordinate a backhand slap.

But he also loved watching expressions of terror and helplessness play across human faces,

And it was perhaps precisely because of this imbecilic underling's expressiveness that he had kept them around.

He told the groveling, quailing figure that they were headed east, for Mondstadt.

the 2.6 event with the irodori festival

Amenoma, Futsu, Isshin, Hyakume, Senju.

These were, once upon a time, the five branches of the Raiden Gokaden,

But today, only Amenoma still maintains its line of succession.

[...]

The wanderer would never admit to this.

He would never admit that he had done this as an act of revenge against the bladesmith.

Nor would he ever mention the truth,

That he had abandoned his schemes halfway because they had suddenly become dull.

He would only say, in that tone of voice he had learned from a certain researcher:

"It was all just a little experiment into human nature."

and we're in the last one since the archon quest, when he finally obtained the gnosis

"You once acquired the 'heart' that you always dreamed of,"

"But it was but a mere prop for lies and deception."

"Now, you will finally obtain what belongs to you,"

"And this false construct of a body can at last aspire to power over this world."

but what's interesting is what immediately follows this:

"Yet, this is all but a fleeting dream of glory."

"And it will all one day drift away amidst the sighs of a suffering earth..."

the thing abt the suffering earth is really fucking with me, because my first thought would've been another cataclysm. but im conflicted, because that would mean that he'd give up on the gnosis & his aspirations because of yet another war?

and we know that things in sumeru aren't really going well right now, to put it lightly; i don't know if this is foreshadowing some terrible shit going on in sumeru (maybe involving the fatui? lots of players are expecting to see dottore in sumeru, and there were some speculations abt arlecchino as well), or if it means we won't see him again until the end of the main quest, when we (maybe) confront either celestia and/or the abyss order

my heart wants the 1st one to be more likely, but i have to admit, this wouldn't be surprising if a cataclysm were the only thing that could convince scara to join us lmao. then again, the fatui also could be a reason, especially since childe is looking for him rn. im calling it now: childe rerun in 3.0 /hj

[cabinetduo]

Theres just something so gutteral about c!tubbo. Like, his character as a whole from his progression, to his design, to his themes and motifs, his story as a whole is just so compelling. This kid who everyone he met treated him like a crybaby because he wanted to protect the things he cares about. Then he fights in a few wars alongside his best friend who hes attached to the hip to. And i mean attached like, there was never one without the other, they were the duo. Then hes forced away from his best friend and beaten down by the new asshole president then paraded around like some trophy. He gets told hes worthless and a crybaby and then he internalized that. But like, he fought in a war and hes still a badass because then he spies for the revolution but then hes caught and fucking executed. This kid, he fucking gets publicly executed by someone who was supposed to be on his side WITH FUCKING FIREWORKS. Like how does that even happen. Anyway hes reunited with his best friend who fights to the death for his honor in the pit but tubbo man, he was so numb and in shock dude was just vibin. And so they train and fight on the 16th and he becomes president. They let the 16 year old ex child soldier, ex spy, who refuses to even confront that he even has trauma, be president. This kid has been through multiple betrayals and died dude. So hes president, and hes forced to mature and like, all after being told he was a worthless yes man so hes probably not the best candidate but whatever. He doesn't even want to be president. And like, the way his mind works, its all logical and straightforward, and thats so cool. But he like, ends up manipulated into arguing with and exiling his best friend which he immediately regrets. Then he finds out his best friend is dead and is absolutely devastated, then he finds out his best friend isnt actually dead, hes just teaming up with the guy who blew up the nation the first time and who fucking executed him, so hes got conflicting feelings. So the community house fight happens and he and tommy fight and like that whole thing was awesome. Then dream just completely fucking, tears into him and its just all really upsetting. Then clingyduo reconcile kinda thank god and doomsday happens which was just, he was quiet through that whole thing. AND HE FUCKING TOOK A FIREWORK FOR TOMMY. God, the way tubbo reclaims things used to harm him. Any way, disc saga finale, and he goes into it optimistic for tommy but hes fully convinced hes gonna die and hes accepted it. And dream pulls his bs and we see tubbo being fully vulnerable for the first time in god know how long and he fucking goes "ive done enough in my life" and as soon he said that i remember i started full body crying man. I was a mess like, this minecraft roleplay had me sobbing, im tearing up thinking about it. Anyway they get saved but like, someone need to get this kid therapy. He builds a new nation in the snow and, it only gets better from here. To protect it, he builds nukes. FUCKING NUKES! NUCLEAR WEAPONS!!!! WHO COMES UP WITH THAT? And like, he kinda settles down after the nukes stuff. Its so cool dude, he fucking gets married to one of the dudes who was on his cabinet and they adopt a kid. So now this ex child soldier ex spy president who has fought in multiple wars and who has been executed is a fucking dad. Seriously who comes up with this? Hes so unhinged and hes still a teenager like, who gave this kid nukes a child????? Its so cool dude. And its 4 am so i really need to go to sleep but c!tubbo is just so cool. Hes such a solid human character. Hes relatable and tragic and his character motifs are sm fucking fun and hes such a durable character if that makes sense. Idfk im just rambling but hes definitely my favorite for a reason hes so badass and like forgiving and cool and his morals make perfect sense for his life experiences and hes funny and just, everything about him aligns perfectly to me hes so awesome

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH65

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 65: The Queen’s Inheritance (IV)

Amid the dragon’s roar, the temple of cult ceremony began to collapse, but this did not stop the battle between the dragon and the monster. The two creatures in their full forms fought in this temple, and the devastating dragon breath burned around the altar, while the monster’s tentacles clung to the body of the dragon, making it impossible to bite off its tentacles.

The monster summoned by the blood of nearly 100 people couldn't fight Ning Zhou who hadn't shown his magic dragon form yet. However, after the irradiation of that strange eyeball, the monster had evolved strangely, and it had gained the power of the Devil of Power from the empty void, which made it stronger, scarier, and more cruel than before!

Like the magic dragon, it had surpassed the half-field level. Compared to Ning Zhou, who was still suppressing his own strength and avoiding being swallowed up by the origin of destruction, the irrational monster was much more terrible. It indulged itself unscrupulously, as if it were the evil in the world itself.

In the frenzied battle, no one noticed that Qi Leren, unconscious in a pool of blood, was fighting against the bewitching influence.

"Through the evil and filthy world, your soul will reach Utopia.

"There will be no more troubles and disappointments, and your life will be immersed in endless happiness and well-being.

"Demons forget the bloodthirst and desire to kill, human beings forget selfishness and greed, and all life is treated equally in Utopia.

"There will be no more death, because the soul is immortal, and you will have eternal life.

"You will also see your love, in that immortal paradise..."

Qi Leren suddenly woke up.

His body was still numb, but his consciousness woke up.

It seemed to be a whisper or a talking voice, which was still ringing and droning like a set program, but he was awake from the trance-like state.

He had suddenly thought of his lover, who wouldn't be there—a carefree Utopia.

He would only be in hell.

If he hadn’t couldn’t see him and bring him with him, he would have stay here forever, and accept all the torture in the world like self-punishment, until the dead lake water rose over his head. He won't even struggle, just sinks to the bottom quietly.

Qi Leren woke up because he couldn't let Ning Zhou go.

Being paralyzed, he couldn't move, and it was difficult to breathe deeply. Qi Leren choked back the stiff pain, slowly moved his heavy iron hand to his chest, and slowly clenched the item [Prophet's Heart] given to him by the Prophet.

[Prophet’s Heart: A god-level item hand-made by the noble and great Prophet that can make you feel the pleasure of turning into a bird. Holders can summon an archangel to come and fight on their behalf for 3 minutes with a cooling time of 24 hours.]

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster has been heated up, and the eyeball suspended in the air had continuously strengthened the monster’s power, making it quickly recover its damaged limbs, while the magic dragon has gradually liberated his own strength, and had become increasingly violent and crazy dominated by force of destruction. Under the imposing manner of the Destroyer, even such a horrible monster cannot take the upper hand.

The passerby—the initiator of this chaos—had stepped back a little, and retreated to a safe distance.

At this moment, he should be glad he hadn't gotten involved. The strength of this monster itself was about a half-field, and he could cope with it and experience a pleasant battle. However, when the strange eyeball of the master with an unknown field level had begun to interfere with the ceremony, the monster was itself strengthened to a level close to the field level.

Hmm..... Which Devil King was it?

Having entered the Nightmare Game little more than two months ago, the passerby who was confused about the power system and loyalty factions here scratched his hair and prepared to leave after watching the drama.

Although challenging a master made him happy, and he was willing to pay for it with his life, when he came to this world, he found that it was not an end wall but an amazing new world before him. He rekindled the enthusiasm of picking up the tangdao for the first time and couldn't wait to join the new world.

But not now.

The passerby reluctantly glanced at the chaotic scene and left the chaos behind.

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster became more and more fierce, and the temple became a huge colosseum. Under the duel between two monsters like ancient giants, it was as fragile as a sand castle on the beach. The force of destruction flooded Ning Zhou's reason, and the origin’s sin burning in the blood was imprinted in his soul. He suddenly forgot himself, but was immersed in the power of absolute purity and absolute terror. Until...

The twilit light of Heaven appeared in this sinful ceremony.

Qi Leren, who struggled to hold the Prophet's Heart, took a deep breath and activated the item.

In an instant, the power of the Village of Dusk’s holder ran through the boundless space and pierced the blockade of one and a half fields, falling from the sky, dispelling the bewitching power in Qi Leren's mind, and making him wake instantly.

At the same time, the pure power washed away his consciousness. He flew lightly, and his white wings slowly stretched behind him. Behind him was the Kingdom of Heaven reflected in the dusk, flowers, rites and music, angels… Everything was so holy and beautiful and desirable.

In this pure beauty, the demagogic Utopia seemed to be exposed to strong light, revealing its inner ferocious horror. It had never been a pure land on earth, but a world dominated by the Lord of Power. Walking into Utopia was like walking into a hell under high pressure. All of the self was stripped away, leaving only the dead bodies of human beings and demons, and the instructions of the Lord of Power were uniformly executed.

Under the holy light, the gloomy and evil atmosphere in the temple in the lake faded. What was even more amazing was that the dead bodies all over the ground turned into the soil and flowers under the magic of time, and white flowers blossomed from the blood, swaying in the Kingdom of Heaven at dusk like a dream.

The meat monster let out a piercing howl, black blood erupted from its eyes, and the black dragon took this opportunity to maintain its momentum. The flames of destruction erupted from his mouth, burning the struggling monster to ashes.

"...Prophet, what are you doing here again?" In the Village of Dawn, the Lord of Power felt the abnormality in the ceremony and sighed faintly. With her sigh, the huge eyeball suspended over the ceremony, watching everything, slowly rotated and made a sound.

The holy angel who smiled in the clean white flowers stared at her: "Little girl, your hand stretched too far."

The voice was the voice of Qi Leren, but the speaker was not him, but the Prophet in the underground ice palace in the Village of Dusk. Through Qi Leren's body, he warned the Devil of Power who was observing here and tried to intervene.

"Has it? I don't think so. But since you’ve spoken to me in person, let's call it a day. I have another thing left with you, and I will ask for it when I have time." From the huge eyeball, a buzzing inhuman sound echoed in this building.

"I'm waiting for you," said the holy angel.

The eyeball in the void disappeared, and the consciousness attached to Qi Leren left. Before leaving, he said one sentence to him: "The Illusionist is in the Dragon Ant Queen’s royal palace, and my letter is on the way, so I’ll ask this of you and Ning Zhou."

The Prophet's consciousness dissipated, and Qi Leren was still standing on the ground, with white flowers under his feet. The mechanical clock behind him had not finished three turns, so this power that did not belong to him had not disappeared.

He looked up at the magic dragon standing on the altar, and the magic dragon also stared at him. There was no dried blood on his body and claws, no evidence of his fight against evil and his downfall.

There was a lonely longing in the dragon’s eyes, and it was like a gentle sadness.

Ning Zhou understood his own destiny. Just like every powerful person, the process of becoming stronger was the process of constantly moving closer to his own original force. One day, he would forget himself, his love, how much he loved the world, and indulge himself and destroy everything under the influence of this original force.

No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself and convince himself to persist for the person he loves, he couldn’t deceive his own strength. When he had fought with the monster, he had clearly felt that he was falling. This kind of degradation was a kind of pleasure, and he didn't need to make any effort. As long as he emptied his brain, the strength in his blood would emerge continuously, making him stronger and destroying his enemies.

But when the pool of blood turned into a sea of flowers, and his lover stood in front of him in the form of an angel and looked at him, he felt sincere shame and fear for his weak compromise to strength.

He was afraid that one day he would hurt Qi Leren and the world.

"Ning Zhou." Qi Leren went up the stairs and came to the dragon.

Compared to the huge body of the dragon, he was like a pocket-sized toy. If the dragon's foot even patted him gently, he would be crushed into a pile of meat. This size gap even scared Qi Leren, but he still wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt him, insisting that the black dragon in front of him is still Ning Zhou.

The dragon closed its eyes, lowered its head slowly, and put it in front of him.

Just like it did in the lake of fire in Purgatory.

It was willing to bow to its beloved and let him comfort its body and soul with his hands.

"It's all right, it's all right..." Qi Leren murmured. The power borrowed from the Prophet had expired, the reflection of Heaven disappeared, his wings disappeared, and so did the intoxicating power. But his calming power still affected the dragon.

So the dragon gradually calmed down, and the force of destruction receded from his body, and he changed from magic dragon to human.

Qi Leren took his hand and looked at him, but his blue eyes that had always been firm avoided his sight.

This was an obviously weak and hesitant attitude, and Qi Leren certainly knew what it’s cause was. Because Ning Zhou had gotten stuck in that dead end again, the dead end that he almost killed himself because of.

He still couldn't accept a self who was a Devil, and was constantly sinking. Even if he was just doing justice as a Devil, it still caused him pain. Because at the end of this road to power, he was destined to become lost like every powerful person.

This was not something that the human will could contend with.

Qi Leren's heart was full of love that he didn’t know how to express, so he stood on tiptoe and left a comforting kiss on Ning Zhou's lips, tender and touching.

He was willing to burn himself with all his strength, as long as he could make Ning Zhou on the edge of hell feel the warmth of the world.

"I once told you, but now I have to say it again: your force has nothing to do with good and evil, and you have never fallen." Qi Leren clasped Ning Zhou's hand and repeated this sentence again.

Ning Zhou slowly rested his forehead against Qi Leren’s, relaxed his stiff body, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to hold this person tight, because this was his last salvation in the world.

-----

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[logan-is-noggin]

Wisdom Teeth

Summary: bucky takes care of you after getting your wisdom teeth removed.

word count- 1081

y/n woke up in a reclined chair that was covered in plastic, fluorescent lights flickered and she groaned from it stinging her eyes. a woman in matching blue shirt and pants with a paper mask pulled over her nose walked over to where she lay. " how are you feeling y/n? finally waking up, i see." she narrowed her eyes slightly at the nurse. " wath i not awake? i thought i wath." she said stumbling around the words. the nurse smiled. " you were napping for a bit while got our work done." " what wor-" she tried to talk around the gauze filling her mouth. the nurse stepped to the side of her chair. she reached her hand into y/n's mouth and pulled a red wet clump from one cheek, then the other. y/n looked up at her with disgust. " why am i bleeding!" " you had your wisdom teeth removed. your gums will be bleeding for a while, dont worry." you blinked a few times, your body suddenly feeling very heavy, letting yourself fall back against the chair. after placing new gauze in its place, the nurse stepped away leaving y/n with her thoughts. using her tongue, she counted her teeth. " one, two, three..." she mumbled. several times she had to start over because she couldn't figure out where tooth number fifteen started and tooth fourteen ended. while she was busy counting she didn't notice the nurse back with a wheel chair. the nurse pressed a lever that lifted the back of the chair to an upright position. " c'mon, your friends are here to take you home" she helped y/n stand up and sit down in the wheel chair. "-was counting." she complained, but the nurse just pushed the chair forward. the sudden movement made y/n's head spin and she gripped the arms of the chair. ' slow down!' but when the nurse didn't, she realized she musnt have said anything out loud. when y/n was brought into the waiting room of the hospital, bucky was at the front desk talking to the receptionist. she handed him a zip-lock bag filled with something and a few papers. the nurse had helped you out of the chair as bucky greeted you. " how are you feeling, doll?" you tilted your head in confusion" i thought i was a human." y/n proceeded to pinch a piece of skin to check that they were indeed still made of flesh. bucky shook his head. " they drugged you up good, huh?" he wrapped his covered metal hand around your waist and guided you out of the hospital. " you remember what you came here for?" bucky quizzed " of course. i sold them my teef-" y/n mumbled. you reached for your mouth, the gauze was beginning to bother you, but bucky took your hand in his " ah, ah. dont go messing with your mouth, you might mess up the stitches." " bu' mouf hurts' " you complained with a frown. y/n and bucky reached his car, Sam was waiting, his phone in hand. " we'll take care of the pain once we get home." he promised. you nodded. " can i drive?" you slurred reaching for the driver side door. " um no, id like to live please." Sam said as he laughed. you noticed Sam had his phone in his hand and he followed you with it. bucky opened the back seat and made you duck your head so you wouldn't hit it. " get in back with her so she doesn't try anything.." " why cant i drive?" Sam said back. " you didn't have to come with me, but you wanted to film her right?" Sam acquiesced and the three made their way home.

FRIDAY announced their return as they stepped out of the elevator into the compound. bucky still supported y/n as she walked, Sam followed, phone at the ready in case your drug attled brain came up with any more comedic ramblings. tony and Bruce were looking at a white board when Sam came up to them. it was also tonys idea to get y/n on camera after getting surgery, he had done the same when peter got his wisdom teeth removed the previous year.

" you guys have to watch this!" Sam said excitedly as he handed tony his phone, " just hit play.

the recording showed y/n in the backseat, she was writing something with her finger in mid air while she spoke " but the symbol for iron is Fe, and man is the same as male. so technically, iron-man translate to Fe- male. that makes iron-man a woman." then all that was heard was Sam and buckys laughter.

tony paused the phone and tossed it back " jokes on all three of you, peppers made that joke five times since mark II." bucky had taken y/n down one of the hallways that led to her apartment.it was so everyone that lived at the compound had a private space. he opened the door and helped y/n sit on her bed. she kicked her shoes off and pulled them under her. she tried to pull her blanket around her shoulders but it was stuck under her. when bucky came back with a glass of water he helped wrap the blanket around her. " 'kay, the doctor gave me this list to help you recover. " he opened the zip lock bag and pulled a pile of gauze out along with a smaller bag of capsules. " " first i gotta take the gauze out."  he had a piece all folded up at the ready. " open up doll.." so she did

" i miss you." bucky gave y/n a confused look as he reached into her cheeks to pull the bloodied gauze out. " what are you talking about, im right here." she shook her head. " no. we shouldn't 'ave broke up." she said, mouth fill of fresh gauze. bucky winced ever so slightly, knowing it wasn't right to talk about that subject with you inebriated. he handed y/n a pill and helped her take small sips till it went down. " we- we can talk about that stuff later, right now you should get some rest." y/n laid down, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket, and was soon asleep, the medicine quickly taking over. bucky watched her for a minute until her breathing evened out. he bent over, pressing a quick kiss to y/n's head before closing the door behind him as he left.

Part two

it was a few hours later since bucky had left y/n passed out in her room. bucky had spent all evening replaying those words in his head. thanks to the serum, he was able to hear when there were movements coming from y/ns room, and bucky went to go check on here, and more importantly, get some answers

bucky and y/n had dated for a while after she joined shield a while back, and bucky wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but when y/n broke things off after a measly four weeks of dating, it hurt.

bucky knocked on the semi open door of y/ns room and waited until she acknowledged him " hey, come in." she sounded much more sober than the last time they spoke. y/n was currently folding up a piece of gauze and tucking it into her gums where the teeth had been recently removed " whaths up?" she tried to speak around the cotton

" just wanted to check on you, see if you needed help." he said casually, " looks like the drugs wore off. you were acting pretty crazy for a while before." he said with a smirk.

" and i know the guys aren't gonna let me live down whatever i did to embarrass myself this time." she agreed. bucky sighed as he took a step inside the room further, " actually, i was hoping we could talk about something" he asked nervously, but y/n didn't seem to notice this and simply pat the spot on the bed, so bucky sat down

" before you passed out, i was changing your gauze, you said that you missed me. like, when we were dating.." y/ns eyebrows knit closer together " i did?" bucky nodded y/n shrugged " i guess i was just feeling sentimental. " she did remember the good moments they had together

" you also said you wanted to get back together. and i wanted to know, do you?" the question pained the both of them, and there was a silence that filled the space before y/n shifted in the bed " theres part of me that wishes we could, but i broke up with you remember?"

bucky nodded " i still think it was a sad excuse-"

" i know it was. but its the truth, my only experiences with guys lead up to me getting hurt. all forms of love ive witnessed only ends up with heartbreak, i was only trying to save you the trouble of getting attached and getting hurt like i did." she admitted.

"for what its worth, the last thing i ever want is to hurt someone,and how do you know if you never give us a real chance?" he asked

" you're right, and maybe once i dont have too many holes in my head, we could try again?" y/n asked softly. bucky leaned forward and kissed her forehead " id like that."

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Type 2

Word Count: 10,755

Overview: You were diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in high school and ever since then, you’ve been able to manage it without a problem. Sticking to a schedule and monitoring your blood was easy, but then came Jimin and suddenly, you found yourself hiding it all from him. But when your blood sugar drops dangerously low in the middle of the night, Jimin’s the only one you can call for help.

Pairing: Jimin and Reader

Genre AU/Rating: - Established Relationship AU - Medical Condition AU - Slice of Life AU - Angst - Fluff  Rated: PG-13

Warning: In order of appearance-: Implied bullying, extreme thirst, lack of appetite, weight loss, passing out, type 2 diabetes, drinking, swearing, insecurities, needles, mention of blood while using a blood glucose meter, extremely low blood sugar.

A/N: This is not the story of everyone who goes through Type 2 Diabetes. Not everyone has it when they’re in high school. This fic is loosely based on my experience with caring for my mother who is diabetic, and based on my own family’s history with this condition. My mother who almost her entire family is diabetic, so it was only a matter of time that she would become diabetic, except she was able to keep from being diagnosed until her mid to late 50s. That is not to say you can’t be diagnosed as young as high school or even in middle school, it can happen, I went to middle school with a girl who had a pump in 8th grade. This is just one story.

Master List:​

Music Playlist:

Part of the Intimacy Anthology Project

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It first started in high school.

But when you actually sat down and thought about it, the early symptoms were there a year prior in eighth grade. More often than not, your throat was dry, so you always had a water bottle next to you. Back then though it wasn’t as bad. Plus, any conversation with one of the girls who wore makeup every single day – it was always shocking when they announced that their mothers let them – swore that drinking a gallon of water a day, would help with maintaining clear skin.

Whether or not there was logic to this declaration was to be remain hidden – many years later you would learn that actually, there was no science between drinking water and having acne free skin – you and all the other girls hopped on the train. It was because of this promise of clear skin, that no one batted an eye when you began going through a bottle a day, or the fact that you were using the bathroom more often as well.

You were fourteen. Your body was changing, nothing made sense anymore. Happy one minute, then curled up in fetal position as that depressing Sarah McLachlan commercial played on the TV, and you were telling your parents that they needed to adopt a kitten because it was the right thing to do. How were you even supposed to know that what was happening, actually wasn’t all that normal?

Mom simply handed over your water bottle, a bag of the secret stash of chocolate, and a heated rice bag for the cramps, and everything was decently better.

You only thought the sudden extreme thirst was…part of it all.

In freshman year, you were going through bottles to the point that you bought a cute reusable water bottle that you decorated with stickers, never willing to admit how many times you had tipped it back for it to be empty. You weren’t exactly the poster child for going green and advocating climate change, but you weren’t stupid either and knew that the plastic bottles weren’t going to help the Earth.

The popular girls from eighth grade had surged up the ladder, and were now the queens of the freshman class and upturned noses. No longer were they giving compliments or suggestions on how to blend eyeshadow, or discussing the latest trends in fashion. Instead, they ignored the good mornings in the hallways from girls, and laughed as they slammed textbooks out of their hands. Smiles turned into grimaces, and helpful tips morphed into jeering and mean comments usually centered around everyone’s looks.

While you tried to not let their lies get to you, you couldn’t help but pause by a mirror and turn every which angle possible, trying to see the flaws that they pointed out all the time. It was confusing because to be perfectly honest, you were average. There was nothing that made you stand out from the crowd, nor did you hide in the shadows, you were simply in the middle and that never bothered you.

You never gave them the satisfaction of letting them see how their words affected you on the simple fact that they didn’t. Maybe you’d shrug, or raise an eyebrow, before turning away to drink from the trusty water bottle by your side. They meant nothing to you, but everyone around you thought that they did. Friends were quick to jump on the reassurance train, their gazes lingering on the food you barely touched. Even when it was taco Tuesday, you’d barely eat half of it or even less before getting full.

No one seemed to believe that you were full, or that drinking two whole bottles of water by noon made it impossible to shove more than a few bites down your throat.

Dinner was always hard. Sat between mom and dad, the looks they’d give each other as they watched you push at the small amount of food on your plate never went unnoticed. You’d lost track of all the times that mom came into your bedroom to ask if everything was okay, if the girls at school were saying things, or if there was perhaps a guy you were trying to impress. If only you’d gotten a dollar for every time someone asked you that, you would have been a millionaire by sixteen.

Soon you were making excuses to not have to eat around people, saying that you had made up a plate of whatever was left in the fridge and weren’t hungry. At school you started bringing a brown bag lunch. Since you weren’t eating the food you bought, it didn’t make sense to waste money on it. It took a while for your friends to get that you just weren’t hungry, but eventually they knew not to bring it up, letting you eat as little as you want and drink water.

That was fine with you. You were fine, that was what you told them and you wanted them to believe them. You didn’t want them to know that every night before bed you stood in front of the mirror on your wall, turning side to side and every which way to see the new curves from your chest to your hips, or the gap between your thighs.

They didn’t need to know that you despite the fact that you’d refill the water bottle three times a day at school, you’d refill it four additional times at home. Or how your belt now had extra holes that you had punched in it an attempt on your part to keep what was happening a secret.

Every weekend was reserved for sleepovers, movies, and at home facials with you and your friends, equally rotating between everyone’s house to keep it fair on who hosted. It was how you were able to relax and have fun, but it was hard to hide the sudden changes. At first, you started arriving already in your PJs, that way none of them had to see you change, but then they stared as you barely touched any of the snacks. The same ones that you all used to bake together. Then every time you got up to use the bathroom they’d sigh, having to pause the movie or wait for you to come back to continue playing whatever board game was out.

After three attempts, you stopped going to the sleepovers, giving some excuse that you weren’t feeling well, or that you were behind on a pile of homework. Whether they believed it or not, your friends accepted it without a second thought.

Those months of confusion and sudden changes felt like they were moving at a snail’s pace, but then one day you blinked and it was two days before Christmas, and none of your clothes fit you anymore. Everything was hanging on you, you were in the bathroom multiple times within a couple hours, and your throat felt like it was filled with sand that no matter how much water you drank, never seemed to offer any relief.

It was a vicious cycle that no one could ignore anymore. You weren’t yourself anymore, barely even a shell of the human who you had once been.

The morning it happened you had once again been in the bathroom going pee. When suddenly, your head felt heavy, too burdensome for your shoulders, so you leaned back against the wall to relieve yourself of some of the weight. Black dots filtered in your vision as you cleaned yourself up, the toilet flushing as you stumbled to the sink. The water rushed from the sink as you stood in front of the mirror, barely able to make out your own reflection and going fuzzy when you walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the water or the lights as you left. You didn’t remember even opening the door.

Someone had been walking by at the moment, although they didn’t know it, you felt like your mind was underwater, unable to think let alone speak as you tried to go back to your room. It was your mother. She stared wide eye at you stumbling around the hallway like a drunk and when she called out your name, you didn’t even hear her.

She called your name again. Then a third time. It was on the fourth that you looked over at her, your mouth moving and filled with sand, only nothing come out. The last thing you saw was her running towards you. Then it was dark.

The next time you’d open your eyes it was with a stark realization that you were no longer at home. A glance to your left revealed box monitors and tubes of all types, one of them connected to the IV in your arm and the other going to a monitor that was attached to your pointer finger. The bed wasn’t comfy and at some point, someone had changed you out of your PJs and into a light green hospital gown.

The door opened as a nurse in blue scrubs walked in, her blond ponytail pulled high up as she carried a chart, smiling when she saw you.

“Good to see that you’re awake,” she said, coming to your side to read the numbers, marking some notes down. “How are you feeling?”

Wetting your lips, you tried to speak but like always, your throat was dry.

The nurse glanced over and seeing your struggle, held up a finger as she walked to the connected bathroom, water suddenly running before being turned off as she came back with a plastic cup.

“Go slow,” she instructed, helping to bring the mattress up so you were sitting as she gave you the cup.

It took a few minutes, but when your throat wasn’t so dry, you tried again. “What happened? Where…where are my parents?”

She was changing out the IV bag for a new one, and you wondered if your body had really emptied that packet dry. “You passed out hun, but don’t worry, your parents just went to get some snacks from the vending machine. I’ll go get them and then the doctor will be right in to explain everything.”

“Am I okay?”

Her badge turned right side, showing her ID and that her name was Jenna. “Everything will be fine. The doctor will explain and answer any questions.”

You watched as Jenna connected a new IV bag, once again reassuring that she’d be back with everyone before leaving the room as the cold liquid entered your veins, surprising you with how good it felt.

Jenna kept her promise. First bring round your parents who hurried to hug you, telling you how worried they were about you and asking how you felt. In only a few short minutes the doctor came back with the nurse, smiling as she pulled out a chair to sit on.

It wasn’t cancer, nor was it anything uncommon that would puzzle the doctors on how you got, but rather something that you had heard of all the time in health classes.

You were diabetic. Type two to be exact.

They had run some blood tests and from what they were able to tell, your blood sugars had dropped low during your sleep and hadn’t gone back up when you woke. Combined with the loss of weight and dehydration you were experiencing, your body’s natural instinct was to protect itself and, in this case, that meant passing out.

The doctor reassured that it at least explained the various changes you had been experiencing, and as grateful as you were to finally understand what was going on, it now meant that your way of life was going to change, again.

Now your life revolved around using a glucose meter to check your blood sugar throughout the day, taking medicine that would help regulate your numbers, cutting back on sweets and various other foods that had tended to make them high. Slowly but surely you were able to gain back some of the weight you had lost, and the trips to the bathroom slowed down. You were living a new life trying to find the perfect balance.

One thing had been made clear by the doctor that day. This was lifelong. It was never going to go away; it was something that could only be managed.

So, you managed. All through high school, and then all through college, you managed to maintain your numbers, discovering that when you felt sluggish and off it usually meant your blood sugar was either really high or really low. Besides that, you normally felt fine and took shots at mealtimes and before bed to help regulate your levels.

That was the second, biggest change in your life. Every pill and medicine that the doctor prescribed to help with your levels had its side effects, and the world must have had a grudge on you because every single one made you ill or have a reaction. Usually insulin was a last resort option, but in your case, it was the only thing that appeared to help.

Downside to taking the shots were the prices, they were the true killer, but like everything in your life, you managed it all. Your parents of course worried, and the day you had moved out was perhaps the most nerve wracking for them. You were going to be on your own for the first time ever, it was a big moment, and as much as you appreciated and loved them, it was time for you leave home.

Having this new lifestyle didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything; your life was perhaps more or less the same as any other adult that you knew who was your age. Went to work five days a week as a dental hygienist, spent the weekends catching up on chores, and binge watching the latest shows on Netflix.

The only thing missing, was a love life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t try. There were multiple first dates and a couple second dates, but rarely was there a third. No matter what you did or how you tried to explain it, they all got uncomfortable when you mentioned that you were diabetic. At first it didn’t seem like it would be an issue. But when you’d get up a few minutes before the meal came and you’d explain that you needed to take a shot, they all clammed up. Like they were suddenly realizing that what you were more trouble than you originally appeared to be. That you actually had a condition that affected your life.

After that they’d stop calling, the texts they’d send were more apologetic and that they were busy. There were never anymore dates after that, and unable to help yourself you’d check their social media, not surprised when there were new pictures with a new girl, usually captioned with some type of heart emoji.

If they were dumping you for something that was out of your control, then you were the lucky one for avoiding what could be a toxic relationship. At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was good that you were waiting for the right person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. How could anyone decide that you weren’t worth the time simply because you needed to take insulin?

You were a human being. Nowhere did it say you didn’t deserve love.

Despite that mindset, you once again found yourself coming home from a date that had no future of a third. Tossing your keys on the bed, you rummaged around your purse for the two cases stashed inside, still dressed in the cute outfit that had taken a majority of the morning to decide on. The cases themselves were adorable, and pretty cheap on Amazon. The first was purple and no bigger than your palm while zipped up. The second one was a light blue wristlet that was slightly longer.

You sighed while setting them on the nightstand, resentment filling your heart. The purple bag contained your pen and glucose meter with the test strips, and the other had your insulin, alcohol wipes, and spare needles. They were the very things that you needed to stay alive. They told you your numbers, it was how you decided on how many units to take with meals, and yet, they appeared to be a part of the reason that you couldn’t seem to hold on to a relationship.

It just fucking…sucked.

No longer caring that you had spent several hours to get the curls just right, you ran a hand through your hair. Mike had made it clear after your explanation for why you needed the light blue case just to go to the bathroom, that there wasn’t going to be a second date.

Which is fine, you thought, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs up to sit criss cross on the bed. He only talked about himself the entire time. And his ex-wife.

Maybe it was because you were telling them early on. Wasn’t there some unwritten rule about not talking about medical things on the first couple dates? Granted, a majority of them wanted to go out to eat for the dates and you couldn’t exactly not take a shot, but it wasn’t like you were doing it right there at the table. You always went to the restroom and used the stall with the changing table to be able to lay everything out.

Glancing at the two cases, you pressed your lips together. This was a major part of your life; it was part of your identity. But maybe…maybe if they didn’t know? What if you hid this from the next guy? It probably wouldn’t do much, if it did, were you really going to hide such an important part of yourself in the name of love?

They always seem to run off when I tell them, you thought. What’s the harm in waiting, and seeing if it’ll last more than a few dates before I tell?

It seemed pretty extreme. But there was only one way to find out.

As you settled back against the pillows, turning on Netflix once again, you couldn’t but hope that this didn’t backfire on you.

“You did what?”

Pressing your lips together, you rested your forehead against the fridge. It was a bad idea to tell you best friend what you had done. You knew that she’d say it was wrong to lie, to hide such an important part of your life from him. She was the voice of logic and reason, which was terrifying at times, but that was Kayla.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge, you glanced over your shoulder. She was staring at you, eyebrow raised as she tapped her nails against the table, waiting to hear your excuse.

“I…I haven’t told him.”

“And you’ve been dating for how long now?”

You stirred the mug until it was caramel in color, starring down at the coffee and partially wishing that you could shrink and run away from her reaction. “Three months.”

“Dude!”

Wincing, you stashed the milk away to carry the two cups of coffee to the table, setting Kayla’s down on the cozy you had out. She thanked you, absentmindedly stirring the spoon out of habit.

It was a Saturday ritual the two of you had since meeting in college. The two of you bonded while waiting in an excessive line for coffee on campus, and despite it being ridiculously long, neither one of you was willing to leave. Coffee was what you considered your life blood, and funny enough, so didn’t Kayla.

That day forward, the two of you always got coffee together before classes, and on Saturdays you bought a box of munchkins with iced coffee before retreating back to the lounge to relax and bitch about anything and everything. She knew about your diabetes, didn’t mind that you could only have a few treats before stopping, and when she hung out in your dorm room, she hadn’t been uncomfortable with seeing you having to take a shot.

After that semester, the two of you became roommates for the reminder of college. Even after graduating and moving out in the real world, getting real jobs, Saturdays were still for coffee and bitchin’.

“Walk me through this decision again?” She asked, reaching over for one of the glazed munchkins.

You lightly tapped the spoon against the rim of the coffee mug, slouching in your seat as you wrapped your fingers around it. The warmth spread through your fingers instantly, soothing a few nerves for the moment. Kayla was your best friend yes, but she also had very strong opinions.

“I was just, sick of finding dead ends,” you answered, staring down at the mud colored coffee. Just the way you liked it. “Every time I had explained that I needed to take a shot to manage my blood sugar, they all froze up. And then they’d tell me after the date ended that it wasn’t going to work, or they’d ghost me without any warning.”

It sucked. It really did, but for once you just wanted to be with someone and be happy. There had already been too many times that you’d gotten your hopes up over a guy only for it to end, without even an explanation no less.

Kayla covered your hand with hers, gently squeezing when you looked up at her. Her red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her freckles scattered across her face and body. She refused to cover them up with makeup, and even then, you wouldn’t dare let her do so either. As much as you treasured her, you had witnessed first-hand her attempting to do makeup so badly that it nearly sent you to cardiac arrest.

“Hey,” she softly said. “Those guys were dick bags, there’s no need to beat yourself over them.”

Chuckling, you raised the mug to your lips, glancing in the living room. The apartment wasn’t the largest or the fanciest, but you were able to leave a piece of yourself in each room. Sunlight streamed through the bay window and through the dream-catcher you had hanging on the lock. Bailey, Kayla’s little teacup terrier, was taking advantage of said light and was napping on the couch.

“I’m guessing I should have sent them all to you?”

“Of course,” Kayla agreed, leaning back in the chair. “I would have kicked their asses and told them what type of scum they are.”

You reached over for your own munchkin, placing it on the saucer to break it in half. “Sorry, but I think you’ve missed your chance.”

“Dammit.”

Amused, you popped a piece into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate. Life had certainly taken the two of you in directions that neither of you expected, but you treasured these Saturdays. It was like nothing had changed and you were back in college, talking about the classmates that annoyed the crap out of you, pointing out the cute ones, and procrastinating on the assignments that needed to be done.

“So, are you going to tell me about him?” Kayla asked. “Last thing you said was that your neighbor was setting you up. Does he deserve the best friend approval?”

At the thought of Jimin, you were grinning into your coffee, coyly trying to avoid eye contact with her as she squealed. Her reaction was so strong that it woke Bailey up, causing her to bark a few times. Which was more adorable than it was intimidating like the dog probably thought.

  Flipping your phone screen side up, you went to go find a picture of him for her. “He’s very, very sweet,” you said, handing the device over for her to scroll through. “And kind. He works at the animal shelter in town, loves to take Polaroid pictures, and he indulges in my coffee addiction.”

“I love him already.”

You grinned at that, taking a drink as she cooed and laughed at the various photos, and you began to tell her the story about how you met him.

As much as you hate to admit it, you had been apprehensive about your downstairs neighbor set you up with his friend for a blind date. It wasn’t that you were complete strangers with Taehyung - the guy was pretty chill and kept things interesting with constantly dying his hair - it had been more along the lines that you didn’t know much about him besides the conversations the you shared before going your separate ways.

According to your neighbor, your dating life – or non-existent one – hadn’t gone amiss on him either, and conveniently had a friend who was also in the single pool for quite some time, so he thought it would be nice to help you out. Actually no, he flat out told you he was setting the two of you up for a date. With only a moment’s hesitation were you able to say no dinner dates before he disappeared inside, tossing a thumb’s up over his shoulder for you and shut the door.

The next morning when you left for work, there was a sticky note on your door telling you to be at the 10th annual Flower Shower festival that Saturday for one. Jimin would be waiting at Paws for Days, the animal shelter.

The Flower Shower festival the town’s way of sharing their love of flowers and nature with everyone. Every shop that decided to participate in the event was assigned a different type of flower, and with that, they decorated their stores with it. They were then automatically entered into a contest to see who was the most creative with their assigned floral. First place was given a trophy stating that they were the winners of that year’s festival, and second and third were given ribbons and a plant of their choice.

What made it such a hit, was perhaps was the event that gave it its namesake. During the day, not only were there flowers decorated on the storefronts, but each company was able to hand out coupons for their flower that could be turned in at one of the many floral shops in the area. There were stalls for making and selling flower crowns, jewelry, perfumes, anything and everything imaginable that could incorporate flowers into a product filled the streets to be sold. Even food vendors went all out with all the stops.

Filling in any empty spaces were local artists, using any and all varieties of flowers to create sculptures, sometimes of small animals that a person could hold in their hands, to ones so large that it required ladders and multiple hands to help. Face and body painters had kids and adults of all ages waiting in line, eagerly handing over the few bucks to be decorated with flowers and various other decorative forms of flower power.

It was like the hippie movement met modern times for a day.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all the events, was the parade that happened at the end of the day. The festival couldn’t last all night since it would be hard to see the flowers, so the ending parade occurred at six. All the contest participants and winners walked along with the vendors and painters, each carrying baskets with flower petals or single flowers to throw out to the crowd, and while they held the attention of everyone, up on the rooftops of all the buildings were volunteers who waited for their to cue to toss buckets of petals on to the crowd below. It was as if the entire world was hitting pause on the bitterness of life, to enjoy a moment of beauty to take a shower, made out of flowers.

You never knew what it was about flowers that had the entire town obsessed with them, there were at least six shops dedicated to flowers and bouquets – one at least in particular focused mainly on gardening tools, sculptures, and fountains – within the downtown area.

Which made having your first date with Jimin at the Flower Shower festival all the more pleasing. It was more exciting and had plenty of things to do than going to another restaurant, but at the same time, a bit nerve wracking. Not only was it another first date, with a guy that you’ve never met in your life, hoping that your neighbor hadn’t set you up with some weirdo. This was the first date you were going on with the decision to not tell him about being diabetic.

Even though you weren’t going to bring it up, you still packed the cases into your purse, not wanting to risk needing it and not having them on you. After dressing in shorts and a loose flowery blouse with sandals, even doing your makeup lightly to match with the summer theme, you were ready to go out. Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, but your hand had been shaking to the point that you had to set down the mascara brush or stab yourself in the eye with it.

This was your first chance at seeing if it really made such an impact on your love life, making it felt like you were stepping into the dating scene all over again. That was what made it terrifying. This simple date would tell you whether or not you weren’t able to hold a relationship because of your lifestyle, or if it was because of you.

If it was because of the needles, then that you could understand. Not everyone was fond of them, and dealing with having to give yourself shots four times a day can be annoying at times, but if it was because of you in general…well, that was the ultimate sucker punch to the gut.

Before you could let yourself get lost in the sink hole of self-doubt, you forced yourself to leave, locking the door without even thinking to double check that you had everything that you needed. Luckily, you did.

It was to your advantage that you lived downtown. Walking to the shops only took five, maybe ten minutes if you were feeling lazy and with the location of Paws for Days in mind, you headed down the street in its direction.

The sun was high in the sky, occasionally blinding you when you passed by the tall buildings and gaps in the trees, but you felt the heat of the sun on your arms, and saw the clear bright blue sky overhead. It all helped to take your mind off what Jimin was like. Hell, you didn’t even know what he looked like. All that Taehyung wrote was that he would be outside by the shelter’s sign.

Nearing the heart of town, you weren’t all that surprised to see that nearly everyone in town was walking the streets, making it almost impossible to tell them apart from the people who were working.

Paws for Days was a street down from being smack in the center of town, and resembled a large farmhouse with floor to ceiling windows on the front entrance, allowing everyone to look in and see the cats and occasional dog walking around the front of the store. They took in animals of every breed, and were also a no-kill shelter. During the warm months it was common to hear dogs barking in the larger fenced in area behind the building as the animals played and ran about, enjoying the time out in the sun.

As you neared the shelter, it was the sound of barking and kids laughing that made you smile. In their front lawn, staff had set up play pen areas for the smaller dogs to sit out on the grass and roll around. Parents with babies carefully held them as they leaned down, allowing their child to gently pet animals and laughing as their palms get licked. There were other areas for the larger dogs, but a large banner that was attached to the shelter’s roof stole your attention.

Paws for Days 10th Annual Adoption Day!

You hadn’t realized that in addition to it being the tenth anniversary of the Flower Shower festival, it was also an anniversary for the shelter as well. Staff was walking around with blue shirts with the name of the shelter written in black, a little black paw print serving as the period. Flower crowns made out of orange cream roses sat on everyone’s head, and as you looked around, a group of people around your age appeared to be constructing a giant sculpture of a…well, it had paws and the lower half of an animal body.

Maybe later you’d come back and see what it turned out to be.

Continuing towards the shelter, you tried to look for the sign, but with a swarm of people walking in your way so they could either play with the animals or actually go inside to adopt, it took a little longer to reach your destination.

  When you finally broke through and stepped away to the side to catch a breather, you were able to see the shelter’s wooden sign. To no one’s surprise, there was a stone statue of a cat and dog sitting next to each other, with a bird on top of the dog’s head. It was adorable.

The man standing next to the sign however, was godly looking.

“No, fucking way,” you said, taking advantage of the fact that he was looking at his phone to stare at him.

The fact that his hair was dyed wasn’t shocking – you had partially expected that considering Taehyung was always dying his – but the mix of pink and orange hues suited Jimin so perfectly that it appeared natural on him. The sunlight glinted off of the silver chained earring he wore along with the silver rings on his fingers, all while standing out in a black t-shirt and jeans despite it being warm out. To top it all off, an orange cream rose flower crown that matched his hair color perfectly, was carefully placed on his head to resemble a halo, and he held on to a spare in his free hand.

Taehyung had completely, and utterly, forgotten to mention that his single friend, was insanely hot.

Maybe…maybe that’s not him, you thought, carefully wetting your lips as you walked over to him. Maybe this is some other guy, standing right where Taehyung had said, and was waiting for someone else.

He slipped his phone into his pocket before you were able to reach him and looked up, meeting to meet your gaze. The wire framed sunglasses he wore were tinted with pink lenses.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft and gentle, putting your nerves at ease as he smiled widely when you got closer. “You’re Taehyung’s neighbor, right?”

You shyly smiled, nodding as you supplied your name, which only helped to make the corner of Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he repeated your name. To you, your name was just that, a name. Nothing more and nothing less. But hearing he say it, it was like a pretty melody slipping out of his mouth.

Jimin held up the spare flower crown, pressing his lips together as he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you one. Is it okay if I…?”

“Of course,” you answered. It was sweet that he had gotten one for you, and as he stepped closer to put it on your head, you felt your cheeks warming up at how close he was. You were even able to catch a whiff of his cologne, just the faintest scent that wasn’t overwhelming like how some people tended to bathe in perfume.

“They’re roses,” Jimin explained, adjusting the crown so it sat on your head like his. “Orange roses. I had to ask for them specifically in case any of the animals tried eating them. Roses at least, are not as poisonous as a lot of other flowers.”

“They’re still toxic to them though, right?”

Jimin leaned back, quirking an eyebrow as his smile softened to grin. “Well, I don’t recommend eating them, for either animals or humans. They’ll probably make you sick...”

“He’s a smartass just like us,” Kayla interrupted, grinning as she handed you back your phone.

Laughing, you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he can be. But he’s just, one of the sweetest guys I’ve met.” Double tapping your phone, the lock screen revealed itself to be a picture of Jimin. You had taken it one day when you went and visited him at the shelter. He had been holding one of the calico cats, even rubbing his nose against hers, and your heart melted at the sight. Now your heart melted every time you turned on your phone.

“And he really has no idea?”

The room fell silent then. Which wasn’t surprising considering that the two of you were introverts at heart, but together, you were loud and proud. Add in coffee and the entire world better watch out.

“Jimin’s seen me check my blood,” you slowly answered. The phone screen went black when you didn’t swipe it. “He saw the meter one day, so I explained that with my family history, that I have it as a way to monitor my blood.”

Usually, you had been so good about hiding your meter and needles when Jimin came around to your home. For some reason on that day, it had slipped your mind and the next thing you knew, Jimin was holding it up and asking about it.

You weren’t outright lying. The family history wasn’t that decent, and you did have to check your blood, so it was more of a partial truth. Maybe it was because he had seemed curious and interested in the item, but ever since that day, guilt had been gnawing away at your heart. You were still avoiding the truth, and if you wanted this relationship to work out, the only way it could would be if you told him.

Looking away from the coffee, you pressed your lips together upon seeing the way Kayla was gazing at you, her eyes softening as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. There were no words needed however. You knew that it wasn’t going to end well if you remained silent, but the lingering fear was still there.

What if it was too much for Jimin? What if after you told him, he decided that it wasn’t worth it? That you, weren’t worth it?

It was all just…terrifying.

“You know,” Kayla gently said, reaching out and reassuringly squeezed your hand. “If for some reason, it doesn’t work out…Bailey and I got a spare room for you to have.”

She had offered you the spare room more times than you could remember, especially after graduation, but you loved the town you grew up in. It was home and had everything you always wanted. But you squeezed her hand back tightly, looking up at her with a smile.

“I thought that was Bailey’s room?”

“Oh, it is. She’s fucking spoiled rotten. You’re the only human being I’d sacrifice my queen-sized bed for a bunk bed.”

Laughing, you shook your head as Kayla joined in. Even Bailey tried barking at the sudden noise.

You had to tell Jimin the truth. There was no if, ands, or buts about it. For right now, you were willing to pretend for a little bit longer, wanting to savor in his love before it all came crashing down.

You leaned over Jimin, stretching your hand out for the wine glass on the coffee table, his palm sliding down your back to your hip as you moved about. When you settled back against his side, the wine glass in hand, his chest shook as he chuckled when you tried to take a sip only to realize that you would have to sit up to get a decent drink.

“Oh shush,” you murmured, lightly swiping at his shoulder.

It only made Jimin giggle even more though, and a glance at his own wine glass that was sitting on the wooden floor by the couch revealed it to be empty. You were still on your first, knowing full well that there was a chance that a glass of your beloved Witching Hour Red Blend wine might spike your blood sugar, but Jimin had finished his first one within a half hour after arriving for dinner.

Not that you were going to judge. It was Friday night, neither of you had work tomorrow, and it was so damn good. There was no harm in letting loose and indulging in the fun adult drinks.

His keys were on the coffee table next to the black wine bottle along with his phone, and you must have eyed them for longer than you thought because next thing you knew, his hand was trailing up your back as he pushed himself up, capturing your attention.

“Sleepover?” Jimin said, locks of his pink hair falling into his gaze.

Smiling, you hummed in agreement, partially relieved that he wouldn’t go out driving, and partially thriving at the idea of waking up next to him tomorrow morning.

“Good, that means I can do this then…”

You frowned at first, suddenly gasping as the glass clinked against the rings on his fingers when he took your glass and raised it to his lips, successfully drinking about half of it in one gulp.

“You have your own glass,” you whined, pouting at the small amount he had left for you.

Jimin only grinned, setting the glass down on the table before pulling you close until he was able to claim you for a kiss. His lips tasted rich like cherries, and whether it was the wine talking or not, but he felt more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever had.

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip before slipping in, his arms wrapping around your waist as the kiss grew in intensity, your hands unashamedly going under his t-shirt to roam up his body. Before you were able to crawl on top of him, he broke the kiss.

“No offense,” Jimin said, kissing your forehead to make up for suddenly stopping. “But your couch sucks to have sex on.”

That put a halt to where you mind had been going, recalling the one time the two of you ended up fucking on the couch. It had been rushed and both of you were too horny to even think about going to the bedroom.

“Yeah,” you agreed, giggling as you stood, taking the bottle and slipping your own glass between your fingers. With a coy smile, you walked backwards to your bedroom. “Good thing I have a fucking awesome bed though.”

His laughter filled the room as he swiped up his own glass, hurrying after you, and not just because you were holding the rest of wine hostage with the promise of sex, but because you were the one sweetly carrying his heart.

Blinking your eyes open, you frowned as you stared up at the ceiling, cold sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, the sheets wet underneath your back. You glanced to your side, the bright red numbers of the clock reading 3:00 A.M in the dark room, and on your right, Jimin’s soft snores reassured you that he was still asleep.

So why were you wide awake?

With careful movements, you moved so you were sitting on the edge of the bed, ignoring how the air hit your wet back. It was as if someone had turned up the heat despite it being summer. Everything was pointing towards a bad dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you woke up from a nightmare, unable to recall it but be drenched in sweat. It was with that mindset that you leaned down to pick up Jimin’s shirt, slipping it on to go to the bathroom, but the moment you stood on your own feet, the world slanted.

You barely caught yourself against the wall as you stumbled forward, feeling lost in a haze as you kept walking until you felt the sharp coldness of wooden floors on the bottom of your feet. The faint glow of the orange nightlight in a socket was blurry, acting as a guide as you stumbled around, trying to reach the kitchen table.

The meter. You needed your meter.

Head heavy, your heart raced in your chest when you suddenly felt the floor underneath you. A sharp pain slicing through your hip and a harsh whack had your leg aching, but it cleared away the haze, allowing you to think as you leaned against what you felt to be the couch.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness but you didn’t dare risk standing, but you couldn’t just sit there. There was nothing within your reach for you to grab and make noise. The last time something like this had happened was back in high school, and that had been when you ended up in the hospital. Whimpering, your body felt heavy as you tried to move, the soft pap sound of footsteps echoing in the short hallway barely catching your attention.

“Baby? I heard a thud, you okay?”

The light suddenly came on, burning your eyes as you tried to move, but like when you had first stood up, your head felt twenty pounds heavier, forcing you to lean back against the couch.

“What the fuck? Baby?!”

Jimin’s feet slammed against the floor as he hurried to sit in front of you, eyes wide awake as he cupped your cheek and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you to rest against his chest. His fingers were blissfully cold compared to your heated skin, and for several moments, all you could focus on was his touch, unable to hear him call out your name several times.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shakily inhaled as you tried to focus and ignore the way the world seemed to suddenly tilt again. “My meter,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I need to check my blood. Something…something’s wrong.”

Vaguely you pointed towards the kitchen table, but luckily, Jimin had seen you place the meter there on multiple occasions. After leaning you against the couch again, he hurried to the table, pushing random notebooks and mail out of the way to find the purple bag. With a tug at the zipper, it revealed the meter and pen you needed.

“Hey baby, stay awake, please.” Jimin said, gently touching the side of your face, still holding on to the bag and its contents. Despite having watched you use them; he didn’t understand how to work the machine.

Maneuvering his way behind you once again, his legs were on either side of you as he pulled you to his chest. The shirt you wore was damp and he tried to move your hair off your neck and forehead.

It took a few moments, hands fumbling as you put a test strip into the meter and using the pen to prick your finger, the blood pooling up without even having to squeeze the area. The screen beeped as it calculated the glucose level, beeping again with a final result.

“It says fifty,” Jimin read aloud. “Is that…is that not good?”

“No,” you said, eyes wide as you stared at the meter, knowing that it would get worse if it got any lower. “It’s too low, I need…sugar. Orange juice, ice cream, something.”

Lifting your hand up to the arm of the chair, you tried to pull yourself up to get something, but Jimin’s heart raced at the prospect of you trying to walk around in this state, so he held you tighter to keep you on the ground and stood up himself.

“I’ll get it,” he said. He didn’t even give you a chance to argue. Instead he hurried to get the food you had mentioned, already figuring that you needed stuff that either had natural sugars, or were found in the junk food.

His arms were full with food and dishes when he came back, not knowing what exactly you wanted or would be best for this situation. Even though he wanted to help out, wanted to make this easier and go away, he had no idea what to do. Never in his life had he come across a situation that was like this. All he knew was that from the way you were moving so slow and how there was little to no color to your skin, this wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell Jimin. Out of every scenario that you’ve mulled over, this wasn’t even in the top twenty. To find you in a state like this so soon in the relationship must be a scene out of a nightmare for him.

Seeing the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream he had gotten out, you reached over and grabbed it along with the spoon. The treat was rarely touched since it was stashed away for special occasions that you treated yourself to, but this time you took a spoonful of the Half Baked delight, wishing that this was a chance where you could relax and enjoy it.

While you were eating that spoonful, Jimin quietly removed himself from you. He didn’t speak as he went into the bathroom, the water running loudly in the otherwise silent house before it was turned off just as quickly, and returned to his place behind you. It was without a word that he gently gathered your hair, bringing it into the messy bun that you always threw it up in when the two of you decided on having a lazy day. The task at hand was almost all but forgotten when the cold cloth was set on the back of your neck.

The gesture itself had your eyes stinging, the reality of everything suddenly crashing around you and how this could have gone if Jimin wasn’t here. The shirt was originally Jimin’s and while his clothes usually hung on you, had been clinging to your skin and making it impossible for you to forget about. It hadn’t been the biggest concern you had at the moment, which forced you to put it to the back of your mind for the time being.

A stray whimper escaped your lips, capturing Jimin’s attention as you set the ice cream container down to cover your face with your hands, silencing the cries and trying to hide from him. He wasn’t running away or staring at you like something was wrong, nor was he accusing you of lying and deceiving him. Instead, he simply rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck and cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby,” Jimin murmured, tilting his head to add a kiss to your shaking shoulders. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, let’s get your blood sugar where it needs to be.”

As reassuring as that was, it only made you cry harder, the tears slipping through your fingers and dripping on to your thighs. He was right. You needed to focus on your blood sugar, but his soft whispers and the way his hands gently rubbed and squeezed your legs meant so much more.

For the first time in so long, a guy wasn’t disgusted by you. Instead he was here, doing the things that he could to help, and he was loving you.

When you finally felt like you could keep going, you sniffed and lifted your head, the lightest of touches caressing your cheek had your heart thumping. Again, you checked your blood. It went up ten points, but you sighed, and scooped out another spoonful of the ice cream in an attempt to raise it. It would probably be sky high by the time morning arrived, but it wasn’t going up fast enough at the moment.

Over the course of an hour, you sat on the floor in-between Jimin’s legs, checking your blood every ten minutes to see if it had gone up, and alternating between spoonsful of ice cream, cups of orange juice and peanut butter crackers, a combination that had your nose scrunching up every time.

Jimin stayed the entire time, only getting up to put away some of the food that you weren’t eating. Even after that he retook his spot and held you just tight enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting you go.

By the time it finally reached one hundred, you pushed the container of ice cream away from you and leaned back into Jimin’s embrace. It was still low. No longer did you feel out of control of your body, the sweat had dried to your skin and if you were to stand, you were certain that there wouldn’t be any more stumbling on your part. Although you doubted that Jimin would let you out of his sight for the next few days.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Wide awake in the dead of night, apparently not seeing any other option, Jimin reached out for the ice cream and took a spoonful for himself. The gesture itself was so simple, so ordinary, as if the two of you always woke up at the hour dedicated to artists who found solace under the stars and moon, to share a pint of ice cream on the living room floor, that you giggled.

Raising an eyebrow, the corner of Jimin’s mouth curled upwards at the sound of your laugh. He hadn’t realized that this scare would make him miss such a pretty sound so much. Licking the rest of the spoon clean as he maintained eye contact with you, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make you laugh once more.

As much as you would rather spend the rest of the time making each other laugh and eating to your heart’s desire, you knew that he was owed an explanation to everything that’s happened.

“I was diagnosed in high school,” you said. Your gaze fell from his face to the floor, only then noticing that Jimin didn’t have any pants on. He had come rushing out in only his boxers and stayed in them this entire time. “I’m a type two diabetic, which means that my body produces the insulin that it needs, but for some reason my body doesn’t process it and rejects it.”

Jimin patiently listened to your explanation. As you spoke, the invisible weight that had settled on your shoulders when you decided to hide this part of your life was being chipped away at, piece by piece until it felt like you were free. The nerves didn’t fly away, instead they settled nicely in your stomach for the time being, not making themselves known until you closed your mouth, waiting for his reaction.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand to run it through his hair. “Does this happen a lot? Your levels dropping like this?”

“No. This…” you set a hand on his thigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know what happened. I took my shot before dinner, and then I took my night one.”

“Baby, I never saw you take any shot.”

Pressing your lips together, you closed your eyes, the butterflies having found the perfect moment to take flight right then and there. This was it, the moment you had been dreading this entire time. “I… I had my bag with my insulin pens and needles hiding in the bathroom.” You admitted.

His eyes scanned over you, making a mental note that you wouldn’t look at him and how your kept on rubbing your arm. Suddenly it made sense why you were always sneaking off to the restroom anytime the two of you went out to eat, and how you’d tap your nails and watch for the waiter when it took longer than you expected for the food to come out. “How long have you been hiding this?”

“Since we started dating.”

Jimin’s arms tightened around your waist, the reassuring weight of his head on your shoulder was now gone, and in that split second, your heart stopped. He was moving away, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be with you anymore, he—

Suddenly you were no longer staring at the floor in front of you, but Jimin’s bare chest until his fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look him straight on. His dark brown eyes that usually disappeared when he was smiling and laughing, appeared to be drowning in the tears that slid down his cheeks.

“Why…why wouldn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice light and cracking with every word while his bottom lip trembled. “What if I wasn’t here? You…you could have been on the floor until morning. And if this is how you get when it’s this low, it would have been worse if you waited to get help, or until someone found you.”

His hands were roaming around your back as he spoke, unable to settle down, like he had to constantly reassure himself that you were conscious and talking to him. It was only when he shook his head, a soft coo leaving his lips as he cupped your cheeks to run his fingers underneath your eyes, that you realized that you were crying too.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you had hid this from him. All he could think about was you being alone when this happened. It tore at him the possibility of you ending up in the hospital, or worse, you laying on the ground until you either made your way to a phone, or someone stumbling upon you on accident.

It plagued his heart, making it ache as he tilted his head to gently kiss your forehead. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

It was such a simple reason for why you didn’t, but one that was without a doubt, rooted in your own selfish desire to protect yourself. Most importantly, to protect your heart from having to deal with constantly being let down by the men you let into your life. The idea had sprung out of fear and doubt, but every day that you spent with Jimin was enough to set those thoughts aside.

All the silly dates. The terrifying night where he let you help him dye his hair, the way his fingers traced your body with paths he long since memorized, and an afternoon where the two of you stayed inside while rain pattered against the windows when he suddenly said I love you, were enough to make you realize that Jimin wasn’t going run away.

Your eyes stung and tears slipped faster down your cheeks as you moved to press your forehead against his chest, his arms hugging your tightly. There was nothing for you to grip on to except his body, but you held on to him anyway.

Sensing that this ran deeper than you were ready to admit, Jimin gently kissed your cheek, resting his head against yours as he held you, softly stroking your back. His own back was sore from being hunched over for the last hour or so, and sitting on the floor was starting to leave an ache in his ass, but he was going to stay right there. As long as you needed him, he was going to be there, wherever and whenever you wanted him.

“It’s okay baby,” he said once your tears slowed down in volume. “We’re in this together, I promise.”

Those words had you wanting to cry all over again. For the first time in so long, someone wanted to stay with you, to help you, to love you for you, and that included the fact that you needed to constantly check your blood sugar and take insulin with your meals, and an additional one before bed. It was terrifying, a first, but so freeing at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shakily kissing his chest in an attempt to fix some of the damage your secret has done. “I’m so sorry Jimin.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he kissed your cheek again, his arms tightening just the slightest. Condensation from the ice cream was pooling on the floor and the mini candy bars that he had found were scattered about. Your meter was right beside him. Outside, the birds that had made their homes in the trees near your apartment were singing their sweet lungs out, a noise that usually made both of you want to bury your faces in the pillows. This time, it had Jimin looking towards the bay window and the sheer yellow curtains.

It was still dark out, but within an hour, the night sky would give birth to morning.

Glancing down, he saw that your legs were already wrapped around his waist. With no other reason not to, Jimin carefully stood up, using one arm to pull himself up by the couch and the other keeping a hold on you. He ignored the yelps and questions that left your mouth.

Instead, he settled down on the bay window and stretched his legs out in front of him, only loosening his grip on you when he was certain you wouldn’t slip and fall on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You said, cautiously letting go of Jimin to straighten up. It wasn’t the first time that he ever picked you up without warning, in fact, his habit of doing so was close to becoming normal. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t like a warning in advance occasionally.

He leaned backwards against the window pane, drawing his right leg up until he was able to prop his arm on his knee as he smiled at you. “Have you ever seen the sun rise?”

The question was so random, so opposite of everything that had been happening for the last hour and yet, your mind honed in on it and took advantage of the its simplicity. Shaking your head, Jimin’s smile grew as he tapped his thigh. His own way to gesture for you to turn and rest against his chest that you had learned early on in the relationship.

“The ice cream’s going to melt.”

You turned around however, once again leaning backwards against Jimin’s chest as his free arm encircled your body, pulling you firming in place.

“We’ll take care of that later. We’ll take care of everything later, I promise. Right now, I just want to watch the sun rise, with you.”

“You’re not mad at me?” You suddenly asked, staring at the early morning sky.

The other apartments and houses in the neighborhood were nothing more but shadows for the time being, and you weren’t entirely sure if the living room was facing the east or not. You didn’t tell him that though.

“No baby,” Jimin softly said, staring at the sky as well. “I’m a bit disappointed, and honestly, I’m still a little scared about what happened. But I’m not mad at you.”

Feeling his chest lift with a deep breath, you relaxed in his embrace. This wasn’t the end of the conversation. He deserved a real explanation for why you never told him, and he would get it this time.

As you shifted slightly, Jimin adjusted his arm with your movements, a soft chuckle escaping when you played with some of the silver rings that he had forgotten to take off before going to sleep.

“I love you.”

Your fingers paused, watching his fingers move and lace themselves with yours, calming your heart so it was no longer racing. Any butterflies that had been hanging around in-case there was a to be a second round of sudden doubt finally settled down, allowing you to enjoy this moment with Jimin. Instead of fear, a blanket of content draped itself on top of you.

“I love you too,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss.

Somewhere out there, a bird was returning the melody of another song under the moonlight, and running on only a few hours of sleep wasn’t ideal. While it wasn’t the night that you planned or expected to have, as you waited for the sun to rise, Jimin occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles, there wasn’t anywhere else you wanted to be.

It wasn’t planned, nor was the leading up to it ideal, but it was pretty damn perfect.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Drugged”

You will all have to forgive me for not posting the last few days. I went on vacation with family then had a couple tests and then ended up in the ER, so busy week, but i cooked something up for you all. Forgive me if it has issues, see above paragraph or my excuse :)

It is not specifically a human phenomenon, the use of chemicals, to help and support the body. It is, however, a much more complicated field of study for humans. Most species react the same exact way to a drug that any other member of their species would. Many of our species have found specific drugs that cause only minor physiological side effects despite their potency. The system of the non-human body has multiple unrelated systems that are unaffected by one specific drug or another

Humanity on the other hand, is a different story.

The cocktail of chemicals in the human brain integrate into a system that provides the body with a perfect storm of reactions. While most aliens only experience the physiological side effects related to the action of the drug upon an injury , say a numbing sensation or the reduced motility of digestion, humans are some of the only known species to experience extreme psychological effects due to drugs.

In many cases humans will present with wildly different reactions to the same drug as presented in this paper. Though, I find that the most interesting drug reaction, in humans to be those that take place in the brain, specifically the ones causing, or related to sedation, weather that sedation b mild or complete.

…. Let's be honest though, I mostly just find it entertaining.

***

The board of surgical experts was getting ready to convene their conference about human anatomy when it happened. The Summit was taking place on the rundi homeworld courtesy of the GA council. Humanity had proven to be the most difficult species to treat, not simply for their staggering ability to stay alive, but for the numerous drug actions and reactions that could take place in the body.. Rill had been planning to do a lecture during the session, but as per usual, he was cut off by the humans.

The council doors thundered open and one of the marines ran into the room causing quite a stir. Those clinicians who had never before seen a human gasped in shock and awe at the creature’s powerful speed and grace. He came skidding to a stop at the center of the room, barely winded head turning, dark eyes frantically searching the room and zeroing in on Krill, who stood at the front of the auditorium.

“Kill, Krill, something happened. We need your help like, right now..”

If krill had had the capability to roll his eyes, he would have. Taking care of humans was a disaster sometimes. The rest of the auditorium took to their feet in curiosity and, fear, in some cases.

“What happened now?” he wondered 

The marine rubbed the back of his head a little sheepishly, “Well uh, we were just messing around.”

“Save me the story and get to the point.”

The marine’s shoulder;s slumped, “The commander dislocated his shoulder.”

The room muttered in some confusion.

Krill sighed, “Of course he did because who else would it be.” He turned back to look at the other assembled medical professionals, “Well come now, class. It seems that today has favored us with a perfect teaching opportunity.”

Hesitantly the rest of the medical professionals followed watching the human prowl along before them with some trepidation.

They found the human sitting outside on the steps of the GA headquarters cradling his arm in one hand as two others attempted to help him support the it, “Shit, shit shit, this hurts.” The man moaned piteously. One of the assistants shifted as he saw the group of doctors coming, but quickly returned to position as the human yelped in pain, “Shit, not like that…... “ Many of the medical professionals had never heard a human distress call before. It was a surprising amalgamation of moaning, hissing and the occasional yip, not to mention the strangely  random words, that later had to be explained as profanities.

Krill took charge immediately moving up around the side of the human and dropping down to examine the injured limb.

“Morning doc.” The human said voice unusually slow.

Krill thumped him lightly over the back of the head, “always, always you. Every single time I am busy your body decides to malfunction.” The human mewed pitifully.

A hand raised, “is hitting them in the head part of the treatment.”

Krill sighed, “Only for this one.” He moved over to the side of the human pulling up the strange fibrous covering to reveal the horrible disfigurement below. The medical professionals gasped and muttered in surprise. The skin about the upper limb was bowed upwards unnaturally the arm held awkwardly out before him. What horrible accident could have caused an injury like that…. Well they couldn’t have said. It would be a horrible issue to have for the rest of his life.

Krill prodded around the skin, “Can you feel this.”

The human nodded. Despite what must have been excruciating pain the human had now become very quiet. Its single, wide green eye, the other one was covered by some sort of strange patch, was glassy and distant. When he was asked a question, his answers were clear and concise but very slow.

“alright , the group of you pick him up and bring him inside, try to keep that arm still.” They watched in surprise as a team of humans coordinated themselves to pick up their fellow, grabbing him about the uninjured arm and legs. Awkwardly they shuffled him inside to where Krill ushered them, slowly placing him onto the demonstrative medical equipment that had turned into an impromptu hospital. The other aliens gathered about.

The human refused to lay back hissing in pain when the arm was jostled into the wrong direction. 

Krill turned to look at his audience. “What I will demonstrate next is a simple procedure.” At his words the crowd looked rather skeptical muttering and chatting to themselves, “The bone has been pulled from the socket and needs to be reset as soon as possible. It will be a simple push inwards to correct the damage. However, The muscles about the injury may tighten making it difficult and painful for the patient while awake, so we will induce unconsciousness and give analgesic medications for the pain.” He ordered a few of his people around as the human cradled his arm staring off into space with a blank expression. He continued to be responsive and answer questions though he was even slower than normal.

With some instruction from the doctor, the other professionals brought forward the correct medication.

Krill huffed when he saw the label on the bottle.

“Something wrong doctor?”

“No,” Sigh, “He’s just a handful coming out of this one…. Is this all we have.” 

“I am afraid so.” 

“Well I suppose we are all in for a treat then.” he responded. Adjusting a clear tube about the human’s face running under the protruding sensory organ. Another was being instructed on the placement of an IV into the vein of the hand seeing as the human would not unfurl himself to allow access to the inner arm.

Once that was done, the drug was administered. The human’s eye closed, and he went limp falling backward, lowered slowly by a few other humans, seemingly unaware of the pain that he must have been in, “Now it is important to keep a human speaking after the initial trauma even if you may have to ask the same questions multiple times. Now intense pain and shock can sometimes have similar symptoms, but as long as the human is responsive everything is alright and you don’t have to worry about shock. I wouldn't consider a dislocation something that will cause shock in most cases.” 

He moved forward, “Now we are going to do what is called a closed reduction, and simply pop the tip of the bone back into place. I will position my hands here and here, and-” Those with especially good ears heard he grinding pop as the bone slid back into place, the convex surface of skin that had been displaced before falling back into its original position.

They grimaced. It looked horrific.

Krill demonstrated the administration of pain medication and gave a time estimate of when the human would likely to wake up.

“Be warned, these medications tend to have a very severe effect on the cognitive function of a human, you can expect to see mood changes, confusion, slurred or slowed speech, inattentiveness, difficulty focusing, and in this one’s case the need for hand restraints.”

The room muttered.

“You will see why.”

***

Krill had not been lying. The human woke slowly foggy  green eye out of focus on glassy. His hands pawed at the blankets below him wandering over the bed until he found the tue to the IV. Krill was forced to pul it away.

“Commander… Commander, how are you feeling.”

The human’s head lolled to the side flopping limply to one side, “Where am I” His speech was slurred just as predicted.’ He grabbed at the Iv tube again, and Krill was forced to pull it away, “No, keep still ok.”

“Okayyyyy.” The human responded groggily.

He seemed pretty happy for someone who should have been in tons of pain.

“How are you feeling?” Krill repeated.

The human didn’t answer head turning this way and that eye wide with curiosity. He looked at his arm, “Oh….. my arm is ok…. That’s gooooood.” 

“Commander, try to focus.”

The human did not focus.

Instead he reached a hand out to prod at the little nodes attached to his chest. He began peeling one away. They were forced to take his hand.

“Commander.”

“Yeeee?” 

“Can you answer my questions?”

The human nodded widely grinning,, but then seemed to completely forget what he had been asked reaching a hand out to touch one of the machines before being intercepted, “Hey, hey, hey.”

“Yes commander.”

“Wait…. I i forgot… I’m not making any sense…. Am I making any sense.” He glanced towards his arm, “oh my arm is back in place…. That’s good.”

“Yes .” Krill said reassuringly

In the next moment a Drev stepped into the room. She was small for her species, but with a striking electric blue carapace. She walked over, “Why do you insist on getting hurt when I’m not here.”

The human didn’t answer staring at her with a wide green eye. She paused by the bed, and he continued his scrutiny reaching out a hand to stroke the armor of her forearm, “Pretty…. Blue is my favorite color. My best friend is blue too.”

“Adam, I’m right here.”

The human looked up, “Oh ... hi, I didn’t see you there. I saw someone who was just the same color as you, “Pretty…..” 

“That was me, Adam.”

“Ohhhhh….. Wait…. That was you.”

“Yes, Adam, that was me.” She didn’t seem perturbed by answering his questions instead taking his hands gently in two of her four and immobilizing them as Krill attempted to slip a sling over one arm.

The human whimpered.

“You’re ok.” the Drev said, “I just need you to hold still.

The human mad a few more distressed noises before becoming distracted by something else, “Sunny, Sunny.”

“Yes Adam.”

“My shoulder is back in…. That’s good.”

The Drev seemed amused, “Yes, that’s very good.”

And then the human started to cry. It was very strange, they had neer seen that before. In fact they didn't think it was physically possible to move so quickly between emotional states. Apparently humans leak from the face when they are upset. A few of the physicians postulated that this may have been an evolved  way to gain social attention from other humans. It seemed to work even on nonhumans and the Drev let him hug her arm.

“What’s wrong, Adam.”

The human shook his head, “I-dont know.” That seemed to upset him even more until something else caught his attention and he was back to being as pleased as he had been originally. The drug was everything and more than Krill had said it would be. The large Drev had to keep the human’s hands immobilized, and even then he still managed to cause trouble. It was  a wonder that humans managed to do anything in their daily lives if the inside of their heads were like this. Their attentional ability normally must have been herculean to focus this dumpster fire.

It was extremely interesting to watch the human slowly recover himself. At some point he finally began to understand that he wasn’t acting normal despite still acting abnormal. After that came the ability to pay attention and converse normally. Even then he was still doing things that only made sense in a roundabout way. 

His voice was no longer slurred, but slow. He seemed almost groggy, but not quite. His previous emotional state had evened out.

“Feel like I got hit by a train.” he groaned. One eye flicked about the audience, “Shit, I didn’t interrupt anything did I?”

Krill let of a deep sigh, “sometimes I wonder if it is your mission in life to interrupt everything I do,” He raised a hand to cut off the human’s apology, “And AS USUAL you somehow still managed to be helpful.”

And that is why the new transuniversal internet currency is not videos of cats, but humans waking up from surgery because, let's be honest, humans on drugs are kind of funny 

[mrs--wheels]

I made a human.

Yes, I made a human.  I gave birth to a baby boy!  Here’s my birth story: On Wednesday July 14th I went for my routine 36 week OB-Gyn checkup.  At that visit they did a sonogram and everything looked normal, baby was in the 46th percentile for size.  The Dr. checked my cervix and I was 2 cm dilated already.  My blood pressure was high, which it had been for 6 weeks, but I did not have preeclampsia (yet - I was borderline.)  The Dr. took me off work and said if I did not deliver by next week Thursday July 22 I would need to be induced.  My blood pressure was causing really bad swelling everywhere in my body, but especially my calves, ankles, feet and wrists.  I weighed 251 lbs at the checkup, about 55 lbs heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight.  So I went into work with my disability form all filled out and basically peaced out, said goodbye to a few of my coworkers and my boss, and I ain’t lookin’ back.  I went home, much to my husband’s surprise (he was working from home that day.)  I’d like to say I enjoyed the last week of my pregnancy but that’s not entirely true.  I was in terrible discomfort, especially my pelvis: I was having bad pelvic pain & pressure, so bad I could barely walk. The night of Monday July 19th I could hardly walk up the stairs to my bed, it hurt so bad.  I did have surprisingly restful night’s sleep that night, which was good because of what was to come... At 5 am on Tuesday July 20th, I rolled over in bed and felt a wetness.  Unsure if I peed myself or if my water broke, I went into the bathroom.  Clear fluid was running down my legs, and it didn’t smell like pee.  The puddle on my sheets didn’t either.  I called the OB-Gyn’s office from the bathroom. and the Dr. on call told me if contractions started on their own to head into the hospital.  If they didn’t start on their own, head in anyway but wait until after 8:30, 9 am.  So I took a shower, made some toast & a banana for breakfast, and unloaded the dishwasher.  Around 6 am I had my first contractions, but they weren’t too strong and they were about 7 or 8 minutes apart.  I woke up my husband and told him I thought my water broke, and I was having contractions.  He leapt out of bed and into the shower.  As I lay on the bed waiting for him, the contractions were coming closer together (4-5 minutes apart) and getting stronger.  My husband got dressed and I called my mom.  She said she’d meet us at the hospital and we grabbed the overnight bags and diaper bag and went straight to the hospital. My husband drove like a panicked maniac, and I was gritting my teeth in the passenger seat with every contraction.  We got to the hospital and I refused to let my husband get me a wheelchair, I wanted to walk in on my own.  I had a contraction in the parking lot and barely made it to the 2nd floor to Labor & Delivery.  By now it was around 7:30 am.  They took me into a triage room for a  workup, I changed into a gown, and a nurse put the fetal heart monitor on me.  I got to listen to that little galloping horse heartbeat, nice and strong.  In came a Dr. and 2 students, they did a history on me and after a very uncomfy pelvic exam it was determined I was 8 cm dilated and fully effaced!  (The student who first checked me said I was 4 cm... the actual Dr determined it was 8... kind of a big difference!)  The contractions were pretty much on top of each other by now, only a minute apart.  I was moved straight into the delivery room, without stopping in a labor room first. This was at around 9:30 am maybe? I got to 10 cm in less than than 2 hours, and ready to push.  I didn’t even have a hospital bracelet or an IV, things were moving way too fast.  The Dr. showed up fully gowned, and they got me on the table and ready to go.  This was the first time my mom was able to see me, she’d been waiting over an hour, since I was expected to be in labor a lot longer! I was ready to push at just before 10 am and I was absolutely terrified, I was so not ready.  I had a birth plan packed in my overnight bag.  In it, I requested an epidural.  I wanted pain meds, to be able to sleep and rest during labor... My husband brought his laptop, we had a bluetooth speaker ready to play music in the delivery room... All of this was shot right out the window.  I was terrified of the prospect of pushing, terrified of the pain.  I felt like I had to take a massive poop, and even screamed “I’m gonna poop!” in the delivery room.  My mom and the Dr were like “Just do it! That’s the baby coming out!”  I pushed maybe a dozen times? Twice for every contraction.  I squeezed my husband’s hand and felt my mom’s hand on my forehead.  I was drenched in sweat from head to toe and shaking like crazy.  They told me not to scream, that I was wasting energy I needed to funnel into pushing -  but, like, ok, it hurts!  I was hurling 4-letter words (and I never swear around my mom,) and gripping onto the back of the pillow under my head (which didn’t help the poor nurse still trying to stick an IV in my arm - they blew a vein in my left hand and ended up putting the IV in my right wrist - normally I’m bad with needles but I was in so much pain I didn’t even care.)  The fetal heart monitor wasn’t working anymore, because the baby was moving down the birth canal.  The excess skin & fluid on my lower abdomen made it difficult to get a reading, so a nurse was literally pushing the monitor hard into my belly, while I was trying to push at the same time.  Eventually they used an internal monitor, this thing that looks like a cattle prod that attached to the top of the baby’s head, under the scalp, through the cervix.  Luckily I didn’t know that had happened until after he was born. After about 15 minutes of pushing, and my poor crying husband looking like he was about to pass out (he hates seeing me in pain.) I gave birth to a baby boy at 10:14 am.  It’s the most bizarre feeling in the world: like I was a bottle of champagne and he was the cork.  I could feel everything since I had no drugs, the baby’s head and shoulders popping out and the gush of fluids afterwards. I did need a few stitches, I had a second degree tear, but I never felt that or the placenta being delivered. The whole room was in a flurry, there was at least 1 dozen people there - the Dr, an instructor, several students, nurses and my mom & husband.  I was the talk of labor & delivery that day: the first-timer who came in at 7:30 and had a baby less than 3 hours later.  The baby was put right on my chest after he was born.  I had my eyes closed pretty much the entire time I had been pushing, but I opened them when I felt that warm, wiggly little baby on me.  He was absolutely beautiful, rosy pink and screaming.  My husband said he was born with his eyes open, arms and legs flailing, and a very healthy set of lungs.  He scored a 9 on his one-minute Apgar and a 9 on the 5-minute too: the highest score you can get!  He weighed 6 lbs, 8 oz and was 20.25 inches long.  My husband cut the cord (squeamishly) and my mom and him just gushed over this perfect little guy.  I was exhausted but exhilarated, I felt triumphant!  I had given birth with no drugs, all natural, and made it out to tell the tale. I had no idea my body was capable of that, but it knew more than I did.... We (me, my mom, and my husband) were able to stay in the delivery room for 2 hours after the baby’s birth.  We finally agreed on a name (well, I proposed the name and wouldn’t take no for an answer - after all, who had just given birth anyways?)  We decided on Owen Paul.  Owen because I love the name and it means “warrior”, and Paul after my brother who passed away 19 years ago.  It somehow fits him perfectly, he looks like an Owen.  He’s got beautiful red-gold hair that swirls on his head, and dark blue eyes that I’m hoping stay that color.  I was able to start nursing him right away (my nursing journey is a story for another time, though...) and we were all able to bond.  It was a wonderful experience, and it is true what they say: you forget all the pain once you lay eyes on the little miracle.  Maybe it’s the huge rush of hormones that causes this amnesia, but it really is true.  I’d do it all over again!

I’ve lost nearly all the weight I gained during pregnancy, since it was pretty much all baby, placenta, amniotic fluid and the fluid that was blowing me up like a balloon.  I’m not in any pain, even with the stitiches. I only took a few Tylenol the first couple of days, I guess I have a pretty high tolerance!  I’m feeling good, all things considered, and healthy.  It’s nice not to have that constant pelvic pain anymore. Owen is going to be 2 weeks old tomorrow, and it’s been a huge adjustment (an obvious understatement.)  The days are long, but the years will be short - everyone tells me that.  It’s frustrating, and miserable and so so so tiring.  But they are only babies for such a short time, I plan on enjoying every minute of him!  He’s the best thing I’ve ever made.

[sweetness47]

Pinky Promise

Pairing Bucky x reader

This is a late present for @sherrybaby14​ 😊 Happy Birthday Sweetie <3 . There are some flashback moments in italics, part of the background story.

Warnings: some underage smut-ish stuff, smut, some fluff, language, child abandonment, child kidnapping, parental rejection dark moments, etc… MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU!!!

Summary: You and Bucky grew up as neighbours, you always watched each other’s backs, always defended the other. Both of you were close with Steve as well. But it was Bucky who was particularly close to you.

Five years old, Kindergarten

A shy YN entered the classroom, clinging to the skirt her mother wore. She didn’t want to stay here, there were too many people. And they all looked super scary.

“Mama, I want to go home!” she pleaded.

“You will be fine sweetie, promise. I’ll come back in a couple of hours to get you, ok? You’ll have lots of fun.”

The teacher, Mrs. Bird, came over. “You must be YN. I’m Mrs. Bird. There’s some dolls over here, I can show them to you if you like.”

The teacher held out her hand, and YN looked at her, then looked more closely at the room. Toys filled all the corners, there were dolls, toy cars, building blocks, coloring books. Slowly, more out of curiosity, she took Mrs. Bird’s hand and together they went over to where other girls were playing with dolls and clothes. YN’s mother took that opportunity to sneak away, thankful for the distraction the teacher had provided.

She knelt down, finding a blonde hair baby to play with. She took some dresses and began trying them on her, then another girl came and snatched the doll away.

“My doll.”

“No! I had it first!” YN yelled back.

“Too bad.” The other girl sneered at YN and pushed her.

“I think that girl had the doll first. Give it back to her.”

Both girls turned to a young boy. “Buzz off kid.” The other girl turned to ignore him.

The boy took the doll, and gave it back to YN. The teacher came over, and pulled the other girl aside to talk about her manners.

YN looked at the boy who had now sat down beside her. “Thank you. I’m YN.”

“My name is James.” The boy said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

She did. “This your first day?” she asked.

James nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.”

He turned to her. “Wanna be best friends?”

“Sure.” She replied.

“Here.” He held out his pinky finger. “Let’s pinky promise. We will always be friends, always help each other, always.”

She connected her pinky with his. “I like that promise.”

Her mind wandered, away from the pain, away from the nightmares. The memory, if that’s what it was, was nice, a good distraction. Where was this? When?

The conditioning resumed. Tears fell from her eyes as her mind took her away again.

16 Years Old, High School

“You gotta be kidding Buck. No way. Uh uh. I am not wearing heels that high. Nope. Not happening.”

“C’mon YN, they will look really good with the gown.” He pleaded.

YN turned to Steve. “Are you gonna let him rag on me like that?”

“Leave it Buck. She doesn’t have to wear the shoes. They are a bit high. You don’t want your prom date to end up on crutches do you?” he said to his friend.

“Fine.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “It was only a suggestion.” He placed a chaste kiss on YN’s forehead. “No one’s going to notice the shoes anyways, they will be too busy staring at the dress.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “True enough.”

“You guys are going to make me blush.” YN chimed in as she did a fancy twirl. The gown she’d picked off the rack was perfect size. The blue satin moved gracefully around her, making her shiver when material brushed against her skin. It was a halter top design, the low V accentuating her breasts. Small beads adorned the waistline, giving the illusion of a belt, and completing the delicate piece of clothing. “This is definitely the one.”

“I have to agree.” Bucky came over to stand beside her. Steve joined as well. “You look stunning.”

She blushed furiously, and went back to the change room. Bucky paid for the dress and made arrangements to get it shipped to her house.

Bucky had been right in suggesting everyone’s eyes would be glued to the dress. YN always dressed plain, not wanting to stand out, yet here she was, the most beautifully dressed tonight. How had she let Bucky talk her into this? Her mind screamed at her to run, seek safety of her home, but her heart was right where she wanted to be, with James “Bucky” Barnes.

Her eyes flitted open, the room was blurry. She watched as people walked around, whispering amongst themselves, all kinds of tubes and needles everywhere. Her body was strapped down, helpless…she didn’t know what or where she was, she wasn’t even sure anymore who she was. The conditioning resumed as one of the fuzzy figures injected something into her IV.

16 years old, Graduation

The party lasted well into the night. James took Steve home, then drove YN back to her place. “I love you Buck.”

The words surprised them both. Yeah, they’d been dating for a while, but neither had actually said the words…till now. Bucky leaned over to kiss her, his lips soft, inviting YN to open hers. He moaned as his tongue found hers, dancing together in the heat. “I love you too, YN.”

The kiss deepened, Bucky reaching to hike up her skirt, while YN worked at undoing his belt and pants. Truthfully, they hadn’t planned to go far, but neither wanted to stop. It felt right. YN lifted her hips as Bucky slid off her underwear, then moved his hands to cup her mound. She was soft, wet with desire for this man. He slipped a finger inside, and she gave a soft cry as her body adjusted to the invasion. Then he moved it, slowly, covering her passionate pleas with bruising kisses.

His hand then left, and he moved her to lay on the seat of the car. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

Always the gentleman, she thought to herself. “Yes.”

Bucky nodded, and in one swift moment, he was in, thrusting past the barrier of her innocence. Tears stung her eyes, but she smiled up at him. His look of concern was heartwarming, so she gave a nod of assurance that indeed she was ok. He moved then, pulling out then pushing back in. YN experienced her first orgasm, the explosion sending unimaginable pleasure through her.

“Bucky! Oh god…”

He moved faster, spurred by her response, and YN found herself wrapping her legs around his waist. He was all muscle and pure sin. And he was hers. He came shortly after, spilling his seed inside her, collapsing on top of her. Both were panting and sweaty, but neither regretted that night.

“Her conditioning is complete. She is ready for testing.”

“Well done Dr. Let’s see what she can do.”

YN looked at the room she now found herself in. She was no longer strapped down, no tubes attached to her arms, and she was fully clothed. The suit was light, breathable, and allowed her to move with ease.

Two soldiers came in, no guns, but stood ready to strike. YN looked almost bored.

Until they moved to attack her.

It was almost too fast to see with the human eye, the way she grabbed the arm of the first soldier, tearing it from his body, then gouging his eyes out. The second soldier wrapped his arms around her, trying to contain and limit her movement, but she took both hands and grabbed his head from behind. She pulled him over her, and punched a hole in his chest, literally, pulling out his heart and smashing it on the ground.

All that took about 20 seconds.

She stayed there, waiting for instructions. The Doctor and the other man came in to the room. The man looked her over. “Hail Hydra!” he saluted her.

“Hail Hydra!” she replied.

Yes. She was ready.

~~

Steve looked at his friend in wide disbelief. “No way. She was too smart to have ever been captured by Hydra.”

Bucky stared right back. “She wasn’t, originally. She was like me. A victim of circumstance. I wouldn’t lie about this Steve. You know me. You know how I felt about her. You honestly think I would make shit like that up?”

“It’s entirely possible that this YN could have fallen victim to the same circumstances as James.” Natasha interjected.

“Maybe, but if that’s the case, who knows what kind of conditioning she’s been through. And would we even be able to get her back?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders at Steve. “You got me back Rogers. Don’t you think she deserves that chance too?”

Cap sighed. “True enough. But it’s going to be tough getting past the defenses. Hydra’s pretty well fortified.”

~~

Black Scorpion. That’s what they called her now.

Her old name and old life a distant memory, fading farther as the days went by. She no longer heard the name YN. No longer did anyone treat her with anything but respect and indifference. They were probably scared of her. She was the best weapon they’d ever made. Even better than the Winter Soldier had been. She was flawless.

They had used an improved version of the Super Soldier Serum. Superior to any used before. Her skin was impenetrable now, she had no need of bullet proof garments. Knives were useless as well. She was the perfect killing machine.

It was based on nanite technology, tiny microscopic robots that had integrated with her DNA, bonding with her blood, giving her instant healing and armour.

She’d been part of Hydra’s experiments for decades. YN was given the original Super Serum to preserve her life, then they worked on perfecting it, and her.

The Black Scorpion lived true to the name, the perfect Hydra operative. She never missed a target, never botched a mission, never failed…period.

She’d encountered the Avengers a few times, but her mask shrouded them from making any kind of headway as to her identity. When not working, she remained inside the base, she had no need for food or sleep, so she trained, meditated, and trained more.

Those Hydra soldiers who weren’t scared of her tried to get her into their beds, but were unsuccessful. She had no need of such activities, and she certainly wasn’t going to engage in them with those losers.

There were times where, if she did close her eyes, she would have flashes of what seemed to be dreams, images of a child and others like her, playing together. Visions of going to school, eating at diners, plagued her.

But there was one that haunted her most of all.

It was a boy, well the first images were a young boy, but they were friends, then more than friends, then…well that’s where it usually ended. She could never see anything beyond that. And while she no longer had emotion or knew anything other than what was current, the images continued to appear, eventually even happening while she was awake. It never affected her missions, and no one was ever aware this was happening. She never told a soul.

Her outside façade never showed anything but the calm, cool, collected Black Scorpion. Her mind struggled between the conditioning and the flashes of this boy. She had to find out who he was, and why she was dreaming of him. But she didn’t have any security clearance for the computers that occupied the rooms. So she had little to help her in her quest, but was determined none-the-less.

~~

“You’re absolutely sure this is where she’d be?”

“I’m sure.”

Nat stood by Bucky. “I believe you. Let’s get your friend.”

Steve sighed. “Ok. But, stealth? Please?” He looked specifically at Bucky first, who rolled his eyes, then at Natasha.

“Duh.” Nat stuck her tongue out at Cap, who shook his head.

Bucky scoured the area, counting the guards and gathering intel, including the easiest way in. He found it: a service tunnel that lead to a secluded grove of pines. The electrical building was there. It was a perfect place to sneak inside and get to YN.

But their stealth was no match for a certain Hydra operative who happened to be watching the fields, desperately trying to find a way into the computer systems, hoping it had some intel on her past. The flashes and images were becoming more frequent, and it terrified her, she who had no emotion, who’s humanity had been stripped away by decades of brainwashing.

She didn’t alert any of the other soldiers. There was no need for anyone else. She had taken on these people before, and could easily do so again. Donning her mask, she made her way quickly to the service tunnel she saw them heading toward. Her plan…take them out…permanently.

She hid in the shadows of the first corner, listening for the anticipated footsteps.

Bucky was the first down, followed by Nat and then Cap. The tunnel was dimly lit, but manageable. There were no guards down there, it was just the opposite, an eerie quiet filled the long hallways. Bucky’s senses were on high alert, as were the other two. They moved cautiously down the passage, listening for anything.

Almost too late, Bucky caught a very faint intake of breath from around the corner, just before Black Scorpion came charging at them. The three Avengers scattered, avoiding the long sword flying in their direction.

“There will be no escape this time. You will all fall to Hydra!”

“Not in this century, bitch.” This from Widow, who took out her own baton to combat with.

Her laugh sent chills down their spines. “Your imaginary feats of escape and heroism are small, and will ultimately lead to your demise.” She scoffed. “Why would only three of you come here? Do you have a need to die so quick?”

“We’re looking for a friend of ours.”

Scorpion turned to the famed Soldier. “We don’t have any of Shield’s agents in our cells, though you are welcome to become prisoners.”

“She isn’t a Shield agent. She is a friend. From our childhood. Her name is YN. YFN YLN.”

Scorpion stopped, staring at Captain America. Then her eyes floated over to the man beside him. Dark hair, scruffy, but the eyes…blue as the sky on a clear day. It couldn’t be. The boy from her visions was Hydra’s traitor?

Bucky caught the confusion in Scorpion’s eyes. “Please. If you know where she is, tell us. I love her. I always have, always will.”

Scorpion couldn’t speak. She had to retreat, clear her head. She turned to flee, but Bucky’s swift motions caught her attempt, grabbing her arm and swinging her around. The force of the movement caused her mask to fly off, leaving two speechless Avengers.

The object of the mission was standing right in front of them.

Nat snuck around while Scorpion was preoccupied and gave her enough sedative to knock out a tyrannosaurus. Her stinger was made with a metal alloy not of this world, able to penetrate anything, even Cap’s shield. The perfect weapon that was Black Scorpion slid slowly to the ground, her eyes never leaving the Winter Soldier’s.

~~

 17 Years Old

Her period never came. It was due two weeks ago. She smiled to herself. Bucky would be thrilled when she told him. They were going to have a baby. She knew she was young, but they would make it work. He already had a good job. They could get a small place somewhere, settle down, get married.

The only other thing she had to do was tell her parents. They were good role models, loving, caring. She couldn’t not say anything. This was going to be their grandchild. They would surely be happy, right?

“Mom? Dad? Can we talk?” she approached them after dinner.

“Sure honey. What’s wrong?” her mother coaxed, motioning for YN to sit on the sofa beside her.

YN bit her lip and looked down at her lap for a moment. “I’m pregnant.”

There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was wait for the shouts of joy, the hugs.

But they never came.

Instead, her father stood from his chair. “What?”

Her mother looked horrified. “You’re pregnant? Who…?” she stopped. “It’s that boy, James something. Isn’t it? What did he do? Did he force you? Is that what happened?”

YN shook her head. “No. Nothing like that! James and I love each other. He’s going to marry me, and we’re going to be a family.”

The hard slap echoed through the room, tears stinging the reddening cheek on YN’s face. “You slut! How could you shame us like that? Your parents! We loved you, cared for you, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful little girl. Go to your room, NOW!”

YN ran up the stairs to her room, slamming the door and flinging herself onto her bed. Never, in her 17 years, had her mom and dad ever hit her. That hurt almost as much as the actual slap. Possibly more. Why wouldn’t they be happy? It wasn’t like James was going to abandon her. They had to know that, right?

She cried herself to sleep. When she finally woke, she was greeted with a splitting headache, and the realization that she wasn’t at her home. In fact, she was pretty sure she wasn’t in the same city. Where was she? How did she get here?

She wandered around, the dark alley producing frightening shadows, hints of danger lurked everywhere. She walked to and fro, up and down the streets of the foreign town, hoping this was just some bad nightmare. But no luck. After hours of aimless searching, the pregnant teen sat on a nearby park bench, shivering, crying uncontrollably, praying for a miracle.

~~

Her eyes flew open, immediately tensing as she glanced around the white room. She was in some kind of hospital room, or infirmary. Same thing. But what, why…Her mind reeled over what she could remember, which wasn’t much at first. Scared and confused, she hopped off the bed, only to be met with one kickback of a dizzy spell. She collapsed, shaking, as her weak limbs struggled to get up off the cold cement. The nanites that were inside her had gone dormant, sleeping while she slept. They would get her back up in a few minutes, but that wasn’t the biggest concern.

Numerous flashes of different scenarios crossed her mind: murder, fighting, killing people…then children playing, laughing…

The boy with the blue eyes.

She was unaware that someone had entered the room. Strong arms lifted her off the floor, gently placing her back into the comfort of the bed. Those same blue eyes met hers, concern etched across his beautiful face.

“You ok?” his voice was just as sinful as the rest of him. She nodded. “What do you remember?”

She shook her head. “I…I’m not really sure. There’s so many chopped up images in my head right now, it might as well be an entire theatre of movies times 50.”

He chuckled. “Do you remember your name?”

“Bla…” she paused, “No, it…it’s YN.” Her eyes widened. “Buck?”

Bucky let out a huge sigh of relief. “Yeah doll, it’s me.”

YN began to frown, which was quickly replaced with tears of remorse. “Oh god…Buck, I’m so sorry. I…”

He gathered her into his strong embrace. “Shhh, don’t apologize. It wasn’t you YN. It was Hydra.”

She held up her hand. “No, Bucky, please let me finish.” He stopped, facing her. “I never wanted to leave you. I wasn’t given a choice.”

He leaned back. “What are you talking about? You wrote me a letter saying you were going to college. You wanted to remain just friends. I stopped hearing from you, eventually, and I joined the army.”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t go away to college Buck. My parents sent me away.”

His features darkened. “Why?”

“Because I was pregnant. We were going to have a baby.”

His jaw dropped. His voice barely a whisper, “What?”

“They were so mad, telling me I had shamed them. I went to my room and cried myself to sleep. When I woke, I was in a strange town, no other clothes than what I wore, no money, no note, no goodbye. Nothing. They abandoned me.”

The metal hand curled into a fist. “Those bastards. Why didn’t you contact me?”

“I couldn’t. I had no way to do anything like that. I was almost starved to death when this couple came by and saw me alone on the park bench. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything for 2 days at that point. They offered me a place to stay, and I accepted. That was my first encounter with Hydra.”

“It was too good an offer to pass up at the time. I was scared, pregnant and alone…and I was hungry. I didn’t know much about them beyond what they told me. I told them about the baby, and they appeared even more concerned. So they took me in and gave me a new home. They helped me go shopping for clothes for the child, a cradle, everything I would need. They seemed to live a simple life, no phones or anything. They bought whatever I needed or wanted, so I never had any need for an allowance or a job.”

“When the baby started to come, the couple rushed me to a special ‘hospital’ where I could have ‘the best care’ possible. We had a son Buck. But then everything went downhill. I wasn’t even given a chance to hold him. He was taken from the room and I never saw him again. That’s when they started experimenting on me. They gave me the Super Soldier serum to keep me from aging while they worked to perfect it. They did outside trials too, hence Captain America and you, but it was my body they used as their test subject. While I was under, they had subliminal messages playing, conditioning to make me forget who I was. This went on for decades.”

Bucky listened in horror, his stomach threatening to heave his recent meal. He couldn’t believe those assholes had done this to her. To his YN. “God, YN. I never knew.”

“I know. I don’t blame you. I would have contacted you if I knew how, or had the tools to do so.” She bit her lip. “But our son is out there now. They are probably raising him, training him right from birth that Hydra is his life. We have to find him.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “We will. Promise. But right now, you need to rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

She smiled. “Pinky promise?”

“Always.”

[dissolutionandcreation]

I.. Ive been talking to someone with DiD about my experiences and stuff, we had long conversations and stuff and he came to the conclusion that I most likely have DiD. I agree (I of course wont share my experiences) but then I see other people and they're like 'You HAVE to have missing gaps of your age, gender, etc.' But thats never really happened to me (Not including time gaps) and I feel invalidated in a way? I feel fake.

Hey anon! I’m sorry you’ve come across so many ultimatum posts, like things that claim false ideas about DID/OSDD systems. I’ll debunk a few at the end of this post. 

The only diagnostic criteria for DID is:

Two or more distinct identities or personality states are present, each with its own relatively enduring pattern of perceiving, relating to, and thinking about the environment and self.

Amnesia must occur, defined as gaps in the recall of everyday events, important personal information, and/or traumatic events.

The person must be distressed by the disorder or have trouble functioning in one or more major life areas because of the disorder.

OSDD-1b can have these, without the amnesia by the way. So, it possible to be a system without amnesia, but DID requires amnesia to be diagnosed. 

Also, I’m not sure about your friend’s qualifications, but do be careful having other people diagnose you who aren’t properly trained! Self-diagnosis can be valid (especially when there is no access to professional diagnosis), but untrained individuals diagnosing others can be dangerous. Especially with DID, it can lead to system upset, alters going dormant, or programming triggers. Just be careful!

So, given these diagnostic criteria, there really are hundreds of ways DID can manifest. Hopefully this list is validating!

You can be a DID/OSDD-1b system if:

All your alters are around the same age

There is no “host” for your system

You all see yourselves as a part of one whole (while meeting the personality state definition above)

You all see yourselves as individual people

Your entire system is fictives (children naturally are drawn to fiction to cope, so this is possible, although rare!)

You have no fictives in your system

All your alters are children or a totally different age from the body

All alters are a different gender identity from the body’s sex

All alters are the same gender identity to each other or the body’s sex

All alters identify as non-human (especially common in RA survivors)

Alters are often dormant and only appear every once in a while

You didn’t realize you had a system for years

You don’t remember the trauma or attachment disruption that lead to becoming a system

Certain alters have the ability to control the memories, feelings, and even bodily effects of other alters (especially common with abuser introjects, persecutors, and in cult/RA survivors)

You all get along well and don’t struggle with internal fighting

You struggle to get along well with your alters

Feel free to add onto this, too!

P.S. If you have more abuse survivor/mental health questions, I’d actually love to answer them at my blog @uncoveryourjoy! It’s a bit more focused on that topic. :) 

[havenoffandoms]

Running With The Wolves - Part IV

Part I; Part II; Part III

Jaskier could not remember a time in his life when his muscles had ached that much.

Lambert and Eskel were riding on either side of Jaskier, while Ciri and the silver wolf known as Geralt lead the way, keeping a fair distance ahead of the riders and their closely guarded prisoner. A pity, for Ciri seemed the friendliest of the lot and unlike Eskel and Lambert, she did not treat him like a criminal. Jaskier managed to distract himself from the muscular cramps in his legs and lower back by examining his captors’ features more closely in the dim light of the torches. Eskel and Lambert looked similar which had Jaskier wondering whether they were related. Where Eskel wore his dark brown hair at shoulder length and gathered at the nape of his neck in a low ponytail, Lambert kept his short and well-trimmed. Both sported impressive scars on the right sides of their faces. Eskel’s face was marred with several sinuous scars running parallel to each other from his right brow all the way down his chin, while Lambert bore a single scar beginning just under his hairline and disappearing in his full beard somewhere halfway up his cheek. However, it was the identical pair of amber-coloured eyes that captivated Jaskier’s attention the most. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps all witchers were related by blood, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Ciri looked nothing like them, and Jaskier was still not sure what the silver wolf looked like in his human form either.

“How long until we finally reach your home?” Jaskier asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible considering the aggravating circumstances. Neither Eskel nor Lambert answered him, which on top of being infuriating felt incredibly rude considering Jaskier had done nothing to deserve being treated with such disrespect. If anything, he had acted like the perfect gentleman from the start. There was truly no need for the witchers’ sour attitude.

“Could I at least ride on one of your horses? I am tired from all this travelling I did before you found me, and I’m afraid all this walking and exploring has left me really light-headed. I could collapse at any time now.”

“Shut up,” Lambert snapped at him, “before I give you a reason to complain.”

“Lambert, ease off,” Eskel admonished without taking his eyes off the path ahead. Jaskier felt like sticking his tongue out at Lambert, but he did not want to risk attracting the ill-tempered witcher’s wrath. Eskel was a lot more level-headed than Lambert, which filled Jaskier with hope for his fate. Perhaps Eskel would be able to convince this Vesemir character to let Jaskier leave with his life intact. Jaskier let the possibility comfort him as he soldiered on despite the sudden dizziness that took a hold of him.

“Could I maybe trouble you for some water?” he requested weakly. Lambert was about to cut in with a snarky comment when Eskel pulled a water pouch out of his satchel attached to the horse’s saddle, which he wordlessly handed to Jaskier. The bard gratefully accepted the offering and drank greedily, ignoring Lambert glaring at him from his raised position. Jaskier felt slightly guilty for emptying the pouch of its contents.

“Thank you,” he said as he handed the empty pouch back to Eskel, who never verbally acknowledged Jaskier’s gratitude but his eyes held that spark of recognition. This was going to be a long trip back to Kaer Morhen if every member of this small group was unwilling to converse. To say that Jaskier was out of his element was an understatement. He entertained crowds with his singing and his storytelling for a living. He was a bard, a free spirit, a poet, a composer… being urged to keep his mouth shut for longer than ten minutes was harder than Jaskier could have ever imagined. Thankfully, the silence was broken by Ciri’s voice calling Eskel and Lambert’s names urgently as she ran towards them. Jaskier noticed both witchers tense as they brought their mounts to an abrupt halt.

“What is it, Ciri?”

“Geralt, he just took off. I think he’s shifting back into his human form,” Ciri informed them. Although she tried to hide how alarmed she felt, Jaskier could discern the slight tremor in her voice.

“He’ll be alright, little one. Don’t worry,” Lambert reassured her in a soft tone that Jaskier did not know the witcher was capable of. Clearly Ciri was deserving of his affections.

“We need to wait for him,” said Ciri in a tone that left no room for any arguments, “He would not have left our sides if any of us had been in the same situation.”

Jaskier found himself smiling at the girl’s fierce sense of loyalty. He wondered if Ciri was related to Geralt in some way, perhaps a daughter or niece? Even a sister, potentially? Jaskier had so many unanswered questions that he dared not voice out loud. Although Eskel seemed more civilised, Jaskier was not ready to face Lambert’s snarky attitude. Jaskier was tired, hungry and sore. A cranky Jaskier was an unpleasant Jaskier, which would not serve him at all if he were to make a good impression on the witchers and this Vesemir he yet had to meet. He would do anything to convince them to spare his life; a bad attitude would not go down well during negotiations.  

“Ciri, we have to make haste before the first snow,” Eskel reasoned with her, “Geralt can take care of himself, trust me on this.”

“Please, Eskel, we can’t leave him here. We need to stick together, that’s what Vesemir always tells us!”

Jaskier observed Lambert’s and Eskel’s reactions closely. Both averted Ciri’s eyes while the young girl stared at them sternly, her arms crossed before her chest. All that was missing from the picture was Ciri tapping her foot impatiently on the ground to complete the impression of a scolding mother. Her words had clearly made an impression on both witchers. Their reaction reinforced Jaskier’s theory that Vesemir was presumably the patriarchal figure of the group.

“Alright. We’ll wait for Geralt to come back. Shouldn’t take him long,” Eskel decreed as he dismounted his horse and relieved the beast of its bridles and metal mouthpiece. Lambert swiftly followed with a resigned sigh. Meanwhile Ciri could not looked more pleased with herself if she tried. She flashed Jaskier a friendly smile as she made her way to him. Surprisingly, neither Lambert nor Eskel objected.

“Sometimes you need to be firm with those two,” Ciri told him, clearly not worried about keeping her voice down, “but they have their hearts in the right place.” Jaskier heard Eskel and Lambert mumble under their breaths, but they did not correct Ciri. Jaskier directed a tense smile at the young woman. She saw right through him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I… I’m just tired from all my adventures. I had enough excitement for a lifetime,” Jaskier joked, suddenly feeling nauseous. Out of nowhere, his throat felt dry and scratchy, his hands were moist. His heartrate picked up dramatically, making Jaskier feel lightheaded all over again. Jaskier’s legs suddenly gave out, causing the bard to tumble to the ground. He could vaguely make out Ciri’s voice calling out his name, but she sounded distant and hazy. The world started spinning around Jaskier. Something – or perhaps someone – grabbed his shoulder and shook him resolutely, which only worsened Jaskier’s nausea. He tried to find the strength to tell his captors that he was fine, that he just needed to lay down for a while, but his voice died in his throat as Jaskier’s body suddenly contorted in agony. The feeling came as unexpectedly as the nausea and dizziness, a shooting pain which started in his lower back and travelled through his nervous system like lightening. Jaskier’s blood felt like it was boiling in his veins and he feared that he would never again get enough air in his lungs. Panic merely added to his breathlessness as the intense pain pulled an ear-piercing howl from Jaskier. He had never felt such intense agony in his life. In his delirium, Jaskier brought a hand up to his chest and felt the heat emanating from the area through his thin shirt damp with his own sweat. It was like someone was marking him with a branding iron. The new sensation only heightened his panic.

Several more piercing screams filled the air as Jaskier thrashed against whoever was restraining him. Suddenly, Jaskier’s movement stilled as the pain subsided as quickly as it appeared. He lay motionless on the ground for a while, listening to Ciri’s voice gently coax him back to reality. He was leaning against someone else – either Lambert or Eskel, not that it mattered who it was. Jaskier was grateful for the support. The world was still spinning around him. Jaskier felt weaker than he did before, the aftermath of the experience leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“What’s that on his chest?” Ciri asked after a prolonged silence.

“I… I don’t know,” Eskel admitted. Jaskier could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “It looks like…”

“What happened to him?” a third unfamiliar voice spoke unexpectantly, causing Jaskier to flinch in surprise at the sudden interruption. Jaskier forced his vision to focus on the newcomer, but his head hurt from straining his eyes so soon after his episode. A pained groan pushed past his lips as he pinched his eyes close in a desperate attempt to keep the migraine at bay. Jaskier tried to rise to a seated position, but his efforts were stalled by a large hand on his chest pressing him down.

“He suddenly collapsed and started screaming in pain. And there’s also this… mark on his chest. Not sure if it was there before.”

A mark? Jaskier could not recall ever having any marks anywhere on his body apart from the odd freckle or mole here and there. His hand instinctively reached up to rest on his chest. The area was not scalding hot any longer, but it did feel tender to the touch. Jaskier was not sure what could have occasioned such a sensation. A deafening silence filled the forest around them, disturbed only by the distant snorting of the horses. Eventually Jaskier managed to adjust his eyes to the dim light of the torches without feeling excruciating pain. He did not recognise the man crouching next to him, although he guessed from the colloquial tone that he belonged to the group of witchers. The familiar yellow eyes also indicated a potential affiliation.

“Who are you?” Jaskier asked, mustering courage he did not know he possessed to address the newcomer who, for all he knew, shared Lambert’s opinion and wanted any human trespassing to die a horrible death. Unsurprisingly, the stranger did not dignify Jaskier with an answer.

“He’s too weak to walk. He’ll have to ride on one of the horses,” the stranger said, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating deep in Jaskier’s stomach. The ‘mark’ on his chest suddenly came alive again as a pleasant warmth spread through his chest and all the way to his fingertips.  

“Jaskier, are you alright?” Ciri asked, her voice soft and kind. Jaskier was too dumbstruck to respond as his mind was too busy trying to make sense of what had just happened to him to string anything close to a coherent sentence.

“He’s in shock,” commented Eskel.

“He was fine when I left. When did it start?” the stranger enquired, causing Jaskier to pause. Could this be…?

“Shortly after you left, actually,” Lambert provided in a pensive tone, “one minute he was fine, and the next he was on the floor howling so loudly I was worried he would attract predators to our camp. Ciri insisted we wait for you.”

“That was not necessary. I can handle myself.”

“Try telling her that,” Eskel retorted, although Jaskier could hear the softness in his tone, “She used Vesemir’s words against us, Geralt. What were we supposed to do? The pup can play us like fiddles.”

So this was the mysterious Geralt in human form. Far from what Jaskier had initially envisioned. Broad-shouldered, grey-white hair reaching past his shoulders and loosely tied together at the back of the head, a shadow of a beard adorning the chiselled jawline and an angry red scar on the left side of his face. Facial scars seemed to be a witcher’s hallmark, Jaskier mused as he admired the man crouching over him. Geralt was heavily clad in thick leather armour which made him appear even larger and more intimidating. Were it not for the deep frown and palpable tension in the air, Jaskier was inclined to see Geralt as a handsome man. Had the circumstances of their meeting been any different, say if their paths had crossed in a tavern for instance, Jaskier would have definitely tried to sweet-talk his way into Geralt’s bed.

“You’re the wolf who pinned me down,” Jaskier mumbled almost as an afterthought. His brain still had not fully caught up with the situation. “You scared the living daylights out of me, you know?” Geralt ignored Jaskier’s comment in favour of placing a large hand on the bard’s forehead to check his body temperature.

“He’s feverish. Elevated heartbeat.”

“Maybe what triggered the aches in the first place,” Lambert suggested, but Geralt quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of the head.

“I could hear his screams from miles away. That kind of pain is not triggered by fever,” said Geralt. The witcher retracted his hand and rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Jaskier. The bard suddenly felt self-conscious under the scrutiny and averted the intense yellow eyes carefully studying him.

“Maybe Vesemir will know,” Eskel offered.

“Maybe, but that’s not the reason we’re taking him to Kaer Morhen.”

Geralt’s tone indicated that the discussion was over. Jaskier felt a sharp pain in his chest comparable to having his chest hair plucked (which, of course, Jaskier had done many times before – some lovers appreciated smooth skin more than others) as Geralt moved away from him. He thought nothing of it as Eskel helped him rise to his feet and motioned for Jaskier to follow him to his chestnut mare.

“Easy there, Eimyr,” Eskel coaxed the horse gently as he adjusted her bridles and mouthpiece. Jaskier was unable to stifle his giggle in time, which earned him a questioning look from Eskel.

“Sorry, I… did you know that ‘Eimyr’ means hedgehog in Elder Speech?” Jaskier questioned Eskel as another involuntary giggle left him. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not mocking you, I just think it’s – well, sweet for a lack of better word,” he admitted, hoping that Eskel had not taken offence to his reaction. To Jaskier’s surprise, a small smile appeared on the witcher’s lips.

“The first thing I saw after buying her was a dead hedgehog on the side of the road. That’s where the name came from,” Eskel explained as he helped Jaskier into the saddle.

“Oh, well that’s… charming.”

“I like to think it’s original,” Eskel hopped into the saddle behind Jaskier and grabbed the reins tightly in his hand. Eimyr sighed at the added weight, but otherwise did not complain as her rider spurted her on by gently nudging her flanks with the heel of his boots. Jaskier’s back was pressed against Eskel’s firm chest, and although the close proximity to the witcher would have made anyone uncomfortable, Jaskier felt oddly safe. The bard’s gaze wandered to Geralt once more, but the grey haired witcher had his back turned on him as he listened to Ciri’s account of the events.  

“That’s one way to put it,” said Lambert as he tightened the strap of his horse’s saddle, “Eskel, the poet. You called your previous horse evall because you couldn’t think of a better name other than ‘horse’.”

“At least I don’t call all my horses Roach… is that right, Geralt?”

“Less talking, we need to reach the keep fast. The air is heavy with snow. I want to reach Kaer Morhen before the human freezes to death,” was all Geralt said in response to Lambert’s taunt.

“My name is Jaskier!” said human corrected through clenched teeth. Geralt’s eyes met Jaskier’s but this time, the bard held the witcher’s stare and refused to look away. When crouched over him, Geralt appeared far more imposing than he did now. Jaskier allowed his raised position and Eskel’s proximity to embolden him into defying Geralt’s stern glare. The bard had plenty of practice at appearing more confident than he truly felt. His father had taught him from a young age that fear was man’s greatest weakness. Admittedly, Jaskier was at a disadvantage and in no position to fight the witchers even if he knew how to, but that was certainly no reason to treat him like a criminal when Jaskier had done nothing to deserve such a treatment. If anything, they should all be grateful that Jaskier happened upon Ciri and Geralt when he did or they would presently be mourning the death of one of their own.

“My apologies. I want to reach Kaer Morhen before Jaskier freezes to death,” Geralt eventually rectified.

The way his name rolled off Geralt’s tongue made Jaskier feel unexpectedly weak in the knees.

OoO

“Are you good at what you do, bard?” Eskel asked him out of the blue.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Any good songs you can sing until we reach the keep?” Eskel reformulated his question patiently.

“Oh yes, please sing us a song, master Jaskier,” Ciri begged before Jaskier could respond to Eskel’s enquiry. The young girl looked so enthusiastic, her cerulean blues eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement as she flashed Jaskier a wide smile. How could he say no to that face?

“I haven’t composed anything new for a while, but I suppose you lot will not have heard any of my previous work. I’m afraid it won’t sound the same without a lute,” Jaskier lamented, wondering if someone had already sold his precious instrument for a hefty sum. He would probably never see his lute again. It had been the last gift his mother had given him before she passed away from the plague, just after Jaskier had left the family home for Oxenfurt. He felt a pang in his chest as thoughts of his late mother flooded his mind.

“We’re not a fussy audience,” Ciri reassured him.

“If you must sing, at least spare us the love ballads,” Lambert piped up, earning himself a reprimanding look from Ciri.

“Why? Maybe I wanted to hear a love ballad!”

“Love ballads are nothing but frivolous fairy tales. There’s no such thing as true love or soulmates. What’s the point singing about things that don’t exist?”

Jaskier could not tell if this was Lambert winding Ciri up, or if the witcher genuinely felt that way. The bard hoped it was not the latter. Love was the only magic he had ever believed in until very recently. Love was a powerful and versatile thing. The romantic love between two people, a mother’s love for her children, a child’s love for their family pet, brotherly love, platonic love… all these variants were all valid and heart-moving in their own ways. Jaskier had always looked for the beauty in love, but he was well-aware that love could be painful, cruel and ugly. His parents had been trapped in a loveless marriage, and it was only his mother’s love for him that convinced her to stay, in spite of her husband’s hits and the insults he spat at her every day. Jaskier had of course been at the receiving end of a broken heart on several occasions, but he had never lost hope that one day he would find the right person. He was not sure whether he believed in soulmates or not, but the notion was romantic and Jaskier loved to incorporate this trope in his ballads.

However, Jaskier had also learned to always adapt to the crowd’s desires.

“Well, I want to listen to a love ballad,” Ciri argued back in a petulant tone.

“I’d rather throw myself off this cliff,” Lambert countered in similar fashion.

“Shut up, the both of you,” Geralt snapped, silencing both Ciri and Lambert. Jaskier watched the scene with amusement. He guessed, judging by their personalities, that Geralt and Eskel were the older members of the group. “We’re almost there, so you two spare me the bickering.”

“Surely you can come up with a new song for us now, bard,” Eskel swiftly changed the subject in an attempt to ease the tension.

“You mean right this instant?”

“It is your profession. I assume as a travelling bard you are no stranger to improvisation.”

Jaskier wished he were as talented at improvising as Eskel made him out to be. The truth was that Jaskier felt lost without his lute, paper and quill. He would spend most of his time on the road coming up with rhymes, jotting them down and plucking at the strings of his lute. Singing without being accompanied by the sound of his beloved instrument did not only feel wrong, but it was also completely out of Jaskier’s comfort zone. Unknown terrains, but nothing Jaskier could not overcome. All he needed was a suitable muse. He found that writing verses for someone had always come easiest to him. His eyes met Ciri’s expectant gaze as she cast a look over her shoulder. Sweet friendly Ciri who stuck out like a sore thumb among these hardened witchers.

“Alright then, here goes… you think you’re safe, without a care, but here in these lands you’d be wise to beware. The pike with the spike that lurks in your drawers, or the flying drake that will fill you with horror. Need old Nan the Hag to stir up a potion so that your lady may get an abortion.”

“For the love of… we have innocent ears here!” Lambert cried out loud, earning himself a glare from Ciri.

“Is that truly the best you can do?” Eskel enquired, his tone barely concealing his disappointment. Jaskier did his best not to flinch.

“I have lacked inspiration recently,” Jaskier defended himself, forcing a smile on his lips, “but no doubt when you let me go I will sing of the chivalry of witchers who spare the lives of innocent humans who dare wander too closely to their keep. I could perhaps be your barker, maybe even improve your image. People won’t see you as heartless brutes, but as virtuous knights when I’m done telling your heroic tale!”

“Spare us, bard,” Lambert groaned, “you would probably do more bad than good with your poor skills.”

“What about you, Geralt?” Jaskier found himself asking, “what have you got to say about my singing? Come on, what’s your review, three words or less.”

Geralt did not reply straight away, and Jaskier considered it a win that the witcher had yet to tell him to fuck off.

“They don’t exist,” Geralt finally provided after long minutes of silence. Jaskier frowned in confusion.

“What don’t exist?”

“The creatures in your song.”

Well, that was unexpected to say the least. Jaskier had anticipated everything from insults to dismissal, but this comment had not featured on the list of possible responses the bard had expected Geralt to provide. It only perplexed Jaskier further.

“Alright, other than the content, how was my singing?” Jaskier prodded further.

“It’s like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling.”

Jaskier scoffed indignantly at those words, momentarily at loss for what to say. He had never ever been so plainly insulted by anyone. Somehow, the fact that Geralt had been the one to utter these words made the pill ever so hard to swallow. Jaskier had expected that kind of remark from Lambert. The bard could not explain why it bothered him so much that Geralt seemed to abhor his singing with such passion.

“You need a nap.”

Perhaps Jaskier was still hallucinating, but he thought he heard Geralt chuckle under his breath. Dick. Jaskier was silent for the remaining of the journey. He found himself dosing off until Eskel’s mare broke into a sudden gallop as they finally came closer to their destination. Kaer Morhen, the witchers’ keep. Jaskier never thought he would ever live to see the day where he of all people got to lay eyes on the fabled fortress. He merely wished the circumstances for his visit were different. Jaskier dared a look over his shoulder, noticing the pink and purple hues that tinted the sky.

The sun was rising over Kaer Morhen, bringing with it a new day and new hopes. Jaskier’s heart dropped in his chest. He truly hoped this would not be the last sunrise he ever saw.

TBC.

Taglist: @wintekit-1221​ @littleredhotsridinghood​. If you wish to be added to the taglist, leave a PM, comment or drop me an ask and I’ll add you. 

[vivxwrites]

Guardian Angel || Part I

*not my gif*

Word Count: 1196

Summary: I kinda want it to be a surprise...

Warnings: Brief Mention of Death, Some talk about love, Mentions of Heaven

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader 

A/N: Hi everyone!! I’m super duper excited to share the first part of my first series today!! The idea was given to me by my lovely teammate @aesthetiff because I’m incapable of coming up with things myself and I sincerely hope you are just as excited for this as I am! Ok, enjoy :)

Parts: {I}, {II}, {III}, {IV}

You thought it funny that humans described one of the stages of love as “falling.” Out of all of their silly phrases that one has always stood out to you as the most confusing. The humans liked to use “falling in love” to explain the attachment of feelings to another human but you didn’t see how falling had anything to do with it. 

Love was something that had always fascinated you, it was an emotion that Guardian Angels like yourself didn’t feel. For millennia you watched on as your assignments declared their love for human after human, sometimes ending well and other times not. Love encompassed each and everyone of your assignments and over time you found yourself studying it in its many forms. From mothers to brothers to girlfriends to grandkids, love was always abundant and plentiful. 

When one of your assignments would pass, obviously at the time they were supposed to (you were nothing if not meticulous), you would spend your time surveying the next assignment’s circle of love to find out more about their life. Your job didn’t demand you know about the lives of your assignments, in fact most of the friends you had made during work refused to get to know theirs, but you had gotten into the habit of doing so. 

On one particular year you watched with tears in your eyes as one of your assignment’s wives laid them to rest. They had lived a long happy life but it wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. Your assignment was bullied at both school and home for who they identified as and while it broke your heart, it was all part of the process. It was against the rules for you to intervene in an assignment’s life unless an action was required of you to ensure that your assignment remained on the path that was selected for them. In the end, they ended up attending many protest events and became a public figure who did their damnedest to prevent children like them from going through the same harsh childhood. You got to experience their love and passion for their cause and eventually, their wife. You mourned right alongside the world when they died, until you had to move on again. Another clean slate.

You had just arrived back at your office from their funeral, where you were kept hidden with a cloaking spell, when your boss Stan strolled in and slapped a file on your desk.

“Danvers, Carol. Currently she is in her mom’s womb but she is destined to be a hero, a legend. You’ve been assigned to ensure that she follows along that course and to simultaneously protect her from the dark realm. Your success is of the essence. Good luck, (Y/L/N).”

As always, you were ecstatic to meet Carol. You wondered what she would be like and who she would grow to love. Time passed and Carol grew to be a strong young woman, just like the origin of her name stated. At ten years old you had only had to intervene a grand total of two times. At fifteen the amount raised to four and then at eighteen, the number four stuck. She enlisted into the Air Force and you could tell that she would fly (haha) through the ranks with ease. Everything was going just as planned for Carol but you couldn’t help but be concerned over her love life. Yeah, maybe that wasn’t what you were supposed to be focusing on, but at the age of eighteen, an adult, most of your other assignments had at least one person that they loved. At twenty she had gained two loves, but you recognized them as strictly platonic from her side of things. You watched as she was abducted by an alien force called the Kree and as she absorbed the powers of the Tesseract, which you knew to also be the space stone. You were powerless to do anything, as these events were all meant to happen, but you frowned deeply as she aged, still sans love. Carol deserved love! All of your other assignments got someone to love so why shouldn’t she? 

You quickly developed an obsession over Carol’s love life. So maybe it wasn’t healthy, sue you; finding love was just as important as fulfilling one’s destiny. You started taking more risks with your job, intervening and sending Carol people who you thought were worthy of her love. She rejected each and every one of them and you grew frustrated. She was such a strong woman and she would only grow stronger, she deserved to have someone who loved and cared for her by her side.

One day you got lucky, Carol was paying attention to one of the women that you had sent her way for the first time ever. You cheered and sent the woman some of your thoughts that you had for dates. Carol responded well to each date she was taken on and so you took it upon yourself to take over the woman’s actions completely. You set up each date for Carol and the woman, who was essentially just a mask for you at this point, and you talked to Carol for the first time. Once you started talking to her you couldn’t stop and so you didn’t. You lived your life as the woman and things were going smoothly until one fateful day: You and Carol were on a date in the park when a raider of the dark force struck her out in the open. Before she could be injured you stepped protectively in front of her and took the hit for her, which was what you normally did- but normally you were cloaked and not visible and not using a woman’s body to hide and shit. You screwed up majorly as you watched the woman’s body perish from the hit and Carol fell to her knees, sobbing. 

You rushed back to heaven and hid in your office, nibbling on your fingernails. You were busy cursing in your head when Stan stomped into the room, radiating anger. “Stan! I can explain! I didn’t mean for that to happen, I just got so caught up in things an-“

Stan held up a hand to silence you. He shook his head in both disappointment and dismay. He didn’t want to have to punish you but it was the only way. You were in way too deep with Carol and being in love with an assignment was strictly against the rules. Guardian Angels simply could not experience love. With a swift kick to your behind you tumbled off the edge of the cliff and were sent airborne. 

Which brings you to now, present day: you were in love with Carol and simultaneously, you were falling for her.

Falling falling falling, first through the white skies of heaven, then through the golden gate of the realms, and finally through Earth’s bright blue skies. The lush-green ground was getting closer at an alarmingly fast rate and the last thing you heard before impact was the whistling wind that swept you towards the pristine white building in the distance.

A/N: Please please please let me know what you think of it! I really hope everyone likes it because I’m going to make it a series. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and have a good day. Sometimes we don’t have the energy to do things and I want you to know that that is ok, and that I would never judge you for anything. Thanks, Viv :)

[NEXT]

[littlemisskookie]

Loveless: Chapter 3

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Future Smut, Comedy, Torture, Lots of Manipulation, I promise the next chapter will be farrrr more light-hearted, Angst, general guilt it’s pretty intense Word Count: 5,003

You opened your eyes, adjusting ever so slowly to the blinding white of the walls and lights. You blink, slowly processing the machinery around you, busybodies in scrubs or suits. Beside you sat Jungkook, dark circles beneath his eyes, seeming more corpse than human. As soon as he sees your waking form, he sits up abruptly, as though the 5-hour energy drink was finally beginning to kick in.

You felt sore, as though every muscle, even those you didn't even know you had, was aching. You groan, sitting up slowly, noting the fact you were in a hospital bed, an IV attached to your arm. Ah, were you sick? Injured? You felt a bit tired and drained along with the sore ache of your body. You also felt very hungry. But for what you weren't sure.

"What's up, Agent Z? Mind filling me-"

Your sentence is cut off abruptly as you he tangles his long fingers in your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you forward to bring your lips against his. Your eyes widen at that, taken off guard by what was happening.

Since when did Jungkook like you?

He presses his lips firmly against yours, as though trying to make sure you were real. His eyes are screwed shut, almost as if he were trying to embed this moment into his memory. If you weren't trying to figure out exactly what was going on, you would've seen it as more endearing.

He lets go, breath heavy as he shakes, almost collapsing into your arms. He wraps himself around you like ivy, using you for support despite how much bigger and stronger he was in comparison. It takes you a moment to comprehend the fact that he's shaking.

"Jungkook?" You decide to use his real name now, too perplexed to think first about his code name. What was going on? You had never seen the younger boy so shaken, so broken. It was just everything an agent was supposed to keep hidden.

"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were dead, and you were all hurt because of me, and I'm so so so sorry," he sobs. You feel some of his tears on your skin, but you console him nevertheless, hugging him tightly. "You got hurt because of me. It was all my fault. I should've done better, I should've done anything else. You tried to stop me, you tried to warn me, but I was so stupid that I let my overconfidence get the better of me."

"Agent Z, give her a minute to at least gather herself, will you? I'm sure you can kiss her to your heart's content when she's at least out of bed."

You hear somebody else grumble beneath their breath. "No doubt she's got morning's breath, anyway."

You look up to see Jin walking forward beside Yoongi, both shocked, despite how they were trying to compose themselves. You had a feeling it wasn't because of the kiss, either. They weren't as good at hiding feelings as you were, however.

"I'm glad you're ok, Agent Q," Yoongi says gruffly, aloof as always. You could sense the sincerity in his voice, however, and it warms you to the pit of your core.

"Oh? Is the infamous Agent D admitting he cares about me?" You wag your brows up and down to tease him.

"Never mind, I change my mind."

"How do you feel? How much do you remember?" Jin questions, sitting at the foot of the bed.

You slowly piece together what had happened, blurry fragments coming to mind. "We were meeting the new species, trying to ally ourselves with them..."

"And their leader attacked you. Bite into your jugular and ripped it out," Yoongi finishes. "You were dead before you hit the ground, no doubt about it."

"How am I still alive then?" you question, eyes wide, hands flying to your neck. It felt completely fine.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Jin says, hands ghosting along your neck to examine it. "You've got a bit of scarring where the bite mark was. But of white but nothing that you can feel. I'm going to leave for a bit and bring the others, ok? Stay here. Not like you have much of a choice." He chuckles a little at that before departing.

"How'd the paramedics even fix me or revive me?" There was one power no one was able to have, as it was the way of life. No one could bring anyone back to the living from the realm of the dead. Any misconceptions were brought upon by hopeful humans and no one else. If what they said was true, how on Earth were you still alive? "I should really thank them."

"That's the thing- they didn't do anything. You began healing on your own," Jungkook explained. "Flesh and skin just began to grow where it was before. We have no clue what happened. You were about to be brought to the morgue and we were setting up a funeral. Instead, you began breathing again, and all the... emptiness began to be filled. We couldn't believe it."

"They wanted to wait for you to wake up before they began to question you," Jin confirms. "This one here's been waiting beside you every day for the past week. Refused to leave your side. Of course, we all took shifts to look over you, but the kid decided sleep wasn't a necessity."

You give Jungkook a soft look, stroking his cheek fondly. "You didn't have to do that, Kook."

His eyes water up again with tears. "I did, though. It's my fault that you were injured. That you were killed. If I weren't so stupid-"

"Shh, don't say that. Ok? I'm alright, see?" You stretch your neck for emphasis, tilting it from side to side. "Next mission we'll just be more careful, don't worry. Live and learn."

"Next mission? You're going to have bed rest, no way we're letting you out yet. We don't even know what really happened to you or your body," Yoongi reminds you.

"I'm not going to just sit here while you guys are out-"

"Actually all seven of us have refused to begin any missions until you woke up. Part of the whole staying next to you and keeping watch." Jungkook looks a bit nervous, pink dust covering his cheeks.

You give him a warm look, pulling him into your arms once again. "I really appreciate you staying by my side, Jungkook, coma or not. It was kind of you to do."

Yoongi coughed, interrupting the moment. "You know the rest of us looked over you as well."

You quirked your brow at him, a cocky smile pulling at your lips. "Oh? Do you want a hug too, Agent Dick?"

Yoongi scoffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "You wish."

You laugh at that, outright and easy. "Tsundere as always."

Jin arrives, the other four boys traveling behind him.

Hoseok seems to be in a state of shock, frozen. It was as though he were paralyzed at the very sight of you. "Oh my god, you're actually awake."

You smile back at him, beaming. "You doing alright there, Agent A? You look scared of me."

He shakes his head, walking forward. "No, no of course not. I just can't believe it, you know? I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. I'm just... I'm really happy you're ok."

"It's definitely assuring, for sure," Namjoon says, pulling your hair over your shoulder. "May I?"

"Go ahead," you say, twisting it around and tilting your head back. You try not to shudder at the feeling of his fingers against your neck, tracing the scars.

"And all this time I had been trying to convince myself it was just a bad dream," he whispers softly to himself, disbelief lacing his words.

"I can't be more ecstatic!" Jimin says, hugging you tightly and giving you a kiss on the head, holding you close as though trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms into his brain, like a new tattoo that would never fade away. "It's a dream come true!"

You smile, hugging him tightly too, despite how it hurt your aching body. "I missed you too, Agent P."

You look over to Taehyung, confused as to why he hadn't greeted you yet. He catches your eye, and with a shaky hand reaches forward, as though to touch you, make sure you were alive and well. His hand shakes, however, and he pulls it back.

"Agent V? What's wrong?" You give him a worried look, wondering if everything was alright.

"Nothing. I'm very happy, it's just..." He trails off. "I need to go to the restroom."

"Oh, alright." You don't bother to cover your expression of disappointment, watching as he walked out of the ER room. You look to the boys, all of them wearing the same look as they tried to avoid your eye. "What happened?"

"Agent V is doing worst off, admittedly," Jimin tells you. "When you died, he took it the hardest. He had a panic attack, and ever since he's been a bit like a ghost. I don't blame him. It's confusing going through the stages of grief, and in the middle of it what you're grieving over changes? He's scared he's going to break you or hurt you, and by extension, him."

Your face crumples at that. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I want him to know that he shouldn't be scared of that. I can handle myself."

"Of course he knows. He's just worried, that's all. It really shook him up. All of us," Namjoon explains. "It was traumatic."

You chuckle, shrugging it off as you try to joke. "The traumatizing part is when I tried to heal, I bet. You thought you finally got rid of me."

"Y/N, this is no joking matter," Yoongi tells you seriously.

"Yeah, we were all pretty shaken up over it. We might be coping better than Agent V, but we weren't handling it hot ourselves," Hoseok assures you. "If you had seen what it was like after you died... the moment right after... It was like our world came crashing down. For all of us."

"It was the worst pain any of us could've felt. And that's saying a lot for agents like us," Jungkook tells you.

"Oh." Your face softens at that. "Why are you so shaken up by my death, though? We've seen agents die. We've seen friends die. We've gone through traumatizing experiences, all of us. I would've figured this would just be another day."

"You don't get it, do you?" Jin says, sighing.

"Don't get what?"

Jimin chuckles, ruffling your hair fondly. "For such a smart agent, you sure can be dense sometimes."

"Just explain to me already, then."

"Don't you see? You're... we..." For once Namjoon seems to be at a loss of words, unable to even finish the sentence. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, mouth dry.

"We care about you and we aren't complete psychopaths," Yoongi finished. "Simple as that. We know you better than we knew the others who died, it's only natural you're the one we're going to be affected by."

"Oh, alright." You felt too tired to pry, but sensed something was up. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, though, still a bit disoriented.

"I'm going to check on Agent V," Jungkook says. "He's been gone for a while. He just needs to compose himself."

The boys watch as he leaves, and Jin turns to you with a questioning look. "Why'd the kid kiss you anyway?

"Wait, Jungkook kissed Y/N?" Jimin questioned, eyes wide.

"Yeah, walked in and he was shoving his tongue down her throat. It was the moment she woke up, too." Jin laughed a bit at that.

"Alright, he didn't shove his tongue down my throat or anything. I think he was just happy to see me, alive and all." Besides, Jimin, you've done more than just kiss me. You shouldn't be so shocked."

"We were all happy to see you. Even if some of us have a harder time of expressing that," Hoseok bluntly says.

You soak in his words and wear a sorrowful face. "I'm really sorry about Taehyung. I know there's not much I can do but... I don't know. I feel bad."

"You just need to assure him you'll be ok. For the first time, we really saw the mortality of you and how fragile human life is. None of us had really taken much consideration in losing you. We'd figure you'd last long when we were all in perhaps our thirties and experienced. We didn't think it'd be in front of us in one of the most vicious ways possible. So... young. We knew you could take care of yourself, but another part of it was the fact that we couldn't protect you. We all felt... useless. And I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we would've traded places with you in a heartbeat," Namjoon explains.

"Don't say stuff like that," you tell him. "I'll talk to Taehyung. I don't know how much I can do, but I do what him to be able to look me in the eye and heal. I'm sure he's expecting me to drop dead in front of him any moment."

"Just give the kid time. You've always meant a lot to him. Losing you was a reality of his worst fear. Healing doesn't happen in just a day, and getting over a death takes a while, whether the person ends up alright or not."

For a moment you think back to your family, who you faked your death to. Would they feel that way if you suddenly showed up at their front door? Would they react the same way Taehyung did? Did they grieve your death? Did they get over it? Would they see a walking corpse before them?

"Ah, gentlemen, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave Agent Q with me a bit. I'm the head doctor at this institution, and it'd be best if I examine the patient alone. Even with her lovers here."

You turn to look at the woman, a doctor who matched the cold, distant, and cleanly atmosphere of the ER. The boys didn't comment further, instead shuffling out to join Taehyung and Jungkook.

You smiled up at the woman, smoothing over your bedsheets as you stood up a bit straighter. "So, when will I be able to leave and get back to kicking butt, doc?"

She didn't seem humored by your enthusiasm, instead looking through her clipboard, flipping over papers.

"Never, I'm afraid."

Your expression turned blank with disbelief. "I'm sorry- what?"

"Never," she repeats, looking up at you. "Please look at this, Agent Q."

She hands you the clipboard, the page turned to a picture. In it were red blood cells, though some of them looked... different. Tiny patches of the universe in the shape of the blood cells, as though a virus had infected some of them. You began to look throguh the other pages. It detailed your own background, as well as other papers that detailed all known information about the species that had attacked you and your group. The other papers described the healing process, as well as day by day photographs of your healing neck. You winced seeing your corpse, the bloody and gruesome death tangible past the ink.

"What is this?"

"It appears that you've been injected with the Anancite's DNA, and it's becoming intermingled with your own. It explains why you were able to heal so quickly and be brought to the death practically, and this sort of thing we can't simply have running around the country, disarming bombs in South Africa or flying aircrafts."

"What else am I supposed to do? I'm an agent! I'm supposed to be on the field with my fellow men defending my country! I'm supposed to be out there creating harmony for humans and aliens alike! I can't just sit here in a bed and let some goddamn DNA get in the way of that. I earned my position just like anyone else, and the only way I'm leaving it would be through death."

The woman sighed as though both agitated and expecting your answer. She seemed prepared to counter it, however. "You signed up to protect your planet, no? Well, sometimes it isn't always chit chat or karate with aliens. A lot goes behind the scenes. Who do you think makes your weapons? Your jets? Your goddamn suits. Who do you think takes care of all of you and gathers enough intel for you to carry out your missions? There's a lot more that can be accomplished besides running off to the middle of nowhere. One of those things is through data and research and science."

You open your mouth to argue, but she holds up a finger, indicating she wasn't done.

"I don't think you realize just how special all of this is. Never before have we seen this species, and never before have we had half human half alien. Try as some might, the most we could get would be full alien spawn from incubi and succubi, and full vampires from the vampires who infect humans. However, yours seems to be mingling enough where you still have human characteristics. We don't know what else will be brought to you by the alien DNA, but looking at how fast you healed, I think it's a safe bet to assume there's more. Now, tell me, are you really going to let this pristine opportunity of doing something no one else has accomplished, to discover something that's never been done, all for your own selfish qualms of running around with your boy toys?"

You're quiet at that. She continues.

"As a woman, I would assume you'd want more for us. Contributing to science, a field so many men occupy. Finally, we have something for ourselves. Think about how many will look up to you for your noble sacrifice. How much knowledge this will bring the world. And all because of a woman. You'd be doing the world a great justice. You said you'd give your life to serve this planet, and you won't even have to do that. You said you'd do anything for this planet though and now is your chance to prove it. I ask you, Y/N, as two women who are trying to make our mark on the world, are you really going to give up all of this opportunity, for not only yourself but for billions all over the world?"

"No," you confirm. She had brought up many great points. Were you really going to be so selfish when you had signed up offering much more? You put your life on the table. You should've suspected at some point they were going to take it. Still, you didn't expect it to be so... soon.

She gives a victorious smile taking the clipboard back from you. "I knew we could trust in you, Agent Q. Your name will be remembered for generations to come."

She turns to a tray of tools, rolling a small bottle between her fingertips before plunging the needle inside, filling it all the way. She held it up, some of the liquid spilling from the tip, which was long and intimidating. She reached inside your mouth, her rubber covered thumb pressing down on your tongue as she forced your mouth open.

"Now, say 'ah'."

-

You lost time of how long it was since they started doing experiments on you.

Most of the time you were kept in a solitary room, bound to a hospital bed as though you were in an asylum. They claimed it was for the doctor's safety and your own. After all, they didn't know what you were capable of. Truth be told you suspected that it was because you were slowly becoming the creature that attacked you.

You had to face the facts. You were no longer human to them.

The experiments were closer to torture in your opinion. Every day they would draw blood. Every day they would poke and prod you. Every day they would push you to your limits pain wise and psychologically wise, trying to see how far they could go before they got an unnatural reaction. Sometimes things would happen, little or big, and they'd get excited, talking amongst themselves and repeating the process a dozen time more before they figured out another way of bringing you misery.

It wasn't long until you broke, crying and sobbing for them to let you go. You'd thrash about, demanding they'd let you go, lest they wished for each torture session they indulged in to be brought upon them times three. They'd never listen, however, looking at you as you pathetically pulled at your bindings, only sedating you when you began to hurt yourself, letting the leather burn or cut into your skin.

You wanted this, they said.

You asked for this, they said.

You agreed to this, they said.

No matter how much you begged for it to stop, they insisted that ever since you agreed to the process, you were no more than agency property now. You had been reduced to nothing more than furniture, or a pet.

You belong to the agency now.

You can't hurt yourself. That's destruction of EAA property.

Property. Property. Property.

After a while, you began to believe it.

And by god, you were tired. No matter how much they fed you or gave you, you felt completely drained. Your face had sunken in, dark circles beneath your eyes no matter how much sleep you got. You actually looked like a walking corpse now, and it wasn't pretty. You were becoming no more than a skeleton, withering away before their very eyes, becoming a skeleton with skin. They were trying to fix it, though. Couldn't have their favorite guinea pig die on them.

You wondered to yourself how you let it get to this. You were one of the most esteemed and respected agents in the field, at the top of the world, and you crashed to the bottom as nothing more than a lab pet. You hadn't seen any of your friends since you got locked away. Did they think you abandoned them? Did they miss you?

You felt abandoned. The worst moments were after all the experiments, when you were just left alone in the dark, bound and unable to move. You were alone with just your thoughts.

You got a lot of thinking done during that time, not all of it pleasant.

You thought a bit about the boys, and all the fun adventures they were going on without you.

You thought about the new Agent Q they inevitably got to replace you. Was it a boy or a girl? Did the boys like them better than you? Were they glad you were gone? Despite how frazzled they had seemed after your death, your mind wandered to dark places with your isolation.

You thought a bit about your family. You wanted to apologize to your mother for leaving her. You thought about your little sister. She'd be a grown up by now. How much you had missed in her life. You missed her getting her license, her graduation, her getting into college. You wondered how many birthday parties, love interests, and more you had missed.

If you knew things would've gone like this, you would've never left.

But you couldn't repeat the past. You couldn't rewind that clock and change what would happen.

You were glad for one thing, though. That it was you that got bitten rather than Jungkook or one of the boys, as originally intended. It was better for you to be here enduring this fate, rather than any of your friends. If one of them had to go through this, you didn't think you'd be able to handle it. You'd go mad on your own.

You deserve this.

It's your fault.

No one will even notice you're gone.

You squeeze your hands into fists, tugging against your bindings.

Fuck the paramedics.

Fuck the aliens.

Fuck everybody.

You hear a rattling above you, and strain to listen in. Finally, you hear it.

"Agent Q?"

"Yes?"

"It's me, Hoseok. Where've you been? What're you doing here?"

Figures he couldn't see in the dark. You had no doubt he was in the ventilation system, but none of it entered your room. He wouldn't be able to get in that way, but the most he could do was hear you.

"Oh, y' know, getting experimented on. Apparently, I'm part alien which has never happened before. Who knew, right?" It felt good to finally talk to a friend. Even if you couldn't see him, you knew that listening to his voice would be enough to get you through at least a few more days of torture. It felt good to quip again. "Other than that, pretty standard. How's your day been?"

"Wait- did she say she was getting experimented on?"

"Ah, Agent P, is that you?"

"Agent Q, what's going on? What're they doing to you down there."

You chuckle, leaning back into your bed. "Better me than you, Jimin. Better me than you."

"Are you alright at least?"

"Never been better!" The sarcasm drips out of your voice like honey, slow and sweet.

"Is this why you've been gone so long? Have they taken you away from us because..."

It was hard for Hoseok to wrap his head around this, evidently. You didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Well apparently I was injected with some of that alien's DNA, and now it's spreading throughout me to the point I'm half alien. I've got some superpowers or whatever, which I'd say is neat if I were able to use them. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, am I right?"

"Jesus Christ- are they ever going to let you out?"

Your face sours, and you can hear the worry in his voice. "No."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm afraid that for once I'm completely serious. Apparently, this is a 'divine opportunity' for our planet that can't be compared. If I were to leave it'd be a disaster. A stolen opportunity to get information and research and data- I'm the first of my kind."

"This... This is inhumane!" Jimin sputters, guffawing.

"Well, I'm reminded often I'm officially property of the EAA. I wouldn't say they still see me as human."

There's a moment of silence between all three of us.

you take a deep breath, as much as it pains you to say the following. "Guys, I know what you're thinking. It's going to be harder than you think it is because they also know what you're thinking. I don't advise it, it'll cause more trouble than it's worth. And... And as much as I hate to admit it, it might not be safe for me to even be around you. I can do things now that I was never able to do before. I can't even control it because they just keep me bound and locked away. The last thing I'd want is to hurt you in the process."

"To hell with that!" Hoseok spits. "I don't care if you're part alien or full alien or whatever! This is wrong and we're getting you out of there no matter what, you hear me?"

"Agent A...."

"Don't 'Agent A' me. This is non-negotiable. "

"It's a bad idea. You'd have to be on the run for the rest of your life. There'd be nowhere to hide. They'd find us and they'd kill us. I'll just be brought back here at square one."

"Agent A is right, though. We can't just leave you here," Jimin protests.

"Guys, it's alright, really. I... I agreed to this."

"You... agreed to this?"

"Not necessarily the torture part but... yeah. I agreed to this."

"Why?"

"Is it important? The point is what's done is done. They probably wouldn't have given me a choice anyway. It'd be best to leave me here. It'd cause way more trouble to try and rescue me and I've sealed myself to this fate. Better me than you, as I said."

"No, it's not. You don't deserve this, Agent Q. Any of this. We're getting you out of here," Hoseok insisted.

"No. Please, don't that's not what I want. Maybe just... Just talk to me once in a while, like this, y' know? It helps. It gets so negative, being here... all alone with my own thoughts. The paramedics don't exactly help. But I feel a bit more like myself when I'm with you guys, even just listening to your voice. I think I can get through this if you guys just talk to me once in a while. I hate to admit it but... it's lonely. I'm so tired now... So drained, I guess? I feel like I'm slowly withering away so my last moments, and I don't think I'll last long. They don't even know what's wrong with me. So please... I don't want to ask for too much or impose, but just talk to me a bit in these last moments, ok? It's ok to say no, but I'd appreciate it. I feel a little bit stronger, more human, with you guys. Makes me feel like I can last at least another day in this hell hole."

There's a moment of silence.

"We'll talk to the others about it," Jimin promises.

You close your eyes, nodding despite the fact they can't even see you. "That's all you can do, I suppose."

"We'll be back, though. We promise," Hoseok assures you. You can hear a bit of rustling above you, and before you knew it they were gone.

No one came to talk to you again.

[enigmari]

Oh my GOD Please infodump abt hatoful.... ive repeatedly tried to get into it but have no idea how/how to connect any of the lore. Thanos !

I SAW THE TYPO TOO LATE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO END WITH “THANKS”,

SKDFSKJSLKDFJ no worries anon, it happens to the best of us. Anyways, how should I start this…

So, if you’re totally new here, Hatoful Boyfriend is a visual novel dating sim whose basic premise is “what if cliched boyfriend archetypes… but birds?” And it takes this premise completely wholeheartedly, while still maintaining a comedic tone. You pick classes and club activities each in-game day to increase your skill points, and depending on your levels (and a few dialogue options) you’ll either successfully romance your birdie of choice or get a Bad End. Most of the birds make their interests/level requirements obvious from the start, and you have a bunch of save slots to work with if you wanna go the scum route. Pretty simple and straightforward.

(Actually, that’s a lie, it gets much more complicated later. Don’t worry about that right now.)

Most of HBF is framed through the perspective of the protagonist (I’m gonna use her canon name for convenience) Hiyoko, and she is… not the brightest bulb in the box. Especially in the first game, when events in one character’s route will be foreshadowed in other routes, she will rarely call them out or make note of them. Naturally, this also means some reveals will be spoiled depending on which order you do the routes in. You also unlock documents in the Archive section after completing each route, which adds another level of puzzle piecing to the mix. 

(No, this is not the complicated part I was talking about earlier. Sorry.)

In this next bit, I’m going to briefly run through the routes of the first game from least to most complex in terms of lore, as well as what things are foreshadowed when. I’ll also toss in the archive documents when I feel they’re most relevant to the information you have. We ready?

Okosan’s routes: Mostly joke endings, unless there is some greater plot significance to pudding that I’ve missed for all these years.

Ryouta’s route: Mostly about character building, the only real hint you get is that his mother is sickly and it’s implied he inherited this from her.

Azami’s routes: You could get here with the same stats as Ryouta’s route, but then you fuck it up by taking this job opportunity away from him. How rude, Hiyoko.

Sakuya’s first route: He opens up to you about his abusive and bigoted dad, and with some encouragement you encourage him to run away and become a musician like he always wanted. Mr. Le Bel is very important to multiple other characters in this game.

Sakuya’s second route (needs perfect stats/dialogue choices): Same conversation about his dad, but he chooses to live with you instead. Your big hint is at the end, when Yuuya sends you a letter saying there’s “something he’s wanted to tell [Sakuya] for a long time. Something important.” 

Yuuya’s route: You don’t actually get to find out what the "important thing" is, whoops. You do find out that Yuuya’s a spy for the Dove Party, Shuu is one for the Hawk Party, and the school has been increasingly influenced by the Hawk Party as of late. 

BAD END: You may have gotten it earlier, but now you have context as to who’s killing you when you fail a route- it’s the Hawk Party. The reason why is still unclear.

[CW for gore, child death, medical abuse, suicide, and attempted genocide from here on! This game is a trip!]

Shuu’s first route: Absolutely not a romance route and if you ship Shuu/Hiyoko please block me and tab out immediately thank you very much. You learn that Shuu has been killing students for medical experimentation, confirming Yuuya’s suspicions about the quills in the student store and the food in the cafeteria.

Shuu’s second route (needs perfect stats/dialogue choices): Same ending where Hiyoko dies, but he’s attached enough to her that he takes her head in a jar when he goes on the run. You do learn that Shuu doesn’t care about the Hawk Party’s politics, just that they can enable his personal experiments.

Archive Note 11: Someone (Shuu) knew that Yuuya was a Dove Party agent from the start. He also notes that some of the students are “fascinating”, which you know from his route means they’re good experiment fodder. You learn that he has reason to believe his victims won’t oppose the experimentation, but not the details.

Archive Note 10: Shuu makes notes about human “adaptability measures.” Given that Hiyoko is the only human at the school, you can guess that this will involve her in some way.

Archive Note 06: Notes about the Spanish Flu, how deadly it was to humans, and the connection to an “Avian Influenza.”

Archive Note 04: Notes about a “Goodwill Ambassador” for humanity, who needs a strong natural immunity to Avian Influenza. Hiyoko’s stats show that she has a base level of 800 Vitality, so you can guess that she’s the ambassador. This is why she dies when you fail a route- the Hawk Party saw she didn’t build a good enough connection to the birds, so they take her as a lost cause.

Archive Note 07: Shuu makes notes about “carrier capacity” in the student body, inducing it in some way in a “normal” individual. You can guess this is the details of his medical experimentation, but not who the victim is. You can also guess that the disease to be carried is Avian Influenza.

Anghel’s route: It’s not actually that complicated, but I think you need to complete Shuu’s route before the “mad love of a fallen angel” option is available. (EDIT: you actually just need to complete one playthrough to unlock this option. Even the Azami solo ending will unlock it.)  This ending seemingly undermines all the things we learned about Shuu right before, but this is just Hiyoko’s perspective.

Archive Note 01: A certain student (Anghel) has hallucinogenic properties that can affect bystanders, putting them in a trance-like state. This explains why everything went totally off the rails in his route.

Kazuaki’s route: Again not a romance route (no matter what he says about “waiting”, ew) because the whole point is that Kazuaki is afraid to open himself up to love of any kind. You learn he had someone he cared deeply about in the past but lost, and now he’s been soured from the experience. You also learn that he smells like bleach.

Nageki’s route: You learn that he’s a ghost, that he killed himself in the school some years ago, and that he doesn’t have all his memories. He disappears before you learn anything more, but he’s happy so it’s okay and why am I crying agai-

Archive Note 02: Someone (Nageki) writes about how they are trapped, and can’t remember what happened to them.

Archive Note 05: Nageki remembers he made a promise to someone very important, but he can’t remember who or what it was.

Archive Note 03: Nageki once woke up in a place that wasn’t the library- somewhere with bright lights and a white ceiling. He’s not as trapped as he first thought.

Archive Note 14: Nageki notes that he can move between floors, going from the library to the chemistry lab below. You can guess that the place with the bright lights is somewhere below these two rooms. This also reveals that Nageki knew the layout of the school when he was alive.

Archive Note 12: Nageki notes that after meeting Hiyoko, he feels fulfilled “just as he did back then.” He still can’t remember everything, though.

Archive Note 08: Notes about an underground facility, a fire, and a Subject 00 whose remains are in storage. You can guess that the facility is the place with the bright lights, and Nageki is Subject 00. You can also guess that Nageki set the fire, since he said that he killed himself.

Archive Note 09: Notes about Subject 00′s relative, whose remains are also in storage. You can guess that this is the “important person” that Nageki made a promise to a long time ago.

At this point, the only documents left are Note 13, which is about a terrorist incident at the Heartful House orphanage in which only two birds survived, and Note 15, which is about another terrorist incident some years ago in which the Ave’s High City building was bombed. Nothing in the main routes hints at these notes, so it’s a good time to move to…

Bad Boys Love route: This route is literally the length of the rest of the routes combined, so we’re doin’ more sections, baby!

Kazuaki’s lost loved one and Nageki’s important person turn out to be each other. They were the survivors of the Heartful House incident, and Kazuaki (real name Hitori) took care of his little brother by himself. Nageki was sickly, so he volunteered himself for a medical experiment at the school that could potentially cure him to take the burden off of Hitori. 

Unbeknownst to them, the Hawk Party was already in control of the school and their real motive was to investigate the disease Nageki was carrying- Avian Influenza. Shuu was specifically the lead for this project, and he also witnessed the Heartful House incident when it happened. At the time, he went by the name Isa Souma and was a medical researcher. He worked with Ryuuji Kawara, Ryouta’s dad, until Ryuuji’s death from disease.

Ryouta and Hiyoko were also there, because her parents were former human ambassadors too. Unfortunately, they became some of the casualties, which left the two kids heartbroken. Shuu, seeing them and recognizing Ryouta, offered to grant them a wish. They both wished for a world where humans and birds would never fight anymore, which Shuu took to mean “kill all the remaining humans so they can’t fight the birds” because… he’s like that. 

Shuu decided that the easiest way to kill all the humans would be to spread the Avian Influenza, and this is why he sought out Nageki. Nageki was forced to kill humans as part of the experiments, and this traumatized him so much that he set the lab on fire to stop it, trapping himself inside. Hitori witnessed this too, and swore to get revenge despite Nageki asking him to destroy his remains and live a happy life. He bleached his feathers and swapped identities with another bird to fake his death, and applied to the school as a teacher under his new name. 

Nageki’s plan didn’t entirely work, and the Hawk Party was able to store some of his remains for future experiments with Avian Influenza. This brings us to the timeline of the main routes, where Shuu took advantage of Ryouta’s sickly constitution to make him a new carrier for Avian Influenza. Yuuya tried to interfere on behalf of the Dove Party, but Shuu blackmailed him with the knowledge that he killed his real half-brother because he hated Mr. Le Bel and wanted Sakuya to live instead. 

The new strain of Avian Influenza that Ryouta carried was enough to make Hiyoko sick and kill her. The death of the Human Ambassador kickstarts the beginning of this route, and Shuu planned for the humans who would retaliate to also be infected. It doesn’t go as he planned, of course, but that’s laid out pretty well in the rest of the route so I won’t re-summarize it here. 

Aaaand that’s about everything for the first Hatoful Boyfriend game! I’ll gladly do infodumps/lore summaries for Holiday Star or the other side materials if anyone wants, but this took almost three hours to write as is so I’m going to give myself a break.