#she would still watch the recording of her parents death over and over because she cannot move on

[handfulofmuses]

"..."

[giamee]

🌺 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘!

STARRING. ノ dan heng

request. ノ anon: helloo if it's right up your alley, could you do a danheng x reader hanahaki au? one where the reader thinks he and someone else have something going on given how caring danheng is through that stoic face of his! but really, danheng is just too kind and you're much too caught up with your own feelings

word count. ノ 3.4k

contains. ノ hanahaki!reader, u and dan heng r both kinda dumb, angst pertaining to the hanahaki trope, you can tell how old this fic is because it's set during the jarilo-vi story quest, some unfounded jealousy of march 7th?, mentions of death and injury and some graphic descriptions of blood and illness

gia's notes. ノ this was the very first request that i ever received on this blog. over a year ago. i drafted this fic and wrote out about 70% of it then let it rot at the bottom of my drafts. anon, you have the patience of a saint if you're still here.

THE MOMENT THAT YOU STEPPED FOOT ONTO THE ASTRAL EXPRESS, you had the sneaking suspicion that you were doomed. Your fate was set in stone as soon as you felt the hard encasing of a seed clutch the walls of your heart in a vice grip when you first laid eyes upon him.

Dan Heng was elusive. The others had been warm in their welcome, but it took the combined efforts of yourself and March 7th to find him hidden in the recesses of the train’s records room. His greeting was a mere nod in your direction before Welt required your presence again, but that’s all you needed.

His eyes were cool, practically piercing through your skin as March 7th ushered you pack to the parlour car, and you felt yourself shiver as his intense stare burned itself into the back of your head.

And while he’s intimidating, sure, that’s not why you stayed away from Dan Heng. He had a cold and callous exterior that you had never seen crack, yet all the same you had felt the start of a crush start to take root.

And this may not have been a problem at all if it weren’t for two details that were like a slap to the face for you.

One, you were fairly certain that Dan Heng had his eyes for March 7th.

And two, if your crush didn’t return your feelings, you would die.

It wasn’t a case of exaggeration, either. You had been aware of the fact that to develop feelings for someone was dangerous, as it had been drilled into you from a young age by your parents. They had gripped your hands, steering you away from other children with little more explanation than that, always chastised you for wanting to forge a human connection, keeping you isolated from the world around you, better safe than sorry.

And you had felt so alone.

Being forced to live a life in confinement was not an easy one, and despite your parents’ wishes, you had told them of your plan to to finally go out into the world, to live a life from experience and not watching it unfold as an impassive reader of a book or on your phone screen, danger be damned.

So it wasn’t really your fault that you had been so quick to develop those feelings that had been so often described in the books you read, as an explosion of butterflies erupted within you upon meeting someone else, another person for the first time.

And yet you found yourself in the same predicament- a watcher from afar. The heart wants what it wants was a bitter mantra that seemed to enjoy your misery as you watched March 7th excitedly chatter with Dan Heng, and you could have sworn the man even cracked the smallest of smiles at whatever she was saying. And really, could you blame him for it? March was kind, bubbly, outgoing- a perfect match for the stoic and seeming immovable Dan Heng.

It was more common sense than pessimism that had you concluding that you didn’t really stand a chance for his affections against someone like her. You doubt that Dan Heng even looked at you more than he had to. You, so secretive and elusive that you gave him a run for his money; and two similar poles never attracted each other. It was a funny hand that fate had dealt you, but you had to play with those cards regardless.

As if to mock you, you ducked away from the outskirts of the room, feeling a coughing fit coming. You had barely made it to your room before you doubled over, feeling your insides run ragged by the prickly thorns of the rose bush that grew inside you.

A single bloodstained petal fell into your palm.

Besides the quickly growing issue that you refused to acknowledge, life on the Astral Express wasn’t awful. You hadn’t yet confided in anyone about your condition, so to speak, and not entirely because you didn’t want to. To be completely honest with yourself, there was much that you didn’t know about it.

And so you timed it well- you waited for the subject of your affliction- for Dan Heng to leave his unofficial bedroom before you slipped through the door into the records room, desperate to find any sort of information that might help you find some sort of cure.

There was a small computer in the corner that you quickly typed your symptoms into- flower. unrequited love. coughing fits. You didn’t know if the single digit of entries was a cause for concern or not, but your brows furrowed as you began to scan through them. The number of obituary entries that were listed on this one document alone was making you shiver. You clicked out of it, about to open the next one before the door sliding open had you starting like a frightened animal.

Dan Heng strolled in, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he registered that you were in the room, in his room. He spoke your name, softly, as if trying not to scare you further. You would have said something, honestly, if it weren’t for the sudden explosive coughing fit that came on a lot quicker than usual.

You could barely get a word out before you were bent over from the force of your coughs, tears pricking your eyes from the newfound intensity of the pain coming from inside you. Despite your hands clasped over your mouth, a couple of petals escaped and fluttered down to the floor, some distance between you and the horrified Dan Heng.

He was frozen in place, fingers itching to reach out to you and comfort you, but with the way you practically flinched away from him, he wasn’t sure if his presence was wanted. He barely caught a glimpse of your pained face before you darted around him and back to your own room on the train.

Dan Heng scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration at his inability to act, before his attention diverted once again to the bloody petals on the floor, and the files on the record searcher that you hadn’t completely closed. He cast one last guilty glance back in your direction before heading closer to the screen and beginning to read.

The Trailblazers’ journey must progress, and your heart hammered for another reason other than a sighting of the raven-haired male who you still harboured feelings for. You had ultimately left your home to explore the world, and with the Express finally stopping at the planet Belobog- your promise to yourself was a step closer to being fulfilled. You disembarked alongside Stelle and March, doing your best to avoid Dan Heng like the plague ever since that fated day. You didn’t know how much he exactly knew, but you had no intentions of finding out.

Your plans of peaceful exploration, however, were short lived with the arrival of Silvermane guards to greet you. In the chaos of the smoke, it was not lost on you that Dan Heng had instinctively protected March, practically shielding her with his body. As Stelle dragged you along some backway path in pursuit of some mystery saviour, you felt the excruciating addition of a new thorn in your heart.

The adrenaline of the escape had worn off by now, and you could feel your secret threatening to spill over any second now. You could barely warn Stelle to let you move off to the side before you were keeled over, closer to gagging than coughing as a large ball of petals and dark, dark blood forced its way through your throat. You felt faint, barely registering the panicked calls of your name as you felt your world turn sideways, Stelle’s face and voice being quickly replaced by another deeper one, with fear in their eyes and a certain desperate edge as you felt yourself slip into unconsciousness.

It's a dreamless sleep, yet it isn't restful, judging by how you feel like you've been hit by a bus when you sit up. Every fibre of your being aches, and there's a harsh overhead light that dazzles you as you blink awake.

As your eyes grow accustomed to it, there's a surge of panic as you don't recognise your surroundings. It looks like a clinic of some sorts- and there was the cloying smell of chemicals that invaded your nostrils. You struggled to sit up, until you felt a hand place itself gently against your chest.

A dark-haired woman with a doctor's coat smiles down at you warmly, and you eye her warily.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Natasha, I'm a doctor in the Underworld. Try not to move around too much, dear. You've been unconscious for quite some time and your condition is unstable, you still need rest."

"Where's the people that I was with?"

"They've all awoken a few hours before you." She casts a quick glance at the clipboard in her hands, as if to fact check herself, giving herself a quick satisfactory nod. "Don't worry, you haven't been abandoned. They should be just outside. The young man sat by your bedside while you were unconscious only left a few minutes ago- he got whisked away by one of my... colleagues."

Your mind's racing now, wondering who she could be talking about. Hoping that it was who you thought it was. But she reiterates her request to lie back down, and you comply begrudgingly. You start to settle down, until you catch a glimpse of the mess lying atop your blankets. A visceral combination of blood and crumpled petals rest upon the fabric, and you watch the doctor's expression become grave.

"That is the unstable part of your condition that I wanted to discuss." She pulls up a chair besides you, settling neatly, hands folded in her lap. "How long have these symptoms been ailing you?"

You furrow your brows, recalling how they started a mere month or two ago, after you joined the Astral Express. After you met him.

"A couple of months." Natasha nods, a frown forming on her face again.

"Considering how quickly it has developed, I imagine that your case is rather severe." You shrug, a humourless smile on your face.

"There's not much that I can do about it, Doc."

"I'm sure that you're aware of the risks that come with a confession, but as a bystander rather than a doctor, I think that you should talk to him."

"Who?"

"The man who refused to leave your side for all of these hours."

You hoped that Natasha was right. Deciding to ignore her advice of continued bed rest, you force yourself up, walking out of the clinic in search of him. Welt was no young man, and there wasn't anyone else that came to mind based off of Natasha's description. It couldn't be anyone else than him, right?

You stumble out onto the streets of the Underworld, garnering a few odd looks from passerbys as you wander around, looking for not just Dan Heng but anyone that you recognised.

You round a corner, seeing the back of a head and clothing that looks an awful lot like him. Who you're planning to confess to. You call his name, out loud, voice a little hoarse.

And he turns, beautiful crystalline eyes meeting yours. Call it a trick of the light, but you could have sworn that they shone a tad lighter when he saw you. But your gaze drifted past him, and all bubbling hope was quelled once again in your heart as you recognised the figure of March 7th stood with him.

Of course he would be with her.

If you looked closer at the pair of them, all signs indicated an intimacy to them that made you feel sick. There was a serious look on her face, one of her hands rested against his arm, but she soon recognised you too, her face instantly perking up as she began to ran towards you, calling your name.

"You're finally awake, you're OK!" she calls out in delight, her arms wrapping around you as she practically barrels into you, threatening to knock you off balance. You stumble, returning the hug, the nausea turning to guilt as you remember how the girl has been nothing but good to you. Of course Dan Heng would harbour feelings for her, not you.

The Doctor's order was wrong.

You sigh to yourself in defeat, unwinding your arms and shooting March 7th the best smile that you could muster in the moment.

"I feel better, but I'm still feeling weak so I might go back to the clinic."

March 7th frowns, eyes scanning your figure in concern.

"Are you OK, Y/N?"

"Do you want me to walk you back?" You twitched, not even realising that Dan Heng had caught up to the pair of you. He was also looking at you with concern, and you could feel an onslaught of petals coming.

"No, it's fine, I'll go back on my own." You don't really give either of them the chance to respond, spinning on your heel and trying not to run back from where you came.

You felt... worse. Before, you had at least been able to function, but now you felt so much limper, and weaker. You cursed at yourself for allowing false hope to be instilled, just as the coughing begins. It wracks through you, so hard that you almost dry heave as you keel over, and you watch in horror as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and see it come back crimson.

At least the clinic was around the corner.

You barely make it inside, unable to stand up straight by this point. Natasha springs to action, helping you back into a bed, helping you through the worst of the coughing. It's so much more draining than before, and you're quick to fall into a fitful sleep.

Even unconscious, you don't get a reprieve. Even in your dreams, he's all you can think of. There's a spitting image of him stood before you, eyes soft and voice like honey as he calls out to you, hands outstretched. And you try to join him, fingers straining to touch his before you watch them turn into branches and flower before your very eyes. You look down, and it hurts, with brambles wrapping themselves around your middle. And just as fast as they grow, your new floral appendages wilt before your very eyes. Branches drooping, flowers losing their hue, and you feel yourself start to fade, his name one last desperate cry from your lips.

You wake up, tears staining your cheeks and you trembling. For a few panicked seconds, you think you're still dreaming because he is here, sat by your bed, and as he stands up to wipe your tears you shrink back in fear of turning back to branches again.

But his warm palm cups your face, solid against your trembling state, deft thumbs wiping away your tears, an uncharacteristically soft hushing and cooing coming from Dan Heng as he promises you that everything is okay now.

It's easy to believe him, with the way he moves even closer to hold you, cradle your form against his warmth, patting your hair and letting you cry until you can't any more amidst the petals on your bedsheets.

You don't know how long the pair of you stay like this, your face pressed into his chest, his heartbeat leading yours back into the range of one at rest rather than its prior pounding against your ribcage. You would stay there for the rest of time, if you had a choice, but you had to admit that the oxidation of blood and its drying against your skin was making you feel ever so slightly uncomfortable.

You clear your throat, as best as you can in your hoarse state, and Dan Heng picks up on your withdrawal as he all but flinches away from you, returning the distance that usually lies between your two bodies. But his eyes still scour your figure, your face, for any and all signs of discomfort. Like a lover would. The thought melds with the already-bitter taste of blood residing against your tongue, and you frown down at your lap. At the petals. At your pathetic form lying beneath the blanket, obscured from view.

“How long has this been happening for?” Dan Heng sounds so timid, as if he were walking on glass sheets around you. Ever since that fateful day in the records room, it felt like he had done nothing but tiptoe and tread around you, a careful dance of avoidance that you were forced to be his partner in. You sigh deeply, a hand gingerly beginning to gather the gorey sight of such beautiful pink marred by the visceral crimson that remained, not yet dried.

“I’ve had it all my life, apparently, but it only started making itself known once I joined the Astral Express.” Once I met you.

“I, um- I looked into it more. In the records.” His admission made you snap your head up to face him, cautious of his next words, whatever they may be. He looked nervous himself, with eyes that refused to meet yours and fingers that twisted into his clothes, toying with the hem of his jacket.

“I read of many such cases where people were able to make a full recovery.” He sounds so hopeful, even daring to meet your eyes, that you almost feel bad for him. It was like looking back at a past version of yourself, so hopeful for a happy ending that once sparkled in your eyes, now a dull flicker you can see when the lighting is just right.

“It’s not that simple, Dan Heng.”

“What do you mean, it said that there weren’t any later cases of symptoms returning-”

“That’s because it’s not an illness from the body.” You’re snappier than you intend to be, you see it in the way his mouth snaps shut and his throat bobs against his collar, as he sits up straighter, waiting for you to continue. “The only cure is to confess to the person that I love.”

“And why haven’t you?” His voice is barely above a murmur, and even from his place in the seat next to our bed, you hear him just fine.

“Because I’m sure that he has eyes for another.” You’ve collected all the petals in your palm by now, observing them with a dry humour as you notice that they’ve begun to wither, much like yourself. You doubt that you could go on much longer after this conversation. Part of you urges to get it over with, to confess now and let yourself bloom with one last glance upon his face.

Dan Heng must have scoured each and every record, because you didn’t need to offer an explanation of what would happen with such unrequited feelings. He’s silent again, an awkward and palpable tension as you can feel his confliction from here.

He finally manages a lame “you never know” that has you laughing, a brief reprieve before you dissolve into another coughing fit. It’s hardly something to worry about, but Dan Heng is by your side again, palm smoothing over your shoulder blades as you are wracked with coughs. You appreciate it nonetheless.

“What would happen if someone else confesses to you?” You shoot him a sideways glance, confusion written all over your features, urging him to elaborate. “What if you held no feelings for them, but they confessed to you all the same. Would that cure you?” He’s earnest now, hands scooping up your dirtied ones, clasping them in his grasp as he looked at you with stars in his eyes.

Your shrivelled heart begins to beat again.

“What- what do you mean?” Play dumb. Don’t mistake curiosity for what you desire most.

“What if I told you right here and now that I love you?” His eyes are searching yours, pleading with you for an answer that you’ve been screaming at him for so long. One that he does not have to search for, because it’s been laid there at his feet this whole time.

“I would tell you, Dan Heng, that such a confession is not unrequited.” You’re grinning now, the smile on your face growing wider and wider as you watch recognition flood his features.

And then he’s smiling too, laughing, holding you ever closer to him before he pulls away again, just to cup your face now. It’s only natural to close the distance between the two of you, lips touching his for a kiss that quickly becomes searing, welcoming a new season of heat into your body.

The thorns in your heart reside. Spring begins to bloom.

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... enjoy the silence

roommate!dan heng x reader

➤ alternatively, you can find my hsr masterlist here!

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

��See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

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[retromotherfuckers]

If You Win Or Lose

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), john winchester, sam and dean are only mentioned, will mciver (OC)

Summary:

after the death of the boy she loves, morgan runs away. but nothing lasts forever.

Warnings:

SPN typical alcohol abuse & violence, themes of mental illness, parental abuse, MAJOR gaslighting, character death. please let me know if i missed anything

Word Total:

2,425

A/N:

you don't need to read When The Sun Sets to understand this. this is a one shot within that universe, but it predates that series, and also the show itself

it is of my humble opinion that john was an abuser, even if the show refused to acknowledge that. this is essentially an insight into his and morgan's relationship

so yeah, this one ain't too happy. i don't think i'm capable of writing happy shit 💀

morgan may have fallen in love w a dude but our girl is not straight

italics are flashbacks or thoughts

dean: 19, morgan: 18, sam: 15

Four fingers of whiskey fill and drain over and over. In the shitty hotel bar, she sat up against the decaying oak wall in a flimsy chair. A hazy world surrounded her, everything moving in slow motion. The few other stragglers had no notion of what was brewing in her mind - the darkness that shrouded her eyes, making colors look muted in the small neighborhood. It seemed no one knew how much she depended on the amber liquid to keep things still.

Morgan had been around people all her life, but she'd never once felt a real kind of companionship with them. She knew her brothers cared because they had to; she knew they tried. She just wished that when they asked if life was okay, they'd somehow know her answer was bullshit. That they'd somehow cut off the lies spilling from her lips and just say that they know.

But Sammy was only fifteen. He wasn't old enough to really be able to tell, and if he could, she was the older sister. What she said was what he believed. And Dean was Dean. Not the best emotional support person.  

They never did catch it, and that was the point. As long as she said she was fine, they believe it because that's what they want to hear. They didn't want to know that she hadn't felt like her home was her home in years. Even if that home was the rumble of an engine and cassettes so loud, she couldn't hear herself think. 

They didn't know that she had done things only the lowest of the low would even think of just to keep moving. They don't want to know that the only reason she got out of bed was so she could ease the hangover from the night before. They didn't want to know how hard it was to ask when it was her turn for anything better than this and to keep getting ignored. They didn't want to know that her real reason for living was gone but that his dying wish was for her to keep going. 

"Just promise me you'll try."

They didn't want to know that sometimes she could hurt so bad that she stopped feeling anything at all. That she knew her heart was still beating, but her lungs had stopped pumping oxygen. That waiting for her eyes to stop feeling so heavy while she watched the world spin was worse than actually being a part of it. And even with all that frigid emptiness, there was a widening hole in her chest where a person used to be. And now that he was gone, the ceiling was about to cave in, and all she had left to hold it up was a little white bag and a bottle.

"Where the hell have you been?" The familiar voice broke her from her thoughts, the same that had been repeating for months, on and off, like a scratched record. She didn't have to look up to see who it was. She knew that voice. It's half of the voices that raised her, but not the one who deserved the credit.

She didn't acknowledge him, stuck staring at her drink. His voice made her shiver, and she was too much of a damn coward to face him. "Around."

"Really?" John said, his tone hardening with her one-word response. "'Cause to me, it looks like you ran away and went missing like a child. For. Two. Months."

She took a large gulp of her drink, almost downing the whole thing in one go. She had rehearsed this conversation countless times, waiting for the flash of civilian life to end and for him to find her. But now that it was happening, she felt like a fishing boat in a storm, tossed around by waves of fear and wrath.

Her father's gaze was oppressive, cold, and unyielding. Green eyes cut into her, making her feel like he was staring right through her. She always felt small around him. He had always known the right words to use to humiliate her.

"Let's go," He ordered, not even sitting down. It was like he knew this wasn't even a discussion to be had. She would obey, and that was the end of it. "The boys are waiting."

"Dad," Morgan began, her voice shaky and horse. "I'm not going back."

She could imagine John's lips curled into a sneer as his eyes bore into her. Daring her to defy him more. "You don't get a choice. You're coming. That's final."

Morgan felt a surge of anger. "Why can't you just let me be? I know what's good for me more than you do."

John stepped closer, his face inches from hers. "You belong with your family, not out here alone when we're not there to protect you. I taught you better than that."

It wasn’t praise. John Winchester wouldn’t know praise if it bit him in the ass. He did teach her better than that, and since she’s deliberately not following orders, she’s less than worthless.

She recoiled slightly, the familiar pang of anxiety twisting in her gut. "This isn't about family, dad, it's about-" She fumbled over her words, unsure if she could say it, but hoping for some surge of courage she hadn't had her whole life. "It's about how you can't stand that I'm walking around without you making my own decisions. You just wanna control me-"

John's hand lashed out, slapping the counter beside her, making her visibly flinch and effectively cutting her off. "After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? I don't need to control you; you need me to do it. To keep you alive," he sneered. "And the running away from your shit and pretending we don't exist just proves it."

Morgan's eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "Everything you've done," Her voice shook as she spoke. "You've done for yourself and your twisted little fantasy of finding the thing that killed Mom."

He grabbed her wrist, his grip like a vise. "Oh, yeah? And what do you think you can do to stop me?" She yanked her arm free, the skin already bruising. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of doubt. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his shadow enveloping her. "You're making a big mistake, Morgan. You'll regret this."

She took a deep breath, her resolve wavering. The sooner she got away, the better. "The only mistake I made was not getting out earlier."

As she turned to leave, John's hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and keeping her still. His voice was low and twisted with fury. The deep growl and the warmth of his breath in her ear made chills run up her spine.

"You think you can just walk away from me?"

Morgan's heart sank into her stomach. It wasn't a threat, but she could feel one coming. Her strength was slipping away, the familiar terror clawing at her mind. She'd never be able to hide from him for too long. Just look at her now, it had only been two months.

She was smart. But John was smarter.

"You're coming home, whether you like it or not." He took her stunned stillness as his queue to spin her around, forcing her chin up to look at him. She'd probably have marks on her jaw from how tight he was holding her. "You're really gonna leave us to fend for ourselves? You're so damn selfish-"

"I haven't been selfish a day in my fucking life-"

Her father scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Well, by your logic, you're picking the wrong time to start." He got closer if it was even possible, and he looked at her like she was the dirt he loved to walk over. "Will's dead, Mo, and it's your fault. I told you not to go on that hunt alone, but what did you fucking do? You ignored me, like always. When are you gonna learn that you need me? Boy-Toy's not coming back, you saw to that. Stop wasting everyone's time and get over it."

Boy-Toy. That's all John saw him as now. Even though he liked to call Will's parents the closest people he had to friends besides Uncle Bobby. 

Will had been with them for a year and a half when his parents died. They were helping him look for his aunt, the only family he had left. Only problem was they only knew her first name and that she was his mother's sister. So Will, Morgan and Sam searched for his aunt, while John and Dean searched for the demon.

For a while, things were okay. John was slightly more neutral when Will was around, starting fewer arguments and hitting them less. But when he walked in on them hooking up, Dean had to haul her father off of the boy. And then off of Morgan, too.

Two months ago, Morgan was desperate to prove herself to her father. Dean had already completed three solo hunts as a trial run. John wanted to see what he was capable of. Dean surpassed his expectations, as he always did. A rougarou, two vengeful spirits and a vampire taken care of in three weeks.

Will hadn't wanted to go on that hunt without help, but Morgan was frantic. She had to show her father what she was made of, but when Will discovered her plans, he was not going to let her do it alone. 

The air is thick with tension, each step bringing them closer to the lair of the wendigo they've been tracking for days. The forest is dense, moonlight barely piercing the thick canopy above. The silence of the night is broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

"Are you sure about this?" Will whispers, his voice barely audible.

Morgan turns to him, her blue eyes fierce and determined. "Yeah! We can do this, I swear."

They press on, the beam of their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Suddenly, a chilling growl echoes through the trees. Their hearts start racing as they tighten their grip on their chosen weapons. They're close.

The wendigo lunges out of the shadows, its eyes glowing with a malevolent type of starvation. Will fires his shotgun, but the creature is too fast. It knocks him to the ground, claws slashing through his shirt.

"Will!" Morgan screams, rushing to him. He struggles beneath the wendigo's weight, blood pooling from his wounds.

"Go!" He shouts, but his words are so garbled she hears her name, like a plea. "It's too strong!"

And Morgan can't leave him; he knows she would never. She swings her machete with all her strength, striking the creature's back. It howls in pain, momentarily distracted. Will uses the opportunity to push it off him, but the wendigo retaliates with a vicious swipe, its claws sinking deep into his chest.

"No!" Morgan drops to her knees beside Will as the wendigo retreats into the shadows. "No, no-"

Will's breathing is ragged, and he squeezes his eyes shut in distress. "Mo... I'm sorry..."

"Don't talk like that," she says, tears already streaming down her face. "You're gonna be okay, you'll be fine. We'll get you back to Dean. He'll know what to do."

Will reaches up, his hand trembling as he gently touches her cheek. His eyes are wet, too, but he quickly tries to hide the pain he's in. He graces her with a smile, but it's gone as fast as it appears. 

"Remember when Dean was giving me shit for how long my hair is?" He waits for her to nod. It doesn't take her so long to react because she doesn't remember. She takes a few extra seconds because she can't figure out why he's bringing that up right now. "You shut him up so fast," he says with a strained laugh. "You definitely liked me first."

Morgan chuckles through her tears, but the light memory doesn't last too long in her mind.

He's dying he's dying he's dying

"But I love you, Mo...please...remember that."

"Stop it. You don't get to say that as a goodbye," she demanded, but her voice didn't have the force to make it believable. "You're not allowed to tell me you love me and then die. It's not fair."

"I'll be okay," he rasps. "Just promise me you'll try. Promise me…" His voice fades from there. He has more he wants to say, Morgan can tell, but he used up all his strength.

"Will, please," She begs, her words cracking. "Don't-"

But Will's eyes flutter closed, his hand falls lifelessly to the ground, and Morgan screams.

She doesn't have it in her to set up a pyre. Will doesn't want that. He says it feels barbaric to him. He came from a hunting family and knew it was to prevent the possibility of becoming was a vengeful spirit, but he’s never wavered. He wants a real burial, like normal people have. He wants his family and friends there; they don't have to say anything, just be there.

"It just doesn't feel right, you know? We should be returned to the earth and all that crap. It's more…I don't know, peaceful."

Hours later, as dawn breaks, she buries him under an oak tree. She stands alone - yet another way she's letting him down. Her heart and mind are in tatters, her tears mingle with the soot. She can't face her family, not after what just happened. She can't bear her father’s inevitable punishment. Or her brothers’ pity. Or the possibility that they hate her for letting their friend die.

With one last look at the makeshift grave, Morgan turns and walks away, the shadows of the forest swallowing her whole. She doesn't know where she's going, only that she has to keep moving.

She looked into her father's eyes and saw the unyielding force of his will. In that moment, she knew she had lost.

Defeated, she lowered her gaze, closed her eyes and barely whispered, "Okay."

John's grip loosened slightly, a triumphant smile creeping across his face. Harder than necessary, he slapped her shoulder in appreciation. "Good girl. Now pack your shit. We're leaving in a half hour."

As Morgan turned towards the exit, she felt the weight of his victory settle over her like a cloak. The life she thought she might have wanted crumbled away, leaving only the cold, harsh reality of her father's world. She walked slowly, each step feeling like a surrender, her heart heavy with the knowledge that, for now, he had won.

[yikes-kachowski]

I NEED A BACKSTORY ON YOUR AU BUMI !!!

Sure dude! Just remember a few things about this before we start. It's an au, so none of it effects canon. I know this is gonna be a little brutal, but I like every atla character including aang and bumi. This is non kataang. Nothing against kataang, but I feel like this story couldn't work if it was. Keep an open mind, though. This could still be a fun little read.

Character death warning btw

We need to get a few aang details to understand bumi. First of all, air nomads are polyamorous (with women primarily having multiple male partners). Aang is also polyamorous in keeping with his culture. This to say, he gets a lot of partners. He tells them all about his sexuality first so they can completely be informed on having a relationship with him.

Aang works on a lot of things after the war but one of those things is rebuilding villages. That's where he meets kyoke

They fall for each other. Everything's great. He decides at 19ish to have baby with her. It's a little young, but he feels like he doesn't have much time and needs to have kids. At night he gets visions of his ancestors burning and begging for him to give them a chance to come back.

So he has bumi. And he loves him and brings him everywhere and excitedly tells his friends to watch for signs of bumi being an Airbender. They never come.

It's around when bumi is five that aang really starts to give up on bumi being a bender at all. No air nomad has ever had a nonbender before (as far as aang can tell, the records are hard to find now), so he is deeply ashamed. This puts strain on he and bumis relationship.

Now, kyoke loves bumi despite him being a nonbender, and loves aang despite him being around less and less. She knows she shares him with the world, she's okay with that. You know who isn't? Kyokes parents. She's unmarried, so they marry her off to Xohir. He's a nobleman who thought he could gain political clout with the avatar by raising his son.

Xohir is very disappointed that bumi is a nonbender. He thinks having an air bender would be more politically significant. Aang offers to help kyoke get a divorce, but she doesn't want to because she wants to respect her parents wishes.

Bumi sees this as abandonment.

Aang has three other kids. Yelaan, palkyi, and tenzin. They're all benders. Tenzins the air bender. Aang still has this feeling that he doesn't have much time so he's cramming all the knowledge he can into tenzin, which is time consuming. Bumi feels unloved because aang gets to teach the rest bending, but can't think of anything so personal to bond with bumi over.

Bumi bonds with Sokka. As a bitter teen he becomes an equalist. He keeps it secret since the equalist riots are intense, and benders really get offended by this.

Around this time, si Wong wants independence from the earth kingdom. Aang is doing peace talks to try to smooth things over.

The equalists assassinate aang, he is only 37-38ish years old.

Bumi tells tenzin that he was an equalist but he's not anymore. Yet he still feels guilty. Tenzin, who is only 15 years old, tells bumi that he hates him and asks for him to leave before he tells everyone else.

Bumi doesn't return to air temple island.

Things in si Wong boil over without peacetalks and aang. Because of their alliance with the earth kingdom, the United Republic must join.

Aang built a country with very little military presence (on purpose), but they need one for war. There is a draft. And bumi, unable to prove his religious exemption of being an air nomad, is drafted.

He will spend nearly 16 years in that war :)

[golvio]

It’s like…both Hylia and Rauru run into the Robot Problem, where they create/cultivate servants who end up achieving sentience (the Robots in SkSw and the Constructs in TotK) or were already sentient to begin with but were supposed to fit into this grand design to restore the order they’d created (the Sheikah, their respective Links and Zeldas). And it gets a little uncomfortable because both characters are so focused on imposing their respective ideas of order that they…don’t quite see their charges as people?

Hylia at least had the excuse that she was a primordial goddess of Light and Time and therefore had no frame of reference to emotionally connect with the mortals she was charged to protect. Her actions were ruthlessly pragmatic, but it made sense for a god totally alienated from humanity to think like that.

Meanwhile, Rauru has this sort of…naïve carelessness? He descended to earth, took the people living there as his subjects, and even fell in love with and married a mortal woman, but he never seemed to understand that his actions could have unintended and far-reaching effects on the people around him.

When confronted with how the Constructs continued to obey their orders instead of leaving to do other things, he couldn’t really muster up more than a sheepish, “Oops, my bad.” Granted, he was a ghost invisible to everyone but Link at the time, but, still, he never considered including a contingency plan in their programming to preserve themselves and do other things with their lives in the event of his own death.

And then there was him and Sonia positioning themselves as Zelda’s surrogate parents after she lost her original parents in traumatic circumstances related to the Sealing War’s aftereffects. Zelda, having to step up as Sonia’s replacement as his advisor and sole confidant to make sure he kept a level head after the queen died. Not stopping Mineru when she started talking about draconification because he was convinced it’d never come to that. Zelda effectively being primed to accept sacrificing herself a second time to preserve the order Rauru created whether he wanted that or not. And then him taking Link’s arm and replacing it without his permission while he was unconscious, because the Ultrahand is such a useful tool, why wouldn’t he be fine with a little limb graft?

Then there was the whole thing with Ganondorf. Just this catastrophic underestimation of human agency, intelligence, and capacity for cruelty. Zelda herself warned him about Ganon being more dangerous than he seemed, but Rauru waved her off (inadvertently recreating yet another Calamity-related trauma of Zelda’s). Ganondorf might be causing trouble, but in the end he was just like those other funny little mortals Rauru watched over. How could he possibly be able to understand something as divine and complicated as a Secret Stone? Only Sonia could do that, but Sonia was Special because she was so smart and wonderful and he loved her very much, so that didn’t count! Furthermore, how could he possibly come up with a plan that could blindside him and the queen? That would be silly!

(Also, note how he didn’t give any non-Sonia mortals stones until after Ganon proved any one of those funny little guys could master using one without any instruction from Rauru, lmao)

And then the circumstances of Rauru’s own death, and the consequences that had for everyone around him well after he’d faded to myth. Rauru assumed the “consequences” Ganondorf threatened him with were limited to giving up his own life, when what actually happened was that the people of Hyrule were left to deal with Ganon punishing them for Rauru’s hubris, poisoning the land again and again in rage at his imprisonment, while the people themselves had to figure out on their own how to beat back each wave of his bilious rage with no record or understanding of its source. Zelda being left with no guidance for how to return home, forced to make a drastic decision. Mineru, still alive, but unable to intervene was she was just a soul without a body.

Like…I don’t think he’s evil, much less malicious, but the way the story panned out reminded me a lot of the way Rose Quartz kept accidentally hurting the people who loved her because it didn’t come naturally to her to think of other people as equals, or to consider how her actions made them feel. She loved Pearl, but she didn’t acknowledge Pearl’s baggage from their former relationship as master and servant because she’d assumed they’d moved past that simply by never speaking of it anymore. She loved Greg, but she initially didn’t treat him like a real person. She tried as hard as she could to relate to others and understand them, but in the end she committed one last tragic act of thoughtlessness. She thought would be creating this special, wonderful person free of her flaws who would make the world so much better solely by existing and being himself (at least in part, I think, because she hated herself and thought everyone would be happier without her burdening them with her guilt and her selfish desire to run from her past)…only to leave everyone grappling with the emotional fallout of her no longer existing, including her son, who was stuck dealing with the legacy she’d left behind even though that was never her intention.

She didn’t actively try to sabotage her son’s life from beyond the grave. She didn’t think that the things she’d done would catch up to him, that her old family and enemies would treat him like an interchangeable replacement for her, or that her friends would treat him in strange ways out of grief at losing her. It just…never occurred to her.

But the thing is, I’m not sure if Rauru was intentionally written that way. If he was, the narrative wasn’t really interested in dwelling on the consequences of that, instead treating him and Sonia more like figureheads of this lost, idyllic past that the present must grieve and then strive to follow the example of, even if the present was suffering due to paying the debts of their ancestors’ carelessness.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 18

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein walks around the shop making sure everything is perfect. He still had about half an hour before he was opening but he wanted everything to be just right. It took him hours to organize the records and the aesthetic was just right. He could see the line forming outside and he paced. He jumped when there was a knock at the door.

"We're not open yet!" He yelled but this time the knocks were more abrupt.

"HEY FUCK OFF! WE'RE NOT OPEN YET!" He yelled but suddenly the door was opening.

"What the-" It was Y/n.

"You should keep that locked if you don't want people to come inside." He settled back onto the stool behind the counter.

"I didn't think you would come." Oystein said in shock. She walked towards the counter and placed flowers on top of it.

"I hadn't planned on it. Your parents asked me to drop this off as a favor. Looks like they didn't get the name change memo." She spun the flowers around so he could see the little card attached to it.

"I'm happy you came by. I wanted to show you-" She shook her head at him.

"Oystein...I'm not here for this. If your parents weren't so sweet, I wouldn't even have bothered ever coming through that door. Please don't make this into something it's not." She pleaded and he nodded.

"D-did you get my letter?" He asked. She let out a sigh.

"Yes I got your letter. My neighbor also let me know some gothic man was lurking outside of my house so next time try the phone book." She informed him. He was slightly embarassed that he was caught but she wasn't spewing hatred at him or trying to slap box him so he'll take that as a win.

"Also I don't need to educate myself on Black Metal. Your definition of it doesn't make it end all, be all. Music has a freedom to be whatever it wants to be so if I want to listen to this..." She picked up an album and held it up.

"Then it doesn't have to mean death and destruction." Oystein tried not to smirk at her as she held the album. He cleared his throat and she looked at the front of it seeing it was a Mayhem record.

"Oh for fucks sake." She put the record down in frustration.

"You know what the fuck I mean. I have empathy, I don't need flaunt suicide memorabilia to feel connected to something. I just feel it." She explained as Oystein came around the counter and walked towards her.

"You're right. I underestimated your knowledge of the genre. I apologize." She seemed surprised at his demeanor.

"Well...I also appreciate you being a man of your word and pissing off when I asked you. I'm moving on with my life and clearly so are you." She hadn't been standing this close to Oystein since she hit him. He nodded his head at her and picked the album back up holding it out to her.

"I don't need that." She put her hand up.

"Please...I just want you to-" She cut him off.

"I have one." She muttered. She looked anywhere but at him.

"You do?" He smiled. Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

"Yeah I do. Look I've got to go to work, Hammed wanted me to give this to you to welcome you into the neighborhood. Don't abuse it just because you're you and you know I'm the one who has to deliver it." Y/n watched Oystein smile as he opened it to see a discount card.

"Don't feel special, he gives them to all the surrounding businesses." She crossed her arms over her chest and Oystein nodded.

"Let him know I appreciate it. Thank you for coming by and bringing me the flowers. I'm glad you came even though I know its the last place you want to be." He said seeing her finally look at him. She couldn't help but stare for just a moment before shaking her head.

"Your mustache looks fucking ridiculous." She wasn't going to leave without insulting him and he waited for her to leave before letting out a laugh. No matter how today went, he found hope that someday they would at least be able to be in the same place at the same time without her hating him.

[lol-jackles]

The original Snow White is my all time fave Disney movie. I saw it in theater as a kid when they rereleased it. I hate when people who were born after 1985 take something made before the 21st century and apply a 21st century mindset to it. They talk like they want a Snow White who will make an impact as if she didn't make an impact in the original film. If you actually pay attention when watching the original movie you can see the impact that Snow White has on those around her.

I didn't realize how much I liked the OG Snow White until we got a VHS tape of a stage musical that was nearly scene to scene of the OG Snow White. I watched it over and over again with my younger cousins. It held us over until Disney finally released the original Snow White to VHS in 1994, when it broke records and sold 50 million copies worldwide. I ask again, why would current Disney think it's a swell idea to change Snow White so much in the live action remake?

Looking back I really liked how Snow White was mostly show not tell, which is the most important aspect of any movie. But a lot of movies nowadays are full of monologues of what a character needs to do and what's going on and how they're feeling instead of showing us and letting us discern for ourselves.

Snow White's value is timeless, that's why she's endured for so long because she resonates with people all over the political spectrum and why they badly reacted to Disney's remake of Snow White based on Rachel Zegler's words.  Snow White epitomizes values about hard work, not being entitled, and choosing a survivalist mentality instead of a victim "woe is me" mentality. Moreover, it is realistic to have hopes and dreams, but not at the expense of shirking your present responsibilities.  Her world was pulled out from under her and she lost everything she knew, but she got right back up.  Many adults have rent and bills to pay so they couldn't just wallow in their self pity and misery.  They have to go to work and carry on, just like Snow White did.

Snow White is relatable.  Many abuse victims grow up to be abusers at worst or assholes at best. Not their fault but still people like Snow white should be admired, she didn’t expect to receive refuge without earning a living. And Snow White helped the dwarves become better people, she even broke through Grumpy and won his affection.  The dwarves answered to NOBODY, and yet they had to answer to Snow White because they loved her, and then would kill for her by chasing the evil queen to her death.

Snow White is a great example of “the kindness you give to others comes back to you” i.e Snow White helps the baby blue bird find her parents, who then return with her parents to help Snow White. Often times the best indicator of strength isn't whether you reject your circumstances but how you choose to live with them.  Snow White (and Cinderella and Aurora) teaches lessons about emotional strength, optimism, and kindness. Not only are these important lessons, but they should be on par with the lessons that Mulan, Tiana, and Moana teach.   Kindness and optimism are just as important as bravery and leadership.

Femineity is not weak or bad, and masculinity isn't either.  Snow White was strong because she is feminine, not despite it. While it is important to show that women can have masculine traits, it is even more important to show that it is okay for women to have feminine traits.

Side note: The Disney renaissance in the '90s was shaped by a man for whom a large part of his identity was rejected by society, and he was unable to express it, which makes the Renaissance make sense for why there are so many stories about self discovery. But the older films were shaped by a man who had to work hard to keep his company afloat during extremely rough times (World War I and The Great Depression), so those stories featuring hard work and resilience make sense. Walt had said that Cinderella was his favorite heroine and the fairy godmother represented the "miracle" (through Snow White) that launch the company to success.

[parkhaein]

hi everyone o/ meet haein, your local flop loser very bad no good awful shitty superhero! he works as the bartender at the pool because he can't handle a real job and would rather spend his time rolling around on the ground than do something useful with his powers. i'll leave some actual info about him under the cut but like if you'd like to plot with him

so what's the deal with him? (parental death + emetophobia tw):

his mother was a kickass aeternal named gale who was super popular but she retired to give birth to him (a great shame, many would say). the public kind of hated his dad for it tbh

the moment his dad found out he inherited her powers, he made sure to raise him to be a proper superhero even though his mom wanted him to live a normal life instead

he was just a kid though so he was like of course i want to be a cool crime-fighting superhero!!!

and to his dad's credit, haein did get pretty damn good at controlling his powers, learning from watching old recordings of his mom at work

everything seemed to be going his way, strong powers, good reputation, pretty face, but everything went to shit the year before he was set to become an official aeternal

his mother passed away shielding citizens from an explosion. it was the perfect heroic death for someone like her, everyone said

haein hated that. why did she have to die for something like that? for people like that? someone as invincible and cool as her shouldn't have died at all

his father was devastated, and haein lost his sense of self as the deadline for his induction drew closer and closer

the day comes and he feels like throwing up- he does, actually. all over the floor as the onlookers pick up their jaws just to scream in terror as the villains fired at them. thankfully another aeternal had been with him and he managed to fight them off and save the civilians, but haein's reputation was stained forever

the son that the people's beloved aeternal gale had given up her career for was a fucking loser.

he's promptly removed from the group after that, and after over two years of hiding from the reporters, he seems to have faded into obscurity

his father has gone back to pestering him to not give up on being a hero, but just the thought of it makes him sick now. he joined the collective only to get his dad off his back, and has no intention of progressing this career at all. sucks to suck.

anyways now that you know him, what do you want from him?:

i want to be his friend / you better not recognize him from anything or he'll shut you out forever. you guys probably just chill and hang out together, and if you're cool, he'll even make you fly for a bit. for funsies

i want to be his enemy / you recognize him and refuse to leave him alone. for whatever evil reason, you will not let his past go and want to remind him of it over and over. he's a pretty easygoing guy, but just remember he can shoot air bullets at you

i kinda want him... / ok... good luck! he's pretty friendly and one could even say flirty, but you'll find he's very much closed off to the world once you try to dig deeper. he isn't against the idea of dating, but he'll never be the romantic he paints himself to be

been there done that / oh so you're an ex or ex-hookup-turned-feelings? sorry about him... i can just tell he was inattentive and secretive as hell. more worried about what's for dinner than any anniversaries coming up. you get one free punch on him before i call the cops

i want him to succeed / ....you want that guy as your hero..? are you sure? he starts shaking like a newborn deer the moment you put him in front of danger. that guy is not the one you want protecting your life!! .... you still here..? well your life your decisions! just don't expect him to cooperate

i just want him / talk to him then damn i'm not his (dead) mom!! *laugh track*

[yournaothings]

Hello, everyone. So, my Internet is down for the next several days. 😭 It sucks. But! I have a new story idea I've been playing with and finally wrote it out. I wanted to get it typed up so I don't forget all the things I wanted for it. Will it become a full blown story? Probably not. Maybe. We'll see.

A couple prayed to the gods to be saved. The god who answered their prayers made a deal; in exchange for their lives, their first born must be offered up to him.

"They will be the strongest mage the world will have seen in decades."

When their first child was born, their soul was indeed a strong one. Unfortunately, they didn't plan to keep their word and wanted to raise their child to beat the god and everyone would be free.

(((Trigger warning! Violence, death, and near rape. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN READING THIS!)))

(*Nova's cab driver is a bad man. He doesn't get to have his way thankfully. Still, please be careful when reading.)

-------->

My name is Nova, and I am the first born and am the only child out of four children who had to go through hard training ever since I could remember. I was separated from my siblings; I couldn't play with them, share the same bedroom as them. I couldn't eat with them. I was isolated from them. This includes the neighborhood children. The only ones I was ever around was my father and his fellow mages.

The training was difficult and the punishment for failing was just as bad. Being beaten or going to bed without a meal. It was awful. What was I training for? Magic. My parents claimed that I would be the greatest mage the world would have seen in decades. I couldn't fail my parents. I had to succeed and become so much strong than the mages who were alive today.

But, I didn't want that. I didn't want to be a mage. This was so stupid and pointless. Because when I get to the legal age, I'm going to leave. I will run away. Far, far away.

It wasn't fair how I was the only one to train. My siblings were normal. They didn't have to train, they didn't have anything special about them- why did I have to be the special one? It's so stupid!

I just wanted to have a normal childhood like my siblings. I wanted to play with them. Go exploring with them. I wanted to enjoy a normal, fun birthday party. My siblings always went to them, always going over to their friends houses to play and celebrate birthdays. To go to school and struggle over math or science.

Why... Why am I different? Why did I have to be special? I don't want to be special anymore. Please, whoever looks over us. Whoever answers our prayers. Please, I don't want this anymore. I want to be normal.

/

My 18th birthday is tomorrow. I'm going to do it. Tonight, I'm going to run away. I've made up my mind. I've packed what I need to leave, and I've made sure the exit would be easy for me to use. My parents and siblings have no idea of my plans. I should be far away by the time they come to check on me. I'm not staying any longer.

I can't relax. Not until I'm far away and safe. My plan needs to succeed. It has to. For my sanity.

----

The alarm was disabled that night. Nova ran off into the night, thinking they slipped away without being noticed.

The cameras were on, recording their escape, and sitting before the monitors was their mother.

Her watery smile widened as she watched her child disappear into the darkness. Finally, she prayed they would be safer out there. Away from the family who kept them locked away and forced them to become a strong mage.

She knew they didn't like it and didn't understand why they forced such harsh training on them. No one wanted to explain. Both parents were fearful of letting their oldest know the truth.

It was their fault that their first born was in so much danger. They made a terrible mistake and it cost them their first born. Their other children were safe. They had no qualities of magic within their souls, so they would be okay.

Nova was not safe.

Just as that god-like being said, their first born would be a strong mage. At the age of 18, the god would be back to take their child away for their selfish desires.

All because they made the mistake of making that deal with the creature in exchange for their lives. Once they found out they were expecting, they planned everything out. Built a training room underground with a bedroom where they would lock their child away.

They knew it was awful, but it was for their child's safety. Her husband gathered the local mages and trained Nova, making sure they were strong enough for whatever was to come.

"Stars, please guide Nova. Protect them, please." The mother prayed, crying both in relief and sadness. She cried from the pain of not being the proper mother to her first born. She loved Nova with all of her heart, but they'd never know... But, this was done for their safety.

"Run far away, Nova. Don't let him catch you."

"Why am I not surprised."

The mother gasped and turned in her seat to look at the intruder. The dark of the room hid him well, the only thing she could see was his cruel cyan eye light and wide, toothy grin.

"N-Nightmare!" She stuttered, and slowly stood on her shaky legs. "The deal is off. You are not taking my child."

Nightmare's grin widened, his eye narrowing. "How amusing. You actually believe you have authority over what I can and can't have."

Behind him, she could faintly see his tentacles moving around, almost like how a cat's tail would when irritated. She knew what he could do. (She knew there would be no surviving this encounter, as well.) "You won't find them. They've gone far away."

Nightmare barked out a cruel laugh. "I know exactly where they are. You and your husband have only helped me in the end. I will take them and they will be mine to command. Their magic is strong, I can sense it from here." He paused as he let his grin widen into a cruel smirk. He could feel the dread within this woman. "They hate you. They're angry for being treated like a caged dog. You have only isolated them and made them hate you. It's almost too easy. They have no knowledge of who I am because you did not tell them about me. All I have to do is promise a life of freedom and they'll come. You have stopped nothing."

Another mistake. Another mess up they created that would keep Nova from having a life of freedom. "I-I won't let you take them!" She cried out and in a moment of weakness, she grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on; a pen, and she charged at him.

She never made it close enough. A tentacle, sharpened at the end, pierces through her chest. He held her there for only a moment before tossing her dying body to the side, then turned to find the rest of the foolish family.

The deal was off? Fine. He didn't have to hold up his side of the deal- not that he planned on it at the beginning. The moment the first born was 18, he was planning on killing the entire family.

It was so easy. Each and every child, awake and trying to hide from him were killed swiftly by his tentacles. The father was with the other mages, easy. All of them were weak and quickly died by his tentacles. Disgusting.

Now, it was time to find his prize.

---

Nova was sitting on the bench, waiting for their cab. They began to fidget, feeling a sense of dread falling over them. As if something bad was chasing them and they needed to move.

Something wicked this way comes.

But, that can't be. They were careful when leaving, making sure they weren't seen by anyone. So, why were they feeling like this?

After building up the courage, Nova glanced over their shoulder to see if anyone was behind them, or around them. No one was there- and anyone who was, they were walking down the street, minding their own business.

They sighed, but their body did not relax. Something didn't feel right and they just wanted out of here. It took them too long to figure out how to call for a cab; they didn't know what to do when it came to paying the driver. They had no money-

The cab pulled up in front of them, pulling Nova from their thoughts. The driver rolled down the window and asked, "You Nova?" They nodded, "Y-Yes. That's me." The driver nodded and gestures for Nova to hop into the back. "Climb on in, dear." Nova exhaled slowly and stood up. They got their breathing under control, trying to relax.

Everything is going to okay, Nova.

They got into the back of the cab and told the driver where they wanted to go- "I want to go as far away as you can take me."

The driver sputtered, even laughed at the ridiculous request, but he shrugged and put the car in drive. He looked at Nova from the rearview mirror and grinned. "Whatever you say, sweet cheeks."

The car started down the street, Nova exhaled softly and glanced out the window. They watched as they made their way through the city, it wasn't until the larger buildings were behind them that the driver spoke up again, trying to make pleasant conversation.

"So, you're running away, eh?" Nova turned their alert and fearful gaze to him. "H-How did you know?!" The driver laughed. "Calm down, I'm not going to take you back to wherever you're running from. It happens all the time. Let me guess... Your home life here in the city was a prison, so you're running away?" Nova's silence and worried look seemed to be answer enough. "Mhm, that's what I thought. No worries, sweetheart. I've been helping many folks escape the city for a long time. I get it. This place sucks ass. I'll get you out of here."

"Thank you." Came their reply, soft and almost too quiet. Thankfully, he didn't have the radio on so he was able to catch it. "No worries. Normally, I would request a decent amount of payment, but for you? I'm sure we can figure something out. After all, you don't have any money on you, right?"

Nova froze and they stared at the driver with a nervous look. He laughed once again, not helping calm Nova in the slightest. "I knew it! Like I said, don't worry about it! We'll figure it out once I get you out of the city. I want to help, remember?"

Now, Nova didn't have any knowledge of this. They never got the chance to explore the city and learn what to watch out for. However, thanks to how strong their soul pulsed within them, they knew this wasn't a good person. They started to feel nauseous. "I-I want to get out here." They said slowly, and began reaching for the car door knob. The driver laughed when Nova found that they couldn't open the door, even with the door unlocked.

"Sorry, love. Child's lock is on." The driver mocked them. "Why are you wanting to leave? We're not out of the city yet!" Nova felt themselves panic. "L-Let me out, now!" They raised their panicked voice and continued to yank on the door knob. The driver continued down the street, speeding up as they neared the end of the city limits. Nova missed the way the driver smirked sickeningly at them through the rearview mirror.

They were panicked, but suddenly thought to use their magic- their father said they could use their magic when in a difficult situation. As much as they didn't want to use their magic in fear of being caught, they needed to get out of this situation. To get away from this terrible man.

Abandoning their attempt at opening the door, they reached deep within them and tried to calmly breath. (It made them sick knowing that they were going through the steps the mages and their father had taught them.) The magic flower through their body and to their hands and finger tips. Willing the magic to do as they said, the magic slipped through their hands and into the car, seeking out the mechanics of the car and put a halt to the engine, to the wheels. The car came to a jarring halt, jerking both occupants in the car, the seatbelts the only reason either of them didn't get ejected.

Nova groaned in pain, but as soon as they recovered, they tried the door again. When that didn't work, they went for the window. Pressing their palm against the glass, Nova sent a powerful blast through their hand and shattered the glass. They gasped and jerked back when the shattered glass flew at them and cut their face and arm. Nova reached out of the now broken window and opened the door. They moved to jump out of the car, only to get caught up in the seatbelt. A quick shout of panic, Nova fumbled with the seatbelt and freed themselves from the seat and took off.

They didn't get far when the driver tackled them, having recovered quicker than Nova thought he would. He struggled with them and rolled them onto their stomach, sitting on their back to keep them from moving. "You're a fucking mage?! Holy shit! There is no way I'm getting rid of you! I can get a lot of fucking money for turning you in!" He laughed. "But first, I think I'll have some fun with you first."

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Nova struggled, kicked, and thrashed! They moved their hands to press into the dirt and with another surge of magic, they were able to roll away, knocking the driver off of them. They scrambled to their feet and started running once again. They couldn't keep getting caught, they could feel their body getting tired. Soon, they won't be able to fight back again.

There was no use in calling for help, no one would make it to them in time. With a sudden burst of determination, Nova stopped and turned around in time to catch the man by his arm. It startled him, and gave them enough time to use their magic to rip away his arm. The man stumbled back, screaming in pain and his other hand reached up to cup where his arm used to be.

Trembling and crying out in fright, Nova dropped the now severed arm and backed away, only to turn and vomit from the gruesome sight before them. It was disgusting and a part of them felt awful for doing such a thing- but he tried to hurt them! They wiped at their mouth and turn to look at the man, their head beginning to ache and their body feeling weaker. The man gripped their arm stub and glared at Nova with such a hateful look.

"You bitch!" He growled and reached his arm out to them, ready to pay them back. His animalistic growling frightened them and they tried to run, but they tripped and fell. Fuck, fuck!

The man snarled and called them such awful names as he moved to hover over them. "I'm going to break you, then I will hand you over to the others. You fucking owe me a new arm, you bitch!"

He yelled and as he lunged for them, Nova watched in what they thought was slow motion, a strange sharp object piercing through his stomach. He grunted in pain, pausing as his body tensed. Blood leaked from his mouth and he choked on it. Slowly, he glanced down to see the sharp object begin to wiggle, before it lifted him high into the air and it tossed him aside. His body landed to the ground with a sickening crack of his bones, he had to be dead now.

Fearfully, Nova turned their attention towards the one who saved them. The one who killed that awful man- their eyes widened in fear, and everything within them cried for them to run.

"There is no need to fear me, child."

"W-Who are you? What are you?!"

"My name is Nightmare, I am the god of Negativity. I have waited a long time for you, child."

What?

Seeing the confused look on their face, Nightmare grinned. "You were destined to be mine, child. Your parents thought they could keep you from me, even going as far as to lock you away your whole life."

Nova let that sink in and they looked on with shock and understanding. No way. "Is that true? Why would they do that?" They paused a moment then looked at him angrily. "I didn't escape one prison to go back into another one! Fuck that!"

Nightmare laughed. "You will not be a prisoner, my dear. I will ensure your freedom. No longer will you be isolated or abused."

They studied him, trying hard to decide if this... Deity was telling the truth. "How do I know you won't bring me back to my family?" His grin lifted into a cruel smirk then, and it made Nova sick, wishing they didn't ask-

"Your family is dead."

Everything around them stopped, even their heart skipped a beat. They should have been sad. They should have been running the other way. But... They didn't love their parents. Not after all the abuse they were put through.

Nightmare was patient as he watched Nova think this through. (This is too easy.) Nova glanced away from him to the lifeless body several feet away from them. He did that too. He saved them. Not just from that man, but he gave them true freedom from their family. They were free- there was no fear of being caught by them.

They turned back to Nightmare and slowly stood up on shaky legs. "Do you promise my freedom?"

"I promise." They fell silent, thoughts rushing through their mind. "When you say you killed my family-"

"They're all dead. Even the little ones." Seeing the pain and heartbreak in their eyes, Nightmare continues. "It was a mercy killing. Without anyone to care for them, they would be orphans. That is a terrible life for children their age."

Well, when he put it like that... Fuck, it still didn't sit right with them. "If it helps you feel better, they died in their sleep. They did not suffer." It seemed like the right thing to say. Nova relaxed a little, and with an exhausted sigh, Nova finally stepped closer. "You better not be lying to me. I'll blast you to pieces." They warned him, and while Nightmare was amused by the warning, he nodded and reached his hand out for them to take. "Noted."

With heavy footsteps, Nova walked closer and took the deity's hand and as soon as he wrapped them in his tentacles, the exhaustion hit them. They fell limp in his hold, and couldn't keep themselves awake as Nightmare opened his portal to take them "home".

---

The infirmary was prepared just as he asked. Cross was in the room, finishing up when Nightmare stepped through the portal. The human was laid on top of the bed.

"Are they okay?" Cross asked as he neared the side of the bed. "They will be fine. They used their magic and tired themselves out." Cross gave a thoughtful look; "Another human was attempting harm in them and they fought back. They are quite strong." Nightmare explained with a satisfied grin. "The fools isolated them and failed to tell them about our little deal. It was so easy to obtain them."

"I'm surprised, was that part of the deal?" Cross asked. "No. The parents were wanting to train them up to fight against me. Yet, they didn't warn them of me and even let them run away. When morning comes, they will be 18." Nightmare explained. "Check them over, heal any injuries. I will speak with Horror. A nice warm meal and birthday cake will help ease them into the home."

"As long as Killer doesn't do anything stupid." Cross commented with a roll of his eye lights. Nightmare agreed and turned to leave. He would have to speak with Killer as well.

Catching the three other skeletons in the living room, Nightmare began to explain everything. Horror was happy to be able to make something special, he knew exactly what to make! Dust shrugged at being told not to hurt the human. As for Killer...

"You brought a human home? Are they a pet? Does that mean I can keep my cat?"

Nightmare glared at him. "No. They are not a pet. They are part of the team now. They're a mage, a strong one at that. I expect you to keep them safe and not to harm them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, yeah. Loud and clear, boss. No harming the human. Got it." Killer said with a wave of his hand. Nightmare sighed, knowing Killer would cause some kind of chaos with the human. He can already feel a headache beginning. "Cross is tending to them now. Do not mess with him."

"I got it, boss. No messing with the human or Crossy." Killer grumbled, almost disappointed. Nightmare narrowed his eye socket at the troublesome skeleton, he just knew Killer would find a way to go against Nightmare's commands.

With another sigh, Nightmare turned away and started for his study. Now it was time to begin making preparations for upcoming missions...

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 177

Chapter 177: "Mother"

This chapter.. this damn chapter never fails at getting me emotional. I'm still so very upset that Isabella dies this way too when we had other characters such as Emma and Barbara also get impaled by fierce demons and survive with their scars, so why not my queen huh?? I know there's that whole neverland fairy tale idea where adults aren't allowed there, which would've been an interesting concept for our series given the several adult deaths we had already, but that would've cancelled out some of the oldest Goldy Pond kids who are already older than 18 at this point. However, with how Emma phrased the new promise to allow all humans raised as food to cross over into the human world, there wouldn't have been any issue. Isabella could've easily joined them then, like c'mon Shirai, couldn't ya at least let these kids have one parent join them, please? They already lost Yuugo and Lucas, we didn't need to add another!

As if stabbing this woman wasn't enough, this bastard goes on to taunt her, saying that she'll never make up for her past mistakes no matter how hard she tries. First off, to hell with this guy. Secondly, that's such nonsense. I know this moment is supposed to be seen as "Isabella's big redemption moment," but it totally didn't need to happen this way. I'm gonna sound like a broken record when I say this, but this woman's redemption arc started way back when she first admitted defeat on the wall while watching her precious children escape GF. From gathering the ropes they used so the demons wouldn't know which direction they ran, to secretly planning an entire uprising within the farm system in hopes to one day assist her children when they returned. She even used her newfound power as Grandma to help spare the lives of other children at GF by lowering the amount of harvests that took place. Granted, walking the children to their deaths as caretaker and her treatment of Ray are certainly her biggest flaws that can definitely outweigh all the good she's done during those several years as a mother, but again, it's not like she truly wanted to act that way! It was her job; a job she only took because she valued her own life so much (& honestly, I would too), but she excelled at it for their sake. She's renowned for being the best for providing such high quality meat to the farm (which sounds bad when ya think of them as food, I know), but it means her children were raised with such rich emotions and were able to reach a reasonable decent age because they knew what happiness and love felt like and she did everything within her power to keep them alive as long as they possibly could. So to hear this demon make a statement like this just irks me because while it's true this one mama bear moment may not be enough for Isabella to be redeemed fully, it completely disregards every other motherly act she's done for her children over the years.

Literally the only positive I can take away from this highly unfortunate demon encounter is how damn strong and determined Isabella is. The fire in her eyes and the intense grip she has on this demon that straight up prevents it from moving to hurt Emma or the other girl.. aahh it's such a badass moment! What a queen!

Every single time I come across these panels, all I hear in my head is that Mushu quote: "You missed! How could you miss? He was three feet in front of you!" Seriously though, I can understand with how quick everything happened and the intense new threat could've caused Ray's aim to be off a little, but my boy, this could not have been a more worse occasion to miss. I don't wanna say it because it'll be so mean but s2!Ray could've done better.

Bro I remember so very clearly when a couple panels of this chapters were first teased before the official release (& yeah I was a complete mess back then too), but when this panel was going around, it was cropped short to where Ray wasn't seen at all, so people were going nuts about where he was, why wasn't he also surrounding Isabella, if his hatred for her really went so deep to not wanna be near her while she's at death's door, etc. It was kinda wild and absolutely made me anxious, but thankfully the panic was short lived when the full page was available. Sorta. I mean, it's still not a pretty panel, seeing my favorite villain minutes away from losing her life, but at least Ray is present along with all the other GF kids.

Seeing Isabella being more concerned about everyone else aside from herself after a serious stab wound.. what a bittersweet "like mother, like daughter" parallel.

Crazy how Krone's actions and words lead the kids to believe Isabella's intentions were just as heartless. Yeah both ladies wanted to survive and would choose to achieve that by any means necessary, but at least Isabella cared for the well-being of her children. That's already a whole lot more than what your typical mom or sister is capable of.

Having this panel placed in the middle of all the heartbreak is very much appreciated because I definitely need some adorable flashbacks to make me feel a little better before diving right back into my puddle of tears. Seeing her smile and laugh alongside the trio is the most adorable thing, especially that head pat she gives Emma. Also love that reference to ch95's extra page where Gilda was working so hard at the shelter that a sleepy Chris mistakenly called her "mom." Oh, my poor boy Chris.. he's gonna have so many things to catch up on once he wakes up and learning about Isabella's death ain't gonna be easy.

Say it louder, sweetie!!! And most definitely repeating myself once more by saying that I'm so glad the second season animated that panel of Isabella hugging the trio despite this chapter's events not happening.

I love this idea of Isabella & Yuugo being the "what if" versions of the kids. Isabella's situation could easily be applied to any of the girls, though most people associate it with Emma which is fair, just as we usually make the connection of Yuugo to Ray due to them both witnessing their family getting killed and all that time they spent alone, whether it be physically, mentally or emotionally. All three honestly.

Seeing all the children beg Isabella to hold on, along with them confessing how much they love her.. oh my goodness, I think so often how thankful I am that this scene wasn't included in the anime because seeing the pain on their faces is hard enough already, imagine how loudly I would sob if I heard the emotion in all their voices.

Oh, if any version of her lullaby played here, my heart would shatter. I already feel close to tears. She probably dreamed of hugging all her precious children and openly declaring her love for them once more without any fear of what the farm system might do to her and/or them, and now that Isabella finally gets that chance, she has such a thankful smile on her face and I'm happy she gets to experience these warm feelings one last time.

I dunno about anyone else, but this chapter always feels like a "try not to cry challenge, level: impossible" for me. Doesn't matter if they added in this cute scene of her hugging the trio with such a beautiful smile, my heart is still in pieces on the ground. I'm the one who needs the hug!

Favorite panel/moment:

If you haven't learned how much I love Isabella, Ray and their complicated mother-son relationship yet, then I haven't rambled on long enough. But yes, as much as her death absolutely wrecks me, I'm relieved it allows us to get one final interaction between her and Ray. By now we have a pretty good grasp about Ray's feelings towards Isabella, so the fact he kept his distance this entire time until she called out for him is so sad. We can't really tell if he rushes to her side or if he takes slow steps, but what matters is that he didn't deny her request.

It means so much that this moment is just between the two of them too. Sure it was undeniable sweet to see all the children cry and huddle around Isabella, but she and Ray have such a deep history so they deserve one last scene together. Although it's a very fragile relationship, that doesn't prevent her from giving him a personal apology with the very last bit of strength she has. Aahh, how terrible she must be feeling right now, thinking back on all the times she wasn't allowed to show him the same level of affection as a mother would normally show her son or for making his life such a living hell. She could've very well chosen to be angry at herself here or let the pain show on her face, and yet she chooses to smile instead. Not a smug or confident one Ray's probably used to seeing her use, but a gentle one that really conveys how strong her regrets are.

Having her last wish being for Ray to protect everyone is so perfect with how it shows that right til the very end, Isabella's children have always been her top priority and she'll always think of them first. It's also sweet that she wants Ray to hold onto this promise because us readers already know how committed Ray is to providing for his family and keeping them safe. Hell, his compassion and protective instincts were on full display last chapter when he jumped in to shoot at that demon bastard and when he accepted all the moms and sisters to join the kids in the human world back during ch164. Those were such great opportunities for Isabella to witness just how caring her son really is and how much he's grown. I'm certain she's so proud of him. To this day I still wish Isabella had actually spoke that "I love you so much" to him, but I know she was steadily growing weaker by the minute that even speaking or seeing clearly was becoming a challenge for her. The nice thing with Isabella though, is that she doesn't really need to say such words out loud for Ray or any other child to know how true her feelings are, as Emma confirmed earlier during her moment of reflection, that Isabella's actions speak far louder to the point where everyone was able to recognize how strongly she loved them all. What completely breaks me about this entire chapter though is seeing Ray finally breakout into tears as he holds onto his mother's hand. This boy just found out his mother was alive, along with becoming their enemy once more, saw her betray their common enemy in order to assist the children, which sparks his discussion to forgive her and wish for her to join him in the human world, only to realize that won't happen as she jumps in to protect one of his best friends and ends up critically injured all because he failed to killing a demon. That is so much to experience all in one day. It's a miracle he kept his emotions in check to begin with, but now he's hit with the realization that he's losing his mother for good and.. damn it 'yall. Can we please give my boy a break?? And my queen too while we're at it?? Both of them seriously had two of the worst experiences in this world and instead of having them reconcile and build a better mother-son relationship in the human world together, we gotta make them suffer once last time, huh?? Fucking hell man.. I said it way more than once and I'll say it a million more times up until I'm on my own death bed, but the decision of having Isabella stay alive is by far the absolute best thing to come out of season two.

I want to wish their moment was lasted longer than a page and a third, but I'd probably never recover from all the emotional damage if their tearful goodbye had more focus. AAhhh.. seems like I should've wrote out a lot more considering the amount of time I spent on this chapter and how passionate I get about my favorites, but ya know, the emotions are hella strong today.

[unladielike]

After watching Act II of NiER: Reincarnation, I can't stop thinking of an AU where instead of Yuzuki and Hina, it's Vivian and @spiritpyro's Hayate who were both transported from their universes (Chiba, Japan) to the Cage. Of course, Vivian would be tasked with fixing the sun while Hayate would be tasked with fixing the moon, but due to the fact their timeline follows the private verse (aka Vivian losing her memories before becoming neighbours with Hayate) and their revolving theme is 'not quite lovers, yet not quite friends', I feel like the companions assigned to them would be different while the characters unlocked would still remain the same (meaning they will all get to witness Yudil, Sarafa, Saryu, Marie, Priyet, and Yurie's memories).

Whereas Hina had Papa as her guide, I headcanon Vivian's companion would be called 'Gent' and he'll have this particular design, which I badly edited to have a dapper feel to it. As her guide, he would take on the role of what an ideal boyfriend and perfect gentleman should be like (and because Carrier had canonically once ranted about his wife being a nag/having elderly parents that need care, I can see Gent going as far as to claim he works as a rental boyfriend on the side), so I can see him calling her 'darling' and 'Ms. Vivian'. I also have this idea he'll hold onto Jude (the crocheted butterfly she always carries with her) for Vivian every time she needs to enter a Dark Scarecrow, which are these black statues in NiER: Reincarnation that blocks the player's path and contains memories of characters' backstories. Furthermore, Gent would have taken her hand with one of his weird black arms and lifted it to where his mouth should be after he first introduces himself to Vivian, but considering he looks like a ghostly apparition, she finds it hard to really take him or his suave remarks all that seriously most of the time.

As for Hayate, his companion wouldn't be Mama/Babe the same it way had been with Yuzuki, but a pink one called 'Lady' that I headcanon would have this appearance. As his guide, she's supposed to take on the role of what a kind, caring girlfriend should be like and similarly to Gent, would mention to Hayate she works as a rental girlfriend on the side. While Gent uses 'darling' with Vivian, however, Lady prefers 'honey' as her go to term of endearment for Hayate. She'll also offer him massages/pats on the head and remind him to not push himself too much and that it's fine to take breaks if he's tired from traversing the Cage.

Anyways, in true Yoko Taro fashion, Vivian would end up seeing a memory of her huge falling out with Hayate that led to her eventual suicide attempt at some point, which would understandably break her all over again... yet thanks to Gent calming her down/preventing her from ripping apart Jude, she would somehow have enough strength to keep going. Then somewhere along the way, it's later revealed from her point of view that Hayate one day started dating someone else (that's definitely not Hideaki), and to make matters worse, this person was a scumbag. Not only did they secretly record them having sex without his permission just to taunt her and rub further salt in her wound, they also hurled ableist slurs at Vivian whenever Hayate wasn't around, to the point where months later, she ended up snapping and killing them instead of asking Hayate to just dump them.

And Hayate, upon not knowing this, would angrily lash out at Vivian, which resulted in him accidentally killing her before learning what had truly happened... yet because he still cared about her, knowing he was responsible for her death would cause him great anguish at the same time. Regardless, it would seem she killed his lover out of jealousy from his point of view, which is meant to make the player sympathize more with Hayate if they're playing as him and not Vivian. Anyways, they both became isekai-ed to the Cage afterwards (or in Vivian's case, reincarnated within the Cage), where they were each promised a wish by Gent/Lady if they ended up acquiring the necessary Fragments to fix the broken Sun and Moon.

Honestly, though, I feel like Vivian would wish she had never fallen in love with Hayate due to all the suffering he caused her while Hayate would wish he had never been an asshole to her; however, compared to Vivian, who would be angry enough at him to throw hands and yell at him that he pretty much ruined her life, I feel like Hayate would just want to talk/de-escalate things.

...In fact, he'd pretty much be the only one who would actually not want to to kill Vivian to fulfill his wish, so the options would be A) Vivian should get her revenge, B) Vivian and Hayate shouldn't fight, or C) Vivian and Hayate should talk things out (which can only be unlocked after completing one of the prior endings). Unlike with Yuzuki and Hina, though, there does exist a reality where they're happy together, so instead of staying in the Cage, I could see them having an actual heart to heart during Ending B and wish that in another life, they could have stayed true to themselves back then... causing them to be transported to another reality, where they became girlfriend/boyfriend.

Meanwhile, in Ending C, Vivian would acknowledge she's still in love with Hayate but would no longer desire a romantic relationship with him due to trauma... and since wishing for a different reality would be the same as running away from the sins they committed, they decide to live out the rest of their lives in the Cage together. Honestly, I wanna say that since Hayate is immortal, the only reason Vivian would be able to kill him in Ending A is because she has the power of the Sol Fragments on her side.

But anyways, I definitely think one of Vivian's stories would revolve around her ex-girlfriend, Esmé, but I'll never add a proper NiER: Reincarnation AU to her verses page (despite having self-indulgently designed Companions for her and Hayate) because I doubt people have actually played the gacha let alone heard of it (especially after it was announced the game will be ending it's service) and as far as I could tell, nobody on tumblr roleplays characters from NiER: Reincarnation... so it shall forever remain a brainrot AU of mine.

[katalinhunter]

Sally

Years ago on the First

It was a small camp set on the edge of the Empty. Overhead the sky blazed white, giving no sense of day or night. A frozen wave reached out towards them, threatening to swallow their camp, to swallow the very land. It had been poised for almost a century now, hanging there in glistening menace.

Jovana and one of the other researchers were talking softly, watching over the camp while looking the latest readings. The others of the team were exploring a cragged path that appeared to offer a path beyond and onto the stretch of emptiness beyond.

"Aren't you worried about being out here?" Her companion had asked as they took a break from poring over bleak records. "You have a daughter don't you? What would happen if something happened to you here?"

The ronso shrugged lightly, starting into her coffee for a moment before answering. "Verboten would still be there and he would take care of things. It would be hard but he's a wonderful father, full of love."

"This all seems pointless though. We come out here, look around, nothing ever changes. Even if they do find a way past this we both know what we'll find on the far side. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, until sin eaters happen by and give us a merciful death."

"Why are you out here then?"

"Because there's nothing left! My family's dead, my home's gone, what else is there to do? Go out to Eulmore and drink and dine waiting for the world to die? I'd rather be doing something that at least pretends to be useful!"

"Why can't it be the same for-"

"Because you have a family! You have someone to go home, a little girl to raise. Why would you give that up to come out here?"

Jovana looked over her mug to the woman, watching the frustrated anger slowly fade away. "First, this trip is only for a sennight at most. More imoprtantly though, I need to come out here for Coto, Verboten, my parents, but mostly for Coto. I want her to grow up in a proper world, beneath a night sky, this damned wave finally receding. I will fight for her, for them to have that back."

A sigh escaped as she set her coffee mug back down. "Someday we'll see an anomaly, we'll find a break in this wall, something small that we can exploit and use. Right now we prepare for that fight, for that chance, by going over the rest of these numbers. Come on, let's see if we can finish them before the others get back."

[iheartpeppino]

I'm a little nervous about posting this next character profile for the Pizza My Heart AU... because there is quite a bit of dark subject matter in it. This next profile focuses on Giovanni Monotoli.

WARNING: The following profile contains mentions of child death, spousal abuse, murder, and child abuse. Read at your own risk.

Giovanni Matzahfeld-Monotoli:

Our secondary antagonist. Melissa Monotoli's father, Giovanni is the richest and most dangerous man in the town where Peppino lives. Born under the name Joey Matzahfeld, he renamed himself after marrying his current wife, Gilda Monotoli. Giovanni was originally a blue collar worker from New York City who happened to get lucky playing the stock market and making business investments. Back then, he loved investing in small businesses because he got to watch them grow. After marrying Gilda, he met her brother, the infamous Geldegarde Monotoli, and even got a peek at his Mani Mani statue... an event that forever changed Giovanni. The Mani Mani statue awakened the evils in Giovanni's heart, and his formerly kind persona evaporated like water in the desert.

Since then, Giovanni became obsessed with wealth and power, flaunting it every chance he got and becoming incredibly narcissistic. He no longer invested in small businesses, calling every small business owner he met “a small fry” he was too good to deal with. He softened up temporarily when Gilda gave birth to twin girls, Melissa and Lena Monotoli. However, when Lena tragically passed away from SIDS, Giovanni's dark side took over once more. He angrily blamed Gilda for Lena's death. Gilda was FURIOUS, threatening to divorce Giovanni and take all his money. However, Giovanni threatened her back, saying if she tried that, he would make their divorce court case a media circus, and her life a living hell. So, Gilda stayed married to a man she hated, avoiding him as much as humanly possible.

Giovanni was particularly devastated by Lena's death because, in order to have his daughters, he had to turn to Pizzamancer for help at the time, as he had fertility issues, and nothing else was working. Pizzamancer made a fertility pizza for Giovanni to eat, and that's how Giovanni was able to get Gilda pregnant. Knowing he almost had two beautiful baby daughters, only to lose one, devastated him. After that tragedy, Giovanni refers to Melissa as his “most valuable treasure”. Despite this, he was not a good father to Melissa. Because Melissa was a bit spoiled by her mother as a child, she was often very defiant towards Giovanni. Giovanni would respond by disciplining Melissa... but he always went too far, yelling and screaming at her, cursing at her, and even hitting her. The worst part is that he kept this hidden from Gilda. Melissa could do nothing except cry, afraid to tell her mother what was happening for fear of making her situation worse.

Giovanni was previously the biggest investor in Pizza Boy's Pizz-Pizza. During that time, Totino the Pizza Boy often visited Melissa at the Monotoli mansion for playdates. There, Totino witnessed how Giovanni treated Melissa, but did not interfere since... well, he wasn't any older than Melissa herself, and Giovanni scared him. All he could do was comfort Melissa when she cried...

When Melissa nearly died at her eighth birthday party, it scared Giovanni half-to-death. It also infuriated him to the point where he tracked down the then-current CEOs of Pizza Boy's Pizz-Pizza and murdered them in cold blood. He managed to get away with it because the police failed to find any evidence connecting him to the crime. Apparently, the only way they were able to identify the bodies was through their dental records. Guardianship of Totino the Pizza Boy was given to Pizzamancer after that. It wouldn't be until many years later that Pizzahead figured out who killed his three parents. Needless to say, he isn't happy with Giovanni, and is still trying to plot the perfect revenge scheme.

Peppino also isn't fond of Giovanni. When Melissa told her father that she was dating Peppino, he laughed hysterically, thinking Melissa was telling a joke. When she clarified that she wasn't joking, Giovanni immediately disapproved of her dating “a small fry”, telling her she could do better than “a crappy pizza chef with a failing restaurant and a bad mustache”. Peppino nearly throws hands with Giovanni, but Melissa, knowing how dangerous her father is, warns him not to. While Peppino can't exactly die, he CAN get hurt, and of course Melissa doesn't want that. So, Peppino just fumes while Giovanni insults him, trying to figure out a way to humble his pompous ass once and for all so that he can date – and eventually marry – Melissa without any problems.

(I apologize if this is too dark for some people and I will gladly lighten things up if y'all want me to.)

[handonshipper]

Drawn to Love: Chapter Two

Summary:

Klaus Mikaelson had made a lot of enemies over the centuries. Because of this, his daughter, the 17 year old tribrid named Hope, had to move from place to place. Now, she moved to Mystic Falls and started attending Mystic Falls High, where she meets an attractive Landon Kirby who was assigned to be her tour guide. She had sworn to herself not to make connections, but that seems to be easier said than done

Ships:

Hope/Landon, Freya/Keelin, Finch/Josie, MG/Lizzie

Characters:

Hope Mikaelson, Landon Kirby, Freya Mikaelson, Lizzie Saltzman, Josie Saltzman, Keelin Malraux-Mikaelson, Milton Greasley, Finch Tarrayo, Nik Malraux-Mikaelson

Other reading location:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33830149/chapters/86393698

Previous Chapter:

https://handonshipper.tumblr.com/post/685990148790435840/drawn-to-love-chapter-one

Landon frowned, watching how quickly she got up when the bell rang. Based on how often she moved around, she couldn't possibly be that concerned with her attendance record. Which meant she just didn't want to spend another second sitting here with him. He sighed softly and grabbed his own bag, dumping out the trash on his tray.

"You do know we have history together now?" He said catching up to Hope. "If your disappearing act was an attempt to get rid of me." His tone was playful, indicating he was joking but deep down some part of him meant it. He was disappointed that the first girl he was into didn't want anything to do with him.

Hope's face faltered. "It's not you. I'm just not the best person to be around, Landon. The people I care about have a tendency to die on me. And I don't want another name on that list of people I lost"

Landon's eyes softened, now realizing her hesitation must be related to whatever happened to her parents. He offered her a small smile. "It's just a short walk to history class. Or do you think I'm suddenly going to trip over a trash can and fall to my death?" He joked. "Tell you what. Since you think you're cursed, why don't we prove the curse wrong? I'll spend two weeks hanging out with you. And if in two weeks I'm still alive and haven't been in risk of dying, then you have to admit you're not cursed and...let me buy you a milkshake sometime." He smiled looking at her. "What do you say?"

"That doesn't prove anything" Hope said with a soft sigh.

"Sure it does. It'll prove that not everyone who gets close to you ends up dead." Landon reasoned with a small smile.

"And what if you do die?" She looked at Landon. She didnt want to lose someone else. But it was also hard for her to push him away

"If I do die, then...I don't know. I guess I'll have to haunt you from beyond the grave." He joked. "But you have nothing to worry about. This is Mystic Falls. The biggest danger here is dying of boredom." He chuckled softly.

Hope sighed softly. Clearly he never looked up the town history. They must have really done a good job at covering it up. "If you say so. Look, I'll play along. For now. But you are not going to die because of me" she said firmly.

"I know I'm not." Landon grinned. "See? You're already believing there's no curse." He said playfully as he reached the history classroom. "Now all that's left to do is enjoy the two week countdown."

"I wouldnt say that. And I didn't say I would get close to you. You can talk to someone without getting close enough for them to die too. I hope at least"

Landon looked at her, curiosity and sympathy reflecting in his eyes. "You really believe that don't you? That everyone who gets close to you ends up dying." He sighed softly. He wished he could help her. And not just because he really wanted to get closer to her. Rather because he couldn't imagine what it was like for her, living with those thoughts. "I guess I'll just have to work extra hard to prove you wrong. And you know what? Even if I do die, at least I'll die having spent time with you. That's a plus in my book."

Hope looked at him curiously, walking alongside him in thought. "Yeah. I do believe it. I do like talking to you though. More than I should. Though I don't know why that would be a plus in your book. I'm not anything special" Besides being a tribrid. "Nothing worth dying over'

Landon exhaled softly and gave her a small smile, wishing he could take out the obvious pain in her heart. He wished he could ease her burden and make her happy. There was no logical explanation for why he cared so much. But he just knew he cared for her more than anyone else he had ever met. Though bullies and abusive foster families certainly didn't help that.

"I like spending time with you too. I don't know all of why exactly besides the fact you are interesting. But.... there's something about you that makes me want to know more about you. I'm willing to take the risk that your curse of losing people is real. After all, aren't you supposed to take chances in life?"

The tribrid was silent as they continued to walk to the history classroom. She went inside and took a seat at the desk towards the back, unable to help her thoughts that were going through her mind. She wanted to get to know him. There was some unexplainable pull she felt towards him. She wanted to be his friend and just talk to him. But was it worth the risk?

When Landon Kirby took a seat beside her out of all of the seats in the classroom, the tribrid couldnt help the faint smile that formed on her face. Without thinking of the consequences, without worrying about what was to come, she spoke "I'll see you this afternoon at the Grill. Even if they don't want to go out, I'll stop by"

An eager grin spread across the face of Landon Kirby at the thought of her wanting to see him. Perhaps he could help ease her mind over her fear of losing people. She seemed like such a nice girl that did not deserve to be burdened with these thoughts and feelings. She deserved to be herself and enjoy life while it lasted. After all, wasn't that what life was supposed to be about? He felt happier spending time with her than he had in a long time because of how his several foster families and classmates treated him. But around Hope, he felt like anything was possible.

After school, Hope was picked up by her Aunt Freya, and she looked out of the window, thoughts circling through her mind. She did not want to mention her attractive tour guide to her aunt because she didn't want her aunt to ask questions about him. Hope doubted anything would come out of this. After all, she didn't see herself jumping into a relationship after what happened with her brief last one.  Logic screamed at her not to just easily trust this new stranger in her life. Not after everything she had been through. So why did she feel a strong desire to go tell her aunt to bring her to the Mystic Grill?

She remained all the way silent till they got to their new house before she got out and headed off to her room. The movers had arrived while she was gone, and things were brought to her room for her to unpack. But Hope currently had inspiration for art, so she ignored most of her belongings and went straight for the art easel. She carried it to the spare room that they weren't using and began setting it up as an art room. She got enough set up for now before setting up her easel and canvas. She then began to paint, a vivid image in her mind.

It was her and Landon at lunch, though the two of them were a silhouette. She supposed it resembled the way she was unsure about their connection and whether or not it was able to continue. There was a lot of mystery between them. And the more secrets that would be unraveled, the more vivid the two characters would become. She supposed Landon may become a clearer, more vivid image with various colors once she knew more about him. If she allowed herself to get to know him, which was still a debate. But with all of the secrets about her and her family and even her own last name that she would need to keep from him, whether he was trustworthy or not insured that her side would remain a silhouette even in her own mind.

Eventually, she came downstairs, taking Nick into her arms from his position on the floor. She held onto her cousin with a small smile, wanting to spend some time with him. "Where's Keelin?" the tribrid asked finally as she looked around.

"She's making sure she has her position at Mystic Falls Hospital" Freya replied

Hope nodded, a wave of guilt crushing her insides. It was her fault that they needed to move. If her family hadn't insisted on her needing protection, if she hadn't accidentally caused a problem at her last school, Keelin wouldn't need to search out for a new job, no matter how easy it happened to be for her to transfer job locations. (She suspected Marcel or Rebekah's talents were involved despite Keelin's request to earn it for herself).

"Alright. Do we know what we are going to do for dinner?" Hope asked, holding her cousin in her arms.

"Not yet," Freya replied. "We might go out tonight since we haven't gone shopping yet."

"I heard the Mystic Grill was a good place to eat"

The witch nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. We could go once Keelin gets back"

A faint smile formed on her face as she kissed the top of Nik's head before setting him down. She loved her little cousin but only ever spent time with him sometimes while she was with Freya and Keelin. She didnt want him to end up dying too if she could help it. After all, Hope Mikaelson felt as though she was cursed to lose everyone she got close to. Which was why she had no idea why she was humoring this teenage boy's request.

Soon enough, Keelin came through the front door and pulled Freya into a kiss, a smile on her face before she slowly pulled away. "Everything is ready for me to get started on Monday. Until then, I'm all yours" she said with a small smile as she looked at her wife before turning to face Hope. "How was school?"

"It was school, I guess. Nothing exactly exciting"

"Hope wants us to go to the Mystic Grill for dinner" Freya informed Keelin

The werewolf nodded a little. "Well we should probably get going then. Before its time for Nik to go to sleep" She picked up her son and carried him outside to the car before putting him in his baby seat.

Hope climbed into the car and sighed softly, thoughts going through her mind. "I started setting up my art room" she informed them with a small smile. "I still have a good bit to set up, though. Both in the art room and my bedroom. I'll work on it once we get back to the house"

She didn't call it home. In her mind, her home was New Orleans. A place it wasn't safe for her to be at. A place full of memories of the small time period she was able to be with both of her parents. Throughout her whole life, she had only gotten to know her dad a brief time when she was seven and then when she was fifteen. Any other memories, she was too much of a child to be able to recall them.

"Have you started on any art pieces?" Keelin asked curiously, knowing art was a deep passion of Hope's.

"I have actually. A painting including silhouettes. I still need to work on some parts of it once it dries."

"She was in there since she got back from school" Freya told her wife as she reached the Mystic Grill. She parked and got out before getting their son

"Well, I'm sure whatever art piece Hope was working on looks great, based on the paintings I have seen in the past." Keelin said. It wasn't an optimistic compliment or encouragement. It was based off of what she had seen in the past, which was some of the best art work she had ever seen in her life.

"Thank you" Hope said with a small smile as the three of them began walking to the restaurant. 

She turned the handle of the restaurant door and opened it before w g inside. Nearby was the host station that was vacant but not for long as the host soon rejoined his station. They approached the Host Station, and Freya spoke up. "Table for three and a highchair for the little one please"

"Alright, take a seat wherever you'd like, and I'll bring the highchair over.'

"Thank you" Keelin said, and they walked over to a table, a highchair being brought close behind them.

Keelin set Nik down in the highchair with a small smile, and the three of them took their seats. The tribrid was lost in thought as her mind drifted to her tour guide and his insistence to spend time with her. It was hardly the first time someone was interested in her, boy or girl, so why was she having trouble pushing this one away? Especially when she knew what happened with her first and only love interest so far in her life.

Roman Siena.

He had betrayed her. Peaked into her mind and found out secrets she had kept hidden. Her mother's location. He was the reason her mom was dead. But... so was she. If she had never kidnapped her mom to lure her dad back home, she would still have her mom right now. Instead, she would never see her again. Not until she died for good at least.

Ever since her mother's death, she had continued blaming herself, thinking of everything she could have done differently that would have prevented it. And when her father died shortly after, she began thinking the same line of thoughts for him. He died to save her. And Elijah died alongside of him. She was supposed to be worth it. But she wasnt. And she kept messing up the lives of her relatives of them having to take care of her. They didn't get to live the lives they deserved because of her.

And now this boy could end up dead just like her parents. Just like her uncle. His life could be shifted off course and he could get hurt. Loving a Mikaelson would only get you hurt or killed. Even being friends with one would end up causing him to suffer. And Hope didnt want that. She barely knew him, but she knew that she did not want him or anyone else to get hurt because of her.

"Hope? You came" A recently familiar voice tore her out of her thoughts and memories as she looked up quickly at Landon Kirby.

A smile formed on her face despite her best efforts. "Landon. Uh, Landon, these are my aunts Freya and Keelin, and my cousin Nick.  This is Landon. He was my tour guide at school today."

"It is nice to meet you, Landon"  Freya said with a kind smile as she looked at the teenage waiter that had arrived at the table, wearing his blue Mystic Grill uniform.

"Yes it is." Keelin agreed with a nod, noticing the smile on Hope's face, caused by the mere presence of this boy. "Do you have classes with Hope?"

"Two. We have history and English together." Landon said, looking at her. "Its nice to meet you. Is there anything I can get for all of you?"

"I'll take a salad and some water" Freya replied

"I'd like a burger and fries" Keelin said, looking at him.

"Same" Hope said. "With a glass of water and a milkshake"

"Peanut butter blast, whipped cream on the bottom?" The waiter questioned as he recalled her telling him about it.

The tribrid's eyes lit up as a smile stretched across her face. She couldnt help it, even though she was insistent on keeping her distance. He remembered what she had said. She wasnt used to being around people and talking to them. And she hadn't expected the few that had to really care much about what she said. But in today alone, he had proven otherwise more than once.

"Yes, that's the flavor I want. Thank you" she said, unable to help her rush of happiness at the simple fact he remembered her flavor.

Landon smiled back at her, feeling relief at the sight of her smile. It only gave him more hope that she actually liked being around him. "Alright, I'll be back shortly" he said and went to get their drinks ready so they could have it while they wait.

Hope tore her gaze away and caught sight of her aunts' expressions. "Okay I know what you're thinking. But its not a big deal. He was just a tour guide"

"Just a tour guide? It didn't seem like that. You usually barely talk to anyone" Freya pointed out with a small smile Hope blushed a little. "He might have also sat down at my lunch table, and I talked to him a little. It's not a big deal" 

"You're blushing" Keelin noticed, "but if you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. We are just glad to see you are making friends"

Hope's gaze lowered a bit, the tribrid falling silent as she thought about everything. She looked up as the milkshake was put in front of her. "Thank you" she told Landon, giving him a small smile.  "You're welcome" he said before leaving the table since everyone had their drinks. He continued working, walking back over with their food once it was ready. 

Eventually, it was time for them to leave, and Landon looked at Hope. "I'll see you tomorrow"  Hope gave him a small smile. "See you tomorrow' she said softly and picked up Nik out of his highchair before carrying him out of the restaurant and to the car. 

What if she was making the wrong choice by appeasing him with his  two week proof? She was the tribrid. The only one of her kind. A first born Mikaelson witch with a terrifying amount of power. What if she hurt him? Or what if someone sensed her power and came after her again. The Hollow was bad enough. Dahlia. Everyone that had already been after her. What was next? And would she survive? Would her aunts? Nik? Her tour guide? Everyone could get hurt because of her. And that was the last thing she wanted

Those thoughts remained in her head as they arrived at their house. The tribrid headed upstairs, thoughts going through her mind, clouding her mind too much for her to want to finish her painting. She looked over at the wall in her bedroom with a single painting on it. The only painting she had made with her father. As much as it hurt, she didn't want to get rid of it or keep it stored away. 

After putting Nik to bed, Freya walked over to her wife and wrapped her arms around her. "I think we might have scared Hope off of spending time with that boy, Landon" "She'll come around" Keelin said, looking at her. "No one wants to be alone. Whether she gets involved with him or just ends up becoming friends with him, it's obvious she already cares about him. That doesn't just go away"

"I know. I hope you're right. But we both know how she feels about getting close to people" "I know we didn't see much of him, but he doesn't seem the type just to give up because she is a bit distant"  Keelin said and tugged her closer, pressing her lips to Freya's. Her wife deepened the kiss, not wanting to let her go. Eventually Keelin pulled away and pulled her a little towards the bed "Now come on, lets get to bed. We have things to do tomorrow" 

The witch and the werewolf got in their bed, and Freya lifted Keelin's hand to her lips and kisses each fingertip, a smile on her face. Keelin  grabbed Freya by the waist and pulled her close. Her lips stumbled into the witch's, bruising as the intoxicating taste of her filled the werewolf's mouth. Freya was glad she had Keelin in her life and did indeed hope that Hope let herself be happy as well. She pulled away eventually with a smile and laid with her wife, peacefully falling asleep.

[newgenog]

REVENGE

Notes: This is part two of chapter three. If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading part one of chapter one.

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Playing with these character parallels has been fun. And writing an intentionally vengeful Ryan Wilder (who is not a cloaked hero) is an interesting challenge, too.

I break my (super long 😅) chapters into parts and post them on Tumblr each Friday. Then, I post their the final part with the complete on A03.

Aright, let's get into it.

CHAPTER THREE - BETRAYAL (Part Two)

Summary: Before he can announce his intent to run for Mayor, Robyn Wilde makes it her mission to destroy the life of the District Attorney that decided to bring criminal charges against her for the events that led to her mother’s death when she was the child known as Ryan Wilder.

THE LOFT, 2PM ON SUNDAY

Ryan felt tugged towards The Hold Up. She knew that was exactly where she shouldn’t be. She came back to Gotham for one reason: to rectify the wrongs done to her mom and her. She was pursuing a vicious but precise attack, and the risk was great for anyone who got caught in the crossfire. 

Still, when she arrived outside of her new home, the door to the bar seemed to glow, and she couldn’t decide if it was indicating ‘stay back, radioactive relationships are on the other side,’ or ‘everything is bright and warm here.’ Regardless, she’s combustible and that heat was likely to create the perfect amount of pressure to blow everything up. All walking into that bar would do is cause more damage. So, as she sits at her kitchen table, staring at the stairway that will drop her off in front of the office where her favorite feline is likely curled up napping, and where the family she feels protective of even though she’s who they need protecting from is trying to manage yet another thing, she reminds herself that she has work to do. 

She’s spent the last hour reviewing, revising, and finalizing the packet she’ll use to introduce her shared business venture proposal to Kate. She needs to put that to bed so she can focus on her next target - Roman Sionis. She saves the pitch file, and then opens up the folder of footage from the statements recorded at the police station that Luke was able to obtain from Arther Brown’s hidden archives. 

All named witnesses were called into the police station after Cora was shot. Because they were minors, parents were able to accompany them in the interrogation room. She selects a video and fast forwards to the statement that ultimately damned her to growing up too fast in youth hell at the detention center. 

Catherine Hamilton and Beth Kane sat in a room with two large-mirrored walls, lit with one overhead lamp, and at an oval conference room table. Catherine was clutching her step daughter’s hand in a way that felt more threatening than supportive. She was clearly doing everything in her power to maintain control over this spiraling situation. 

Catherine: "Detective, why are we here?" Sionis: "Your daughter was named as a witness at the scene where Cora Lewis was shot to death." Beth: “STEP daughter.” The sharp look Catherine shoots Beth seems worse than lethal.  Catherine: “Who would be foolish enough to say such a thing?” Sionis: “Her daughter, Ryan Wilder.”  Catherine: “And what’s her word worth? That girl is obviously disturbed, and this is a waste of our time.”  Sionis: “Are you suggesting she’s falsifying her story?” Catherine: “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m stating for a fact: my daughter was nowhere near that heinous tragedy.”  Sionis: “Ryan Wilder just watched her mother die in front of her. What reason does she have to come up with such an exaggerated lie?” Catherine: “That misguided child just doesn’t want to be held accountable for her mistakes, and it’s a shame her mother’s life was the ultimate price for them. That neighborhood they lived in was so rotten, it must have had a hold on her, and it’s no wonder Cora felt the need to protect herself with a firearm. We took care of Cora - treated her like family. But, honestly, I’m quite horrified to think she was in my home, near my children with that God awful thing.” The outright offense, shock, and disappointment seeping out of every word and gesture Catherine relays is hard to argue with. She is putting on a very impressive performance, and it is swaying this detective who has had years on the job, talking circles around criminals. Cathrine Hamilton isn’t his usual criminal though…Nothing about this is typical. Sionis: “I don’t know, Catherine. Why would she pluck your names out of thin air?” Catherine: “It's not out of thin air. It’s our building she and her mother were moving into. To think, I tried to help get them somewhere safer by offering them a nice place that they could afford. Her mother even told me how worried she was for her daughter, attending that public school - said that she’d gotten into fights... That girl brings trouble with her everywhere she goes.”  Sionis: “I’m not sure I’m following.” Catherine: “Beth, tell Detective Sionis what we discussed on the way here.” Beth rolls her eyes, and receives a squeeze to her hand that jolts her and earns Catherine a death stare of her own. She answers without breaking eye contact with her step mother. Beth: “She came to our school today, saying she wanted to make some new friends, and that she had party favors for anyone who wanted to ditch and follow her to her new apartment.”  Sionis: “And your friends went, but not you…?” Catherine: “Of course she didn’t.” Sionis: “Ms. Kane?” She finally faces and answers him, almost verbatim. Beth: “Of course I didn’t.” Sionis: “Why would you pass up on a party? No offense, but it’s not exactly a secret that you’re pretty out and about.”  Cathrine: “And that’s exactly why I’ve had her coming home after school to help me coordinate the annual Christmas Charity Drive. She’s learning some responsibility. We’ve received a number of generous donations, and she spent the afternoon with me, organizing everything that needs to be wrapped.” Sionis finally takes a seat in his chair, and drops his shoulders. It’s as if he’s having a conversation with himself. Could the family he spends Christmas time with, giving back to the community every year, really have been involved in a scene that involved drugs and a shooting, in a neighborhood so far from their home and their children’s school? Granted, the kids present during the arrest also attend the same school, but this family is separate from even their peers… Them being targeted isn’t a completely far-fetched idea. He releases a breath, apparently coming to a decision.  Sionis: “That is a very lovely event you plan, Mrs. Hamilton. My team really enjoyed themselves last year.” He smiles at her, and they exchange a knowing glance stemming from shared memories. Sure, donations are collected, but that’s not what makes them look forward to attending the event each year.

Catherine: “It was a wonderful night; we were able to help a lot of families together. They depend on us, Roman. So, I’d love it if we could get back to our important work.” 

Sionis: “Fair enough. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of them receiving their meals and presents. But, we’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”

Catherine: “I’d expect nothing less.”

And with that, they were free to go. Nothing Ryan said from that point on could unplant Catherine’s seeds. It was easier for Roman Sionis to believe that a kid he didn’t know, from a lower income neighborhood and attending a public school could convince some rich kids to get into trouble than to wrap his mind around the fact that a wealthy family had a daughter who was the trouble. His allegiance was to his own community, which he was barely a part of himself. At the time, Roman wasn’t a member of the elite based on his earnings or his reputation. However, his jurisdiction and agreeable relationship with The Crows made him valuable. The Kanes knew how to protect their assets. 

Whether Ryan’s case made him want to put distance between his decision to press charges against her and the outcome, or get closer to the people in power and position to influence the ending to cases like hers, Roman changed his career trajectory from Chief of Police to District Attorney. He pursued a law degree, and became a prosecutor within the years that Ryan was serving time. There did seem to be more prestige associated with law manipulators than there was for law enforcers. He could even pursue anything from being a Judge to a life in politics from this side of the law.

When Ryan was released from the facility, she was suddenly wealthy beyond measure thanks to her inheritance from Lucius Fox, but she couldn’t really make sense of that. The funds she’d been gifted sat untouched in an account with her name on it. She needed to at least try to find her way back to what she previously understood to be a normal life. 

She'd taken a job bussing tables at a bar that was much mustier and darker than the one she lives above now. It was always cloudy with smoke and noisy with belligerence. Even still, there was an odd comfort to the chaos. In juvie, angry children created a similar sound effect, and even while she hated every moment of her time there, the detention center was what she was most familiar with after having lived there for so many years. Her basement apartment provided some of that sensation, as it too was relatively dark and small, but the silence was almost impossible to sit with; the only time she’d been that alone was when she was forcefully isolated after fights…

One night while working at the bar, she was clearing used glasses from a table that was waiting for their next round, and her ears tuned into hushed strategizing among the small group of suited men seated around it. One of their voices she knew too well, because she’d replayed it in her mind so many times, trying to figure out how she’d ended up where she had. She was instantly taken back to that interrogation room - the first dark, windowless room that was like a sneak peek into her future. She was suddenly fourteen again, with no guardian or legal representation to protect her. 

She remembers sitting alone with a tall, white man, with slicked back hair, a charismatic voice, and a tone of authority from his years of experience. He'd asked her questions about school, and her neighborhood, seeming empathetic about what it must be like to be a Black kid growing up in a single parent home, and having to spend a lot of time on her own, being trusted to make responsible choices. He imagined it must feel lonely and challenging to not always have a parent around to take you to after school activities, or help you figure out who you should be making friends with.

Ryan had tried to talk about how close she and her mama were, and how they had had community through the church. Her mama wasn’t raising her alone… But the truth was, Cora worked long hours at the Kanes. Ryan did spend a lot of time trying to contribute where she could, to keep their home in order. She and her mama were a team…

Ryan's attention returns to the customers' conversation when Roman Sionis slams his fist against the table, somewhat quietly, trying to make the point that he’s serious about what he’s saying without drawing too much attention to his companions, which she’d later find out were the man who replaced him and ultimately became Captain, and his ADA, Arthur Brown. She begins spraying and wiping down a nearby table to stay within earshot of their discussion. 

Sionis: “I will not allow her to go down for this. She’s my daughter. It’s my job to protect her.” Captain: “She’s not a child, Sionis. How did you see this ending?” Arthur: “Look, we need a plan.” Captain: “WE? I’m not a part of this.” Roman looks at the new police captain with intention, like there’s no point in the captain trying to pretend he doesn’t know what part he’s expected to play in this. Arthur: “You’re here, aren’t you?” Captain: “No! Hell no! I’m not losing my job for you two.” Sionis: “After everything we’ve been through…” The captain lets his head fall. Clearly they’d buried secrets before, and it was time to do it again.

Now, Ryan pulls herself out of her memories, and clicks on the video that matters most in these discovered files. She trims a clip that’s incriminating, but that doesn’t show who’s doing the crime. She zooms in, so there will be no mistaking who was harmed in the incident. Then, she picks up her phone. 

Luke: “Hey, I’m downstairs.”

Ryan hesitates to respond, and then allows herself one small concession. 

Ryan: “How is she?”

Luke: “There are a lot of people here; apparently word got around about Ms. Moore ending up in the hospital, and they came to show their support. Of course, Ms. Moore couldn't stay away from this place. She’s at least seated at a table, but I think Sophie’s too busy managing her, their visitors, and the bar to be much of anything right now.”

Ryan isn’t even going to pretend to be surprised that Luke understood who she meant, and she’s somewhat relieved that her promise to check on the Moores probably won’t be top of mind for them. 

Luke: “I’m guessing you’re not on your way down to ask me whatever it is you called about, in-person.” 

Ryan: “I’m kind of in the middle of something, but I’ll check on them…” 

Ryan doesn’t want to commit to a timeframe, even if it’s only herself she’ll be letting down. 

Luke: “Okay then. What do you need?”

Ryan: “I need you to send a video in an untraceable email to Roman’s campaign manager.”

Luke: “Send it to me, and I’ll handle it as soon as I leave here.” 

Ryan: “Sent.” 

Luke: “Great.”

Ryan ends the call, and sets her phone down on the table. She pushes her laptop to the side, and pulls her mama’s box closer to her. Finally, she digs out the journal and flips to the letter that comes closest to breaking her heart every time she reads it. 

Dear Daughter, I want to share a moment of reflection and gratitude I experienced today with you. I believe that people often have more in common than we don't. Regardless to our upbringing, our access, and our exposure, many of us are trying our best to overcome our hardships and make the most out of the time we've been given. Running the Kane's kitchen and making sure their family is well fed might not be seen as glamorous work, but it's an honest living and it allows me to do what I love while being respected and appreciated. It also reminds me not to make too many assumptions about people I'd previously struggled to relate to.  Catherine Hamilton has a daughter your age named Mary.  As Asian Americans, they often have a hard time finding their place in their own home. Catherine was a single mother until a few years ago. While her wealth thanks to her success in her company means her challenges are not exactly the same as mine, taking care of a child on your own is not easy for any parent. Like me, she also doesn't have other relatives to depend on. So the responsibility of making decisions about how to care for her child has been solely on her.  I believe that helps us understand each other. We share knowing glances when she's mothering Mary in one way or another. If you call me at work with a question, and she catches the end of a conversation, she'll smile at me with compassion. She's always supportive when I ask for flexibility so that I can be present when and where you need me. I read the articles about her. They say she's cold, and prioritizes her success above everything else. I've seen a different side of her though, and so you can't always judge a book by its cover. Her daughter is like you in a lot of ways, too. She's not expecting or entitled the way her step sisters can be. She's responsible, independent, and most of all kind. No matter how those Kane girls treat her, and even though she's two years younger, she's always doing what she can to help them. Her mother's love and example has to have something to do with that. Today, I told Catherine that I had saved enough and that I'd like to start a restaurant. I believed her building would be the perfect location for us, and I hoped she wouldn't be too let down about me leaving my role in her kitchen to pursue my dream. To my surprise she suggested we move into the apartment above the unit where my restaurant would be. Without hesitation, she picked up the phone and started making arrangements for me to meet with the individuals I'd need to so I could lease the two places. I'm sharing this because we live in a world where you might look across those train tracks and assume no one on the other side of them will ever understand or embrace you. But you have to give people the chance to see you if you want to be seen. You have to be open to the possibility that there's more to someone than the external things that seem to separate you. And, the more we can each walk over those tracks to get to know our neighbors, the closer we'll all eventually feel to each other. Don't limit your own ability to learn about someone else's experience based on how they seem from a far. There's often more to the story.  I'm so excited about this next chapter of our lives together, and appreciative of everything that led to us getting here. Your Mama, Cora

Cora had dreams she was close to reaching, and she never got the chance to see them manifest. She related to people who didn’t truly value or respect her. She had faith and believed in people that didn’t deserve her trust. She gave so much and, in the end, she lost everything. 

~~~~~

To be continued...

Reminder Time:

Come back next Friday for part three.

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