#the later chapters will have more plot to them

[soo-won]

About the shoulder wound parallel I have so many thoughts about it but to reach the suwon/zeno part of it I first need to make it about Suwon and Hak I swear it makes sense stay with me. I've been obsessing over Suwon's shoulder wound ever since ch249 and I think it can be symbolically connected to the wound Hak caused in chapter 2, which is the Suwon I drew here. Like, the thing is, Kusanagi gave Suwon a wound in chapter 249 on the same shoulder as at the start of the story, a few chapters before giving Zeno another wound on the opposite shoulder and said wound became plot relevant in a chapter that makes direct parallel between Suwon and Zeno in ch256... So much to unpack here, right? Maybe it's all coincidence, but even if so it's fun to think about it so here I am!!

So first, Suwon's shoulder and the development of his relationship with Hak. It's always hard to tell if Kusanagi completely forgot about Hak slashing Suwon's right shoulder in chapter 2 since it's never mentioned again and we never know if Suwon even has any scar left of it, but, Suwon's right shoulder comes into play a few times later in the story sooo...it could be... In chapter 259 when Zeno fights against Hak and Yona, Hak tells him that he would never use his weapon against him. In a set up that is very similar to the night of the coup (with this time Yona protecting Hak against the Betrayer(tm)), to me it resonates strongly with Hak's actions that night. Unlike back then with Suwon, Hak refuses to use his weapon against a friend, even if said friend betrayed him, is threatening them and hurt people he cares for. Hak refuses to treat Zeno as his enemy like he did with Suwon then. (The circumstances are a bit different of course, but this scene makes me think Kusanagi does remember well how things happened that night, and Hak hurting Suwon.) This obviously surprises and moves Zeno.

I don't really want to interpret Hak's thoughts and feelings here. It could be interpreted as him regretting doing things this way with Suwon before, or it could not... But the thing is, he is doing things differently. To be fair in chapter 2 Hak could only do what he could in an high risk and unexpected situation to avoid Yona being killed and then to escape together. But when facing a similar situation again he now has the conviction he wants to do things differently and that's the meaningful part that feels important to me here.

And that new conviction was already already seen with Suwon before.

Hak giving Suwon the senjusou in chapter 224 is already a parallel to many other Suwon/Hak scenes before, and I want to argue it's also a parallel to chapter 2. On the same shoulder Hak afflicted a wound in the past, he now rests and falls asleep in his act of trying to save Suwon and heal him. Like with Zeno, he's not treating Suwon as an enemy here, but like an old friend he wants to help. Suwon, the one person Hak has always be in extreme alert around since the coup, becomes a person Hak lets himself be vulnerable with and finally rests on. Actually, the parallel with chapter 2 hits even more when you realize that chapter 224 is the very first time Suwon and Hak have a physical contact ever since...chapter 2 and their swordfight.

On top of that, we know that Suwon remembers the very feeling of Hak on his shoulder so much he gets lost in thoughts about it before Minsu bursts his bubble in ch225. As Suwon also thinks to himself, "at that moment, I forgot the pain". A feeling so intense he feels no pain at all for a second, in contrast to an act that physically hurt him in chapter 2...I could go on like that for hours. In a way, Hak becomes a bandage on Suwon's symbolic scar. Suwon still carries the pain of discarding Yona and Hak for his goal, convinced he doesn't need nor deserve their help and support, yet longing for their presence by his side, and then here is Hak and he can feel his warmth. Also making a parallel between his freezing hands a few chapter earlier and the comforting warmth he feels from Hak. It's healing, as much if not more than the senjusou itself.

Suwon until now was in a way indulging in the pain of Hak hating him and trying to kill him, of Yona killing him one of these days. It's easy, it's to be expected, it's what he thinks he deserves, it's fate in a way. It hurts but he will accept it and endure, like his illness. Yet Yona and Hak actually both resisted against this fate and went against the tides.

So the events of this arc were totally unexpected for Suwon. It started to make him rely on them more, but it sadly didn't change Suwon's convinction that this is "not even", that he still deserves a punishment and to be in pain. Chapter 249 in many ways is when everything the characters tried to maintain until now breaks apart. Shinah losing against his powers, the ropes to tie him down tearing apart, the alliance between yona and suwon's sides seeming to break apart too... They couldn't hold it together against fate and the gods, even after getting over everything together as humans until now.

But as Suwon says himself in chapter 262 about his wound, it wasn't so much Shinah or the gods then but him. He offered himself up to Shinah. As if to erase the comfort of Hak on his shoulder, it's now replaced by a new wound on that very same shoulder. It's his punishment. He believes he doesn't deserve the former. He has to pay a price for Yona and Hak helping him despite betraying them, and using them for his goals even now, and he ends up finding that solace in the Heavens' intervention. They validate Suwon's most self destructive thoughts. These ideologies go hand in hand.

That Hak in chapter 262 questions Suwon about his wound, that Suwon tries to brush it off and endure the pain like he always does, and that Hak insists and makes him ask for help himself is extremely moving because of all of this of course. Suwon was the receiver until now. He received his wound by Hak, then he received the senjusou by Hak too, and Hak's warmth and protection. Then he received Shinah's attack, and he received Minsu and Yun's treatment etc... Suwon stays passive and in the expectation when it comes to his own body. Suwon doesn't hurt himself directly, he lets others do it for him. His own self guilt is a reality in many people around him. He's the object of most people's gaze, we see him a lot of time through how others view him and what they think of him. To Suwon, Shinah's furious gaze at him in the castle and then in ch249 are the symbol of this. So when he couldn't find and get this retribution from Hak or Yona directly anymore, here was Shinah in his monstrous dragon form. (Suwon not moving in ch249 is very similar to Suwon not moving in front of Hak in ch91 too).

This is where I finally arrive to Zeno. Zeno in opposition to Suwon very much hurts himself directly, he's the main perpretator of his own injuries. That's exactly why the idea that to be killed he has to be the receiver and have Yona do it for him is torture, I think. To me, this is the horror of his realization when he looks at his shoulder wound in chapter 256.

Even after coming to the realization that only Yona can kill him, he still says nothing to her and tries to make her kill him by his own hands. The cruel thing in the situation with Zeno is him realizing how little agency he has, even less than the little he thought he could possibly get. The way he interpreted the prophecy, made a plan on his own without telling his friends and causing the end of the dragons himself...it's all part of Zeno trying to have any sort of agency. But he doesn't. It's all the gods and Yona in this case.

Again it's ironic. Zeno who wants to die more than anyone else has to force it again and again for it to happen, whereas Suwon has it coming for him from every direction. Yet, neither are dying in the end. All they have is that open scar on their shoulder.

To be honest, I'm still not sure what it could symbolize for Zeno as Yona inflicted it to him on accident. But just like Suwon, it's an open wound. And just like Suwon, Zeno lives with the idea of "even" exchange. After all, his power activates only if he gets hurt. Unlike Yona who learns to protect others together while protecting and defending herself too, Zeno keeps hurting himself to protect others without hesitation. He and Yona share the same desperation over their powerlessness to protect the people suffering around them, but act on it differently. Zeno's power encourages him to do so, it ingrained in him that he should and has to suffer to use a power that shouldn't exist in the human world. Unlike Suwon who first acts in a certain way and then wait for the payback(retribution), Zeno gets hurt first then waits for the payback(sacrifice). I think that's why Zeno's shoulder wound actually come before his real betrayal to Yona, it works in a different logic than Suwon's. Being hurt by Yona isn't a consequence of betraying her, it's a condition.

And it fits very well with how Zeno did things to try to die: He made a sacrifice with the dragon warriors and then waited for the Gods to pay him back after he completed their supposed requirements. He naturally did things just like when he wants to use his power. First hurt yourself, sacrifice something, and then the Gods should give you what you want.

From experience he thought he had control here. He's used to it after all. But he soon had had to realize that he actually has no agency over this system at all and is not in a so much different position than the other dragon warriors. Neither in relation to his power nor the conditions for him to die.

Zeno ended up thinking that he deserved to be hurt as condition for his powers, just like the dragons can only get short lifespan for theirs, erasing in a way how none of them ever decided for things to function this way. He rationalized it when the truth is there is nothing rational about the God's rules and how they make decisions. The fact he gets so frustrated when the DDHHB stops him from hurting himself shows this well. He normalized it. The truth is the dragon warriors were always only exploited. He didn't actually want to hurt the dragons or to ask Yona to kill him, but he accepted and normalized that it was the only way for him to achieve his goal, even though it's this whole system that needs to change. Against this cruel reality, Zeno can only make himself numb to the pain and convince himself he's okay with all of this. That it's all logical and set in stones. That it's fate. Ah- just like Suwon.

I went a bit on a tangent and we're not talking much about the shoulder wounds themselves anymore, but as for everything with Suwon and Zeno, their differences are always two sides of the same coin that join together, if that makes sense. In the end, I see these mirroring wounds as the symbol of how they're objectified by the Heavens and how it's ingrained in them, literally on their body. Their bodies receive the mark of trying to get something themselves inside this system ruled by the Gods and the Heavens, this determination also symbolized by Yuhon and Hiryuu's swords.

For Suwon, it's the belief that if he makes the decision to judge others and hurt them for his goals, it's only logical and fair he will be judged in return, and that it's fine this way. If that's how things work and that's the system, he won't change it, he will just pragmatically exploit it to the best of its capacities and then accept the consequences too. Once he takes a place in it and holds the reins as a King, he believes that's just how things should be. He can't conceive there is value in fighting against it and trying to change it. And he loses all reason to do so once he kills Il and discards Yona and Hak. It's too late after all, he accepted to corrupt himself in this machine to get what he wishes for. That's his illusion of control. Suwon is responsible for his own choices, beliefs and actions, and he's extremely self aware of the consequences of his own choices: he will be judged, hated, attacked and killed someday in return gods or not.

But even if he chooses this path full aware, is that really empowering? Is accepting and letting it happen really give him control when deep down what he wants is to live and to not discard the people that he hurts? Suwon thinks that's just how it is, but who truly decided that and why can't it be changed? Is it really himself, or was it heavely influenced by his environment and the people around him?

I don't mean to say that Suwon is not responsible for anything because We Live In A Society(tm), though. That'd be even more disempowering than it is. Suwon's choices were undeniably influenced by his environment and the people around him but that's how it is for everyone, and I wouldn't want Suwon to regret what he did. That's his life, and he still accomplished and experienced many good things and they're all meaningful and his too. That's why I find this very good that he says he doesn't regret killing Il because that's something he chooses. It's not so black and white. What is harmful though, is the resignation in repeating this pattern despite how it hurts him, the idea that things are fine like this if he's hurt and punished in the end. That he's never allowed to be healed and loved and happy and refusing it when he gets anything good. How that doesn't leave any room for reparation, change and hope.

And painfully, both Suwon and Zeno were progressively forced to accept how little agency and choice they truly have and to adapt, submit, to the system of the Heavens despite taking a strong stance against them. In a way, in their very declaration of rebellion against the Heavens, they were already influenced by them, as it still exists, and they position themselves in relation to them. By trying to take back control and agency from the gods (which is more than fair like, they deserve this agency!) they still mold themselves in the gears of this system, they don't truly change it, they negociate with it. Suwon by leaving it alone in the hopes of it leaving him alone too, and Zeno by walking alongside it.

Whether it's Suwon carrying on Yuhon's sword and his legacy and striking down others for his goals even if he will never be allowed to live happily in consequence, or whether it's Zeno taking Hiryuu's sword to kill himself after bringing an end to the other dragons too, it's the same. It's still taking and being taken from. Giving and being given back. It dooms them, it's self-fulfilling prophecies.

That's why even after Suwon was forced to acknowledge that the Gods have more influence than he thought and he was saved by the dragon warriors and Yona, it still very compatible with his way of thinking and the path he always followed. Even if Yona and Hak won't punish him directly anymore, ch249 with Shinah attacking him shows that the Gods will. Even without it, Suwon was still resolved to return to war and die for it. Whether it's from Yuhon, from Il, or from the Gods it's not so different in the end. Like this, the Gods validates and reaffirms the very ideology personified by Yuhon that Yona and Hak were resisting against when they tried to help and save Suwon.

For Suwon and Zeno, resisting against the Gods is still equal with accepting using a weapon that gives them a similar form of power attached to a legacy. And even if they're different, they're bound by their laws and ideologies the same.

Zeno's case is still a bit unique because he started from a very different place. His journey started with him accepting the yellow dragon's blood and powers. Even if he was later ready to go against the Gods to have his wish realized, he was still very aware of the reality of their existence and power, and how they bind him and every dragon warrior. Because of this, Zeno always tried to still get some agency. His whole quest to find a way to die is a quest to cling to humanity and free will, to be more than an empty husk living forever, not caring about anyone or anything. Yet little by little, without him realizing, they still made him compromise more and more. When he tried to assemble the dragon warriors before Hiryuu was reborn, he had to face the truth that it cannot happen without Hiryuu. He had to wait for Yona. As Zeno says in chapter 208, even with eternal time it doesn't mean it makes things happen like he thinks at all, but by accepting passively all of it and going with the tides, he waits for the one chance he can finally act and end it all for good. But even then, when he made a whole plan around it to end things himself, without Hiryuu/Yona again, it failed. Because it has to be Yona. She is the one with the authority needed.

In a way, at the point Suwon and Zeno accept/try to die, it was maybe also them trying to bring an end themselves to these cycles of taking and giving and how it burdened Yona. After all, if Suwon dies not by Yona's hand, then there's nothing Yona will have to take from him directly and she will be innocent, there is no revenge anymore, Suwon will die from an "unrelated" cause and things will be "even". Suwon seems to feel guilt over "pushing" Yona to her limits and hurting her by her being forced to support him. Whether this is also influenced by the time Il told him he's unpleasant and Suwon fearing this might be true for Yona too, in the south kai arc this was definitely his vision of it. So when Yona is conflicted between her promise to Suwon and saving her friends in ch242, Suwon "frees" her from it and gives her the chance to leave and to never return again. He pushes her away, not burdening her with his own situation anymore. If she doesn't plan to return he will even give up on making her his successor. Again, he unconsciously repeats the same pattern of not involving Yona at all, separating her from the rest.

Zeno always felt like the dragon warriors were a burden to Hiryuu, a symbol of the Gods' overwhelming love to him, giving Hiryuu too much and pushing him to give back. If he dies, this will put an end to this as well. They saw their death as the ultimate solution, their life having become an uneedeed burden and source of potential conflict. But by trying to do so they both stripped Yona of what she really wants. I would say the conflict between them and her in this arc is exactly this tension between first trying to get Yona uninvolved and ending things themselves in their latest and most tragic attempt to have one crumb of agency against the Heavens and their obsessive love for Hiryuu, and then how this has repercussions on the human Yona in how that strips /her/ of her agency. Again, Yona is fatally a victim of the consequences of a battle that shouldn't involve her, yet very much does.

Despite this attempt and all their resistance against it, Suwon and Zeno are both made to depend on Yona/Hiryuu for their most important wish. These things were also due to their very human and personal relationships with Yona, and them feeling like they can trust and rely on her more should be a positive thing to be happy about, but it tragically aligns with the Heavens' agenda, so something about it feels fundamentally wrong. After all, Suwon is made to rely on Yona this way because of how the Crimson illness weakens him, and Zeno because that's his only hope to die. This is the tragedy of Yona's fate: everything was moving forward because of her growth and positive accomplishments as Yona and her efforts to gain her own agency, but her position and the authority she always owned as Hiryuu validated even more so all the Heavens' harmful ideology. Her will and actions can't be dissociated from the higher narrative with the prophecy and the Heavens. This against shows how the conflict between her identity as Yona and Hiryuu is the source of all the tensions in this arc and the core of the entire story.

Yona always wanted more power and agency, but here it disgusts her. She doesn't want to have to kill Zeno. She doesn't want Suwon to die and to have all his responsibilities as ruler be pushed on her. She doesn't want to stain her hands herself with those maybe, but I think it upsets her also because it is against the very things she was trying to achieve for both of them so far. Her promise to Suwon was to support him until the end of the war and then they would both go back to their separate life; her goal was to get all the four dragons back and then they'll be forever together, not this either. Suwon was the one person she wanted to regain a sense of agency with, yet in consequence it's stripped away from her again because his upcoming death doesn't leave him a better choice but to make her his successor; Zeno is the person Yona wants to help regain agency and justice on his own fate, yet is made to have the authority over Zeno's entire existence however she likes. Her and Hak were trying to break these cycles of even exchange but it is maintained with a firm grip by the Heavens, and it's then all placed on Yona.

But Yona never asked for all these irrational things. These developments are what progressively made her face that there is something insidious, deeper, that needs to be changed, triggering her decision to enter the chalice and face the Gods in chapter 261. Chapter 258 also suggests that Yona wants Suwon to still be there and she makes sure Hyoori is still here for this sake. I don't know what she thinks about the Suwon situation since the illness matter is not a thing for now, but at least it makes her stance clear : she is against this fate with both of them gone and against them leaving her behind without letting her have a say in any of this.

I deviated a bit from the wounds and swords topic again, but they're all things connected to Yona too after all. They exist in relation to Yona/Hiryuu. Suwon was hurt for being an "enemy" who hurt Yona first and Zeno can only be killed by her. After all this, Yona, Hak, Suwon and Zeno all had to let go of their weapons. Yona threw Hiryuu's sword away when the Gods imposed it to her to kill Zeno in chapter 264, Hak refuses to use a weapon on Zeno like he did on Suwon when he caused his shoulder wound in chapter 2, Suwon leaves Yuhon's sword in chapter 262 as a symbol of him leaving this legacy behind to try another, different path for the very first time. But what of Hiryuu's sword now?

I wrote 90% of this before chapter 269, so the truth is now I have even more things to add because of it, except this post is already so long I'm embarassed. Maybe someday I'll add a part with developments of chapter 269. That being said what I mean with all that (that I'm afraid makes no sense and it's totally disorganized), is that their wounds and stories are connected in how whether they're related to Yona personally or her as Hiryuu, it's intertwined and the result of the same harmful ideology based on punishment and sacrifice. However, there is hope. Because Yona and Hak learned and then kept resisting against those things. They're still all struggling against the authority of the Heavens right now and there are still the issues surrounding Yona/Hiryuu's identity, but with their efforts they at least prevented these wounds from being a symbol of Suwon and Zeno's capital punishment and now they're still living to face the Gods another way. Suwon is still ill and Zeno is still immortal, but they're going beyond already, they're not submitting to legacies harming them anymore. All these parallels have an infinity of layers to them and they add so much to the story right now, but I think were truly all for what is happening now, and far more than simply being cool parallels for the sake of it. They have meaning.

Also I'm not sure if writing this under my own fanart is a good move, I feel a bit selfconscious so just to make it clear I very honestly didn't think about all that at all when I drew it. I went with the vibes and it's only afterwards that I started to try to organize my thoughts so hmm...please keep enjoying the fanart as it is :)

The price for our ambitions

[right-there-ride-on]

Lucy Steel, Karma, and 'the flow of fate': The flaw of the 'napkin philosophy'

I've stated before that Johnny, Gyro, HP and Diego stand out as the four main-ish characters of SBR. But that's neglecting to mention the true third protagonist of the part: Lucy Steel. Lucy's character is used to explore a lot of the heavier and more complex themes of SBR, including the nature of power, fortune, and even free will (as well as misogyny, to a lesser extent). I hope to touch on and elaborate what I think the text is trying to demonstrate with Lucy's story. Unfortunately there was limit to the panels I could include, so if you'd like to double check my analysis please reference the referred chapters.

Content warning for reference to events in the Both Sides Now chapters as well as Valentine's general attitude towards Lucy.

To understand what Lucy represents, we've first got to understand Lucy. So, let's take a quick look at her backstory.

Chapter 61: Both Sides Now (Part 2)

Born into a poor family, even from a young age Lucy was forced / expected to pay for the sins of her father. In those days it's no surprise that the life of a son was seen as more valuable than that of a daughter. Lucy's father decides that Lucy must be the one to pay for the family's debt. It's implied that Lucy does not protest this decision and understands her father's reasoning (even if internally she may be more upset about it than she appears). Lucy's go-to mechanism for dealing with the stress of the people around her is to 'look after them'. She repeatedly puts on a brave face in order to comfort them first. Only when she's alone does she allow herself to express her true feelings. Even the inciting incident of the Steel Ball Run race itself - a young Lucy comforting a hopeless Stephen - is demonstrative of how she always looks after the people around her.

Lucy has always been forced to bear the responsibilities of others, as the second eldest and the eldest daughter.

Chapter 61: Both Sides Now (Part 2)

Her father was either naive or unwilling to accept the consequences of what he'd done to Lucy by essentially selling her to the mafia. Stephen forces Lucy's father to recognize the reality of the situation - and as such becomes the first person we know of to demonstrably care for Lucy's well being. In my opinion, one of the reasons Lucy doesn't ever seem put off by the 'marriage' between her and Stephen is because she knows that without Stephen she would literally be dead. It was Lucy's kindness to Stephen that would influence Stephen to return to her family and save her life. This is the first (chronological) example of Lucy's complex relationship with fate and fortune.

Chapter 28: Scary Monsters (Part 1)

After witnessing Valentine's odd power in a previous scene she grows suspicious, and given the talk of murder at the time, likely worried for Stephen's safety. While attempting to assuage her suspicion she catches a glimpse of the corpse part Valentine possess, and from then on gets caught up in the larger machinations of the race. However, even this first encounter between Lucy and Valentine showcases what the dynamic will be between them as the part continues: Valentine, bombastic and ambitious, contrasted with Lucy. Lucy is meek, but her actions have an overt influence on the plot, even if none of the other characters realize her true importance until later. Her impact is subtle but pervasive, as she continually changes the entire course of the race despite never being acknowledged as a factor in play until the very end.

Chapter 36: The Green Tombstone (Part 1)

Lucy is a non-stand user, a normal person and a teenager at that, who realizes in this moment that her now peaceful life can be shattered again. Lucy is a normal person, but she is brave, and she is determined to protect the person she cares about at any cost.

Lucy clearly feels a lot of responsibility towards Stephen, and most of the time is quite a serious person. There's a lot happening internally that she can't or won't let others in on. In other scenes, we see that Steven often tells her to lighten up and act more her age, but Lucy can't let that sense of responsibility go. In the scene above, her serious nature is contrasted by her apparent flippancy towards her teacher. To avoid any questions on her intentions, she flips on the 'bored student / teenager' act - and it is just an act. As soon as she's alone, Lucy breaks down, because her strong face too is an act.

On a thematic level it's already clear that Lucy's character will be closely tied to the concept of 'fate' (most of the time represented through Valentine). Here, she is determined to avert what she suspects Stephen's ultimate 'fate' will be. She knows that she is not powerful, yet still she struggles against the overwhelming powers around her. Even with something as simple as learning lip reading, she's taking the initiative against Valentine, at a point when no other major character knows that it's Valentine they're up against. I also want to recognize her intelligence: she is totally overlooked by the President's staff (men) and uses that to her advantage to royally fuck up Valentine's plans.

Luck, or 'fortune', plays a notable role in enabling Lucy's escape from Valentine and Blackmore's pursuit. It's only by chance that Lucy is the one to look up and notice Blackmore first.

Chapter 37: The Green Tombstone (Part 2)

Lucy is forced to involve Mountain Tim in her escape - who just so happens to be in town and nearby the government building while all of this is going down.

Chapter 37: The Green Tombstone (Part 2)

We see here again Lucy's strong sense of responsbility, as well as her selflessness. Despite not knowing Mountain Tim very well, she worries for his safety. She takes burdens onto herself because she feels she must; she can't let anyone get hurt, because it's her responsibility to protect them.

However, the fickle nature of fortune is again evident in the next few scenes. As soon as Tim separates from Lucy, he's killed; meanwhile, Lucy has the good fortune of making it to the backbone before anyone else, as well as having the distance shortened for her. Even when Blackmore catches up to her, 'fortune' is again on Lucy's side, and she's able to take him by surprise and reclaim the corpse. Even this early on, the text seems to suggest that the corpse wants Lucy to posses it; in a sense it's manipulating even to ensure it's delivered (by her) to where it wants to go.

Chapter 38: Catch the Rainbow (Part 1)

Oh nothing, just Lucy being cool as fuck.

Chapter 39: Catch the Rainbow (Part 2)

Tim directed Lucy to Johnny and Gyro. They are the first people she ever asks for help (and politely, at that). Notice that Lucy isn't even necessarily asking them to help her. She's asking them, really, to help Stephen.

Chapter 39: Catch the Rainbow (Part 2) (Johnny already decided to protect Lucy <3)

Blackmore basically singles out Lucy to lecture her on 'sin' - which in this case is taking the initiative and daring to touch a corpse part.

Blackmore's monologue is based almost entirely on religious ideas, and we see again how misogyny ties into Lucy's character. Lucy is compared to an adult woman, 'Eve', and told she is the embodiment of 'sin' (often a metaphor for sexual temptation, and perhaps foreshadows Valentine's assault and views about Lucy as an object later in the part). Because she dared to do something about her situation and on her own initiative, Blackmore demands that she 'repent'.

Chapter 40: A Silent Way (Part 1) (Johnny: "Who'll come to her if she fails?" (you will mr. joestar)

Gyro, and to a lesser extent, Johnny, are unwilling to give up the race to chase after Valentine. Gyro asks Lucy plainly what she expects her life to be like if she runs away now, and if she will be happy to live the rest of her life in fear. Knowing that she will never be happy with such a life, Lucy agrees to put her life on the line and assumes the burden of stealing the corpse part from Valentine.

Chapter 48: Tubular Bells (Part 1) - as soon as Steven is out of sight she drops her brave face :(

Chapter 48: Tubular Bells (Part 1)

Lucy's intelligence is again demonstrated through her plan to get close to the President; namely, getting close to Scarlet first. It works, thanks to some outside help from HP (and I plan to do an analysis of their relationship in another analysis). However, during her conversation with HP, HP makes it clear that they are not helping her 'as a friend', but just as someone after the same goal. Lucy is, once again, on her own. HP's advice to her is to 'stiffen her resolve'.

The bottom line is that Lucy must take absolutely insane risks to get the happiness and peace she desires, and though she falters she does not stop.

Chapter 49: Tubular Bells (Part 2) - she wants out of this subplot

At the end of Tubular Bells, Lucy literally kills Scarlet (power move) and HP takes the fall for her. However, this leaves Lucy is a very precarious situation. It's during this section of the story that Lucy's connection to fate, fortune, and karma become most evident. It's through her character that the flaws of Valentine, in both his character and his philosophy, are brought to light.

Chapter 61: Both Sides Now (Part 2)

In Valentine's view, the one who acts decisively and 'takes the first napkin' is the one who will influence in the rest of the world. It's a one-way perspective; power goes outward. The one who takes the napkin determines the flow of fortune for everyone else; hence why he absolutely must be the first to take it.

Y'all know what happens in this section, so I won't go into detail. All you need to know is that this situation clarifies to Lucy is exact nature of the power she's up against, and how powerless she is in comparison. On the surface, she loses hope of 'changing fate' - though she doesn't stop fighting.

Chapter 62: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

After Lucy manages to briefly get away, she thinks to herself that Valentine is the 'Devil' - and yet despite that, ascribes the fault of the situation to herself, for her 'sin' in Kansas City (the 'sin' ascribed to her by Blackmore). While Lucy, like Johnny, thinks that Valentine might be unstoppable, she doesn't attribute that to the corpse (and thus fate / fortune) choosing Valentine; she attributes it to Valentine having evil incarnate on his side (and in a sense, he does, being gifted with a stand like D4C).

Lucy ends up captured, but in the process is 'chosen' by the corpse. Valentine takes this to mean that, because he was the one who collected the corpse, it has therefore chosen him - and that Lucy, as it's chosen host, must succumb to Valentine's interpretation of the corpse's decision. He takes away her agency and attempts to convince her that 'this is the way things are supposed to be'. Master manipulator and gaslighter. Lucy is a vessel for him to exercise his power on, via the corpse.

Chapter 71: Ticket to Ride (Part 1)

Allow me to briefly digress to talk about Tear Cutter as a stand. Some people joke that Tear Cutter is a useless stand, but the point is not that it can cut things - it's that whatever is cut is inflicted with karma. It's this 'karma' that represents Lucy's resistance to Valentine's 'napkin philosophy'.

Chapter 73: D4C (Part 6)

Valentine asserts that Lucy's only choice is to surrender herself to the 'flow'. To him, and to powers greater than herself (fate / 'the flow'). That is, Valentine's belief of what the 'flow' is. Basically, let him do what he wants and accept that she never had agency (because fate has always chosen Valentine, and it's her destiny to serve him through the corpse). This is Valentine's mistake: he sees power / fortune as a one-way flow, and believes that because he has 'taken the first napkin', he will not be subject to the power of anyone / anything else (including fate itself - because Valentine now controls fate, obviously).

Chapter 79: D4C (Part 12) - Love Train

Valentine insists that the corpse will allow him to turn even 'bad luck' into his ally - that is, to overcome the forces of karma. He's talking about karma and 'balancing things to zero', but he's still envisioning himself as someone in control of that power, and therefore as someone not subject to its laws. Through 'taking the first napkin', Valentine views himself as the one now in control of the world and puts himself in the position of God. The corpse does appear to 'ally' itself with him by incapacitating Lucy and manifesting Love Train; but is that really what's happening? Or is the truth that Valentine is just as despotic as the people he claims to hate, and has usurped her power for himself?

But as before, Lucy's resistance to the Powers that Be is subtle but impactful. But, although subtly, Lucy's 'good karma' overcomes Valentine's malintent. Her use of Tear Cutter on her skirt allows for Diego and HP, and consequently Johnny and Gyro to find her.

Chapter 73: D4C (Part 6)

Chapter 79: D4C (Part 12) - Love Train

I want to again point out the parallel between Lucy and Johnny here. Lucy too questions whether Valentine is the one that is 'just' - despite having herself called Valentine the 'devil' - because Valentine appears to be the one 'chosen' by the corpse. However, I'd like to note something: everyone in the race was after the corpse because they believed that, when completed, it would grant them the power to do whatever they wanted to accomplish. Personally, I think that perspective is the most accurate interpretation of the corpse's power. Everything Valentine says about being 'chosen' are his own delusions of grandeur.

Throughout the final act, Lucy is reduced to what Valentine sees her as: a vessel for his will, whether that be to carry his children or house the corpse. His will being imposed on her - though he claims it to be the will of the corpse - quite literally begins to tear her apart.

Chapter 72: Ticket to Ride (Part 2)

Chapter 74: D4C (Part 7)

However, although she has suffered immensely under the burden placed on her by Valentine and the Corpse, the 'good' that Lucy put out into the world (via her attempts to save Stephen) come back as 'good fortune' for her. Stephen manages to save Johnny's life by pulling Valentine away, and begs for Gyro to save Lucy from Valentine. Stephen recognizes the situation for what it is - should Lucy truly 'accept the flow' and surrender herself to Valentine, she will die in every way that's important. Karma, in the broadest sense, is again working against Valentine (though he believes himself above it).

Chapter 81: D4C (Part 14)

Stephen's actions seem to hint towards the truth - the farther Lucy is from Valentine, the healthier she gets, and the weaker Valentine becomes. What the narrative is showing is that the corpse is not a force meant to be owned by anyone. It literally kills the person it (allegedly) chooses as a host. Valentine exercising his will and power over Lucy via the corpse erased her identity and allows him to cheat, but the narrative proves that by doing so, he is committing evil and condemning an innocent girl (among many other innocents) to death.

Gyro's death is yet another example of the cycle of luck. He saved Johnny and cornered Valentine by allowing Lucy to ride his corpse, but at the same time essentially sealed his fate (because Lucy was on his horse). His fortune ran out as the corpse cycled it, taking away his 'goddess of victory'. I think this solidifies that, ultimately, there is no real way to sway fate and fortune to your side. Gyro and Valentine make up thinks like 'goddesses' because they want to believe they have some control over the outcome of events, when the truth is that the karmic cycle will affect everyone equally.

When Valentine is defeated, the corpse begins to separate from Lucy. Since we're shown that it can obviously exist without a host, this is, I think, another piece of evidence that it was Valentine's desire that caused the corpse to 'chose' Lucy. Valentine told Lucy to give in to him / the corpse several times; but Lucy's perseverance and determination won out, and Valentine's bad karma finally caught up to him.

The narrative concludes with Valentine's defeat, and tells us, without room for debate, that Valentine's belief in the 'napkin philosophy' is incorrect - because it is a philosophy that makes the assumption that an inequality of karma exists. The 'first napkin' is taken at a round table - i.e. the cycle of karma. The bad you put into the world will come back to you. If you do harm unto others, then you will inevitably have harm done unto yourself. It's the second part of the statement that Valentine rejects, and the second part of the statement that the narrative enforces by having Love Train ('one-way power') fail in the end, to the power of infinity (or, if you want to think of it another way, an infinite cycle...)

And in the end, separated from the corpse and wrapping up the last of Valentine's machinations, Lucy is able to take back control of her narrative.

Chapter 95: World of Stars and Stripes

This scene is not just Lucy reclaiming her independence and power, but the final emphasis on the nature of 'karma' and fortune (and fate). Because base!Diego pursued Lucy and the corpse, he died to Valentine. Because Valentine didn't want to lose, he brought AU!Diego to the base world. Because base!Diego died to Valentine in pursuit of Lucy, Lucy has the means to defeat AU!Diego. In a way, Valentine karmically inflicted this ending on himself, and I think Lucy understands that.

Chapter 95: World of Stars and Stripes

Please remember that AU!Diego never turns the key to the vault. Lucy does. Lucy echoes' Steven's theory, that someone need be 'qualified' to own the corpse. In my reading, I believe that the conclusion that Lucy came to was that no one can be 'qualified' to 'own' the corpse. No matter who owns the corpse, their 'good fortune' will run out - because karma finds everyone in the end. Lucy understands that the corpse cannot truly be an ally to anyone, because the corpse itself is a principle - the principle of karma. She's the one to lock away the corpse, and, almost as if in thanks for the good such an unselfish action will do for the world, Lucy finally gets her happy ending.

In conclusion: Lucy empowers herself to find happiness with her own hands. Even without a Stand, even without being chosen as an 'ally' to the corpse (and instead being designated as its vessel), Lucy succeeded. Maybe she wasn't 'qualified' - she demands no respect when she walks in a room, she doesn't exert her will onto others - but she realizes that she doesn't need to be 'qualified' to deserve a happy ending.

Chapter 37: The Green Tombstone (Part 2)

Girl of Steel ^_^

I hope this analysis is fairly coherent, it was a bit rough to put together. If you got this far, thanks for reading!

[camaelias]

Sunny Winter Day

Pairing : Grumpy Winter Soldier x Sunshine Reader

Tags : enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn Author's note : Omg, after more than a decade spent on and off this app, I finally mastered the courage to post something! Please be kind, but feel free to give feedback! especially when I make mistakes, English isn't my first language I hope you'll understand ^^ Okay so, here the story : PLOT :

In a world still reeling from Hydra’s fall and the Avengers' rise, you are a new recruit—a burst of golden light in a team still learning to trust. You have light powers. They call you sunshine, a little too soft for war, a little too bright for shadows.

You thought you were finally safe. A new world, a new life, a place among the Avengers. But danger doesn’t always knock on the front door — sometimes it smiles from the apartment across the hall. And sometimes, the one sent to destroy you is the only one who might just save you.

- Post-Avengers 1, Pre-Ultron. - Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier have never met before. In this world Bucky Barnes is not yet part of Steve’s memories. - Hydra has been publicly dismantled, but in truth, it still thrives in the shadows. CHAPTER 1: The Man Across the Hall

It had been nine months since you hit the ground like a fallen star.

Nine months of stolen moments—flashes of gold in your hands, headaches that came with no warning, dreams that didn’t belong to you. Nine months of slowly learning how to breathe again. How to stay grounded in a world that didn’t recognise you. A world that you didn’t recognise. 

The compound had become your anchor, the Avengers your unlikely, chaotic family. You were still trying to figure out why they’d take you in. You didn’t ask, you just tried to belong, and sometimes—like now, when you were curled up on the dark grey couch in your Brooklyn apartment with the window cracked open and the city humming beneath you—it almost felt like you did.

The apartment wasn’t much...a safe house, technically. Stark insisted, something about sparing you from Cap's 5 a.m. runs and training drills. It was wired to the teeth with silent alarms, unmarked from the outside, a modest apartment in an old building in a quiet bloc and it was yours. Quiet, peaceful, until it wasn’t.

The moving truck came at 7:42 a.m. sharp. Three guys, two of them chatty, one just watching.

You spotted him first from the window—standing still on the sidewalk, sleeves rolled down and a gloved left hand, sunglasses. He moved like a soldier even in civilian clothes, that was the first red flag.

The second was the way your light flared at your fingertips the moment your eyes landed on him.

It wasn’t a full glow. Just a flicker beneath the skin like a whisper. You stood back from the window and pressed your hands together until the warmth died down.

Later that day you saw him again in the hallway. Your groceries were balanced in your arms—too many for one trip, of course—and you nearly dropped a jar of strawberry jam when the door across from yours swung open with a low creak. The guy with the gloved hand closed the door behind him and gave you a big smile, his eyebrows up.

"Oh hi, I just moved in..." he saw you struggle with your bags, he took one step towards you. You looked up and there he was—closer now.

“Need a hand?”. His voice was deep but polite. Smooth. He wore a black leather jacket, a leather black glove and his hair was attached in a low bun. He had blue-gray eyes and broad shoulders, you scanned him like Nat trained you to do, taking in every detail, looking for something that could ring a bell, but nothing. He just looked like the kind of guy you’d glance at on the street, get a crush on and forget the next second.

You gave him a smile, wide and sunlit, your default defence. “Nope. Got it. Been best friends with gravity for a while now”

He chuckled, raised his hands in defence

“Just wanted to be a gentleman” he lingered for just a second before starting to walk towards the stares

“New to the building?” you asked as you were unlocking your door, voice casual, he stopped and nodded “Moved in this morning. Place is... quiet.”

“Give it time! you’ll get used to the creaky pipes and the ghost in the elevator” you looked at him as he left soft huff of amusement and for a second you almost forgot to keep your shields up. Almost

“Name’s James,” he offered. You turned back toward him, let the light in your eyes dim just enough to keep him curious, “Y/N".

A beat of silence passed. One second. Two. Then he smiled. A flicker of something dark in the curve of it, “Nice to meet you, Y/N”

You gave him one last glance, nodded, and stepped inside.

The door shut between you.

And you exhaled.

You didn’t know what was wrong, not exactly, but the energy he carried, the sharpness under the softness, the precision in his posture, the way your powers had noticed him before your brain had—it told you everything you needed to know. He was sent, and not by Amazon.

That night you called the compound. Tony groaned through the comm, “Can’t a girl have a neighbour without it turning into a mission briefing?”

“He gives me weird vibes,” you muttered, tugging off your sweater with one hand, the phone wedged between your shoulder and cheek. 

“‘Weird vibes,’” Tony mimicked “Sciencey. Precise.”

“I’m serious, Stark! My powers spiked! Like...immediately, the moment he stepped out of his apartment" you huffled as you made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning what lazy dinner you could come up with, phone in your right hand

"I didn’t even know I was on edge until he walked past me and I almost lit up like a damn...a damn glowstick!” you took a box of leftover pasta and closed the fridge, that would do it. You waited for Tony's answer, your focus back on your voice call. He was quiet but you could practically hear his neurons flashing around, then came Steve’s voice steady and warm “We’ll run facial scans. If he’s Hydra, we’ll know by morning"

And if he wasn’t?

“Mmh…okay” suddenly you were not hungry anymore, you just tiptoed to your room and you groaned as you threw yourself on the bed, staring at ceiling. You let out a sigh, long and low, the phone was still pressed to your ear, the quiet static of connection strangely comforting

“Maybe this Brooklyn apartment idea wasn’t our best call,” Steve said gently, like he was trying not to say I told you so. He never really liked the idea of you being on your own out here—not when you barely knew this world, let alone how to live in it. But Tony had insisted. You needed space, a shot at normal. You smiled, “Are you missing me already, Rogers?” you heard the low chuckle on the other end, the sound of plates clinking faintly behind him

“I just—”

“Hey, Capsticle, let the kid breathe!” Tony cut in, full of faux exasperation

“It’s not 1939 anymore. Let the young woman live her life without turning it into a military op." you could practically hear Tony’s eyes rolling. You laughed under your breath, the warmth of it curling in your chest

“Alright, alright,” you said “I’ll let you all get back to dinner. Just… let me know what the scan says?”

“Bye, sunshine!” Nat’s voice called out in the background “Don’t kill your neighbor. Yet,” Tony added

“Goodnight, sunshine,” Steve said softly “and remember, you can come home anytime”

“Oh, for the love of—” Tony groaned as the line cut off, and you shook your head, grinning to yourself.

If you didn’t know better, you’d swear those two were an old married couple. Actually, back when they first took you in at the compound, you had assumed that.

Your smile faded slightly as your thoughts drifted back to the man across the hall. The silence in your room coming down on you like a heavy blanket.

James. The name tasted strange in your mouth. 

You watched your fingers absently move through the air, tiny golden sparks trailing their motion—soft flares of light

You hated how your powers reacted to him, how it all felt… instinctual. Immediate. Like the part of you that didn’t know where it came from did know where he came from.

That part of you that had no past. No memories. No answers.

You only remembered waking up in Times Square, curled in a crater of broken concrete and flaming asphalt, surrounded by panicked screams. Your hands glowing like twin suns, a headache splitting your skull in half.

Then—chaos.Then them. The Avengers.

You hadn’t known who they were at the time. They’d shown up in a blur of suits and shields and spandex, talking fast and looking at you like you were a bomb waiting to go off.

Apparently, you’d fallen from the sky like a comet. Scared some pigeons, fried a few car alarms, and somehow that earned you a spot on the roster. You sighed again.

“If he’s Hydra,” you whispered to no one, “we’ll know by morning...”

And with that you let yourself drift—slowly, reluctantly—into a dreamless sleep. --

The thing is... James was good.

Too good.

He didn’t push, didn’t flirt too much. He had a friendly smile, a calm voice, and just the right amount of awkwardness to seem unassuming. He offered to fix your dripping kitchen tap one day, mentioned his “job working with old machines”, said he used to box. The scan that Steve ran came back negative, apparently James - James Buchanan Barnes was his full name - was a regular guy in his thirties from New Jersey. Orphan. Military background. Deployed in Russia and Romania for the last eight years, back home with a medal or something, the kind of man your parents would like you to bring home for Christmas. How convenient. 

Each time you saw him you kept the act up: warm, cheerful, just a little scattered, the girl next door who laughed easily and asked too many questions, but beneath the surface you watched him like a hawk, because there were cracks, tiny ones : the way he moved like he was counting exits, the scar that peeked from under his collar.

One afternoon, you offered him a cup of tea at yours after he helped you with groceries - he always seamed to be accidentally around when you would be carring them. Just to be polite. Just to watch him up close.

He accepted.

He stood across from you in your small kitchen, fingers wrapped around the mug like he needed to remember how to hold something without crushing it, his blue eyes scanning the pink tea towels carefully folded in the hoven’s handle, the vase of peonies you kept on the square wood table just in front of the kitchen counter, the picture of you, Nat and Clint nailed on the sage green wall. Clint had you locked in a playful headlock and Nat was smiling, shaking her head at the two of you. You loved that photo, you loved those two. 

His eyes flicked to yours once. You smiled as you leaned on the kitchen counter holding your cup of tea with both your hands close to your face, gently blowing the steam off.

“I don’t know what it is,” you said tilting your head, eyes still on him “but something about you feels... familiar.” 

His jaw tensed—just for a second. Your smile grew just a little bit bigger, slow and deliberate. You had to admit it—you liked pushing his buttons, liked seeing how far he’d stretch the lie, how steady he could keep that carefully curated calm. Because no matter what Jarvis had dug up, this man wasn’t what he claimed to be, this man was fishy. 

“Déjà vu,” he chuckled as he hid behind a sip while looking at you, little creases forming around his eyes due to an awkward attempted smile. You sipped your tea in return, tilting your head “Maybe in another life,” you offered with a shrug, your tone light.

The conversation drifted to safer waters—weather that couldn’t decide if it was spring or summer, a few TV shows you pretended to keep up with. He cracked a dry, slightly awkward joke. You laughed—just enough. Then you remembered the banana bread in the fridge, still wrapped in foil. You offered him a slice like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he accepted it with a quiet thanks.

It was... pleasant. Almost normal.

Almost.

And yet, even in that softness, even with tea in hand and banana bread on a plate, you never stopped watching him.

You didn’t know that he’d fought you weeks ago, mask on, blood dripping from his temple, your light sparking against his carefully hidden metal arm.

You didn’t know you’d spared him once already. ----

CHAPTER 2 - The Winter Soldier

[defiantinnies]

Emotional Support - Seth Milchick

chapter two

pairing: Seth Milchick x fem!reader

cw: afab reader, slowburn, there will be very minor plot changes, milchick is lowkey unprofessional and ooc as time goes on, eventual sexual content and violence, not proofread

summary: Days in the MDR office are long. The lovely thing about them is him. And your co-workers. Definitely also your co-workers.

The transition from outie to innie in the elevator is definitely… disorienting. In a blink, you exist again. Your shoulders are stiff. Your hands are folded behind your back, yet you weren’t the one who put them there. At some point, you’ll get used to it, you used to think. More than 150 awakenings later, and you still haven’t.

It’s impossible to describe what it feels like, the time when your outie takes over. Because it doesn’t feel like anything. It’s so odd, something you’ll never be able to wrap your head around—how you could be entering the elevator to leave one moment, and enter the severed floor to start a new day the next. But you’re not tired. You’re not hungry. Nothing like that.

You walk through the halls, towards the office, wondering what today will bring. Maybe today you can officially greet Helly R. and get on her good side. If they stick to tradition, she’ll have her welcome party today. Less work, more interaction. You can’t decide if you like that or not.

One thing you’re sure you hate is the ball game they have you play. Actual conversation would be better, certainly much more engaging than one new person finding out how long you’ve worked here. Why do people need to know your favorite thing about the job? How you are one of the quickest refiners in MDR? You are sure nobody cares about such things.

There is less work though, which is a plus. You must be behind on the quota, though, given all the distractions in the last two days. Maybe Milchick will come talk to you again. You have been reconsidering that wellness session.

The trek to the office comes to an end. The grass-green carpet lightens with every step closer to your cubicle. Dylan is already there, while Mark and Helly chat in the storage closet. Irving should be arriving soon.

“Morning,” Dylan greets, already working on a file. You offer a tight-lipped smile in return, pulling out your chair and sitting down.

You boot up your computer, tapping your fingers lightly against the desk while you wait. In the meantime, Mark and Helly emerge from the storage closet. You exhale, roll your shoulders back, and click into your file. On the screen, numbers appear, shifting all around in patterns you’ve come to recognize. A familiar pair of polished shoes enter your periphery before you hear him.

“Good morning,” Irving says.

Dylan nods. “Morning, Irv.”

You offer yet another tight-lipped smile and go back into your work. Soon enough, you focus your attention to the endeavors of your fellow refiners.

Across the cubicle, Mark has already settled himself under Helly’s desk, adjusting the wiring on her monitor. Dylan, meanwhile, has taken on the role of self-appointed guide. He gestures towards his workspace, already launched into his monologue that you have been tuning out as you work.

“My current file’s called ‘Tumwater’, which I started some weeks back. ‘Tumwater.’ All one word.”

Helly tilts her head, flipping through a guidebook. “Should I be taking notes?”

Mark, still under the desk, answers before Dylan can. “No.”

Dylan continues, gesturing at the trinkets lined on his desk and in his drawers. “I’ve got 96 percent sorted, which means I’ve earned four of the five tier incentives, including the erasers and the finger traps that you see displayed here.”

Helly squints at them, unimpressed.

“100 percent is tier five,” Dylan explains. “That gets you a caricature portrait. You’ll note I’ve accrued an embarrassment of wealth in that regard.”

“Wow,” Helly deadpans.

Dylan is satisfied. “Correct.”

You barely register the exchange, already immersed in the patterns on your screen. Woe, frolic, dread, malice. Your fingers twitch toward the keyboard, eliminating each new threat you notice. Then—

“Hello, Refiners.”

Mr. Milchick’s voice cuts through the room, smooth and practiced. Neatly arranged bowls and plates of variously colored melons sit in a cart he has pushed in alongside him.

Dylan perks up. “Ooh, sweet. Melon bar.”

You glance up to see Milchick standing near the entrance, hands clasped in front of him.

Irving stands. “Hi, Mr. Milchick,” he says. You admire his dedication.

Milchick smiles at him, and his gaze flickers to Helly. “Helly, welcome.” His smile widens. “I’m agog at how well I can tell you’re already fitting in. The office feels whole.”

“Now, let’s get this party started.” He continues.

The ball game begins as it always does. Milchick picks up the ball, tossing it lightly between his hands before rolling it towards Irving.

Irving catches it smoothly, sitting up straight with the ball in his lap. “Well, my name is Irving, as you all know. I’ve worked here for three years, and something about me is that… I know all nine core Lumon principals.”

“Awesome.” Milchick grins. “What's your favorite?”

Irving pauses, as if caught off guard by the question. “All nine,” he says, “but today… I think I'd say… cheer.”

He ends his sentence with a smile.

“Great.” Milchick replies with a nod.

Irving rises from his chair and steps to the center of the circle of chairs. He places his hands over his chest, holding the ball, and lets himself fall backwards. Milchick rises swiftly to catch him before he can fall any further.

“Uh-oh, no trust fall today, Irv,” he remarks.

“Oh. Right.” Irving sits back down. He shifts his body towards Helly, who silently begs him not to give it to her. But he does, with a stifled chuckle after it makes its way to her feet.

Helly looks at the ball, then up at the circle of faces around her, her eyes flicking from one person to the next. She exhales slowly, clearly still processing it all. “Hello, I’m… Helly,” she begins, her voice uncertain. “I’ve been at Lumon for... about ten hours total. And, uh... I’m sorry, I don’t really know much about myself.”

Milchick’s smile remains unchanged. He chuckles. “Oh, sure you do, Helly.” He passes the ball back to her.

She hesitates, then looks to Mark, then Dylan. “I really don’t. I guess I went home last night, but I don’t know if home is a house or an apartment, or if I live with a family…”

Dylan shrugs. “I like to think my outie lives on a riverboat. Seems... peaceful.”

Helly has visible confusion written on her face. "I'm sorry," she says slowly. "Outies are...?"

Mark nods. "They're us. On the outside."

Right. She had seen her own outie just yesterday, in the video that confirmed her consent for this job.

"Right," she says, exhaling. "I actually have a few things to say to her. Can I record something back?"

Irving chuckles, shaking his head. Helly just stares.

"What you'll find here is that communication between selves is pretty curtailed." Milchick says. Still smiling. Like always.

Helly sighs, her frustration growing. "So what if I write her a note?"

"Fortunately, the elevators are equipped with something called code detectors. So messages can't be passed through.”

"Yeah," Mark adds. "They're like metal detectors, but for written symbols. A Lumon original, apparently."

Milchick nods at his words. “That’s right, yeah.”

Helly sighed, her frustration growing. "Okay, well what if I—"

"I don't think you're quite getting the game here, Helly," Milchick interrupts gently. "May I?"

She hesitates, then nods, handing him the ball.

Milchick turns to the group. "Guys, this is Helly," he announces. "She's thirty years old, she's allergic to almonds, and has weak enamel. At five foot six, she's the fourth tallest person in your office, and her hair is what we call shoulder-length."

The others nod along, feigning interest. Helly’s jaw tightens.

"And seeing her here with all of you," Milchick continues, his eyes tracking against all of the refiners, voice softening just slightly, "I'd say she most definitely has a family."

Then, he passes the ball to you. You pick it up, resting it on your lap, then look at Milchick, who gives an encouraging nod.

“My name is Y/N. I’ve been working at Lumon for about seven months now… and one thing about me is that I was named fastest refiner last quarter.”

You quickly pass the ball to Mark.

“Never gonna stop gloating about that one, are you?” He teases. You shrug back. Mark clears his throat, shifting in his seat as he grips the ball. “Uh, so I'll just say that I'm Mark,” he begins. “Been with Lumon about two years, and I absolutely love this game.”

Milchick raises a eyebrow, a smirk forming on his face. “Uhh, nice try pal, but you said that last time.”

Mark groans playfully, pointing the ball at Milchick like he didn’t think he’d catch that. “Fair enough.” He exhales. “Well, I, um…” He hesitates, glancing at the floor before looking back up at the group. “I broke protocol this morning.”

You sit up slightly. You did notice something was missing from your desk this morning, but you couldn’t quite place what it was.

Mark shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I was dusting the old group photos, the ones with Petey,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “And it just… made me feel sad.” He pauses. “And, I guess, worried that I won't be able to run MDR like he did.”

Dylan nods. “That tracks. I have similar worries.”

Mark glances at him, exhaling through his nose. “So I… took 'em from the cubicles and put 'em in the storage closet,” he admits. “Which we're not supposed to do.”

Irving straightens in his seat. “I recall this. I objected.” You must have tuned out when he did, because you don't remember him doing so.

Milchick nods once. “Thank you for telling me, Mark.” His tone is nearly understanding. “I actually find your reaction sweet.” He tilts his head slightly. “Though, it is puzzling you have an outburst like this for Petey, and not for, say, Carol D.”

Mark shakes his head. “But we knew Carol D. was leaving beforehand. I mean, her outie filmed a thank-you. Petey was just… gone.” His voice wavers slightly. “And I mean, I... I don’t know if he's at some new job or drunk on a beach, or dead…”

“That’s enough, please,” Milchick interjects firmly. The room falls into a deafening silence. “I think this is a good time to remind ourselves that things like deaths happen outside of here. Not here.” His gaze sweeps across the group, his ever-present smile tempered with something sterner. “A life at Lumon is protected from such things.”

You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he steers the conversation back into Lumon’s carefully crafted narrative.

“And I think a great potential response to that from all of you is gratitude,” Milchick adds, his warm grin returning in full force. “I also think that melon isn't getting any tastier.”

And suddenly you’re up. But you don’t head towards the melon bar like the others. Milchick lingers near his seat as everyone walks away before heading over to the opposite corner of the room, where a camera already sits. Seriously, when did all this stuff start appearing? You need to pay attention more, you think. You take the opportunity to catch up to him, clearing your throat lightly.

"Mr. Milchick," you say, keeping your tone even. He turns, slowing his pace and letting you walk alongside him.

His eyebrows are raised in mild curiosity. "Yes?"

You gesture toward the table. "You’re not getting any melon?"

He chuckles lightly. "I’ve had my fill," he replies. "Besides, I think the team deserves their moment with it."

You smile. "Big of you."

He tilts his head slightly, amused. "I try."

There’s a brief pause, the hum of conversation from the group filling the space. He begins touching around at the camera, probably fixing the settings or something. "Are you feeling better today?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Ready to get back to work."

"Good," he says smoothly, leaning down to look into the camera. “I like a well-run floor."

Before the conversation can stretch any longer, he claps his hands together, turning back to the room.

"Okay, refiners! Let’s get this new group photo before the melon bloat sets in!”

Mark chuckles off in the distance. The five of you haul off a short distance in front of the camera. You settle yourself next to Irving, clasping your hands together and placing them in front of your crotch.

“All right. Great big smiles. Remember, you're gonna be looking at this every day.” Milchick’s voice rings out with practiced enthusiasm. “Say gratitude!”

“Gratitude!” all but Helly respond in unison.

“Say cheer!”

“Cheer!” all but Helly echo back. Suddenly, Helly disconnects herself from Mark's side and walks over to her desk.

Milchick’s expression shifts to one of confusion. “Helly? What are you doing?”

All attention is on her as she writes something on a sticky note. “Oh, I... I just think I’m not gonna work here anymore. Sorry.”

Mark follows her. “What do you mean?”

Helly shoves the sticky note in front of his face. “I quit.” She marches to the door.

“I don’t wanna do the file-sorting thing,” she continues, her voice steadier now. “Or the never-seeing-the-sun thing or the disappearing-friends thing. I just don’t want any of it.”

“We told you there’s code detectors.”

Helly scoffs. “Do you know that? Have you tried? Because frankly, it sounds made up.” She exits the office.

Milchick shoots Mark an expectant look, making him chase after her.

You, Dylan, and Irving all glance at each other.

“I was a little freaked my first week. Didn’t do all this though,” Dylan mutters.

“Maybe it’s different for ladies,” Irving says.

Then they look at you.

“I didn’t do anything like this either.” You respond.

“Alright. I want you all to get back to work. The melon bar will remain until lunch time, so eat up.” Milchick says. You can hear the disappointment in his voice—how things didn’t go how he expected them to.

You quickly get back to work, like he instructed. Your file waits for you. You cannot help but think about Milchick, however. He is such a dedicated worker. There’s a part of you that admires his commitment, just as you do Irving’s. Because, deep down, you resent what you are. What you all are. No matter how many times you try to suppress it, there is a quiet but persistent malice in your heart toward the company. You were made to serve, to work, to exist for the benefit of something greater than yourself, and you hate that.

And yet, alongside that malice, there is something else. Something lighter. Frolic, as the old Lumon handbook describes it. The two seem to coexist in you, entwined, inseparable. You can loathe this place and still find joy within it. There is love in your heart, too. A deep affection for your co-workers, for Milchick. Even if you aren’t exactly sure what his first name is.

There’s something else lurking in your thoughts when you’re with him. You cant quite seem to name it. It’s something between woe and frolic, between dread and malice, tangled up in a way that makes no sense. It is a sensation that creeps in like an error in a file, something misplaced, something that shouldn’t be there. It twists in your stomach, warming and gnawing at the same time, leaving you restless in your chair.

It’s not like the easy fondness you have for Dylan’s jokes or Irving’s lectures. No, this is different. Sharper. There’s an unease to it, like standing too close to something dangerous, something you should fear, but don’t. You think of the way Milchick moves, precise and controlled, his presence a constant, steady force. The way his voice commands the room, firm but never cruel. The way his eyes settle on you sometimes, just a second too long, and the way your pulse stutters when they do.

Whatever the feeling is, it doesn’t belong. Focus on something else. The weight of your breath, the sound of footsteps against the floor, the way the light shifts in the room. Anything but this. Keep typing, keep steady. If you don’t acknowledge it, maybe it’ll disappear.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha

I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.

I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.

It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.

Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?

And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.

The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.

These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?

Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.

The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.

After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.

[jeoncopi]

bruh. how come nobody has ever called me out for taking too long into uploading something? 😭 if I was following myself, I would’ve asked like “girl where tf are your stories?” lmaoosjsjsj

[le-agent-egg]

This is not me hating but is it ok if I ask how come you think THH is badly written?

Don’t worry about it! Personally for me, I really dislike how many of the characters were treated, especially with the first character (how Leon and Sayaka weren’t given proper time to develop, how Makoto in my opinion does seem a bit flat in terms of personality, how the writers killed Leon and Sayaka off first because they were sick of drawing them). The second chapter also irks me with how they treated Toko’s DID and Chihiro’s gender, though I will admit a lot of stuff in game with Mondo and Taka’s relationship was actually pretty well written and honestly really cute. And I think Sakura’s death was honestly (in my opinion) one of the best parts of the game, though this could just be because I love Sakura.

This is just a personal gripe but I feel like post chapter two the game gets almost slow, especially with killing Taka off before he got any development and Celeste’s really weird motive. Plus I wish the fifth trial was just a little more interesting, and that some of the survivors like Hina, Hiro, Byakuya and Toko got a little more time to shine in game. I’m happy they got expanded on in other media, I just wish THH (especially the latter half) wasn’t so Kyoko and Makoto centric.

By no means am I saying THH is completely terrible! Believe me, I love it and I love the characters, I just really wish everyone got expended upon in game more. That’s just my opinion, and obviously I’m missing out on a lot of both good and bad things in this post. (I’m very sleep deprived rn haha) Just to summarize I think it’s writing could have been really improved if everyone got just a bit more screen time!

(I do yap a little more in the tags, mostly just about 1-1 and 1-2)

[calcichel]

Ohh gosh. Well, Taylor of course (which I may eventually speak at length on), but other than her:

Primary Characters:

Tattletale [I really wish we'd gotten a lot more time in Interludes with her. I love her power. And I also have Opinions about Smugbug that I may or may not be able to articulate at some point.]

Aisha [Starts charming and only gets better. By the end, I'm wishing we could spend sooo much more time with her. Both because she's funny and clever and because we really missed out on some moments. We should have seen the Undersiders grieve Brian, I think.]

Dragon [Fucking DRAGON. Augh she's so cool. Every moment spent with her, my face is doing this -> 😍]

Bonesaw [Actually, I'm pretty ambivalent about her as a character. But her power. I can't help but enjoy that she exists. (I am partial to gore and body horror.)]

Golem [The short time that we get to spend with this guy... I dunno, I don't know that I have much to say about him, but in the chapters we spend with him, his emotional space always ended up being something of a comfort to me. ]

Auxiliary Characters:

Accord [His neuroses are so familiar to me that reading through his eyes was extremely satisfying. He died way too early.]

Cody [I love Arc 17, and I also really like the choices made about the role he plays later on. I don't love Cody as a person, obviously, but he is so well-developed as a character, and so much more emotionally "real" than many of the other antagonists in the story, and is just such a disaster of a human being.. I don't know, I was just always enjoying watching him crash and/or burn whenever he was on screen.]

I'm pretty sure there are other characters that I'm going to regret not taking note of here, but these are the ones that come to mind right now. It's also kinda funny to think about these characters and others and wish we could spend more time with them, simply because Worm is so long that I would expect there to be too much time spent with everyone. But that's not how it worked out - the scale of it is such that several character arcs and plot threads had to be truncated in order to fit everything in. Alas!

Oh, I forgot to mention I finished Worm.

[wonkyjaw]

I have finished this edit and have sent it to Emily and I’m already dying. It’s the first time she’s been actively into something I’ve written. It’s 3 am. She’s sleeping.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

was not expecting asahina wakaba and her chubby chubby boyfriend to have literally anything in common with dear sa-chan but here we are ig

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[real-life-cloud]

I hit 13k words on my shinsou fic last night C: !!

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"I bet on losing dogs"

ok this is like my first time actually writing anything EVER, and I don't know how to work tumblr or make this aesthetic so bare with me pls!! I keep seeing yandere batfam x neglected reader and I have had so many ideas so I'm giving this a shot! The reader is referred to with female pronouns but you can imagine it different if you want :) Reader is 2 years older than Damian and is 15 at the start of the story. Damian is 13. Dick is around 10 years older than reader, making him 25 right now. Jason is 8 years older than reader, making him 23. Tim is 2 years older than reader making him 17. Cass is 4 years older than reader and is 19. Stephanie is 3 years older than reader and is 18. Barbra is around 8 years older, making her 23! Bruce is around 35-40ish??? All just kinda guesses to make the plot and dynamics more clear, lmk if you have any questions!!

This is the prolouge and it kinda sucks so pls be nice. Hearts and comments are appreciated. If it's bad ignore it, english isn't my first language. Chapter one:, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

You couldn't understand it. You aren't a bad kid, so why were you treated like one? Why did your father treat you like the bane of his existence? Why did your older brothers see you as nothing more than dirt at the bottom of their shoes, a ghost in the manor, a blemish on their picture perfect family of misfits. You tried so so hard to fit in, to be part of the family. You wasted 11 YEARS of your life trying to get noticed, doing activities and hobbies you hated in the hopes of striking conversation with your "siblings". Batman, Bruce Wayne, your "father", ignored you no matter what. He ignored you like it was his job, from the day you came to the manor on your fourth birthday, your mother's death day, to today, your 15th birthday. You saved his life, his and all those other ungrateful losers who you used to call family. Yesterday, you put you life on the line for them, got bitten by that damn snake for them, and they ignored you and told you to walk it off while coddling the girl who suddenly appeared. Never again would you help them, nor would you brush off their mistreatment, not after this betrayal. Not after they took in another girl, a girl your age, the girl who took credit for your heroic act, the girl who bullied you for years at Gotham Prep, the girl who made your life living hell, and called HER family. They choose Tiffany Maverick to be their supposed savior, they would never believe you had the bravery to help them. They chose her to be Tiffany Wayne and scorned you.

You did nothing wrong, from the day you came to the manor you were perfect. Straight A's, no attitude, no complaints and no demands. All you did was try, try, try, and they never noticed.

Richard "The Dick" Grayson, as you and your friends call him, was the world's best big brother to everyone, except you of course! He was your first brother, he was the kid that Bruce Wayne actually wanted to take under his wing. You were 5 and he was 15, he was busy being Robin and then Nightwing. Alfred assured you that Dick adored you, you were his baby sister after all, he was just busy! In later years you realized he was only busy when it came to you. He made time for Damian no matter what, always attended Cassandra's ballet recitals, chatted with Tim and ruffled his hair, and he even dealt with Jason's snarky attitude and biting remarks. Yet, somehow when it came to you, he never had time. Always brushing you off with a shoulder pat and a "Maybe next time sweetheart!" and rolling his eyes when he thought you weren't looking. He's been making time for Tiffany or Tiffybear, as he loves to call her while pinching her cheeks and calling her his favorite little sister, "Don't tell Cass though!" he'll whisper to her. You don't even think he can remember your name. Or that once upon a time you were his "baby bird."

It makes you sick watching her take credit for everything, she's only been in the manor for 6 months and they've all given her more love than they have to you in the past 11 years. She took credit for all your awards, she told everyone she was top of your class, made them "homemade" cakes and muffins. It was all you. She stole everything.

Jason Todd, the red hood, was so mean to you. You used to admire him, looked up to him, and he took all your kind words and gestures for granted and spit them back in your face. Once upon a time, he was your favorite brother, you wanted to be as confident and unshakeable as him, it didn't matter how mean he was now because he was you brother and you loved him. The bond you had before his death was something you couldn't let go of, he was the only one who loved you. When he first came to the manor he was 12 and you came a couple months later. An adorable 4 year old who followed her favorite brother like a duckling. You were 7 when he died. You were 12 when he came back to haunt Bruce and Dick and Tim. You chased after him and tried to resurrect the bond you had for 3 long years. You gave up when you saw them. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw him and Tiffany sneaking out the manor on a school night, you almost threw up when you saw him strap her on his motorcycle and leave for hours. They came back with shit-eating grins and cupcakes for everyone from a 24hr bakery, everyone except you. The bakery you asked him to take you to months ago. Tiffany saw the tears in your eyes and your clenched fists and she laughed.

Timothy Drake-Wayne, you first saw him after Jason died. Tim, in your 10 year old mind, was trying to steal your dad. Bruce ignored you even more after Jason's death and shut everyone out. Your bond with Tim was non-existent no matter how hard you tried. After you realized he wasn't trying to replace Jason, and saw how he was helping your father heal in ways you couldn't, you tried to bond with him. You attempted to play his video games and ignored his complete disintrest in you and anything that had to do with you in hopes he might come to appreciate you. You brought him coffee after long patrols, asked him about his day, asked to meet his friends, you picked up all his hobbies like hacking, cooking, reading even martial arts and yet he ignored you. You tried to find him in hallways at school, only to be treated like a stranger when you found him. He was embarrassed that you were his sister. You were chubby and awkward and didn't have many friends, he didn't want his cool kid friends to know you were his sister. For 5 long years you chased after him, for 5 years you chased a ghost, and somehow Tiffany captured his attention using one of the gadget-thingys you made in hopes to impress him. She walks the hallways of Gotham Prep with him, a perfect sibling duo, he even had her lunch moved so she could sit with him and his friends. He wasn't embarrassed of her. You watched them get closer in 6 months than you have in 5 years. And it hurt.

But perhaps what hurt most is her newfound bond with Damian. Your baby brother. You tried the hardest with Damian, almost as hard as you tried with Bruce, and yet he chose her while all you got was a sword to your neck and sneers of disgust thrown your way. Damian moved in when you were 12. You were elated, if you couldn't have good older siblings, at least you could be one! That plan went to hell when you realized Damian saw you as less than him. No matter how hard you tried, returned your love with disgust. You tried to show him around school like you wished Tim did for you and he called you " A waste of space and Wayne DNA" and said that there was no way you were of "Wayne" blood and that your "whore of a mother" had to have deceived his father, in front of your two friends and half the school. You could've handled his cruel words if he didn't begin attempting to duel you to become your father's heir. About a year ago, when you tried to hug him he threw you down the stairs and you broke your ankle, you stopped trying with him after that. He was so possessive over Bruce and now that somehow transferred to Tiffany too. You'd feel bad for her if she wasn't eating his obsession with her up.

Barbra, Cassandra, and Stephanie were the "It girls." All practically sisters, they hung out almost everyday and had sleepovers every Friday. They giggled about boys, hook-ups, missions and bonded over everything. You wanted be one of them, you tried so hard to be cool, to be pretty, and they could only see your flaws. You curled your hair and did your nails in hope you would blend with them, you even attempted to be Batgirl at one point. You were quickly denied after Stephanie pointed out that you didn't have the right 'physique' for it. Barbra quickly agreed and said you weren't cut out for it, Cassandra simply looked you up and down. Thats why it hurt extra when they welcomed Tiffany with open arms. Suddenly, she could be Batgirl. She talked to them about boys and bonded with them over girl things. She stole your sisters.

You figured out Tiffany was a spy almost as soon as she came into the manor. Her apperance and ability to act like it was her who saved the Bats from the Joker and his new radioactive snake was not a coincidence, neither was her becoming a vigilante only two weeks after coming into the manor, and neither was you catching her walking out the Batcave with arms full of Batman's weapons and plans. You couldn't believe your luck and pulled out your phone to take a picture, too bad you left the flash on. Tiffany quickly noticed you and tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding when Bruce came into the hallway. You beamed at the sight of him and began to explain what you saw Tiffany doing, only Tiffany was faster. She was quick to blame you for everything, and Batman, the world's greatest detective believed her. She said that you bullied her at school and you were so jealous of her joining the family that you went to steal plans and took pictures to frame her. It was a shitty lie and somehow everyone believed it. You still remember the cold indifference on Bruce's face, the sadness on Alfred's, the look of pure delight on Damian's, the shock on Dick's, the interest on Tim's and the disappointment and disgust on Jason's. Something shifted in you that night. You didn't feel an overwhelming amount of love and longing when you looked at your family, you felt anger. Pure unadultered rage, rage at Bruce for never loving you, rage at Dick for being a liar, rage at Jason for throwing away your bond and cool indifference and disgust at the rest of them.

Maybe that's why your abilities finally formed. Maybe thats why the place the snake bit you that fateful night began to glow as you cried in your bathtub, after being scolded all night and getting body slammed by Damian for trying to "taint his dear sister's image". You had powers now, the agility of a snake, you could eject venom out of your fingertips, you could walk on walls, now you could prove them all wrong.

okayyyy yall this was the prolouge. Again this is my 1st attempt at writing so be nice. If enough people like this I'll put out part one. Hope yall enjoyed and lmk what you want to happen next in the comments!!!!!!!!!

[longagoitwastuesday]

I don't know how I got here, but I've stumbled upon the chapter "The thesis of Aramis" and after reading it I must admit that unfortunately I want him carnally.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 

Fuck. 

You’re spooning Ghost. 

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 

“Don’t.” He says quietly. 

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 

Unaware of the danger. 

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 

The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 

There’s no way they don’t know about it. 

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 

“You alright, love?” 

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 

That won’t stop some alphas. 

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 

Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 

“My dad was a real asshole.” 

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 

“Simon.” 

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 

“My name. It’s Simon.” 

NEXT ->

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[nefastnefertiti]

WHY CHAPTER 431 OF MY HERO ACADEMIA SCREAMS CENSORSHIP

First let's start by the "afterword", the note Horikoshi left after 430 and before the extras, chapter 431.

Original japanese for those who understand.

The best traslation I found and most people are agreeing with.

Key sentences are:

1.The real final chapter is 429, 430 is more like a curtain call.

2. PS: For chapter 431, I turn off the cameras and free the characters from their dramas.

This note being left after 430 and before the extras is so important. . The clarification of "the real final chapter is 429" and 430 is the curtain call is screaming: the show has ended here. This is further stated by "i turn the cameras off" by the man who use to refer himself as the camera man, I leave you with an example.

(They're talking about Vol 37 cover)

And back to point number 2: "and free the characters from their dramas", which could perfectly be understood as "the characters are no longer tied to their previous plots and drama" no longer connected to the main story.

It may seem like a reach until here, we're just trying to convince ourselves that's not canon, right? They´re delusions, right?

The problem is how far away everything about 431 antagonizes the whole story, the characters doesn't feel like themselves, they even regress back all their development, the drawing style looks totally different and there are many irregularities that call for our attention.

Dabi, 431 and by Horikoshi

Toga and Ochaco in 431:

Toga and Ochaco by Horikoshi:

All Might's signature for Katsuki (Horikoshi would never mess this up):

Kirishima with 6 fingers lol, Horikoshi loves drawing hands, he would never.

Katsuki's odd teeth what the fuck. (His hand looks good to me)

Ochaco and Shoto just look, weird. It's clearly not Horikoshi's art style.

And this awful background (center) was the main giveaway.

Horikoshi's backgrounds are so professional:

At this point I'm getting tired since the difference is astounding, don't believe me, just check the manga.

I don't think Horikoshi would've allowed those mistakes had he have a role in the making, maybe he did, there's no saying about that, but clearly if he did his involvement was very low.

Character's development wise now.

Seriously? "Deku"? And Katsuki complaining for picking him up. He cried his eyes out when Izuku lost his quirk and now he's back at season 1?

Izuku would never in a million years turn down that offer. And if he did, it would never be like this, so devoid of emotion and empathy.

430 showed us an Izuku aiming for his dreams again and at 431 this Izuku ¿? It's okay with being a teacher? Ok. And if that's not the problem, why he outright rejects Katsuki out of nowhere? When their rivalry was one of the main points of the plots for 430 chapters and now just um over? Without justification? Ok.

Ok.

Now specifically about that ship canonization and bkdk.

Horikoshi has been doing this for 10 years. The choices he took the whole manga were incredibly intentional, all those romantic tropes given to bkdk, his interviews, all stand in direct opposition to what happened in this last chapter.

I, myself, don't know much about Jump but what I've heard is they end lot of shonens with the same heterosexual formula. I don't think all of this is a coincidence.

Something really important that needs to be adressed to is what happened back in June (I think), when suddenly MHA announced it was ending in 5 chapters could've something to do with this. The manga was suddenly rushed to its ends with unsatisfying resolutions and as if that was not enough, one month later (at most) the same happened to JJK and all of this came accompanied by a switch of one of the heads of Jump.

About 431 again though.

I was just thinking what would I do if I was pressured to write something that ruins the biggest project of my life and goes against everything I was hoping for? Refuse. Tell them to write it themselves. If I can't do anything to stop it and it'll be there, alright, but I WON'T DO IT.

And I think this could be Horikoshi's case.

I've never seen a shonen manga come so close to implying his male protagonist and his male deuteragonist are in love before. Yes, it was not EXPLICIT but it was so fucking clear if you knew how to read, all the way up to 430. All those cliches tropes he gave them, he knew, we know.

I thought I'll die trying to explaineverything that seems wrong with this with nothing to back me up but the fact that he added that note is clear for me. I'm surprised they allowed him to publish it, I thought we wouldn't even have that.

PS:

It's interesting this being posted the same day 431 comes out. Also "heroaca is pretty dark, huh?"

I'll not go into this anyways because it's kind of a reach but the conclusion is: I think it's a "soft" censorship and Horikoshi did his best to relay his message given what he had.

Thanks for reading!