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iaintyourbro · 3 years ago

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The Unknown Journey Continues

Part 1

I know it's been a while... but I've been going down a rabbit hole with @starlight-samurai regarding time loops, Jenova, Minerva, and more fun. So I figured I'd try to put it into one post to get the insanity out of my head. Everything in here is based on things we've found by either going through more obscure Ultimanias, learning more about Dirge of Cerberus and trying to decipher what the hell Jenova is by putting together various sources - including other Square Enix games - and how they handled freakishly similar scenarios.

Did you know there is a companion mobile game for it that was out on the good old flip phones? Did you know there was an online mode in Dirge of Cerberus only available in Japan, but had story elements that were not in the main game?

The sad part is, there's still so much to go through...

(I've also had various discussions with @ourfinalheaven, Manu, who doesn't have Tumblr, so here is her Twitter. and Somebody's Nightmare (here is her Twitter). So I wanted to tag them here, as it's much more fun to discuss these ideas as a group, since it'll only help you build on and strengthen your own ideas.)

Please be aware, there will be Spoilers for FFVII - Almost all Compilation titles, Xenogears, and NieR Automata throughout this.

So let's go on a journey where we explore what actually already exists in the compilation - including the idea of the whispers and timeloops - how Minerva may play into everything, and what exactly Jenova is capable of doing.

I asked Sesi if he'd ever played any of the NieR games, because he'd said something that made me wonder if they were going to take a similar approach. As a very, very quick high level summary: NieR Automata deals with a time loop type of idea. The androids will be rebooted and repeat the same things over and over again. This is broken when 2B is killed by A2 because she becomes infected with a virus. That being said, you have the option after Ending E to either erase all of your data and end the cycle OR you can try again. The Pods have a discussion, and one asks, "But won't they just do the same thing again?" and the other replies with "Maybe. But it could also be different this time."

Here's Sesi's message back to me when I asked him about this (cleaned up a bit since we were having a casual conversation over Discord):

Maybe I could just guess based comparatively on the Dirge storyline, because that was sort of SE's first flirtation with “robots and androids” since they’re all programmed and locked behind like task managers and shit that can shut them down. The story of the online mode for DoC that came out in Japan, we never got to see it, you’re basically an Android OC and you have to get to “the end of the level” and then essentially die, and a new one takes its place. This keeps happening until Weiss is essentially freed from being able to be task managed by the guys who are suppose to be able to control them and I know from tons of years with Square games that they’re verrrrry bad at differentiating their narratives they tend to just keep “ripping themselves off” so is it anything close to that?

Cuz if so I think I kinda know what you’re saying and yeah, I agree, I think with CC bringing in its poetic symbolism and LOVELESS, and DoC bringing back the cyclic nature of the lore, whispers, premonitions and future visions, proto-Materia and the perversion of this next cycle since the planet can no longer cleanse and protect itself and its will is weakening lesser and lesser to the point where it’s fate is “in a true sense of jeopardy This time essentially it’s all tied in together and sort of played as though it's a fated track; a cycle of events and something has hitched it, thus the whispers manifesting and Sephiroth's higher implied control over his destiny. Of course, even all that is just their new red herring game, but it’s definitely a part of the lore they want to play with, in order to go back and reMAKE the OG with the comp inserted from inception. Also gut punch a lot.

Time Loops

I was somewhat surprised to find out that this concept is NOT new to FFVII's universe. It's discussed in Dirge of Cerberus... probably one of the least played and least understood of the compilation. (Trying to sell a third person shooter with terrible controls to a market of mostly people used to turn-based combat wasn't going to go well.)

On top of it, we didn't even get all of it, since online mode was never released outside of Japan, and the Dirge of Cerberus Lost Episode was on Amp'd Mobile and Verizon flip phones back in 2006. Were you around for the cell phones in 2006? I had the ones on the list, and how somebody could play a game on those blows my mind.

Square has a tendency to reuse themes from their other titles. Probably one of the most blatant is the similarities between Xenogears and Final Fantasy VII. They were both being developed at the same time and a lot of ideas that didn't make it into FFVII ended up in Xenogears.

NieR

So how does this work? In NieR (both Replicant and Automata), you play the same path multiple times. Each time, it's slightly different depending on what side quests you did your first and second playthrough, but there's also other subtle differences throughout the story. In Automata, you get to play as 2B your first playthrough and 9S for your second. They follow the same path, but you get it from his perspective the second time and it reveals a bit more of what is going on. However, even with some slight differences, the main plot points stay the same and the ending result it also the same.

Then on your third playthrough, you wake up in the Bunker, and you're getting ready to go on a new mission. This time, though, 2B is killed and shit hits the fan. Things get crazy, you play as a new character: A2. In the end, pretty much everyone "dies", but you can choose to "reboot" and try again. You also can say you are done and let them all rest and delete your save data (the game gives you the option for both Automata and Replicant, and with Replicant, it actually leads to a new ending).

The striking thing for me is... There are certain events that will always happen, no matter what.

Fixed Points in Time

It's been years since I've watched Doctor Who, but there was something that stuck with me, and that was the fixed points in time. You can read about all of them here, but here's the basics:

Now, of course Doctor Who goes into this with much more detail and it's a recurring theme. However, as you read through that page, you'll probably find many aspects that have been used in various JRPGs that you've played. And Doctor Who most likely pulled some of the idea from classic Science Fiction novels. Each story puts its own spin on it.

How does this relate to FFVII Remake? Well, when they say that the major plot points will stay the same, it reminds me of this. No matter what, Cloud must fall into the Sector 5 Church, the Sector 7 Plate must be dropped, Aerith and Zack both must die, and Meteor has to be summoned, to name a few. So, with a time loop, those things would still have to take place in order to prevent a complete collapse of reality (at least in how Doctor Who uses it).

Therefore, the Whispers are ensuring that the Will of the Planet is followed.

One of the major themes in FFVII is that of loss. People die and they do not come back. Yes, other FF games do allow this to happen (FFX, FFXIII, FFXV), but VII is not those games. It was written with that idea in mind, that once a person dies, they, just like in real life, are dead and cannot be brought back.

I've previously written that I think they'll make us believe we are able to change fate, but we will eventually be slammed with the reality that we can't. That is because the planet has determined that certain events are fixed points.

Xenogears

Xenogears takes a bit of a different approach to the loop idea. Instead of repeating the same time period over and over, it has the characters reincarnated, and the same outcome happens each time: Elly dies. However, each time it's different. After all, they're in various time periods, in some cases thousands of years apart.

In all of the lives of Fei (who will have a different name in each time period) and Elly (who is always Elly/Elhaym), Elly will end up dying trying to protect Fei and the others. In one life, she is a religious figure at a totally not Catholic church, in another she's the wife of a scientist who was working to create children from nanomachines due to mass infertility issues. But she is ALWAYS with Fei, even if his name changes.

In her Mother Elhaym time, this is when Lacan (Fei) finally snaps. Though he's not fully aware of his past lives, he becomes aware, the anger consumes him, and he becomes Grahf. Fei is then reborn into the time period you play the game in.

There's a lot to unpack with this, so I won't go into it. Grahf wants to destroy God (Deus) because he thinks if he does, then it'll stop the suffering (his suffering).

If you do want to read more about Grahf, you can do so here, but it probably won't make much sense unless you've played Xenogears up to that point... Since it's much later in the game that this is all explained.

Lacan's desire was to stop the cycle of Elly always sacrificing herself for his sake. Though Grahf is not a perfect existence - he's not fully "The Contact", he sacrifices himself in order to let Fei move forward, and hopefully stop the cycle, by destroying the Deus system. (Elly also tries to sacrifice herself here, but Fei goes after her and stops her.)

Now, some people may think I'm saying that Cloud or somebody is going to do this in order to save Aerith or Zack (or his village or mom), but in FFVII if they do the loop method, I don't think Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and the others are aware of it. Most likely, it's only 'Sephiroth' and Aerith who are aware of it.

How this Could Be used for Final Fantasy VII

I'm stressing could because there's so many different possibilities on how they use this (if they are using this), so please, don't take this as fact. This is based on speculation based on what we know.

A time loop is a great way to explain away the differences in the story that we've seen: Biggs being alive, Wedge living for longer than he should have, etc. Since these are not major plot changes, they can simply say that this time it'll be slightly different... but your fixed points (major plot points) will remain the same.

It's a way to pull in some of the more obscure themes from Dirge of Cerberus and also play with the LOVELESS lore.

It could all simply be a big red herring and it's really just a remake of OG, but with the compilation tied together nicely... since it works much better when it's combined and not in 50 different games, books, movies, etc.

I don't think it's a "sequel" per say, not in the way I generally perceive a sequel. It's more of a loop of the same thing. The question is, when is the loop started and what will cause it to end? When will the planet (if it even is the planet) determine that it's good enough to begin moving forward?

JENOVA, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Minerva - Oh My!

Let's be real... Genesis isn't exactly the most popular character in the FFVII Compilation... but what if they make him one of the most important to the story? //Ducks as various fruits and vegetable are thrown in my direction//

I think what Genesis is probably most known for is his love of LOVELESS. He has the entire thing memorized and randomly says lines from it throughout Crisis Core. LOVELESS lore is still something I'm trying to grasp, so I am not going to comment much on it. Once I understand it more, I'll update this.

...And then this happens. The secret ending for Dirge of Cerberus, where Genesis picks up Weiss. Weiss, who has now been introduced along with Nero in FFVII INTERmission and is an optional ridiculously hard boss in the Shinra battle simulator in chapter 17 of the main story. There is some lore associated with the battle sim - so if you don't plan on beating it or you just can't, you can look up the pre-battle and post-battle cut scenes on YouTube. They're very short, but interesting. (I beat this asshole last night - it's a hell of a fight.)

....To Be Continued because apparently Tumblr won't allow more than 10 images per post now.... Next will be more on JENOVA and Sephiroth along with Minerva.

#ffvii #ffvii genesis #ff7 genesis #ff7 intergrade #ff7 intermission spoilers #FFVII intermission spoilers #FFVII Intermission #Final Fantasy VII #Dirge of Cerberus #FFVII Weiss #Xenogears #nier automata #final fantasy vii #ff7r #final fantasy 7 #timey wimey

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raleighcarrera · 3 years ago

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best of me

ride or die | logan x mc (ellie wheeler)

a picture of logan and ellie in their thirties for @rodappreciationweek and the time capsule challenge 🌼

tags: @choicesarehard ; @lovehugsandcandy ; @pixeljazzy ; @troublemakerinspace ; @zigtheeortega ; @jaxmatsuo

~2.3k words | T

“mr. wheeler!”

logan looked around the parking lot, squinting into the sun. one of his students was running at him full speed, holding his cell phone aloft and waving it around excitedly. “what’s up, alex?”

alex drew to a stop in front of him breathlessly. “i got in,” he said, lips splitting into a big grin. “cal tech, i got in.”

“hey, that’s awesome!” logan said, reaching out to clap the student on the shoulder. “congrats, alex. that’s a huge accomplishment.”

“dude, thank you so much for your recommendation,” alex said, nodding enthusiastically. “you’re honestly the best teacher i’ve ever had.”

“give yourself some credit,” he smiled, “you worked hard, and cal tech is lucky to have you. just don’t forget to come back and visit, yeah?”

“for sure,” alex agreed. with one last grin, he was gone, and logan finished getting his things in the car so he could head home, the rest of the students and faculty in the parking lot of mar vista high well used to the roar his devore’s engine made by now, after three years of teaching.

ellie’s car was already in the driveway when he arrived back at the house, and logan frowned when he parked on the street and jogged up the walk to their front door. it was early for her to be home; usually his day ended well before hers. as he walked inside, he wondered absently if the fact that she’d had an early afternoon meant she’d started dinner, and if he was possibly lucky enough that she was making that noodle thing he liked so much.

“ellie?” his keys landed in the bowl by the door with a familiar clink, his shoes kicked off one by one on the mat. “babe?”

“in here!” the stressed-out voice of his wife filtered in from the spare room. as soon as logan took a step towards the hallway, there was a sudden and aggressive rapid tap-tap-tap on the hardwood floor, and their dog ran at him at full speed, jumping up onto his legs with an excited bark.

“hey, clark,” he said gently, bending down to scratch the dog behind his floppy ears, “everything okay in there?”

the pointed silence that followed seemed to speak for itself. he followed the hallway down to the spare bedroom and found ellie sitting on the floor, surrounded by ripped-open cardboard boxes and indistinguishable small plastic pieces.

before logan could ask what she was doing, she frowned up at him and said, “i’ve been trying to put this baby carrier together for three hours.”

he arched his eyebrows at her, looking over the small mess she’d created in the middle of the room. “you’ve been here for three hours?”

ellie pulled a face at him, her lips twisted into a grimace. “morning sickness that lasts all day again,” she explained, scrunching up her nose. “jack caught me coming out of the bathroom and sent me home after lunch.”

“oh, no,” logan said sympathetically, dropping down onto his knees on the one free space of carpet. “i was hoping that’d’ve gone away by now.”

“you and me both,” ellie sighed, puckering her lips at him for a quick kiss. “i guess it was too much to hope for a baby without a rebellious streak a mile wide.”

“i’m still holding out for your dimples,” he grinned, “and that laugh. as long as the baby gets both of those, they’ll be set for life.”

“the baby is five minutes away from sleeping on the floor. i’m about to trash all of this and go take a nap.” the downtrodden expression on ellie’s face tugged at his heart in a way her cute little sighs always seemed to manage to. logan was already smiling when she squinted up at him hopefully and asked, “will you help me try to put it together?”

as if there was ever a chance he’d say no. “’course,” logan answered, “two heads are better than one, right? although you are an engineer...”

“believe me, graco is going to be hearing from me,” ellie grumbled, rolling gingerly to the side to shuffle awkwardly out of the way of the pile of pieces she’d already started putting together. she was just a few months along but already starting to show and moving about differently for it, unaccustomed to her new shape. “there is no reason these instructions should be more complicated than my master’s thesis.”

logan laughed, leaning over to take a peek at the paper spread out between her legs. “hey, they’re not so bad.” he easily snapped two pieces into place, forming the base of the carrier. “there we go.”

“show off.” ellie rolled her eyes, pushing another piece his way with a disdainful sniff. “i’m still calling them to complain.”

“and you totally should,” he said easily, “because they suck and you’re brilliant.”

“exactly,” she agreed. without looking up he could tell that her eyes were narrowed, her lip curling further with every piece he added onto the carrier, the methodic click of each settling into place ringing out loudly in the silent room. finally, ellie groaned, “god, i hate you. i knew this would be so easy for you.”

“okay, but that’s what i’m here for,” he reminded her with another soft smile, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze her knee. ellie huffed when he continued to turn a plastic screw one-handed. “to handle all this shit for you so you can relax. i know you have the hardest job, here.”

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met.” ellie’s sigh sounded wistful. when logan lifted his gaze he found her staring at him adoringly, her eyes wet. “i love you.”

“i love you too, baby. any idea what you want for dinner?” he looked away to concentrate on lining two tiny pieces up, frowning when they wouldn’t stick quite right. “come here for a sec, yeah? need some tiny fingers.”

ellie shot him a look, but leaned over anyway, wiggling her hand in the tight space he indicated until the two pieces sealed together with a pop. “maybe i don’t need a refund on my degree after all.”

“they should’ve paid you to take it,” logan agreed indulgently, nudging his shoulder gently against hers. “dinner?” he prompted again.

his wife groaned theatrically, flopping back onto the carpet. her arms and legs spread out like she was making a snow angel, disturbing the bubble wrap and cardboard that littered the room. “i want sushi,” ellie said sadly, “and a wine spritzer.”

“what about apple cider?” he asked gently, eyes still on the baby carrier even as one hand felt blindly for her calf and dug its thumb into her muscle for a massage. “it’s almost the same thing.”

“it’s not even close,” she sighed. “but fine. thank you.”

“you got it. why don’t i finish up in here, and you see what we have in the kitchen? it’ll just be a few more minutes.”

“rub it in,” ellie muttered, rolling slowly to sit up. “okay. i feel like i should do something nice for you. maybe i can make that noodle thing you like.”

logan beamed at her, leaning in to steal a kiss. “that’s sweet of you, babe. thank you.”

ellie laughed, kissing him back before she asked, “why do i feel like this was all an elaborate set up to get me to make your favorite dinner?”

“because you’re a naturally suspicious person?” he guessed, lifting his hand to smooth her hair back off her face. “i don’t know.”

“i think it’s because you’re too charming for your own damn good.” but ellie was smiling when he pulled away, and that was all that mattered. it was the only goal he ever had.

“no such thing,” logan smiled back, gently nudging her away. “i’m right behind you.”

“yeah, yeah,” she said, waving dismissively, “show off.”

he watched her walk away, staring until she disappeared around the corner, and then turned back to the mass of plastic and screws that was slowly starting to resemble an actual baby carrier. squinting down at the instructions, it was only a matter of minutes before he had the rest of it assembled, and then a few more while he backtracked, checking over his work to find where he’d missed the one remaining piece that had been left over.

he took the time to clean up in what was eventually going to be their nursery, eyes sweeping over the boxes and gifts that cluttered their spare room. there was a ways to go before they were anything even close to ready for the baby, and he knew ellie’s due date would be here in the blink of an eye.

would he ever really feel ready? it seemed insane, when he sat and thought about it -- he and ellie were going to be parents. more than home or dog owners or two people with jobs and bills, it seemed like a responsibility he felt no where near prepared for or equipped to deal with. sometimes he still felt like a stupid kid himself.

though he had absolutely no doubts about ellie. ellie took to every kid she met like a natural -- his students adored her, riya’s twins thought she was the greatest thing in the world and were still only lukewarm where he was concerned. the kids in the program they volunteered with couldn’t get enough of her.

she kept their house running and all their plants alive. she kept him so happy he was delirious with it, in a way that had felt utterly foreign at first but now seemed so common.

enviously, he knew she’d be mother of the year without even having to try.

the rest of the room was tidied on autopilot as logan remained lost in his thoughts, and when he finally made his way into the kitchen it was, to his delight, to the tune of ellie in the middle of making his favorite dinner, the room smelling as amazing as the sight of her rushing around so domestically looked.

his heart gave a weak lurch as he stepped up behind her at the counter and wound his arms around her waist. his nose pressed into the dip at her shoulder with a sigh. “all done. next stop... crib.”

“don’t remind me,” ellie groaned, “my dad has been on my ass for weeks.”

logan winced. if there was one thing he knew about detective wheeler, it was that he was just as opinionated as his beautiful daughter. “maybe he could come with us to pick it out.”

“maybe he could mind his own business,” she suggested instead, stirring the boiling pot of pasta on the stove. “he acts like he knows everything there is to know about babies.”

“well,” logan said, nosing at the hair at the nape of her neck, “he did raise the most amazing person in the entire world. maybe we should give him some credit.”

“okay, kiss ass,” ellie laughed, “he can’t hear you. but fine. if you really want, we’ll all go next weekend.”

he shrugged. it was personally something he felt indifferent towards, but a few extra points with ellie’s dad never hurt. most of the time he was pretty certain detective wheeler still wanted him dead. “i think that’d be nice.”

“i bet you do,” she murmured, twisting around to hold the spoon she was holding out. “taste.”

he did, chewing and swallowing slowly. “it’s done,” logan said sadly, knowing the words meant he’d have to move away. ellie laughed as he pulled his arms back and went to set the table instead.

he headed to the fridge for the bottle of sparkling cider, making a show of popping the cork like champagne and pouring ellie a generous amount into the giant wine glass she hadn’t been able to use in awhile. she rolled her eyes at him as she put the serving bowl on the table. “it’s not the same.”

“it’s pretty close,” he argued, lifting his own glass up and swirling it like he’d seen many pretentious people at restaurants that made him uncomfortable do. “it’s a beautiful vintage,” he declared, as though he had any idea what that was supposed to mean, “with notes of... apples.”

gratifyingly, ellie dissolved into giggles, shaking her head. “i can’t stand you,” she said fondly, all smiles. he grinned back at her, lifting his glass to his lips.

“to the baby,” ellie said suddenly, lifting her glass, too, and bumping it into his.

“to you,” logan corrected her, clinking his glass into hers a second time.

ellie narrowed her eyes at him. “to you.” their glasses knocked again.

“nuh uh,” he countered childishly, “you’re the baby’s mom.”

“you’re the baby’s dad,” she laughed, bouncing up on her toes to try to get at his glass even as he lifted it above his head and twisted out of her way.

“this is ridiculous,” logan grinned, “just let me toast you, oh my god.”

“no, it was my toast,” she said, jumping up and splashing apple cider out of her glass and onto the floor, “stop trying to hijack it!”

“okay, okay.” he held his hand out to concede, backing away to drop into his seat at the table. ellie followed suit, smirking triumphantly at him. she still loved to win. “to all of us, jeez. me and you and the baby.”

“to all of us,” ellie repeated, and this time, their glasses touched gently, the sound barely audible over the giggles that were building up in her throat again.

he flashed her a goofy grin before he tipped his head back and drained all his cider in one go.

sure, it might’ve been nice to have had something stronger, but --

“mmm,” ellie sighed, smacking her lips as she set her glass down, “you were right. this is so much better.”

#rodaw #rod logan #logan rod #logan x mc #choices rod #ellie wheeler #logan x ellie #rodtimecapsule #myfic #long post #hope you guys like this one !! 💕

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moonflower-31 · 4 years ago

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I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 8

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: A lot of yelling, language, and some supernatural references (if you squint)

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~

You took deep breaths as Hotch led you towards the interview room. You tightened your fists at your sides as you ran through your mind how you planned on doing any of this. The last time you'd tried to negotiate with a man like him, it hadn't been pretty.

"You need to get him angry, alright? That's his weakness. Figure out which of the archetypes he is. Get as much as you can out of him, but do not under any circumstances let him speak to anyone or manipulate you. We will switch out with Morgan to watch over him in an hour. Good luck." Hotch readied you, giving you the files you needed. You clutched the manilla envelope against your chest, trying to calm your ever racing heart.

You nod wordlessly, facing the man in the see through mirror. He was wearing a red flannel and a black shirt underneath paired with ripped jeans. He had hunters boots on as well. He had a bruise forming on his jaw and a fresh cut that was bandaged on his forehead.

Morgan stepped up behind you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You can do this, kid. Promise. Don't let him get to you." He insists. You nodded shakily, looking up at the man again.

You turn towards Morgan with a determined look. "Just promise me you won't interrupt. Even if he tries to attack me." You insist. Morgan widens his eyes.

"Princess, we can't do that. If anything goes wrong-" he began, unable to find the right words to fill the gap. "You could get hurt. And that's paperwork." He adds with a sigh. You giggle and shake your head.

"Morgan, we both know paperwork isn't what you're worried about." You tease before you turn around and find the handle to the interview room. Here goes nothing.

You walk in, closing the door behind you. As soon as you turn around to do so, you hear a whistle from behind you.

"Damn… and here I thought they'd be sendin' in some prissy princess. How you doin'?" The man asked. You swallow. This was exactly how you expected him to treat you. You'd had experience with narcissists and manipulators before. This was the first thing they did.

"I don't know, Jensen." You greet, grateful you had stolen a glance at his profile and which one of the brothers he was. He smirked at you, leaning forward and biting his lip flirtatiously. "Why don't you tell me how you're doing with all of these murders. I mean, it has to get to you somehow. All that blood on your hands… all that guilt… unless it's just fun for you." You ask, smirking at him as you changed the subject. Jensen's face shifted slightly, twitching at how focused you still were at getting these answers.

"Sure it's fun. But I only do it cause I have to. You know… I'd stop if I had a girl like you…" he insists, attempting to reach across and touch your chin. You back away slowly, just about enough to make him think you were playing hard to get. You batted your eyelashes and threw your hair behind your shoulder.

"Oh really? You would?" You asked, pulling out a photo. "What about that brother of yours? Sam, right? What's he like?" You ask in a flirtatious tone. Jensen yet again shifts a little in his seat, uncomfortable that he was losing control of the conversation.

"Hey, Sammy can't even get it up half the time. All the girls he fucks he kills afterwards. I'm better, trust me." He insists, winking at you from where he sat slouched in the seat across from you. He bit his lip a little harder and hummed gently. "Man… you know, if I didn't have these handcuffs on I could show you a pretty good time…" he trails, giving you a seductive look. Had this been over five years ago, this flirting would have seriously got you. No one had ever flirted with you this way. Not even now. But after all your experience with secret motivations behind smiling masks, you knew better.

"Oh yeah? I thought you were… more the kinky type. Let a girl think she's in control for a good little bit." You ask, purposely shifting in your seat to slightly pull up your skirt. Your plan has been working so far. Hopefully Morgan was keeping his promise.

Jensen licked his lips and looked you up and down. "I'm guessing this ain't your first rodeo, is it, princess?" He asks, giving you a flirtatious glance. You bite back a disgusted groan that would've fallen from your mouth if the situation were different.

You giggle and hold a hand to your mouth. "No, no I'm afraid it isn't." You tease. Jensen flashes a white smile you're sure has charmed plenty of women in his past into his pants.

"Good. I like women with… experience." He flirts back. "You think I could get a beer in here? Some whiskey?" He asks.

"How about you answer a few questions for me, big boy? Then maybe I'll let you ask for a few things. Of course, within reason." You remind, winking back at him. Jensen leaned back in his chair and pondered what you offered.

"Sure, lay it on me, Baby." He allows, nodding to you. You let out an undetectable sigh of relief before you start up again. So far, so good.

"So… Jensen… how would you describe your relationship with Sam? Strong? You get along good?" You ask, internally groaning at how much you sounded like a therapist.

Jensen seemed to share this sentiment and let out a groan for you. "Geez, you sound like a goddamn shrink." He grumbles as he sits up. "Yeah… me and Sammy are always by each other. I practically raised him. He's my baby brother. What do you expect? Some people say we're codependent on each other but, really, who are they to judge?" He shrugged, looking at you.

You nod, looking through the information. Just as you begin to open your mouth to ask another question, Jensen slightly hits the table.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. You asked me a question, so I get to ask one too. Am I right?" He clarifies, giving you a shit-eating grin because he knew he was right. You sigh and nodded, closing the file for a moment. Jensen smirked and leaned forward towards you.

"How come we ain't on a first name basis yet, hm? You know my name, what's yours sugar-tits?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You swallow gently.

"My name is Agent-"

"No-no-no-" Jensen interrupted. "I mean your real name, sweetness. You know, the name mommy and daddy gave you when they signed that slip of paper." He insists, pressing a finger into the table.

You sigh. "I can meet you half-way and give you my middle name-" you attempt to compromise.

"No, damnit!" He growls, slapping his fists into the table. "I want a damn name! No name? No answers, bitch!" He yelled in your face. You swallowed all the nerves building up in your throat, clearing it for a moment.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Or we'll have to detain you again. And then you won't get the chance to hear my name or potentially strike up a deal, you hear me?" You ask, biting the inside of your cheek just barely.

Jensen seemed satisfied with your answer, settling back into his chair.

"They call me (Y/N)." You answer after a quiet moment. Jensen smiles greedily.

"(Y/N), huh? You don't hear that one everyday."

"No, you don't. Now… Jensen. Can you tell me, what exactly you and your brother were doing when you decided to kill these two men?" You asked, pushing the pictures of the crime scene in front of him. He rolled his eyes.

"They were tax guys. We didn't wanna pay tax, is that too hard to get, baby?" He asks with a chuckle.

"No, I figured that. No, what I want to know, is why you decided to pour salt on the body once they were already dead, and set them on fire?" You questioned. Jensen began to protest but you held up a hand.

"I'll let you ask two questions once you answer me." You promise, pointing at one of the photos. He sighed and leaned back.

"Ain't I allowed a lawyer?" He asks.

"Not since you escaped prison and are not a legal, non-incarcerated citizen. Sure, you will receive an attorney for trial. But I doubt a lawyer will help you here. I'm your best bet at being able to strike up a deal."

Jensen grumbled, looking around the room, still refusing to answer. You nod as you begin to take mental notes.

"Ah I see. This all has to do with the man who burned your mother, doesn't it?" You ask him, catching him off guard.

"Wha-?! How did-?" He began.

"We're the FBI, Jensen. Not some local police officer you can convince you were just experimenting how to build a bonfire and try to tell me they got just a little too close. You see, your mother was salted and burned too. But I bet you knew that. That man assaulted her in your brother's nursery and started the fire. You reserved that method for him. But you couldn't remember whether the man was blond haired, or dark. So you killed them both the same way. Didn't you, Jensen? You and your brother got caught up in your daddy's little business-"

"Shut up-" Jensen growled.

"And now you can't stand to let him down. To break the promise you made to him-"

"Shut. Up." He hissed.

"And you brought your little brother into it too because you couldn't face all the guilt all alone. Because you're afraid of being abandoned. Despite all the ways you have to fill up that void: Drink, Sex, Money, you know that you can never be satisfied." You insist, leaning closer to Jensen as you begin to raise your voice.

"Shut the hell up, bitch!" He attempted to shout over you.

"You can never be satisfied because all you are is daddy's little pawn. And without him? You see no purpose for yourself-"

"Son of a bitch-!" He growled, slamming his fist into the table again. "Shut the fuck up before I make you-"

"Then answer me this one question, Jensen." You insist, standing up as he does.

"Why should I-?" He roars.

"Cause I know you never wanted this. That you wanted a regular family. And I can find that family you tried to hold onto." You insist. It was a long shot, but you had to try.

"What the hell are you talking about-?!"

"Men like you, who have broken homes, broken families with deadbeat fathers, they try to start over. Try to be the man their father wasn't. And I can see that you fit right into that, Jensen. You tried to have a family. You desperately tried. But you were too sucked into this second life you had that you had to choose. And you regret it. Now, tell me where your brother is, and I'll find them for you." You promise.

Jensen widens his eyes in shock, as if he was surprised you could get all of that from just this little interview. He tensed up and took his seat again, twitching with anger and disbelief. "You're bluffing… she… Daneel moved on from me. Changed her name. You can't find her."

"I bet that I can. I'll find them and let you see them again. If you tell me where your brother is." You restate, calming your voice to a caring tone. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

"There's an old factory we both head to… when one of us gets caught. It's down south of Lebanon. He'll be there. Now you better find her for me. Or I will strangle you here and now-" he began to threaten.

"I wouldn't lie about that. You'll see her. You'll see your brother too. Just behave, and I may be able to get some visiting privileges worked out for you." You promise, collecting the files again and head towards the door.

"(Y/N)..."

You turn your head as you hear your name. Before you can even reply, he finishes his statement.

"Thank you." He says just barely audibly. You smile gently and nod to him before you leave the room.

Once out you exhale your hardest, taking in a similar inhale. That, was a lot.

"Damn… how the hell did you get all that? How did you… even do that?" Morgan asks, helping you up from where you had unknowingly leaned against the door.

You shook your head, smiling somewhat. "I… I trusted my gut. I've unfortunately dealt with guys like him. And the one thing they treasure is something they know they can never have." You explain, looking up at Morgan.

"Well still, you did a good job staying calm in there. I mean… Hotch and I didn't know whether or not you were seriously flirting with him or not." Morgan chuckles.

"Yeah well… sure he was handsome but, he isn't my type." You reveal. Morgan smirks and nudges your shoulder.

"Yeah, cause your type is 6'1 and a gigantic nerd. Who by the way, couldn't stay in the room watching the interrogation after you started flirting with him. You should've seen him, all red faced too." He grinned. You widen your eyes at his reveal, doing a little blushing of your own.

"Really?" You ask.

"Yeah, kid. But seriously… (Y/N)? You've been holding out on me princess! Why didn't you tell me you had a name like that?" He teased, leading you out of the room and towards the rest of the station.

"Well… you can call me (Y/N/N). I go by that more often by friends." You insist. Morgan chuckles.

"And we are most definitely, friends." He says, holding up a fist for you. You giggle and give him a fist bump, walking with him back out to where Hotch and the rest of the team were.

"We all need to split up and take different entrances to the factory. He probably knows the building better than we do. Once we're in, we'll corner him. Without his brother he is vulnerable." Hotch explains, unaware Morgan was walking up behind him.

You look down and pull your skirt back into place. You didn't need anyone thinking you were trying to get some.

"So Hotch, what's the plan?" Morgan asked.

Hotch turned around and faced the two of you. "I'm having Garcia get the layout of the factory now. There's only one down there, so we have to assume that's the one Jensen meant."

"Great work, (L/N)." Prentiss says, smiling at you.

"Thank you." You respond. "I… just trusted my gut. Hotch?" You spoke up. The man in question turned his head towards you. You sigh and begin to speak up.

"I called Garcia to find her for you." Rossi interrupted, smiling at you. "I'll put it on my record, so you can still have a clean one." He promises, winking at you.

Hotch nodded. "Yes, we'll get in contact with this Daneel. If any pop up in his history, we'll call her down to see him. Now we need to hurry. Jensen may have a way to tip off his brother. You need to change out of that and get down to the factory." He says to you.

"She can change in the car with me." Prentiss insists. "Like you said we don't have much time."

"Alright. (L/N), you ride with Prentiss. Let's go." He says, prompting all of you to head towards the doors.

○●♡●○

"Damn, (Y/N), where have you been all my life?" Derek asks as you both come back into the station, followed by the rest of the team.

They had managed to apprehend the brother. Turns out that Sam had been contemplating suicide and when you had told him he could see his brother again, he gave in. So he was much easier than his brother.

"I dunno, Morgan. Probably hidden under all the other chicks you had to take out first." You teased, giggling a little as you all took a seat (and or leaned against the wall, as was Morgan’s thing.)

Spencer, on the other hand, chose to head into the evidence room instead. You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Hey, uh… is Reid okay? I mean, he was the one who got the guy in handcuffs. Did you see him though? He had to be at least as tall as Spencer." You chuckled.

"Why do you say that?" Prentiss asks.

"Did you not see him skip this little after case review? He went straight into the evidence room. I've never known him in the two months that I have, to go clean up evidence boards before talking to all of us." You point out.

"He's probably just jealous." Morgan teased. You furrow your eyebrows and wack Morgan’s arm. Morgan smiles and winces playfully in pain.

"I thought you promised me you wouldn't talk about it!?" You hissed.

"Ooh, talk about what?" JJ asks, taking her own seat instead of standing. Hotch smiles softly and chuckles.

"The obvious crush Ms. (L/N) has on Reid." Hotch spoke up.

You whip around faster than the swivel chair can as you look at Hotch in surprise. "Don't tell me he told you!" You whined, your blush making a reappearance on your face as you cover them.

Hotch chuckles and lets Rossi take over his defense. "We all know already, kid. You aren't exactly slick about it." He says with a chuckle of his own.

"You all suck. Capital S." You grumble.

"Hey, I didn't do anything about it." Prentiss points out. "Though sure, I may have said something about Reid…" she trails. You groan louder.

"Seriously? How obvious have I really been?" You ask. "And be honest with me please." You insist. Each of your team members looked to one another before they each said: "Very."

You let out a frustrated growl and lean back in your chair. Morgan chuckled as he put a hand on your shoulder.

"Kid, you weren't slick." He admits.

After a moment, Morgan gets an idea and smirks. "So… does he know your name?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Prentiss and JJ gasp for a moment, smiling at you expectantly. A third gasp joins them, causing you to crane your neck to find out where it came from. JJ turned her phone around and showed Garcia's caller ID. You should have known.

"Come on kid, is it safe to tell us yet?" Morgan asks, smiling genuinely at you. The most real one you'd gotten thus far, you think with a grumble.

You sigh as you begin to grin from ear to ear. Guess you weren't getting out of this. You had finally been able to let your guard down around the team. You felt welcomed and not like a burden. So you said it.

"My name is (Y/N). But you all can call me (Y/N/N)."

A few shrieks from Garcia's end were quickly heard then silenced through the volume button of JJ's phone. Prentiss smiled at you, sitting back gently.

"Really now? Never thought I'd say it but I never pegged you for a (Y/N)." She commented. You snickered.

"Yeah, well, you can thank my grandfather for that one. He insisted my parents name me something normal. Or at least something that wasn't Gwenevere. So they compromised on (Y/N)." You laugh, bringing a few more members of the team with you.

This was home. You'd only known a true home one time before this in your life. And this was it. This is what home was to you. Not a random apartment, not some desk job, this. This work family you'd built up for the past two months.

You just hoped you hadn't screwed up with Reid again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer x reader fanfic

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hwarangbangbang · 4 years ago

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jin zixuan » captivation

parts - 1 | 2

hello everyone! here is the second part, as requested by @impossibleme09 to captivation! this is a reader insert so if thats not quite your vibe, i understand~ but if it IS your vibe and you have read the first chapter, i hope you enjoy! and i thank all you kind readers for your patience!

title - captivation word count - 3,004 words paring - jin zixuan/fem!reader tags - THE ANGST (for the most part) IS OVER!! hopefully only lovely tings in this chapter, heartfelt emotions, mutual pining, affair, kinda happy ending

Four weeks.

Four long, lonely, dark, desperate weeks had passed since your sentencing by the Gusu Lan Sect, alongside the remainder of the court.

They had dragged you out, kicking and screaming at the verdict whilst they quite literally began to rip apart your only best friend. You could see the look on Zhao Gang's face, the look in his eyes.

At least now, you knew he would be at peace.

You however, were confined for the rest of your days to stare at four stone walls, and a barred window and doorway being the only access you could never have again to the outside world.

On the third day of the fifth week, which you had conveniently kept track of by using a corroded nail to carve the rustic tallies into the floor, you noticed something peculiar going on outside of your cell window. It was faint, given how quiet it always was down in the prison of the Lanling Jin Sect, but you heard it.

The small sound of rustling paper, following by said parchment falling down onto the floor of your cell. Your cell was partially underground, the window starting at the beginning of the ground and only extending up a few feet, so on occasion trash could come in through the slots in the bars, you didn't pay much mind to it.

However, this parchment seemed different. It was a letter.

With curious eyes, you walked over to it, picking up the letter that was sealed with a gold emblem to keep it shut. You knew that sigil anywhere, it was that of the Lanling Jin Sect. When you turned it over, you saw your name beautifully written on the front of it.

Why would a letter be addressed to you, coming from the very sect you were imprisoned at, be coming through your cell window? Couldn't whatever message may be, not be delivered by word of mouth from a guard?

Regardless, you opened up the letter, not caring for the golden wax infused sigil that was ripped in half as you pulled it apart and began to read.

Cultivator [ Y/L/N ], I do hope this letter finds you in good health -- though I do understand your predicament is less than desirable and for that I do apologize on behalf of the court and my sect.

I was present that day, the day of your sentencing, and while I do agree that your choices of alternate methods of cultivation were a bit of an extreme shock to us and to the cultivation world, I believe you do not deserve a life such as this.

You were in mourning for your companion, and it is with my deepest apologies that you must go through it again. I wish for his soul to be carried to the highest of places, awaiting yours in the future.

I would like to help you, should you so want that. You do not deserve to spend the rest of your life trapped as an animal for one mistake. I will leave you this letter, and return just before daybreak for your answer.

Please think over my offer well, I hope to see you in the morning.

Someone... wanted to help you? Someone saw through your scrutiny you were served by the Sect Leaders... the truth? That you weren't a threat, or had any ill will to harm anyone? There had to be a catch, there had to be something -- who would just willingly help you? Definitely not out of just blind trust.

Your stomach turned throughout the night, not even getting so much as a wink of sleep as your eyes were trained on the window, your evening sludge of dinner forgotten on the floor. As the evening darkness turned to a dark magenta and clementine hue, the morning sun shining through the small window, you raised up to your own two feet to pad toward the window.

You raised up on your tip toes, looking out of the barred hole as you curled your fingers around the cold metal and waited. You waited for what had felt like forever, your eyes heavy from the lack of sleep, and just when you felt like giving up on whatever hope had been brewing in your head over the night, you saw a pair of black hanfu boots, the lining instead of white cotton, was a shimmery silk laced gold.

The robe to match could be mistaken for nothing else than a member of the Lanling Jin Sect and it swayed elegantly even from what you could see. The owner crouched down, and you nearly fainted when you saw who's face it belonged to.

"Y-Young Lord Jin?" You gasped, slipping off of your tip toes as you braced yourself against the stone walls of your prison cell. You must have gone truly mad- did your eyes really deceive you?

A small, barely present smile raised along the corners of his mouth, and you had to blink yourself out of your trance to come to terms with the fact that it truly was him. “I hope I have not troubled you due to my early risings, Cultivator (Y/L/N), I needed to arrive during the changing shifts of the dungeon guards.” He apologized, looking left and right before sitting down on his knees, bracing himself on the bars as he peered down at you.

There was an awkward and tense silence between the two of you -- you watching him, a rosy flush coloring his cheeks as he tried his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“So... did you sleep well?”

“What exactly is it you want from me, Young Lord Jin?”

Time. It was something you had plenty of, but in this current moment the anxiety was eating at you -- the apprehension of not knowing -- and your patience was wearing thin as he tried to skirt around the issue at hand.

Jin Zixuan cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I want nothing of you. I want to help you.” He answered, and alas, there was no tell-tale signs of dishonesty anywhere on him. His fingers couldn’t cross behind his back, as they were curled around the cold metal bars. His eyes didn’t shift side to side, as they were trained on you.

So either Jin Zixuan was a really good liar, or he was truthfully only trying to help.

Which prompted you to the question that had been at the forefront of your mind since the moment you received his letter. “Why?”

His brow furrowed, “because, I believe... you do not deserve to be here. Not trapped in here for the rest of your life as a common criminal-” he began, though you cut him off quickly. “How do you know I’m not? How do you know you can trust me not to abuse your position to get what I want? How do you know I will not, upon my freedom, raise another ghost puppet to do my bidding?!”

“Because of your eyes.”

Well that... truly stunned you. You weren’t sure how to counter that, but you didn’t need to, because he continued on in explanation.

“Your eyes show more emotion than you want. I was raised in a family where all I could do was sit and observe. I learned many things during my years, but one was how to spot someone evil.” He said tersely.

“An evil person, someone truly evil, is someone who could not care less of who gets caught in the crossfire of their wrongdoings. They enjoy the fear they inflict, the pain, the agony... But you,” he pointed towards you with an accusatory finger, though didn’t hold accusatory words, “you do not. Your eyes still have that sparkle of innocence.” He finished, but then added, “it’s quite... captivating, if I do say so myself.”

“Even if what you are saying is true-” you interjected, “how do you expect me to escape this prison? There is only one way in, and only one way out -- and it is through that door right there-” you pointed to the doorway cut out of stone, jailed by more bars.

Jin Zixuan smiled, “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know more ins and outs of this palace than you could imagine.” He pulled something from his outer robe as he stood, tossing down another letter into your hands as he looked around. “The guards have switched -- I will leave you more letters with my plans. Keep them hidden, keep them safe.”

And then he was gone.

Days bled into nights, which morphed into the longest few months you had ever experienced. Having nothing to look at but your prison walls, the food becoming more and more inedible as the time went on; if it weren’t for your lingering hope of escape and your track keeping of each day, you were sure you would have gone mad.

But Jin Zixuan kept to his word. Visiting you every single day at sunrise on the dot, sometimes to simply just sit and talk, or to leave you more letters due to his rush to get done his princely deeds of the day. But in all the days you were stuck there, he had become the highlight of your day.

His smile, while regal and reserved, was always genuine. His voice would tell you stories of what was going on in the real world, stories you’d recall as you drifted to sleep each night. He was always helpful, never condescending... and it finally began to dawn on you that you might actually feel something for the Young Prince of Lanling Jin Sect.

This took a while for you to come to terms with. What if it had been just in your head? To be quite fair, he was the only man you had really had any contact with in... god knows how long. What if it was only your imagination that was making you picture the longing in his stares? Making you picture the somewhat suggestive sentences that hinted at wanting something more than just helping you?

But he was engaged... He had told you this much himself. To a woman who didn’t deserve how dismissive he had been to her as of late. That she was kind and sweet and caring, and deserved a better man to call a husband. It was hard for you to hide your dislike for the matter, to hide your jealousy, even as he expressed that it was only for show to keep the big sect families in harmony.

It was all a lot to process, and at the end of the day you at least knew to be true that you did in fact share some semblance of feelings for Jin Zixuan.

Months passed before the day had come.

The day of your escape.

The change of guards would take longer due to the need for increased protection following the wedding ceremony of the Young Lord Jin Zixuan and his bride to be, Young Lady Jiang. You had only seen her a few times in passing, and only had heard seldom things about her -- but you knew one thing for sure: she definitely was lucky to be able to spend the rest of her life by his side. Something at this point you could only wish for.

A knock sounded from the barred door of your cell, and you lifted your head from the ground where you lay to see a familiar face. Jin Zixuan. He was dressed very well, in red robes as was custom for wedding ceremonies, and it honestly looked quite breathtaking on him.

The robe, which was normally a mix of golds and cream colored fabric, was a vibrant red that made his skin glow that much more than normal, it suited his tone well, and his hair was done up with the most royal braids you had ever seen. He looked amazing, and this was most likely the last image you would ever have of him.

At least it was a charming memory to have.

“Are you ready? We have little time, I’m awaiting for the word to begin the entry to the palace for the ceremony. I figure whilst everyone is busying themselves in the wedding hall... this would be the best time.” Jin Zixuan spoke, and you felt a heavy feeling in your heart. But nonetheless, you nodded. Young Lord Jin was not yours to have, he was already spoken for... but yet you still could see a pain behind his deep brown irises.

Jin Zixuan produced a small key from inside his sleeve, and for the first time since your imprisonment, you saw that cell door open and heard it creak. As you stepped outside, into the prison hall, you saw not a single guard was in sight. With a quick look you both shared together, he took your hand and began to lead you down the hall.

You were thankful for his aid, because even if you had managed to conspire this plan yourself, you would have gotten lost easily in the maze of halls.

After what had seemed like forever, you were stopped by his arm curling around your form to jerk you back between two pillars against a stone wall. His hand came clasped over your mouth to silence any yelps that betrayed you from the surprise, and just as you were about to ask him why he had stopped you, when you heard it.

Guards. The clink of their swords. The sound of them talking. You heard at least two to your left, and even more to your right. You looked up at Jin Zixuan with a look of fear -- not for you, but for him. What would happen to him if he was caught helping a fugitive? A criminal?

He didn’t seem to share that same look of fear though, because he reached above him to pull a small pin from what looked like an embedding in the wall, and just like that, the wall behind you disappeared, only to be realigned in place soundlessly.

It had taken you nearly off your feet, if it hadn’t been for the Young Prince’s grip on your waist holding you steady. As darkness encased the both of you, the only light allotted a few torches along the tunnel that lay before you, you felt him move before a rustling of fabric sounded, a dark blue robe being held out to you.

“The less suspicious you seem when you get to the outside world, the better.” He explained, and after the robe was passed to your hands he turned around to politely allow you to change.

You quickly made work of your outer robe, ignoring the blush coloring your cheeks that you were thankful was hardly noticeable in the lighting, slipping on the disguise and making sure it was secure before clearing your throat. “I am finished, Young Lord Jin.” You said solemnly, your head downcast as he turned back around.

He nervously shuffled in place, holding a hand out to you. “Shall we?” He ushered, and you took it gingerly, feeling his warm, big hand, engulf your smaller, colder one as the two of you began to sprint down the tunnel.

You were beginning to run out of breath, panting as you tried your best to keep up with him; but the fact of the matter was you had been confined to a dungeon prison cell for nearly a year in preparation for your escape, you weren’t in the best shape to run this way.

But it wasn’t endless, because at the end of the tunnel was a wall. Jin Zixuan reached up, grabbing onto a small string as he passed it to you.

“If you pull this string, it will remove the pin above your head. The wall will shift open, just enough for you to sneak past... If you continue down the tunnel, it will let you out just outside of the city.” He said, his face alight with the torches next to him. He seemed... nervous, but not because of the big risk he was taking by busting you out.

“I know our time is almost up... but may I please be frank with you if only for a moment, Cultivator (Y/N)?” Your eyes were hopeful as you looked up at him, “of course.”

“We have spent quite a lot of time together over the months, and while I know it is very much frowned upon given our social statuses as well as my pre-arranged betrothal-”

“Young Lord Jin, please, do not hold back what it is you wish to say.” You cut him off, the anticipation nearly killing you.

He looked down at his hands clasped before him. “I... I have begun to grow a liking to you. An attachment I know is not socially acceptable. Once I become Ruler of the Lanling Jin Sect, your crimes would become nothing more than memory -- but that isn’t for a long, long time-“ He was rambling again, and you reached out a hand to steady his own.

You couldn’t quell the joy in your heart as you asked, “would you wait that long? Would you wait long enough til you were crowned leader to see me again?“ You inquired, and he blinked for a moment, before a big smile broke across his face. “I would.“

With all the courage you could muster, all things considered, you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. They were soft and pillow-like, and he chased your own lips even as you pulled away, unable to hide your happiness and fondness as you pulled on the string.

“Then I suppose our worries of never seeing each other again are nothing to be thought of then, don’t you, Jin Zixuan?”

And just like that, you were running out to your freedom, chasing the future where you could walk in the sun with Jin Zixuan.

general masterlist

#jin zixuan #the untamed jin zixuan #the untamed #mdzs #mdzs reader insert

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crypterion-moon · 4 years ago

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Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.3

Summary: Fresh from their missions, the team finds intruders stepping into their new territory. But the mad scramble nearly costs Tim his life and limb, if it weren’t for a mysterious stranger saving his life. But it isn’t over and a clue is left behind

Tags: Violence

Dick let out a heavy breath as he tipped back in his chair, eyes straining from working at the computer for too long and legs, jelly and aching from standing for hours trying to piece together information the team had found while fighting the Light, while trying to pull up whatever he could on what had killed those men and what little he could find, any possible leads always went nowhere. No evidence of alien activity lately since the Reach, it was too sudden, no reported similar sightings or cases that led to their island and no motive except maybe revenge or a contract but those seemed unlikely as well, Dick couldn’t tell with so little evidence. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen sickos do things like this before, that’s why generally, the team is told to avoid Gotham, not because Batman was possessive but because only he knew how to handle cases like this. If Dick had to be frank, they were lucky to have to deal with alien invasions and crazy robots mostly. Difficult, but easy on the mind and eyes, most of the time. It was too easy to underestimate how perverse the mind of a human could become and the Joker was evidence of this. But he was only one psycho in the midst of seven billion other possibilities some, probably capable of sicker methods, less efficient but as long as it was...fun. And Dick had seen too many of these since he became Robin, it made him wonder how he managed to not go insane as well. He tapped a key on the console, which brought up a new window, the camera overlooking the team’s kitchen where they were all congregating, over cake. Bart eating most of it, as usual, and Dick remembered, the reason he hadn’t tipped himself over the edge, the Young Justice, the team he, Kaldur, SuperBoy and Wally started all those years ago, disobeying orders and causing mischief, were the ones keeping him together. He had to protect them, protect what they had. He sighed, closing the window, great job he was doing. If only Wally was still around. If only he could go back to the way things were, he missed the way he could goof off as Robin. But people grow up and superheroes grow up even faster, lose that innocence even before they could enjoy it. That’s just how it was. The responsibility grows heavy on his shoulders. It was easy to underestimate how cruel and disgusting the world could be. For their sake and Tim’s, he had to protect what was left.

Suddenly, the alarms began to wail and it startled Dick so hard that he fell out of his seat, instinctively, when he picked himself up he immediately dropped into his combat stance. Already, the rest of the Young Justice were running out though half in uniform, half not in Beast Boy’s case, who managed to pull on the top half of his suit but was still in boxers. M’Gann and Cassie were still in sleepwear.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked as soon as he reached Dick, now tapping away at the console, flicking through camera to camera.

“Not sure yet, but the perimeter sensors were tripped, we’ve got someone snooping around outside.”

“Sure it isn’t some deer or something?” Bart said earning him an elbow to the gut from Jaime.

“Course not, why would we put them there if they kept picking up animals.”

“Jaime’s right, those sensors are designed to detect intruders and suspicious activity, if they’re going crazy, there’s definitely someone out there,” Dick said, as he checked each camera, suddenly his eyes caught a fleeting shadow out of 14b, just outside the third entrance, west.

“There!” Dick turned to the team, “Alright, Robin, Superboy you guys are coming with me, everybody else, cover the exit points, make sure that whoever has trespassed doesn’t leave. We don’t have much time, let’s go.”

As Bart was the fastest, he was gone before any of the others had reached the mouth of the cave. Very soon, Robin, Nightwing and Superboy reached point 14b, right where the disturbance was picked up. Of course, there was no sign of anything but following in the direction of the shadow, they continued the pursuit.

“M’gann put us into a mind link.” Dick said through his comm.

“Already done,” came her reply.

“Kid-Flash, see anything?” Dick asked through the mental link as the three continued the chase.

“Nuh-uh, pretty dark here and all I see are trees and more trees, I must’ve run in circles about a dozen times now.”

“Keep looking, they can’t have gotten far.”

There was nearly no sound, nothing stirred, if this was an infiltration by the Light they would’ve come out by now for a fight and a large group geared to take down superheroes wouldn’t be this quiet. Dick grimaced, it could only mean one thing, that their murderer was prowling nearby. Time to change tactics.

“Listen up, I want everyone to take caution and keep a careful eye out,” he paused, “There’s a possibility that our mass killer is here. Engage from a distance if possible and pull out if you can’t beat him, I repeat, engage from afar, retreat if the threat is too much.”

Just as Nightwing was barking orders, Robin who trailed behind the two, looked to his left and noticed a glint of light, shining from the cover of bushes as they ran past. Suddenly he felt overcome with the urge to look, forgetting to notify Superboy or Nightwing, He slowed down to a stop, eyes still glued to the two little lights and began to walk towards them, all thoughts leaving him with only his overwhelming curiosity. As he got closer, he saw those two dots flicker and move, retreating further into the dark of the woods. Against all his trained instincts screaming at him, he followed them in. His legs taking him forwards until he was very much lost within the thick clumping of trees, in that exact moment, his senses returned and Tim realized he’d just broken off from the group without them knowing. He attempted to call out mentally but no one replied, his link to them broken or blocked somehow. He could feel fear slowly building up inside.

“Okay, breathe, you can do this,” he muttered to himself as he gripped his bo staff tighter, “You faced Killer Croc, Ivy, Clayface and Two-Face, you can beat this creep.”

He advanced, though he could try find his way back to the cave, but in the minutes he’d walked further on like a zombie, Tim was unsure of where his location was, and the forests surrounding HQ was, simply put, vast. With the mind link gone, he felt alone and lost. This was bad.

“Miss martian, Blue Beetle?”

No one answered as he called out loud, “Nightwing? Superboy?”

How far had he walked? This was embarrassing, getting so lost even though technically he was so close to base. And it looked like it was getting darker than night, the deafening silence surrounded him. There was no way one of them wouldn’t let him go with this, especially Gar. The thickening shadows was lowering visibility further and further that for some reason his night vision lens was becoming less effective, then without warning, they malfunctioned and he had to switch back to normal vision. This was bad, he shouldn’t have wandered forwards. Robin decided to turn on his heel and attempt to trace his steps back. The moment his back was turned, a large, roaring mass slammed into him, sending him down onto the ground with its weight pinning him there. Robin grunted and struggled, trying to unbalance whatever was crushing him. It growled in response and Robin felt its grip tightening, claws digging into his armour which must have made it through the first layer. He swallowed, sincerely hoping it was just Gar playing a stupid prank on him.

“If that’s you Beast Boy it’s not funny. Get. Off.”

Robin tried to elbow his assailant lightly, just enough to take Garfield by surprise and hopefully get him to move but when he swung, he realized that it wasn’t Beast Boy at all. Not with that growl, that look. He’d never seen a creature like it, a hulking, oozing beast that was more bone and spines than flesh, pus and boils covered what skin it had, and it’s teeth, oversized, filthy spikes, constantly drooling. It’s breath was reminiscent of any rotting thing Robin could remember. Nothing should be that hideous and yet here it was pinning him down and savouring the moment before it tears him apart. And all at once, he felt the terror rip through him. Thinking fast, he took out the taser and attempted to knock it out or at least stun it with a jolt. It roared and reared it’s ugly head for a moment, seemingly distracted Robin attempted to kick the beast off him but before he could wriggle away, it turned back to its prey, visibly irritated now. Great, he thought, that did nothing accept piss it off even more. Think Tim, his mind running through various scenarios, any possibilities on how to dislodge the creature. You’ve faced bigger, badder, uglies than this from invasions and mutants. Suddenly, Tim’s mind blanked as he watched the creature rear up, staring right into his eyes past the mask, reading him, his mind, his life and regurgitating all the negative things from the empty void. No soul, no life, not an extraterrestrial mammal built for survival. No words just things Tim could see in it’s glowing eyes, and he couldn’t look away. A deep guttural growl bellowed from it, the creature now bearing all its rotten teeth, black oozing from its jaws. It seemed to be laughing, he couldn’t tell through the fear that was now bubbling through. This thing was playing, a mortal toy in its grasp and it knew nothing Tim or anyone could do would stop it. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but wonder, if he’d see Jason. He wanted to shut his eyes tight but he couldn’t, that thing was holding his gaze, all he could do was hope for a quick end. The teeth and pain never came. Instead, he heard a distinct hissing followed by something far quicker than the eye colliding with the monster. Caught off guard it bellowed with a deafening roar and was launched away, and then, Tim couldn’t feel it pinning him down anymore. He propped himself up feeling the weightlessness again, almost lost in relief before his eyes blinked in the dark, seeing two glowing eyes not looking at him but past him. He still couldn’t move, something was nagging the back of his mind, his comms but his hands weren’t listening.

“Did you really think I would be fool enough to assume you and your damned ken wouldn’t follow me here? You think little of me.”

A figure emerged slowly from the shadows, glowing blue eyes stared down yellow ones. A young man maybe only a few years older than Tim, dressed in all black in what looked like a dress shirt and pants, grinning like a devil, he was oddly...attractive. Which was an alarming thought to have for someone who literally just walked out from nowhere, but unable to help feeling himself drawn to the stranger. If it weren’t for the blaring danger that he’d been trained to be aware of, he’d have forgotten entirely about the multi-legged slime monster growling from in front of him. He looked to and back from them both as they continued their little stare down. The man didn’t seem to have acknowledged his presence and the monster, he hoped, had temporarily forgotten about him.

“You,” it growled, oh, it talks, “I could smell you coming.”

The young man gave a dark chuckle, “Flattering, seeing how you chased me around I take it that you like it?”

“We will have you, your kind won’t hear you scream here,” the demonic hound growled, leaning back on its haunches.

“I think you will find I can fend for myself, mutt.”

At that, it launched itself with a screech at him, with Tim only just managing to scramble away. The stranger not missing one moment, reached behind him and brought that hand back around, a long weapon in his grip. The shaft slammed hard enough into the creature to hear a squelch and crack of what Tim could assume was bone and something else. He didn’t really want to think about what it was made of. The weapon was completely materialized by the time the monster had stumbled back on its feet. It resembled a bo staff like Tim’s except it was black, not painted, black like obsidian or onyx. Was it possible for a weapon to be completely forged out of a mineral? Attached at the end was a weighted blade, curved and warped, a series of sharp edges wrapped around a crescent.

“Now, depending on you answer, I can make this quick or you can make this enjoyable for me.” he said, whirling the staff in hand, “Where is he?”

The creature answered with a roar and pounced again, jaws gnashing. The strange took a step back and before it could come crashing down on him, he brought his knee back and up into the its gut. It howled and crumbled into a trembling heap, snapping at nothing. Tim watched as the stranger strode up to it, crouching just a couple of feet away.

“I’ll ask you again, where is Reavon?”

A low, wet sound rumbled from the creature, it took a moment for Tim to realize it was laughing. The young man instead of looking frustrated or even slightly offended, smiled. A smile disturbingly beautiful in this current moment. Before he took the creatures head, slowly and carefully twisting it off. Tim gaped in shock and horror, watching as the young man examined the head like it was an interesting object. Reaching inside and pulling out some kind of red matter. Tim couldn’t hold it in anymore and threw up.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to enjoy the sight but you have quite a weak stomach for a Gothamite.”

At that, Tim looked up in surprise, “How-?”

He attempted to scramble to his feet.

“I wouldn’t move yet, you’ve been caught in his curse,” the stranger took a step towards him, his hand reaching towards Tim, “This won’t hurt.”

“Tim!”

Suddenly, the sound of Dick’s voice calling his name brought him back to reality, he’s still on Mount Justice island, still alive. A sharp hiss like a snake brought his attention back to the stranger, his face pulled into a look of irritation. As backed up into the shadows again, his eyes turned back to Tim, giving a knowing nod and vanished. It seemed he didn’t plan on sticking around for them to question him. Tim wanted to call out, ask him to wait. Just as soon as the thought materialized, it vanished along with the stranger’s presence and his mind went blank.

Dick arrived in time to see Tim collapse back, slouching limply in a sitting position and just in time for his sharp eyes to catch part of a figure, disappear into the shadows. But his attention focused on Tim. H knelt by the boy, removing the mask.

“Hey, hey, you okay? What happened, are you hurt?”

Tim was unresponsive, numbly staring up at Nightwing’s eyes and occasionally glancing back at the mutilated monster and the space where the figure was only moments ago. Dick caught the look and followed his gaze behind him.

“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. He finally took the black mass in all its horrible detail, there’s nothing natural about it, things in places that didn’t make sense. Flesh that wasn’t really flesh at least not one kind of flesh, torn out and realized, this creature wasn’t built for survival, it was built to kill, built for fear. If the things Zatanna had told him about magic were true, he was looking at a good example of the bad kind. He checked Tim all over for any signs of injury, knowing these types they probably carried venom or worse in their bodies. Dick sighed in relief, luckily, Tim seemed fine on the outside but his eyes still stared blankly ahead, as if his mind had shut down. He had no way of helping him here, at least not out here while it was dark. They’d have to deal with any traumatic stress back at base. Sounds of leaves rustling and feet running approached and the other heroes finally caught up. Bart came to a skidding stop as he closed in on the scene, his eyes taking in the creature lying in a pool of its own blood. He replaced the mask over Tim’s eyes.

“Robin!” Connor ran up to the two, eyes widening in shock, “What the hell happened?!”

“He was attacked,” Nightwing stated bluntly, reaching into his belt.

“Yeah, I can tell! I want to know what the hell is that thing?” Connor’s voice was close to yelling his lungs out as he pointed one angry finger at the bloody mass. Which Bart was now toeing cautiously, then retreating with a shudder.

“Oh man, that’s nasty.”

“I don’t know, okay? Not exactly,” Nightwing took a swab of the substance that coated the Robin uniform, analysing it, he narrowed his eyes, “But I’ve got a gut feeling that says I need to talk to Zatanna.”

Superboy calmed down as his face settled into worry, he seemed to understand what that meant. Nightwing pocketed the sample and lifted Tim up, whispering something barely audible to the others. Tim finally nodded, blinking a few times and muttered something back, he dug the heel of his palm into his eyes.

“Is he alright?” M’gann asked, tentatively resting her hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Do I need to...take a look?”

“Not right now, let’s go back. We’ll let him rest then we can find out what happened here.”

Suddenly, something further into the distance caught his Dick’s eye. A small light, blue and shining in under the dark of the trees. He could be sure that it wasn’t there before when they passed. He paused for a moment, staring, a moment too long. Superboy’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“Here I’ll take him back,” Connor offered. Nightwing handed Tim over gratefully. The boy hung limp in Connor’s arms. He and watched for a moment while they flew away.

“Beast boy, Kid-Flash, M’gann come with me and M’gann, tell everyone you have on the telepathic network to return to base and stay there.”

When he looked, the light was gone but he had its approximate location, though the distance was uncertain. Nightwing led the group on. But was silent, no orders, no comments, just an unsettling silence even for him. M’gann watched him with concern. She could read his mind, know what he is thinking and it could help her act appropriately but he’d no straight away she used telepathy, that would be rude. She hung back a bit before deciding to speak up.

“You must be really worried, for Robin I mean. After what happened...last time, you must be terrified for him.”

Nightwing sighed, “I am, I don’t know what happened exactly, or what that thing is. But it could’ve killed him I’m sure of it. I got samples but I have a feeling it won’t answer our questions. Especially who got to him before us,” Nighwing paused, hands clenched, “M’gann, I wasn’t there, I didn’t save him. Someone did but I didn’t get there in time. If it weren’t for, I don’t know who, that thing could’ve torn him apart and I still wouldn’t make it there, to save him. Just like I couldn’t, for him”

The martian put her hand on Dick’s shoulder, “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself, you can’t be everywhere at once. I’m at fault too for not noticing. Compared to you, a lot of us have failed a lot more. I don’t want anything like last time to happen again either but blaming yourself, won’t help. We don’t even know what we’re up against.”

“Shouldn’t we?” Nightwing said a little to harshly. M’gann flinched, hurt.

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m letting it get to me. I just can’t be helpless, I can’t fail and lose my friends again.”

M’gann flung her arms around him, “Me too.”

“Hey guys, what’s that?” Garfield said, pointing a finger up ahead. It was the shining object again, it certainly was farther than Dick had expected, but it seemed no more and no less brighter.

“That’s what I saw earlier, could be a clue.”

“Or could be more of those things, eugh, I really don’t want to see those monster dogs up close and ready to eat us.”

As they walked towards the glowing object, the air seemed to change. A presence that pervaded all around them now, it was heavy and empty at the same time. For Dick, it almost felt like the time he walked through the cemetery at night to see his parents, an oppressive atmosphere that left him feeling empty and cold and frightened. He forced the sensation down and glanced at the rest of the team. Both Kid-Flash and Beast Boy looked twitchy, something that nagged at their every instinct while M’gann was beginning to falter, hovering closer and closer to the ground, he face scrunched up in discomfort or pain.

“Are you guys okay?”

“Don’t feel so good,” Gar said, his tone on the edge of queasiness.

“Me neither,” Bart added wobbly.

Garfield suddenly shifted into gorilla form, letting out a frustrated roar and beating his chest. For a moment, he almost seemed unable to recognise any of them, fearing an attack. Dick stepped up in front of him.

“Beast boy! Stop, hey it’s me,” he said, holding out both hands trying to calm down the disorientated shifter. Bart, wobbly on his feet had to lay down. Beast boy looked uncertainly at him, at Nightwing and M’gann who now hovered unstably above, then back at Nightwing.

“Easy there. You still with me?”

Gar nodded, finally speaking, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, just something messing with me.”

Whatever the glowing thing was, it was seemed to be affecting all but Dick. M’gann not much later couldn’t hold herself in the air anymore. She drifted just a few inches above the ground before landing unsteadily on her feet, stumbling towards Dick. He caught her just as she was about to fall, visibly in pain.

“Something is interfering with my psychic powers, it’s messing with my mind. Nightwing...”

“Stay here, don’t come any closer, okay, stay right here all of you,” he said as he gave her over to a gorilla beast boy. The object still glowed brightly but with how it was messing with all their powers, he left the rest behind. He could feel something but if anything, it was more like pressure, like someone had put him in a pressure chamber and turned it up to eight. His legs felt like they were slogging through marsh but nothing more. When he finally walked right up to the little dot of light, it dimmed considerably. Now he could see what it was. A small stone, crystal. Blue, somewhere between a sky and deep sea. He reached down hesitantly, tapped at it. No shocks or pain, so he picked up the crystal. It fit into the palm of his hand surprisingly no bigger than a pebble when it was shining so brightly only moments ago.

He turned it over, examining it, “What is this?”

“Nightwing!” he turned to see the other three making their way towards him, visibly disturbed but no longer in pain or discomfort.

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah, whatever was messing with our powers, it’s gone now,” M’gann said.

“I think it’s this,” Nightwing held up the stone had completely stopped glowing, turning into a deep midnight color, the surface was smooth as a gem and it felt like one to. If reflected light like a crystal normally would, he would’ve thought it was some kind of gem, like the one Klarion used before in his ritual. It was shaped like an opal. Truly like a pebble, if it wasn’t glowing, he would’ve missed it. The other’s looked curiously at it too. He observed how they seemed to be perfectly at ease now around it, now that it had stopped emitting that strange light.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine now,” M’gann said.

“Still a bit off from feeling the mode but all good.”

“Kinda weird though, I swear something was making me to go full ape, literally. Like it was talking to my instincts, that sound weird even in my head.”

The now dormant object had lost all of the oppressive aura from earlier, slightly cold to the touch almost too cold. M’gann used her telekinesis to hold the object aloft. It didn’t react.

“Whatever it is, it seems to have stopped for now. Let’s go back, I need to see what it is and where it came from.”

#tim drake #dcau #Young Justice #dark!tim

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toysoldiers-rwby · 4 years ago

Note

Hmm.. could you maybe write something where Winter doesn’t meet the HH in academy so when she does first meet them, maybe seeing them on TV about the election and she immediately goes, “Oh no they’re all hot!!”

RWBY V8 Countdown: 9 Days left!

Started before class, finished during it. hope it isn’t too messy Characters: Winter, May, Joanna Rating: General Audiences Word Count: around 1k tags: Humor

“Hey Schnee, you know that Marigold girl right?”

Being reminded about her father’s ties after finding out Weiss was gone, was not something Winter wanted to hear. She takes a deep breath and folds her hands behind her back.

Marrow’s eyes grow a little wide. His tail shrings between his legs and he fidgets around.

"Has this Marigold commited any crimes sever enough to concern us Specialist?"

“W-well… It could be a sever problem,” Marrow mumbled. Very unspecialist like. Winter scowls, glaring hard at him. He takes a deep breath and finally straightens out. Clover is being far to gentle with the boy. “May Marigold is leading Hill’s campaign for the Council Seat and their methods are-”

“Politics?” Winter scowls. The name doesn’t ring any bells. She was just a Marigold after all. “You’re bothering me about politics?”

“They’re methods are dangerous!”

“Then deal with it.” Winter said. She turns on her heels and marches back down to her office.

She has more important things to deal with.

They’ll need to send people to check the long range scanners. Need more ammunition for the turrets thinning the horde. More robots for the damn hole in the wall. At this point if they threw all the robot corpses and covered it with cement it would work. It would be better than nothing.

Another thing Winter disagrees with.

Winter sighs, collapsing into her chair. Her monitors catch the motion and flicker back to life. She finds Weiss’s pictures all over the monitor. Articles upon articles of the missing Heiress. Weiss’s fame shadowing over Klein’s dissapperane…

Her father wouldn’t be foolish enough to do anything that drastic. But she’s been gone for years. Maybe things got worse-

Winter cuts that thought.

She tought Weiss to defend herself. She was an acomplished fighter, at the very least. If Weiss did manage to run, she couldn’t have left the Kingdom. She would be in Mantle… if she was smart.

But her team RWBY has been having questionable effects on her little sister.

Winter straightens her back and checks her schedule. With no important meetings getting int he way, she beginnings her research, looking for any evidence for a small white haired girl roaming Mantle. One that can fight and defend herself.

What’s she get is an adorable Faunus- a regular Faunus girl. Short fluffy curls and cute sheep ears- and sheep ears. Winter sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Did she grab coffee before sitting down? When was the last time she ate?

Winter adjusts the filters… or was about to when blue hair and yellow eyes caught her attention.

You know that Marigold girl? She’s helping Hill run for Counsil…

Marrow’s words filter through her mind. Hill… That name was familiar. Another Atlas graduate? Definately not military. Meaning it was a Mantle Rat was running for election. Against her father.

If Winter wasn’t part of the military she would have definately enjoyed helping someone upstage that bastard. She researches that May Marigold next.

The only Marigold she can recall was a boy with trying to offer her flowers. Winter blushes at the memory, some sympathy sparking in her chest. It was only after that incident did Klein take a more active roll in her life.

He tried his hardest to teach her to be gentle, to be kind… There was only so much a bulter could. Yet he did more than enough. More than needed and always kept sneaking off treats and sweets to Winter and her siblings.

And he’s gone.

No where to been in Atlas. She makes Mantle her priority and calls for a transport.

During the ride she continues her research on this Marigold on her Scroll. Hill was easy to find. A top student’s santity is questionable for leaving Atlas. Winter can summerrizes all the lessons she’d taught her little sister. A smart person picks their battles. Stupid ones start losing fights.

Hopefully team RWBY wasn’t that bad of an influence on Weiss.

The third lesson was to never let your guard down.

Winter barely catches the Grimm lunging at her transport. She slices open the door first and jumps out. But another Manticore has her in it’s claws. It’s weak. More of an annoyance. Winter stabs her saber deep into its eye and summons-

The ground comes at her fast. Buildings already flying past her. Her Glyphs barely have time to form-

“Ow!” A blur of green and browns darts across the roof. The body tumbling and sprawling on her is far to soft to be Penny’s. It was definately still hard and- a women’s. Winter pulls her hands from her chest and gets to her feet. “Sorry, that was a lot smoother in my head.”

“You’re lucky I wasn’t a civilian,” Winter huffs.

The handsome women scowls and probs herself up, "Normal people say ‘Thanks you’ but… your an Atlesian…" The words drip off with some hint of remorse.

Winter scowls but there was something… familiar about the women. The photos mostly focused on Hill but there was always a green themed women at her side. So Winter bites her tongue, literally, and offers a hand.

The women grins and takes it- Winter could feel the power in her. The Aura, thrumming hot was almost startling. “Dont’ worry, we taught May some manners we can teach you some too. Like looking people in the eyes.” She says.

Winter stiffens and quickly moves off those chest and arms. She’s surprised that she needs to look up and the change of angle makes her breath catch. It wasn’t the winking and grin. “How about we start with names, princess?”

“Specialist Winter Schnee.”

“Joanna Greenleaf. If we don’t hurry up Penny will-” The women flies above head, giving the pair a wave before lasering down the Grimm in the streets. Within seconds the alarm stops and she’s meeting the huntresses at on the Street. “Thought we talked about this Penn? Leave some for me. All this campaigning is driving me crazy…” Joanna playfully grumbles.

So the women was part of Hill’s entourage.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Greenleaf!” Penny giggles behind a hand. “I think Fiona tought me another reponse for you. I believe the term was ‘Get good?’”

Joanna throws her head back and laughs. It hits a cord in Winter’s chest and rings in her ears. Winter pulls her eyes off the coat that threatens to rip apart at her muscles.

“Jeez Jo! Keep it down or you’ll bring in more Grimm!” Another women yells. The Marigold postures against the rail. Grin far to smug for a Marigold. She jumps down and Winter finders herself running because this was a Marigold an artistrocrate, a civilian.

“You could have gotten hurt!”

“Don’t worry, Winter, May Marigold is an acompished huntress!” Penny said. Winter scoffs but let Penny take the women in arms. She watches the surprised blush crawl up those ears. Two more people catch Winter’s eyes. Winter’s stuck staring. The beauty marks on Hill’s face didn’t show up that well in the photos. A crim really-

“Where was that attitutde when we were kids?” May mumbles, following her gaze. Then a grin splits across her face. “Oh. Oooh!” She stands next to Joanna who’s grin is almost just as smug. "Am I your type now?"

Winter nearly chokes, cheeks flushing hot. Ears burning in an unfamiliar way. “You’re…” The name dies on her lips but that grin was far too smug. “You’re Henry’s cousin! That Marigold!”

“Hey asshole! She’s more than a name!” The cute Faunus yells. She rushes over, linking her arms with May and glaring lightly at Winter. "Ugh. A Specialist."

Winter blinks. Unfamiliar with how she should be processing. Training sessionis emphasis that Specialist should disengage from hostile civilians. But the Faunus was another Atlas graduate.

“Play nice, lambchop,” Hill says. Winter’s feels the flush crawl further. Deeper into her cheeks. Her voice match those beutiful photos which should have been near impossible. Hill catches the stare. It’s a little thin. Dipolomatic and testing, “Nice to see the military finally doing their job.”

“Actually, it’s Winter’s break,” Penny interrupted. She tilted her head curiously at her. “Assigned break. Due to her habit of overworking herself. You’re temprature is quiet high, Winter.” The four women grinned. Fiona’s was particulously vicious for being so small and cute. “Are you alright? Did you finally get sick?”

“I- I’m fine.” Winter stuttered. May’s shit eating grin she had when they were children grew. Winter took a deep breath. “I came to ask Hill about non-military matters.”

“If it’s a date, that’s a No.” Fiona says arm possessively linked with Robyn’s-

“It’s not date!”

#rei-of-sunsh1ne #fic #requests #sorry this took so long #Winter Schnee #may marigold #joanna greenleaf #happy huntresses #very seasoned huntresses #rwby8 countdown #LOL i forgot to change the counter #fixed now

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! Skipped forward a couple years from the last chapter, and there’s a little bit of a hinting at some of Devon’s past. This chapter takes place during season 8, when Olivia was undercover in Oregon with Porter. The first bit is a blurb between the two chapters.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: panic attacks, rape mention (and a little description, but not explicit), lesbophobia, homophobia, briefest allusion to consensual sex (blink and you miss it)

Words: 8k+

Devon worked with Manhattan’s SVU department a handful of times since their first meeting. In that time, she had become closer to the detectives, especially Olivia and, by extension, Stabler. She and Stabler still butted heads every now and again, but they grew to respect each other’s methods, as Dr. Huang had predicted. As for Devon and Olivia, it was like having a sister that they never knew they wanted. As much as Liv loved her team, it was nice to have a woman to talk to about personal things, outside of the two women ADAs that SVU has had. And for Devon, though she’d never mention it to Liv or to herself, she gained a new best friend that didn’t so much “replace” Emma, but filled that spot for close female friend—though Devon made sure it never made it past that “friend” point, no matter how attractive Devon found the detective. She also knew that Olivia wasn’t interested in women, so Devon didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Plus, Devon didn’t really want to get close to someone she was working with; her heart still hurt when she attempted to dissect her feelings for Emma.

Unlike Devon’s other work acquaintances, they actually kept in touch pretty well; enough so that Devon even met Stabler’s wife and family, before they got separated. Devon was rarely called to the precinct, maybe only once every 3-4 months, so the only time they really got to chat in person was either on the job, or when they randomly got to meet for a nightcap or lunch.

It took Devon about a year to get into the rhythm of working with SVU—mostly because she wasn’t there often enough. For example, Devon always worked to protect the victims, whether they were held hostage or being trafficked around. SVU, however, was more about helping the victims, believing in their stories and helping them prove the abuser or perpetrator of their abuse. Putting the abuser behind bars. Getting enough evidence for a jury to convict them. In Devon’s line of work, the victims were being actively victimized; she didn’t need evidence, witnesses, or statements. Which is why the biggest fight she had was a year into the partnership with SVU, with ADA Casey Novak, and about testifying in open court.

“I’m not testifying! Stop asking!” Devon had yelled, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Novak had asked once before, while they were both watching an interrogation. This time, they were standing in the middle of Precinct 16, officers and detectives alike coming to a halt and turning to watch a federal agent and an ADA duke it out.

“I need you, though! Don’t you want to help put Ramsey behind bars?” Novak reasoned. She was keeping her voice level before, but it was rising now.

Devon rolled her eyes. Of course, she wanted Ramsey behind bars; he was a rapist pig. But she couldn’t testify, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to go down memory lane with someone she didn’t really know. Especially not an ADA, acquaintance or not. She suddenly wished that she hadn’t helped catch Ramsey, that she had stayed in the court-free FBI, but then squashed that thought down; they had needed her, and she was glad to have stopped him before he escalated to rapist and murderer.

“Casey,” Devon put a hand on Novak’s shoulder, noticing the unwanted attention from the officers watching and bringing her voice down. “I can’t testify. I need you to trust me on this. You’re a great ADA, you can do it without me.” It was true; Devon had read up on Novak’s conviction rate.

Novak gave her a long look, long enough that Devon dropped her hand back to her side. She took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to tell you is that if you do not testify, then I don’t think I’ll win this case.” She let her words sink in, then added in a near-whisper, “don’t make me subpoena you.”

Devon felt a weird twisting in her stomach; something she had never felt before. She tried to ignore it, look intimidating. “Is that a threat, counselor? Let me tell you what will happen if you don’t back off. I was offered an undercover in Iceland. Don’t make me go there until after this trial.”

Novak’s eyes narrowed. “You’d really flee the country on a bogus mission to avoid testifying? It’s not that bad; you just sit in a box and tell the truth.” If Novak continued talking, Devon missed it. In her mind’s eye, she pictured herself in the witness box. She looked over at the defense attorney, one from Devon’s nightmares. He was distorted, his smirk too large for his face, his eyes turning black. The courtroom was a dark red color, the gallery’s faces blank, emotionless. Devon’s heart started beating faster, tears welling then flowing down her cheeks.

“Devon?” Novak’s voice sounded leagues away. It wasn’t until Novak placed her hand on Devon’s arm that she snapped back to Precinct 16, ripping her arm away from Novak’s grip. The tears on her face were real, as was her frantically beating heart. For a moment, she thought she was having a heart attack. Her chest was heaving, she was gasping for air, but she couldn’t fill her lungs. She glanced at Novak’s worried face, vaguely noticed the detectives moving towards them. Devon turned and sprinted out of SVU’s department, pushing stunned officers out of her way. She ran past the elevator, heading for the stairs, taking them as quickly as her legs would carry. She didn’t know what was happening to her, all she knew was she needed fresh air. She made it to the bottom step before her legs gave out. She was shaking all over, openly weeping. She pulled herself across the ground, shoving herself in the corner of the stairwell, and curled into herself, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, burying her face into her knees.

She didn’t know how long she was there, shaking, crying, clutching her chest and trying to think about anything but the courtroom, that small witness box. When she raised her head from her knees, she found Olivia sitting on the stairs by her, looking concerned. But Liv knew better than to ask; she knew how to treat victims. It took another 10 minutes for Devon to stop crying before she told Liv what was happening—not the whole story, just her and Novak’s fight and what she was feeling now. Olivia, having been through this before both with victims and personally, explained what a panic attack was and how Casey must have said something that triggered that reaction. After making sure that Devon was alright, Liv assured her that she wouldn’t have to testify, that she should go home and relax for the day. Devon and Olivia grew closer that day, and it wasn’t long until Devon told Liv the whole story.

2 years later

Apartment of Devon Motely

Friday, July 27th 6:24am

Devon sighed as she let the hot water run over her, washing away the sweat from her morning gym workout and jog. The shower felt amazing, and she got out feeling refreshed, ready for the day. She was in the middle of drying off when her cell phone rang, the sound coming from her room. She hurried over to it, looking at the ID quickly before answering. Captain Cragen.

“Motely,” she answered, sifting through her closet for an outfit. Better grab something loose if she was going into SVU and whatever mess they needed her for. Mobility was a priority for her.

“It’s Cragen. Are you free to do an undercover for me?” Cragen replied.

Devon had just finished a stint of undercover for the Feds—only a month--so she was off for the next week or two, at least until her shrink cleared her; definitely free to help out the squad.

“Of course. How long?” she asked.

“Hopefully only for tonight.”

Oof, tonight? That was short notice. Well, she didn’t have any plans tonight, anyways. At least, not any important ones, unless she counted watching the baseball game and eating a pint of ice cream as important. Just “normal” things that helped bring her back to this life, not the made-up life of who she was for a month.

“I’ll be right there,” Devon said before hanging up. She honestly didn’t mind doing some field work for NYPD; it was nice having…easier cases. Not that they were easy cases but compared to the hell that she dealt with on a near-daily basis with the FBI, it was like a walk through the park. Except for the court stuff. Devon refused to testify, but she did offer to transport, protect, and support the victims or witnesses that did testify. And, thankfully, Novak had backed off from asking her.

It took Devon another 10 minutes to get herself ready. She was happy with her appearance, hoping that maybe the department wouldn’t change her outfit for the undercover op. She was in a scoop neck, plain black shirt and dark jeans. She thought about a light cardigan, but decided against it; it was in the 70s outside, plenty warm enough, even for her California skin.

SVU department

Friday, July 27th 7:14am

Devon had arrived at the precinct and sought out Cragen. The only detective she encountered in the precinct was Munch, looking annoyed at being there so early. She happily waved to him before heading to Cragen’s office. Cragen closed the door behind her and he filled her in on the details. There was an LGBT+ bar that was mostly used by lesbians and bisexual women, barely any men. But there was a group of men that would show up in the wee hours of the morning, right before closing, stalk a woman that would come out of the bar, and then beat and rape her. This happened 4 times in the past two weeks, and the DA is treating it as a hate crime against lesbians. Each victim recalled one or more of their attackers saying something along the lines of, “fucking them straight.” SVU was positive that one of the men in the bar was a part of the group and would target the women from the inside before leaving and notifying his buddies. SVU was a little short staffed, so Cragen opted to call in Devon for this.

“We’d like for you to be targeted by this group, or at the very least, find out who they are. We’ll have Stabler undercover in the bar to help keep an eye out, plus Fin and Munch on the outside, along with a temp transfer from Brooklyn, Detective Lake. You’ll be safe,” Cragen finished.

“I don’t doubt it,” Devon replied with a reassuring smile. She trusted the detectives to have her back. Though, she was curious as to why Liv wasn’t mentioned. Did this Lake replace her?

Cragen looked a little uncomfortable before saying, “I hope you don’t mind playing a lesbian.”

“Not at all. But may I ask why Olivia isn’t up for it?” Devon asked, trying to dig some information out of Cragen without asking outright.

“Uh, Detective Benson isn’t here right now.”

What? “She’s not here? Where is she?”

Cragen gave her a look. “I thought that you’d know better than I. The Feds came in and took her for an undercover assignment. Other than that, they’ve told me nothing.”

That took Devon aback; she had no idea. Not that she talked to every undercover agent or their case workers. She wondered if she knew her case worker, if she could find where Olivia was if she dug deep enough. Maybe Jenkins knew where she was. Why did the FBI even need her?

In an effort to keep the conversation light, Devon said, “Oh, so you’ve run out of female detectives to UC for you in a lesbian-dominated bar. Enter me, the only other woman you know.”

Cragen gave her a terse smile. “I do have another temporary replacement transferring in...whenever 1PP decides to actually send her. I would, however, like to get this mess taken care of now instead of waiting for a detective I don’t know.”

Devon let the conversation end there. She agreed with the Captain; she’d rather be doing this instead of some new detective that no one knew, or worse, trusted. As she left the office, she thought about the mission at hand. She honestly didn’t mind playing a lesbian; she was bisexual, anyways, so it wouldn’t be hard to feign interest in random bar tenets, no matter what their gender was. She thought about her wardrobe at home; did she have a more suitable outift for this? Or should she just let the department figure that out? She had until late tonight to get ready for it, but she knew the department; they liked to have everything planned out in advanced, to have their hands in everything. Plus, she still had to talk to Huang—or whoever the profiler they had on the case was—to make sure she knew what these dirtbags were looking for. She tried not to think about how terrible these men were; it was just making her more and more angry. She disliked rapists as much as the next person, but this hit close to home; hate crimes against queer women. She was getting tired of how men were treating them.

Coming out of Cragen’s office, she saw that Fin and Stabler had arrived at work; both were at their desks, starting in on today’s crap. Then there was the new guy; at his desk talking to Fin idly. He was attractive, his tanned skin stark against his loose white shirt. He looked over at Devon and smirked. Devon greeted the others before heading towards Detective Lake. Might as well introduce myself, she thought. He was supposed to be one of the detectives watching her back tonight, anyways.

“Detective Lake? My name’s Devon Motely,” she greeted him, holding out her hand. He took it, giving her a hearty handshake.

“Don’t let her play you,” Fin said, jokingly. “She’s a Fed.”

Devon rolled her eyes, looking faux-offended. “Wow, Fin. Tell him how you really feel about me.”

Fin shrugged. “Hey, he’s here as my partner. I gotta tell him how it is.” That caught Devon by surprise; Fin’s partner and not Stabler’s?

“Why did Cragen call in the big guns? Are you here for that lesbian case?” Lake asked.

“That would be correct, yes. Can you not tell I’m gay just by looking at me?” Devon retorted. Yep, SVU’s humor was definitely rubbing off on her.

Lake’s ears turned red, but Munch came to his rescue, piping up, “ah, that would explain why you can work with all these guys without getting distracted by our rugged good looks.”

“Man, no one is thinking that about you,” Fin replied, waving his arm at Munch.

Munch huffed, glaring at Fin over his glasses. “This is why we’re not partners anymore; you can’t even back me up on this.”

As much as Devon wanted to hang around and joke with the detectives, she was there to do a job. She gave them a half-hearted wave, then went to find Dr. Huang, who Cragen did confirm was the profiler on the case. She found him upstairs, pouring over files, coffee in hand.

“Hey George. Whatcha got for me?” Devon asked playfully, still grinning from the conversation downstairs; even up here, she could hear the guys ragging on each other. She took a seat across from him and picked up one of the files. The pictures of the woman’s injuries took the wind out of her sails.

Huang gave her a smile and a hello before answering, “I take it Cragen called you in on the lesbian hate crime?”

“You’d be correct.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “How does that make you feel?” Huang knew about Devon’s sexuality, not that she kept it private. But it also wasn’t something brought up in conversation often. Actually, she didn’t know if the other detectives, outside of Olivia, knew. The joke just now was the first time it came up, and she didn’t know if they had taken her seriously or not.

“Pissed off. Why can’t men just…leave women alone?” she asked, exasperated. “I know that it’s more than that, but god, it’s infuriating.”

Huang nodded. He knew what she meant. “Can you keep your cool for this?”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Of course, I can. Just, don’t hold it against me if I punch one of those men in the nose.”

Huang smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Let’s get you up to speed.”

They both spent the better part of the morning going over what little description there was of the men, what the victims had said, done, been wearing—all the things that could be seen as a slight against a man’s fragile ego. In each case, a man would approach the woman at the bar, though it wasn’t clear if this man was in on it or not, but it was a constant in each case. The man, described as a “frat boy but in his 30s,” would hit on the women, using pick-up lines so bad, they couldn’t even be considered pick-up lines. In all four cases, the women shut him down quickly, all of them rude to the man—a little piece of information that Devon deemed important, squirreling it away into her mind. The man would then leave, though the women didn’t notice if he went to bother someone else or left the bar altogether. Then, with times ranging between 1 and 2am, the women left. The days were different, so it wasn’t a habitual thing; they couldn’t predict when it would happen. As the woman walked down the street, heading home or to a friend’s place, they were attacked from behind. They all claimed that they were pushed into an alley and then were restrained. They claimed something would pin down their limbs and torso. Only one woman was able to tell that one such item was a baseball bat; the others claimed something cold and metallic. None of the women could tell how many men attacked them, ranging from between four to as many as eight. All of them were raped twice, and the men wore condoms. No chance at IDing them with DNA.

By the time Huang had gone over all the details from all four rape cases, Devon needed a bath. Or a couple shots of whiskey. Or both. She felt anger, downright hatred, and a strong urge for revenge, even though she didn’t know the victims personally. That was the thing about SVU; the victim’s pain became the detective’s, or in this case, the agent’s. She fought down the feelings of loathing; they wouldn’t help her here. She needed to play it calm, collected, the way she always did in an undercover op. Thanking Huang for all the information, she headed to the department’s undercover section, allowing them to pick out her outfit and makeup. Now came her least favorite part, having them paint her face.

Lumber Jill’s Bar

Saturday, July 28th 12:38am

Devon was at the bar, drinking a Dirty Shirley through a straw. She had been in the bar for about an hour now, opting to get there early, just in case the pattern changed; there were a few groups of people around. Some came with friends, others had met here, whether for the first time or as a plan, Devon didn’t know. Stabler had come in after Devon had relayed that a couple of other men had showed up, though none matching the description they were looking for. Stabler had decided to sit in a dimly lit booth, going mostly unnoticed, but having a vantage point to where he could see Devon, the front door to her back.

At first, Devon wasn’t sure this was going to work; the department dressed her in a tight black tank top with a light flannel jacket, and matching tight jeans, the fabric ripped above the right knee. She looked like a man had dressed her up to play the bitchy lesbian in a bad horror film. Devon fought to change clothes, but ultimately lost the argument. At least the makeup was more subtle. It wasn’t until Devon sat down and got a couple of, frankly unsubtle looks and even some flirting that she realized they may not have entirely screwed this up.

Devon had started her night by drinking a normal Shirley Temple—Sprite and cherry syrup—knowing that she shouldn’t drink during an operation. That is, until a beautiful brunette had bought her one with vodka in it.

The bartender placed the drink in front of Devon, and before she could object, the bartender said, “Dirty Shirley, compliments of Lily.” She smirked and pointed out the woman sitting across the bar from Devon. The woman, Lily, smiled coyly before taking a sip of her own drink, causing Devon to forget how to breathe temporarily. Undercover or not, Lily was the most beautiful woman Devon had ever seen. And she had bought her a drink? Devon felt like a damn high schooler, sitting there slack jawed, staring at the woman. Lily snickered, snapping Devon back to reality. She awkwardly lifted the drink in a thank you before slamming it in one quick motion. She then stood up and practically ran to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, ignoring the makeup the department plastered her with—she learned then that it was waterproof.

“Everything okay?” Stabler’s voice whispered in her ear, causing her to jump. She had the earpiece in for so long, she had forgotten it was there.

“Just a quick bathroom break,” Devon said into her mic. She wasn’t used to being mic’d up; the FBI had listening devices in every kind of accessory anyone would need. Devon’s favorite was a pair of square glasses, or a flashy gold bracelet. Tonight, though, she had the NYPD’s normal wire-up-the-shirt mic, taped to the inside of her bra. She looked into the mirror, tried to work up the courage to turn down Lily. Even if she didn’t entirely want to. It had been almost a year since the last time Devon had a partner to warm her bed; actually, Devon warming someone else’s bed was more accurate. She kept her work life and her social life—sex life—separate. She even used a fake name, a shortened version of her middle name, just so that they couldn’t find her after their one-night stand, no matter who it was. It wasn’t like she hated the thought of relationships, but she was afraid that anyone she would date may be put into harm’s way. She was an FBI agent; she had enemies. She ignored the side of her that tried to remind her that she was also afraid of opening up to people, of getting close to anyone. The last time she even entertained the idea of dating someone, they were shot in the head.

Devon mentally shook herself; she couldn’t be thinking of relationships, dating, or feelings, especially when she had decided that she was going to turn down Lily. She took a deep breath then headed back to her seat at the bar. Lily was no longer there, though. After a few minutes of searching the bar area, Devon found her sitting at a booth with three other women, laughing at whatever joke was said. God, her smile lights up her face perfectly, Devon thought before shoving the thought aside. She turned away, remembering why she was there, and took her seat at the bar again, flagging the bartender.

She did stick with drinking alcohol, though, something Devon had never done before; she never drank while working. She vaguely noticed Stabler giving her a look when she had ordered—alcoholic drinks came in different glasses than non-alcoholic. If he had any complaints about her drinking, however, he didn’t mention it. Besides, who knows? Maybe the men wouldn’t show up tonight; it was nearing 1:30am, and no sign of the suspect. Maybe Devon could spend the night with someone; she was feeling lonely, if not sexually frustrated. Damn, she shouldn’t have gone to the bathroom, she shouldn’t have opened this door in her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when Stabler’s voice came through her earpiece again.

“Group of six guys just came in, looking like trouble,” he went quiet while he watched them—Devon avoided turning to look, relying on Stabler’s assessment—before he continued, “looks like the leader is coming to you.” Devon mentally braced herself as a man slammed an arm down on the bar next to her, standing way too close for comfort. She could smell the Axe Body Spray radiating off him.

“Hey honey, you look sad. Want me to cheer you up?” he asked in a way that made it sound like it wasn’t a question.

“Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?” Devon replied. Devon remembered that the women reported being rude to the man at the bar, and “rude” was Devon’s middle name.

The man scowled, “I don’t need a line to pick up hot chicks at a bar. Women flock to me.” Devon took this time to look at the man, carefully crafted disgust on her face—not like it was too hard to fake--and glanced him up and down. He was in his early to mid-30s with shaggy blonde hair. He was wearing a red polo shirt and cargo shorts. He almost looked like if he stepped out of a frat house, but never grew out of the mindset. All he was missing was the backwards ball cap. Everything about him screamed creep-who-was-full-of-himself-and-didn’t-hear-no…and he matched the victim’s descriptions perfectly. The fact that he came in with five other men was as much of a green light as Devon needed. She could at least get him for harassment if he somehow wasn’t their perp.

“Uh huh. Well, why don’t you try and flock elsewhere? No ‘hot chicks’”—she did air-quotes around the words—“are going to be interested in you here. You’re not our type,” Devon said, rolling her eyes as if she were stating the obvious.

The man’s face was turning red now. “Oh yeah? Well, no one’s calling you a hot chick,” he spat.

“Then why are you even talking to me?” She glared at him, then, putting all the venom she could muster into her voice, dismissed him, “get lost.” The man gave her one last death glare before turning and heading back to his buddies.

“If that’s not at least one of the guys we’re looking for, I’ll eat my jacket,” Devon whispered into her mic.

“I’d take that bet, except I’m almost 100% positive that he is our perp. We won’t know until you leave, though,” Stabler replied. “Let me go first, wait five, then come out and take a left. Walk naturally.” As if he needed to tell Devon how to do her job.

“You alright, honey?” the bartender asked.

Devon put on a smile. “Yeah, that guy was a dick, though. Does he come in often?”

The bartender glared at the door, as if the man might come back, before answering, “I’ve seen him only a couple of times, now. Him and his buddies. They seem to try and start shit with someone at the bar, but leave before I can officially kick them out. I don’t know how they always seem to come in when my back is turned.” Devon nodded. If that were true, then him and his group could very well be the rapists they were looking for.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stabler get up, pay for his beer, and leave. Thankfully, it was pretty busy at this point; the bartenders didn’t notice a man sitting by himself in a mostly lesbian bar, nor the fact that he left so abruptly, even though they should’ve been on high alert after the group had left earlier. Devon sipped at her drink before hailing the bartender and paying. When she stood, she was a little shocked to feel how light her head was. She didn’t think she drank that much, but oh well. She wasn’t too far gone, just a happy buzz. She made her way out, glancing around the bar once more. She saw Lily, still laughing with her group. Stamping her lust down, Devon headed out the door.

It was a nice night, even this late…well, early. It was a balmy 60 degrees, perfect temperature to Devon. She pulled the flannel around her in what she hoped looked like a nervous manner before taking off in a brisk walk down the street she and the SVU detectives agreed upon earlier that day. It didn’t take long until she heard footsteps behind her. She kept her pace as normal as she could; being an undercover agent meant she had the skills to act natural, but being a woman meant she had the instincts to speed up, to protect herself. It was hard fighting those instincts as she heard the footsteps moving faster, jogging after her. Fuck training, she thought as she whipped around to confront her stalker. She was stunned when she saw that it wasn’t the creep from the bar, but Lily trying to catch up with her.

“Wait,” she said a little breathlessly. Devon fought the blush that she knew crept across her face. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh, uh, it’s Olivia,” Devon replied, silently cursing herself; it was the first name she thought of. How’d she forget her own fake cover name?

Lily smiled at her, having caught her breath. “What a beautiful name.”

God, how is her voice this pretty, too? Devon thought. She pushed away the accompanying thoughts about what that voice may sound like in a bedroom. “N-nice to meet you,” Devon stammered out, face flushing. Keep it in your pants, Motely, she thought to herself, embarrassed that just talking to this woman turned her into a blushing mess. Devon had heard of the term “disaster bisexual” before, but never attributed it to herself…until now.

Lily laughed and Devon thought her face would explode with how hot it was getting. “Same to you…would you like to come back to my hotel room?” Lily asked. Wow, that was blunt.

Devon’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth as she fought against herself. God yes, was her first thought. She damn near jumped out of her skin when she heard Stabler clear his throat awkwardly in her ear. Right, she was still mic’d up, and while it was only Stabler who was talking to her, she knew that all the other detectives could hear the conversation. Great.

“Are you alright, love?” Lily asked, concerned. She put a hand on Devon’s shoulder to try and stabilize her. Devon felt electricity through the touch as she struggled controlled herself.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. I, uh, I’d love to go with you. But, uh, could we maybe raincheck until tomorrow night?” Devon asked, her voice rising an octave. Lily had only a moment where her face fell, when Devon heard more footsteps.

Suddenly the group of six men from the bar appeared out of nowhere around the two women, Red Polo Shirt holding a bat and pointing at Devon. Well, seems like they were their perps, and that they were breaking pattern tonight; attacking two women and not blitzing them from behind. Instantly, Devon’s mind snapped back to calm, calculating, collected; her normal field agent’s instincts returning. She felt like herself again, adrenaline pumping through her veins—she felt alive.

“You ain’t going anywhere tonight,” Red Polo Shirt announced. Devon looked around, trying to gauge the situation. They were on a sidewalk, no lights except for a couple dull streetlamps. There was a building at their backs, six men in a half circle around them. Besides Red Polo Shirt and his bat, Devon saw that only three of the other five men were armed: one also holding a baseball bat and two with what looked like metal bars. All things that could be used to hold down someone while the unarmed did whatever they wanted to the victim.

“Get out of here, you bastard,” Devon said as clearly as she could. ‘Bastard’ was the code word that her and the SVU detectives had agreed upon before.

“Move in,” she heard Stabler say to the rest of the team. Hopefully, they were close. But until then, it was stalling time.

Red Polo Shirt drew Devon’s attention back to the scene when he took a couple steps closer. The other men followed suit, effectively closing the semi-circle around her and Lily. They were maybe twenty feet from the women now; close enough that the space between the men were almost non-existent. Lily got closer to Devon, and Devon shifted so that Lily was partially behind her. “You just don’t know how to not be a bitch, do you?” the man called out loudly, making his friends laugh.

“And you don’t know how to take rejection,” Devon replied. Her whole body was tense, mind frantically trying to find a way out of here, or a way to stall further.

Lily moved closer and whispered in Devon’s ear, “maybe we shouldn’t upset them.” Her voice was laced with fear, and Devon felt the sudden need to protect Lily, to never let fear taint that pretty voice again. No matter what happened, Devon would make sure that Lily made it out of this unharmed.

Red Polo Shirt frowned. “See, this is what you bitches deserve. You need a good man in your life to teach you your place.” Well, if there was any doubt in Devon’s mind about this group of guys being her target, it was gone now. She backed up, and Lily followed suit until they were up against the wall. Devon’s mind flew into overdrive, trying to figure out a way out of this; if Stabler and the detectives weren’t there soon, then there was going to be a fight. Devon was confident in her fighting abilities, but even she knew that six against one was a losing battle. She was unarmed, plus the fact that she now had a civilian to protect. The two unarmed men were on either side of her and Lily, the two closest to the wall. Devon could feasibly rush one of them and shoulder her way past; that would just lead to a foot chase, with her hopefully being fast enough to outrun them until help arrived. But would Lily be able to make it out of there, too? In the heels Devon noticed she was wearing, she highly doubted she could run at all…though she had jogged to catch up with Devon in the first place. Maybe she was one of those women who learned to run in heels, in case something like this happened.

Thankfully before Devon had a chance to find out, a cop car appeared on either side of the group, sirens and lights only going off once the group was blocked off, so as not to startle them into running. Stabler and Munch launched out of one cruiser, guns drawn, while Fin and Lake hopped out of their car.

“Freeze, NYPD!” Stabler yelled. The two unarmed men instantly had their hands up. The two with metal bars let them fall from their hands, clattering to the ground, while they rose their hands. The other man with a bat attempted to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Lake. Red Polo Shirt cursed loudly before throwing his bat on the ground with a loud clang and raising his hands.

“We didn’t do nothing wrong,” he called out to the detectives.

“Yeah yeah,” Stabler replied, keeping his gun trained on him as he inched closer, pulling his cuffs from his pocket. Fin and Munch started cuffing the other men who were still standing. More cop cars arrived on the scene, officers rushing to help the detectives apprehend the suspects.

Devon walked over to Stabler, smiling, “thanks. I owe you one.”

“At least you don’t have to eat your jacket,” he replied, making Devon laugh, nerves still buzzing. Stabler gave her a grin before looking over her shoulder, subtly nodding to something behind her.

Devon suddenly remembered Lily, who hadn’t moved from her spot against the wall, still looking alarmed. Her eyes roamed over the scene before landing on Devon’s. She turned back to Stabler, taking the earpiece out and pulling the wire from under her clothes. She dumped them unceremoniously into Stabler’s hands before heading back to Lily. He gave her a subtle thumbs up before leading Red Polo Shirt to his squad car.

“Hey, you alright?” Devon asked once she was close enough.

“I—yeah. What just happened?”

Devon didn’t want to dive into the heinous details of the investigation, nor did she want to explain how she had lied about her name earlier. But she also didn’t want to lie now, either. “Long story short, I was working undercover to bust some homophobic, misogynistic assholes. And I think I just did.”

Lily looked her up and down. “So, is that why you turned me down earlier, Olivia?” Her eyes widened as if something just became clear. “Is that even your real name? Are you even attracted to women?”

Devon hated the accusatory tone in Lily’s voice, though she understood it. She also hated that she was going to lie to her once more. “My real name is Ryn,” she swallowed the nasty taste it left in her mouth--it was short for Kathryn, her real middle name—then continuing, “and yes, I am attracted to women.” Lily still looked skeptical, so Devon jokingly added, “I mean, who wouldn’t be after seeing someone as stunning as you?”

That made Lily smile. “Really? A pick-up line? Haven’t I already invited you back to my place?”

Devon’s cheeks warmed. “Ah, yes, you did. I’d also like to take back my earlier response in place of a new one.” Lily nodded, a smile dancing across her lips. “I would be delighted to go back to your place.” Especially now, with all the adrenaline still coursing through Devon’s veins.

SVU Department

Monday, July 30th. 8:00am

Devon practically bounced into the 16th Precinct feeling lighter than she had in months. She still felt a little bad about lying to Lily, leaving early enough in the morning that Devon never even had to speak to her, Lily’s sleeping form breathing deeply in the hotel bed, clothes thrown around the room. But it was normal to Devon; form no attachments. She didn’t have the time to even think about seriously dating; work was her number one priority and hooking up when she was stressed seemed to be the easiest answer. Not only was she on-call at all hours of the day, every day, she also went on undercover cases for months at a time. How could she devote herself to someone when she couldn’t even devote time to herself? Work came first. Always.

Devon shook herself, forcing herself to remember why she was there in the first place. Stabler had texted her, letting her know that they were about to start the interrogations of the men from the bar. He had asked if she wanted him to wait for her and was elated when she said yes. I’m alright with letting these guys sweat for a little, he had written back. Devon smiled and waved at the detectives as they drank their coffee, trying to wake up. She never did understand how officers were not morning people.

“Hey Dev,” Stabler greeted as she made her way into the observation room. Devon grinned in response and looked through the glass. Red Polo Shirt was alone in the room, still in the same clothes from Saturday night. Sometimes, Stabler could be cruel, leaving a perp to stew all weekend in the cage. Not that Devon was feeling particularly bad for this piece of scum.

“He say anything interesting?” Devon asked. Even if Stabler left him and his buddies to sit all weekend, that didn’t mean that they were ignored. There were officers that worked weekends and would pay attention to anything the perps in the cage would say.

“Just a lot of cursing and complaining.” So, no confession yet? That shouldn’t be too hard to pry out of him.

“Hmph. Hopefully he’s as stupid as he looks,” she said. Just then, Fin and Lake entered the observation room, along with Captain Cragen.

He gave Devon a nod in greeting before instructing, “Fin. Stabler. You’re up.” The two detectives nodded, making their way into the interrogation room. Cragen, Lake, and Devon watched as Fin took the lead as bad cop, while Stabler took the sympathetic cop. Devon had done only a handful of interrogations in her career, which is why she enjoyed watching these guys do it. They were good; if she didn’t know Stabler any better, she’d believe his act of being a woman-hating, misogynistic bastard. Shockingly, though, Red Polo Shirt—Richard Morrisen—wasn’t confessing easily. Devon had been positive that it was going to be a slam dunk, yet Richard seemed to only be interested in screaming profanities at the detectives.

After about an hour, Cragen pulled the detectives out. They were getting nowhere, and Devon could tell that the whole squad was getting frustrated.

“Guy just won’t stop running his mouth,” Fin said as the interrogation door closed behind him. “At least he ain’t asking for a lawyer yet.”

“What now?” Devon asked. She’d never seen the detectives not get a confession before. Though, she’d only sit in on a couple interrogations; she was usually busy with another case before they finished processing whatever case she had helped them with.

“Now, we call Novak, see if we can set up a line-up,” Cragen replied.

While the detectives were setting that up—most of the time was spent getting lookalikes for six different line-ups—Devon took the time to talk with Detective Lake. Temporary assignment or not, it was always good to meet, actually meet, the people that Devon was going to be working with, even if this was only a one-time thing; something they wouldn’t know for a while.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day,” Devon said, leaning against the man’s desk. Devon had said only one sentence to the detective, but the look on his face said enough in response.

“Nah, just caught me off guard. It’d take more than that to make me uncomfortable,” Lake replied, chuckling.

“Good, I’m glad,” Devon smiled. “Though, the thought of Munch as someone with ‘rugged good looks’ is slightly disturbing.” That made Lake laugh, his shoulders relaxing. Devon wasn’t great at making friends, but she was glad to see that she could at least make people laugh.

When he stopped laughing, she saw his body language change again; nothing big, but a clench of his teeth, his back stiffening slightly, and she knew he was nervous about asking this next question. “I mean, Munch isn’t really…your type, is he?”

Devon never understood why people were so interested in sexuality. She knew that for some people, it was an important label, a type of identity that people could spend years figuring out. But why people felt the need to ask others, especially when faced with the fact that they may not be straight, she just didn’t get. But Lake seemed to be genuinely curious; besides, Devon was a hard person to offend.

“I mean, he’s old enough to be my father. So, I’d say no, he’s not my type. I tend to look for people around my own age,” Devon said, smirking. Her use of the word “people” didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well, do you think that…I would be more your type?” He kept his cool when asking, the only signal of his nerves showing as his ears reddened.

Oh, so that’s it, Devon thought. She looked at Lake, really looked at him. He was slightly taller than her, lean but built, and very attractive. But he was also an SVU detective, someone that she may have to work with on a constant basis, which went against her one-night stand mentality.

“If you weren’t in the same line of work as I am, then yes, probably. But as it stands, I have a strict no-dating-your-coworkers rule,” Devon said, keeping her voice as light and neutral as possible. No one liked rejection.

Even so, his face fell, just slightly. “No, I get it. That makes sense.”

Before the awkwardness could continue, Novak came out of the observation room, signaling for Devon to come over. She gave Lake a small smile and wave as she went to talk to the counselor. Novak said nothing as she closed the door behind the two of them, sealing them from the rest of the squad.

“Devon, I know you’re going to hate me, but just understand that I would not ask this of you unless it was a necessity,” Novak blurted out. “I need you to testify in this case.”

“Casey--,” Devon started, but Novak cut her off.

“Listen to me. Out of the four victims, only two of them could ID any of the assailants, and even then, they only ID’d the two unarmed men as the rapists. Unless the detectives can get a full confession, then I have nothing except you tying these pigs to the assaults.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. After Novak asked two years ago, causing Devon’s panic attack, Devon had been having recurring nightmares at least once a month. Always in a witness box. Always in a courtroom. Devon fought through the fog in her mind, trying to find any way out of this. Suddenly, a thought struck her.

“What if I interrogate Morrisen? He hates me, hates women; I’m sure I can get him to tell me every horrible thing he wanted to do to me,” Devon reasoned. Her brain had latched onto the idea, refusing to let it go. It was a life preserver in the ocean of darkness that was the courts.

Novak sighed heavily. “You get one chance. If you don’t get a confession, though, I’ll have to prep you for testifying.” Devon would not let that happen.

“Come in with me; SVU doesn’t have another woman to spare,” Devon said instead of answering. Without another word, Devon led Novak to the interrogation room from earlier, Morrisen in the same seat, slumped over onto the table, clearly tired.

“Oh, so now they send the skirts in after me,” Morrisen croaked out. Then his eyes locked on Devon’s. “Wait, you’re that bitch from the bar!”

“That’s Special Agent Bitch to you,” Devon responded.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute. You mean you’re a cop? Isn’t that, uh…entrapment or something?”

Devon let out a low whistle. “Wow, that was a three-syllable word. I didn’t think your vocabulary was that enriched.”

Morrisen gave Devon a confused look. “No, it’s not entrapment. No one made you harass women at a bar,” Novak said.

Morrisen’s eyes moved over to her. “I didn’t harass nobody. Those bitches got exactly what they wanted, what they deserved,” he sneered.

Wow, this is easier than I thought it’d be, Devon thought. “Are you sure it’s what we wanted? Because I distinctly remember telling you to ‘get lost,’” she said. Let’s see if we can lead him to it.

Morrisen gave Devon the greasiest, creepiest smile that she had ever seen before replying, “your mouth said no, but your eyes were all over me.”

God, I need a nice, long shower after this, Devon thought, suppressing a shudder. “Trust me, Richard. No one wants whatever it is you think you can give them.”

Morrisen’s smile turned into a scowl as he jumped up from his seat, sending the chair toppling over behind him. Novak gave a startled jump, but Devon held her ground; she didn’t even flinch.

“You know what I gave those stuck-up sluts? I gave them just what they wanted! They needed some rough and tough lovin’ from yours truly. Once you go Dick,”—he pointed at himself—“you never go chick.”

Devon was feeling fully disgusted at this point. She looked at Novak as if to ask is that a good enough confession? Novak shook her head, and Devon looked back to this scum.

“Wow, did you think of that line all by yourself? Tell me; why did someone as…’rough and tough’ as you need a posse of five other men to help you assault those women? I mean, if that’s what they all wanted, why use a baseball bat to hold them down?”

Morrisen smirked, picked up his chair and sat down triumphantly in it. “Sometimes, I like to spread the love around, ya know what I’m saying? Those other guys may be my bros, but they don’t got game like I do. It’s kinda like doing some community service.”

Devon sat down across from him. “Oooh, so you’re the good guy in all of this, helping your bros out. How exactly do you help them?” she asked, leaning on her elbows on the table.

It took about another 30 minutes to get the whole story out of Morrisen. Once he started talking, he didn’t stop. Novak, to her credit, had taken out a small recorder, informing Morrisen that his conversation would be recorded. He didn’t seem to care; actually, he seemed to like the attention of two beautiful women listening to his assaults. By the time he had finished, and Devon and Novak left the room, they both felt sick to their stomachs.

“I think I need to bathe in hand sanitizer,” Novak mumbled.

“Can I join you?” Devon replied. She gave the counselor a small smile before asking, “so, am I off the hook?”

Novak sighed. “For now, yes. I should be able to put Morrisen and his gang behind bars for quite a while. Besides, during his confession, he also indirectly admitted to the hate crime. I doubt this will go to trial; they’ll probably all plead out.”

Devon felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Novak gave her a long look. Devon raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for Novak to say whatever was on her chest. “Look, Devon. I…understand you have a phobia of testifying. But I want to help you through it,” Devon opened her mouth to object, but Novak continued on. “I’m not going to force you to testify, or to do anything you don’t want to. But I’d like for you to come by the courthouse one day. I think it may help you to sit in the gallery during a trial…. Or, at least come with me into a courtroom after it’s closed. No one will be there; just us.”

Devon thought about it. She was touched that Novak wanted to help her with her fear, even if it was for her own personal gain; if she could get Devon over her fear, then she’d be able to testify in later cases. But the thought of sitting in on a trial was enough to make her heartbeat faster.

“Can—can we start with the latter?” Devon asked, her voice faint. She didn’t trust herself enough to speak louder.

Novak smiled. “Of course. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Devon returned her smile despite herself.

#everyone deserves love #edl #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #law & order svu #law & order svu fanfic #rafael barba x reader #barba x oc #my writing #fanfic #everyone deserves love ch 2

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thelittlestcheshire · 4 years ago

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Self Para 005: The Reminders Pull the Floor From Your Feet

Note: For starters, this takes place on Saturday. This involves the Leo plot, and for the most part it’s... lots of Ches’s thought process leading up to her visiting Leo. Any interactions with people are lead up / not really... the majority. So please, tread carefully. I was careful to avoid going too deep into her more... brutal thought processes in hopes of ensuring it’s not too triggering but given the context I do feel a need to mention it. I do discuss her finding her brother after his attempt a little bit too, so, please pay heed to the tws and if you think it may be an issue, I strongly urge you skip this self para. I love you guys, and your safety is the biggest priority always <3

TWs: Suicide / Suicide Attempts, Decapitation / Murder (mentioned in a comment about how displeased Leo will be to see her), Hanging, Amputation, Ches’s thought process while shopping does include her making considerations about what she can buy Leo can’t hurt himself with so I don’t know how to tag that but I am aware it could be triggering.

For once, Ches didn’t know how she was expected to react, but she was sure it didn’t align with how she currently felt as she tore through her wardrobe to try to find something to wear. What even was appropriate to wear today? Colors were too cheery, white too saintly, black was a staple in her wardrobe and entirely off the table. Everything in her closet was practically getting thrown without care as she desperately tried to find anything. Even as her front door opens, she doesn’t glance to see who was coming in until she hears Balo squeak as she tries to avoid yet another thrown object.

“Sorry! I just was wondering if I could maybe borrow a pair of shorts?” The blonde squeals and the redhead pauses her frantic search for something appropriate to wear. Was Balo really trying to carry on like normal when her friend was in the hospital after trying to kill himself? Sure, people were saying it was an accident, but that didn’t mean it was.

Emmett had told everyone it was an accident after his attempt, a prank gone wrong, that she had to cut him down from the ceiling after. And at this point, she simply didn’t believe in accidents.

“Of course, they’re in the dresser. Let me know if there’s something worth wearing to the hospital in there while you’re at it.” She glances away from what she was doing to wave her friend toward where the dresser was. She would have to rearrange the room to the way she liked it eventually, but she hadn’t exactly been happy about much of anything since they arrived in New Zealand.

“Is going to see Leo a good idea?”

Balo’s question throws her off, as it was one she had been asking herself over and over again. She still didn’t know the answer herself, and she just turns away from her friend to go back through her closet, tossing yet more things in the direction of her bed as she fails to find something worth wearing. “This is my fault. I have to go.” She finally speaks as she tosses the last item of clothing in the closet onto the floor. “If I had done more....”

“It was an accident, remember? Just breathe, okay? You dress like you usually would. Maybe ask if I’m allowed to visit if you think he’s up to it?” She shakes her head, grabbing the shorts she came for from the drawer before she tosses a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top her way. Ches catches it, grateful for the answer so she could move onto the next method to tear herself apart with. “Just promise me you’ll be gentle with him. He’s going through a lot.”

“I’m not going to be mean. I figured he might like some comfy clothes and stuff. If someone else already thought of it, great, but...” She glances at her shoe rack as she talks. Maybe she should wear sneakers instead of heels for once, it’d make her look shorter and left her feeling more vulnerable, but perhaps it’d ease his fears of her just showing up. She doubted she was the first person he wanted to see; in fact, she was likely the very last, perhaps Balo was right, and this was a horrible idea.

But she needed to do this. How else was she going to live with the guilt?

“Well, if you need to talk later, come find me. I’ve gotta go, but I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with those words, Ches was alone with her thoughts again. She takes a deep breath as she walks over to her dresser to set the clothes she was going to wear down. Stepping over multiple piles of discarded clothes carefully as she realizes just how much money she’d just carelessly thrown to the floor as if it didn’t matter. Perhaps, in the long run, it didn’t. Still, she kneels down and starts to sort through the discarded clothes on the floor, slowly beginning to put everything back onto hangers. How was she supposed to make intentions clear from the moment he saw her?

Maybe the gifts would help, but she was just going to have to accept that whatever she did, Leo was likely to be hostile. Emmett was after his attempt, and he liked her. Ches was entirely unwelcome, and she knew that, but she supposed that was well deserved. If the roles were reversed, she would have made Leo’s visit a living hell for daring to breathe near her after a failed attempt. He had every right to do the same to her now. She carefully puts the last dress back where it belongs, going through the motions of getting dressed and making herself presentable, throwing her hair up in a ponytail, grabbing her bag, and just leaving the dorms.

She would have to go to the store and try to find things Leo would be allowed to have. She was already starting a shopping list of things in her head, things he’d need, things he’d like.

-------------------

Could she trust Leo with colored pencils, or was she going to have to stick with crayons? As Ches looks over the shelf of Crayola products, she ponders it for a few moments before she grabs both the washable crayons and the twistable colored pencils, glancing around before she tosses the bath crayons in too. She always got her worst thoughts in the shower. Maybe giving him a creative outlet he could take with him would be beneficial. On second thought, she tosses a box in for herself too. Her roommate was simply going to have to fucking deal with it.

The notebook had to have no wires, nothing he could pull off of it and cause harm. Any bags needed to be paper so he’d be allowed to have them. The slippers had to be sturdy yet stringless. She’d broken into his room in an attempt to figure out sizes, so she was hoping she was doing well on the clothing. She didn’t want to bring anything of his, not only because it’d require her to be honest that she had broken into his bedroom, but because she already knew how easily things got lost. The last thing she needed was to grab something that mattered and something happening to it. That was a problem she had no intention of being blamed for.

What else could be needed? Pre-paid call cards just in case what she’d read was wrong, and he wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone. If he did, she supposed it never hurt to have prepaid international calling cards either way.

He liked pen and ink, not paint, right?

For a moment, she tries to remember the art of his she had seen, none of it had been paintings, but maybe that was just simply because he couldn’t carry it around. She could ask, offer to make a second trip. She tosses comfy clothes into the cart as she goes, trying to find the most comfortable stringless things she could find, socks and underwear, because people probably weren’t thinking of it when they grabbed stuff. Toothbrush, he definitely needed a toothbrush. And inpatient units were usually cold, so a massive plush blanket probably help. He probably would be allowed to have zippers. Shit, what was his jeans size? Maybe Elizabeth would know, although was it a good idea to bother her at work with how busy she was. She glances at the racks for a minute, considering it for a moment.

Stuffed animals were usually taken in her experience, but if she could prove he wouldn’t hurt himself with it, maybe getting him something he was allowed to punch would be nice. After all, he did seem to enjoy his fights. Was Winnie the Pooh punchable? Balo was onto something when she said Leo looked like Christopher Robin. And he was a baby toy, so if Leo got him apart and found a way to hurt himself with it, it would be a feat. Still, she considers it a moment longer and puts an elephant in the cart instead.

She could always come back for it later if he’d appreciate the joke. What else would he like? Would the ward he was on allow her to drop by and grab him fast food? She probably could find a McDonalds’.

She takes a deep breath, already trying to find the number to find out. Hopefully, they’d allow outside food and drink. After all, what made someone’s day brighter than cheap junk food?

-------------------

[To Momma Everett 😍😍:] I’m dropping by to see Leo, so I’m gonna put my phone on vibrate to avoid him ripping my head off, but I love you so so so so so much, and please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’ve got everything handled here, I promise. I’m going to tell the front desk I’m your daughter, so that should get me in long enough to drop him off clothes and stuff. Hopefully, he won’t correct them? 🤞

Ches puts her phone into her purse after she’s done, tossing the bag over her shoulder before she goes around to the trunk of her rental to grab the stuff. It felt like it wasn’t enough, but it wasn’t as if she could bring him nearly as much as she wanted to, just essentials and a few small things in hopes of making him smile. She goes to the hospital’s front desk, explaining why she was here and that she had no idea where she was supposed to be going. As they led her in the direction of where he was, she tries to take deep breaths. Leo was going to kill her for this, wasn’t he? Maybe she should have dropped by to steal a kiss from Elliot before she left before he literally ripped her skull from her body.

Of course, nothing could have prepared her for what was to come after she got on the unit. She hands over the stuff to the nurse’s station for them to check over, insisting it’d be better if she waited to go in to see him until she had it back, and for a brief moment, she sees Leo, and everything comes crashing down. Where had his arm gone? Why hadn’t anyone told her?

“Your brother didn’t tell you.” The nurse guesses, and she glances over to the man and the art supplies she’d brought. Was it a dick move? Perhaps, but she wasn’t going to let anyone even dare suggest he couldn’t do art. It was only a matter of adjusting how he approached it, and suddenly she didn’t care if she had to import a physical therapist willing to try to help him. If anyone tried to tell Leo he wasn’t doing something, they would have to fight her.

“No, but that’s okay. He can still whomp me for bringing him children’s bath crayons after he gets home. He’ll be fine.”

If the nurse says anything else, she doesn’t listen. She just quietly waits for him to sticker the stuff and hand it back to her before she enters to see Leo, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she hopes that for once, maybe she wouldn’t say the wrong thing to him.

#suicide tw #suicide attempt tw #murder tw #hanging tw #amputation tw #oscar the grouch ( leo )#a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you ( self paras )#all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )

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anxiety-trademark · 4 years ago

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The week in review:

Raw 10/12 NXT 10/14 NXT UK 10/15 Smackdown 10/16

Raw:

Love that Dana and Mandy now have a theme, but drop the “Mandy” intro.

So they’re saying Miz is the reason these 2 were traded over before the draft?

Unfair nitpick: Mandy deserves to wear all the Gucci she wants, but I’m a little irritated because that’s Charlotte’s thing. I’m an idiot, I know.

I appreciate that wwe is taking this new team serious enough to give them a platform to work out any pre-teaming kinks.

Mandy doing real decent mic work. Especially compared to Lana and Dana. Good for her.

Dana needs to work on her speed.

I like the way Mandy went into that armdrag by hitting the ropes first. Point.

*Dana pins Lana*; *Mandy climbs halfway through the ropes like she might interrupt* ???

Mandy can be a decent face, why not. She’s a little bland rn but it’s a work in progress.

Like the knee strike by Mandy into the senton by Dana, especially off Mandy’s shoulders. Fine finisher.

Lol Nattie mad Lana lost them the match again. Ma’am tbf you get taken out by a punch and then crumple up into a ball far too often.

“Are you really that stupid” in kf I kinda get splitting them up, but in a meta sense, Nattie was the perfect partner for Lana.

Zelina: “Alexa Quinn seems to have a little bit of an identity crisis going on [...] she’s a joke to me,” Why do you care about Alexa Bliss? Cuz she’s cute and psychotic and makes me fear for my life, as she should for you too.

“Twisted union” omg they did dual Sister Abigails. See Zelina you should’ve just sat there and ate your food.

Zelina ran her mouth about Alexa, so Fiend accompanied Alexa in an ambush and they took out Zelina and her client together. This is precious, I love this story. Love that Fiend will do Alexa’s bidding just the same. Points.

Fitting to make Nia and Shayna the 2 hated ones in the battle royal. Still love their dynamic.

Sexy Muscles Friends rekt by Nia. Shame.

Nia is so fucking funny. Sees all of the women looking at her with fire in their eyes, and she’s like, “just breathe” before they stampede on over.

Lmfao Nia eliminated in part by Shayna. I can’t stop laughing.

WELP RIP LANA. I know who’s winning this one now.

Not an ounce of me cares about Drew and Randy brawling.

Wise of Lacey to use Nikki’s tornado ddt attempt to set her over the rope. She gets a point.

Good for Bianca getting the elimination over Shayna. Deep history there.

Love seeing Riott Squad evade each other in the ring. This spot was totally planned, but it’s still great.

Lana won by eliminating Nattie lmfao. I hate that she won cuz wow that’s an awful challenger for Asuka, but that’s hilarious karma.

Again I don’t fucking care about Drew or Randy, bye.

Highlight: Alexa & Fiend wrecking Zelina & Andrade

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NXT:

I mean Ember should definitely be in nxt, that’s where she’ll shine. She was spinning her wheels as a mere spot monkey on the MR. If she learns how to do promos, maybe she can try up on the MR again in the future.

*The Garganos plan to overcome all odds* No.

Rhea may not own the place but she owns the division. Io may be champion but Rhea is the obvious standout. Sorry bout it.

I liked that. Challenge is made in the pc by Raquel, Rhea overhears it, and they decide to fight then and there before being held back by officials. I approve of this segment. Points.

The disrespect shown to Shotzi’s helmet. Whew what a bitch lol.

Love the block to Candice’s neckbreaker, hate how long it took Shotzi to kick Candice. Full second wasted.

Ugly suicide dive. Didn’t feel impactful whatsoever.

lol kicked out at one. Candice said fuck your suicide dive. Fair.

Candice and her sorry ass attempt at her discount Natural Selection EVERY SINGLE MATCH SHE FIGHTS IN infuriates me. Negative 3 points.

Candice’s entire demeanor isn’t buyable. Her and her slow, methodical bs style. She’d be eaten alive on the MR.

Good counter by Candice. There are high risk moves that Shotzi needs to not do on random tv matches.

Haha Shotzi kicked out of the backstabber and springboard moonsault. Good.

That moonsault is absolutely not textbook. Io’s is textbook. Lacey’s is textbook. Charlotte’s is textbook. All of them can do the backflip part perfectly aligned and straight. Candice’s is ugly as sin in comparison, only difference is hers is a springboard.

*sigh* okay so if you want to built a repertoire between Indi and Candice, having Indi give her brass knuckles to help her win the match is great. But ffs Candice, after you pop Shotzi on the apron, fucking THROW THEM DOWN ON THE GROUND and then go for the cover. How awkward, watching her hold her arm behind her back for 2 friggin minutes before giving them back to Indi. Mk.

So Toni’s entire repackage is literally JUST new music and calling herself a heel?

GREAT neckbreaker by Aliyah.

Sure whatever. Anyway.

Highlight: Raquel & Rhea pc segment

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NXT UK:

I don’t know what’s worse; watching a long match of nothing but wrist locks and rest holds, or watching the competitors become exhausted from doing nothing but wrist locks and rest holds.

This is wrestling with no ropes, no turnbuckles, and no running allowed.

I remember once in 2019, people said Piper Niven is what wwe wants Nia Jax to be, but 10x better. You know what Nia Jax does well? Comedy. She understands how to be an entertainer. She understands how to perform in the ring without busting out that sweet workrate. Nia Jax found her niche, and that’s why she has a title rn. Piper Niven has not. In the spirit of fairness as well, the pandemic has not treated a lot of these women kindly, and it’s apparent to me that Piper has supremely suffered from it.

This makes me want to go watch Sasha vs Nia 2019. That’s how you make an intriguing match utilizing the difference in size between competitors.

Lol so Piper is in the corner, Isla hops up onto the turnbuckle in the opposite side of the ring, Piper slowly walks over and stops a mere 2 feet from where Isla is crouching up top, and then just stands there until Isla hits a meteora. Lmao. This should’ve been 3 mins with zero wrist locks. Anyway.

Highlight: the ending sequence by Piper was fine

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Smackdown:

Great video hyping up Bianca. It’s cool to see how highly wwe rates her. Hopefully they take their time with her, because there’s still some things she needs to work on in the ring, but she has the full package imo. Just needs more time to cook.

It’s interesting how it worked out that Sasha became the queen of Hell in a Cell.

Bayley’s such an asshole, I love her so much.

“...which I did ALL BY MYSELF by the way,” lmfao PLEASE. That shit would have been gone at Wrestlemania had it not been for Sasha.

To be fucking fair, it’s buyable for Bayley to be overly paranoid and believe Sasha turning on her was inevitable, considering Sasha HAS been eyeing that title since 2019. She still stayed loyal though, Bayley. Could’ve let some nobody win it off you and then take it from them herself... but she didn’t.

The execution isn’t the best, but the points that Sasha is bringing to the table are valid. Problem is they went over 2016, 2017... and skipped to the tag titles in 2019. Y’all had ISSUES in 2018 lmao but it’s fine, we’ll pretend it never happened. Probably for the best. 6 month build that amounted to nothing other than a brilliant one liner of, “YOU AIN’T SHIT SASHA”

Lmao Bayley refusing to sign it. Bahahaha. Sasha should be calling her a chicken shit lesbireal. Coward isn’t strong enough.

Highlight: Bayley being a delusional asshole

---

*Raw shined the brightest this week thanks to Alexa and the battle royal.

#wwe #issa review #feel free to ignore these #cuz who tf cares lesbihonest #today's props goes to:#alexa bliss

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pip-liveblogs · 5 years ago

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Liveblog Introductions!

Hi everyone! Call me Pip. I am Head Administrator for @deearly-official and the creator for @twiniverse! Since Steven Universe is now over, I have to look for new things to be interested in (though make no mistake, I will never be over Steven Universe) and in that pursuit I decided to do a liveblog of a show I never actually watched!

Avatar is a show that always looked interesting from afar but I never let myself get sucked into. Since I’m extremely adverse to trying new things, I thought I should first try a show that I know at least occasionally interests me. So Avatar is it. I’ll be starting with The Last Airbender, but there’s always the possibility I might also do Legend of Korra if I get that far in this process.

The Team

This blog will be mostly run by me, Pip (27M). However, since I don’t want to be spoiled more than I already am (see below) I will be having my sister, Kiwi (27F), be my ask screener. She watched the entire series and will be able to determine which asks are safe for me to see and which aren’t. The method that we’re going to use will be me not ever going into the askbox, and she will send acceptable asks to drafts. Hopefully that works!

Btw I cuss a lot.

I’m also not going to do any research into the show, which means no looking at the Avatar tag on Tumblr, not going to the fandom wiki, and not spending hours on TV Tropes, which will outright kill me. I want this to be as blind as possible, given I already have some prior knowledge.

Prior Knowledge

For complete transparency, I know some stuff about Avatar. How could I not? That’s almost impossible as someone who grew up on the internet and watching cartoons in the 2000′s. And still watches cartoons for like 95% of his tv experience. So here’s what I know about ATLA (and LoK where applicable.) For anything that is incorrect, please do not correct me, because that means I get to be surprised!

Aang is the Avatar and the Last Airbender, which are different things, who managed to survive the Fire Nation destroying the Air Nomad Tribe by ... being frozen somehow. For 100 years I think.

Air Benders were fun people

Aang was told he was the Avatar early and mastered all the bending in like a year like some kind of fucking boss

Aang bows properly to all the different kinds of benders, because he’s respectful as shit

Sokka and Katara are sibling water benders. Katara is team mom

Sokka dates the moon

Sokka’s name is pronounced in a way that has annoyed me for over a decade

“That’s rough, buddy.”

Water Benders seem really stoked about tradition

Toph is an Earth bender who is blind and sassy as fuck. Her hat is not a hat and that bothers me

Toph, in addition to being sassy as fuck, is also a huge fucking troll.

“The Boulder is no longer conflicted about fighting a young blind girl.” (The Boulder is my favourite character)

Earth Benders have crazy wrestling with Earth Bending and shenanigans, which is awesome

Zuko is a dick, and a Fire Bender, and then he stops being a dick. Possibly because his father and aunt are bigger dicks.

Zuko’s Uncle is fucking Mako and that’s rad as shit. (RIP Mako)

Uncle Iroh is also apparently the chillest dude in the history of ever, which is contradictory to being a Fire Bender

Fire Benders do not like fun? They like power and war for some reason.

There’s a giant flying buffalo named... Appa?

I feel like there’s also some kind of little big eared monkey creature.

Aang and Katara get married and have a bunch of kids who are really awesome at Airbending and it frustrates Korra.

There’s war and shit.

Aang grows hair and so does Zuko and Aang looks weird with hair but Zuko looks weird without hair.

Someone fucking blood bends at some point I think? I honestly don’t know if that was a fan thing or not. I feel like Toph metal bends and is the only one who can do it and that the argument might be “I bend metal and there’s iron in your blood” or something. That’s brutal, Nathan Explosion would write a kick ass song about that.

Something happened in Ba Sing Se

There’s a cabbage man with the worst luck in the universe, and Skyrim referenced it

Liveblog Format

So what I’m planning is doing a screenshot at the top of the post and then my thoughts on what I pictured below it. These might mostly be 1 screenshot per post, talking about everything that happened between that post and the one before it. Some may have multiple screenshots and multiple thoughts. Once I’m actually doing it people can let me know what they think about the format.

Every episode will be tagged as the name of the episode (if they have names? By number if not) and there will be an episode list with links to the /chrono. To my knowledge, /chrono links still do not work with some Mobile users and there’s nothing I can do about that.

I will also be tagging every liveblog post for this show with “atla” “atla liveblog” and “liveblog” if you want to screen/block any of those. I ALSO will tag non liveblog posts (like this one) with “pip post” so you can skip those, too!

There will probably be no schedule. I’ll probably just do episodes ... whenever I feel like it? I’ll try to give heads up of at least a half hour but no promises since I kind of just do what I want.

#atla #avatar #the last airbender #pip post

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clothingbrand1 · 4 years ago

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Guidelines for Anybody Who would like to Start out a Clothes Brand name

youtube

how to start a clothing brand

In this article are a few strategies to any person all set to or considering about launching their own individual clothes line.

Idea # 1. Don't Rush

What I signify by that is choose your time when it comes to the start of your respective line. There may be a great deal of levels of competition to choose from these days, establishing some social media marketing web pages using a t-shirt coming shortly is not really likely to cut it. Have you ever ever received excited about a Fb site with twelve likes and "a clean new apparel brand coming soon"in the about me part? Me neither.

Tip # two. If you cannot style and design, then shell out someone that can.

A lot of street don start-ups launch their model with just their title inside a script font, screen printed over a black t-shirt. Now I am all for supporting a manufacturer, however, you want to no less than put some thought and creativity into your apparel, usually individuals will see that you'll be much like the rest of the clothing brands that have started off and failed. If you can't draw or style and design, pay someone who can. You happen to be gonna want stable types if you prefer to stand out and it will not have to be expensive. An awesome web-site for style and design do the job is called Designcrowd. This website makes it possible for you to put up your style and design brief, set your spending plan, then wait around for designers from everywhere in the entire world to write-up their entry and also you can opt for the best one particular.

Tip # 3 Really don't rip-off other folks!

Just about every brand wishes to be as productive as Obey, Stussy and Hype, but blatantly copying their strategies, style and ripping off their designs will not be planning to get you there. In reality, It really is much more likely to have a negative result simply because these models are very well known, highly regarded as well as their hundreds of fans will know that your outfits models usually are not primary.

Suggestion # four Imagine outside the box.

You've got most likely heard this stating right before and although it is much easier stated then done, a great method to start off will be to do a good bit of exploration to collect your own personal ideas. Check with you which kind of clothes do I would like to create? What are my favorite brand names? What do I appreciate in life? When you finally know the solutions to these thoughts then you can start to study brand names, jot down tips, choose photographs and doodle to actually make an image with the style of street don things you would like your brand to be manufacturing. But make sure you never dismiss idea selection 3 whilst doing your investigation!

Idea # five Analysis your product or service.

Given that you have got a handful of layouts or concepts that you would love to see printed on the t-shirt, it can be time for you to look into what organization you may use to supply your blanks. There are many companies which make blank outfits ready for printing so this component might be a little bit overwhelming, but choosing your funds and who your focus on industry is will seriously assist to slender down the choice.

Gildan and Fruit on the loom are at the most affordable end of the scale however they are likely to possess a boxier in shape and you're not likely to seek out a lot of reputable apparel brand names printing on them.

Tultex and Anvil print a great high quality tee for a fair selling price if you prefer a high-quality come to feel but your spending plan will never extend to high-priced blanks.

And on the greater finish are American Attire and Alternate Attire. Although these might be highly-priced, the quality is phenomenal and so they also have a range of colours and items which will make your model stand out through the rest.

Tip # 6 Don't lower corners.

If you want being taken severely being a brand name, creation will be the 1 position you need to do not need to rush or slice corners. Firstly, choose a good printing business. It'll cost you a great deal extra time, cash and energy inside the prolonged run should you commit to print having a man in his bedroom who prints your layouts wonky and gets chocolate stains on the t-shirts when he's printing them.

You will find numerous respected firms by typing in "Screen printers" in Google, and don't forget to shop all over. Octomuffin and Woven Inc are rated highly during the United kingdom.

Secondly, think about your brand name graphic. Would you like to generally be thought of being a experienced brand? In the event you do, then your going to want custom neck labels, swing tags and some neat packaging. This doesn't ought to be high-priced, but little touches like that will possess a long lasting impact on the client.

Lastly, don't print a lot of. Any time you initially release a structure, you'll have no clue how it will provide, so it truly is most effective to purchase a lesser quantity at the beginning to test the h2o. Really don't fret about promoting out swiftly, it's going to make your manufacturer appear common when you do so you can constantly just re-order far more.

Idea # seven Website, and pics.

You don't require a massive finances for making a good looking and practical web-site, there are so many e-commerce platforms readily available now which supply fantastic looking web sites for any minimal regular monthly price tag. Significant cartel, retail store envy, volusion and shopify are only the tip of your iceberg in terms of these.

As soon as you have selected your world wide web platform, get a domain. Domains are so affordable in recent times apparel manufacturers haven't any justification to not buy one particular, and it helps make you glimpse much a lot more professional whenever you arrive to start.

Now you are ready to upload your items and pictures. It's important to help make absolutely sure you can get some specialist searching pictures taken of your respective items and not types which look like they may have been taken on a three mega pixel mobile phone digital camera. Your shots tend to be the only way your consumers can connect with your merchandise over the web, should the pics are little, blurry or don't demonstrate adequate of the items depth, you happen to be possible not to receive a sale.

Idea # eight And now we wait.

After you to start with launch, the joy might be a bit as well a lot and you happen to be likely being expecting huge things inside of within a shorter duration of time. Try to remain grounded, things take time, a lot of time, so don't get disheartened if you have not offered out inside your initial thirty day period and just retain likely. It truly is also an excellent idea to test and acquire feed-back from family and friends to view should the merchandise are literally nearly as good when you think they may be.

And that's it, I really hope your observed this article appealing and hopefully a little practical, as I discussed before I'm not an expert while in the avenue have on market, but individuals are just a few of the points I've learnt along just how.

References Clothing https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clothing

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theashofwkm · 5 years ago

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Dinner of Rats

Summary: In which Mark adds a little spice to his dinner, and finally takes the sleeping pills he keeps forgetting.

Prompt: Goretober, Poisoned

Warnings: poison, self-poisoning, suicide attempt, stabbing mention, the f word, I say shitty once, description of wounds/stabs, self-hate, mention of starving oneself, longing for death, overdose, death description, downward spiral, cheating mention, betrayal, this ones pretty dark guys.

Note: day three!!! this might also be counted as the suicide prompt, but idk yet. We’ll see if my motivation can keep up with this and if I have another idea for it.

———

Walking through the halls, body sore and colored with harsh red and circles of blooming purpled-blue, Mark wanders around lost in the home he’s lived in his entire life.

He’s in his home, walking though it’s halls. It’s impossible, he shouldn’t still be here, with legs and lungs in a body that still breathes. The stabs littering his torso should have killed him, he should be dead dozens of times over, but he’s not.

He’s not.

Still here, walking, breathing, thinking, against his will. He’d made a choice, committed to it nearly forty times and it didn’t stick. Just left him with missing time and a body that was a little more broken.

Foolishly, desperately, he thinks it’s the method that’s the problem.

It’s not and he knows that, but he needs to be wrong. He needs the voices to be wrong. He needs to be dead.

Sorrow lives his bones, a compliment to the grief of his blood and the guilt tanning his skin. There’s no reason anymore.

It’s hard and every breath feels like a punch in the gut, a rope looped around his neck. If he’s not in some agonizing emotional pain turned physical, he’s numb. Devoid of any feeling, of the sense of touch entirely. Living hurts and he doesn’t want to hurt anymore.

Not over her. She didn’t deserve to hold this power over him. Not now. Not after what she did.

He decides to try a new method. There’s bleach on the cupboard in the bathroom, rat poison in the kitchen. He’d taint his own drink, add the spice to his food and pray that that was enough.

It’s funny, before she left, he wasn’t a religious man, but he prays so often now. Daily, at least. Begging for the same thing like a broken record. Hands clasped and knees bruised, he asks and begs and pleads but he doesn’t receive.

Broken heart, bleeding lungs, self-hate littering his torso, he asks for the pain to stop. It gets worse.

It only ever gets worse.

Every time it does, he feels a modicum of relief along with the new wave of pain, believing it to be the last, the new worst. Then the ocean swells and another wave comes and he’s proven wrong. He hit rock bottom a long time ago, weeks ago. That was supposed to be the worst, that is what everyone said was the worst. ‘There’s nowhere to go but up,’ they’d said. Wrong.

He’s falling. Screaming to wind that swallows his voice and whips his flailing limbs. He can’t see the sky anymore, no sun or moon, just endless black.

Endless, pitch, encompassing black. The place he’s come to call The Nothing flashes through his mind. The starving ground of the whispers, the place where their sound echoes as they try to tear him apart. To lead him down a different path.

Whispering words that tug at his heart, that weaken his resolve, momentarily. Whispering justice, whispering revenge, whispering it’s not fair, is it?

No. None of this was fucking fair.

It would never be fair. What she did was vile and repulsive and downright cold. He’d loved her, had given her everything he could, everything that she asked and she took his willingness to please her, his devoted love and used it to stab him where it hurts. Figuratively. He did the actual stabbing himself.

Her betrayal had hurt more. He suspects that it always would.

And William. It boggles Mark’s mind, what he’d done. They’d been so much more then friends, had been brothers, and he’d gone after the one woman Mark had cared for, the one he’d marked as taken. He’d stolen his wife and cleared the joint bank account he shared with her and Mark hopes he suffers.

Because if the situation was reversed, if William had married the girl he loved, he doesn’t think he’d stoop so low as to steal her. It was a cheap, below the belt move and it wasn’t fair.

He scoffs a laugh as he veers into the bathroom. He thinks of the empty bank account. Cleared entirely by the girl he loved and the man he trusted.

In the end, now, he doesn’t much care for the missing money. It’s just another shitty thing, another mountain he doesn’t have the energy to climb. Just another thing that reduces the percentage of oxygen in his air to leave him gasping.

Thankfully, the bleach is labeled as so. He grabs it, tugging it towards him and wondering why the jug needs to be so big. It’s fine, though, he’d prepared for it. Sneaking the empty flask from his pocket, he messily pours the bleach in before capping it and shoving it back in.

Some of it had dropped onto the floor, splashed onto his robe. It stings against his hand. He welcomes the burn, he’s been through much worse lately. This is nothing.

Everything was nothing. He was searching for the thing that would be last. He wonders if death hurts, or just the process. Would he feel peace, once the deed was done? He hopes so, but he also doesn’t much care. If he wasn’t in pain, mentally ripping at his skin and tearing out his hair, then it was better.

Better was a low bar nowadays, but somehow it was still out of reach. Still too high for him to reach up and grasp. There’s an endless amount of betters, but somehow he keeps finding the limited worsts.

The flask doesn’t sit heavy in his pocket. The first few times he’d tried to off himself, the knife had been heavy, his grip slippery. It had been hard, the first few times. It’s become easy now, easier then breathing.

He wonders what that means, that an attempt to end his life is easier then drawing air into his lungs. Probably nothing good. But he’s not surprised. There’s nothing good left about him.

He’s everything but a walking corpse.

At the last moment, he grabs a bottle of pills. To help him sleep, pills he hasn’t been taking. Pills that could actually help him sleep, now that it crosses his mind. He pockets it next to the flask.

Leaving the bathroom, he makes his way downstairs. This is the hard part, the first hiccup he could experience. Chef doesn’t like people in the kitchen. That is where the poison lies.

Summoning Ben, he concocts some nonsense reason for him to disturb Chef and leave the kitchen free for a moment. There’s a moment of hesitation, where Ben eyes Mark with something close to pity, but it only lasts a moment before Ben goes off to do as requested.

Chef steps out of his kitchen in a huff of anger and Mark slips in through the other entrance. He slips in the cupboard, grabbing the bottle, and quickly retreating.

Skull and crossbones are plastered on the label, beside the no rodent sign. He smiles. Finally. It was in his grasp, again. Hopefully for the last time.

In his bedroom, he goes on his knees and prays for this to work until Ben fetches him for dinner. He grinds the sleeping pills into gravely dust. He prays some more.

Ben pulls out his chair in silence. Mark sits and he expects something about this time to feel different, but it doesn’t. It’s the same as any other meal he’s had over the past weeks.

Except this time he’s planning to actually eat it.

Pockets full of things he shouldn’t ingest, he has something of an appetite. This will be his first good meal in a while.

Ben places the plate before him, bowing and muttering an obedient “master.”

“Ben.” Mark stops him. This death will be slow, probably. He didn’t want any interruptions, anything that could get in the way. “Go to your rooms for the night and tell Chef to do the same.”

The butler turns, shocked. “But master—”

“Now.”

Nodding shakily, Ben follows orders. Chef yells in the kitchen, but follows them too. He’s alone now.

He takes out the flask first, uncapping it and dribbling the clear cleaning fluid into his wine. He dumps the entirety of the rat poison — somewhere between half and three quarters — onto his plate. He mixes it into his potatoes while sprinkling the dust of pills over everything like it’s salt and pepper. After a moment of thought, he adds a bit of powder to the wine.

He begins to eat.

Wine doesn’t taste all that different. There’s an unpleasant sting to it, and it burns like fire going down his throat, but he manages to sip at the glass the whole time. The pills are bitter. Harder to ignore and pretend it’s not there, but he tries. Self-made salt is sour, almost, unpleasant in the way medicine is. It’s not horrible, though.

He tells himself that this is the last time. The last attempt. After this, there will be no Mark Fischbach.

Vision blurring, limbs numbing, heart rate slowing, he’s happy. Relieved and happy and so, so close to peaceful. Slumped on the table, spilling out of his chair onto the floor, he no longer hurts.

He opens his eyes and screams.

———

Masterlist

Welp, that happened. Not a huge, huge fan of this one, but there are some bits I really like, so maybe it evens out.

TAGGING: @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @withjust-a-bite @statictay @muraae @harmonyofstars @cosmic-frapuccino @jmweezy (tags are open)

#theashwrites #my writing #theashangst #wkm fic #wkm angst #goretober #goretober 2019 #wkm mark #wkm butler #wkm chef #tw suicide attempt #tw suicide #tw stabbing #tw poison #tw overdose #poison

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