#tw: attempted suicide

[tradgedyinwaves]

part two (final) of this

Tw: coma, attempted suicide, successful suicide, death

The first few moments after you were hit were a blur to Kate. She heard the crunch and your scream, her own voice screaming into the mic of her phone as she called out to you.

Quickly, her rational brain took over and she ended the call with you, quickly calling emergency services. 

It took them 10 minutes to arrive, 25 to get you out, and 10 to the hospital. You were placed into a medically induced coma so that the swelling in your brain could go down and give your body a chance to possibly heal. 

Kate’s next call was to John.

“ ‘Ello?”  “St. John’s. Get your squad and get there” 

Click.

Kate kept her words to herself for the time being, bag already slung over her shoulder and out the door by the time her short conversation with John was over.

On the other end of the line, John sat still for all of 15 seconds as he processed Kate’s words. Shooting texts to each of the other members of the squad, he grabbed his coat and was out the door. 

The team arrived shortly after Kate, who was pacing in the waiting room. The doctor had already been out to speak with her and it hadn’t been good news. 

“What’s going on?” “What happened?” “Who got hurt?” “Are they dead?”

Kate stood and stared at the four men in front of her. She only knew from what you’d said that John and Soap were involved and she could see it from the way they stood close to each other. Stepping forward, she reached up and slapped John across the face before doing the same to Soap, tears staining her cheeks. The way the other two men stared, they had no clue about John’s infidelity.

“If she wakes up, I hope she kills you, John.” 

“If?”

“Who?” 

Kate turned to the other men and sighed, wiping her eyes as she whispered your name. “If, Kyle. Her brain is swelling too much. They’ve put her in a medically induced coma while they try to save her ability to walk.” Kate shot the Johns another glare, vowing to kill them for you if you couldn’t do it. 

Her announcement was followed with silence as the four men took seats in the waiting room. Kyle and Simon stayed close to Kate while Price and Soap sat off in the corner. They knew it was their fault. You wouldn’t have been on that road if you hadn’t seen them. 

Hours later and the doctor came back out. He approached Kate immediately, seeing as she was the first one there. The others gathered around to hear. 

“-lost a lot of blood, but we’re hoping that with the rest, her brain will stop swelling and her spine may heal enough that she could walk. But for now, she’s stable.” 

It had broken the team apart. Kyle and Simon were transferred to another team at their request. Soap was sent off to help other teams all the time in an effort to keep Price and him separated. Which only left the Captain. Except, the title was hollow. He didn’t have a team to lead anymore. 

Kate didn’t speak to him anymore either. So when he found out you’d woken up, it wasn’t for a couple weeks after the fact. When he did find the courage to visit you in the hospital, he was told you were no longer there. 

He called Kate, or Laswell as he was only allowed to refer to by her last name now, to ask where you were. 

“Not that you deserve to know, but she’s in the psych ward now. Tried to take her own life.”  “I-” “Don’t bother, Price. This is your fault.” 

A click on the phone and the call ended. He stared down at the device before throwing it and shattering it. He was weak and in that weakness, he’d ruined everything good he’d had and most importantly, your life. 

After a two month stint in the psych ward, you were cleared to go home. Which meant Kate set you up in a spare bedroom in her house. You’d been cleared, so she wasn’t worried that you’d try again. 

But boy, had she been wrong. A month later, you’d locked the door and broken the window, taking a piece of the glass and stabbing it into your legs that you could no longer feel. By the time they got the door open, it was too late. You’d lost too much blood, but you were finally free. 

When Price tried again a few months later, he was informed of your death. 

Seven months in a coma and you woke up to be told you were paralyzed from the waist down. Told you’d never walk on your own again. 

In another two, you would try to take your own life. 

Another three and you would succeed. 

In just a year, the world was left without your sunshine. 

John Price and John MacTavish never forgave themselves, living lives of solitude until the day they died.

Spoiled the hell out of you guys today. 2600 words that includes an alternate ending? Damn. lol

[the-badger-mole]

A Bend in the Stream

Zuko sat up in bed, gasping. He looked around wildly. It took a few moments for his confusion to wane, but soon he was able to recognize the familiar trappings of his room. The one above the tea shop that his uncle was making famous with his delicate blends. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk that would be in King Kuei's suites.

After registering his surroundings, Zuko sighed and let his body flop back onto his bed. His racing heart slowly returned to a steady beat. It had all been a dream after all. Being captured by the Dai Li; the moment with the waterbender in the caverns; Azula offering him a chance to redeem himself; the death of the Avatar... It was all just a bizarrely vivid dream. Just as Zuko was drifting back off to sleep, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities."

"Uncle," Zuko groaned, letting his head loll back onto his pillow.

"Don't take too long," Iroh said. "I have wonderful news! We're serving tea at King Kuei's court!"

"What?" Zuko sat upright and stared at Iroh in disbelief. That was how his dream had begun. Iroh, however, seemed to have taken his nephew's reaction as excitement.

"I got the news last night," he told Zuko. "It seems word of my mango jasmine blend has spread farther than I realized! I would have told you sooner, but you weren't here. Hurry, hurry! We still have to help with the morning rush before we go."

"Yes..." Zuko said distractedly. "That's right..."

"Breakfast is ready when you are." With that Iroh nearly skipped out of his nephew's room, humming a cheerful song under his breath.

Zuko got dressed and hurried through his meal (rice porridge with nuts and dried fruit was too common a breakfast for Zuko to read into it's similarities of his dream breakfast). Then he dressed and headed down to the tea shop. The feeling of deja vu was annoyingly sharp, but Zuko reasoned that his life had become so unusually predictable lately that his mind was still adjusting to the similarities of the day to day grind. So many of the customers were regulars at the tea house, it was no wonder he was learning all the orders already, despite his indifference.

At last, it was time to go serve tea to King Kuei. Something in Zuko's stomach turned. It was a sharp turning feeling in the pit of his stomach. King Kuei's palace was too familiar. He'd never been before, so how could he have dreamed it up in such detail? Zuko's hackles were up as he and his uncle were led to the room where they were to be received. It was just like his dream. Why were they being kept waiting for so long? Eventually, the wait began to grate on Zuko, and he paced the floor nervously.

"Calm down, Nephew," Iroh chided. He poured himself a cup of tea, completely unbothered.

"What's taking so long?" Zuko growled in frustration.

"Perhaps King Kuei overslept," Iroh said, smiling slightly at his nephew's discomfiture.

"Something's not right," Zuko said. Then he froze. It was just like his dream. Just like his dream. He looked at his uncle with wide, frightened eyes.

"What's the matter?" Iroh asked, setting his tea cup down.

"I think-" was all Zuko was able to get out before the door opened, and the next part of Zuko's dream came rushing back to him. Azula walked in, flanked by Dai Li agents, and smirking at Iroh and Zuko smuggly.

"It's tea time!" she said with a saccharine tone.

"No way!" Zuko gasped.

"Have you met the Dai Li?" Azula nodded to the men immediately at her sides. "They're earthbenders, but they have a killer instinct that's so firebender. I just love it." Zuko could only gape at his sister. He knew what she had been about to say. How could he know that? This moment felt less real than the dream had. Iroh stood up beside his nephew, and Zuko knew the words Iroh was about to say to his niece before they were ever spoken out loud.

"Did I ever tell you why they call me the Dragon of the West?"

Zuko was ready to grab Iroh's arm and run the minute Iroh created the hole in the wall. When Iroh used lightning to blast a hole in the second wall, Zuko froze again. Iroh jumped into the bushes below and turned back to his nephew.

"You'll be fine!" he assured Zuko. "Jump!" How could Zuko explain to his uncle why he couldn't? He hardly understood himself. He was just frozen into place. Moments later, Azula and the Dai Li caught up with him and Zuko turned to face his sister.

"You're so dramatic," she taunted him. "What? Are you going to challenge me to an Agni Kai?"

"You're not interested," Zuko murmured. Azula blinked in surprise, caught off guard for the barest moment. It wasn't enough, though, and her Dai Li guards sprang into action before Zuko could do much. He was quickly bound in stone cuffs, and throne into the catacombs beneath the city. And just like so many things that had happened that day, he was unsurprised to find himself trapped with the Avatar's waterbender (Katara. He'd known her name for some time, but Azula herself couldn't have tortured him into admitting it).

His mind was reeling as his memory of his dream and the reality of the situation crashed together, and he had the unpleasant sensation of remembering everything Katara had said before she'd spoken it. Particularly painful was Zuko anticipating her confession about how he was the face that for months she'd been picturing when she pictured the enemy. When she offered to heal his scar, Zuko was ready to break the walls down himself. Still, he submitted to her touch on his face. He wouldn't have been able to explain why for anything. Fortunately, he was spared thinking too hard about it when the Avatar arrived.

Azula caught up to them not long after. When Azula made her offer this time, Zuko froze, completely unable to thinks about anything beyond his own confusion. It was his dream. It was exactly his dream. Right down to the Avatar being struck down, and his uncle being taken prisoner so Katara could escape with the Avatar's....corpse? Zuko watched her go uncertainly. She met his confused gaze with a flinty one of her own. A shiver went down Zuko's spine.

Later that night, Azula congratulated Zuko on his choice. He barely registered any of it. Had he done all of this, he wondered. Had he literally dreamed his success into reality? He settled down into the bed of the room Azula had given him. Where King Kuei was, Zuko couldn't begin to hazard a guess, but for the time being, Azula had claimed his palace as her own, and given her brother the second best room available. Despite this, sleep came reluctantly for Zuko, but still, it came.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko sat up in bed, gasping. He looked around wildly. It took a few moments for his confusion to wane, but soon he was able to recognize the familiar trappings of his room. The one above the tea shop that his uncle was making famous with his delicate blends. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk he remembered falling asleep under in King Kuei's suites.

A few moments later, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities."

This time, all Zuko could do was stare. Iroh was as excited as ever as he admonished his nephew to get out of bed and get ready for work. Zuko was not at all surprised when Iroh announced that he had been invited to King Kuei's palace to serve tea.

"It's a trap," Zuko warned him. "We shouldn't go."

"Don't be silly, Nephew!" Iroh chortled. "Why would Kuei want to trap us?" Zuko wasn't sure how to handle that question without sounding insane. He went along with it. Perhaps he was still dreaming, Zuko reasoned. He had been asleep the entire time, and his brain wasn't allowing him to wake properly. He went through his day for the third time. He remembered most of the orders he'd taken the last couple of times, so he was able to devote most of his brain space to figuring out what was happening and how to stop it.

This time, he said little as he paced the floor in King Kue's palace, but he still hesitated just long enough that he was once again caught by Azula's Dai Li agents. And once more, he landed at Katara's feet. As before, he submitted to her tirade silently. This time, he was caught by the pain in he voice when she told him how his family had taken her mother from her. He wondered about her story. How long ago had it happened? How had it happened? How young had she been?

Katara wasn't much younger than he was, Zuko guessed. Maybe a year or two. He wasn't certain. She was still young enough to need her mother. It wasn't fair that she'd lost her mother so young. He said that, too, after commiserating with her over the loss of his mother. What would Ursa say? What would she think of her son sharing this with a Water Tribe girl?

When her hand came up to his face, Zuko had already accepted that she wouldn't have time to try her healing water on him. Sure enough, as her thumb grazed his lip, the wall on the far side of the cavern burst open, and the Avatar came in, followed closely by Iroh. Katara threw her arms around the younger boy, relieved to be rescued, and completely forgetting her offer to heal Zuko.

Zuko hesitated longer on his sister's offer. Little else changed, after all, how could he not help his sister? How could he not take his chance to go home? Still, Azula's suspicious gaze lingered on Zuko a bit longer afterwards. Zuko felt more eyes on him in general for the rest of the day. By the time he turned in that night, he was certain his sister had eyes on him even as he climbed into bed, sore, tired and confused.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko opened his eyes, somehow unsurprised to find himself in the familiar trappings of his room above the tea shop. There was no smell of floral garden air from the windows. His blanket was scratchy and stiff wool, and not the down stuffed silk he had fallen asleep under in King Kuei's suites.

A few moments later, his door swung open and Iroh came in with a wide grin.

"Good morning, nephew!" he said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities." Zuko sat quietly as Iroh told him the good news. That they had been invited to serve tea to the King of Ba Sing Se. Iroh's smile dimmed a bit when he realized that Zuko wasn't reacting.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He sat down on the edge of Zuko's bed and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?"

"...no," Zuko said after a moment. "I just...didn't sleep well." That may have been true. Zuko didn't remember falling asleep. Didn't remember dreaming. It seemed to him that he had just closed his eyes for a moment and then the world had reset itself. What was happening?

"Alright," Iroh said, unconvinced. "Breakfast is ready when you are." He got up and started to go. He paused at the door and stared at his nephew. "Or you can stay home, if you'd prefer." Zuko shook his head.

"I'm alright. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Zuko had heard all of his customers' orders so many times by this point, he didn't even need to pay attention to them. He did the cursory work, pretending to jot their tea preferences down on his note pad before he turned them into his uncle in the kitchen. Maybe that's why he was able to pay more attention. Maybe that's why he saw Katara this time. Their eyes met across the crowded tea room, Katara's eyes wide in horror. Zuko's eyes wide in shock. Had she always seen him that day? No wonder there was more anger than surprise when hours later, the Dai Li threw him into the catacombs before her. This time was no different.

She launched into her tirade, hurling her accusations, her pent up anger, her grief at him. This time, Zuko understood a bit better. She wasn't angry at him- or rather, she was, but it was a deeper wound she was purging. So when she spoke of her mother, Zuko said,

"That's something we have in common." And then... "What was her name?"

Katara was thrown completely for a loop, Zuko could see it in her eyes. She turned to him, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stared at him quietly for so long, Zuko didn't think she would answer him. But then...

"Kya," she whispered. "H-her name was Kya." Zuko shut his eyes and repeated the name to himself. Kya sounded like a poem. What kind of person was she? Was her daughter anything like her? Zuko thought she probably was, and if Katara was like her, then Kya must have been a very fierce...pain in the neck. The thought made him smile a bit.

"Are you laughing?" Katara demanded. Venomous rage bled back into her voice. Zuko met her gaze head on.

"No," he said. "I was just wondering if she was anything like you." That froze Katara once again, and this time Zuko did have to bite back a chuckle. There was a long, awkward pause. Then,

"My...my grandmother says I am," Katara said quietly. Zuko wasn't entirely sure she was speaking to him directly, or just didn't care if he heard her. "She says that I'm just like my mother when she was my age." She went silent again, casting furtive glances at Zuko. "What was your mother's name?"

"Ursa," Zuko sighed.

"Are you like her?" Katara asked. Zuko considered that for a moment. Then he shrugged.

"I hope I am," he said.

They didn't get around to Katara touching his face or her offer to heal his scar. They were still on opposite sides of the cave when Iroh and the Avatar burst in. This time, Zuko hesitated a beat too long, and he was crushed by a rock from one of the Dai Li agents.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko shot up in bed, choking down a strangled scream. He could still remember the agonizing pain radiating from his caved in chest, and the feeling of blood filling his lungs as he gurgled out his last breath. He ran his hands over himself looking for any marks, or bruises. Any evidence at all from what had happened....last night? Tonight? What was going on? A hiccupping sob escaped Zuko just as the door opened.

"Good morning, nephew!" Iroh said cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, full of endless possibilities." Iroh froze abruptly when he saw the look on Zuko's face. "What's wrong?"

Zuko didn't say anything. He just leapt out of bed and threw himself on Iroh and wept like child in his uncle's arms. Iroh let him, alternating between comforting Zuko and trying to understand what had him in such a state. It took nearly ten minutes before Iroh managed to calm Zuko. Then he bundled Zuko up in his scratchy blanket and guided him to the little kitchen table, the one that wobbled and was hardly big enough for the both of them. Minutes later, he pressed a fresh cup of soothing tea into Zuko's hands and squeezed into the other side of the table.

"What happened?" he asked. Zuko choked down an errant sob and shrugged helplessly.

"You won't believe me," he muttered.

"Try me," Iroh implored. He reached out across the table and squeezed Zuko's free hand. "Please, Zuko. Did something happen last night? Did you get into some trouble? Did you break up with your lady friend?" At that Zuko laughed. If only if it were something that small.

"No," he said. "Jin and I haven't spoken in..." Zuko frowned. How long ago had it been? How many times had he relived this day? Did it count towards how long it'd been since he'd seen Jin?

"Then, what is it?" Iroh looked ready to cry himself. That startled Zuko. And it loosened his tongue. He told Iroh everything. How he'd live this day already, several times. How the invitation to King Kuei's palace was a trap. That Azula was not only in the city, but in the middle of a coup. He told Iroh about being trapped in the cavern with Katara (despite the situation, Iroh managed to look arch at Zuko using the waterbender's name). Zuko hid his shame, but he told Iroh how Azula won at the end of the day. Then he told Iroh how the last time, he'd died. Iroh was stricken at that. He scanned Zuko for injuries that they both knew weren't there.

"No wonder you were upset," Iroh said.

"You believe me?" Zuko stared at his uncle in shock.

"I have little reason to doubt," Iroh shrugged. "After all, I haven't mentioned tea at King Kuei's yet. I've seen far too much in my day to dismiss your claim out of hand."

"What do I do, Uncle?" Zuko pleaded. Iroh shook his head sadly.

"I don't know myself," he admitted. "This has the marks of some spirit's intervention."

"So, I just have to keep living today over and over until whatever spirit is doing this decides they're done?" Iroh pursed his lips and blew out a long slow breath.

"It's rare for any spirit powerful enough to do this to act arbitrarily," he said. "There must be something you need to do. Some lesson you need to learn. Have you done anything different?"

"Not really," Zuko said. The only major changes had been his conversation with Katara and his hesitation in that final battle.

"Maybe you should try."

So, Zuko did just that. Neither he nor Iroh ended up going to the palace, or to work that day. They stayed inside. Katara never saw Zuko at the tea house. Zuko never ended up in the cavern. Beyond that, Zuko didn't know what difference it had made. He didn't know that without Iroh there to distract his niece, Katara and Aang both died in the cavern. He didn't know that Sokka and Toph had just barely made it out of the city, or that Chief Hakoda driven more by grief than logic had ordered a failed attack on the city that ended with half the Southern Tribe warriors dead or captured. It wasn't until the Dai Li agents arrived at their apartment that Zuko realized that Azula knew where he and Iroh lived. There was no need for her to keep him around now. The Avatar was undeniably dead. The stone cuffs made it impossible for Zuko and Iroh to defend themselves, and in a rare act of mercy, Azula killed them quickly.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko woke up with the memory of lightning scorching his internal organs, and the echoes of Iroh's agonized screams in his ears. He flung his blanket off and threw the door open, startling Iroh, who was just coming in to wake him. This time Zuko didn't hesitate to tell Iroh everything. This time instead of waiting around the apartment all day, they stole out of the city. They were miles away when the city and the Avatar fell. They didn't stop until night fall, and they made an impromptu camp. They sat around the fire quietly, picking at their meals.

"Do you think this will end the loop?" Zuko asked his uncle. Iroh pursed his lips and blew out a long, slow breath.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I hope it does. But maybe I'm not who you're supposed to save."

"It must be," Zuko insisted. "Who else?" Iroh shrugged.

"Who can say with the spirits? It's rare for any spirit powerful enough to do this to act arbitrarily, though." Zuko didn't agree, but he said nothing. Finally, Iroh turned in for the night. Zuko offered to keep watch, determined to stay awake until the sun rose the next day. He drank a whole pot of the strong morning tea they'd packed. Despite their desperate flight out of Ba Sing Se, Zuko wasn't the least bit tired. He was certain he'd be able to stay up.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko opened his eyes and let out a long, loud string of expletives when he found himself in the familiar trappings of his room above the tea shop. Iroh poked his head in, frowning in concern.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"No!" Zuko shouted. "Nothing is alright! I hate the spirits!"

Zuko didn't want to explain anything to his uncle this time. He disappeared into the city, picking fights with anyone who crossed him. Eventually he was caught by the Dai Li and taken to the underground lake prison. His last memory was of a flashing green light and someone trying to hypnotize him. The next few times he woke up, he tried breaking into the palace and catching Azula unawares. He lost three times, died once, reached a stalemate four times, and killed his sister twice.

Most often, he ended up back in the cavern with Katara. Once, she managed to use her magic water on his scar. It worked, sort of. The scar faded until it was just a pinkish blemish over his eye, but then Azula hit the Avatar with lightning just before Zuko took her out. The Avatar died because Katara didn't have the water to heal him with. She was kind enough not to blame Zuko, but the sound of her sobs chased him into the new day. He never let her try that again. The next few times, he found Katara earlier in the day. He managed to get her to listen to him most of the time. She was, he found, more inclined to trust than he expected. These days still ended up with Ba Sing Se's fall, but Katara usually managed to escape with her friends, sometimes with Zuko's help, sometimes on her own, but Zuko never took her up on her offer to join them. Something inside him still balked at the idea of helping the Avatar, though he'd long since given up on returning to his father. Being murdered by his gleeful sister in increasingly creative ways had dashed any real hope he had that his father wanted him home. He learned a lot about Katara on those days, when he managed to get her to hear him out before attacking.

Today, he was exhausted. He went to work his shift at the tea house, because he didn't know what else to do. He was rude and snappish with the customers all morning, barely stopping to listen to their orders, and even though he didn't get a single order wrong, the owner of the shop sent him away early. That was fine. Zuko didn't stop to answer his uncle's calls as he stormed out into the street, running into a smaller person. He reached out instinctively to steady them, ready to berate whoever it was, but he froze. Katara was in his arms, staring up at him in horror.

Of course...

This had happened before, and the last time, both he and Katara had been taken by the Dai Li to that underground prison lake. Now, Zuko let go of her and turned to run in the opposite direction before she even had a chance to react. He expected to feel water snaking around his ankles, an icicle in his back, to hear her screaming for the Dai Li behind him.

None of that happened. Instead, he ran into two more girls. Girls in Kyoshi Warrior makeup. Girls who he'd recognize anywhere, no matter how much paint was on their faces.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"Is that anyway to greet old friends?" Mai asked mockingly.

Zuko ended up in the cavern with Katara. He wasn't sure how she'd gotten caught, but he was there first this time. Whatever tirade she had been preparing to launch into stopped abruptly when she saw him hitting his head against the rock wall with alarming force.

"What are you doing?" she gasped. Zuko was too dizzy to be surprised when she pulled him away from the wall. He could feel something trickle down his face, and whatever it was had Katara staring at him in open concern.

"Let go!" Zuko tried to shrug her off. "I have to get out of here!"

"Zuko!" Katara pulled him away from his wall, and he was too dazed to stop her. She pulled water from...somewhere, Zuko wasn't sure. Maybe the walls. The cave was damp enough. Her hand glowed a soft blue, and the pain in his forehead faded, to his disappointment.

"What did you go and do that for?" Zuko demanded, rubbing his hand over his unbruised forehead.

"Why were you hitting you head against the wall?" Katara countered sharply. She folded her arms and glowered at Zuko.

"I was trying to kill myself, if you must know," he sneered at her. For all the times they'd met and all he had learned about Katara, this was a new day. They were not friends.

"What?" Katara looked stricken, and Zuko felt bad, despite himself.

"Forget it," he said, turning away from her. "It doesn't matter."

"Zuko, what's going on?" Katara ran around him so she could see his face. "Tell me what's happening! Why are we here?"

"Trust me, you couldn't have picked a question I want answered more," he scoffed. "I don't know why I'm here. I've been here too many times to count at this point, and I don't know why! I've tried not coming here, but that doesn't work either."

"What are you talking about?" Katara asked, staring at him as if he'd grown another head. Zuko almost laughed. Maybe he had. It would make as much sense as anything else.

"I'm cursed, Katara," he said a bit hysterically. "I'm cursed. I've lived this day so many times... I...I don't know what to do. I'm losing my mind, and I'm scared." Zuko crumpled to the floor and sobbed into his palms.

Katara didn't know what to do. He could feel her hovering over him, uncertain of what, if anything, to do for him. Finally, she sat beside him, and hesitantly wrapped her arm around him from the side. All pride had utterly fled Zuko. He threw himself into her embrace and sobbed on her shoulder. Katara stiffened, and for a moment Zuko thought she would throw him off of her, but kindness, or compassion, or whatever drove her overrode her hatred for him, and she held him stiffly while he cried.

Zuko composed himself as fast as he could, and pulled away from Katara. He'd left a large wet mark of sweat and tears and snot on her dress, but she was a good sport about it.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" she asked.

"You won't believe me," Zuko said. The words brought back a memory of a similar conversation with his uncle.

"Try me," Katara said, with a wry smirk.

"I already told you," Zuko said. "I'm reliving today and I don't know how to get out of this loop."

"What?" Katara stared at him as if his second head had sprouted wings and started earthbending.

"I told you wouldn't believe me." This time Zuko did chuckle. "I've been here in this cavern with you, so many time's I've lost count. Do you think I'm crazy?"

"I-I," Katara stammered. "Zuko, this isn't..."

"I can prove it," Zuko told her. "We've spoken before. You've told me things. Personal things."

"Excuse me?" Katara stared at him, aghast.

"You have," Zuko insisted. "How else do I know that you have magic healing water from the Spirit Oasis?"

"Y-you were there," Katara said. "You could've been spying." Zuko shook his head.

"Nope," he said. "That's not it. I also know that you lost your mother. We've talked about her nearly every time we've met." Rage flashed across Katara's face at that.

"How dare you-?"

"I'm just saying what you told me," Zuko said. "You told me her name was Kya. And you told me how your grandmother said you're just like her when she was your age." Katara gaped at him in shock.

"How did you know-"

"You told me," Zuko sighed. "Just like you told me that your favorite color is seafoam green, and you miss the dancing lights in the sky back home, and your brother Sokka once got two hooks stuck in his thumb. One time, you ate papaya even though you hate it because a fortuneteller told you to. I have no other way to know any of that except from you. I'm not lying. I'm stuck in some sort of time loop. I don't know how to get unstuck."

"Oh-" Katara sat beside him quietly for a long time, processing the new information. "And I just..told you all of that? Why?"

"I don't know," Zuko shrugged helplessly. "I asked, and if you were in a good mood, you'd tell me. I don't always see you, and when I do we don't always talk." More silence, though, Zuko could almost hear her brain working double time to process all of this.

"Do you know how it started?' she asked after a long while.

"No," Zuko shook his head. He had tried to recall if he'd crossed any priests, or accidentally touched some relic, or walked under a ladder, but he couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary until he woke up and the day repeated. He told Katara as much.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I am, too," he shook his head. "I'm the only one who knows it, but you're all stuck in this loop with me, it seems. I really am sorry."

"That's got to be so lonely," Katara said. Zuko let out another shuddering sob. He hadn't let himself admit it yet, but she was right. It was incredibly lonely. No matter how many times they'd spoken, Iroh didn't remember why his nephew sometimes woke up screaming. Katara wouldn't remember this conversation, or that she and Zuko had made a connection and had more in common than she realized. In a few hours, Zuko would wake up and they would be enemies again. Katara pulled him into another embrace, and Zuko clung to her like a life line. He didn't cry on her anymore, though.

"I'm so scared," he whispered. "I can't even die." Katara stiffened in his hold, but instead of pushing him away, she held him tighter.

"There's got to be a way out," she said. "There has to be." Zuko didn't bother telling her that he'd tried everything he could think of. He pulled away slightly, not quite ready to let go of her yet, and rested his forehead against hers.

"Maybe I'm not dying the right way," he said.

"Why do you think you have to die at all?" Katara asked. Zuko snorted.

"Wouldn't it make your life easier if I were dead?" he asked. "If I die and end this loop, you wouldn't have to worry about me coming after you, or betraying your trust, or...or..." Zuko clenched his teeth tightly. Katara unwound an arm from his mid section and cupped his jaw.

"Where's that stubborn mule-ox who chased us around the world?" she demanded. "Where's that fighting spirit that led you to do stupid things, like challenge me while I was surrounded by my element?"

"I think that bit of me died around the fortieth time I woke up this morning," Zuko laughed mirthlessly. "Katara, I can't do this anymore. I have to figure out a way to end this. Even if it means I die. I can't go on like this!" His grip tightened around her waist, and he felt the tears coming again.

Then his world came to a screeching halt.

Katara's lips were pressed against his. Every thought in Zuko's head flickered out and all he could focus on was how soft Katara's lips were.

She pulled away with a jerk. Already she was babbling an apology, an explanation that she didn't know how else to distract him, other words that were lost on Zuko. Then she stopped talking when he leaned in to kiss her again. It was an urgent, awkward kiss between two inexperienced and desperate teens, with too much teeth and too many hands uncertain of where touch was okay. They kissed until they were breathless. They kissed until the wall imploded. And when Iroh and Aang burst in and the dust settled, they were still clinging to each other in a way that left little doubt of what they'd been doing.

They sprang apart, but instead of rushing over to Aang as she'd done so many times before, Katara stood awkwardly beside Zuko. A bright red blush covered her face and neck, and she looked a bit ashamed of herself as she avoided her friend's devastated face, but she didn't leave Zuko's side. Her knuckles bushed against his reassuringly, but neither of them made to entwine their hands.

There was no time to discuss any of what had happened. Azula and the Dai Li agents had heard the commotion as they always did, and soon they found themselves in the middle of a battle. Zuko had long since given up on joining his sister's side. And maybe the kiss had emboldened him, but this time, he joined the fight against his sister without hesitating. That enraged her, but between him, his uncle and Katara, she and the Dai Li were on their back foot. Zuko tried to keep his sister's focus on him. This time he would see Katara and his uncle escape safely with the Avatar. But something went wrong, and Aang was struck by Azula's lightning.

Katara in her rage was a sight to behold. She caught Aang as he fell, and almost simultaneously called up a wave with all the water in the cavern and froze Azula and her guards. That hadn't happened before. Neither had Zuko and Iroh ever managed to actually escape the cavern with Katara and Aang.

Later that night on Appa's saddle, Zuko watched in awe as the spirit water literally brought the Avatar back from the dead. He was glad that Katara hadn't wasted it on something as frivolous as his scar. Especially not when she looked at him, almost weeping with relief when her friend's chest began to fall and rise again.

In the chaos, Zuko and Iroh's presence had gone unremarked by Katara's other companions, but now that Ba Sing Se was miles behind them, and the Southern Tribe Warriors' camp lay before them, Sokka and Toph finally stopped to question their new companions. Katara told them in no uncertain terms that they owed Zuko and Iroh both hers and Aang's lives, and that they were fine to travel with them as long as they liked. Iroh offered his services as a firebending master for the Avatar once he woke. Zuko was quiet and stuck by either Iroh's or Katara's side- the latter was noted by Sokka with more than a hint of suspicion, but Zuko didn't care. It wouldn't matter in a few hours.

When they landed for an hour to plan their next move, Zuko told Katara as much when he managed to capture a few moments alone with her. She squeezed his hand.

"It'll be okay," she said. Zuko thought she was going to kiss him again, but Sokka appeared, inserting himself between them, with a suspicious glower levied at Zuko. Katara scoffed and went to go check on Aang.

They arrived at Chameleon Bay not long after that, and Zuko and Iroh were welcomed, albeit coldly by Katara's father and his troop. Zuko wasn't sure what Katara said, but he and Iroh were given a room on the Fire Nation ship Chief Hakoda and his men had managed to take possession of. Zuko couldn't sleep, though.

He ended up on the deck of the ship as the moon was nearing its zenith. It was close to the time that the day would reset for him. Zuko had timed it before. He figured he had about twenty minutes before he blacked out and woke in his room at the tea shop. He dreaded it, but he also felt a bit melancholy about it. No one would remember what happened today. His new allies, as fragile as the relationship was, would not know what happened tonight. His uncle, sleeping safely (as safely as was possible, at least) would soon burst into his room, excited about the trap that had been set for him at King Kuei's palace. Katara wouldn't remember comforting him in the caverns. She wouldn't remember kissing him, and when he saw her next, they would be enemies again. He didn't dare hope for a repeat of this particular version of the day, either.

Light footsteps came up behind him, but Zuko didn't so much as flinch. The worst that could happen would be someone slitting his throat. He wasn't overly worried about it, though, and he wasn't all that surprised when Katara sat down beside him, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the stern.

"It's late," she said.

"Yeah," Zuko agreed.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you?" Zuko scoffed. He glanced at Katara out of the corner of his eye. She was still covered in gore from where she'd caried Aang out of the cavern. Her hair was stiff with dried sweat, and there were smudges of mud and blood on her face and hands. She was gorgeous, Zuko realized with horrified clarity. He looked away from her and cleared his throat. He turned his gaze out on the the water of the bay. The moonlight scattered across the surface of the water, and danced across the waves.

"It's getting close to the time when my day starts again," he told Katara quietly. He sagged against the railing of the ship and rested his forehead against the cool metal. He was exhausted. He was always exhausted when he reached this part of the day.

"What if you stay up?" Katara suggested. Zuko shook his head with a sigh.

"I've tried," he told her. "If I don't fall asleep, or get knocked out or die, I just sort of black out. I can't fight it." Katara gasped, but didn't say anything. She slipped her hand inside of his and held it tightly. It was a nice sensation to end on, Zuko thought. He didn't fight it when sleep came to claim him.

Sunlight on his face woke him. Zuko looked around in confusion. He was not in his room above the tea shop. Above him, he saw the lightening dawn sky instead of the ceiling he'd been expecting. There was no scratchy stiff wool blanket over him. There was something soft and warm, and much heavier than a blanket on him though. He looked down and found Katara asleep on his chest, her arm draped across him protectively.

She must have heard the change in Zuko's heartbeat. Katara began to stir. She sat up and looked around blearily. She was not a morning person, Zuko thought giddily. When her eyes finally landed on him, several things crossed her face; surprise, fear, then dawning realization.

"Did you do it?" she asked. "Did you break the loop?" Zuko nodded, swallowing hard.

"It looks like it," he said. He looked around himself in awe. It was a new day.

[nowimjustastranger]

Has STCMO!Ford ever had to help a Stanford stop their Stanley from committing suicide? I read a fanfic a few months back called Salt Water in my Veins by a_solitary_marshmallow on ao3 and I kept thinking about it a lot. It's where Stanley tries to drown himself in the ocean after getting kicked out and Stanford, having second thoughts, goes out looking for him, finds him and sees what he's doing, and runs into the ocean after him to pull him out before it's too late. Using a scenario like that as example, is there a dimension where Stanford tries to save his Stanley in the same or similar way but ultimately can't do it on his own and Ford has to intervene?

I couldn't help myself, lol. I tried out an alternative way of answering asks and I gotta say it was fun, so I'll probably start answering more asks like this when inspiration strikes me!

He wasn't going to make it.

Ford had stupidly tripped the moment his shoes hit sand and he'd fallen, wasting precious seconds scrambling back to his feet. He didn't have time to take off his coat or shoes so he didn't run the risk of drowning, the water weighing him down and making him slower as he charged into it.

It was so cold and Ford couldn't see Stan anymore, his brother swallowed by the black abyss. The ocean has never looked so terrifying before. Still, Ford pressed onward, wading deeper and deeper as he shredded his vocal cords calling for his brother over and over again. Only the lapping waves and his own labored breathing answered him.

He was submerged up to his stomach now and he was sobbing because he already knew it was too late-

A figure surged past him and Ford blinked dumbly because they were running on the water, clad in a simple black tank top and equally black slacks with glowing boots. The weirdest part was the biker helmet that the stranger wore, because surely that would hinder him as he... did whatever it was that he was doing.

Which was diving into the black surf, apparently.

The stranger disappeared much like Stan had, Ford's heart in his throat as he watched the churning water settle. He was shivering, but he refused to leave the water until he either had his brother back or the ocean took him too.

The stranger erupted from the water, boots lighting up as he gracefully hauled both him and the limp figure in his arms up and out of the inky depths. Ford choked on a sob as the stranger adjusted his grip on Stan to prop the unconscious -he's just unconscious, please let him be unconscious- teen on his hip before coming straight for Ford.

Ford's vocal cords produced an undignified noise that he will deny emitting until death as he was plucked from the water by his belt, thrown over the stranger's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And, in a blink, they were on the shore and the stranger was laying Stan down onto the sand, grabbing a utility belt from a pile of clothes that Ford hadn't noticed until just now.

Stan was so pale, so quiet, so still.

The stranger rolled Stan onto his side before grabbing a device that looked like a metal wand, pressing the tip to the center of Stan's chest before swirling it in three tight circles. Ford didn't dare interrupt the bizarre ritual as the stranger dragged the metal wand up Stan's throat all the way to his mouth, no less than a gallon's worth of water pouring onto the sand as Stan's body twitched.

Then Stan was choking, coughing up the last of the water before sucking in a wheezing breath. And it felt like Ford could finally breathe again too, frantically grabbing for Stan as he openly sobbed. Ford pressed his face to Stan's violently shivering body, listening to his rasping breaths and weakened pulse. But he was alive. His little brother was alive.

"I'll carry him to the car, you collect my things." A heavily altered voice instructed and Ford looked up, blinking at the stranger. Honestly, he'd forgotten that the stranger was even there. "I'll purchase a motel room for the next few days, your brother can stay there until he has recovered."

Ford couldn't make himself ask the burning question of why the stranger was doing this for them, why he cared so much. Stan was the only thing that mattered right now, the answers to his questions could come later. Stan was his number one priority and he would not forget that ever again.

[holylulusworld]

Dishonored

Title: Dishonored

Summary: You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader (no polyamory)

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking), lies, manipulation, hurting people for revenge, implied loss of innocence, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, Steve being the worst, sadness, hopelessness, desperation, suicidal tendency/suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, fluff, we stan Bucky in this story

Rating: Mature

Words: 2,7 k 

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 9: “I never loved you.”

Square filled for Lulu’s Winter Bingo 2022: Square 4: Winter

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: C3: Free space – Royal AU

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C2: Sharing body heat

Please heed the warnings for this story. It contains triggering content such as attempted suicide.

You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace. 

How do you move on when your honor and grace get ripped away by the man who promised you love and devotion?

He lured you in – sweet-talked you into giving him the one thing you cherished the most. Your honor and innocence. Reserved for your future husband, and the man loving you unconditionally.

Lies. All lies.

It was a moment of weakness making you stumble and fall. Into his bed. Into his arms.

He took you apart, gentle, and slow. A miracle to you when you think about the aftermath.

A few months earlier, your father’s castle

“I can't believe Prince Steven came to woo me,” you mumbled to yourself. The prince arrived earlier this morning and you hoped your dreams would come true. You always felt a deep connection to the prince, and now, he’s here to talk to your father.

“Princess!” Your chambermaid scolded. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Your father called for you. He wants you to meet Prince Steven. He will stay at the castle for a few weeks until he travels to his uncle’s castle.”

Your face fell. He came here to sit out the approaching snowstorm, nothing else.

How could you have been foolish enough to believe he came to ask for your hand?

“I’m…coming,” you tried to not cry. All your hopes and dreams ended up on the ground - shattered and torn. “We cannot let our guest wait.”

“Father,” you stepped confidently toward your father to peck his cheek. He was always soft on you, and let you break a few rules. Especially when it came to etiquette. You’re his little thunderstorm, a wild child with a bright mind and softness that’s hard to find among royals. “I heard we have a guest.”

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the king softly said. He ran his hand over your hair and patted your head. “I need you on your best behavior. I angered the prince, and we don’t want him to tell his father the king about it.”

You wrinkled your forehead. “What? I don’t understand,” you whispered so no one could hear. Your father is one of the kindest people you know. How could he possibly anger the prince?

“Your Highness,” Steven walked inside the throne room, accompanied by his best friend, and confident Lord Barnes. The brunette watched you with interest while the prince’s eyes drifted toward your brother and his fiancé, Lady Margaret Carter. “I see the princess will join us for supper.”

“Your Highness,” you turned your attention toward the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. It’s been too long.” 

Steven eagerly took your offered hand to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.”

“Lord Barnes,” you smiled at the brunette. Last time you saw him he was reading a book in the garden, chuckling at something he read. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. The library is always open for you.”

“Princess,” Lord Barnes smiled wildly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh…my…you are too kind, Lord Barnes,” you replied gracefully and batted your eyelashes. “It’s always a pleasure having you around.”

Supper was more than pleasant. Lord Barnes kept the conversation flowing while the prince watched you the whole time. He complimented you and raised his glass on your beauty and grace.

You were surprised. His eyes seemed to be glued to your brother and his fiancé. Out of a sudden Prince Steven turned his attention toward you. He even stopped his friend from talking to you.

Your cheeks heated up, and you felt warm when he placed his hand next to yours, subtly brushing your pinkie with his finger.

It was the first time he was so close, and you allowed yourself to bask in his attention for as long as it lasted. 

The next days felt like a dream come true. Steven asked you to spend time with him and go for a walk in the gardens. For propriety's sake, a chaperon accompanied you and Steven. But you didn’t care at all.

The moments spent with the prince were the best of your life. He made you smile, and laugh and your heart flutter.

All that mattered to you was his smile, his soft blue eyes, and the way he looked at you. It was the same way your father looked at your father and your brother at his chosen bride.

“I wish these days will never end,” you dared to hope Steven would say the same.

He took you by surprise when he replied. “Even if they end,” he looked you deep in the eyes, leaning a little closer to whisper, “I’ll always come back to you."

The prince was about to press a soft kiss on your forehead when your chaperone stepped in.

“Your Highness, please do not forget you are wooing for a princess, not a wench. Remember your manners,” she tutted. “We should head back inside. It’s getting colder, and I can smell the snow.”

Marjorie, your chaperone was right. Winter came faster than expected, accompanied by a snowstorm that wouldn’t let up.

The whole country was suffering from the cold weather and the snow masses.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The snowstorm and unforgiving winter kept Steven and Lord Barnes from leaving your castle.

You didn’t mind. Most of the time you spend with Steven, chatting about his kingdom, childhood, and love.

Yes. Love.

You held hands, and when your chaperone wasn’t looking, he even stole kisses. Steven promised you that love is the most precious thing to protect in this world.

He played you well, you give him that.

Your heart couldn’t take being apart from Steven for a single moment. So, you gave him everything you had to offer, and what he was craving. 

On one of these cold winter nights, you let him sneak into your bedroom, and take you to bed. He kissed you, and when he settled between your thighs you believed he would make you his wife and love you forever.

When it was over, he smirked, and his eyes grew cold. Your heart dropped as he hastily redressed. “Steven, what are you doing?”

“My plan went well, didn’t it?” He looked at you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You grabbed the blanket to cover your body. The one he ruined with his touch. 

“I don’t understand, Steven. My love. What has gotten into you? You said you love me.” You cried as he looked at you, wrinkling his nose at your disheveled state. 

“I never loved you,” he coldly replied. “Your father forced the woman I love to marry your brother,” he sneered and curled his lips. “I stole his beloved daughter’s innocence. What will he do if he finds out you are carrying my bastard under your heart?”

“Steven, I don’t…” Your voice trembled. “Why? I…”

“I came here to ask your father to stop this insanity and let me marry Margaret. I love her dearly. He refused and wanted to send me away.”

You remember now. Your father told you that he upset Steven.

“But…she came here, begging my father to help her. She wanted to marry my brother. Margaret wasn’t my father’s first choice. Some princesses and ladies were more beautiful and with a better reputation. He agreed because she was in love with my brother and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t allow her to marry my brother.”

“What?” He looked a little shell-shocked at your words but shook his head. “Lies!” Steven yelled, making you flinch. “Shut your mouth, wench. Never talk about Margaret like that again.” 

He left without looking back and slammed the door shut. Leaving you devasted, heartbroken, and ruined.

After that night, he never looked at you. He declared that he was going to stay at the guest wing until it was time to leave.

One month later, …

Hopelessness is the only thing left in your life. You can feel a new life growing in your womb. Every passing day brings you closer to doomsday. 

Soon you won’t be able to hide the secret. Soon everyone will know you got dishonored.

Foolish girl letting a man take what should have never been his.

You run your hand over your belly, choking out another sob. If you want to save what’s left of your honor, you must take matters into your own hands.

Shakily you glance at the balcony parapet again. If you do it now, you can save your honor, and your father’s. 

Stepping toward the parapet you release a shuddery breath.

What if it’s not high enough? What if you survive? What if they ask questions?

“No,” you step away from the parapet. This is the wrong way to go. You must let it look like an accident. Or maybe, if you can find someone selling you a potion, you can end your life painlessly and fast.

The river looked inviting to you. You looked at the floating water, fascinated by its power and grace.

Once upon a time, you were gracefully too. 

That was until your grace and innocence got ripped away from you like it meant nothing to him. “If I step into the river, it will be over soon. Maybe they will believe it was an accident. I slipped and fell into the river.”

Slowly, you stepped toward the water, closing your eyes for a moment. This was the only way to save your honor. The water would wash away the sin you committed and take your secret with it.

You took another step, and another until you felt the cold water kiss your feet. “Cold.” You whispered but walked farther into the water, feeling it tug at your gown. “It will be over soon, my little stardust.” You rubbed your belly. “I’m so sorry.”

The water surrounded you, almost reaching your waistline as you heard someone call for you. “Princess! NO!”

It was Lord Barnes. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw you in the river. He knew something was wrong with the way his friend acted out of a sudden.

“Nooo!” You heard the water splashing and then, two strong arms wrapped around you like anchors holding you in this world. “What are you doing, princess.”

“I cannot…he dishonored me,” you choked out a heartbreaking sob. “I cannot remain. No man will want me. Not after he took my innocence and…the baby…it will be a bastard.”

Lord Barnes stiffened when the words floated out of your mouth like the water in the river. He couldn’t believe his friend and confidant would do such a thing to you for revenge.

“My love. No,” he dragged you out of the water, and wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry in his chest until there were no tears left in you. Lord Barnes said. “Stay with me, my love. I’ll keep you warm. We need to keep each other warm.”

“But I—” You lifted your head to look at him with tear-clouded eyes. “You should’ve let me die. Father will…”

“He won’t know. Not about what happened with Steven, nor what you did today. What a coincidence I came by when you slipped and fell into the river,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I came back to ask for your hand, and to wed you in spring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words. “I’m…ruined. You don’t want me, or my bastard child.”

“I will love it like my own, my love,” he kissed your cheek. “You are not ruined, princess. Only a little broken. But we can fix this. I got my heart broken once too. We will heal together.”

“My lord, the babe…it’s not yours…I can’t…you can’t.”

“It’s cold, let’s head back to the castle and get you warm. I’ll call for a healer…”

“Not a word about her condition except for the cold,” Lord Barnes warned the healer. “If you say a word about the other thing,” he patted his sword, “you won’t be able to spend all the gold you’ll get.”

“Not a word,” the healer nodded and walked back inside your room.

“Marry my daughter?” Your father eyed Lord Barnes warily. He came back a few days after Prince Steven and he left the castle. Alone, and with a grim expression. “But…what about the prince?”

“He’s a foolish man, my king,” Lord Barnes growled. “He lost his heart one too many times to a pretty face. I cherish your daughter, her grace, and her kindness. If you allow me to woo her, I’ll be forever grateful. I’m not a prince but love her dearly.”

“She admires you too,” the king replied. “She talked about you, and that you love to read as much as she does. If my daughter agrees, I’ll agree on your bond.”

Lord Barnes didn’t wait until spring to wed you. He insisted on marrying you within another month. 

You watched him with sad eyes as he desperately tried to fix his friend’s mistake.

“Lord Barnes, you can still find a better bride,” you took his hand to press a soft kiss on his knuckles. “I’m thankful that you tried to save my honor, but I cannot make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“My love,” he whispered. “I fell for you the first time we met. If only I knew about Steven’s plans, I wouldn’t have stepped back and let him woo for you.”

“It’s not your fault, only mine,” you sniffled, and wiped your eyes. “I wasn’t raised to become a wench. I decided to let him do this to me…”

“Y/N, you’re not a w-.” He shook his head. “Never use that word again,” he angrily said. “He was the one stealing the light from you. You’re still an innocent angel.”

“I know that I’m not,” you hid your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to let the mask you wear so well slip. “You’ll get damaged goods, my Lord.”

“Call me James, or Bucky, my love,” he gently rubbed your back. “I promise, you are far from damaged goods for me. You are going to be my wife and I’ll love you. And the babe will get all my love too. They are going to mine.”

“What a beautiful pair, don’t you think?” Your mother asked. “She looks happy, my love.”

Your father smiled wildly as he watched you and your groom share the first dance. You smiled and laughed as Bucky twirled you around.

“I was worried about our daughter for a while. Prince Steven’s departure left her heartbroken,” the king held out his hand for his wife. “Let us join them and celebrate their union.”

The queen smiled and took your father’s offered hand. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

A mother always knows when her child is in need. 

She will never break her promise to herself and tell her husband that she saw you at the river when Lord Barnes saved you, or that she heard what you confessed.

“He is a good man, my love,” the queen whispered. “Our beloved daughter couldn't find a better man.”

While everyone celebrated your wedding and danced, Steven stood in a corner, watching you and his best friend happy together.

He squared his jaw and balled his hands into fists. His heart dropped watching Margaret and your brother join you on the dance floor. 

Everything he did was in vain…

Tags in reblog.

[yanderederee]

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝒹, 𝒜𝓁𝓁 ℳ𝒾𝓃𝑒

Manjiro sano x reader

cw: suicidal thoughts and attempt of. Yandere heavy.

✦•·································•✦𓆩♡𓆪✦•··································•✦

“Right now. You’re dead.”

Confused beyond belief, you’re stricken with shock. What was going on?

Right now, you were sitting in the hallway of the apartment you lived in by yourself. Yet, face to face with, what appeared to be, your ex boyfriend.

You slowly begin regaining sense of what happened just moments ago.

You recall the endless pit of helplessness you found yourself in after a night out with friends. A night meant to make you feel better from the daily stress of maintaining your life.

Yet all you’ve done is mask, pretend, fake smiles, and stroke the egos of everyone around you, just so someone would give you a shred of attention.

This constant facade of happiness; trying to pretend like cracks cornering your life had finally become unrepairable.

You were becoming more and more damaged as the days pass. And still, not a single person will bat their eye in your direction. Acknowledge that maybe you could use a shoulder to cry on, to rant to.

The fun night filled with fake smiles and empty giggles finally winded down, and once you returned home to your empty apartment, silence surrounding you…

It was time to stop pretending.

Face reality once again that at the end of the day.

You are alone.

As good as dead, until the next conceivable excuse to rope you out came around. Not because it was for your own sake, but to maintain appearances.

“Because we’re friends, right?”

When… was the last time you felt such a connection with another person?

The thought made you laugh and cry all the same. Shuffling further in to the empty space that was temporarily yours, you finally couldn’t talk yourself out of it any longer.

This was reality.

It had been a long time since the last real attempt you made at stifling your own life. The tools were always at your disposal in waiting, waiting.

You were finally successful this time. Ready to finally commit to escaping the never ending cycle of inadequacy and inconvenience.

By now, you should be…

“…Dead.”

The words woke you again from the haze.

Were you?

“It’s okay. You’re dead now. You don’t have to worry about anything, ever again.” The soothing voice promised you so, so sweetly.

Your feint heartbeat and burning eyes proved this point false.

“Why are you here?” You asked quietly. Calmly.

“Because you’re mine.” He answered as easily as it was to breathe.

“Why did you stop me?” You croaked, fresh tears rolling down your face.

“… because you’re mine.” Manjiro repeated slower this time.

Shit. You cried, huddling in on yourself, unable to suppress the tremors that overcame you. There was nothing left you had to say to him.

“It’s okay,” he shushed you, forcibly handling you into his embrace, holding your shaking form tightly. “You won’t have to worry about anything, ever again..”

What kind of sense did that make, you had initially thought. As long as you breathe, you will never be satisfied going on. Continuously maintaining a facade of a person; never truly living.

Having no strength left to fight him off you, or any will to do so to begin with, you curled up into the little bit of warmth he offered, and cried. Heavily, without shame. For so long, you hadn’t even realized, you had cried yourself to sleep.

…

You would soon understand, that he was right; You Were Dead.

When you awoke, the surrounding memories of your old life were gone; as though permanently erased. No childhood photos or memories. No dangly earrings of cute designs.

A new life laid out before you. One where you needn’t put on appearances, now that you never made an appearance to anyone at all.

Because Manjiro only ever wanted you; the genuine, authentic, broken, you.

Time became constructive, as it primarily was. Days blurred. The sun rose and fell again, and again, and again.

The only thing that mattered, or changed, was when Mikey was and was not present.

Though the things surrounding you were expensive, quality, and plush, the only thing with genuine warmth, was him.

You were dead; the only presence of life being Manjiro’s own dead eyes, the same ones that lit up like stars, as if he were a child again, when he saw you in all your pitiful glory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he would smile. The only thing that brought the him or you any sense of life, was eachother.

Two broken halves that became whole once together. That was all you were, and all he was, anymore.

And still, you can’t see how death would be any better. For at least here, you needed only for the one who needed you.

art credit:@110mandarin

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Rejected Soulmate au where after Tim rejects Phantom on the rooftop Danny plans on taking how own life when he's stopped by Ras Al Ghul who talks him down and praises him for his talent and skill before managing to convince him to be an assasin.

Danny doesn't want revenge on the bats but hes lost most of his morals at this point and in his depressive spiral he's become very easy to manipulate and rather apathetic to others plights. He quickly rises in the ranks and is personally trained by Talia and other high ranking members of the league in combat styles both utilizing his multitudes of powers and teaching him to fight without them.

Phantom is eventually sent out on a mission to his home dimension to kill Vlad Masters and bring his corpse back to Ras for research and experimental purposes. This is when Danny learns that Amity Park did not do well in his absence and had become a war zone.

Sam had the nerve to act released that Danny was back and was going to "fix everything" and even got mad when he told her he had nothing to do with this city or its inhabitants. She tried to yell at him and say it was his "responsibility" and he blasted her in the face without a second thought, leaving her in critical condition and Tucker freaking out and trying to help her.

Danny smiled. That felt good. Not as good as wiping that smug look off of Vlads face nor the look of horror when he realized he was dying again. Danny made a show of Phantom killing Plasmious in broad daylight and letting what was left of the city see him transform back into Masters as he died before dragging his corpse through a portal and disappearing with him.

Ras was so pleased with Phantom. After all, he never failed a mission.

[novelcain]

When Worlds Collide

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

FANDOM: Jujutsu Kaisen

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PAIRING: Gojo x reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PLATFORM: AO3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

SYNOPSIS:

After attempting to commit suicide, you inexplicably find yourself in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen with none other than Gojo Satoru himself. Will you be able to change the future, or are you destined to be nothing more than a spectator to the pain that lies ahead?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Fallen Angel

Chapter 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[civilight-eterna]

project sekai doing the right thing of immediately removing songs from their game written by a predator in his 30's attempting murder-suicide on his teenage girlfriend

met with a not-unsubstantial amount of cries of "nooo poor Rui losing more songs!!"/"what's gonna happen to my title for getting full combos with that song in it"

shut the fuck up. shut up. shut the ffffffffffuck up. if you think mourning your full combo or the imagined feelings of a fictional character is more important than the girl who was stabbed in the chest in her sleep by her fucking coward of a groomer-actually, if you think it's at all appropriate to bring up given the circumstances, that's. yikes. extend that empathy towards an actual victim please. the band split up immediately and the singer has stated she will never sing those songs again. they are literally stained with the blood of an underage victim.

[disillusioneddanny]

Bones Exposed deleted scene

I wrote this for my fic Bones Exposed but it just didn’t fit right in the scene I originally wrote it for but still really enjoyed the small scene. I might try to figure out where I can put it later on. If you haven’t read the fic, you can check it out here on my ao3 profile.

TW: talks of attempted suicide.

Danny sighed and ran a hand over his face as he stared down at the soft carpeted floor. Tim was sitting next to him, his eyes never leaving Danny’s form. And why would he look away? Danny had just shown him that he was Phantom, someone that Tim had said over and over was his favorite hero.

“I tried one time, you know,” he said, unable to look at his friend. “Especially after everything was over. After my parents were arrested and Jazz stopped talking to me and I was alone. It wasn’t even hard, that’s what was so scary. I was twenty years old and I got the gun from some random Gothamite. I tried and it was like my core spit it out.”

Danny let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? My ghost half is actively killing me, every day my human side gets weaker and weaker, the chronic pain, the seizures, they get worse. But the one time I tried to actually just end the suffering, my ghost half just wouldn’t let me. How fucked up is that? So here I am, slowly dying and theres not even a way I can do it on my own terms. I’m a prisoner to my own body and there’s nothing I can do.”

[bitchyhideoutnerd]

I just want to give everyone in Wind breaker a Big Hug™️ ~ Part 5 ft. UME-CHAN!!

NO WHAT IT WASNT YOUR FAULT

NOOOOOOO UME DONT DO IT ITS NOT WORTH IT NOOOOO

there there, let it all out baby boy

AWW THIS IS SO PURE AND SWEET^^

yalls this wallpaper mine now thanks

i can ses where he got the indigestion from LMAOOO

is sakura blushing

UP UP AND AWAY

sugi's attachment to senpai is kinda cute lol

[valhelos]

LEPrecon page 69 [Start] || [prev] | [next]

[nowimjustastranger]

did stcmo ford ever get to save a stan in a very similar situation to how his stan died?

He sure has.

It's a big multiverse so he's absolutely come across a Stan that had slit his wrists before calling his brother to say goodbye. The difference in Dimension 41/S7 is that Stan's brother would've answered the phone, getting to hear Stan's suicide note in real time. At first, Ford 44/S7 would think that Stan was tipsy because of how sluggish he sounded, but he began to suspect something else was at play because of how lucid Stan was.

It's safe to say that a creeping feeling of dread took root as Ford 44/S7 realized that what Stan was saying sounded an awful lot like a goodbye, so he desperately asked Stan to come meet him in Gravity Falls so they could talk things out properly. But Stan's response only confirmed that Stan wasn't expecting to be around much longer, because he simply laughed and told Ford that he wanted nothing more than to see his brother but he didn't think it was in the cards for him.

Enter Ford 419"3, who finds Stan leaning heavily against the payphone, blood everywhere. Ford would frantically grab at Stan to drag him back because he needed medical attention immediately, which would trigger Stan's fight or flight response. Poor Ford 44/S7 would be stuck listening to his brother presumably being attacked, shouting into the phone for Stan, who was cussing up a storm as he grappled with Ford 419"3. Stan would run out of energy, weakly trying to struggle as Ford 419"3 repaired his severed veins and sealed the wounds.

They were both breathing heavily and covered in blood by the time Ford 419"3 finished patching Stan up, 44/S7 Ford's tiny voice coming out of the free hanging receiver. Stan passed out from blood loss and Ford 419"3 briefly turned his attention to his counterpart, grabbing the receiver to bark out an address before hanging up.

[writer-zie]

Once More.

GENRE: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Pairing: Ji Cheong-Sin x fem!Reader

Summary: You were Cheong-Sin's girlfriend before the accident. As you sink into despair, a knock on the door pulls you from death's arms.

WARNINGS: Attempted Suicide, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Neglect, Grief, Suggestive content at the end.

A/N: The amount of Cheong-Sin content in this fandom is like almost zero, so I decided to be the change I want to see in the world and wrote it. Hope you enjoy!

No use of Y/N or L/N, I replaced it with Yeong-Nae(the initials are Y-N) and Lee-Nam(initials are L-N)

Also Cheong-Sin calls you Nae Sarang and Naekkeo meaning "My love" and "mine/my sweetheart".

WORD COUNT: 1,683

----------

When Cheong-Sin disappeared, you fell apart. You had no idea what could've happened to him. First, his cruel adopted father died, which you could be somewhat glad about. He treated him like he was trash, disposable, nothing more than an asset. So, when he died, you expected him to be sunny, cheerful, or at least less serious, but no. He was happy, but not in the "I'm free from my oppressor" way.

He was happy in the "I freed myself from my oppressor" way. Even his eyes didn't seem right. When he'd cup your face in his hands, and look into your eyes, something was off.

You swore you'd seen a flash of red there at some point. When he had pulled away from kissing your neck, you could've sworn his pupils had stretched out, like a snake's.

However, over the next few days, that stopped, and he had gone back to normal. No scary moments. He did seem slightly more...intense than usual though.

But then the murders started. Brutal ones, silent ones, unimportant and important people were dying all around. You urged him to stay home, for fear he'd fall victim to this violent killer. He didn't.

You got more and more worried, as more and more murders happened, and suddenly, he disappeared. Gone. No trace.

His phone went to voicemail, and he had no other friends she could ask of his location.

Things only got worse after that. You thought he had been murdered, but when he was pronounced as the murderer? No. Not your Cheong-Sin. Not him.

You didn't leave your apartment for days. You barely left your bed. Surely there had to be some mistake? A mix-up? You couldn't have been living with a— dating, a murderer this whole time? There had to be a mix-up. But you couldn't just go to the police and ask. They'd take you in as a suspect, and you'd be on the news, publicized, possibly used as leverage against him. You couldn't have that.

As you were just beginning to make yourself believe that it had all been a mix-up, the news said he was dead.

No. No. Nonononono.

No.

A noise complaint fell through your letterbox because of how loud you screamed. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. The news even called him "Violent serial killer Ji Cheong-Sin"

He couldn't be dead. Was he killed in revenge for murders you knew he didn't commit?

It was only yesterday that the news was shared. Today was the first time you had left your room in 2 weeks. People saw you, saw the state of your face and hair, the dead look in your eyes.

"What happened, Yeong-Nae? Are you alright? You look ill." they'd say. And they were right, you did look ill. Cheeks sunken, eyes red, face pallid, and you'd lost a few pounds, so your clothes were ill-fitting, hanging loose on your grief-influenced frame.

It would be the last time they saw you out of the apartment, too. Because the only thing you'd gone out for was to buy two things.

Rope, and a ceiling bar.

You held them in an opaque bag, lest anyone try to stop you. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fixed the bar to the ceiling, not caring what your upstairs neighbours thought. They had begun to subside as you tied the rope around the bar. However, before you took the plunge, you had one more thing to do.

You ripped a piece of paper out of a nearby notepad and begun to write.

"Suicide Note.

Hello, all. I'm writing this because on the 27th of August, at 16:50-something, I am committing suicide. All my money goes to charity, my belongings too, except my diaries, pictures, and cards, those should be buried with me. I have no surviving relatives, so don't bother looking for them.

Also, Cheong-Sin didn't do it. He would never, ever do such a thing. You're wrong, I'm sure of it.

Goodbye,

Lee-Nam Yeong-Nae."

There. It was done. You sellotaped the note to the back of your shirt.

You pulled the stool you'd been sitting on out from the table, and positioned it under the noose. You took one more look at your meagre apartment, one more look out of the window as you slipped your head through the loop, but just as you were about to kick the stool out from under you-

Knock knock.

Who could be at the door at such an inconvenient time? Reluctantly, you removed your head, stepped off the stool, and looked through the peephole. The person was just out of view. All she could make out was the edge of a black hoodie, and the corner of a jawline. Didn't look official, and even if they were, you wouldn't be letting them in.

"What do you-" you started, opening the door just a crack. But that was enough to see it.

Your heart dropped, then shot up into your throat, rendering you unable to speak. Your knees felt light, and your lungs suddenly stopped breathing. You felt like you wanted to faint, to throw up, to cry, to scream-

But all you got out was a single word.

"Ch-Cheong-Sin?" you half-whispered.

"Yes, nae sarang?" he replied. You reached out to touch him, making sure he wasn't a ghost, or some suicidal hallucination. Your frail hand crept up his chest, up his neck, trailed across his face, and under the hat he was wearing, searching for the thing that would confirm who he was beyond a doubt.

The scar.

And the scar is what she felt under her fingers, on the edge of his hairline, trailing back in a jagged line.

"Cheong-Sin..." you murmured, launching yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around him as a dark patch began to grow on his shirt, your tears blossoming like a flower. His arms wrapped around you too, squeezing you like he'd never let you go. His eyes didnt catch the state of the room, not even the dirt on the surface, the dust in the corners, rubbish all around, no.

The only thing he could focus on besides you was the noose hanging from the ceiling.

You were going to...kill yourself?

And then he realised. It was him.

The news had probably devastated you. First, he'd disappeared, then the murders started, and then he was pronounced as the murderer. And finally, just yesterday, he had been pronounced dead.

"Look at her. She was going to kill herself already. Why not just kill her and get it over with?" whispered the spirit, as Cheong-Sin's eyes were swallowed by blackness.

"No. Not this one.” he replied, quenching the bloodthirst before it had a chance to flare up.

"...Fine.”

He sighed in relief.

"I missed you." he said out loud, burying his face in her hair. His hands brushed the paper on your back as you two embraced, and he pulled away slightly, removing it.

He briefly scanned it, and almost choked up at the last part.

So certain, even in the face of death. But it pained him to tell you you were wrong. He couldn't do it. He'd let you live a fantasy, as long as you were happy.

"I'm so, so sorry, nae sarang. | didn't tell you anything. You must have been so worried about me, hm?"

"M-ah-Mhm! sniff I-I did! Where...where did you g-hiccup-go?" you choked, chest racking with sobs.

"I, um, had something to take care of. Don't worry." he replied, stroking your hair.

"The n-news...the news-hic-said you were the m-murderer, and...and that you...you died yesterday, a-and—"

"Don't stress, nae sarang, I'm here now. You didn't believe all that nonsense, right?" he responded, pulling your head off his chest, wiping your tears away with a soft knuckle.

"Mm mm. I know you wouldn't do that." you murmured, sobs retreating.

"Good. You know I love you, right?"

You started crying again. No words came out, just frantic nods and a stream of tears.

The door to your apartment was still open, and people could probably hear you crying from outside, so, Cheong-Sin's hands crept under your thighs, lifting them up with minimal effort, and around his waist, pinning you to him. He stepped forward into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Come on, let's just kill her now! She's helpless! We can smell her soul from he—"

"No. I said no. If you hurt this one, I'll—"

"I? You? We're one, Cheong-Sin. Anything you do to me, you do to you."

"Okay then, if we hurt this one, you lose your host."

"But that's not possible! You'd have to kill yourself!"

"Exactly."

"Tch. Fine. Enjoy your little emotion-fest."

"Ch-Cheong-Sin? What are you whispering about?" you asked, arms around his neck.

"Nothing, nae sarang. Let me make it up to you." he replied, stepping forward. You felt your back against the wall as he pressed you into a corner.

"Make it up to me? How—!~" you started, being cut off by his lips on yours. His hand slipped out from under your thigh and to the back of your head, anchoring his fingers in your hair as he pressed your head forward. You fully melted into his embrace, stomach settling as you placed both your pallid hands on his face, every second you had missed his touch coming out in the moment of passion.

Deep groans came from his throat as his tongue slipped past your lips, tracing your teeth like he never wanted to forget their pattern. As his hips pressed against yours, you felt a heat growing in your abdomen. You let out soft whimpers as he took your top lip between his teeth and bit down softly. He pulled away slightly, eyes still locked onto yours, hungry with desire.

"Don't stop." you whispered, breathlessly.

"With pleasure, naekkeo."

Within a few seconds, he had swiped you away from the wall, and your back was met with the soft cushion of your mattress.

Oh how you'd missed him.

[aka-tua-braindump]

Just a thought about a fic idea.

The ghoul is travelling the wasteland and he chances upon someone who looks on the verge of taking their own life. He stops to watch, unnerving them, as he waits for them to do it so he can take their supplies. Somehow that irks the person enough to not do it.

I don't know where to go from there, but I thought it was interesting.

[sugaroto]

TW: attempted suicide

Ways Michalakis (Egklimata) tried to kill himself:

Episode 1:

Poison (sulfuric acid)(I think)

Machete

Hanging himself with Soso's bra

Putting his head in the mincer

Why he didn't die:

He didn't drink it

Alekos visited him

The bra couldn't hold him up so he just fell

His head didn't fit

Episode 2:

Blow himself up

Why it didn't work

He stopped cause he wanted to watch whether the pathetic man on TV (Achilles) found his lost sister (Korina)

[aftgficrec]

Hellooooo, I can’t believe this is open!1!1!!1 First of all, I wanted to thank you all so much for all the work you do!

I wanted to ask for fics about the twinyards pretending to be each other. Mainly light funny ones if you find them but any will do. Thank you so much!!!

Hi there, anon! Most of the light funny ones can be found in our previous ask for this. -A

NB: in longer fics this could just be a quick switch, so read them with that in mind

previous recs:

the twins switch 1 here

‘the glow in our mouths’ and ‘The Morning AUs Chapter 52: The Parent Trap AU’ here

‘The one with Kevaaron’ here

‘Aftg Youtube AU’ here

‘Forming a Family; Forging a Future’ here

you may also like:

Neil mistakes Aaron for Andrew here

twinyard mistaken identity here

‘If I Knew You’ here

aaron minyard is a little bit cursed series by BlueJay26 [Rated G, 2 complete works, Updated June 2023, Locked]

Part 1: Jeremy Knox Solves the Transmutation Question: Baffles Centuries' Worth of Alchemists [1429 Words, Twinyards Appreciation Week 2022] [Merriam-Webster] metamorphosis| \ˌme-tə-ˈmȯr-fə-səs\ : a change of physical form, structure, or substance especially by supernatural means // the metamorphosis of a perfectly nice teak table into gold (by your baby cousin who won't stop getting cursed) Or, Nicky endures the twins' shenanigans in every possible universe. **Written for Twinyards Appreciation Week, prompt - metamorphosis**

Part 2: AITA? No. Am I cursed? Very probably. [505 Words] I impersonated my twin brother to play a trick on his boyfriend. AITA?

AFTG Bingo 2k18: The Twinyard Card by exactly13percent [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2018] 

Chapter 2: Pretend College is difficult enough to navigate without Andrew playing games with Aaron's best friend.

Two of a Kind by gluupor [Rated T, 9957 Words, Complete, 2019]

When Aaron didn't get offered an exy scholarship while Andrew did, they came up with a plan. Andrew would play exy and Aaron would go to class. No one would ever know that they were actually two separate people. What could possibly go wrong?

After Aaron goes to Andrew’s Press conference by @iserenademefan [Tumblr, 2018]

Andrew and Aaron pretending to be eachother by @offbrandginger [Tumblr, 2017]

angstier twins switch:

‘Give Me Another Minute (to Lay Here in Your Echo)’ and ‘another turning point, a fork stuck in the road’ here

‘Unlucky Lies’ here 

‘aparecium’ here 

‘Brother’s Best-Friend’ here

‘white walls’ here

‘Deals With Devils’ here (updated)

Doctor, What Doctor by AceSirenSinger [Rated T, 4081 Words, Complete, 2023]

And then, unfortunately, Aaron has an idea. The idea itself is almost not worth having. It is deeply unethical. It is the opposite of ‘do no harm,’ and it is not even guaranteed to work. Aaron actually thinks that this idea might be worse for his license than performing illegal care on a probable criminal in a back alley in the dark. No, Aaron thinks, it is undeniably worse. “You’re a survivor,” Aaron repeats. “You should already be dead, but you’re not. You should pass out sometime in the next few minutes, but I’m guessing you won’t.” Aaron squares his shoulders, makes himself say the words. “If I give you an address, can you get there? •• An AU where Aaron is a doctor, Andrew is FBI, and Neil’s gone rogue against the mafia. Neil needs medical care, and it really should be Aaron performing it, right? Right??

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: major character injury, tw: blood, tw: violence, tw: needles

Your love is my drug by babyprincess675 [Rated G, 24524 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

Andrew Minyard’s life has been painfully mediocre for years since high school, nothing but guilt keeping him alive up until his twin brother invites him to his Christmas themed wedding in Alaska, where everything changes. Or Andrew gets invited to Aaron’s wedding after years of no contact and things go wrong.

tw: anxiety disorder, tw: suicide attempt, tw: overdose, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: alcohol

in a manner of speaking by likearecord [Rated T, 6335 Words, Complete, 2021]

In Andrew's defense, blind dates are terrible and almost all of Kevin's friends are even worse. Nine times out of ten, calling in a favor to get Aaron to switch and tank it for him would be fine. Unfortunately, Andrew found number ten.

Crossfire by RoseGold_En [Rated M, 18396 Words, Complete, 2018]

The year is 2073. Andrew and Aaron Minyard are twins born into a world with a strict one-child policy due to overpopulation. They take on a singular identity as "Adam Minyard", with only one of them allowed outside at a time. Siblings who are discovered are separated from their families and put into an eternal cryosleep. One day, Andrew disappears. Aaron and Nicky have to find him while maintaining the twins' cover. It's up to Aaron to find out who sold them out and why a bureau agent named "Neil" knows his brother's real name.

tw: vomit, tw: alcohol, tw: violence, tw: gun violence, tw: death, tw: choking, tw: blood, tw: involuntary outing, tw: fire, tw: needles

Secret twin royalty au by @professionalfangirl24601 [Tumblr, 2021]

When queen Tilda gave birth to male identical twins, she knew it could be a threat to her country's future stability. In order to avoid the brothers fighting for the throne, she decided to give one of them up. He would be raised by a maid and then imprisoned with an iron mask constantly covering his face. 

Backliner Andrew by @palmettofoxden [Tumblr, 2017]

Part 1: Andrew takes Aaron's place  Part 2: Andrew takes Aaron’s place - follow-up ideas  Part 3: Backliner Andrew 3/? 

aaron is fat and buff too!!! hc by @palmett-hoes [Tumblr, 2020]

they're deals on deals on deals. meta by @thespineoftherighteous [Tumblr, 2023]

Art

Minyards art by @lnmei

HAPPY TWINYARD DAY!!! art by @babaleza

Aaron and Andrew sand castle building art by @emry-stars-art

POV: You’re Riko and the Twinyards are burying your body. art by @/capt.christine on instagram

nerdy Minyards art by @/intradaya on instagram

Mindyards on defense art by @/kulartly on instagram

andrew & aaron sarcastic healing art by @oliviaillustrations