#we’re just gonna stay in all day and ill get worse and worse and have another mental breakdown

[wlwanakin]

hi keaton! thoughts on anakin and obi-wan’s relationship if anakin left the order for padmé and the kids? the mess and fallout is so interesting to me and no one ever talks about it

i’ve been thinking abt this a LOT bc i chronically keep writing stuff where obi-wan and anakin don’t talk anymore lol and a falling out feels like such an inevitability with most “fix it” scenarios that people just straight up don’t consider?? and i do find that annoying. any scenario where anakin leaves the order for padmé (and the twins) would cause a rift (of varying size, depending on the circumstances) and i don’t think it’s an unfixable one but i do think that to get to that idealistic uncle obi-wan point everyone loves it’d take years and a lot of working through things and a lot of Talking About It, which obi-wan is generally not super fond of as he processes approximately one emotion a year, so it’d be a laborious process and he is not going to be attending the twins’ first birthday party.

throughout the war obi-wan is aware of anakin and padmé’s relationship and he’s fine letting them have it, and honestly i think that might make things worse if anakin found out bc it’s instance #2517485857 of obi-wan refusing to vocalize support for him, and also would not soften the general disapproval for anakin Choosing To Leave. and that is a bit explosive! as most things are with anakin really. bc obi-wan did let anakin have that but he is also extremely steadfast in his belief that anakin Needs the jedi, that they’re his family etc and obviously there’s the responsibility aspect of it all and i’m sure he’d make that known and that’s gotta be an infuriating thing to hear from someone you’ve always yearned for familial affection from but never gotten a sufficient amount of it from. and i do think anakin’s rots novel mindset of “my wife and kids are my family, not you guys” would cross over, along with the resentment buildup, and…well! they certainly wouldn’t be parting amicably.

i think the specifics of how long the fallout lasts, how severe it is etc really depends on the specifics of the scenario. like if we’re talking an au where the clone war is still raging there’s a much bigger sense of abandoning duty and i think it’s also harder to process the moral ills of your closely held religion when you’re smack in the middle of them and you kinda have to push all your growing disillusionment aside and keep clocking into The War every day and i think that might lead to a worse and longer-lasting relationship rift, just because too much shit is happening at once and no one has processed anything and why would they wanna process more things. a peacetime scenario would probably fare only slightly better, though i think how much better highly depends on how obvious the moral rot of the order becomes to obi-wan due to whatever circumstances led into ambiguous happy au, and frankly if he doesn’t let himself process his own disillusionment then anakin’s is going to continue to be incomprehensible and that disconnect will continue to make his perception be “you abandoned your religious moral obligation” which is not gonna fare well!! obviously!!! especially if obi-wan’s loyalty to the order remains to such a degree that he expects the twins to be brought to the temple.

in General i think anakin leaving would leave to an explosive fight where obi-wan tries to talk him out of it, and maybe they do stay in contact in whatever strained limited way they can or maybe they don’t but it can’t really be The Same. they do love each other and i do think that deep down they want each other in their lives and that is the main reason i don’t think a fallout between them would be permanent but like i said at the start it would be laborious to get to a point where they’re actually close again. they have to Communicate Their Feelings, they have to close decades old wounds, obi-wan has to admit his wrongs and express affection in a way that is actually remotely normal, anakin has to actually sit down and process things that happened to him, entire worldviews must come into question, like it’s not really gonna be fun for either of them (esp for obi-wan). and i really think this is the kind of thing that has to take years bc anakin needs time to heal from his Everything and obi-wan needs time to come to terms with the fact that hey maybe his worldview was not correct? maybe the order he gave his life to is not entirely noble? and neither of these things are things that come easy. and while those things are happening it’d probably be better for them to not talk bc any talking they do would probably be incredibly unkind lmao

[carisisrolledupsleeves]

79. "we're not just friends you know that" with Sonny please please

thank you anon, i hope you like.....listening to one of my favorite songs (First Love/Late Spring by Mitski) inspired this....also Peter in Mutual Friends gif because I needed something pre-SVU (also i love Nate sm, iykyk)

i got a bit carried away with this ngl

PS: to anyone else sending prompts, im gonna be super busy in the next few days so i have no idea when ill be able to write again but keep on sending them!

‘Carisi, I swear to God you stay the fuck away from me with that water gun!’ you squeal while running to the other side of the pool to escape the ice-cold water stream he’s been trying to aim at you. 

‘You’re gonna get wet eventually!’ he warns with a smirk, making it sound incredibly suggestive. 

You shake your head at him and roll your eyes but you can’t help blushing at the same time. Admittedly, you love his childish attempts at teasing you, and you know in this atmosphere and with all the alcohol flowing this weekend, the flirting will only get worse. Not that it ever leads to anything. You’re just friends, it’s innocent. So far. And you tell yourself you don’t want it to go further even though you catch yourself staring, your eyes wandering over his body as he takes off his shirt. 

It’s always been like that between you two. Ever since you met as undergrads at St. John’s a few years ago, taking the same sociology course. Sonny ended up sitting next to you, and that same evening you found each other again at a party and had started talking. He was sweet, and funny, and you could see yourself falling for him immediately if it hadn’t been for your recent heartbreak, that grueling breakup from your highschool sweetheart. You’d still had feelings for your ex although looking back now, it must have been nostalgia, and the fact that along with him, you had left girlhood behind for good. Going off to college meant becoming an adult and starting this new chapter was scary. When you met Sonny, all you needed was a friend. And he had been an amazing friend to you all these years, without ever asking for more. 

‘What’s that?’ your girlfriend asks, pointing at your chin and you avert your gaze from Sonny. 

‘What?’ you instinctively touch your face.

‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just swear I could see a bit of drool there.’ she laughs and you shove her.

‘Stop!’ 

‘Hey, I don’t blame you! He is hot. And you know he’s been checking you out in that bikini.’ she states and you swallow the lump in your throat just to let out an awkward laugh. 

‘We’re just playing around. You know how he is. It’s not that serious.’ you don’t know who you’re trying to convince, her or yourself. 

It’s true, your friendship has always been on the verge of becoming something more. The flirting wasn’t even the worst of it; it was the intimacy you shared, the fact that you had always been there for each other when times got tough. When Sonny questioned his choice of becoming a cop after finishing his degree in criminal justice, wishing he had gone to law school instead of the police academy. When your mom had that cancer scare and your dad was losing it, absolutely helpless and unable to take care of himself while she was getting her treatment. It wasn’t just fun and games. At the end of the day you had a deep and true friendship, and neither of you wanted to throw that away. 

But you can feel something shift. It is the way he looks at you as the sun goes down on that first day of your 4th of July weekend. Between laughs and giggles your eyes meet and he gets all quiet and serious, and there’s something in the air you can’t quite grasp. Or maybe it’s the way that friend of a friend asks you about him. If he’s single, and her smile in his direction when you tell her he’s not seeing anyone as far as you know. And then as you get tipsy in order to forget about it all, you realize that he’s keeping his distance for some reason, when he would normally be right by your side, having shots with you, annoying you with his lame jokes. 

Your phone vibrates and it’s a text from Sonny. A song by one of your favorite artists that you weren’t even aware he knew of. You look up to scan the crowd for him and find him sitting by the pool by himself, a bottle of beer in his hand. 

But I find that lately I’ve been crying like a tall child

You know the lyrics by heart, and there it is again, the lump in your throat. And that devastating feeling in your gut you’ve ignored so many times in the past. The longing to be close to him, to reach out and touch him, you’ve fought time and time again. His eyes meet yours and you draw in a sharp breath, wishing he would just go back to goofing around with you instead of this. Because this, you can’t come back from, you can’t undo.  

The only thing you can do is flee but he catches up with you just as you reach the top of the stairs, about to go hide in your room. Sonny’s hand grabs yours and you turn around to face him. And all of a sudden his lips are on yours.

Even if you wanted to protest, you can’t. It feels too good. After the initial shock you kiss him back, your hands are around his neck as his wrap around your waist. Maybe this isn’t right but you want it. You want him. Finally admitting it to yourself is your doom but what if it’s a blessing at the same time? Harboring this secret for so long, these fantasies you had about him and you, what if he’s had them too? Or was it all just another silly little game encouraged by the summer heat and booze?

Please, hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe

Please don’t say you love me

A spark shoots through you and starts to linger between your thighs as his tongue slips into your mouth, a needy moan on his breath. No, you can’t. You can’t give in to this if it’s simply a desire you have to satisfy, or curiosity. Your friendship means too much to you, and it would ruin everything. 

One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby

Tell me “don’t” so I can crawl back in

You push him away and Sonny gives you a confused look, searching your eyes for the answer to a question that hasn’t been asked. 

‘We can’t, Sonny.’

‘Why not?’ 

‘Because…I know we would regret it. And then I would lose my best friend.’ you reply, looking down on the floor to avoid his blue eyes piercing into yours.

‘We’re not just friends, you know that.’ he whispers, his finger under your chin lifting up your head again. 

‘Don’t…’ you’re scared of what he’s going to say next but it bursts out of him.

‘I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. But I knew you were hurting and being your friend was enough for me. I would never ask for more if I didn’t think it is what you wanted as well. And now we’ve been in denial for so long, and I keep thinking, what if it’s all in my head, y’know? So, please. Tell me it’s not all just in my head.’ he pleads and you can see his eyes filling with tears and it feels like your heart is twisting around itself in your chest. 

‘It’s not just in your head.’ you assure softly, your hand reaching out to touch his cheek where an ecstatic smile appears. 

‘So you’re in love with me too?’ Sonny asks, sounding like a little boy. 

It’s time to let go of your fears. Your own insecurities that had been holding you back although he had always brightened your day, always made your heart beat faster, ever since he asked you your name on that very first day of college. 

‘I am, Dominick. I’m in love with you.’ you confess, biting your lip shyly before kissing him again. 

A sweet, timid kiss, and yet it doesn’t take long until you pull him towards your room, shoving him against the door the second it closes. He groans, his hands traveling under your short sundress before almost tearing it off you. The rest of your clothes, and his, follow, landing all across the room. 

‘Fuck, you should always be naked. You’re so beautiful.’ Sonny breathes as you push him down on the bed, straddling him. 

‘I would get arrested.’ you grin, feeling him hard against you.

‘Good thing I’m gonna be a cop soon.’ he chuckles, his hands wandering over your body, making you tremble as one finds its way to your wet folds.

‘Dominick…’ you moan his name as he starts dragging his fingers back and forth through you, his thumb on your clit, massaging there. His touch is heavenly. 

You lift your hips again to guide his hard cock into you, letting him fill you to the hilt as you sink down on him. Fuck. In all your wildest fantasies you could have never imagined how amazing he would feel, stretching you in the most delightful way, throbbing so deep inside you. His thighs tense as he lets out the prettiest moan, taking in the sensation of your pussy around him, so wet and tight.

‘God, baby, you…-fuck!’ Sonny pants as you start moving on him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, waves of pleasure already crashing over your body. 

Finally being with him is exhilarating. The way he grips your hips, pulling you down harder onto him, showing you exactly how badly he wanted you for all this time. And you’re desperate for him too; your lips on his neck, sucking, licking, nibbling as blind passion takes over. His deep moans are music to your ears, unleashing something inside you you didn’t know was there before. You push him back on the bed in order to ride him harder, and his mouth hangs open as he watches his cock disappear into your glistening cunt. It doesn’t take long and you’re both panting hot messes, close to your orgasms. Sonny reaches down to find your clit, rubbing tight circles and you clench around him in response, feeling yourself climbing towards that peak and you steady yourself on his chest, smiling down at him. 

‘’You’re so fucking hot.’ you purr breathlessly. ‘You’re gonna m-make me c-cum. Fuck! Dominick!’ 

He thrusts up into you roughly, hitting that sweet spot just right, sending you over the edge. You come hard, scratching his skin and making him hiss as your pussy twitches around his cock. Your orgasm is earth-shattering, and if it wasn’t for the loud music downstairs, everyone would have heard your moans, the string of curse words leaving your mouth as you shake. You keep riding him, your flushed body grinding against his as you feel him tensing beneath you, and he spills into you, crying out your name. Fuck, having him come inside you makes you feel even more delirious; having him rub your clit still, making you pulsate around him again and again. 

When you finally collapse next to him you are both struggling to catch your breaths, and your thighs are still shaking as he pulls you close, kissing your hair. You remain like this for God knows how long before you decide you’re in need of a shower and you get up, dragging Sonny with you to the bathroom where you turn on the light.

‘Oh shit!’ you gasp, staring at his chest.

‘Guess I will have to keep my shirt on for the rest of the weekend.’ Sonny states, as he looks down, noticing the red scratch marks all over his upper body.

‘I’m so sorry.’ you cover your mouth with your hand, looking at him apologetically. 

‘Don’t be. I like it.’ he bites his lip, wiggling his brows at you. 

You have to laugh, and he reaches out to tickle you, to make you laugh even harder. The excitement of it all makes you dizzy. Dominick makes you dizzy. And your hands are all over him once more as you step into the shower, the feeling of his body pressed against yours making you moan again.  

request a prompt from the smut prompt list 🔥

[adrift-in-thyme]

@skyward-floored I know you’ve been sick all week so I wrote you a little something to help cheer you up. It’s short and probably not wonderfully edited but I hope you get some joy from it anyway :)

——————————

“Up and at ‘em Captain!” Legend calls as he stomps down the hall. “The day’s wasting away!”

The sun is already high in the sky. The other heroes are already dressed and packed and well into eating their breakfast. Yet, the captain is still snoozing away, snug as a bug beneath his blankets.

Must be nice being able to sleep through all that ruckus, Legend thinks, grumpily.

Though, now that he ponders it, it is rather unlike Warriors to slumber on like this. Usually, he is one of the first to awaken. By the time anyone else rises, he is already washed and dressed and looking entirely too well-kept for someone who catapulted out of bed before even the sun dared peek over the horizon.

A small shred of worry worms its way past Legend’s careful defenses. But he pushes it aside as he steps into the doorway.

“Hey, pretty boy! Did you hear me?”

By all appearances, the bed is occupied solely by blankets. And save for a few sniffles, their occupant remains steadfastly silent. Frowning, Legend steps closer.

“Warriors? You alive in there?”

“Mmph,” groan the blankets.

Legend grasps the nearest edge and flings them off. A very miserable-looking Warriors blinks up at him.

“Vet?”

Legend winces. His voice is painfully hoarse. Speaking must be agonizing.

His eyes are glossy too, he sees now, and his cheeks unnaturally flushed. A layer of sweat coats his forehead and drags down his curls. When he pushes himself upward, the movement is accompanied by a violent shudder that nearly lands him back on the bed.

The captain presses his fingertips to the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, is it time to get up? I-I didn’t realize…”

He trails off, blinking into the rays of sunlight that waft through the blinds. Panic streaks across his face.

“I overslept.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Legend puts a hand to his chest, pushing him back as he tries to get out of bed. He shivers beneath his touch, breath hitching.

“And it’s no wonder that you did. You look like crap, Wars. How long have you been sick?”

Warriors swallows, cringing as he does it.

“Don’t know.” He shrugs, weakly. “I haven’t felt well all week but I thought…I thought I was fine.”

His eyes widen.

“I’m gonna get everyone sick!”

“Well, yeah, probably. But we’ll be fine.”

Legend presses the palm of his hand to Warriors’ head, ignoring his weak attempts to shove him off.

“You’re burning up, captain. Lie back down.”

“But we-we need to get going…” Warriors looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “We were so close to the…we were so close…”

Legend sighs. “The monsters can wait. You need to rest.”

“Is everything alright in here?”

Time peeks around the door, now, a concerned expression on his face. When he catches sight of Warriors it deepens. In two strides, he is within the room.

“Captain, are you well?”

“He’s definitely not,” Legend says before Warriors can try and make excuses. “He’s sick as a dog.”

Time places a hand on Warriors’ forehead, then retracts it, a frown darkening his features.

“We will stay in the inn today. You must rest.”

“But Sprite…” Warriors begins. Time shakes his head.

“I’ll hear no arguments from the very man who forcibly snuggled me until I slept as a child.”

Legend snorts. “He did what?”

Time only smiles, his attention still on Warriors.

“Pushing on will only make you worse, captain. You would be the first to pause the journey if one of us were in your place. Let us take care of you.”

“Fine.” Warriors slouches, defeated. “Why’re you two so stubborn?”

Legend grins.

“You think we’re bad? Just wait until you see the others.” He winks. “Lemme go get ‘em.”

As he turns on his heel, Legend sees Warriors sink further into the bed. His grin grows wider.

Get comforted, captain.

Less than half of an hour later, the bedroom is swarmed by eight heroes, all armed with illness-fighting supplies. Sky and Wild, come bearing warm soup.

(“It’s the best for a sore throat,” Sky says with a smile and Wild nods, “yup, I cooked a big batch too, so you’ll have plenty of it.”)

Hyrule offers healing potions. Wind and Four bring armfuls of blankets.

(“Did you two raid every house in Castle Town?” Time asks in disbelief as he takes the small heroes’ bundles. Wind grins.)

(“Basically.”)

Twilight brings fresh water from the spring just outside of town, said to have healing properties…and also a stray cat to keep the captain company.

(“You sure that’s for his benefit?” Legend asks, narrowing his eyes as the rancher sets the animal on Warriors’ lap. Twilight just grins.)

Soon, Warriors is lying down once more, wrapped snugly in what Wind dubs a “blanket burrito,” with a belly full of soup and a cat on his legs.

Time brushes his bangs out of his eyes and places a cool cloth on his forehead. Warriors sighs at the touch.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Wind asks, eyes wide with concern. Oblivious to the captain’s warnings about germs, he has managed to fit himself in between the eternal blankets and the cat, cuddled against Warriors’ side.

Not that the knight seems to mind overly much, now that all is said and done. And as he settles on the end of the bed, Legend can’t help thinking he looks glad to have the company.

Warriors nods, eyes drooping.

“Yeah, I’m better, sailor.” He sends the heroes a tired grin. “Thanks to all of you.” His gaze flicks to Legend. “Especially, you vet.”

Legend’s cheeks heat and he looks down, waving a dismissive hand.

“Ah, no big deal. I’m not so mean as to let you die in here all alone and snotty and miserable.”

Warriors chuckles and closes his eyes. “So, you decided to suffocate me with blankets instead?”

Legend shrugs, a grin playing on his lips. “What can I say? I’m merciful.”

The blankets in question look rather comfortable and he decides to lay down upon them. He’s not the only one either. All of the heroes have drifted over now, cuddling up on a bed not made for nine men and boys. But they make do. And Warriors seems to melt in their embrace.

Legend smiles at the peaceful look on the captain’s face as he drifts off. He guesses even someone like the pretty boy needs a break once in a while. And — he chuckles as Wind and the cat compete for space — some snuggles too.

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 2

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, mention of doctors/illness/crashes, illusion to death, blood

WC: 2.1K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

“Got everything you need, Sunny?” 

You turned around. Bob was standing in the doorway to your room, wearing a pair of blue striped pajama pants and a white t-shirt that hung off his lean frame. You smiled and nodded. “Think I’m good for the night at least.” 

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you crossed your bare legs and looked around the room. It was a mess. You were waiting on the rest of your stuff to get shipped from your Brooklyn apartment where you had been living for the last eight months, so all you had were the two suitcases that you’d taken on the plane, now spread out on the ground, their contents spilled across the hardwood floors. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said quietly. 

Bob tipped his head. “Don’t have to thank me, darlin’. It’s your house now, too.” 

It was a sweet little two bedroom house, only a fifteen minute drive from the beach. But it was sparsely decorated. Your room had just a bed and a dresser, no art, no rugs, no lamps. “What are your thoughts on letting me redecorate, in that case?” 

He laughed. “What, you don’t like my style?”

“Bachelor chic? You’re about one step above a 20-something guy in Bushwick who has his mattress on the floor so that he’s closer to the Earth but the reality is that he has fifty dollars in his bank account so when he asks you on a date he takes you to his sweaty roof in July and plays shitty guitar music and tries to mansplain to you the difference between IPA and other beers.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow. “Tell me you haven’t actually met guys like that.” 

“Unfortunately, I’ve met every single kind of guy you could ever imagine.” 

“Well, if my options are Brooklyn douche or you redecorate, by all means Sunny, do whatever you’d like with the place. I’ll leave my credit card on the kitchen table.” 

You stood up and crossed the room. “No way. It’s on me. I want to do this for you. Make a nice house so one day you can have some lucky girl over and she won’t get the immediate ick when she sees that you still have gray sheets and brown towels.” 

“What’s wrong with gray sheets?” 

You shook your head. “Trust me, Bobby.” 

“Sure, honey,” he whispered. You took one step closer, wrapping your arms around him. Bob immediately folded you into an embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“I missed you so much,” you whispered. “Thank God you’re home safe.” 

“Were you worried about me, Sunny?” he asked quietly, his low voice rumbling.  

“I worry about you every fucking day,” you murmured into his chest. “When you’re flying and I don’t know where you are. When you’re on the ground somewhere far from wherever I am. All I can think about is the next time we’re going to talk. The next time I'll know for a fact that you’re safe. And then that call comes and I’m elated. But it has to end sometime, right? So when it ends, the second you hang up, I’m back to being worried about you.” 

Bob pulled away, his hands folded into yours. “You worry too much, Reid. I’m always gonna be here for you. Always have been.” 

How could he forget? There was a reason you were scared all the time. You had almost lost him to the skies once. 

You were living in San Francisco and Bob was stationed out of Lemoore. It was the closest the two of you had ever lived since you graduated, four years prior. 

That’s when you got the call. 

“Reid Coleman?” 

You sat up straight at your desk chair, looking out the window over Market Street. If you really craned your neck, you could see the Ferry Building. “This is.” 

“I regret to inform you that Lieutenant Robert Floyd has been in an accident. You were listed as his emergency contact.” 

“Oh my God,” you whispered, heart plummeting in your abdomen. “Is he OK?” 

“He’s sustained injuries, ma’am,” the person on the other end of the line said. 

You didn’t even register that the phone had fallen from your grasp until you heard it drop to the floor at your feet. You were out the door in a second, practically barreling down to the lobby of the building, fingers shaking as you tried to search for rental cars nearby. 

The three-and-a-half hour drive went by in an instant, and it was the longest car ride you had ever been on. Every single second all you could think of was the fact that Bob could have died out there. 

And that the last thing you might have said to him was that you hated him. 

By the time you arrived on base it was dark. You barreled through the hospital doors, panting as you made your way to the nurses station. “Robert Floyd?” you asked, panicked. 

“And you are?” 

“His emergency contact.” 

The nurse nodded. “Follow me.” 

You trailed after her down the hallway, the clacking of your high heels on the linoleum floor the only noise in the sterile hallway. 

She stopped in front of the door. “He’s intubated,” she warned you. “So he can’t speak.” 

You nodded and she opened the door. But you weren’t ready for what you saw. Bobby, lying there on the bed, with a thick clear tube sticking out of his throat and mouth, taped to his lips, the whirring sound of the machines as they kept him alive. The way he practically blended into the white linens of the bed he looked so pale and fragile. 

You collapsed onto a chair next to his bed, taking his hand, the one that didn’t have an IV in it, into yours, letting your salty tears fall onto his cold skin. 

“Bobby,” you whispered, voice thick with tears and pain. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, Bobby, come back to me.” 

He stayed in a coma for three days. You spent nearly every waking moment at his bedside, watching him with bated breath, waiting for some semblance of life to overtake him because the boy lying there in that hospital bed was not your best friend. He was a stranger. He didn't look or feel at all like the boy you had come to love over the last seven years.

And then, on the third day, you heard a familiar voice. 

“Sunny?” 

It was dry and scratchy. That morning the doctors had taken out the intubation and said he was awake, and you had rushed over from the hotel. There were tears in your eyes as you bolted through the doorway to where Bob was sitting up in bed, his glasses settled on his nose, a slow pinkness coming back to his rounded cheeks. 

You bent in half over the edge of the bed, sobs wracking your body, silent tears streaming down your face. Bob reached out one hand, softly patting your hair. “Honey, don’t cry.” 

You pulled away, looking up into his familiar blue eyes. He had looked so small before, and that had terrified you. He looked like himself again. Like the Bobby who had picked you up and carried you halfway across campus when you accidentally stepped on a rusted nail and had to go to the ER. He looked like the Bobby who had dared you to go into the caves in Vietnam even though you were terrified of small spaces. He looked like the Bobby that you loved with every cell in your body. 

He looked like your Bobby again. 

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered. 

“Never going to lose me, darlin’,” he murmured back. 

You sniffled, gripping his hand. 

Bob’s eyes widened after a moment. Then, “Wait. Where’s Denver?” 

You raised your eyes to him, unable to say it but knowing that they could convey what had happened without words, and watched as your best friend fell apart right in front of you. 

***

“OK Floyd, spill.” 

“Spill what?” Bob asked, tossing down a hand of cards. Payback laid his cards down. Two pair. He grabbed the pile of chips in the middle of the table and slid them closer, stacking them up with his own poker chips. 

“About Reid, Floyd,” Phoenix said, exasperated. “These two boneheads,” she pointed at Hangman and Rooster, “want to know if she’s fair game.” 

“Hey!” Coyote pouted. “So do I.” 

Bob shook his head as Fanboy dealt a new round of cards. “She’s not my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“So we can ask her out,” Hangman was practically salivating. “Cause she’s hot as fuck.” 

Bob raised his head and glared at the blond. Hangman put his hands up in a defensive maneuver. 

“Woah, chill Floyd.” 

“She already turned you down, Bagman,” Phoenix chimed in. 

“She didn’t turn down Rooster,” Payback pointed out. “Or should I call him Chicken Man.” 

All eyes turned to Bradley, who took a sip of his beer. Then, “Never said I was gonna ask her out.” 

Bob sighed, trading in three cards from the five card draw. “Sunny is an adult,” he said. “She can do whatever she wants. So Rooster, if you want to ask her out, you’re free to. It’s up to her if she says yes or not.” 

Bradley nodded, tossing out one card, waiting for Fanboy to deal him a replacement. “Maybe I will.” 

Bob pursed his lips, grabbing for his beer glass, taking a chug and then slamming it down. He didn’t realize how forceful he was until the glass shattered on impact in his hand, sending beer rushing over the table and down the sides. Everyone jumped up in a panic. 

“Shit, baby on board, what the fuck?” Hangman called as he rushed to grab a roll of paper towels. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob shook his head. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Come here,” Phoenix said, grabbing his arm and tugging him into the kitchen. She held his hand over the sink, pulling out a small splinter of glass from his palm, running the bloody hand under water. She doused it in soap and he winced at the sting. 

“Thanks,” Bob said as Phoenix wrapped his hand in a clean dish towel in Hangman’s kitchen. 

She looked up at him, knowingly. “You can say no to them, you know.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Phoenix sighed. “Yes you do. Reid. You don’t want those idiots to touch her.”

Bob grimaced. “She’s a big girl. If she wants to go out with them, she can.” 

“Just admit it,” Phoenix said. “She is more than just your best friend.” 

Bob’s blue eyes bore into hers. “Sunny is, and always will be, the love of my life. I’m just not hers.” 

***

You looked through the sliding glass door to where Bob was carefully peeling an orange at the kitchen table, his eyes glued on the TV hanging over the mantle. 

“Ms. Coleman, have you found a new physician in the San Diego area? If not, I can recommend one to you. But it’s imperative that you go in for new scans immediately.” 

You sighed. “I’m working on it.” 

“Ms. Coleman.” The voice on the other end of the line was hard. “This is no joking matter.” 

“Don’t you think I’m aware of that?” you hissed. 

“I’m going to email you a list of five physicians in the area.” 

“They’re going to say exactly what you said,” you whispered. 

“You need to get a second opinion. And either way, you need a local physician now that you’ve relocated.” 

“Fine,” you said. “Send me the names.” 

“Ms. Coleman?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Please make an appointment.” 

You clicked off the phone and slid open the door. Bob had moved to the couch, one arm slung over the low back. 

“Everything OK?” he asked. 

You nodded, walking around the edge of the couch and settling into the spot next to him. Without even thinking, you leaned into Bob’s side, letting his arm fall around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

“Sunny?” he asked softly. He read you like an open book. He could practically see the anxiety and tension radiating off of your skin. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered, looking up at him with a small smile before resting your head against his thigh, lifting your feet onto the other end of the couch, lying down so that Bob’s hand was now firmly pressed against the dip in your side where your ribcage ended. 

You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar smell, letting yourself relax, feeling your heart rate slow. 

“Everything is going to be fine,” you murmured.

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[gaybae1021]

Contemplation

Prev

[assume I also wrote an impactful argument between Garroth and Laurance and Laurance’s conversation with Vincent before Laurance finally comes back to Phoenix Drop for the night.]

*getting ready for bed*

G- We’re gonna be okay.

L- Huh?

G- Us. You and me and Aph. Today was…just a bad day. For all of us, I think. A-and once we’ve slept on it, we’ll figure it out.

L- Sure…you’re probably right…

G- …You know I love you right? Whatever happened when I was gone, that won’t change.

L- I…I know. I love you too…Do you want some tea?

G: Yeah, that’s sounds great.

*later in the night*

It made him sick to even think about. How could he even consider leaving? Aph was his best friend, his beacon of hope when everything was falling apart. And Garroth, Garroth was the love his life! Garroth had supported him through some of his darkest moments, been the one partner where Laurance could be himself. Not to mention his family, who had just gotten him back after ten years. Garroth and Aph had both just lost someone close to them. Now, more than anything, they needed to be able to rely on him, and on each other. And here he was, awake in bed, about to ruin it all.

He could stay. Snuff out the lamp and go to bed. Garroth wouldn’t know a thing, he’d just chalk it up to a particularly deep sleep. He could talk to Aph in the morning, tell her he hadn’t meant to blame her. Maybe they could find a compromise.

But Vincent was right. How long until his self control wasn’t enough? How long until he hurt someone close to him? Leaving now would hurt them, but if it meant keeping them safe from a worse pain, he’d do it in an instant.

He traced the engravings on the ring, like he had done most nights when Garroth wasn’t there. He’d think about how unfair it was. Of course Garroth’s proposal would get ruined by O’Khasis scheming. But he’d also have hope. Hope that Garroth would come back and things could go back to normal. That they could get engaged, have a wedding, maybe even kids.

Laurance felt his chest tighten, knowing now how much of a naive fantasy that was.

He carefully got out of bed and got dressed.

He considered leaving nothing. It would be easier for everyone to move on then. But if he didn’t, Garroth and Aph would just rationalize that he had been kidnapped or mind-controlled and needed their help. So he wrote something down as best as he could.

Hayden and Cadenza, your the only family Ive ever known. You gave me a home and a community. I wouldnt be the person I am today without you.

Aphra, Im sorry for what I said. You risked so much to help me when you barely even knew me. Ill never repay that kindness. You carry your duties so gracefully, sometimes it’s easy for me to forget the pressure you’re under. Your life is what you choose to do with it. Maybe when the girls get older you can tell them some stories about me?

Garroth,

He paused. There was too much to say, and yet none of it felt right. His hand shaking, he only managed two short sentences.

thank you, for everything. Please don’t let this hold you back.

I love you all.

Laurance

He set the ring on top of the note. Grabbing the oil lamp, he walked out the door, leaving the room dark.

[chibishortdeath]

Alright I’ve thought about it a bit, let’s rant about just how horrifying the curse Simon was afflicted with would be! Consider this like a part one of sorts for Simon’s Quest analysis stuff cause I could talk about this one game for hours on end—

I’m gonna put a cut here because warning ⚠️ descriptions of decay, gorey stuff, disease, and some pretty bad mental effects. Stay safe guys, don’t read further if you can’t handle those topics!

I’ve seen multiple different descriptions of it from different media and manuals, but, just from this little line alone, this is already a pretty awful fate for the guy. High emphasis on the word decay. That in itself can imply a lot of different things, sometimes all at once. And keep in mind too, he’s had this over the course of 7 years. Simon is probably already an absolute wreck from this wayyyyy before the game even starts.

First of all, getting hit on the back is a bad spot for any kind of infection or spreading disease (closest irl counterpart). That’s awfully close to a lot of vital things you don’t want something spreading to including the spine, lungs, heart, etc etc. Especially for deeper cuts because we’re talking Dracula level injury here, not like a paper cut or something. Hell, too deep of a hit on the back might cause some nerve damage, not to the extent of paralysis in his case, but general chronic pain from a wound that won’t heal properly is uhhh… not great. :( I’ve also seen some media say that the curse causes wounds to not heal, bleeding, the American manual even mentions it effecting the soul, awful stuff. I generally like to think “Bloody Tears” is referring to Simon tbh.

Another thing, with afflictions that cause decay generally the smaller appendages start getting hit hard with it first. It’s the same way for a lot of other conditions; fingers, toes, earlobes, anything protruding like that because the body considers them lowest priority in a survival situation like that and it wouldn’t kill you to lose them. Necrosis especially has things start turning ruddy colors, blacken, and start forming holes in the layers of skin (@ @ ;). Obviously this alone is excruciating. Poor dude has to walk for days on end like that…

And slowly deteriorating could also imply some form of wasting. Fats usually go first, then muscle, which is also very not good when you’ve gotta beat the clock to survive. Scary thing is that the brain is like 60% fats and not immune to any of this whoops—

Something I don’t really see anyone consider very often when talking about the curse (not that I’ve seen many people talk about this 💀) is how absolutely mentally fucked up Simon would be from it. Just the terror of knowing you’re slowly rotting to death would be enough to drive most people into some kind of despair or panic, but seeing and feeling all the gruesome details of it is even worse. Being in constant pain and stress isn’t good for anyone, especially someone who is already weakened from illness. But the sheer mental deterioration this guy would be having from the decay itself oh my god (0_o ). Looking up widespread brain shrinkage like that and uh some of the early signs are already stuff like seizures and extreme headaches. Add the fact that he doesn’t really sleep much for upwards of 7 days and it’d be an absolute miracle if this guy wasn’t hallucinating and/or completely hysterical by this point among other things. I mean, no wonder so much of this game is running around lost and confused, not only are people lying to his face, Simon is probably just barely keeping his shit together the whole time.

So just imagine for a second all of these things combined. No wonder people were terrified of him, he probably genuinely looked like a corpse. Eeeee yikes yikes ouch, poor guy :’’’’’(.

Anyway, Konami where is my horror focused Simon’s Quest remake you cowards—

[bluejaysandblackbats]

It Takes A Village

Fandom: YJ98, Flashfam, DC Comics

Summary: After witnessing Bart murder someone, his friends scramble to cover Bart's tracks and stumble upon an international scandal as a result.

(Minor background: Bart took a gap year, and Conner did two years of community college. This starts shortly after Bart's 19th birthday. So, Conner and Jenni are 20, Bart and Cissie are 19, Tim and Cassie are 18, I made Greta 17 for the sake of the fic, and Judy is 15. I decided to make Owen 22 and Thad 16 for plot reasons. Clark and Conner are brothers in this fic, and Clark is 12 years older for the sake of this fic, so he's 32.)

Chapters: 10/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Conner Kent, Judy Garrick, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Cissie King-Jones, Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Greta Hayes, Jenni Ognats, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Meloni Thawne, Clark Kent, Wally West, Linda Park, Courtney Whitmore, President Thawne

Relationship(s): KonBart, CissieCassie, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Serial Killer AU, No Powers AU, Angst, Dark Comedy, Bart Allen Kills in This Fic, Minor Thad Thawne, Separated in Childhood, Some Smut in This

Chapter Ten: Ill

After the fight, Bart’s fever spiked, and he tried to say goodnight to rush to the parking garage. Grant and Grant’s friend Tommy and Tommy’s friend Dinah and Tommy’s father, Ted… They all wanted to talk. His line of vision thinned out and his stomach dropped as he continued to nod and smile. He couldn’t muster the energy to speak. “Oh man, I forgot… Bart’s got work tomorrow. We gotta go,” Grant stated. Bart nodded, smiling at everyone, mouthing goodnight but not managing a sound. 

They nearly made it to the garage when Bart got tunnel vision, and his ears started ringing. He grabbed Grant’s arm in a last-ditch effort to keep his balance, but his eyes rolled back, his knees buckled, and if it hadn’t been for Grant’s quick thinking, he would’ve landed on his face. 

**

Bart woke up in the hospital, groggy and speechless as he reached for his IV. Grant stopped him. “Hey, buddy… Let’s not do that. We’re in the emergency room. You took a little spill, and they want you to stay until your temperature—.” 

“No… I have to go home. They’re gonna call my grandparents,” Bart mumbled, “I don’t want my—.” 

Grant shook his head. Bart sank into the bed, too weak to move. “Bart, they called your grandpa a couple of minutes ago. Bart, why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I would’ve understood,” Grant frowned. Bart shut his eyes. 

“I have to call my grandpa… I have to—. I don’t want him to come here,” Bart mumbled as he opened his eyes and reached into his pocket to grab his phone. 

He called Barry because he was scared to call Iris. “Bart! Hey, are you okay? We just got a call saying you passed out,” Barry panted over the phone. 

“Grandpa, you don’t have to come out this way. I’ll be out of the hospital before you get here—.” 

“Bart, what happened?” Barry asked. 

Bart didn’t want Iris to come to the hospital. It would’ve reminded him of the observatory. It would’ve made everything worse. “Grandpa, I can hear you moving around. Just stop for a minute,” Bart pleaded in Interlac. He rarely used it with Barry because the language sounded strange on Barry’s tongue. With Iris, he dropped the veil and spoke in mostly Interlac. It rolled off their tongues naturally, leaving Bart the space to say everything he wanted as fast as it came to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Barry asked. 

“Nothing… I’m sick and bit off a little more than I could chew today. I’m fine. I’ll stay home for a few days after I sign myself out—.”

“Bart, if you don’t want us to come down there, you’ve gotta promise to stay until they discharge you,” Barry whispered. Bart shut his eyes. 

“Fine… And Grandpa, can I ask you a quick question?” Bart asked. He softened, hoping Barry could answer something for him. 

“Ask away,” Barry whispered. 

“When you found out Grandma and I were alive—. Grandpa, did Grandma ever tell you what happened to her when she wasn’t with me?” Bart questioned. He felt a sick pit in his stomach as the words left his mouth. 

“Not much. She said she did what she had to to get you out of there. I don’t think she wants us to know… I try to respect that,” Barry answered. Bart sighed. “I know… Get some rest. Keep us posted. I love you, Pup.”

“Love you too, Grandpa. And goodnight just in case I fall asleep and forget to text you later,” Bart whispered. They hung up, and Bart pressed his palms against his eyelids.

“You okay, Bart?” Grant asked. Bart nodded. 

“Did it look bad?” Bart asked. 

“Your nose started bleeding and you threw up in the ambulance. It looked like coffee grounds—.” 

“Shit. Don’t worry. I’m taking something for that… Thanks for staying with me,” Bart smiled, “But I’ll be okay if you have to leave. I’ll call Cissie and tell her after—.” 

“Bart, is something going on that you don’t want me to know about?” Grant asked. Bart shook his head. 

“I just don’t like people to make a fuss over my health. I’m gonna be fine. I promised my grandparents that I’ll stay until the hospital discharges me, so you don’t have to worry about—.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be… And I’m not making a fuss. I’m hanging out with a friend. You know… That’s the first time I’ve heard you speak anything other than English,” Grant noted. 

“I feel like I’m never saying the right thing in English. I’ve never been one for nuance,” Bart half-joked. 

“I think you’ve gotten the hang of it. There’s a lot of distance between what you’re saying and what you’re thinking now. I know that for sure… Listen, I know you didn’t have it easy. You bounced around a lot, too… And I know we don’t have the same experiences, but I can’t help but feel like you’re trying to mask something. Some kind of—. I don’t know. You’re masking some sort of trauma,” Grant observed. It made Bart feel exposed and naked. 

“Grant, you’re getting dangerously close to something that’s none of your—.” 

“Bart, I’m not trying to hurt you… I think you’re hurting yourself. I want you to know there are places for you to talk to people about what’s going on that aren’t like—. Places that aren’t traditional talk therapy. Your stress is killing you. I’ve never known you to be sick before, and you can’t honestly tell me you came down with—.” 

“Grant, stop. Stop, okay?” Bart interrupted as he tried to close his eyes and go to sleep. 

“Okay. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Grant replied. 

**

Bart’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he shifted uncomfortably as he reached in his pocket for it. His headache subsided. He answered his phone without looking. “Cissie called and said they kept you overnight at the hospital. She told your job you wouldn’t be in for a few days, and I’m on my way to the—.”

“Tim?” Bart questioned, still confused. 

“Cissie asked me to come early to make sure you don’t land yourself in the hospital again. Besides, we can listen to Creachur King and Late Night Licks when they drop,” Tim replied. 

“Late Night Licks is back?” Bart asked. 

“Who listens to Late Night Licks?” Grant asked, half-asleep with his eyes shut. He lay over Bart’s lap. 

“My friend, Tim. If you’re in town, you can listen to the new episode with us. I’ve been meaning to introduce you two to each other. Tim, would you mind if Grant listened with us?” Bart asked. 

“I wouldn’t mind. Cissie told me Grant wanted to stay a night or two. I heard they’re having a celebrity do a voiceover for the premier’s story of the week along with an interview,” Tim replied, “I gotta get back on the road, but I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

“Alright��� I’m gonna get some more sleep. Wake me up when you get here,” Bart whispered before hanging up. He fell asleep with his phone on his chest, and Grant sat up. 

**

Grant, Tim, and Bart squeezed together in the queen-sized bottom bunk, listening to Late Night Licks through their headphones using a splitter. Bart started to nod off before sirens startled him awake. He ripped his headphones out and gave Tim the laptop before climbing over Grant to go to the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later to grab a bag of gummies from his drawer, and he ate three. “What’s that?” Grant asked. 

“You don’t want one,” Tim answered without looking. Grant’s eyes widened. “Yeah.” 

Bart nodded. “He’s right,” Bart replied as he put his headphones on to finish the episode. A few minutes before it ended, Bart let his head tilt back, feeling heavy and weightless at the same time. He shut his eyes, gently clearing his throat. He opened his eyes, turning toward the door. “Bart?” Grant whispered. Bart climbed over Grant. “Where are you headed?” 

“The shower,” Bart mumbled as he took his phone with him. 

Bart soaked in the tub, shutting his eyes as he scrubbed his skin. He leaned back into the water, letting it cover his face, and he ran a hand through his hair. The sponge in his hand lightly brushed his forehead, and he groaned. He took the sponge and ran it down the underside of his left arm. He couldn’t hold onto a single thought as it came to him, so he honed in on the sensations that felt the best. He ran the sponge down the center of his chest, past his waistline, and he shut his eyes, absentmindedly touching and squeezing. Sweat dripped down his temple as he took his other hand, cupping the underside of his balls as they twitched in his palm. He groaned long, low, and drawn out from the back of his throat as he came into the tub. He let the water drain and stood still, watching until it was gone before turning the shower on. 

He got out once he started shivering, and he dressed before calling Conner. “Bart, hey. How are you?” Conner asked. “Do you feel a little better?” 

“I love you,” Bart whispered, still half out of it. “I’m okay. I’m a little high right now, but I—. I—. Playing with your hair and—. The little bit of hair above your waistline—. What’s that called?” 

Conner laughed over the phone. “ A snail trail? ” Conner asked. 

“Mhm… I like that. And I like the way you sound when you wake up and—. Conner, I like you. Everything about you. You’re perfect to me,” Bart whispered. Conner made a noise over the phone. 

“I like you and love you too, Bart… Try to get some rest tonight—.”

“I want to hear about your day,” Bart interrupted as he draped himself across the couch, wrapping himself in a blanket. “I want to hear your voice.”

“Okay… Well, this morning I had french toast and bacon in the cafeteria. Then, I walked to class and Cassie took me to her gym. I like her gym better than mine because the girls there like to recommend songs to each other, and a couple of them brought their boyfriends who were super cool… And Clark invited us out for milkshakes at this new place. Lois ordered for everyone, and I had a strawberry milkshake with collagen in it. That was pretty cool,” Conner took a deep breath, “And I’m on lunch right now at work… But I get off at three in the morning. If you get up late tonight, you can text me. I’ll probably be up.”

“Sounds good… Thank you for talking to me about your day. You don’t know how much it helps,” Bart whispered. 

“Of course. Thank you for asking about my day. If we don’t talk tonight, I want to talk to you about your day tomorrow,” Conner whispered. 

“Okay… Talk to you soon,” Bart mumbled. 

“Okay. Bye, baby,” Conner replied before hanging up. Cissie came in the front door and frowned. 

“Bart, why is your hair wet?” Cissie asked. She grabbed a towel from her room and dried him off. “Tim and Grant were supposed to be—.” Cissie sighed, and Bart looked up with a big smile on his face. “What?”

“Give me a hug. I missed you,” Bart whispered. Cissie softened, sat down, and wrapped her arms around him. “I had a good day…”

“Did you smoke today?” Cissie asked. Bart shook his head. 

“Gummies,” Bart replied. Cissie chuckled. 

“Oh, nice… I had a good day, too,” Cissie replied. Bart lit up.

“Tell me all about it,” Bart requested with gentle enthusiasm. 

Cissie sank into the couch beside Bart, relaxing her shoulders, and she glanced at him. “Oh, I crushed it in class today. We had a comprehension check this morning, and I was so ready for it. Then, I—. Oh, I got you something,” Cissie answered as she reached into her pocket and gave Bart a little bottle of juice. “I got it at the juice bar down the street. It’s a wellness shot. I got it for like seventy percent off because they were about to close… And they were gonna toss it.” 

Bart opened the bottle and downed it without a word, and he turned to her with a sour expression. “I see why it’s a shot… Thanks, Cissie. Did you get something for yourself?” Bart questioned with his eyes closed. He lay over her lap, reached for the remote, and turned the TV on without looking. 

Cissie took the remote and turned the news on. “I did. I got myself a celery juice—.” Bart heard someone on the TV speaking his language, and he sat up. “Oh god, Bart. Isn’t that awful? They say he was in there a while before they found him,” Cissie replied. Bart kissed her temple and returned to his room, leaving Cissie perplexed.

**

When Bart was well enough, he started spending all his free time at the park on jogs. Three days. Watching and waiting. He marked the time on his skin with lipstick. Easy to wash off. The times varied. So, his afternoon jogs proved to be equally fruitful. Dr. Eric Donnovan. From the park, Bart found his car. From the car, Bart found his opening. Eric Donnovan always parked in a secluded area. It was usually within a two-block radius of the park and hidden well enough that Bart could be alone for as long as he needed. 

Bart read more about him in some of the other files when he could stomach looking at them. He couldn’t bear to read Thad’s, so he read the others. Dr. Eric Donnovan botched more medical procedures than he successfully completed, which led Bart to believe he was harming children on purpose. The desire to kill him led Bart down a rabbit hole of vengeful gestures. He wanted to kill Donnovan so much that it made him sick inside. It twisted his stomach into knots and he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking of all the ways he could harm him. He couldn’t do it within the first two weeks, but he knew the third week… The third week, when he went to visit Conner, he’d have the opportunity to do it. He couldn’t visit Conner the first week because he was still too tired to drive, so Conner visited the following week.

**

Conner kissed Bart’s neck, reaching up Bart’s shirt. “I missed you last week. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Conner whispered between kisses. Bart seemed limp and uninvolved. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Bart whispered. Conner stopped and sat beside Bart, waiting patiently for an explanation or a description of Bart’s feelings. 

“Are you okay?” Conner asked. 

“I think I’m distracted… I can’t get my head right,” Bart mumbled, “I’m sorry.” Conner smiled. 

“Don’t feel bad… We could actually watch the movie we put on,” Conner offered. Bart looked at Conner’s sad eyes and something in him cracked. He couldn’t tell Conner everything, but he figured it wouldn’t kill him to tell Conner a little bit. 

Bart leaned over and grabbed his file from the drawer. “Conner, I want to—. You have to promise not to tell anyone if I show you this,” Bart whispered. 

“I promise,” Conner answered. 

Bart opened the file and took out a set of pictures. “Remember how I said these were my medical records? I wasn’t lying, but—. This was—. Look,” Bart stammered. He showed Conner a picture of a doctor forcing a mask over his mouth and nose while nurses held him down. He was careful to show the pictures that didn’t clearly show the doctors’ faces. Conner looked despite everything in his body screaming for him to look away. He swallowed hard as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Some of the procedures were normal but most of them were experiments to see how much I could take mentally. My pain tolerance. How long I could go without sleep. It was—. Effectively it was torture. I never hugged anyone. I never held hands. Behind glass... I never knew what my grandma smelled like.” 

“Bart,” Conner whispered, “This is what you—. No one would ever know you came from this.”

“That’s why I’m not always responsive. I’m—. I know it’s not normal now, but I—. Moving here, I didn’t know how anything worked. I didn’t know—. It’s so hard to reach out sometimes because I feel like it’s easier not to show anything, but—. I want you to know me. 

“I want you to understand that even if it isn’t comparable to anyone else’s emotions, I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. I want you, and I need you. I want you to need me, too. This isn’t to make you pity me. This is so you know, I came from a place where I wasn’t allowed to experience love in its purest form, and I love you despite everything I was taught. I was taught not to love or connect, and I love you now,” Bart explained. Conner kissed Bart’s cheek. 

“Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you for trusting me… I—. Bart, I’m sorry for crying at this,” Conner smiled. Bart put his file away, turned to him, and wiped Conner’s cheeks. 

“Thank you for all the love you’ve shown me… And thank you for showing me what patience and humanity look like,” Bart answered. They kissed. His lips kept finding Conner’s, never truly finding air until Conner pulled away. 

“Do you want to watch a stupid movie?” Conner asked. 

“Let’s squeeze into Cissie’s bed and force her to watch something dumb,” Bart smiled. 

Conner paused, looking deep into Bart, and Bart froze, wondering if Conner found something he didn’t like. But Conner smiled, gently kissing his forehead. “You’re safe now,” Conner reassured. The word safe echoed in Bart’s head, and he smiled, trying to shake it off. “No one’s going to hurt you anymore—.” 

Hurt. Conner acknowledged the part that no one else seemed to. The hurt. It wasn’t the lack of safety. It was the fact that people hurt him and his parents and his aunt and uncle. It all hurt, and Conner understood that. Bart lay down, pulling Conner down beside him. Killing for Bart was his only way of returning that hurt to the senders. He hid his face in Conner’s shirt. “I changed my mind. Let’s stay here,” Bart mumbled. Conner nodded as he held Bart close.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod From Asgard - Steve Rogers x Reader (Part 72)

A/N: I’m just gonna apologise ahead of this whole section of the story, I tried to delay it as much as possible but we’re here now...

Summary: A simple mission and check in turns into something much worse when Steve recieves a call from Bruce

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Canon Typical Violence! Infinity War Plot!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 72: We Don’t Trade Lives

You were just feeding JJ lunch when you heard a pounding on the door. You frown watching as Steve got up from the table walking over to the apartment door. He had barely opened the door when a very pissed-off Nat stormed into your apartment.

“Whoa, what’s wrong Nat?” Steve asks as she comes to a stop.

“Wanda missed her check-in again, a whole week late! and we’re supposed to be stopping an arms deal but now we’re a man short” Nat explains with an irritated huff.

“I’m sure she has a good reason, we’d know if she was in trouble,” you say trying to placate her.

“What about the mission? I don’t think me and Sam can handle it” Nat sighs shaking her head.

“Steve?” You ask looking over at him.

“Yeah I can help, and we can go check in on Wanda at the same time” Steve agrees nodding his head.

“Thanks, Steve I really appreciate it, it’s a simple mission really we should be home by tomorrow morning” Nat sighs appreciatively.

“give me a few minutes to get changed and we’ll head straight out” Steve nods heading off to change.

JJ then lets out an annoyed huff letting you know he wasn’t impressed by the delay in food.

“Sorry bean” you smile feeding him another mouthful.

“How is he? Steve said he was a little ill last week?” Nat asks walking over.

“he’s good now it was just the sniffles, only lasted a day” you sigh looking over at JJ, feeding him another mouthful.

“That’s good, straight back to playing” Nat smiles as Steve steps out of the bedroom now in his suit.

“I’ll go let Sam know and meet you by the jet,” Nat says as she heads out.

Steve nods as he adjusts his sleeves, as he glances over at you he catches you looking at him with a concerned look on your face. He furrows his brows as he walks over putting a hand on your shoulder.

“hey is everything okay?” he asks gently making you sigh.

“yeah just got a funny feeling that’s all, but I’m sure it's nothing to worry about,” you say waving it off.

“as long as you’re sure, I’ll be back soon,” Steve says bending down to kiss you.

“Yeah I’m sure, just stay safe out there, don’t do anything stupid,” you tell him taking his hand.

“of course, I have Sam and Nat to keep me in check” Steve smirks making you chuckle weakly.

“I mean it Steve” you sigh shaking your head.

“I will I promise, when you wake up tomorrow I’ll be home back in one piece” Steve smiles reassuringly.

“see you later bean, be a good boy for mama,” Steve says bending down to kiss the top of his head.

“Mama” JJ nods in agreement making you smile.

“see you tomorrow” Steve smiles kissing you once more.

“see you tomorrow” you smile keeping hold of his hand until he stepped away and it slipped from your grip.

A couple of hours later on the jet Steve, Nat and Sam were planning the details of the mission, looking down at the schematic of the ship they were going to intercept.

“The ship is departing Calais at 9 pm local time and due to arrive in Dover just after 10 pm, our best bet is to intercept it while it's crossing the channel, preferably on the midpoint so if there are any issues the UK and France will be too busy arguing over who should deal with it to actually deal with it,” Nat says pointing at the map.

“we’ll have to strike quickly then” Steve comments crossing his arms over his chest as he rubs his beard.

“I can swoop in and take out the guards on the top deck” Sam suggests.

“me and Nat can then work our way through the rest inside before-“ Steve says getting interrupted by a phone ringing.

Frowning he turns around to where his pack was, walking over he found the phone that was ringing realising it was the one Tony could call. He takes a deep breath glancing over at Sam and Nat before picking up.

“Tony” Steve greets as the line connects.

“um hi Steve, it’s Bruce actually,” Bruce says making Steve frown in confusion.

“Banner?” Steve asks surprised, instantly grabbing the attention on Nat.

“yeah hi, um Tony told me you guys weren’t exactly speaking and I don’t know what happened but we need you,” Bruce tells him.

“what’s happened?” Steve asks as he puts the phone on speaker so Nat and Sam could hear too.

“There’s a lot going on, I don’t think I could explain everything over the phone, but Thanos is coming and he’s gonna be looking for Vision, specifically the stone, Tony said you might know where he is” Bruce explains, Steve sighs glancing over at Nat and Sam.

“yeah we do, or we think we do,” Sam tells him.

“good, I’m gonna head to the tower, I’ll see you guys maybe,” Bruce says.

“The Avengers are based at the compound upstate now, get Tony or Happy to give you directions” Steve explains.

“oh right okay, sure thanks Steve,” Bruce says as he hangs up.

Steve sighs picking up the phone and flipping it over in his hand as he thought. His mind instantly went to you and JJ at home. The feeling you had was right, he just hoped this wasn’t as bad as he feared. The fear in Bruce’s voice told him otherwise.

“Change the coordinates, we need to go straight to Edinburgh,” Steve says looking over at Sam.

“On it,” Sam says moving over to the pilot seat.

“you okay?” Nat says gently grabbing Steve’s attention.

“hm? yeah, what about you? with Bruce reappearing and everything?” Steve asks looking over at her.

“Time is a great healer” Nat sighs quietly glancing over at Sam quickly.

“We should be there within the hour” Sam calls out from the pilot seat.

“Great, hopefully, we’ll get there quick enough to avoid a fight but prepare just in case,” Steve says moving towards his pack to prepare.

As he does so he pulls out the photo he always kept in his pack. It was a picture of you and JJ from just a couple of days after he was born. Even though you were exhausted your eyes still shined and your smile was just as bright as you looked into the camera. Steve could hear your laughter as clear as day as you told him to stop. He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled that day, he folded up the photo sliding it into his pocket to keep you and JJ close to him.

An hour later the jet was flying over Edinburgh trying to locate somewhere to land so the team could start looking for Wanda and Vision. Nat was just suggesting somewhere when the sight of Visions beam shot through the sky.

“Found them” Sam mutters.

“Looks like company beat us here” Nat sighs glancing over at Steve.

“they’re heading towards the station, get as close as you can, drop me off and then join in once you’ve landed,” Steve says walking towards the back of the jet.

“don’t do anything stupid Steve” Nat calls out as Steve opens the jet doors.

“sure” Steve calls back before jumping out of the jet.

He lands on the roof of the station, spotting Wanda and Vision inside, Wanda about to face off against two aliens. Steve slides open one of the windows before dropping down to the station platform below. As he lands a train speeds past, blaring its horn.

Once the train was gone Steve got his first good look at the two aliens, one female, one male. The female growls when she spots him, throwing her trident-like spear at him. Steve easily sides steps grabbing the spear. She looks back at him surprised, both aliens distracted enough for Sam and Nat to attack. Sam flew in to tackle the female into a nearby shop before shooting missiles at the male one. Steve spots Nat running over, throwing her the spear which she uses to trip and stab the male in the gut.

Steve runs over when he sees the female getting to her feet, recalling her spear out of Nat’s hand. Steve rolls picking up the male’s staff and using it to block the female’s attack. He pushes her spear upwards before hitting her in the side with the staff. The female twists moving to attack Nat but she dodges them easily.

Steve and Nat attack the female from both sides leaving her no room to attack back. Sam then flies in kicking the female to the floor next to her fallen counterpart. She checks over the male as the three of them block their exits.

“Get up” the female growls.

“I can’t” the male groans clutching his gut.

“We don’t wanna kill you, but we will,” Nat tells them as the female looks up at them.

“you’ll never get the chance again” the female scoffs, she hits a button her wrist suddenly being beamed up to the sky.

Steve looks up watching them go when the staff he’d used was ripped out of his hand following after the aliens. Steve frowns looking up at the sky, not impressed his new weapon was taken from him. He sighs turning to see Wanda crouching beside an injured Vision at the side of the station.

“Can you stand?” Sam asks as they walk over, bending down to help Vision up.

“thank you captain” Vision breathes, the tech within him visibly failing.

“let’s get you on the jet,” Steve says with a small nod.

Once on the jet, they set Vision down in one of the seats, Sam moving to the pilot seat firing up the jet as Nat closes the door.

“Now I thought we had a deal, stay close, check in don’t take any chances” Nat states turning around to face Wanda.

“I’m sorry, we just wanted some more time” Wanda apologises quietly as Nat storms past Steve to sit down.

“where to cap?” Sam asks.

Steve sighs deeply before glancing around the jet the remnants of Stark and Avengers Tech all around “Home”

Steve stood at the front of the jet watching as the Avengers compound came into view. There were a couple more buildings than there was last time, at the same time it also seemed quieter, almost like a ghost town. He guessed in a way it was, there were no Avengers walking the halls anymore. He felt a strange sense of relief at being home, the familiarity calming his nerves. He just wished you were beside him to experience it too. Hopefully, after all this, you’d be able to though, you could raise JJ the way you always wanted to.

Walking through the compound they found Rhodey in one of the labs talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. As soon as Steve lay eyes on the man he felt his blood boil, it was Ross’ fault you were in the raft, his fault you got tortured. While the guard was now rotting in a Wakandan prison, that didn’t mean Steve would pass up the opportunity to punch Ross square in the face. He had to keep his cool though, he had more pressing matters to deal with. Plus, Ross was just a hologram, Steve couldn’t actually punch him, not yet anyway.

“Mr Secretary” Steve greet coldly.

“You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that,” Ross says as he walks closer.

“You could use some of that right now” Nat points out.

“The world’s on fire, and you think all is forgiven?” Ross asks looking over at Steve.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness, I don’t think I could give it either” Steve states glaring at Ross, noticing the hesitation.

“But I’m way past asking permission, earth just lost her best defender so we’re here to fight” Steve continues taking a step closer.

“And if you wanna stand in our way… we’ll fight you too” Steve warns, smirking slightly when he saw Ross gulp nervously.

Ross takes a large step back turning around to face Rhodey “Arrest them” he orders.

“All over it” Rhodey sighs turning off the hologram “that’s a court-martial, it’s great to see you cap” he smiles holding out his hand.

“You too Rhodey” Steve smiles stepping forward to shake his hand.

“hey,” Rhodey smiles hugging Nat “wow you guys look really look like crap, must have been a rough couple of years” he comments as he looks around at everyone.

“yeah, well the hotels weren’t exactly five-star” Sam smirks.

“I uh think you guys look great,” Bruce says grabbing everyone’s attention as he walks in “uh, yeah I’m back”

“Hi Bruce,” Nat says with a small smile.

“Nat” Bruce greets nervously.

“This is awkward” Sam mutters under his breath.

“I think it’s time to hear the whole story,” Steve says looking over at Bruce who nods his head sadly.

“sure” Bruce sighs as they walk into the common room off to the side.

“Okay, so Thanos is the big bad, he’s been the one pulling all the strings, he sent Loki to earth after the tesseract, I was with Thor and Loki escaping Asgard when he attacked our ship” Bruce begins making Steve furrow his brows in confusion, he thought Loki was dead, and why would they be fleeing Asgard?

“His plan is to collect the infinity stones, he already has the space and power stone, he sent some of his children to New York to collect the time stone” Bruce continues beginning to pace back and forth.

“He sent a couple to get the mind stone too,” Sam says as Rhodey pulls up a hologram of the aliens attacking vision.

“yes, but they didn’t succeed, so right now we know for certain that his missing at least one” Bruce nods.

“what’s his plan once he gets them all?” Steve asks resting his hands on his belt.

“wipe out half the universe, to bring order and balance to the universe” Bruce sighs, silence falls in the room as everyone lets the information sink in.

“So we gotta assume they’re coming back right?” Rhodey asks as he looks at the hologram.

“And they can clearly find us” Wanda points out running her fingers over her lips anxiously.

“We need all hands on deck, where’s Clint? And Y/N?” Bruce asks glancing around.

“Y/N’s back at base looking after a- um recruit,” Nat says glancing over at Steve “and after the whole accords situation, he and Scott took a deal, it was too tough on their families, they’re on house arrest”

“who’s Scott?” Bruce asks confused.

“Ant-man” Steve answers.

“There’s an Ant-man and a Spider-man?” Bruce asks surprised, Steve just shrugs his shoulders unable to provide a good answer.

“Okay look, Thanos has the biggest army in the universe, and he is not gonna stop until he gets… Vision’s stone” Bruce says glancing awkwardly over at Vision.

“then we have to protect it,” Nat says before Vision interrupts.

“no we have to destroy it” he sighs.

“I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature, but also its composition” he continues turning to Wanda “if exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source something similar to its own signature perhaps, its molecular integrity could fail”

“yeah and you with it,” Wanda says her voice shaking slightly “we’re not having this conversation”

“Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can’t get it,” Vision tells her.

“that’s too high a price,” Wanda says shaking her head.

“Only you have the power to pay it,” Vision tells her, cupping her cheeks soothingly.

Steve watches as Wanda turns and walks away from Vision. He drops his head sadly trying to work out a different solution but he was drawing a blank. He could understand Wanda’s hesitancy, if it was you asking him to do the same he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He’d rather fight a thousand aliens than risk losing you.

“Thanos threatens half the universe, one life shouldn’t stand in the way of defeating him” Vision presses.

“but it should” Steve sighs interrupting “we don’t trade lives Vision”

“Captain, 70 years ago you laid down your life to save how many millions of people. Tell me, why is this any different?” Vision says walking over to him.

“Because you might have a choice” Bruce interrupts “your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays, JARVIS, Vision, Tony, me, the stone, all of them mixed together all of them learning from one another”

“you’re saying Vision isn’t just the stone?” Wanda asks.

“I’m saying that if we take out the stone, there’s still a whole lot of Vision left, perhaps the best parts” Bruce explains.

“Can we do that?” Nat questions, her brows furrowed.

“Not me, not here” Bruce sighs shaking his head.

“Well, you better find someone and somewhere fast, Ross isn’t just gonna let you have your old rooms back” Rhodey points out.

Steve sighs pulling out the photo he kept of you and JJ back in Wakanda, the one place Steve knew might have a chance of removing the stone. It came with risks though, it would bring the fight closer to you and JJ which is the last thing Steve wanted. But if he didn’t get the stone out and destroyed it wouldn’t matter where you and JJ were.

“I know somewhere” Steve sighs glancing around and looking over at Nat who nods her head.

“Great where?” Bruce sighs in relief.

“Wakanda” Steve answers.

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Series Masterlist / Masterlist

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[urlocalmentallyunstablegal]

long rant incoming, i’ll be talking abt therapy, ed relapse mainly (i may get side tracked lol) really just talking to myself publicly.

so, my therapist is taking a break and i haven’t seen her since last month. she told me to text her if i need support or if i’m in crisis but we all know i’m not gonna do it bc i don’t wanna bother her. last month i managed to reach 3 months without counting calories and stepping on the scale. honestly i was so proud of myself for this. ofc i gained weight but i was finally healthier, i was not just a shell of a human being. i was actually alive. but since i stopped restricting my anxiety become terrible to the point where i can’t go out by myself without headphones. i started getting more frequent panic attacks (which are honestly both physically and mentally draining). i feel like im trapped in a cycle - i manage my depression and anxiety, then i relapse in my ed, i work on my ed, my anxiety gets worse, i use all kinds of relief techniques, nothing helps, so i relapse again to numb my emotions. the day of my last therapy session i had to go to my hometown bc we had to do some renovations for the apartment we’re giving out for rent. we had to stay in a family friend’s house. i love her but she’s just so insensitive to me and my struggles. like she’d constantly say things like “oh your hygiene is terrible” “oh are you really eating this”. of course she had to make comments about my body and how i’ve gained weight, she also asked what happened with the diets i was doing. while we were there we met with my dad’s aunt and she also made comments about my body and how i’ve gained weight. and the thing is i was having pretty bad time with my body without all these comments from my relatives. i genuinely felt so uncomfortable about the weight gain. the day after we got back home i relapsed. i’m counting calories again, i’m avoiding high cal foods, fear foods start to appear again. i was in denial about my relapse but now i have to admit it - i’m relapsing and i hate myself even more. i genuinely feel like i’m such a failure. i’ve spent over 2 years in therapy and it’s all the same cycle over and over. i’m forever grateful for my current therapist bc she saved me from the darkest times of my life. i was actively suicidal and she was the only one who agreed to work with me despite my resistance to get better. i don’t remember much of this time period but she has told me that she was worrying about me in between sessions and every time i was 5 mins late she thought of the worse situation possible. anyways. now i just feel like i’m wasting my time and her time. what am i even doing? will things ever get better? and the thing is i want to recover at some point. this lifestyle is not sustainable. the health complications are not a joke. i’ve ruined so many relationships bc of my mental illness. i’m missing out on so many things. but i’m just terrified of letting it all go. i can’t deal with the weight gain. i can’t deal with all the emotions. what’s the point of even trying to recover when i’ll always end up in the exact same shitty situation?

[katb357]

Falling for Hogan’s Heroes

25. Tears: The Secret

Peter was shivering. He was also burning up. Andrew wrapped the blanket around him and stroked his hair the way his own mom used to do when he was sick as a little kid. “We’re gonna get you back home, Newkirk,” he murmured. Well… not home, but as close as they had to it these days anyway. He saw the bruise darkening on the side of Newkirk’s face. That one was pretty new, he thought. There were other older bruises there. He’d been in Gestapo hands for at least a few days before the crew was able to get him out. Clearly, they had not been kind. “Damn, Peter. How’d you get yourself into that mess anyhow?” he breathed out.

“Gotta smoke, mate?” Peter’s eyes were glassy, but somehow they were flat and lifeless as well. Interrogations will do that to a man.

“Sure.” Wilson would have his ass for it, but Carter wasn’t about to deny him any comfort he could give. He pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and gave one to Peter. Then he offered a light.

Hogan glanced back, trying not to stare as Andrew had to hold the cigarette in order for Peter to take a drag. His hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t hold it himself. Hogan’s gut clenched as he remembered the fact that this whole thing was his fault. Newkirk hadn’t wanted to go on the mission. Hogan had volunteered him to go. And now look at him. Another piece of Hogan’s soul began to tear away.

When they got close to the Stalag and had to ditch the car, Andrew helped Peter out. He kept an arm around him. Kinch got hold of him on the other side, and together they helped him to the stump entrance and guided him down the ladder. Then Andrew ran to fetch Wilson. His friend needed help. He didn’t look at the colonel when he got back with their medic. Part of him blamed Hogan for the shape Peter was in, even though he knew their leader didn’t really have a choice. Someone had to go, and Peter was the best man for the job. It wasn’t Hogan’s fault he got captured. That’s just how it happened sometimes. Still, Andrew was a little resentful. He had volunteered to go. He would rather be the one hurt than see his friend hurting.

Hogan told Wilson to come and report to him in his office when he was done with Newkirk. He headed straight upstairs at that point. Guilt was tearing him apart and he couldn’t let the men see him fall apart. He had a ritual he followed at times like these, when his men were hurt, or sick, that seemed to help some, and he intended to follow it now.

When Hogan reached his quarters, he shut the door and opened his footlocker. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and a shot glass. He then removed a box from the bottom of the locker and opened it. He pulled out a rather tattered old uniform shirt… the one he had been shot down in. It was definitely worse for the wear, not because he had worn it out, but because of his ritual. Hogan first poured a shot of scotch, and then located an untorn spot on the shirt. He raised the glass and made a toast. “To you Newkirk. You gave a piece of your soul to those bastards.” He downed the shot, then ripped a tear in the shirt. “And here’s one more tear in my soul no one gets to see.”

There was a tear for every illness or injury his men had suffered since he had taken command of this operation. None of them were very big, but they were a way for him to vent a little of his guilt and anger. Hogan took a deep breath, and then put the shirt away. He laid the bottle back in its place and shut and locked the footlocker. Wilson would be coming soon to report on Newkirk and he needed to be ready… to be strong and confident. To be the fearless leader. And the shirt with the tears would stay his hidden secret until they all went home one day.

The End

[izzy-fishy]

I swear. I’m gonna throw hands with my gym teacher. I was in class while we were playing dodgeball. Meanwhile my uterus was feeling like it got put through a hydraulic press. And to make it EVEN WORSE. Some kid hit me with a ball right in my lower stomach. The exact spot that hurt. I was not having it so I go to one of the gym teachers. Now, keep in mind that our gym class is a joint one. Meaning that there were two different teachers responsible for two different classes. We were usually split up but that day we were grouped together because of picture day or something. I asked the teacher that was responsible for the other class (the one I wasn’t in) if I could go sit down, drink water, etc. She said okay and I come back from the locker rooms a few minutes later. I sit down on the bench since I was still not feeling it. I sat beside my friend. Who the same thing had happened to (ball to the uterus during cramps). We talked a little bit about how Mother Nature must be feeling watching all us uterus having folk suffer. I laughed a little, regretted it since it made it hurt more, and went back to sitting still.

A few seconds later my teacher (the one in charge of my class) comes to me and my friend and asks us why we’re sitting down and not playing with everyone else. We tell her what happened and she basically goes “well from where I’m standing it looks like your over here smiling and laughing with your buds. So why don’t you get back out there and stay active with everyone else”

I was ready to throw hands but there was like, five more minutes of class so I persevered. I was fine when one of my friends got me a Tylenol later. The thing is though. This isn’t the only time that teacher has told me and other uterus folk to just deal with it and get going. She’s usually really nice but on the topic of cramps and other physical illnesses we can’t really control she acts sort of sceptical? Like we’re lying? It seems like she does this a lot of the time with only the girls too. I don’t want to go pointing fingers because I could just be taking it the wrong way so I’ll stay quiet for now.

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

hi!! this got rly long. you totes don't have to read/reply to all of this.

update on my friendship situation.

so, we (me and my best friend) started talking, and it was actually rly good. they apologized for not listening earlier, and we figured out the chord progression for the song we’re writing. The day went rly nice and i got to rant abt the things i wanted to rant abt. so we're good.

**YOU DONT HAVE TO READ THIS NEXT LONG ASS PART IT GETS INTO SOME FRIEND GROUP DRAMA THAT I NEEDED TO EXPEL OFF MY CHEST AND TELL SOEMONE**

all was well until our other ex friend (let's call em J for this story) who my best friend (let's call them A) actually dated for like 3 months started arguing over text. eventually the texts became voice memos. And this argument became really heated really fast and they like started calling out every minor flaw about each other, and J didn’t know i was in the room with A since they weren’t calling. so after they were calling out every mistake of their entire lives, J sent one message that went like “your best friend (me) is a dick anyways i don’t even know why you guys are friends.” and the next message was like "yeah, vicki fucking sucks, man. I ACTUALLY HATE HER SO MUCH" and like i heard that part, cuz it was a voice memo. so for a good 30 mins Jay was sending a ton of voice memos about ME. because they didn't realize that i was listening. Ary was just to stunned to utter a word and and was just confused on how an argument about their relationship became about me. and Jay was being so rude to me and i don't even know what i did. and they kept messaging and saying, "your best friend, sucks" "your best friend's a fucking ass" "vicki is like the worst person alive, she shits on my hobbies, my music taste, my favorite movies and my hair. they've literally pulled out a chunk of my hair before." i made like 2 jokes about how their hair looks like a highlighter, but within the 2 years i've known Jay i could never speak like a sentence without them calling me a dork or a nerd or a suck-up. like once or twice that joke is fine, but they said it after EVERY SENTENCE! and the only reason i pulled a chunk of their hair was because they put me in a headlock and PINNED ME TO THE GROUND until i couldn't breathe! finally Ary spoke up and stood up for me and said "Jay, you've done so much worse shit to vicki aswell. like punching her and calling her a dork so much that i brought her to tears, and yelling that i have a crush on the guy that bullied her for years" (all true things btw.) and then Jay goes, "at least i told vicki to stop they never told me to stop," DID THEY REALLY THINK I COULD?? I WAS SCARED TO BE PUT IN ANOTHER HEAD LOCK AGAIN! this is the BEST part now, Jay was like "Ary, what are you even doing defending her rn? you lowkey hated her for a while" i was to stunned to speak, i was also rly confused abt everything. and i rly thought Ary was defending me too. and then Ary is now like SCREAMING at Jay like over voice memos and the convo stated steering away from me (finally) and honestly i just started reading wholesome peter fanfics cuz i got way too emotionally drained for this shit. honestly if i didn't i would've started sobbing if i didn't distract myself. and then Jay goes, "at least i ended the friendship" BRO. in such a harsh way, Jay literally said that I made them feel like abslute shit whenever we were around each other. and that she wished i wasn't around.

ANYWAYS HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY WHILE I COPE W THIS. (ill be reading fanfics and listening to my new playlist)

stay safe,

luv ya!

-victoria

oh my GOD vic, your friend J is so… honestly, i’m gonna say it, they are doing SO much shitty stuff and you do NOT deserve that ?!?!?!!!!!! i don’t even know how the argument became about you, i’m assuming it was the insecurity getting to J especially since they were arguing about flaws they had, J was probably trying to steer the topic away from themselves… and the whole headlock thing ??? oh my god i’m so glad you guys are ex friends because that’s genuinely such a horrible situation to be put in, and the fact that you were afraid to speak up too ?? ughh :(( i’m so so sorry you’e dealing with this shit, you’re such a kind soul, please don’t let this stuff get to you <3

i’m glad you and your friend worked things out tho !!! proud of you guys for communicating with one another :) <3

[cold-arrow]

Doctor’s Notes, Book 6 part 13

| Deseased Parade | Summary, Things of note since last entry: Next morning, up early retrieving the map "final errands" sight, but no solace. silent compliance a few days journey, resting with at the fox finding a pup. watched. woken. feral. hard to handle. hard to hold. leaving the Wild. another day of travel. unsettling mist, unsettling visions the metallic mystery monster, a friendly visitor. tall trail, night parade, the smell of undeath

(down the list, untill completion. All the Baron items)

| 1 / 6 | cant say I slept particularly well. “Unlike usual” ,  I had a hard time sleeping, after what Lym told us. And with how Aldrin reacted, and the Lady Silverhand’s  stance…

Sigh, Yeah…

Seems Aldrin was up early. And had gone for walk. To my surprise, he hadn’t already retrieved the map. So that we could head out immediately. He’d just gone for a morning walk, I guess…

Am trying not to let it effect my mood to much. But the “even less sleep than usual” ain’t really helping.

Omrick was downstairs eating breakfast bright and early as well. Guess only me and Lym, were the ones who needed a bit of extra time in that morning.

--

We’re about to head out to get the map. But I think ill take the opportunity to take care of a few final errands instead. And let them take care of the map business.

.

.

.

I would have liked to have helped. To Help Them.     Had even prepared some things just in case. But there was Nothing I could actually do.   Too many guards

Even with what Lym had described, it’s,,, a lot worse than I expected. I disease breaks out, if someone gets severely ill from those horrid living conditions. It will spread like a plague… And risk the death of dozens, or hundreds... If not more. let alone if the giants atta

I… don’t know what to do, to help though. I’d said to the others that I was gonna take care of some errands. But…. Instead I just went to one of the warehouses. To see for myself. Aldrin is stuck up, rule obsessed idoit, if he thanks that what those people are....

I know that solving the larger issue at hand is “technically” the right, or best thing to do.     But how long will that take.     Is that really fucking worth hundreds of people suffering. Elongating their misery. just to try and deal with the “Bigger Issue at hand” a bit quicker. huh. I do not see eye to eye with him on that. Not at all.

But I don’t know what to do either.

Nor do I think to others. Or that might convince him. So instead, if seems like were just…. gonna walk out of town. and leave these people to rot, for a while longer. And not even doing a single thing to help them. No wonder my conscience dammed.     Not sure if I’ll sleep much tonight either.

| 2 / 6 |

we’ve only left the town, and started making our way north for like half a day, but im already incredibly tired. It’s not even like we’re travelling at a particularly fast of pace or anything. ( of if we are, at least not consciously) But I am just…    tired. I don’t care if get any sleep. I just need rest. To think. Or to just… keep going.

--

At least my conscience hasn’t fully fallen, and shattered. thanks to small bit of luck. But more so for those we encountered, than ourselves.

Not far from Loudwater, we crossed paths with a wagon, travelling down the road. There were a lot of people on it.   Refugees. When we greeted them, they were   Quite wary of us. But thanks to Lym, we managed to talk to them for a bit. Persuade them. And help them. To warn them. That Loudwater was no safe haven for refugees. But they seemed at their wit’s end, barely had any proviosons left. Lym was kind enough to offer them some of her gold, and they even took a bit of food I gave them. To try and change their mind of heading that way. But hopefully with Lym’s words, and some of the warning we gave them. They hopefully won;t Stay in Loudwater. Just buy food, and keep going.

I really hope we prevented them from ending up with fate similar to those of the other refugees there. They had kids with them. They…. don’t deserve     They deserve much better than that.

Lym was worried that she gave them too much gold. but I think or hope, that with all the coin she gave them. It just means that they’ll be less likely to get stuck  there as well.

…

Once we finally set up camp, I decided to look at some of the enchanted jewellery we scavenged from the Baroness.   She won’t be needing it anyways, as far as I’m concerned.

Quite a few trinkets. Some with rather niche but interesting effects, shile others are actually quite intriguing. Hoping to work my way down the lost, over the next few days. keep myself distracted for a bit.

If any of them pique the others interest however, they are free to lay claim to them. I am just happy to have something to do. I’ll let them decide, after explaining their effects.

| 3 / 6 | after a few days of travelling we are slowly making our to way to some of the first areas marked on the map. Last night we had to sleep through the rain though. And… it didn’t really clear up much, over the next day. however, once it was time to set up camp for the night, Lym managed to find an old abandoned, or burned down I should say, tavern.

Still enough in enough one piece to provide shelter, I think. But it hopefully won’t collapse any further as soon as we head inn.

The Sly Fox, is what it used to be called. The burned image of said creature still hangs by the doorway. There’s not much left of the place though. But hopefully enough to provide Some shelter from the rain, and at least sleep dry for the night.    Something i…   nvm

…

When it was my turn to take watch, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Like there was… something, different than usual, watching me. Or was watching us. I didn’t dare move much during the majority of my watch. Out of fear of perhaps provoking it, if saw, or even acknowledged it’s existence. But whatever it was, I…. it seemed to be coming from the old chimney, I think.

I just put my back to it, and tried to ignore it the best I could. But once it was Lym’s turn to keep watch I decided to notify her of my… gut feeling. Just in case.

…

Guess it Was actually something in the end. And it tried to kill Lym. All of us were awoken by a cry of pain from her, as she backed away from the chimney. Only to panic when she realized what had actually stuck out at her. It… had stabbed her, and in a split second decision, or intuition, she had retaliated against it with her infernal fire. And brought the creature down. But… it had died quite easily… Cause what she thought might have been a goblin at first, turned out to be small (feral) child instead. Who had stabbed her after she approached the chimney.

Upon realizing that, she kind of panicked. and quickly revivified the kid. But it, he, wasn’t particularly keen on accepting her apology. Hiding behind Aldrin, once he was back on his feet. Kind of surprised  he was more afraid of the priest girl than the giant deer man. But it quickly became clear why. The kid did not like magic. And in particular, Lym’s magic hand. Continuously making gestures to stab, or kill the hand with a dagger. Hissing at it, at her. The kid also didn’t really… speak. Most of it sounded more like garbled nonsense. And feral or agitated animals noises. The kid very much seemed feral in nature. Probably raised himself, here out in the wild. And I think for whatever reason that he is out here, alone, or an orphan…. I suspect that magic might have had something to do with it

( maybe the kid wasn’t afraid of Aldrin, because he’s a familiar with deer and beasts?. And knows that those are “harmless” creatures?)

* Important to note as well is that the kid poisoned Lym, with the venom some of the venom on his dagger. If she hadn’t thought of checking the blade, and asking me what was on it…. I shudder to think as to what the poison might have done. As soon as I realized that though, I quickly giver her one of my restorative antidotes, to hopefully nullify the poison. Will have to keep monitor her for a bit, to make sure it actually worked. Just in case. --

It took a lot of stern implications, and gesturing to stop the kid from attacking Lym. Or trying to stab her magic hand. The kid, or Orok I think I what he called, did seem to know “some” common words. But by some, I mean not much more that about a dozen. At least as far as I could tell. Best we can ascertain, from trying to communicate with him, is that is or was part of one of the barbarian tribes around here. But has either left, or been left here for some reason. And made this old burned down tavern his home?

He is very much a handful though, and was constantly trying to jump Lym whenever no one was watching. Though… Aldrin seems to have taken a bit of a shine to him though. Which…       I have opinions about.

He seems to give this one kid

we tried to get some more rest. And would deal with the kid in the morning. Lym tied him up before she revivified him. But Aldrin cut him loose again at some point. Not sure how much we can trust the kid, not to stir trouble though. Lym has understandably gone to bed early, and Omrick ended up taking a longer watch. Apparently he was still a handful, even after we tried getting some more rest. Constantly having to shoo or intimidate the kid away, to keep him from attacking Lym.

guess we’ll figure out what to do with the kid in the morning. Not sure if we can do much about   It  him though

| 4 / 6 |

Managed to get a bit more rest. Though how restful it actually was remains to be seen, when we start travelling again. The kid was gone at first glance, nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until we left the building, that it suddenly jumped Lym again. Aldrin managed to grab the kid before it could do any harm. But…. It really doesn’t seem to like Lym, or her magical hand. Out of curiosity, when I tried summoning a mage hand myself. He definitely had it out for it as well. Makes you wonder as to why he hates magic so much though.

But we can not take the kid with us. I told Aldirn as much, and at least he seems to agree. But if the opportunity arises, he seems quite intent on helping the kid out. And finding him a home. Or someone to take care of him which…. I don’t know.

Im pretty sure the kid can handle himself. And seems happy to call this scorched tavern his home. And like he “oh so clearly told us himself” , we have different priorities   .

We can maybe help out the kid on our way back, if need be. At least it made some kind of attempt to apologize, for scaring us, and attacking Lym though. Which was surprising. He gave us a rabbit as parting gift. The more the kid talked with Aldrin, the more common it remembered. Still don’t know what language the kid was speaking, but… we have different things to worry about.

--

The… following night wasn’t much better. From what Lym and Omrick had told us of their vision, we were looking for the mist shrouded foothills, and had discussed for quite a while, what direction we should go.

But when night rolled around, so did a mist. I at first was a bit relieved that we might have actually headed in the right direction. And the we found the mist shrouded foothills.

But after a bit, I could hear something shuffling… deeper in the mist itself. Moans, and groaning of… the dead. Shadows shifting through the fog, calling out. I… I quickly woke the others, worried that we were about to be under the attack of undead, and zombies. Calling out to them to grab their weapons and panicking a bit. When I suddenly heard a voice call out to me. The others were… confused, not understanding what all of this was about. So I tried explaining to them. That there might be zombies and undead closeby, coming to attack us. But…. they still looked groggy and confused. Some of the shifting figures in mist seemed to get closer. And I tried to back away, to the edge of camp. When something suddenly grabbed my leg. I… screamed. Panicking, trying for whatever grabbed to let me go. When Lym suddenly grabbed a hold of me.

Asking what was wrong. The others were still confused for reason, they didn’t see anything. I asked if they couldn’t hear shambling figures getting closer. see the mist closing in. And… they didn’t. Lym than suddenly hugged me, telling me that everything was alright. That everything was ok. Even though I didn’t really believe her just yet. But the panic began to fade a bit though. helped me calm down. And upon finally realizing that… what I was seeing,  might not be real I…

I kind of feel guilty for waking them up. I really thought we were all about to be under attack. In danger. But… that wasn’t really the case it seems. Omrick told me to come to him. I half expected him to punch me again, for the rude awakening. But he didn’t. I just sat down for a bit, steeling my nerves. Until the next person eventually took over watch.

I hope it doesn’t get worse, the closer we get to The giant death trap.

| 5 / 5 |

Somewhere in the afternoon, after we set out from our camp from last night, we got quite the scare at first. Another dragon was soaring over the skies above us. A metallic one, as far as we could tell. And knowing our recent luck with dragons, we all dreaded that it might end up with us getting robbed or torn to pieces again. We desperately hoped that it was Zyra, but… weren’t particularly optimistic. And not wanting to take our chances, we tried our best to hide, and find shelter beneath with little treeline surrounded us. Hoping that it would go away. -- Just in case Lym asked or Send Zyra a message, asking where she was. But from what we heard from Lym, she only got half a reply as she didn’t realize there was a word limit to the spell. And from what little she did hear from the first part, it… didn’t seem like we’d be that lucky.

But we were. Not only did the dragon spot us. It recognized us. As Zyra came flying down to greet us, with quite a bit of excitement. Explaining that she was taking care of some business here for the Lords Alliance. And helping them deal with some giants. Which was the part Lym got, but not where. Aka, here.

So that was finally good news, on journey here thus far. Quite a blessing in disguise. Zym and Lyra talked for a bit, catching up. And introducing aldrin, who she taught was Baras in a disguise at first. Who she then proceeded to lift him by his horns, which… was quite a way to introduce oneself. If if weren’t for the fact that she’s a literal dragon, and that Aldrin himself was somewhat dumbfounded by the: Very friendly demeanour of our draconic friend, I’m pretty sure he would have knocked the wind out of anyone else for such a greeting. But after that kind of tense moment things were quite pleasant. Lym seemed a bit flustered and mostly surprised that it was Zyra, although pleasantly. And a little annoyed after a bit of teasing from Omrick. But all of us were quite relieved that it was in fact actually her. – And after explaining our reason for being here. And what we were looking for, she even offered to help us find the Stone giants. Bless her soul.

Even despite her warnings of, how dangerous the stone giants in this area, I actually feel a lot less worried now knowing that she is here as well. She seemed a bit apprehensive when we told her, that we were here to face them, and deal with them. But I think she underestimates how much of threat we are to them as well, I hope. And now that she actually knows that the reason they keep getting back up is because the are undead. Hopefully she’ll have an easier time dealing with them as well.

Am looking forward to when she returns and reports back her findings, hopefully soon. I think Lym, and all us could use her help, and encouragement quite a bit.

| 6 / 6 | we spotted some stone giants in the distance, on the path ahead. Hopefully they can lead us to their base. As long as they aren’t in fact just leaving it. Hopefully, It shouldn’t be too hard to follow them though. Or at least their tracks, as long as we don’t get spotted. But best keep a safe distance. Not like we could easily catch up anyways. If that time with the firegaints was anything to go by. Which… was also when we met Harshnag huh.

( miss the big guy. Could have used his guidance, his help quite a bit as of late. Es���) we set up camp again that night. Zyra hasn’t came back yet, but I guess that might be a bit soon to expect of happening.

This place is definitely getting a bit creepier though.

Don’t think any of us are skipping, or going to slack during our watches.

--

So we had quite a surprise, Again. A bigger one this time.

Apparently a parade of stone giants, passed us during the night. And one of the undead orcs that were travelling with them. Tripped. And after getting back up, caught are scent. It was fortunately the only though. But it proved a lot more resilient that expected. And when it approached our camp, during Lym’s watch, it attacked her. She tried to lay low when the giants initially passed. Not wanting to give away our position. But when the one orc got closer and found it’s way to our camp. She tried to quickly deal with it. But… it seemed unfaced by her first attempt at turning, or destroying it with her divine magic. And lashed out at her. Which was enough to wake the others. Us. And Aldrin quickly brought it down with a few quick slashes of his sword. -- I really hope though, that the other undead with the stone giants, aren’t as… tough as this one. Especially if there are dozens, or even hundreds of them. (I did intend on helping out with dispatching the undead orc. but by the time I finally found my crossbow, and my glasses. It was already dead. Didn’t even have time to get up. So the only thing I could do to help, was properly dress the wound that it had left on Lym. Which she hadn’t really bandaged properly, so I made sure it didn’t get infected. She probably wanted to safe her strength for tomorrow though, and not spend any of her healing magic on it, which is understandable. But better safe than sorry) | end of entry |

[television-pil0t]

When he finally leaves so I can have a severe breakdown that’s been building up.

God I feel awful. I hope he’s ok. I can’t keep helping him we have the same problem man. My parents suck to. My bf doesn’t understand either! IM SCARED TO OPEN UP TO MY BF TO! ITS BECOMING TO MUCH FOR ME TO! I’m sorry. I can’t help you when I have no idea how to help myself. I get mad because my bf talks to other people to. I get so jealous I push myself to. I hurt myself because he doesn’t need me to. I don’t know how to get you to stay. I want you to stay. I want you to keep talking to me because your pain makes me feel less alone. We both wanna kill ourself so bad man. I don’t have a plan like you. I don’t know what’s next. I CANT MAKE BY MYSELD EITHER FUCK IM SORRY EVERY TIME YOU VENT TO ME I JUST TELL YOU “talk to your friends! TALK TO YOUR BF! BUT SHIT I CANT DO THAT! You tell me “I’m gonna fucking do it I can’t take it anymore” but I’d I said that to my bf HE WOULDNT GIVE A SHIT! HES FUCKING DONE! HE FUCK FUCK FUCK IM SORRY I CANT HELP YOU IM IN WORSE! I’m in fucking deeper. You got to your month anniversary with your bf AND IVE BEEN IN MY RELATIONSHIP FOR 3 YEARS! Three fucking years! It’s hard for me to man! Idk how to keep going either! Idk how I’m gonna be a adult! Idk how to tell my friends that I’m suicidal either man I DONT FUCKING KNOW! I have no idea what I’m gonna do in a year! OR A MONTH! OR A DAY FROM NOW! All I do is the same thing you do. I feel like I’m not good at anything to! I feel useless too! I FEEL SO FUCKING UNLOVED TO MAN AND IDK WHAT TO DO ANYMORE EITHER! I’m sorry I can’t help you as much as other people can but god at least you HAVE other people. I hope you take my advice. I hope YOUR bf helps you. I hope your ok. I hope you didn’t SH to bad again. I hope you don’t do it Saturday. I know my bf would be so fucking sad and I can’t deal with that. I can’t deal with the secrets and the lies and the insecurity either man! I CANT DEAL WITH IT ANYMORE THAN YOU CAN! I’m scared to. I’m so so so fucking scared and now I have nobody to talk about it to. I hope someone can help you. I looked out the window of my apartment and all I can think of is getting a gun and just getting it over with. He makes account after account to just hide from me because he dosnt fucking trust me. He keeps so fucking much from me it’s agonizing. I’m tired of crying to man! IM TIRED OF ALL OF IT TO! I DONT FUCKING KNOW WHAT THE FUCK TO DO! GOD I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO! I hate screaming while crying it gives me a headache. I hate limping when I walk after punching myself. I hate the way he didn’t tell me he loved me back for 2 days I hate the way he treated me for a year I hate the way I grew up. I hate myself. I hate being a failure. I hate being as jealous as I am. I HATE THAT HE DOSNT POST ABOUT ME! I hate the fact that he’s talked shit about me to all his family and don’t even wanna tell THAT mf that we’re dating because “I just don’t wanna hear his lecture” WELL WHOS FAULT WAS IT THAT HE SEES ME IN SUCH A FUCKED UP LIGHT! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM! I hate how I feel! I hate that I remember it all! The good and the bad. I hate when I draw! I hate my voice. I hate my body. I hate being touched. I hate THAT I ASK FOR TO MUCH TO! WE BOTH ASK FOR TO MUCH FROM OUR PARTNERS! I DONT KNOW! I don’t know. It’s been 3 years and idk what to do! I know I ask for to much and I haven’t even asked anything of him yet besides comfort and HES DONE GIVING ME THAT! I feel so hopeless. So fucking alone. So tired all the time. Maybe I should make a plan. With all the mental flashes of shooting myself in the jaw maybe I’ll do that. I have no idea what to do. AHHH I DONT WANNA DIE THO! I DONT WANNA DIE I JUST WANT SOMETHING I CANT HAVE! ILL NEVER HAVE! WHEN HE LEAVES ME AGAIN IM JUST GONNA BE ALONE! Just like I said when we first started dating “I swore I was gonna die alone” shit! I AM! I get tired of everyone so quickly. I’m so needy. I’m either obsessed to the point of neglecting myself or I’m selfish to the point of them leaving. I’m a piece of shit that deserves this fucking life. This god damn hell I put myself in. I miss my mom.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Feral (Part 10)

Summary: Dean’s collar is finally coming off but the reader quickly notices something very strange about it, something that leads the group to believe Dean was targeted as a kid. Dean is struggling with the news and they make another trip to Dr. Goulding to help ease his worries. Except that trip might just make things worse...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, violence, mention of kidnapping, heavily implied abuse (non-graphic)

A/N: Enjoy!...

______

“How’d I do?” you asked an hour later, Dean turning around on the bench, smiling before running his hand over his face and through his hair.

“I feel like I finally look like me again,” he said. His beard was gone, only a slight barely there stubble to his cheeks and jaw now. His hair was short and spiky, Dean cocking his head in the mirror. “Fuck, I got old didn’t I. At least I look younger without the beard.”

“Dean. You’re thirty. You are still very very young and handsome,” you said. You kissed the top of his head. He looked at you in the mirror, still smiling.

“I know,” he said, Sam walking into the doorframe, holding up a black looking wrench. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Master key. You do not want to know what kind of scolding the pharmacist gave me for losing a collar lock. I like the new haircut.”

“Thanks,” said Dean, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“We’re very grateful for your suffering Sam,” you said as Sam handed the key to you. “Dean do you want to do the honors?”

“You do it. I’m looking forward to not wearing one of these anymore,” he said. 

“Alright boys,” you said. You found the edge of the collar, slipping the small thin end of the master key into the locking mechanism built into the leather. It disengaged and you quickly unbuckled the back, Dean hissing as you pulled it off.

“Finally,” said Dean, rubbing his bare neck. “That feels-”

“What is that?” asked Sam. Dean spun around, staring at what you already were, the small thin needle tip poking out of the back of the collar. 

“It’s the shock system,” said Dean but you shook your head. “What-”

“Dean this is the collar you came in wearing, correct?”

“Yeah. Been wearing that one since I was a kid,” he said. “Why?”

“Y/N what is that?” asked Sam as you looked it over.

“This kind of collar has a medicine pack. They’re used very rarely. They are extremely expensive. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for one and even then they are only authorized for critical care patients. It feeds drugs directly into the patient, slow feed, for years. It’s, it’s more of a long term care tool than anything else. Think someone with a debilitating muscle or skeletal disease. The constant drug dosing helps them stay active and lead a normal quality of life. Depending on the drug used, the pack regenerates medicine over time. It’s very hands off and for very, very rich and ill patients only.”

“What drug is in there?” said Dean. 

“We’re gonna find out. Something that doesn’t show up on any of the tests I’ve done so far.” You narrowed your eyes at the pack, Dean turning around in his seat. You set the collar on the counter and smiled. “Let me clean up your neck and do a quick scan of your bones to make sure you’re all good.”

“Uh, how’d you get a scanner?” asked Dean. You pointed at Sam and he shrugged. “How’d you even know how to get all this stuff?”

“Y/N tells me what she needs and I make a call to the CEO and then I have whatever she needed next day, no questions asked. Mom and dad’s friends still look out for me. They’ll look out for you too.”

“Thanks. Shit this feels amazing to not have a sweaty ass neck constantly,” said Dean, rubbing his bare neck. You gave his hand a squeeze and kiss on top of his head before you went down to your room, the boys following you inside.

“It’s portable so you can just stand there,” you said, picking up the wand looking rod from the black bin on the ground.

“How expensive is that thing?” asked Dean.

“You do not want to know,” said Sam. “It’s also a rental so we better not break it.”

“Hold still,” you said to Dean as he sat on the bench at the end of the bed. You turned the wand on and turned it around, waving it around his neck twice before you heard the beep. “All set.”

You hit it off and put it back in the box, cleaning Dean’s neck with an antiseptic before putting some lotion to help the soreness on.

“I literally can’t explain how good this feels,” said Dean, scooting up and back on your bed, laying down with a smile. “Like this is as good as an orgasm.”

“Nice to see a smile on your face. Now you look like a trust fund kid again,” teased Sam, leaning back against your desk as you checked your computer. He glanced down and you smiled. “I think your scans look good.”

“No damage. You’re perfectly healthy in that regard,” you said, plugging the collar into a cable from your red box lab kit. The boys started to discuss the family business and how it was doing these days, Sam mentioning Dean could get on the board of directors like he was and it was very minimal work. It’d leave plenty of time for Dean to work on cars or figure out what he wanted to do. You heard your name in the conversation but you were clicking through options on your computer, holding your breath as you followed the trail of ingredients down until you got a hit.

“What’s wrong?” asked Dean, his nose twitching as you breathed deeply.

“She found the medicine,” said Sam, leaning over the computer. “It’s called Araw?”

“It’s not Araw,” you said quietly. “It means raw Alpha extract. It’s presentation medication. It guarantees an Alpha presentation. It’s only used in adolescents.”

“What happens if you give it to an adult?” asked Sam.

“Exposure to a certain dosage of Alpha extract in an adult, or extended dosage, causes feral states. Unnatural feral states meaning too large of a dose can permanently alter an Alpha’s natural instinct from anything to scenting, ruts, mating, protective and pack instincts. It-”

“It fucks up their heads forever is what you’re saying.” Dean got up, both you and Sam going after him. “Y/N we both know I was feral earlier on our date, even when I was happy. My whole life I’m going to not know if I’ll snap and hurt you or Sam. No wonder why I nearly tore him apart the other night. I didn’t even recognize him as being in my pack anymore.”

“Dean stop,” you said, catching his wrist as he left the room. “You’re not fucked up.”

“I will never act like a normal Alpha. Seventeen years that thing was injecting me. I-”

“Hey,” said Sam, grabbing Dean’s other arm. “Calm down. If something exists to help you, we’ll get it and if it doesn’t, while invent it. You need to relax. Let Y/N finish examining you. Please.”

Dean nodded after a moment, untensing his arm, letting your hand slide down to his.

“I know of a way to test permanent changes,” you said. 

“But I know I’m-”

“Dean everything you’ve gone through could have been from what we said at the start. You were having natural feral states as a way of protecting yourself. We can test if the drugs caused you being feral or if it was you.”

“What do we need?” asked Sam.

“I think we need to pay Dr. Goulding another visit if we can trust him.”

“Why aren’t you charging Sam for this?” you asked an hour later, Dean finally starting to drift off on the bed he laid on in Dr. Goulding’s house, a few electrodes strapped to his head. The doctor turned to you and smiled. “Because it’s for Dean.”

“It’s a miracle that boy is alive and well. As well as could be expected. I was curious what Sam was up to with the fugitive doctor on the news but knew better than to ask.”

“Why not turn me in?”

“Not a good way to maintain a loyal customer base. I’ve always trusted the Winchesters,” he said, Sam snoring lightly in a chair near Dean. “My initial assessment of Dean is that the drugs didn’t take effect until after he’s been pulling out of his feral states, only the few days or so then. He would have still been considered growing right about until he started to enter those feral states.”

“So going feral naturally has protected him from the drugs,” you said.

“I suspect. I could be wrong but the very little time he’s spent out of his growing period and feral states subjected to the drug would not cause any changes. The test the boys are on will confirm. It should only take about an hour before they can wake up. Although it has been some time since I’ve heard of anyone using the GG test.”

“I remember the case study from school...and that the renowned Dr. Gil Goulding invented it.” 

“You must have gone into a highly specialized field to discover that old paper.”

“Alpha rehabilitation with a focus in feral studies. I couldn’t bring myself to work the severe feral cases though. It was too hard not to mention Omega’s are hardly ever let in,” you said, Dean stirring in his sleep. You both walked outside and sat on his back patio, about five times the size of the massive one at the Winchester’s house. “You were one of the first to have breakthrough rehabilitations.”

“If you’re asking how you did with Dean I’d say it was an excellent job.”

“But it’s not even been a week. He’s still feral-”

“Dr. Y/L/N. Contrary to popular belief, rehabilitating an Alpha in a feral state is a fairly quick process. Either they come out of it within a day or they don’t. If they come out of it, even for a moment, then it worked.”

“That’s not true.”

“That’s not what they teach you in school but it is. What they do now is they want medical doctors to be psychologists and therapists on top of physiological experts. No one can handle all of that. No one. It’s why each Alpha needs a team. A specialist in every field but that’s too expensive for people that are considered write offs to society. There are barely any true feral rehab clinics left. It’s not a one size fits all and every Alpha can be rehabbed if they got the proper care but they don’t.”

“Dean still goes feral,” you said quietly.

“Yes but feral is not inherently bad for an Alpha. That is the crux of the problem. Society has twisted feral into this bad word meaning an Alpha is dangerous and unhinged, not mentally there. It is purely raw instinct. Dean being feral on your date earlier does not mean it was a problem. He claimed to be happy so what you saw was his raw instinct being happy. That is all his feral state was.”

“But normal people don’t go feral.”

“Tell me something. If you hadn’t seen Dean’s eyes, when’s the last true time you would have assumed he was feral? Not thought he’s simply angry or happy or anything else. When, by his actions, would you have assumed he was feral?”

“He did kinda pick me up yesterday when he got mad.”

“To hurt you or protect you?”

“Protect,” you said after a moment. “What are you getting at doctor?”

“What happens to an Alpha that has scented their true mate but has not yet claimed them?”

“But we’re both on medication to-”

“Under normal circumstances medicine keeps it at bay but only for a few months at most. An Alpha that spent the previous years in a feral state that has met his true mate...how long do you think the medication will work?”

“You’re saying…” you trailed off. 

“I’m saying don’t confuse his instincts as your mate and being denied the claim as him being feral. He has incredible self-discipline to not claim you. I’m shocked he’s lasted this long.”

“I can’t mate him right now. He doesn’t even know how to have sex and he’s terrified of hurting me.”

“I think you both ought to stop thinking so much for once and let instinct take over. He is remarkably well because he’s been with you. Mate and I can guarantee that what you think are feral states will go away. He may become feral like again but likely only in extreme circumstances, same as you.”

“Doc. I’m Omega. I can’t go feral.”

“From what I understand you jumped in front of a gun for Dean. You have protective instincts. Omega’s have incredible protective instincts, even more so than an Alpha in some cases. Being feral is not bad in Dean’s case Dr. Y/L/N. He has always used it as a protective measure, not a violent one. My advice? Get off your medications, mate, and try to lead lives where you forget this awfulness he’s gone through. Both of you.”

You sat down on a chair, Dr. Goulding taking a seat beside you. 

“You care deeply for injured Alphas. I remember reading your book on Alpha emotional intelligence,” you said.

“I recall reading a paper challenging that view that it was too narrow of a case study by a young resident,” he chuckled. “A Dr. Y/L/N.”

“I published that last year.”

“I know. I still like to keep an eye on those making headway in the field. But even I’m not a household name such as yourself right now.”

“Thankfully only me and a trusted friend at the clinic knew Dean’s identity. I didn’t mean to cause you any-”

“I understand.” You nodded, sitting back and playing with the drawstring on your jacket. “The Winchesters have incredible lawyers, including Sam. I’m sure the charges can get dropped.”

“Yeah. I’m more concerned about something else.”

“The mystery doctor. Yes Sam told me, asked me to think of anyone I knew of that could have done such a thing.”

“I want to find the son of a bitch and tear their throat out.” The doctor hummed, excusing himself. You threw your head back, surprised to hear the doctor grunt after a few seconds. You turned in your seat, watching him set a heavy photo album on the table outside. 

“Sadly John and Mary knew many doctors. But there’s only eight or so I can think of that would fit the bill.” You got up and he started to flip through pages, finding a picture and pulling it out of the sleeve. “Ah. This was from a fundraiser the boys parents put on annually. These are the other doctors, myself included, that were close to them.”

“You said eight doctors. Not including yourself would be nine. There’s ten doctors in this photo.”

“I don’t believe Dr. Insler had anything to do with it,” he said, pointing at the woman in the picture beside him.

“The Dr. Insler? You know the Omega specialist Dr. Insler?”

“I hope so. He only mated and married her,” said a feminine voice. You turned around, an older woman in a doctor’s coat walking out. “Gil. Is that Dean and Sam Winchester on the couch doing a GG test?”

“It is. Honey this is the infamous Dr. Y/L/N. I told the boys their secrets are safe with us.”

“Hi,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“If you somehow don’t lose your license you are more than welcome to come work for me. I like doctor’s that care more about patients than rules. I’m guessing Dean Winchester is the Alpha that you supposedly kidnapped from the facility,” she said.

“I did technically kidnap him,” you said.

“Right. Cause I’m sure he’d much rather have stayed in that place and be dead right now. Come on. You can help me make dinner while explaining what the fuck is going on.”

“For all money can buy and all our advancements, some diseases are still just too much for us right now,” said Dr. Insler or Sophia as she preferred you called her, while you washed up a cutting board close to an hour later. “Mary always knew Dean was out there. I’m glad she was right. I wish she was here to see her boy home safe.”

“I wish she was too. I’ll take more people that care about Dean right now,” you said. She smiled and you returned it, sharing a nod with her. “Your husband seems to think Dean’s problems will be solved once we mate.”

“I agree with his medical assessment. But I can understand your personal one as well. You two will mate, that’s a given. When is your choice and only you two will instinctively know the correct time for that. Every mating pair goes through it.”

“Dr. Insler...I went through puberty without a bonding gland. I present Omega and it only recently grew back at meeting Dean,” you said quietly. She smiled, handing you a towel. 

“You’re concerned about your ability to bear pups.”

“Statistically it could be a problem if we even decided-”

“Statistically your true mate isn’t the famed kidnapped Winchester boy and statistically you don’t end up as his rehab doctor or make the choice to save his life or make all the other choices you’ve made yet here you are. When it comes to true mates, statistics go out the window. Not to mention I am one of the top Omega specialist in this country so if I can’t help you get pregnant, no one can. That boy is not ready to have pups anytime soon regardless.”

“No I know. God he never even got to be a kid. I want to...ensure there’s no possibility at the moment.”

“That casserole is going to take forty minutes and the boys will be groggy even when they wake up. You got five minutes I can get you settled.”

About ten minutes later you had a bandage on your arm from the shot, Dr. Insler checking the pie in the second oven.

“This will work for six months you said?”

“Yeah. Lots of women prefer it. You’ll probably want to go that route in the future,” she said, leaning back against the counter. She sighed and closed her eyes. “I can not believe Gil charged Sam for helping you yesterday.”

“To be fair the medicine he gave me is very expensive.”

“Winchesters are a no cost customer and that includes mates. He knows that,” she said. You looked down, hearing the boys start to wake up further down the hall. “I’m so sorry.”

“Dean’ll be okay eventually. It’s hard now it-”

“I meant you. Everything you and Gil have told me...sweetie no bonding gland? I know how kids grow up without one and it’s not good. You’re smart. Real smart. And you just gave up everything you struggled for in an instant, to help Dean.”

“Wouldn’t you do it for Gil?”

“Gil’s not my true mate in the way we know...but I think a true mate is someone you would do anything for and I know I have that with him. I think your bond can change from one person to another. If you find someone that’s more right for you, then it becomes tied to that person. But you have been through a lot in the past week and you need to relax. Let Dean take care of you for a bit. It’s good for the both of you.”

“He’s a highly-”

“You’re not helping him by holding his hand. That time is done and over. Everybody fucks up so let him fuck up and learn it’s okay to fuck up.”

“It’s so much easier being the doctor and telling that to a family member than being the family member,” you said, glancing down the hall.

“I know. Relax sweetheart. The boys are safe and Gil and I will do everything we can to help figure out who it was Dean remembers that was part of taking him.”

“I’m going to check on the test results if that’s okay,” She waved you off and you headed down to the office, Gil looking over a computer in there. 

“As I expected,” he said with a smile. “Dean’s good.”

“What’s good?” yawned Dean, nose twitching. “Smells like mom’s pie.”

“It’s your mother’s recipe so I would hope so,” said Gil, excusing himself to help set the table.

“So drama queen. Your test results came back negative. You are medically and unequivocally one hundred percent as normal as any other Alpha,” you said. Dean blushed and bit his bottom lip, Sam stretching with a smirk. “Samuel.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun. Told you that you’re normal,” he said, standing up. “It does smell like mom’s pie though.”

“I made friends with Gil and Sophia while you two were sleeping. They’re going to try and help figure out which group of doctor friends could have been involved in your guys kidnapping years ago,” you said.

“I’m more than okay with that,” said Sam. “I know Sophia did everything she could for mom. Even got her in special clinical trials. I don’t think they would have hurt us.”

“There was a dark green leather chair,” said Dean, looking up through his lashes. “I know there was one of those in that damn room.”

“Don’t worry about it for right now. I think we’ll all enjoy a home cooked meal by somebody else for a change,” you said, sitting down beside Dean. He rested his head on your shoulder, humming softly.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.”

“Like I said Dean. Freak out every day of your life. I’ll still be right here.”

“You two are kinda sickeningly sweet you know.” Sam smiled though, taking a shaky step before getting his feet under him. “It’s kinda cute I guess.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get the hot doctor,” said Dean.

“I’ll have you know that I have it on good authority that the new girl at work has a thing for me.”

“Have you ever even spoken to her?” you asked. Sam pouted and Dean chuckled.

“Here I thought you were the one giving me the dating advice,” said Dean. “I already got a girlfriend, someday mate.”

“He has a point Sammy,” you teased.

“Fuck you and fuck you,” he said, heading out of the room. 

“We love you too Sam!” you called. Dean lifted his head, his smile bigger than before. “What’s up silly?”

“You love Sammy?” he asked. You smirked, kissing his cheek.

“He’s part of my pack after all. How could I not love him?” Your heart skipped a beat, Sam turning back into the room.

“Did you guys just feel that?” he asked, inhaling deeply. “I guess Y/N’s officially part of the pack based on that smell.”

“You protect her if I can’t,” said Dean to Sam. “Promise.”

“Of course. I owe her everything Dean. I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“Thank you,” he said, Dean pulling you into his lap.

“And I don’t need to be around for this,” said Sam, quickly leaving. You put your head on Dean’s shoulder and felt him hum, whole body warm and feeling like home. 

“Dean. When you’re ready to mate...let me know okay? We don’t have to worry about pups in the near term or anything like that. I want you to have you independence and take care of yourself for a while before you even consider them, if you want them at all. I was thinking...when you’re ready...I think I’m ready to go there with you too. I feel like it might be a really good thing for the both of us actually.”

“Did my test show…” he trailed off, blushing again. You shook your head, running your thumb over his cheek. “I don’t even know how to have sex.”

“I’m no expert. Basically you stick it in,” you chuckled.

“It’s more complicated than that I’m sure.”

“I guess. But it’s not just the physical act.”

“That’s what I mean. I don’t know how to…expose myself to someone like that.”

“Yeah you do.” You stroked his jaw, Dean leaning into the touch. “You’ve never hidden yourself from me.”

“You’ve never seen certain parts of me.”

“Then show me them when you’re ready. Until then, we can have the other parts of a relationship.”

“I am ready. It’s just…I don’t know if you’re ready.” You cocked your head. He chuckled, resting his hand on your waist. He pulled you closer, your breath hitching. “I’m the Alpha. But I don’t know if you’re ever going to let me be the strong one. I take a lot and I understand why I have to take more but I need to start giving too. You can take care of me but you are not my caretaker. We’re past that. So until I think you can accept that I am not just the recovering rehab Alpha but a strong person capable of taking care of other people, you and me aren’t mating.” 

You moved off his lap, scooting away from him on the bed. 

“Now you feel bad,” he sighed.

“I don’t mean to make you feel like I think you’re weak.” He shook his head and took hold of your hand. “I do though. You’ve already asked me to be your friend and no more doctor and I keep falling back into that.”

“No you haven’t. I didn’t say you made me feel weak. All I want is for you to know I can take care of you too. Partners. That is the only way I do this and right now I don’t think you’ve shown me all of you either.” You blinked, Dean rolling his eyes. “Oh come on Y/N. Your life was completely flipped upside down. You lost your job, your home, friends. You’re a wanted fugitive. Your bonding gland grew back and you have a mate which you thought wasn’t possible since you were a little girl. Your mom hurt you and you lost both of your parents in the process as a kid. You have scars and fears just like me but you don’t talk to me about them. You barely told me those few little things I do know. I barely know you and you won’t talk to me about anything involving you.”

“Maybe because I didn’t want to love you. I didn’t ask for this,” you snapped at him. “I’m not a bubbly happy person and you sure as shit don’t need my crap dumped on you right now.”

“Because you needed my crap dumped on you?”

“That’s my job Dean.”

“It’s a hell of a lot you’ve done for just your job Y/N,” he said. You stood up, Dean stopping you from leaving. 

“Dean.”

“No,” he said, getting in your face. “You don’t get to bring up mating and then try to leave when you have to be the one to get vulnerable for a change. Do you know how humiliating it feels to have to constantly be telling you and Sam every damn thing? I had more freedom as a child. I am more than happy to be honest with you but I hate having to always be an open book to every single thing I’m feeling. If you and Sam are pissed or happy and run off to have your side conversations I don’t say one thing but if I change my voice or the look on my face or anything it’s suddenly twenty questions. So until you and me are on equal footing, there is no mating. There’s not even any dating. You need my permission to mate with me and you don’t have it.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. His eyes were dark and feral, his scent strong, a sharp metallic tint you didn’t like. You turned your wrist over gently, Dean holding it still. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Well you’re scaring me and I want you to let go of my hand,” you said, sliver of a quake in the words. “Dean.”

“Would I hurt you?”

“You’re scaring me,” you said again but Dean wouldn’t release you and you pushed on his chest gently. “Stop.”

“Y/N.” You pushed harder, Dean catching your other hand. “Calm down.”

“Me calm down? You’re the one acting like an asshole Alpha.” You tugged your arms, Dean pulling you flush to him.

“Why are you so scared Omega?” he said gently. “You smell like metal and-”

“You smell! Not me,” you grunted. Dean picked you up and carried you out the office door to a side patio, Dean ignoring the chill in the air. “Dean I-”

“I know a panic attack when I see it. Trust me,” he said softly. “I know what one smells like too.”

You forced yourself to relax against him, Dean finding a chair to sit the two of you in while you buried your face in his neck. You focused on breathing and finding the woodsy warm part of his scent, eventually getting your mind to stop racing a few minutes later.

“You smell better,” he said, running a hand over your head. You kept it tucked down, staying quiet for the most part. “How do you feel?”

“Embarrassed,” you whispered. “I make you feel humiliated on top of that apparently.”

“Sweetheart the number of times I’ve been humiliated in my life is countless. The situation is humiliating at times but we’re starting to get out of that. I completely understand why it has had to be like that. But you shouldn’t be embarrassed over a panic attack and I’m sorry I pushed you into one. It’s always been the situation that makes me feel that way, not you.” You shook your head, sitting up but Dean keeping his hands on your waist. “What is it Omega?”

“Do you know what it’s like to grow up knowing one of your parents was evil and the other died because they went feral for you? To live in a group home but they don’t know whether to put you with the Alpha or Beta or Omega girls because you don’t fit? Because you’re broken and always have been and there was never an Alpha in the world that looked in your direction because they could smell something was wrong and missing? All I had was work and helping people and I don’t even have that anymore. I have you but I keep waiting for you to turn up your nose and see what everyone else does. I’m not even a real Omega. I’m supposed to be a good doctor that is alone and I don’t even have that anymore. You went through hell and I can’t even make it a week of taking care of you. A week. You deserve whatever you want for the rest of your life and I can’t even make it a week.”

He wrapped his arms around your back, hugging you tightly. You sniffled and swallowed the large lump in your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut, a soft hand wiping off your cheek. You opened them slowly, Dean cleaning off the other, catching a tear on his thumb that hadn’t yet fallen.

“The reason no one looked in your direction was because you hadn’t met me yet and sweetheart, I don’t plan on taking my eyes off of you for the rest of eternity. I am sorry it took this long for you to find me. God knows I gave up hope a long time ago too. But you are an Omega and you fit right next to me. I’d be dead without you. Dead. You gave up the one slice of happiness you carved out for yourself for me. You deserve everything you want and more too. Everything you have said and given me you deserve it right back. You had your own version of hell to live through, it wasn’t just me.”

“You can’t compare you being kidnapped to me thinking I was going to be single the rest of my life.”

“My mom didn’t hurt me. My dad loved me so much he drank himself to death. I’m sure he would have gone feral if he had someone to get his hands on. I was owned and you were an outcast. People that were good for completing a task and nothing else. No love or family. Different circumstances but still two shitty lives.”

“You don’t get to say that! You were taken and hurt and-”

“And I’m sure the half presented Omega wasn’t bullied in school right? I’m sure she was miss popular. I’m sure she grew up spectacularly in her group home. I’m sure she never thought about how she couldn’t even get a boy to go out with her let alone the fact a real family was out of the question. Tell me this boyfriend you had that you slept with, how wonderful of a guy was he?”

“He wasn’t alright? I wore scent enhancers whenever I would go out with him and he was a douche when he realized I had no bonding gland and walked out half way through sex. So yeah. I’m broken but your situation was so much worse. So much Dean and please stop comparing them.”

“Am I broken?”

“No. God no.”

“But my situation is worse. So are we both broken or did we both have shitty situations? Which is it?”

“I wasn’t kidnapped! I wasn’t held against my will!”

“We both had our futures ripped away from us by evil people. Both of us.”

“I had my freedom. You didn’t.”

“You were trapped in a workaholic lifestyle with no care for your wants or needs and you would have kept on that way the rest of your life being miserable if I hadn’t shown up. The only difference between you and me is I always knew I was trapped. You just pretended you weren’t.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, glancing away, Dean not moving his hand away from your cheek when you started to cry. 

“My pain was different than your pain, yes. But it’s so much more similar than you think. Let me start helping take away some of yours like you’ve done for me. Please. I want to.”

“I’m so tired,” you breathed out. You rested your head on his shoulder, Dean shushing you. “I’m so fucking tired Alpha.”

“Rest, Omega. I got you.” 

“We have dinner soon and I need to clean up,” you said, trying to sit up but Dean held you close. “But-”

“Dinner will be there. I told you to rest Omega. Now rest for your Alpha. Please sweetheart get some damn rest finally.”

________

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

[forestlingincorporated]

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People. 

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them. 

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent. 

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.) 

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction. 

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children. 

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically. 

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation. 

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear. 

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect. 

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?) 

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but... 

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7. 

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.) 

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics. 

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two. 

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about. 

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural. 

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries. 

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance. 

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other. 

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent. 

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart. 

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist. 

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well. 

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child. 

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive. 

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you. 

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt. 

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh... 

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating? 

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting. 

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t. 

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so. 

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet. 

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom. 

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.