#your partner just a little mad from grief and then said dead (girl)friend comes back as a ghost and is like “hey lol lets go kill podcast”

[ilovettrpgs]

[inomios]

Beauty behind the madness || levi ackerman x reader || PART I

Summary: “You knew that under all of his layers of grief and rage there was something worth loving; he knew that under your easy smiles and sweet words there was something dark lurking. He wanted all of you and you wanted all of him.”

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Words: 7,4K

TG: Brief allusion to soldiers’ suicides; little description of a panic attack on the seventh part (I can’t feel my face); brief talk about death and addiction; and even though I wrote it all using gender neutral terms, at some point I used the term girlfriend because partner sounded too cold for the situation.

-        If you are triggered by some content that I haven’t mentioned, please tell me so I can add it to the list and prevent it from happening again.

Author’s note: Mushing my favorite album with my comfort character is being so much fun. I’m enjoying so much this process you wouldn’t believe it. The second part will be up next Tuesday, and it’ll be the ending. Please, share, comment and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to see your reactions and impressions. As always, English is not my mother language, so sorry for the mistakes.

                                                          . . .

1. REAL LIFE

He had carved on his soul, heart and mind the words that Kenny had once told him, back when he was a scared and weak kid under his wing in the Underground, back when Kenny had caught him crying in the dead of night over his mother.

‘Boy, you won’t survive a day with that attitude. Your mother was a whore and now she’s a dead whore, get over it. You don’t have time to mop over her, crying is for people who have nothing more important to worry about.’

Kenny, for better or for worse, had taught him many lessons that became the key to his survival, advices he would never forget, and this was one of them: ‘Grieving is a waste of time.’

Every second he cried over his mother was time he could have spent granting his sorrowful existence. He couldn’t let his grief control him, because missing his mother wouldn’t make him last another day, she couldn’t protect him now that she was gone. So, for better or for worse, he let his sadness and rage aside and started focusing on what was important: survival.

Grieve is a tricky feeling, it makes you think you can control it, while it just keeps bottling up until it explodes, and you better be ready for when that happens, because you may not be able to fix the mess it’s going to leave behind.

Levi thought he had masqueraded his feelings pretty well, he tried to shrug everything off, as if nothing mattered to him, but it did, and Kenny knew it and he loved to tease him about it, he loved to press his buttons, Levi had learned that pretty soon in the relationship, but he was trying to handle his feelings, he wanted to prove Kenny he was worthy of his time, that he was strong, that  he wasn’t weak, not anymore. So, whenever Kenny tried to get a reaction out of him, he kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t water down the fire in his grey eyes and Kenny could see it, he always could.

‘You are as worthless as your mother, maybe I should leave you in a brothel too, then you would be useful for something.’

A loud howling laughter.

Levi’s brow twitched.

‘Did your mom have time to teach you how to read or was she too busy fucking half the Underground?’

He thought he had said something hilarious. He bent over his back.

Levi had a little knife clutched in his hand.  He was starting to see red.

‘You’re as worthless as your mother.’

He was pushing him to his limits.

Levi had already passed them.

He liked to think that there was a dark abyss inside of him, a bottomless place where he could hide all his emotions and thoughts, they were useless, so he ignored them, he kept them away, far from the surface. Levi thought that he could detach from his pain, but it was a part of him, and if you stare into the abyss for too long, the abyss stares back at you. The Levi who grieved was still there, looking at him, the Levi who felt too much but said nothing wanted to get out, so he did, he escaped from the abyss and took control.

He run towards Kenny, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, knife in his hand, aiming for his heart, but Kenny was faster, quicker on his feet, he moved just in time. However, Levi still managed to scratch his shoulder, he teared his shirt and he could see the blood slipping, tainting the white fabric.

Kenny got mad. Levi had never seen him that furious. He grabbed his scrawny body and gave him the beating of his life. When he ended, Levi couldn’t even move, he was lying on the floor on a puddle of his own blood.

‘Listen kid, I don’t give a fuck about your shitty problems. You think you’re special? Guess what, you are a piece of shit, just like everyone else. Everyone here has issues, solve them or do whatever you want to do with them, but don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that again, because I’ll will leave you here to die, boy.’

That was the second lesson Kenny had told him: ‘Control is vital.’

He thought that by ignoring his feelings he was controlling them, but he was wrong, he realized that when those bottled emotions caused him to be bed ridden a few days.

Instead, he decided to let his feelings out in really calculated moments, he started to canalize all his rage into more productive stuff, like cleaning. He liked to think that by cleaning he had control over something, there was something cathartic to him in scrubbing floors, doing the laundry, and mopping floors. It was the Underground, it was filthy no matter how much effort he put into it, but it gave him something he could focus on, something he could use to let his frustrations out.

So, he cleaned, for his mother who deserved a better live.

For the innocent child that he once was, who had been stripped from everything he loved.

For Kenny, who he despised and was cruel and ruthless.

For all the things he had to do to survive.

He cleaned and cleaned, and he never had an outburst again. He was in control.

Looking back, he is sure that part of Kenny’s fury that day was that a kid made him bleed. You see, Kenny liked to think of himself as some kind of god, a ruler, someone who could control everybody, someone who was holding your fate between his calloused hands. And when he hurt Kenny, both of them realized two things, especially Levi, who discovered this: ‘Gods bleed to.’

Levi learnt his third lesson that day. No one could control him, the same way he couldn’t control anyone. You are the one who makes the decisions, just be sure to choose one you won’t regret. Kenny had no power over him, he wasn’t a god and if he was, Levi wouldn’t bow down to him.

Kenny learnt that Levi, that child, had a fire within he couldn’t tame, Levi wasn’t going to be a submissive, brainless follower. He had potential, he had willpower, he didn’t really need him, but the boy didn’t know it yet. So, when the moment came, he left. He had grown to care about his nephew, at least a little, but Levi was a survivor and Kenny knew he would fight with teeth and claws until the very end. Therefore, Kenny left him with the only person who could protect him: Levi himself.

When Kenny left him at his own, alone again in the Underground, he learnt his fourth lesson: ‘Love is a risk he wasn’t going to take again.’

  2. LOSERS

Stupid is next to ‘I love you.’ He was pretty fucking sure of that.

He made a bow to himself: he wasn’t going to love anyone ever again, people are bound to leave, and whenever they left, they took away a part of him, and he was already too broken for that. However, life happens, and it turns everything upside down, it doesn’t ask for consent, so his plan of never loving again was ruined sooner than he would’ve liked.

Furlan came first. He wasn’t looking for a companion, at all. A companion meant more people to care about, a distraction, and he didn’t need any of that. However, Furlan managed to convince him that he could be useful to him. Whenever he looks back, he thinks that both of them knew that Levi didn’t need anyone, he could survive on his own, he was tougher than anyone else in the Underground, but he was alone, so alone, and a part of him yearned so much for someone that he let Furlan come with him.  

Their relationship was weird at first, not sure where the boundaries of the other laid, what they could do or don’t. Furlan didn’t want to overstep and piss off Levi and Levi didn’t want to overshare with him, he didn’t want to show him his weaknesses, but at the same time he wanted to spend time with him.

He remembers that there were moments when Levi desired to say something, talk about pointless stuff, but he never did, after Kenny he was deprived of human contact that he even thought that he had lost his voice. However, as time passed them by, they fell into some type of routine, boundaries became clearer. Furlan started to get Levi, how he would never start a conversation no matter how bad he wanted; how his mind was always plotting something; how he always had an ace upon his sleeve… Furlan grew fond on him, he knew that there was a lot Levi wasn’t telling him, but from time to time he got to see a glimpse of all the man he was under his façade and layers of secrets, and he wanted to learn about him, he wanted to be his friend, he wanted to have someone to help and he wanted someone to take care of him, he wanted to stay.

On the other hand, Levi liked how Furlan seemed to know when he could talk and joke around and when he had to stay silent, it was like he understood him, Furlan was prudent and chill, thinking before acting, and he knew when to fight and when to give up. Levi started to care about him, a lot, against his better judgement, he just hoped he wouldn’t regret his choice.

Then, Isabel appeared on scene. Levi was happy enough with Furlan, he didn’t need someone else to worry about, that was more trouble, more chances to get hurt. However, he soon found he had a soft spot for the girl. She was so energetic, so bubbly, eyes always gleaming with hope, she was a ray of light in the darkest place. She was messy, reckless and wild, she balanced them out. When she asked to join them, Levi wanted to let out one of his characteristic ‘Tch’ and turn his back on her, there was no room for compassion in the Underground, but he couldn’t, he was weaker than he thought. He couldn’t leave her at her own knowing she could get herself killed, he didn’t want to be like Kenny, he wasn’t going to be like him.

The three of them became a gang, well, not just a gang, a family too. They looked after each other, they looked after Levi, just like his mother did. They were the best criminals in the Underground, and sometimes Levi felt like a god with the world at his feet. He shouldn’t have forgotten his third lesson: ‘Gods bleed too.’ He thought they were invincible, they weren’t, they were no gods, life wouldn’t bend at their will.

When Isabel and Furlan died, he didn’t even have proper bodies to bury, he just did two little makeshift graves and carved their name on the gray stone. He was the only person who would remember them, so he visited them at least once a week (he still does), mainly during his sleepless nights, when no one would ever question or notice his absence. Talking with them was the only reason why he hadn’t given up long time ago, he was their leader, he told them to always keep going, to never back down.

So, he kept going, for his mother, for Isabel and for Furlan. For the only people who ever loved him.

Maybe he didn’t really keep going, maybe he just let life pass by, what mattered was that he was alive and fighting for a purpose, he owed them that, their deaths wouldn’t be in vain.

Why did he always have to lose everything?

Why there was nothing good in store for him?

He was bound to lose to lose everything.

Stupid is next to I love you.

He was so fucking foolish.

3. TELL YOUR FRIENDS

The mission had been a carnage, a lot of fallen soldiers. He could still hear their screams and see the fear in their eyes, more images to haunt him while he was sleeping, as if they weren’t already enough. He couldn’t save anyone, he never could, he was human after all, even if some people thought about him like a god.

He had had a problem with his ODM gear during the mission, the gas cylinders were failing and wasting too much gas, so he ran out of it pretty quickly, which costed him a seven meters fall, breaking his right leg, his left arm, a few ribs and a concussion in the process. He could have died and a part of him wished he had, then, the pain would have ended. Luckily, Hange arrived just in time to help him, he still thinks that maybe they knew what was going on in his head, that he had thought about giving up right there, and that’s why as soon as they arrived back home, they sent him to the infirmary, not wanting to leave him alone. Hange still says it was because he couldn’t take proper care of his injuries by himself. They both knew he had had it way worse than that.

The infirmary was clean, and that meant a lot according to his standards, but your desk wasn’t, not at all and it was driving him crazy, if he could, he would get up and clean it himself. However, you seemed unphased by it, every day you would drop more documents on your table (but no document ever left, they just kept piling up); he had seen you drop coffee on some paper and not giving a fuck a single fuck about it; you had seven books on your table, none of them related with medicine, you just had them there because you wanted; and if you asked him what irked him the most, he would say the brush, you had a brush in your desk and it was full of hair. He couldn’t get his eyes of your desk, and if you ever noticed, you never did anything about it; or maybe you did notice and since you are a little shit, you just wanted to see how far you could go before he went feral. We will never know.

If you had been any other person, like one of the members of his squad, he would have said something way earlier, but you weren’t his subordinate, you were a medic and as far as he knew, he didn’t have the right to scold you at your own workplace.

You were competent, you just talked when necessary and you would always ask him if he wanted something, no matter how many times he had said ‘no’ and whenever Hange came to visit, you would always talk with them and ask them about their experiments and research. Hence, Hange thought you were the sweetest person ever, they had even told him that he better not be giving you any trouble.

You both had an easy routine. You would come in first hour in the morning, trying to be silent with no success at all, you were so noisy, luckily for him, he never sleeps more than four hours. You would sit on your desk and write a letter, every day, who the fuck had so many people to talk to or how many things worth telling did happen in your life? Then, you would go out to get him breakfast and you brought more documents with yourself, his breakfast always came with a cup of tea, a shitty cup of tea, but at least it wasn’t coffee or juice, he didn’t know if you were the one behind the tea, but if you were, he was glad you didn’t work on the kitchen. After breakfast, Hange would pay him a visit and talk with him, his squad would often visit him after training and Erwin once or twice a week, whenever his work let him a little free. At midday you would water the plants on the window, you had once called them ‘Asphodels’ and after watering them you disappeared, at the beginning he thought you just went to eat, later on, he would find why you did that. The rest of the day was the same, you wrote and read documents and he would either look annoyed at your desk or he would vert his gaze at the window to distract himself.

This routine changed the second week, because you asked him two questions that made him be more comfortable around you.

‘Why do you look at my desk as if it were making you sick?’

‘Tch, because is making me sick, it’s dirty as fuck.’

Okay, not the best words, but you asked, and he answered. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel better after telling you. You blushed a little and scratched your neck bashfully.

‘Sorry, I can be a little messy sometimes.’

‘I can see.’

That day you spent the evening emptying your desk, any other person would have asked you not to bother, but Levi couldn’t care, after all, his last thread of sanity depended on that desk. When you finished cleaning, you asked the second question.

‘You hate my tea, but you drink it anyways, why?’

He felt his ears getting a little red, and he just shrugged and looked away.

‘You are taking care of me, didn’t wanna be a bitch about it.’

You smiled, a smile brighter than the morning star, and for a fraction of second he forgot how the breath, but he obviously didn’t say a thing about it.

‘I promise you that tomorrow you’ll have the best tea ever.’

‘Tch, if you say so.’

He appreciated your gesture, kindness wasn’t something he was used to, it felt weird and strange to have someone to do good things just for the sake of doing them, it made him wary, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought that maybe you wanted to get something from him and that’s why you acted so nicely around him.

The next day, after writing your daily letter, at your then clean desk, you brought him breakfast with a steaming cup of tea. He drank the beverage under your expecting gaze and to his surprise it was nice, not the best tea ever made, but definitely not the worst.

‘It tastes better.’

‘Thanks, this time I followed the recipe.’ You admitted proudly.

‘How the fuck were you even making tea before?’

‘Instinct?’

He looked at you astonished, how come you were a doctor, but you couldn’t follow a three-step recipe? At that moment he thought his health was in the hands of dumbest medic in the area, however, he didn’t really care, well, at least not as much as he would have expected. You had something, an aura around your persona, that was soothing and endearing, rather than infuriating.

At the crack of dusk on that same day, he was the one who asked a question.

‘Who are you always writing?’

For a moment he swears he saw your happy demeanor quivering, as if he had opened a cage that should have remained closed, but you quickly fixed, the funny glint coming back at your eyes as fast as it had left. It was in that moment when he knew that you weren’t as shallow as he may have deemed you to be.

‘I’m just telling my friends about this annoying patient I have. Do you know he made me clean my office desk?’

Your voice was laced with amusement, you were trying to divert his attention to another topic, and he knew, but he was no one to press you about it.

‘Well, as soon as I’m free, I’m telling my friends about how my medic is a fucking shitshow.’ Too blunt, but you brushed it off.

‘They sound like a nightmare.’

‘They are.’

You smiled, yet again as blinding as the sun.

He didn’t smile, he didn’t even grimace, his face was as stoic as always, but for a split of second, a smile nearly slipped in.

To his surprise, he actually talked about you to his friends. When he had the medical lease, the first thing he did was visit Isabel and Furlan’s impromptu graves and talk about you. It wasn’t a lot, he just mentioned you a few times. It didn’t mean a thing, and at the same time, it meant everything.

 4. OFTEN

It didn’t mean a thing.

Not a single thing.

It was unimportant.

He was like that with everyone.

Except he wasn’t and he knew it.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He would always find himself at your door, not because he was sick or harmed, he just felt the need to see you. He didn’t even talk with you that much, he wasn’t good at opening up or even small talk. He was foul-mouthed, snarky and his words could cut deeper than a knife. You were soft, kind, funny and there weren’t uncomfortable silences with you, your presence was comforting. Levi didn’t get why he felt that way about you, he barely knew you, but you had something that drew him in, maybe it was the normalcy you brought him. You were a doctor, you healed people, you tended their injuries; you hadn’t seen the titans, you hadn’t seen comrades die at their merciless hands, you didn’t know what was outside the walls and he liked that. You were an escape. It was as if his life was only centered around Titans and his existence had no other point but to kill or think about to kill Titans: Hange were always babbling about Titans; his paperwork was always a painful reminder of fallen mates; Erwin was always tracing missions and plans; and the whole point of his squad was training to defeat those beasts. He never had a break, but visiting you felt like it.

He knocked at your door and it opened, you were at your desk, which was an unorganized mess then again, humming some song he didn’t know while you were reading some medical reports. And the asphodels in the window looked beautiful as always.

‘Hi, Levi.’ You looked up and gave him a smile.

Your smiles.

Oh man, he took them in like a dehydrated man would savor the first droplets of rain.

He just nodded as a salute and walked towards the window to see the asphodels.

‘Why asphodels?’ he asked, you loved those flowers, and they weren’t necessary the most beautiful.

To him you were more like yellow lilies, he had read somewhere that yellow lilies meant joy and happiness. They always brought a simile to one’s face because they are the true depiction of the sun, just like you were.

‘I don’t know, they are special’ you said with a small voice, the same haunted look in your eyes, the same that appeared when he asked about your letters.

‘I guess they are.’

A comfortable silence fell in the room. He was getting used to these havens of peace.

That night at dinner, he was sitting next to Erwin, Hange in front of him, looking at him quizzically.

‘What’s going between you and y/n? You’re always at their place.’ They ask.

‘Tch, nothing, I just visit them often.’

Lies

‘So, there is no ulterior motive, like, I don’t know, our Short king having a crush?’ Levi sometimes forgot how punchable Hange’s face was.

‘No.’

More lies.

Something was going on, they both knew, but he was too scared to think about what it was.

 5. THE HILLS

Another fight. More deaths. What was the point of it? He felt like he was fighting for a pointless cause, the more deaths, the less they knew. He would have to send more letters to the families, telling them that their sons and daughters fought bravely until their last breath and sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. However, broken families would come to him and ask him if it was worth it, if the death of their children, cousins, brothers and parents brought them answers, if their deaths meant that humanity was closer to taste the freedom they longed for. He had always said that no death was in vain, but he was starting to question that.

He had barely seen you after the mission, he retreated to his quarters, drowning himself in reports and regrets, if he had been better, he could have saved more lives, but he wasn’t enough, he was no hero, he was a human. He had been fighting his whole life and he just wanted it to stop, he wanted peace and tranquility, not more deaths at his shoulders, no more ghosts to haunt him at the end of the day.

He never slept, at least not for more than a few hours. However, after a mission he didn’t sleep at all, the images of his comrades’ deaths still fresh on his mind, their screams still piercing his ears, his sanity vanished a little bit more every time he tried to close his eyes, so he just laid awake looking at the roof, thinking about all the things he could have done to save them, repeating their names as if he was asking for their forgiveness.

Sometimes it all got too much, and he needed to walk to clear his mind, there were nights when he walked for hours with no direction at all, but that night he did have a direction: your office. He didn’t really know why he was doing it, but he was too tired to turn back and ask himself why you. He thought that you would probably be asleep, but to his surprise there was a dim light coming from your office, so he knocked, just like all of those times before, and your soft voice told him to come in.

He had never seen you so disheveled and tired, dark bags under your eyes, traces of tears on your face and bloodshot eyes. He also noticed four new asphodels on your desk. He looked at them and then he looked at you. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t, so you spoke.

‘My regrets follow you to the grave.’ He barely heard you.

‘What?’

‘That’s what asphodels mean, you asked me about them once, you remember?’

He nodded, that’s all he could do.

‘I couldn’t save them, I tried, but I wasn’t good enough.’ You broke down to tears.

He wasn’t good at processing his own emotions, let alone other people’s. What was he supposed to do? He knew that people hugged to show support, but as he would say, he was ‘emotionally constipated’, so he just stayed there, looking at you.

Do something.

Do something.

Do something.

But he remained stiff, it was like watching the scene happen in third person.

‘I’m sorry, I know this is making you uncomfortable, it’s just that it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s been a long day for me to.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You told me that asphodels mean ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’, that’s why you have them? Because you feel guilty?’

‘I plant one for every soldier that dies on my watch.’ That was the first time you opened up with him.

‘I keep the badges of their uniforms.’ That was the first time he opened up with you.

Right then everything shifted.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ He knew those feelings, the remorse and the guilt, he was so painfully familiar with them that they had become a part of his being.

‘It wasn’t your fault either, Levi.’

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

Your words echoed in his mind like a drum and for a moment he believed them.

You came closer and you wrapped your arms around him, he tried to respond, embracing you in strangely, you laughed at his antics and in that moment, he wanted to disappear. You smiled and you readjusted his arms around your waist. He brought you closer, slowly, not wanting to scare you away and break the moment. You laid your head in his chest, right above his heart, and he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart beating wildly. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin and your smell intoxicating him. For a moment he felt like home, even though he didn’t understand what ‘being home’ meant, but it had to be very similar to that: comforting, reassuring, peaceful, safe.

That night, he spent what felt like hours holding you, until you had to part separate ways, the only witnesses were the asphodels and the hills at the distance.

  6. ACQUAINTED

What are we?

Levi couldn’t stop asking himself that question.

Friends didn’t have what you two had. Maybe he wasn’t the most amicable person, but he had had some friends in his life: he once had Isabel and Furlan when he was younger, and now he had Hange and Erwin, and maybe he could even consider his squad friends. And none of what he felt for them was like what he felt for you.

He tried to make sense of his thoughts by writing them, but words weren’t his forte and he just ended more and more confused.

You were nice.

You were beautiful.

You made him laugh, well, not laugh, but close enough.

You were kind.

He appreciated you, he cared for you and he wanted to protect you, but he also felt the same towards Erwin, Hange and his squad. Then, if it was the same, why it was completely different.

He kept visiting you, everything looked like it was the same, but everything had changed. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if something was about to happen, the tides were shifting, he could feel it. There were words unsaid lingering in the atmosphere and sooner or later, someone would have to utter them. But who? And if you spoke them, what would he say?

He also spent a lot of his time thinking about that too, if you happened to confess your feelings for him, if you had them, would he be able to respond them? Normal people would try, give it a shot and see what would happen, what the relationship had in store, let things flow; but he wasn’t normal, he was far from normal, he knew he wasn’t the easiest to love. He was rude, mean, a control freak, he wasn’t the one for big displays of affection, he was the last person someone would want as a partner. People yearned for epic love stories, something that could take your breath away and he wouldn’t be able to do that, he wouldn’t be able to give you the bare minimum.

Also, after all the people he had lost, he didn’t want your name to be added to that list. He preferred the uncertainty of your relationship than the possibility of losing you. If he left more people in, more people he could lose. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were already in, but there were still boundaries between both of you.

He had also fantasized about laying himself bare in front of someone, share all of his trauma and memories, share the burden with someone, but who would love all of him? If he couldn’t even stand himself most of the days, how could he expect that someone would   do it?

‘If you were a flower, I think you would be a gladiolus.’ You would always blurt nonsense out of the blue, but for some reason, he found it endearing instead of annoying.

‘Tch, what’s even that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just, gladius symbolize strength, generosity, faithfulness and I guess those are things I associate with you.’ Your cheeks were tainted with the softest tones of red and you weren’t looking at him, your gaze was fixed on your paperwork.

Those words had a way deeper meaning, he knew it and you knew it, it was as if you were testing the water by putting the tips of your feet in it. As per usual he didn’t know what to say, what was he supposed to say to that? Thanks? I think I may be falling for you?

‘Sorry, I made things weird, I should just-’ you couldn’t finish because he had started talking.

‘I think you would be a yarrow flower.’ Amazing, now he was the one talking nonsense.

Not so long ago he pictured you as yellow lilies, joy and happiness, but after getting to know you better, he realized that that description was too shallow for what you meant to him. He didn’t know a lot about flowers, he wasn’t really into botany, but he had heard about yarrow before, he had heard merchants inside Sina call them ‘plant doctor’, since they would be often placed near other plants to keep the pests away, he had also heard that it was considered invasive too, because how easily it spread. Therefore, the association came quickly to him, you were healing, a solace from the cruelty of his world; and you were invasive, because he couldn’t be away from you, you consumed him.

‘That means a lot.’ Your blush was now more pronounced now and he wondered what you had made out of his words.

He felt a wave of panic travel through his body, maybe that statement was too deep, maybe he screwed it all, so he decided to excuse himself and ran away from the situation he had created. He had told you he was going to his room, he lied, he was going to the library, he needed to see what his words had meant. He wasted all his evening looking for books about the meaning of flowers, he sure looked like a madman, he hadn’t even gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner, he needed to found answers, and he found them at two a.m.

“The secret language of flowers” said the title, he opened the book and he started looking for the yarrow’s meaning.

Healing and Good Health

Courage and War

Everlasting Love

When he read the last symbolism of the flower, his heart stopped for a whole minute, did he just declare his feelings, that he wasn’t ever sure of, to you? He wanted to disappear in the spot, just vanish into the air.

He went to his room, holding the book close to his chest. He spent the rest of the night reading the book, he wouldn’t mess up again, if he ever wanted to talk about flowers with you, he would be informed. When the sun rose, his head was buzzing with flower meanings, and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about you while reading some of them.

At breakfast he did go to the Mess Hall and took his usual place.

‘Where were you yesterday at dinner?’ asked Erwin.

‘With his girlfriend.’ Replied Hange with a big smile.

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ He said with a grunt.

‘What are they then?’ Hange was using the tone, the one which meant “I know you’re hiding something, and I won’t stop pestering you until I discover it.”

‘We are just acquainted.’

‘Liar.’

 7. CAN’T FEEL MY FACE

He remembered how there were days when Kenny would drink himself to oblivion, Levi didn’t understand why he did it. He didn’t see the point of passing out in the floor, and when he asked, Kenny answered that ‘his vices kept him sane’. It still made no sense to him, how a man could be so cunning and sharp, while he wasted his nights and days with alcohol, women and many other things that Levi wasn’t interested on trying. He had seen Kenny drunk and it was far from having control. The first lesson Kenny had told him was that control is vital, then, how come he was powerless in his own life, letting alcohol take control of him.

‘You’re old enough to try it, boy. Take some if you want.’

The first time Kenny offered him alcohol, he had declined, he had said no, and Kenny had shrugged it off, as if saying: ‘more for me.’ He wouldn’t get it, it didn’t make sense, Kenny, who prided himself on his cold-blood and his steel nerves, would renounce to that control so easily, he didn’t want to be like that, never in a million years, he would never give up his self-control.

Until he did.

He had lost control. And he now understood Kenny.

He knew he should distance himself from you, he didn’t want more Furlan’s and Isabel’s, he was getting dangerously close to you and he didn’t want that. He should run away, disappear. You were kind and sweet, you would find someone else to feel the void he would inevitably leave. He had always been the one being left behind, and he survived, you would too. Also, it’s not as if he contributed a lot to your life. He was sure you both would be better with the other far away, I mean, the facts were there. Actually, they had been spiraling in his head for a while.

Then, if he knew all of that, why was he helping you cut clean bandages, especially so close to you that he could smell your shampoo? Oh yeah, because you asked him to, as easy as that, all his conviction melted away from every fiber of his body.

Why did he do that? Why was he so helpless around you? Oh yeah, because you made him feel so damn good. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t seem to notice, you acted as if it was nothing, you had power over him, you had Humanity’s Strongest at his knees.

‘My family died a long time ago, I couldn’t save them, I moved in with my aunt and I decided that I’d study medicine for them.’ You said out of the blue.

You cut one bandage.

‘The letters I write are for them. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel closer to them.’

You cut another bandage.

He didn’t say a thing.

He hated himself, any other person would have hugged you or said something, he just stayed there, frozen and acting as cold as always. Why did you confide in him something so personal? He wasn’t the one to go when you are sad, he didn’t even know how to process his own trauma and baggage most of the time. What was he supposed to do?

On the other hand, you trusted Levi more than anyone in your life. He brought you peace and solace, something you thought you would never have.

You lost your family when you were really young, always feeling guilty for being the one who survived, and you promised to yourself you would vow your life to help the others, never putting your needs first. When you joined the military, you watched many soldiers die on your hands, you could still hear their last words, how scare they were, how they didn’t want to die like that, alone and far away from their family; you could also recall their mutilated bodies; and you could also remember how many of them would survive the Titans but lose the fights against their own mind and end up being another fallen soldier that died for nothing. You loved your job, but it also killed a part of you every day, there were no victories on a war, and you knew it. That’s why you picked up gardening, you planted a flower for every soldier who died, something to remember them.

When you met Levi, you admired him, you had heard the stories about him, his courage, mood changes, sharp tongue, skills, intelligence… You would be lying if you said he didn’t make you curious, you were used to soldiers haunted by the horrors they had faced, but something about him was different, maybe because you saw yourself in those grey eyes. You two were similar, you both had so much pent up that you could not talk about, you had an image to keep, and it was exhausting. He had a name to uphold, people looked up to him, if he failed, if he crumbled, everyone else would; you were a doctor, and no matter how hard things were, you had to be strong for your patients, never showing how much their pain took a toll on you. You could let your mask down, because even though he didn’t talk too much or overall understand why you were sharing that, it felt good, liberating.

Sometimes, he would also talk about him, not a lot, but enough to make you feel understood, and those moments, when he showed the man underneath the façade, glimpses of his true persona, those few minutes, sometimes even seconds, were responsible for your growing feelings for the captain.

‘It’s not stupid, I talk to my dead friends’ graves.’ He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t baring a piece of him in front of you.

Those kind of flashes of the man he was underneath took your breath away every single time.

You came close to him, slowly, testing the waters, not wanting to scare him away. Maybe it was too forward, too reckless, too much at a time, but he didn’t move. You brought your hand to his cheek. He didn’t jump away. You looked into his eyes, pools of mercury. He held your gaze, expecting your next move. You could feel the tension. He could too.

‘They would be really proud of you.’ You said, voice thin and trembling.

He was silent. Your words caught him of guard.

He was feeling too much. His heartbeat was erratic, beating wildly, he could hear it. He felt the blood boiling under his skin, he was so hot, he was sweating. He couldn’t move, but he felt his body trembling. He could feel the room closing on him, trapping him. He wasn’t in control.

It was a too familiar feeling, one he had experienced a thousand times before.

‘Levi, are you okay? I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.’ You said worriedly.

He didn’t know what to do, he just wanted the pain in his chest to end.

You were too close. You were trapping him too. So, he pushed you away from you and run from the infirmary. You couldn’t see him like that, no one could.

Why did he share that with you? Why did you get too close? Were you going to kiss him?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was he like that?

Why did he ruin things?

Why did he lose control of himself? He couldn’t even feel his face when you touched it.

He felt pathetic. He felt like the little kid he once was.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

If he was with you, he wasn’t in control. And if he lost his control, then he would have nothing.

He had to get away from you, because you were stripping him from the only thing he had: his control.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Rosie Holland x Linus Perry

-Warnings: References to sex, language, typos, sad thoughts, attempted suicide, vomiting

-Words: 4.4K

A/n: Thank you so mucg guys with all the live support. Finally done, yay, with part 1

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Words: 4.4K

Four years had passed and Rosie was the only one to stick around. Everything had changed. You and Tom were currently on your trip around the world. Traveling everywhere from Cuba to Greece. Taking in sights of the world.

Embarking on journey covering 3 continents and 10 countries so far. You had already visited the Taj Mahal in India, the Amalfi Coast for some sun, and Iceland just for the blue lagoon hot springs. You and Tom were having the time of your lives, it being the perfect distraction from everything back home.

Rosie was running the mob along with her new right hand and consigliere, Linus. Rosie had been taking on the mantle as the new leader of the Holland mob. Picking up where Parker left off. Trying to do him justice. Tom had helped her learn the ropes but she always had that fiery personality desired for a mob persona.

After four years, Rosie learned to embrace her grief instead of shoving it away, she began to visit Parker’s grave more and more. Tried to every week, but life got in the way. She would bring a new set of flowers to freshen up the old ones.

She knew today would be especially hard, every year it was impossible. Rosie could barely get through the day. Today was her 20th birthday, marking 4 years of celebrating without Parker.

Rosie and Henry’s relationship had grown into one full of misery. Trapped in a loveless relationship, but he was still her best friend. With just one look he would know what she was thinking.

Over the past couple years, Henry has been so obsessed with keeping her safe that it was driving her mad. Rosie understood that Henry didn’t want to lose her like he lost Parker, but Rosie ran a mob and danger followed her everywhere. They started drifting apart when everything happened with the Holland family, creating unfixable cracks in their foundation.

Lately, Rosie had been feeling someone watching her every move. Following her whenever she would be downtown. Feeling a presence she hasn’t felt in a while. Constantly shivering in fear, feeling as though she was observed. From then on, every move she made was calculated and thought out.

When Rosie first took on the mantle, she cleaned house. Eliminating those whose loyalty would always lie with Tom. Trying to affirm the fact that she was so much more than just Tom’s daughter. She had let William go and few others because she brought in Linus.

Even after starting her new regime, things have been a bit off, lately. She hasn’t been sleeping through the night. She’d jolt out of sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. Henry would be startled awake as well by her movement as move to comfort her.

“Roo, you okay?” Henry asked groggily, yawning a bit. Rosie gasping to catch her breath. Her dreams were supposed to be an escape but now they were doing more harm than good. “I don’t know. I keep having these dreams about Parker. Like he was trying to tell me something,” Rosie said, gathering her bearings. It wasn’t everyday she was visited by her deceased twin brother. “From beyond the grave?…Rosie, he’s gone,” Henry pondered. “I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. That he is… he’s.”

“What? Still alive? Honey, we buried him. You cried over him. If he was still alive don’t you think we would’ve shown his face by now. Wilson and Carter are gone, they have been for awhile now,” Henry explained, hoping it would bring her some solace. Henry wasn’t blind to the change in her demeanor, she did open up to him about being followed everywhere she went. “I guess you’re right. But my dreams feel so real,” Rosie whispered, lying back down. Ready to drift off into a deep sleep. One not tainted by the memory of Parker. “Go, back to sleep baby.” Henry said, he knew they would be getting up in a few hours anyway. Tomorrow was a very big day. Henry knew he and Rosie had been drifting but he was all set to give her the best birthday ever.

Henry had bought tickets for you and Tom to fly in for her birthday and stay for awhile. This time of year was hard for all of you but it wasn’t fair to Rosie. The day that is supposed to be about her has always been shared but now no one dared acknowledge it. It was just a reminder of what had been lost.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday,” Henry whispered, peppering her face in kisses as the morning sun shone through the curtains.

“Thank you,” Rosie sighed. Every year was a challenge. It got a little better every year but she knew she would never fully accept his absence.

“What do you have planned today?” Henry inquired, he was always one for big gestures. He absolutely hated that she no longer enjoyed her birthday.

As a kid she loved the idea of turning a year older, getting to grow up and getting loads of presents of course. You always made the priority of throwing the most perfect themed parties for Rosie and Parker. One year they had a pirate themed pool party with a treasure hunt and another a circus/carnival theme with fair games and a petting zoo. You loved going all out for their birthday. Just spoiling them in general.

Rosie and Parker, also Tom, can’t forget about him, made life worth living. You and Tom did everything for your kids, never wanting them to feel an ounce of sadness.

But the times had changed, you were no longer the mother to a son. It was just Rosie and you thanked God everyday that she was still there but your heart will forever be scarred.

Scars take forever to heal, sometimes never. There will never be a day when you don’t miss Parker or he doesn’t cross your mind. Everything you did from the moment he died was for him, in one way or another. You knew the grief would never stop but you hoped Rosie would one day be able to move on with life.

“You know…” Rosie murmured. “Oh yeah, say hi for me,” Henry nodded along remembering Rosie was going to spend the day next to her better half, Parker.

Rosie proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. She wore a tight grey dress showing off the perfect curves of her body. And a pair of black high heels to complete her power woman ensemble. “Henry, you aren’t throwing me a party right? I really don’t want one,” Rosie inquired. Rosie would prefer to have all birthdays pass and wash away but she knew Henry wouldn’t allow that. At the most she would have a nice dinner with him and watch a movie.

“You’ll just wait to find out,” Henry grinned cheekily. In reality he was throwing her surprise party to help her find the joy in her birthday again.

“Henry seriously, not this year,” Rosie announced. “It’s never any year. You haven’t celebrated in 3 years. You need to get over this.”

“Get over what? The death of my twin brother?” Rosie asked, astounded at Henry’s previous statement. The nerve he had, wow.

“Roo, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to apologize but Rosie left in a huff.

“Talk later, Linus is waiting for me,” Rosie yelled, already walking out of the room. “Linus, you ready to go?” Rosie said, as she found him drinking coffee in her kitchen. He sat at the bar, legs dangling off the chair as she came down. “Yes, Roo,” he said, a little out of breath from taking the awe of her beauty.

“Please don’t call me that around Henry… What’s on the agenda?” Rosie asked Linus as she poured herself her own cup of coffee.

“Well, Shaw owes you 3 million and the deadline you gave him expired,” Linus explained, he knew Rosie hated having things held over her head. She would prefer to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

“Well then, let’s go pay him a visit. I could use a drink. Afterwards, can you drop me off at the cemetery?” “Of course, Roo,” Linus said. Rosie huffed in response, rolling her eyes at the name. Linus loved to get a rise out of Rosie. Her remarks to his comments were just a sign of their playful banter.Rosie’s relationship with Linus was complicated. They were partners, most of the time.

Rosie had gone really dark over the past years. There were days where she refused to get out of bed. Sitting in bed wasting the entire day away. Henry would come home from work and try his best to comfort her but after Parker he was just as lost as her. They lived in the same house but not truly together. Not as lovers, maybe as roommates.

All Rosie could feel were thoughts of hopelessness, desolation, and misery. Never being able to find that light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t deserve to find it, thinking she was the one who pushed you and Tom away. Blaming herself for Parker. All these feelings and Henry wasn’t there, too busy with his own life.

One day, Rosie had gotten real low. Couldn’t find a way out so she went to the gun room grabbed the closest pistol, a bottle of scotch, a glass and sat in Tom’s office. She rested on Tom’s chair trying to find the will to end it all. To point the pistol and pull the trigger.

It would be so easy, the flick of a finger. No more pain. She tried not to think about everything she was giving up. Never seeing you or Tom again, or Henry. Never loving him again, if they ever did manage to find their way back to each others arms. Never experiencing the things that made life worth living.

All her thoughts were halted as Linus barged in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the broken girl hold a gun unto her temple, its safety clicked off. The room was cold as an icy chill ran down his spine.

“Rosie, what are you doing!?!” Linus thundered, trying to stop her before she pulled the trigger. “I don’t know. I think I’m trying to end it all,” Rosie whispered as tears streamed down her face. Deep down she didn’t want to pull the trigger, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“End what all? Your life?” Linus asked, trying to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Something had to happen that pushed her to this point. Rosie had to be drowning and calling out for help but no one came. “No, it was never about killing myself. It was just about ending the pain and suffering,” she cried.

“Rosie, listen to me. There is so much more you have to live for. This will pass. Think about everything you are giving up.” Linus tried to appeal to the people she loved, you, Tom, and Henry. Losing Rosie would no longer make you a mother. How could Rosie take that away from you?

“I already have and it hasn’t, for 2 years. How do you know it will get any better?” Rosie begged for a true answer. She had been slumping around, letting the days pass her by as she stood silent, screaming non-vocally for help. Trapped in an asylum of misery. “I don’t. But I’ll be there to help you,” Linus exclaimed, giving her the truthful response she wanted. Rosie just needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this world anymore. “No, you won’t. You’ll just leave like everyone else. Henry doesn’t love me anymore. My parents left. I’m all alone.” “Roo, you aren’t alone. Just hand me the gun and we can work this out. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here,” Linus pleaded. That was the first time he had used that nickname. The name had been reserved for only Henry, Parker and you. In that moment Rosie saw someone she missed so dearly in Linus, Parker. Parker was the only person who was 100% there for her. He was there to talk her off the ledge. He was there at her weakest and in a split second he was standing in front of her.

Rosie gave in, removing the gun from her temple, clicking the safety one and handing it over. She slowly stood up, coming over to Linus and collapsed in his arms. Rosie whispered a small “I missed you” as he held the broken girl. He was the only one who could pull her out. Not Henry, god she wished it was Henry. Linus understood her pain and didn’t try to fix everything.

Henry was the opposite. Constantly worrying about Rosie and trying to find a solution for everything. Things from the slightest backache to feelings of hopelessness. Rosie didn’t need fixing she just needed to be heard and Linus made sure she was. At Harmon’s, the bar was quite empty. Just Shaw and a few of his men. Shaw has borrowed money from Rosie to clear of a few charges. The Holland name had some pull in the legal community. Dating back to Dom’s days but Tom mostly laid down roots.

Linus entered first, firing two shots to take out Shaw’s capos. “Jesus Christ,” yelled Shaw as his protection thudded against the floor.

Rosie followed Linus in, making her presence known, “Shaw, you know I’m not a fan of people not staying true to their word. Do you have my money?”

“Rosie, doll. I paid you in full already. If this just your sad attempt to stir something up we can work this out another time. Shoo, let me finish my drink,” Shaw snickered. “Shaw, I know your games. You have 3 minutes to transfer my money right now. One for each million. I have Linus checking for a deposit of 3 million, make this simple and do it,” Rosie stated with an unchanging expression. “I need more time, that’s not enough. It’s all in separate accounts,” Shaw asserted, his voice starting to waver as he stared down the barrel of her pistol. “Well then, I’d hurry if I were you. Here’s your phone. Just wire the money… Starting now,” Rosie exclaimed as Linus devoted his stare to watch. Glancing at the seconds tick away.

“Fine, I’m going,” Shaw screamed, about to crack under the pressure.

“2 minutes left,” Linus chimed in. “Okay, I’m just inputing the dollar amount, it’s a lot of zeros.” Shaw tried to explain. He was about to lose his life because he was slow.

“50 secs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6—“

“I’m done,” Shaw said, letting out the breath he was holding.

“That was fast but not fast enough,” Rosie whispered raising her gun square to the back of his head. Her finger slipped to the trigger and fired a shot.

BANG

“Wow, I didn’t think you actually kill him,” Linus said, impressed by her ruthlessness.

“He was getting on my nerves, besides he will never borrow money from me again if he is dead,” Rosie chuckled. “You know I found that really hot,” Linus whispered in her ear. “You always do.” Rosie grinned at his advances, trying to pull her close to his chest. “Hey, this can’t keep happening.”

“Oh, come on. You say that every time. I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

“Well, you are going to have to. I was clear about what this was. So I’m going to ask you this once more time, what do you want?” “I want you.” “Well you can have me in the bathroom in 2 minutes.” “Roo, you’re too good to me,” Linus smirked, following her as she glided to the restroom.

Everything lasted about 30 mins. They were in and out in a flash. The bar now smelled of sex and a dead bodies. Linus was the first to finish, coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled as hell. Sporting the same juts had a quickie look. Linus went to pull the car around after fixing his hair in the mirror.

Linus would never be Henry and that was a good thing, Linus was different. By no circumstances was Rosie in love with Linus or will ever be in love with him, he was merely a distraction. Rosie knew her relationship with him was wrong but he made her feel alive once more.

Rosie emerged from bathroom breathing heavy, almost gasping for air, with sweat glistening on her chest. She straightened out her dress as combed down her hair. Stepping out of the doorway, the smell of a fresh rotting body hit her.

Rosie immediately turned around and lunged for the toilet. She had been in the business for 3 years and never before had her body reacted this way. She hurled into the toilet for a good ten minutes. Eventually bringing her head out of the toilet bowl to wipe off her mouth. The air was now coupled with sex, dead bodies and vomit. She was clueless to what forced her to keep her head in a toilet bowl.

After her nausea spell passed her, she had Linus drop her off near the cemetery. “Oh, you can drop me off here. I need something from the pharmacy anyways,”Rosie informed Linus. She was planning on picking up something for her stomach, it was very unlikely for her to throw up suddenly.

“Ok, Roo. Do you need a ride home?” Linus questioned.

“No, Jared is supposed to pick me up. Thank you,” Rosie exclaimed, getting out of the car. “Alright. Happy birthday by the way. Can I have a kiss goodbye?” “Thank you and no. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah for the party,” Linus called out slowly driving away. “Wait! What did you say?” Rosie remarked but he was already long gone.

Rosie was mentally kicking herself, she didn’t have the willpower to deal with a party tonight. She specifically told Henry, not to throw one but since when did he listen to her.

Their road to ultimately heartbreak was a two way street. Both of them had done something to warrant the loveless relationship. Rosie admitted to herself, that she eventually did stop trying. She stopped constantly asking if Henry wanted to go out for dinner and what time he would be home. Rosie prefers to blame Henry but in reality, she was then one who let go first.

Rosie stopped showing him love, too distraught by his every move because it was a constant reminder her brother wasn’t there anymore. Henry would try to work him into every little conversation, remembering Parker in everything. It grew too much for Rosie. Rosie had never been one for confronting her feelings, preferring to shove them down but how could she, when Henry would never shut up about Parker.

Parker was the main reason a wedge had been driven between them, but she wouldn’t dream of blaming her dead brother. Who couldn’t even defend himself. Rosie needed a reset after Parker but Henry was stuck living in the past.

Rosie was ready to start her life with Henry after graduation but he couldn’t let go. After a while, Rosie became just like him. Stuck drifting into a void of pure sadness. Rosie couldn’t let go, along with Henry. Their lives went in different directions, Rosie was blossoming into a ruthless leader who would only act soft around Parker, vowing to visit his grave everyday. And Henry got left behind at some point, not seeing how he fit in her life anymore.

In the pharmacy she scanned the aisles for some sort of quick remedy. If Henry was throwing her a surprise party, one she specifically asked not for. Rosie didn’t have days to recuperate, maybe a few hours.

She found the largest bottle of Pepto-Bismol and stopped by the card aisle. Carefully grasping a birthday card for her favorite person. One that was funny yet endearing. Parker was addicted to all the corned jokes she would crack. She made her way to the register. In front of her stood a little old woman, she wore a purple floral dress and her white stained hair was pulled into a clip.

“Just this for you sweetie? Oh, who’s birthday is it?” Asked the little lady, referring to the birthday card Rosie grabbed for Parker.

“My brother’s and um, could I also get this,” Rosie responded as her eyes glanced below her. Skimming over the candy bars, gum packets and eventually landing on a pregnancy test. Come to think of it, Rosie was late about a week and a half.

“Of course, honey. Would you like to use the restroom?” Queried the lady. Rosie nodded in response. She finished paying and quickly made her way to the restroom. Following the directions on the box carefully, she needed to be a hundred percent sure, before she told anyone.

Right around the corner was the cemetery. She glided through iron gates, walking across the cobble stone path before she came upon the place she loved most in the world. The place where she would hold nothing back, spilling everything to him.

Life of a mob boss was dangerous but things started to seem eerie for Rosie. She would feel weird presences or someone watching her at eerie times. The same feeling plagued her at the cemetery, today. She knelt down to the headstone, engraved in it read “Here Lies Parker Jackson Holland, Taken from us too soon, a son, a brother, and a friend.”

“Hey, P. You probably get tired of me visiting you. Everyday I’m here and sometimes I think I do it for my benefit more than yours. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and most likely you are with Charlotte. I’m happy for you, Parker. No matter how much I wish you were here with me, I know that you are happy that you escaped this life. Happy 20th birthday.” Rosie whispered, fixing the flowers that began to wilt from yesterday.

“I have some really amazing news to share with you, but it will have to wait till next time. You can’t be the first person I tell, I’m sorry. He deserves to know before you…. Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened at work…”

This is the one thing that brought Rosie solace. She persistently blames herself for that fateful night 3 years ago. Rosie would spend hours kneeling next to his headstone. She would tell him about her life and read off the postcards you and Tom sent from your travels. Talking to him as if he was still there.

Rosie glanced at her watch, it was half past five and she hadn’t even called Jared yet to pick her up. “I’m sorry P, I gotta go. Henry, god love him but, that bastard is throwing me a birthday party. I guess I should at least make an appearance. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” Rosie said, walking towards the parking lot.

She stood under the gate for ten minutes waiting for Jared to arrive and escort her home. The weather completely shifted as the sun set around her. The once blue sky changed to one painted with vibrant yellows and pinks. The sky was a sight not to be missed but she could do without the freezing winds that accompanied.

A chill ran down her spine as she waited in the darkness. Feeling a sensation that only warranted panic. Rosie felt someone watching her once again. Maybe from a far or up close, but she definitely wasn’t alone. It was silly that she let feelings like those get to her. She was a mob boss for god sakes, scaring even the most menacing of men into submission.

Rosie eyes started darting everywhere a noise left. In the corner of her eye she caught a figure drenched in shadows approaching. She tried to scramble for her gun, but soon realized she left it in Linus’s car.

The stranger kept making advances and managed to get to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. Causing her to be consumed in darkness as her body grew limp.

Back at the manor, Henry was setting everything up perfectly. His mission was to make Rosie love her birthday once more. While Henry was working hard at hanging the birthday banner and decorating every corner with balloons, Linus was no help at all. Lounging on the couch and finishing a beer.

“So are you going to pick up Rosie and get off your ass?” Henry barked, pulling the coffee out from under Linus, causing him to spill his beer.

“Seriously, dude. What’s your problem?” Linus snapped.

“My problem is my girlfriend isn’t here. Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” “No, Jared is.” “Linus, Jared is here. He has been for a few hours. Where is she?” Henry questioned, starting to worry. “I don’t know. Last, I left her at the cemetery.” “Henry! It’s so good to see you,” you cheered as Tom and you walked in. Hugging Henry after not seeing him for awhile. It still pained you to visit, traveling was the perfect distraction.

“Hope you have been taking care of yourself, son. Where’s Rosie?” Tom questioned. “Yeah, I’ve been good. At the moment, I don’t know where she is. She’s missing,” Henry concluded. You and Tom stood completely still as you processed the news. It wasn’t everyday that your daughter would disappear into thin air, but her job did keep her life in danger.Rosie missing was uncommon. It had happened once or twice in the past but that was 3 years ago. So much had changed, for the better. Yet, you were once again in the same place, in the house you left because everything was too familiar. Rosie missing was all too familiar.

Rosie came to. Opening her eyes to a place she chose to forget. For all she knew it was an exact replica. Warehouses riddled all of London’s ports, she could be anywhere.

“Text your driver and tell him Henry picked you up for a special birthday dinner,” Rosie’s kidnapper barked, thrusting a phone in front of her.

“Really? You kidnapped me? After 3 years of being leader of London’s most feared mob, it’s like been there done that. Do you want money or something? I have a party to get to.” Rosie quipped, annoyed with they man’s pursuits.

“Oh, I know. I believe happy birthday is granted. 20 years is a milestone.”

“Whatever, I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The stranger pestered on. Rosie had learned lesson from the last time she was restrained to chair, rope around her wrists and ankles, ceasing blood flow. This time it was zip ties, a little basic for any mobster she has had a run with.

“No. I want you to let me go. Seriously, what do you want? I don’t think you know who I am. Or who my father is,” Rosie asserted.

“A moment alone together is all I ask and I know exactly who you are and who your dad is. Correction, who our dad is.”

“Parker.”

A/n: Finally the end. Alright, I'm going to bed. There is no set schedule for the sequel series, I'm just going to post a chapter when I finish writing it. Let me know if you like to be tagged in the sequel chapters.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

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[miscellaneous-bnha]

Poly! Ghosts Hawks/Shouto x Fem! Reader

Commissioned by @bobawithpomegranate

CW: Nothing too bad. Strangers to friends to FWB to lovers, Some light angst, happy ending, Shouto eats Hawks’ cum to prove a point, Hawks and Shouto throwing shade at each other, spitroasting, reader is constantly overstimmed at the end --------------------------------------------------------

Your quirk quite literally made you see dead people.

Thankfully, you don’t actually have to see what caused their death, but rather during their best moment before their passing.

Your ability to interact with them, however, solely depends on their state of mind during their passing.

For people who were in grief over their passing, they were often too hysterical to communicate with.

People who’d come to accept their passing were easier to talk to, but touching was relatively impossible because they were on their way into transitioning into another life. Their energy was too little to physically interact with.

People who weren’t in grief over their passing, but still struggled to accept it would be able to make physical contact with you as well as avoid the hysteria.

In other words:

You hadn’t expected to literally run into pro heroes Hawks and Shouto

3 months after their supposed passing.

You were skeptical because no bodies were ever found.

But now you knew.

And it was awkward.

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“So…” you slide into your apartment with the ghosts of the former(?) pro-heroes shortly behind you, “you died during the last villain attack, then?” Hawks shrugs.

“Technically, yes, but also no. Do you remember what the villain’s quirk was?”

“To make people ‘disappear’ or something?”

“Yeah, something like that. Come to find out, their quirk turns people into ghosts. We don’t actually know if we’re dead or alive.”

“That would explain your continued existence then.”

For the next several hours, the three of you talk about the possibilities, but with no safe way of testing any of your theories, you opt to just giving them a space to stay, even if they don’t actually need it.

The next morning, you thank your lucky stars that you don’t have work, considering you would have been 4 hours late by now. You’re also slightly unnerved to find the both of them watching you.

“Sorry, but there isn’t exactly a whole lot we can do anymore. Watching you make funny faces in your sleep is the best we have.” Todoroki shrugs as you sputter indignantly,

“I don’t make funny faces.” “Sorry to tell you, but he’s not wrong. Your face is pretty funny.” you glare at the winged pro,

“You’re not helping.” He shrugs,

“Never said I was trying to.”

You decide to let them pick a Netflix show to leave on overnight, making sure it would continue to run for several hours uninterrupted as you slept.

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the show they ended up coming to agree on was some weird trashy reality show.

You didn’t even know it’s existed.

But that’s ok

You didn’t need to know.

Watching them float around your apartment and explore was… a little unnerving, to say the least.

Considering this was your private space and all

But they were good company

Hawks talks a lot about how he misses fried chicken, and that you should eat some for him every time you try and get food together

Only to be interrupted by Todoroki

Honestly, you thought it was to be like “leave her alone and let her eat what she wants”

But then boy really was out here like “she should eat cold soba for me instead”

Like wow, thanks.

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“C’mon, mini Endeavor! Don’t be so cold.” 

‘Wow, talk about shots fired.’ you raise your eyebrows, turning to Shouto

“Call me that again, and I’ll roast you alive you KFC reject.”

‘Oh yikes; returned serve.’ you look at Hawks from the corner of your eye.

“Oooh, feisty kitty. Little calico catboy. Besides, we’re ghosts; I don’t think you can kill me like this.”

‘Saucy. Pro Hero Hawks confesses to knowing what catboys are.’ you bite your lip, raising your glass to take a sip.

“Test me again and you’ll find out, Red Robin.”

‘He’s got you there.’ you nod to yourself.

“Fair enough.”

It’s silent for a moment; you set your glass down and look up just in time to see Hawks smirk.

“If it makes you feel better… your dad tastes about as awful as he acts.” It doesn’t make Shouto feel better, but it’s good to know that the most damage he can do is strangle Hawks.

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

“They’re good company” you decide

But you’ve been pent up for almost a month now, and you decide that you’re almost horny enough to rent a hotel room to ‘solve your problems’

But you don’t because that’s a little weird

That doesn’t stop you from fantasizing though.

You don’t expect them to be watching you in the morning one day

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“I thought I put Netflix on for y’all.” You turn into your pillow, groaning quietly as your legs and back stretch.

“We were watching it…” Todoroki starts,

“Then a certain little missy started making noises.” you grunt, perturbed.

“Okay, so I sleep talk. What about it?”

“I don’t know if you could call that *sleep talking*, per se…” You peek an eye open at Hawks, squinting when you notice his grin, “What do you think, catboy?”

“Definitely wouldn’t call it sleep talking.” He says from the other side of you. You don’t expect the small smirk on his lips, nor do you expect the way he stares at you so intensely.

“What… do you mean…?” you shove yourself further under your sheets, heart rising up into your throat.

“Sounds like someone’s a *little*...” Hawks looms over you, lips next to your ear, “pent up.”

You shiver hard, but cough and try to save face.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” you grumble, closing your eyes as if you were trying to go back to sleep.

“I bet if we take those pretty panties of yours, they’ll be soaked right now.” Hawks presses, eyes growing hungrier.

You flounder for a moment, and that’s all it takes for Hawks to make his move.

“Do you want some help, birdie? Want me to use my fingers on that pretty little pussy?” You shudder and whine, growing embarrassingly wet,

“I bet you’re just dripping from the thought, aren’t you?”

“Sh-shut up…” you spit weakly, pressing your thighs together.

“C’mon, why don’t you let me help?” His hands are slapped away before they can pull the sheets from you.

“Maybe she doesn’t want you to touch her,” Shouto slides his hand down your back; before you can whine in protest, more than willing to follow through, he continues.

“Maybe she’d rather have a real man touch her, not some ‘Original Recipe’ asshole.” You laugh into the pillow despite yourself.

Even now, Shouto somehow manages to make this into some strange competition they’ve been having, but you don’t complain when two pairs of— admittedly cold— hands pull away the sheets.

Especially when you’re no longer finding yourself in need of a hotel room.

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Somehow, you end up being Friends with Benefits with both of them.

Though they only ever used their fingers and mouths on you, but you weren’t going to complain

“It’s the least we could do, since you’re giving us somewhere to linger and free entertainment.”

Or so they said, anyway.

Somehow they learn just when you’re in desperate need of their touch before you even walk in through the door, almost instantly tugging you in and throwing your clothes off.

Despite the strange circumstances, you end up growing closer to the both of them over time

Part of you dreads the day you figure out how to reverse the villain's quirk

Assuming it’s possible

Not only were they both the best bed partners you could ask for

You genuinely enjoy their company and shady banter

But in moments when you’re all huddled up on the couch, watching yet another trashy reality show

You forget they’re ghosts in the first place

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“God, I can’t believe Jasmine.” You scoff, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV.

“Right? Paula didn’t deserve that shit. That girl is a queen.” Hawks grumbles in agreement, groaning when the interviewers cut to Jasmine.

“Agreed. Paula is queen.”

“It’s a miracle the two of you haven’t completely fried your brains watching this.” Shouto rolls his eyes, reading a book you brought home the other day.

“Shut up. You’re just mad Bernadette got voted off last week.” Hawks throws a kernel at Shouto, but— expectedly— it goes right through him.

“Bernie was the only decent girl and you both know it.” He glares, borderline pouting.

You smile, bittersweet. You grab the kernel that phased right through Shouto and continue watching the episode in silence.

You’re too lost in thought to notice the way they look at you.

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

At one point, their words and touches become so much sweeter, even outside the bedroom

When, however, is a question you couldn’t even begin to answer.

Some days, you wake up to the two of them brushing your cheeks, your hair.

Shouto grabs your hand gently, planting a soft peck on it with a quiet ‘Good morning, sweetheart.’

Hawks following up with a kiss to your  temple, “how’d you sleep?”

Other times, they would greet you at the door, asking about your day as they helped you out of your coat, taking your bag from you.

It felt so domestic, so peaceful, so *loving*

 you were afraid of it shattering like glass under a sledgehammer

But as they say, all good things must come to an end

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“Good morning, hummingbird.” You groan when Hawks presses a kiss to your eyelid, warm fingers tracing over your cheek.

Warm?

You open your eyes, whipping your head to look at the winged hero, “Hawks? You’re warm??”

He grins, pretending to be bashful, “Oh, why thank you! I’ve been told I’m rather nice.”

“No no no, you’re warm. Not cold.” You grab his hand and inspect it, thumbs pressing into his palms. He grunts,

“Well, now that you mention it, the room *is* a bit cold.” You hardly pay attention to him though when you’re suddenly stumbling out into the living room.

“Shou? Shouto?” You find him sitting on the couch. He looks up from the book, shocked.

“Yes? What is it? Are you okay??” He stands, meeting you halfway as you press your hands to his cheeks.

“Warm…” you whisper, heart thumping painfully in your chest.

“Well, at least your left side is.” You pull your hands away from his cheeks as he looks at you baffled, then to Hawks.

“Is everything alright? What’s going on?”

“I think… I think you’re human again.” You laugh humorlessly, and they look at you skeptically.

“Human? How? We didn’t do anything.” you give an exaggerated shrug,

“I don’t know, but how else am I supposed to explain your temperature.” They stay silent. You expect them to.

A pregnant pause, then you let out a shaky breath.

“I gotta call someone…” you tug at your hair, “Before someone finds out and I get accused for kidnapping you both.”

“Well, let’s not be too hasty, I mean” — Hawks shrugs— “everyone thinks we’re dead anyway. Wait and see if we stay warm.”

“And if they find out you’re here? Then what?” You grimace, more at the idea of them disappearing than the consequences, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to financially handle the backlash.

They both stay silent, Hawks giving you a shaky smile. “Then… just a couple of days. Just to make sure we’re actually back.”

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The next two days were unbearable

The tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife

The timing of the universe must have been lined up for this very moment, your first two days off in months leaving you stuck between them on the couch

Nobody said a word, not even when Bernadette made a surprise comeback in season 9

Thinking about constantly being alone again made your heart turn to ice 

But as it stood, all you had connecting you was the ghosting quirk and your FWB relationship

But as quick as it came, it was gone

The number of officials flooding your apartment and interrogating you was overwhelming, but Hawks and Shouto were quick to step in and explain

At least, everything they could anyway

According to the association, they couldn’t squeeze anything out of the villain responsible for changing Hawks and Shouto into ghosts

But once they confirmed that you were not a threat, they left you with a “light” warning

In other words: “Stay away. You’ve done enough”

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

Your house was so quiet, yet the T.V was on, your phone playing music, trying desperately to distract yourself with the book Shouto was reading. Nothing worked.

You still felt the way their presence lingered, practically permeated the room. You couldn’t sleep in your own bed anymore, sheets feeling far too warm. Sitting anywhere other than the middle seat on your couch made you feel like you were taking up someone’s space. Your kitchen seemed to have just a little too much space to move.

Two months pass since they’ve left, and it never seemed to get better. Rather than stressed, you just felt... tired. You wanted to feel anything but tired, but the echoes of their banter only reminded you that they were gone…

And you were alone once again.

You had no way of contacting them, and they were probably far too busy with the press to even think about the nobody girl who found them wandering.

Days blended together until it all came falling down. You fell into watching the news, the tabloids all celebrating the return of their favorite heroes Hawks and Shoto. Even Endeavor seemed uncharacteristically floored to see his son alive and well.

You laughed bitterly; ‘I would bet money on the fact that he probably rolled his eyes when he saw his father.’ wry smile on your lips.

Maybe another cup of coffee would be worthwhile.

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

You told yourself daily to just get over the unrequited feelings, yet you still yearned to see them every day.

You wished it were easier to pretend they were never here at all

Especially when they did it so well.

Though you supposed it was all the hero work talking.

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the last season you’d been watching with them, memories still too fresh even if it’s been more than a couple of months since you touched it

Netflix did a wonderful job at reminding you constantly

Eventually, you stopped watching netflix too

But couldn’t bring yourself to stop paying for a subscription, naively believing they would be back to continue as if nothing changed

You loathed it

Yet it was the only illusion you had left

Until it wasn’t an illusion anymore

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

It’s half passed one in the morning when you hear a knock at your door, frantic and desperate. You stumble out off the couch, nearly ramming your body into the door in an attempt to peek through the peephole.

You couldn’t believe your eyes when a flash of crimson feathers crossed your vision.

You yank the door open, wondering if this was some sort of cruel dream when you’re brutally reminded that it’s not, and that Hawks is-- indeed-- standing in front of you. In the flesh.

“Hey birdie.” he starts, looking far too exhausted.

“Hawks…” you whisper breathless, lungs rattling in disbelief when you inhale.

“Yeah… it’s me. The calico wanted to be here too, but his dad wouldn’t let him out of the house.” he smiles, strained.

“Shouto… wait, why are you here?” you glance around his form nervously, expecting to see blood. He swallows a thick lump,

“Can’t a bird just come say hello?”

You wheeze, smile more like a grimace, but you step aside and let him in. He walks around, more than well acquainted with every corner. Fingers running over your furniture, as if he were still trying to feel the memories that lingered.

“S’ colder than I remember.” he whispers and you nod,

“Yeah… Heater broke some time last month. Still waiting for the landlord to get back to me.” he doesn’t reply, staring at your bedroom door.

It’s painfully silent, but you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you say something now. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, not with his back facing you. Then he turns, and suddenly you’re far too aware of all the words he has to say to you.

For the first time in months, you feel like you’re burning alive.

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

By the time Hawks was through with you, the sun was high in the sky.

You didn’t think you’d be able to say you got dicked down hard enough to stay stuck in bed, yet here you were

Stuck in bed

His fingers run through your hair, sweet words of adoration leaving his lips with every kiss he presses to your skin

You can hardly believe that Hawks is still here

Even after he’s spent all night and all morning fucking it into you

You don’t remember the number of times he’s whispered how much he’s missed you

How much he wanted you

How much he needed you

Yet here he was

Fingers rubbing into your skin how badly he needed you to be real

The blissful illusion broken by sharp knocking on your front door

Yet Hawks-- or rather Keigo, as he insists-- still smiles

“Hope you’re not too tired, birdie… Your day’s only just begun.”

You don’t know if you should be afraid or not.

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“Shou--!” you’re cut off when he practically scrambles into your bed, lips smothering yours.

“Fuck, I missed you baby.” he growls against your lips, ‘I’m a little pissed the Chick-fil-a wannabe got to you first though.” “You’re still on that, huh.” Hawks muses, lazy grin on his lips when you squeal at the cold air hitting your skin, blanket gracelessly thrown to the side by the half-and-half hero.

“And you made a fuckin’ mess, asshole.” Shouto grumbles when he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, forcing your legs open. You can feel the way Keigo’s cum drips out of you, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Don’t… don’t stare, dammit.” you cover your face, knowing full well that he would never let you push his head away.

From experience, of course.

“Ruined such a pretty little pussy... “ you hear him mutter before his tongue is licking a wet stripe up the length of your pussy, circling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You’re still so sensitive, and you almost howl in sweet agony from the way your clit throbs and stings from the overstimulation.

“Whoops, can’t have you alerting the neighbors now can we?” Keigo says as he sits on the bed next to your head, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

You can tell he’s only pretending to play it cool, his wings puffing out impressively the longer he watches your face twist and your eyes cross, moaning and humming around his fingers. You feel cold fingers press into you and you gasp, the temperature shock making your clench harder around them. “Oops, sorry. Should have warned you.” Shouto hums, not sounding the least bit sorry. His fingers press and coax the deepest parts of you, massaging your gummy walls. You arch and cry out, thankful that Keigo’s fingers were capable of muffling your noises.

“Geez, you’re wasting all my milk there, kitty cat.” you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, but it’s quick to drop when Shouto’s suddenly licking and sucking, slurping obscenely before pulling away and giving Keigo an unamused ‘meow’.

Keigo doesn’t respond, too shocked for his usual witty comebacks, but that doesn’t deter Shouto from trailing his warmer fingers up your body, pressing over your stomach.

The contrast between his cold fingers prodding around inside you and the warm ones pressing down on your tummy makes you breathless, cumming with a squeaky moan, thighs shaking around Shouto’s head. He chuckles, amused at the way you clench around his fingers, coaxing you through your orgasm until you slack against the bed.

You’re suddenly turned around, head hanging off the edge of the bed, still lying flat on your back.

“Wha…” you slur, attempting to look at Shouto who’s climbing on the bed, pulling your legs over  his hips when suddenly Keigo’s standing by your head, leaning down and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Think you can take us both at the same time, hummingbird?” his cock is in his hand, stroking lazily. You swallow, chewing on your lip before nodding slowly.

You weren’t actually sure, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“Atta girl…” he praises, stroking your cheek gently before pressing the tip against your lips. You give it a cheeky little kiss to mask your own nerves, tongue poking out to tease him before your mouth drops open into a moan, the feeling of Shouto filling you up immediately distracting you.

“It’s not nice to tease, baby.” he teases you, hips smacking into yours rudely. You choke when Keigo fills your mouth, fighting to relax your throat.

You’re thankful that he’s at least taking some care to help support your head and neck, but your thoughts are quick to drift away as Shouto stuffs and stretches your cunt, nothing but grunts and hums leaving you as Keigo slowly fills your mouth.

“God, what a pretty sight birdie. Your little throat flexing around my cock.” he mutters, hand caressing the front of your throat, squeezing gently. You try to focus on keeping your breathing even, but it’s hard when Shouto continues to insist on fucking you so roughtly.

“Your cute little cunny looks so small, stretched around my fat cock baby.” he groans, only taking a short moment to savor the way his cock looks covered in your juices and some of Keigo’s leftover cum, almost immediately slamming into that spot that has your eyes crossing, stars flashing across your vision.

You lose complete track of time as they take you in every which way until suddenly you’re waking up, clean and tucked into bed. Hawks sits on your left, Shouto to your right. Hands caress your body sweetly, whispered words almost enough to distract you from the aching pain in your body.

“Sorry, sweetheart… we got carried away” Shouto kisses your knuckles gently, eyes gentle compared to the ferocity they had before.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see you, touch you… I thought I was going to go crazy,” Keigo follows up.

You don’t think you could talk even if you tried, so you just squeeze their hands. They squeeze back silently, all three of you basking in each other's presence.

Something tells you that they won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

How about both if you want? If not you can choose.

Emotional questionnnnn: What if a superhero died (including Batman and Superman cause why not >:))?

Uhmm...I'm going to talk mostly about if they just witnessed the death of the others since I don't think I'm ready to unpack the emotional baggage of killing a friend. ( But if you also about a specific kill with specific details on how it happened you can bet I'll give you a specific answer.)

It's clear in the aftermath of Superman vs Barman that Superman's death would take a toll on the civilians. He's iconic that way, I think it would be especially hard on Kara. And it would be terrible for Gotham morale and Batgirl especially, if Batman dies while being a hero.

It'd be terrible if either hero died. Both are incredibly strong and intelligent. If either died it would mean a villain strong enough and reckless enough to simply murder any adversary.

It would be pretty scary to all if Superman died....after all Cryptonien's are supposed to be indestructible, no?

Kara would take the death pretty hard. In denial, probably. Insisting that there is a way to bring him back.

If one of the Invincibro's (yo bros) died then it'll hit hard.

It'll hit differently depending on the counterpart. And the situation.

For example, if Hal died both sides will mourn. And the Invicibros will be a mess (I suspect that Steve and Hal were co-captains, if anything Steve is a bit of a figurehead). Speaking of 'captain' the school, whoever knew the confident brunet will be in shock because Hal always seemed a little invincible. Many would mourn him since he grows on you....like fungi. Jess will be wrecked and she'd blame herself because of course she would. She was his partner, she should have been there. 'And oh gosh she was alone now, she'd have to defend the space sector alone. And even if she's assigned a new partner it wouldn't matter because they weren't an obnoxious, confident, self-centered Hal'. And yes, there will be a certain dampness in the atmosphere for both teams.

If Barry died both teams (the whole city even) would mourn. Barry was beloved as both Barry the dessert slinger and the Flash, superhero speedster. Barry was kind of the kindness of the group. The one who did good for no other motive than the fact that he loved deeply and wanted to keep everyone safe. The team would keep chugging along with this mindset...but I don't think they'd be able to eat at Sweet Justice anymore. It would hit Babs' hard because he was her best (guy) friend and they swore to have each other's backs (in my AU) and she didn't have his and now he's dead. I think the girls would prefer to just move their headquarters since Sweet Justice was painful enough to just think about.

If Carter died I'm afraid no one will notice. Hawkman's death will be acknowledged but not Carter's. Carter's death if given any attention at school would be a mystery much like he was. Same with Hawkman, his death will be mourned but he'd be considered a mystery death because of his quiet nature. This will drive the boys mad because Carter Hall was DEAD and no one seemed to care. How can they not realize that everything has changed? Carter was more or less the level-headed one of the group. It would be particularly terrible for Karen since Carter was big and strong and knowing he's dead? Yes...she wouldn't take it well. She'd most likely try to avenge him.

If Oliver died it would be a bit of a scandal. I'm sure he has quite the fan base as both an aspiring actor and the charismatic Green Arrow. He was always the *cue dramatic gasp* dramatic one of the bunch. His death will be, you guessed it, terrible. Since happy, confident, loyal Green Arrow was killed. The atmosphere around the team would tune quiet, if a little hollow but they'd keep chugging through since Oliver wasn't friends with quitters. And it would hit Zee differently because the last thing they did was fight (of course they did) and now he's dead and she realized that she had fun arguing with him and their rivalry made acting so much more fun and now how is she supposed to perform when her co-star was dead? When the idiot who would make rude faces behind the curtains and then grudgingly admit she did 'decently' was dead?!? It would hit hard because Oliver and Zee shared a passion and they both left a stain there. She'd forever associate her love for the stage to her complicated friendship with a dead actor. (I think she'd hate when in the future people forget Oliver Queen's name). The whole girl said would mourn but they didn't know Oliver as well as Zee and Zee's a wreck so they'd channel their grief into comforting her.

God help the idiot who murders Steve. If Diana hasn't already killed you, the team will. The Invincibro's, I mean. Steve is a bit of a figurehead so kill the queen and they will make it their life mission to avenge him. That is all after the grieving, of course. Steve will be mourned heavily by both teams, especially by Diana and the Invicibros. Diana will be confused at first because she never even thought that Steve could die. Never crossed her mind. She never asked for anything, wanted for anything, but she wanted him. Him to be alive. How is that even possible??! Jeez, I don't see much of him so that's all I can really say.

If Garth is killed well... Both teams will be horrified and heartbroken. It's just that Garth is so innocent and sweet. And he was killed. The whole school I think would notice because the football team will mourn (in my AU) him. The city might be a bit indifferent because despite his confidence he never demanded as much attention as his team. But the team will never be indifferent to it. The Invincibro's will be furious to hide the fact that they are wrecked because yes, Garth can handle himself in a fight but he was only fourteen. He had plans and he was their friend, goddamit. (I really want to go in depth about how the girls and guys would react but I'll resist.) Kara will react similarly because how dare they take her little brother away?? One thing is letting him handle himself when he's getting bullied but killing him?

Okay...this is a quick peek at how the team and counterpart will react to their death....now for the girls!!

(they are all killed, okay? No different or accidental deaths)

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If Jess were killed the team would be a wreck, of course. Jess, I like to think, was the mom friend and medic of the group. The girls will mourn and healing will be hard. Very hard. They'll remember all the things she holds dear. I have no doubt they'll participate in protests like Jess has been bugging them to do when she was alive. The Invincibro's will be sad too, of course. Initially, then they'll be pissed. Won't rest untill they help the SHG defeat the killer. And Hal? He'll be feral, of course he would. He is very possessive and very loyal. He'd be in denial at first (they all would) because how can Jessica Fricking Cruz, passionate kind selfless Jess be dead?? That's not possible. She cared too much, had too much to do- she can't be dead. But I feel like halfway through his revenge rampant he'll remember that Jess was a pacifist and he'll...I dunno.

If Babs died the team will be swinging from horrified, to unbelieving, to furious. They'd be sad because Babs loved being a superhero and she loved helping people and now she was dead and- they'd be a mess. And don't even get me started on how Barry would take it. Wanna know how he'd take it? Very badly. Why? Because Babs is his best friend and his counterpart and he's supposed to watch her back and she's gone for real and this is terrible and he's so sensitive and everything is fallings apart it seems. He'll definitely be a little more jaded, a lot more protective and burst into tears when anyone orders a candy cake triple ripple tower with rainbow sprinkles. But then overtime it'll turn into a sad smile. Man, the Invincibro's will also be horrified since Babs was close to pretty much everyone.

If Karen died? Absolute pandemonium. The team will be equal parts blaming themselves and torn with guilt and sorrow. They will tear the world apart looking for a way to fix it somehow. Fix it the way Karen would have. The boy team, because despite all their teasing, will be in uproar because no one messed with Karen but them!! And Carter? He'll be at war with himself, because he should have protected her, the pipsqueak was too young and small and fragile to be able to hold off evil by herself and how dare she put herself in that situation? How dare she just leave them like that?? I feel like he'll be in denial for a long time, working through everything to avoid processing his grief but when it does it'll hit hard. Probably because of something small but subtle. Like getting electrocuted because Karen had quite a few fractal scars from her experimenting and super heroing. Or when he realizes he got stung by a bee- it's the little moments when it strikes deep.

If Zee died it would be a bit absolutely scandalous of course. Not only will the girls be horrified and heartbroken but so will Zee's fanbase as an actor and her father's assistant. The girls will have quite some time to even begin to adjust but soon enough they will jump straight into plotting their revenge. The boys will be livid of course but none more that her counterpart Oliver Queen. Oliver won't quite believe it, I don't think, he'll just think that Zee will just magically resurrect herself because the annoying actress who liked hogging his showtime couldn't possibly be dead. She was like a cockroach! No matter how many times squashed beneath your shoe those wretched little things will just come back. All the time...she couldn't be gone. And truly he didn't hate her, he just liked having a goal. To outshine Zee Zatara. So...how could she be dead? This will hit especially hard when he doesn't have a counterpart to fight with. Or when the leading lady role goes to someone new. Clear to say that Zee Zatara's death will be every bit heart wrenching.

If Diana dies be prepared for hell. The girls will fall apart with grief after avenging their leader. I feel that Babs would try to keep everyone together at least. The boy team will be furious because Diana was their battle plan leader too! And how- they'd be confused because how can the immortal Diana Prince die? The school would definitely have a service for the mystery top student. How would Steve react? He'd be horrified and lost, and confused but then he'd help the girls avenge W.W and live the rest of his life upholding Diana's values. (I'm not quite sure how he'd handle the grief.)

If Kara dies then there will of course first be the mourning (at least according to the show). Then the shock. Then the doubt because hasn't Kara 'died' before? And that would lead to hope which will make the moment of confirmation the most painful. For both teams. Garth will be completely blindsided with grief and anger because how dare they take his big sister? How dare they hurt moody, cold, rude at times, big softie at heart, Kara? And well I guess we'll discover that rage is also a prominent feature if the ocean, is it not? So yes, this will be an emotional rollercoaster no doubt about it.

✨✨✨EXTRA EXTRA✨✨✨

This extra will be non-super hero's who will also mourn and attempt to avenge the lost one.

Diana- she is the princess of an island of immortal warrior woman. Her mom is 'a final boss'. She will have plenty of people to avenger her (not that she would want that, per say). I kind of have a suspicion that Queen of Amazon's will either be overly sympathetic ('my daughter has chosen her path, now we can only honor her') or furiously because they were part of her daughters dream that got Diana killed (may you pray we never cross paths again or I will curse you as you have cursed me).

Karen- not sure... but maybe her parents??? They can make a suit too??

Kara- Her cousin because family is family and that's period and she's like the only survivor who doesn't want him (genuinely) dead. And Alex, her step-sister- maybe.

Jess- Green Lantern Corp.? Dexstarr?

Zee- her DAD, remember they are super close and he's super powerful and yeah....

Babs- Her dad- who's like a cop and even though he shown to be extremely lazy I have no doubt that he'd drop the donuts to find out what happened to his precious pumpkin pants. Might even call I'm Batman. Harleen, yes Harleen who tried to murder Robin because he embarrassed Babs will definitely go after her best friends murderer (even after finding out Vans secret identity)

Okay for Steve and Carter I genuinely don't know.

Garth, I'm not sure but if he's actually underwater royalty than you can expect a whole lot of flooding, earthquakes and sea monsters.

Hal- starfire is coming for your but

Oliver- Mortimer Drake, maybe? They are sort of bro's

Barry- DA WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

Well...this was fun, wasn't it? Thanks for the beautiful ask, as usual @thedevilsmusicbox and I look forward to hearing from you. 😁🙋

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 4

Hello, and let me once again introduce you to the whimsical world of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

As Luz glanced back between Amity’s pale face, and Willow’s nearly bursting rage, the pieces started coming together. With widened eyes, she said, “Wow. She didn’t remember you at all? That is cold.” She shook her head, her cautious respect for the ambitious woman having taken a hit. She bit her lip. “Are you two going to be okay?” She hesitantly asked, her and Gus looking concerned at the reactions of the two girls.

“I-!” Willow started, before pausing, the anger draining out of her face. “I’ll be fine. They aren’t worth the effort.” She said, sounding exhausted and drained. She sighed, smoothing out her dress. “Let’s just get this night over with.”

“Indeed, let’s.” Amity stated, face regaining some hints of color. With that awkward moment finally passing, the group headed into what they assumed was the room Amity had staked out to host the Moonlight Conjuring in. Before too long, the rest of the guests had started coming in: Amelia, Cat, Selena, Bo, and Skara. There weren't many, but they came all the same.

The girls froze upon seeing Luz, Amelia audibly gulping at the sight of her. The group frantically glanced back and forth between Luz in front of them, and Skara, situated at the back. Luz resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing it wouldn’t help any. She sighed, “Okay, look, I’m not going to assume I know why you’re all freaked out over me being here, though I do have a guess. I’m the security you were promised, and as long as I’m here, I’ll keep you all safe. Okay?” She finished, a note of hesitance in her voice.

“During the attack, someone I cared about was killed.”

The group turned towards Skara, staring straight at Luz, a blank, empty look in her eyes. Bo reached out, only for her arm to be gently pushed away. She stepped forward. “His name was Batthew. He wasn’t the smartest guy in the world, and he always went overboard. And now he’s dead.” Her voice sounded hollow, like she had no hope, no joy inside of her at all.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Luz said softly. If Skara was going to blame her for her friend’s death, she wouldn’t fight it.

Skara lightly shook her head. “Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault those maniacs killed him.” She stated, getting bewildered looks from all. Tears started to prick at the corners of Skara’s eyes. “All I want to say is thank you for avenging him. Even if you didn’t fight his killer, you helped stop those sickos, and prevented any more people from feeling the hurt I felt.”

Luz blinked, feeling some measure of relief that she didn’t hate her. That relief quickly shifted to guilt when she reminded herself Skara was grateful for stopping the people who had killed her crush/boyfriend. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen the kind of things the Black Dogs get up to when allowed to rampage.” She shuddered at the mental image. “I was more than glad to stop them.” She said gravely. She and Skara shared a solemn nod at her words.

With that, the tension seemed to bleed out of the room. Amity’s friends were still noticeably nervous around Luz, but it wasn’t anything too bad, and a few, such as Bo, even made an active effort to talk and interact with her.

“No way! Humans don’t have healing magic!?” Bo exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.

“Well, sorta,” Luz said sheepishly, scratching her head in embarrassment. “Back in the old days, it was a pretty common tactic of warring groups to attack enemy healers to deprive the opposition of their skills, as well as destroying information sources when capturing them wasn’t an option. Because of that, a lot of forms of magic and magical arts were all but lost, including Healing.” She finished, a soft frown on her face.

“Oh my Titan, that must be horrible!” Bo said, heart aching in sympathy of those whose lives were lost because they didn’t have access to healing magic.

“Yeah, I was honestly a little shocked when I learned that the Isles had healing magic.” Luz chuckled, arms crossed over her chest. “Still, efforts have been made to bring back Healing Magic, with assistance from those practitioners still alive in the world. Last I heard, Fiore, my home country, had actually established a school exclusively for the study and research of Healing Magic!”

“Well that’s a relief,” Bo sighed. “It might’ve come late, but at least it’s there now, and people can go get treatment when they need it, right?” She inquired.

“Yeah.” Luz said, cracking a sad grin. “Just wish it had come a little sooner.” She muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!”

Willow and Amelia were currently having a discussion about Plants. By all accounts, Willow was giving Amelia some pointers for upcoming assignments, particularly those dealing with more aggressive breeds of plants. Amelia frantically scribbled down the tips and suggestions Willow offered.

“Good, good, I can work with this!” Amelia excitedly exclaimed, relief and joy shining in her eyes. She turned to Willow, an embarrassed smile on her face. “You are seriously amazing at this!”

“It’s just some stuff I’ve pieced together in my free time.” Willow shrugged noncommittally. “I’m happy to share it if people think they need it, I just don’t see anything really special about it.”

Amelia gave a rueful grin, shaking her head. “And that’s why it’s so incredible! You figured all this stuff out on your own, when it took actual, fully-trained adults years to discover this stuff!” She gave Willow a sad smile. “You really are amazing.”

Willow averted her eyes, uncomfortable. Amelia may not have been as… aggressive as Boscha was at even her best, but she was still part of the group that made her school life difficult. But… Willow couldn’t find it in her to stay mad at the girl. She certainly didn’t like her, but she didn’t dislike her either. “Thanks, I guess?” She ultimately mumbled out.

Amelia briefly searched Willow’s face in confusion, before sighing in realization. “Look, Willow? About the whole ‘Half-a-Witch’ thing…” She started, proceeding carefully at Willow’s sharp look.

“Yeah?” Willow drawled, hackles raised.

Amelia bit her lip slightly, before continuing. “I’m sorry. It was a seriously lame thing to do, and to let Boscha and Amity get away with. Even if we weren’t friends, we could’ve done something to try and make things easier for you, but we just went along with it because it was easier.” She turned clear eyes towards Willow’s suspicious gaze. “It may not mean much now, but I will try and make things up to you. If that’s okay with you?” She gave a hopeful smile.

Willow mulled it over… but she didn’t feel any suspicions rousing at Amelia’s words. Sighing, she finally said, “I’m willing to give you a chance. I really don’t know how to feel about you and the others here.” She glanced over at Luz and Bo. “I honestly only came because my parents insisted, and because Gus and Luz were going to be here. But, if you really are serious about being sorry,” She gave a hesitant grin. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.” The two shared a nervous laugh. A thought came to Willow. “Hey, do you know why Boscha isn’t here?” She asked.

Amelia gave a snort. “Amity didn’t invite her, and considering how she’s been acting, that’s probably for the best.” She explained, getting a look of mixed confusion and concern from Willow. She elaborated, “Boscha basically screamed her head off at Skara and sent her into tears after she burned her, and she’s been avoiding everyone ever since. And between her and Skara, every one of us chose to stick by Skara.” She finished. Willow pondered the topic. As much as Boscha had caused her grief and some heartache over the years, she didn’t wish that kind of loneliness on anyone. She’d probably talk about it with Luz later.

Gus was surprisingly hitting it off rather well with Cat and Skara. Cat had basically volunteered to be Skara’s backup nurse for when Bo wasn’t around or when Bo just needed to take a break for herself. Skara frankly thought Gus was hilarious, even if she wasn’t really in a laughing mood, as his energy and nervousness gave him a unique air to him.

“-And so yeah, Bo’s a member of the HAS!” Gus finished explaining, getting a look of shared amusement from his conversation partners. “I mean, I guess with everything that’s happened, our group and the Human Roleplay Society is gonna get a lot of dirty looks after the attack.” He concluded, a look of bashfulness and sadness filling his features.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to join the HAS to send a message.” Skara remarked, getting an incredulous look from Gus, and a snort of amusement from Cat. “I’m serious! You shouldn’t be getting harassed because of what someone else did. Plus,” She gave a nervous smile, “It’ll let me hang out with Bo more often.”

“Well, I’m never one to turn away new members!” Gus excitedly cheered.

“I’ll bet.” Cat remarked sardonically, giving a loose shrug.

Unbeknownst to any of the guests, Amity had slipped away, stalking through her home on the search for her parents. The scowl on her face would’ve sent even the toughest of the Isles’ residents backpedalling. She roughly shoved her way past the assorted Abomination servants, utterly unwilling to deal with even the slightest of delays. Eventually, she made it to her father’s workshop, him STILL tinkering over his pet project, her mother calmly sipping her tea next to him while going over some of the paperwork from the family business. “Mother, Father.” She said with tightly controlled politeness.

“Ah, Mittens! How is the party going?” Her mother cordially asked, while her father gave a grunt of acknowledgement as to her presence. Odalia stood up, moving closer, pulling Amity to her side. “I must say, I am most impressed, sweety! Cultivating new relationships for the future with exceptional individuals, a stroke of brilliance!” She said, a proud smile across her face.

“Thank you.” Amity bit out, before continuing, “But what I actually came to talk to you about is-”

“MITTENS!!” Emira’s voice rang out, accompanied by frantic pounding. “GET ME AND ED OUT OF HERE!!!”

Amity turned a confused glance towards Odalia. “Emira was rather adamant about supervising your Conjuring, and when I tried to put my foot down, she… objected, rather aggressively. I had to seal her and Edric in the panic room so they wouldn’t get up to any mischief.” Her mother sheepishly explained, looking both pleased and annoyed at the ferocity her eldest daughter had displayed.

“I can understand locking up Emira,” Amity stated, quirking an eyebrow. “But why Edric?”

“Mittens, we both know he would free her in a heartbeat, if for no other reason than because it is Emira.” Odalia drolly stated, causing a brief moment of solidarity to pass between the two. Yes, they were both very familiar with Edric’s peculiarities and the sheer depth of his loyalty to his twin. “Now, what is it you wished to speak with me about, Mittens?” Odalia finally asked, getting back on track.

Amity breathed in deep, forcibly holding back her anger. “When you spoke with Willow, you implied that you only knew her through our confrontation at school, would that be accurate?” She tersely asked, getting a look of baffled surprise from Odalia, and a raised brow from Alador.

“Well, yes! Where else would I know her from?” Odalia rhetorically asked, a note of borderline condescension coloring her voice.

“Hmm… I must say, that name does seem familiar, but I can’t recall from where.” Alador muttered.

Amity’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Here’s a hint. My fifth birthday.”

“What does that have to do with anything!?” Odalia demanded in bewilderment, even as Alador mulled the hint over.

Alador snapped his fingers in realization. “Ah yes! Now I remember! Willow was the name of one of Amity’s playmates when she was little. When we noticed that she wasn’t developing as fast as her peers, we had Amity sever ties at her… fifth… birthday- oh.” He said, his usual tired expression widening into pale realization, even as Odalia’s own face shifted into horrified realization as the implications sunk in.

“Yes, oh.” Amity echoed, a look of bitter amusement on her face. She turned on her heel. “That was all the confirmation I needed. I believe that I will spend the remainder of the evening seeing to my guests. Mother, father.” And with that, she power-walked away, ignoring her mother’s cries to come back, to talk things over, as if she would. Amity ripped her necklace off, shoving it into her pocket, in no mood to hear her mother’s voice in her head tonight. Yet another blotch had appeared in her mental image of her parents. It was honestly mostly a black smear at this point anyway.

Eda glanced out at the sky, seeing that the Night Market was about to open, if the encroaching darkness was a solid indicator. She called over her shoulder, “Come on, King! We’ve got a shady seller to see about some potions!”

“Weh! I’m ready to go!” King cried, running up to her side, putting on a look of fierce (adorable) determination. She cracked a smirk at that. The two headed out, giving Hooty permission to use any and all means to defend the house in their absence, prompting a delighted shout of excitement from the friendly, if annoying, House Demon. Neither noticed, the heavy figure moving through the branches of the trees, stalking them on their approach to town, nor its bloodthirsty grin.

Luz glanced up from her discussion with Skara at Amity’s arrival to the room. “Hey Blight!” She cheerfully called out, only for her expression to shift into concern at Amity’s gloomy demeanor. “Something wrong?”

Amity sighed, waving off her concern. “It’s nothing, just an unpleasant talk with my parents.”

“Oh no, are they kicking us out!?” Gus exclaimed, a look of panicked despair crossing his face. He turned to Willow, clinging to her dress. “This is it! The moment of hopelessness as our dreams are dashed to pieces! Willow my friend, it was fun while it lasted!” He cried, sobbing into her dress, much to Willow’s exhaustion.

“What!?” Amity asked, baffled, before shaking it off. “No, you’re not getting kicked out, I just had something unpleasant confirmed. Please, you’re free to stay.” She said, bemused at the cheer of relief Gus let out, even as Luz and Willow shook their heads in amusement at his antics.

“Well, I guess it’s about time for me to start doing the job you recruited me for.” Luz said with a joking tone, heading for the door. She flicked a finger gun towards the group. “Save me some snacks for when I get back, okay?”

“Will do!” Willow called back.

Snorting in amusement, Luz made her way to the front door, planning on crawling up to the top of the roof for a vantage point against any attackers. Plus, she thought standing on a roof by moonlight was badass. Chuckling to herself at her inner geek rearing its head, Luz pulled the door open, only to go still at what she saw. Seven humans, all standing outside the door, staring her down. However, what really drew her gaze was the figure in the center, someone she hadn’t seen in quite some time. “Neon!?” Luz exclaimed in shock.

“LuLu!” The girl exclaimed, jumping towards Luz in a flying hug. The blue-haired girl eagerly buried her face into Luz’s side, a look of childish excitement covering her face. “Oh I just knew it was you!!” She pulled back, her face puffing out in a pout. “And here you are, having a fun-time slumber party without me!” She whined, flailing her arms. Luz felt her face go deadpan, even as the others, guards she figured, sighed in exhaustion at the antics of their charge. Yup, this was definitely Neon. Neon crossed her arms, a look of defiance covering her, admittedly adorable, features. “And since I’m here, I’m gonna be joining this party, whether you like it or not!”

“There is absolutely no way I’m talking you out of this, is there?” Luz droned, already resigned to the excitable girl’s antics.

“Nope!”

Amity busied herself with the setup for the Conjuring, intently ignoring the glances the others sent her way. She wasn’t distracting herself from the confirmation that, yes, her parents were callous enough to completely disregard one of the most bitter memories in her life, not in the slightest.

“Hey, guys?” Luz’s voice called out, drawing the attention of the group to the door. “We might have a situation!” Everyone was instantly on guard; Bo, Cat, and Amelia were nervous, seriously wondering if they were in danger, while Skara and Gus grew nervous but steeled themselves, even as Willow and Amity braced themselves for an attack. “Now, don’t be alarmed, but we’ve got some… surprise guests is all!”

With that said, Luz walked into the room. Everyone instantly took note of the girl tightly clinging to Luz’s side, a thin girl, roughly around their age, with messy blue hair held up in a ponytail by a yellow ribbon, a long-sleeved purple striped shirt under a vest, a long skirt going to her calves. She was beautiful, with delicate features that screamed innocence and gentleness, with brilliant blue eyes shining outward. Following behind them were six other humans, all varying in appearance, the only commonality being the immaculate black suits they wore.

“Um, Luz?” Willow tentatively asked. “Who’s this?” She asked, gesturing to the girl tightly hugging Luz’s side.

“Ugh, everyone, this is Neon Nostrade. She’s a friend of mine from the Human Realm. Neon, these are my friends and acquaintances from the Demon Realm.” Luz intoned, introducing the girl to the group and vice versa.

“Oooh!! It’s so amazing to meet you all! I am Neon, heiress of the Nostrade family, and these are my guards!” She cheerfully announced, wildly gesturing to the group behind her. “Basho,” She pointed to the tallest, a muscular man with a cleft chin, pompadour, mustache and sideburns, who gave a friendly wave, “Piper,” a round, short figure with prominently pointed front teeth, long hair with a significant bald spot on top who gave a small nod, “Baise,” a beautiful woman whose hair was done up in an intricate braided top-knot offered a short wave, “Tocino,” A gangly fellow with bright orange hair offered a smile, “Squala,” a darker skinned man with tightly pinned back hair gave a two-fingered salute, “and Kurapika!” The last guard, a handsome young man with rich blond hair, gave a bow, a polite smile on his face. Neon turned a sweet grin to the group. “They keep me safe from meanies who wanna steal my predictions!”

The assembled witches numbly waved in greeting. They all turned to Luz, who groaned.

“Look, I have no idea how they got here, but I can vouch for Neon, and I know her dad screens her guards to an insane degree. They won’t be a risk to us.” She stated, nodding to the group.

“Oh LuLu, you say the nicest things!” Neon cheered, eagerly hugging Luz’s arm.

“LuLu?” Amity questioned.

“Uh huh, LuLu!” Neon eagerly agreed. “LuLu was my very first bodyguard! Originally, papa kept me tucked away so my future husband would be the first person outside the family to see me!” The Witches paled. “But then I figured out fun magic, and papa made a bunch more money than usual, and he said I wasn’t gonna have a husband anymore, and he had his business buddies give him LuLu to protect me!” She cheerfully explained. “After that, LuLu took me into town a bunch and I had lots of fun! I got to shop for my own clothes, and didn’t have to wear dolly dresses anymore, and got to eat yummy food that wasn’t just veggies and water, and I even met a nice man who was getting money for his sick momma’s medicine and I gave him a bunch of money, but LuLu took him into an Alley and gave him her money and got mine back!” She just kept rambling away, even as her guards slumped over in exhausted resignation, a matching expression on Luz’s face.

“Hey, Neon? We’ve got some snacks set up, if you want any.” Luz said, pointing to the tray of goodies.

“Ooh! Yummy!” Neon cheered, rushing for the treats, eagerly stuffing them into her mouth.

The blond guard, Kurapika, spoke up. “Please excuse the Young Miss. She means well, but… she doesn’t have the most experience with the real world, I’m afraid.” He formally stated, giving a deep bow to the Witches. As he pulled up, he added, “I believe it is accurate of me to say that we are very grateful for you allowing us in. When the Young Miss overheard that her friend,” he gestured to Luz, who was currently staring at a wall, dead to the world, “was going to be attending a gathering at night with a group of youths, she insisted we come.” He sighed.

“By all means, this is no trouble.” Amity stated diplomatically, compartmentalizing the barrage of information Neon had blurted out, focusing on the gentlemen before her. Noticing the nervousness of the others, she asked, “Forgive me, but our Isles have recently been attacked by a group known as Oroboros, and everyone is on edge when it comes to humans, and while I mean no offense, I have to ask, do you have any association with them?”

The guards gained matching looks of dark loathing. “No, we do not.” Kurapika stated, his voice a mask of tightly controlled cool politeness. He relaxed slightly as he explained, “We were hired to guard Miss Neon so as to keep her predictive magic from being taken, along with her. While her father is, unfortunately, a high-ranking financier for Oroboros, we fortunately exist outside of that nest of darkness’ command structure.”

Amity nodded, filing away the information. “While I’m not sure how much you can actually say, would you care to explain how you all got to the Isles?”

As Kurapika opened his mouth to reply, he was cut off by Neon’s shout. “We passed through a big gate filled with water, and then Zoop! We were on the Isles!” She cheerfully called over, before resuming stuffing her face. Her guards just sighed, nodding at her words.

“What Miss Neon says is true.” Kurapika stated with a rueful grin. “While we don’t know its precise nature, we entered this Realm through the use of a Water Magic based portal. It was… quite the experience.” He finished, a look of embarrassment crossing his features at some memory.

“Thank you.” Amity said, moving over to Luz, who was still staring a whole into the wall. She pulled in close, harshly whispering into her ear. “That girl mentioned she had been kept in seclusion until her marriage. How old was she to be during it?”

“Thirteen.” Luz growled out. “The fact creep was one of the few people I’ve killed and not regretted, at least not outside the abstract regret of killing at all. I honestly would’ve preferred to expose the corrupt monster, but I had to settle for putting him out of people’s misery.” She turned a burning glare towards Amity. “And Neon’s dad is even worse.”

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: Returning the Favor | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit | Words:  2981 | Tags: power dynamics, smut, cunnilingus, mildly dubious consent (both are able and willing, but it’s a wonky situation)

Summary:  You get robbed by the most handsome man you've ever seen and he disappears into the night. What do you do when he comes back bringing you a gift?

You quickly make your way along the empty street. It's getting dark, meaning that the decent folks head home while the night makes room for the delinquents. So far, you've been fine, mainly since people around here know that you're a woman who can hold her own and that you're carrying a nasty six-shooter that quickly ends discussions that are not going your way.

Tonight, you're unarmed, though. You made some extra dollars cleaning the Jefferson house, and Mrs. Jefferson won't have anybody with a gun on her property except for her guards.

You turn a corner, and the small hairs on your back stand up. The alley in front of you is pitch black. It's probably not a good idea to head that way, but that alley brings you right to your doorstep, and you can avoid walking past the saloon. 

After a deep breath, you rush through the narrow passage. Nothing happens. The moonlight illuminates the street before you, and you're only a couple of steps away from your home. It's still too far. You know the second you hear footsteps that you're in trouble. 

A dark figure steps out into the street right in front of you, the moonlight  glistening on the barrel of the stranger's gun. It's pointed at your chest. "I'm very sorry about this, Miss, but I have to check you for valuables."

The deep voice sends shivers down your spine, but fancy words don't change the fact that you hate to be bullied. "That's an impressing way to phrase a robbery."

The man lifts his head just a fraction, his face no longer hidden by his hat. You should probably wonder why he's not wearing a mask while robbing you, but you're too stunned by his looks. He's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with bright eyes and a nicely trimmed beard that invites you to touch it.

"Not trying to be impressive, Miss," the stranger says. 

Not that he has to try, he just is. A head taller than you, his shoulders are so broad that there's no way for you around him, no matter how quick you are. He takes a step forward, holding the gun a little higher. "You wanna give me what you have or do I have to take a look myself?"

Usually, you wouldn't be caught dead being touched by a stranger, but this one's at least a looker. If you're getting robbed, you might as well get something out of it. And who knows, maybe there's still a way to turn this around. "I only got a few dollars. You're welcome to see for yourself." 

The man raises his brows, clearly surprised. You have to hold in a laugh. It seems that Mr. Tough-Guy made an empty threat and wasn't planning on touching you at all. He clears his throat before stepping closer. "Don't move," he says, but his voice lost a little of its bravado.

You hold out your arms, and he runs his hand along your waist, checking for hidden treasures under your belt. After barely touching you, he grabs your pouch and takes a look inside. As he takes out the money from your cleaning job, you take your chance. With a swift movement, you grab his gun, and for a second you think you've got him. Then his hands grab both of your wrists. He presses you against the nearest wall with so much force that it pushes the air out of your lungs. 

The man steps closer, his whole body boxing you in as he holds both your arms up against the wall. "Don't make me hurt you, miss," he growls, and there's an edge to his voice that finally makes you see the danger you're in.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," you manage to say, not ready to play the frightened victim, no matter how cold you suddenly feel.

The stranger runs his eyes all over your body as if to check that there's no other threat. His gaze drives away the cold, heating your body in a way that's utterly inappropriate for the situation. After a moment, the man presses himself against you, holding you in place while he lets one of your arms go to take the gun out of your hand. He holsters it while looking you dead in the eye, and you know what that means. He doesn't need a weapon to contain you.

"Still don't have more than those few dollars," you say, wondering what he will do about that.

"I don't need your money," he says, taking a step back and bringing your arms down in front of you. "I'll just take this."

Without warning, he slides a silver ring from your finger, and it disappears in his pocket before you get your bearings. Stepping farther away from you, he trains his gun at you again, backing away. "Now, you stay there for a bit, and we'll forget that this ever happened."

You wish you could, but there's a reason you clean houses of old hags instead of pawning a valuable ring. "That belonged to my mother," you say, unable to keep the grief out of your voice. "Please, mister, I can get you more money."

He freezes on the spot, considering your words. "I'll bring it back. Promise."

Before you can argue about it, he disappears into the dark. You run after him, but there's a soft whistle, and then you hear a horse galloping away. "You bastard!" you scream after him, not caring that other thieves might be around. They better not try anything with you tonight.

------

It's been a week since you lost your most valuable possession. Now, you don't care about Mrs. Jefferson's stupid rule and bring your gun along wherever you go. Standing in front of your door, you feel a sense of dread. You turn around, pointing your gun at the stranger behind you.  

"Good evening, miss," he says, walking into the light. 

"You got some nerve, coming back here," you growl.

The man holds up his hands and dares to smile at you. You hate that it makes him even more attractive. "Promised to bring this back," he says, holding up a small object. 

Your ring is glistening in the dim light. "Why?" you ask, not quite believing what you see.

"See, I was just trying to help a friend who found himself in jail," he explains, "I didn't mean to rob you at all."

"How would my ring get your friend out of jail?"

"Pawned the ring, played some poker, got the ring back, paid the bounty," he says. "So thank you for getting my friend out, I guess."

You wish you could say something witty, but the man seems to tell the truth. If he does, it's impressive, but what really gets you is how thoughtful he was about it. "You bought my ring?"

"You said it was your mother's. I didn't want to cause any grieve."

He takes a step forward, holding out the ring at arm's length so you can grab it without having him close. You hold up your hand, and he drops the ring into your palm, stepping away again. "I figure that makes us even. We can go our separate ways, and nobody needs to know."

It's reasonable and precisely what you should do, but you've never been reasonable a day in your life. The fact that he got you still burns hot in your chest, and deep down, you know you won't forget him that easily. Besides, you don't want to let him go just yet.

"Even?" you blurt out. "I already grieved for a week, not knowing that I would get the ring back. You robbed me, and you assaulted me. We're not even."

He nods solemnly at the words. "Fair point. Then what do you suggest we do?"

You look him over, and despite telling yourself that you should just walk away, another voice deep inside reminds you how well built this man is, how polite, and how complicit. It makes all kinds of wrong ideas pop up in your head.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Taci-," he says, but stops himself by biting his lip. "Arthur, it's Arthur."

He could have easily given you a fake name, but he chose not to. You know how he looks, you have your ring back, and you still have your gun pointed at him. Right now, you're holding all the cards, most of them because he freely gave them to you. 

"Come over here," you say, sounding much more in control than you feel. Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he comes closer, and you step back into an alley that goes by your house. "Closer."

"I hope you're not planning on shooting me," he says, but follows you anyway.

"Would you beg for your life?"

"No," he says, and you know it to be true. He might do as you say, but it's his choice. He doesn't fear you or your gun. It makes matters even more exciting.

Your heart pounds faster at the thought what you're about to do. It's madness, but that's what makes it so appealing. You point your gun to the ground. "On your knees. Right here."

Again, Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he walks over without pause, falling to his knees, right into the dirt at your feet. The sight of him as he looks up to you is intoxicating, and you feel the warmth growing between your legs. "You'll do exactly as I say or I'll shoot. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Lift up my skirt," you say, and Arthur keeps looking at your face while his hands reach for the fabric without hesitation. As he lifts it up, you can feel the cold air around your legs, making you shiver slightly. 

You use your free hand to stick your skirt into your belt, keeping it in place. Then you nod to Arthur. "Pull down my underwear."

You had partners undress you before, but giving the orders turns you on more than you thought. Arthur does as you say, but his head is down, and you miss his intense gaze. You reach down and tip your fingers against his chin. "Eyes up here, cowboy."

Arthur looks up, and despite the dim light, you think that he's blushing a little bit. You can't believe that he's that innocent, but right now, the sight does wonders to the heat in your lower belly. Even worse is the thought of how this must look for someone who walks by. You're more exposed than you've ever been in your life, but having Arthur in front of you like this makes you feel powerful at the same time. 

You take Arthur's hat, putting it on your own head before fisting your fingers into his hair. As you pull him closer, you whisper: "Now, if you want us to be even, you better do a good job."

Arthur keeps looking up to you, his cheeks even more flushed. "Yes, ma'am."

If you weren't already burning, his obedient tone might do the trick. Eager to finally get what you want, you force his face between your legs. 

At first, Arthur's tender, brushing his lips over your skin as if he's kissing your mouth. It takes all your willpower not to push him further, and it pays off. The kissing and nibbling arouse you more and more and the first time his hot tongue brushes over you, it feels like a stroke from a whip, hitting deep into your core. 

You put away the gun, needing your hand free to hold on to a nearby post. Arthur doesn't notice. He keeps licking you with long, hot strokes before dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips. For a moment, you feel embarrassed about how wet you are, but then Arthur moans between your legs. "Jesus, girl," he curses before diving back in.

His eagerness spurs you on to move, and you roll your hips, grinding against Arthur's face. You try your best not to be too rough, but Arthur keeps moaning, uncaring if anybody hears it. Then he begins to shift his legs, and as you look down, you can see the bulge between his legs. You let him wiggle for a moment, before putting your boot right between his legs.

Arthur stops moving immediately, his deep breaths the only sound in the narrow alley. You move just enough that your boot touches him, but without any pressure. "I wouldn't move too much if I were you," you tease. "After all, we won't want you to get too comfortable, right?"

"Right, miss," Arthur breathes, "of course."

"Back to work then, honey."

You still have your hand in Arthur's hair, but you don't need to push him. He buries himself between your legs, his soft beard brushing along your thighs as he licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. You wish you could give him more orders, but all you can focus on is the tension building up between your legs. 

At first, you don't even notice how Arthur's hand glides from your body upwards, but then he carefully cups your breast with his large hand, knitting the soft flesh. When you don't object, he gets more daring. With his thumb, he keeps rubbing the same spot until your nipple stands up, pressing through the thin fabric.

While his tongue dives into you, he squeezes your nipple between his fingers. Your hips buck, and this time it's you who can't hold in a moan. His hand moves to your other breast, and you can feel his other hand against your leg. It slowly rides up with a firm grip as if he wants you to know what he's doing. You have a chance to stop him, but no intention to do so.

Arthur leans back a bit, his tongue dragging over your clit in slow strokes. Then he runs his fingers along your folds, getting them wet. He moves one finger deeper inside, still giving you an out. Instead, you push down on it, making him grown. No longer teasing, he adds a second finger, sliding in and out of you at a slow pace. 

Not for long, though. Your insides are burning, and with the way Arthur teases all your weak spots, there's no chance you can hold on much longer. Desperate to feel more, you tighten your grip on his hair and hold on to him while grinding over his face. Without meaning to, your boot pushes down a little, and after an initial curse, Arthur moves under you, rubbing against your boot. 

He keeps moaning between your legs, each sound spurring you on even more. He no longer has a chance to do much but hold on to you. You use his fingers and face as you please, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. When you can feel that you're about to come, you press Arthur so close that he can't breathe. His sounds are muffled, and he struggles to move but can't escape. Having that power over him is all that you need, and you come so hard that your whole body shakes. 

You hold on to Arthur for just a moment longer, and his hands grip your thighs as if he wants to push you off, but ops to dig into your flesh instead. Then his body goes rigid, and you pull back his head to see his face as he comes himself, his cock twitching under your boot. It can't be comfortable, but he moans like any whore you ever heard, hips bucking till he's all spent.

You finally let go off him and hold on to the wall behind you instead. Both of you take your time to just breathe for a while. Then you pull out a handkerchief and hand it to him. There's no use cleaning yourself up with it. You're so wet, you can feel your juice smeared all over your thighs, so you just pull down your dress.

Arthur is cleaning himself up, still on his knees. It's strange to look at him. You know nothing about him, but after what just happened, you can hardly call him a stranger. 

He holds up the handkerchief for you to take, his gaze almost bashful. "Are we even now?"

"Yes," you say, not able to tease him anymore, "we're even."

You put away the handkerchief and offer Arthur your hand to get up. He's heavy, not quite able to stand yet, so he leans against the wall next to you. After a quick glance at his pants, he looks over to you. "You're an evil woman."

"Am I?" you say, laughing.

He nods. "Wish I would have met you years ago."

You take a look at his pants as well and regret that you didn't really see him come. Arthur catches your eye and winks at you as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. You quickly look away, trying not to blush, and your eyes move further down.

"Since I made you kneel down in the dirt, how about you come inside and clean yourself up," you suggest. "This is my house right here."

"You want me to come inside?" Arthur says, a nasty grin playing around his lips.

You hit his shoulder but nod. "As long as you don't steal anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Promise."

"Go on then, cowboy," you say, moving your hand to the handle of your gun.

Arthur lifts up his hands and walks in front of you as if you're holding him at gunpoint. It gives you an excellent chance to check out the goods from behind, and boy, do you like what you're seeing. 

This is going to be a long night. 

[turtletotem]

Betrothed

Behold, @ikeracity‘s Cherik fic reward for winning a Star Bright party challenge! Prompt was "I never knew it but apparently I'm heir to the throne and have been betrothed to you since I was three" -- came out as something close to a Princess Diaries AU + arranged marriage! (Also on AO3.)

.

"But why should I have to marry him?" Charles wailed, knowing he sounded like a petulant toddler instead of a nearly-grown-man of sixteen, but feeling helpless to stop it. He'd felt helpless quite a lot lately, ever since the prime minister of the obscure little nation of Genosha showed up at his door and told him he was now their king.

"I mean, technically you wouldn't exist if not for him, so it's the least you can do," said Raven, and sucked frappe foam through her straw with an amazingly obnoxious noise. Sprawled against the sofa at one end of his dressing room—he had a dressing room now—Raven looked completely at ease in the rich royal surroundings, which she ought to be, having grown up in them. Lady Ravenna Evangeline Penelope Margaret Mystique Darkholme was Charles's newly-discovered first cousin, and the single best thing to come out of all this mess.

"What do you mean, I wouldn't exist?" Charles said as his stylist staff—he had stylist staff—continued zipping and buttoning him into a sinfully expensive tuxedo.

"No one told you? Erik Lehnsherr's parents saved your dad's life. They were on their way to the hospital to have Erik when they saw your dad being hustled into a van by terrorists. Erik's mother—Erik's pregnant, in labor mother—fought them off with her handbag. So your dad promised that their child would marry his heir and become prince consort of Genosha."

"Well, that was ever so nice of my father," Charles said. "To give his eldest child away in marriage before I was even born."

"To be fair, even after you were born, no one really expected you to be heir to the throne. Brian was supposed to get married and have legitimate children at some point."

Which, Charles supposed, was why no one had ever bothered to tell him his father was not just from Genosha, but king of Genosha. No one had ever bothered much with Charles anyway, unless they needed a punching bag. At least now that he'd moved to this ridiculous palace in Genosha, Charles would never have to see his stepfather again.

"But this whole marriage idea is barbaric." He was wailing again. "The Lehnsherrs deserve a reward, certainly, but can't we just give them money? A lot of money? As much money as they want? Instead of making me marry some strange guy I've never met? I mean, it's lucky I'm even open to marrying a guy at all, what if my father's heir had been straight?"

"Sexual attraction isn't a required element of an arranged marriage anyway," Raven shrugged. "And same-sex marriage has been legal in Genosha for over a century—honestly it was never not legal, but it got made explicit… yeah, over a hundred years ago now. And Erik's not gonna be some strange guy you've never met. You're meeting him now! By the time you get married in two years, you'll be old friends."

Charles made a face, and Raven laughed, handing off her empty coffee cup to a passing staff member and unwrapping the cookie she'd bought with it.

"This is just how it works for royalty, Charles," Raven said, a little more seriously. "Sucks that you weren't able to grow up with the idea, but it is what it is."

"You're royalty, do you have a betrothed lurking somewhere?"

"I'm not royalty, I'm nobility. If you kick the bucket without an heir, then I might end up royalty. Until then, my parents know I'd scratch their eyes out if they tried to arrange my life for me." She grinned, all teeth.

"Oh, so it's all right for me, but when it's your life—"

"I don't mean it's all right for you! Just that this is how it is, whether you like it or not."

"Yeah? And what if I just refuse to do it? Then what?"

"Then probably they won't let you be king after all and you'll have to go back home to your mom and stepdad."

Charles's face crumpled in disgust.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Raven said, and shoved her entire cookie in her mouth.

Charles made a frustrated whining noise. "But it's so wrong! For someone else, someone who's dead now even, to decide who I should marry? Who I have to spend the rest of my life with, and tough luck if I ever fall in love with someone else?"

"Close your eyes, Your Majesty," murmured a stylist, and brushed powder over his face, making him sputter.

"Raven, what if Erik's terrible?" Charles said as soon as his face was free again. "What if he's mean and selfish and greedy? What if he's like Kurt and just out for himself? What if he's some narcissistic jerk who's going to make my life miserable? What if he's stupid? There's nothing morally wrong with being unintelligent, but I don't think I could stand it, Raven, being trapped all day every day with a stupid person, I'd go mad—I don't mean to sound vain, but it's no use pretending I'm not bright, my test scores—"

"You haven't even mentioned 'what if he's ugly,'" Raven said, sounding amused.

"His looks are hardly the most significant thing," Charles said stiffly. "It's much more important that he be a good companion, a good partner, and a good co-ruler for Genosha." His bottom lip trembled, but he held it together while the stylists finished tweaking him and left, before the words burst out of him. "Oh, Raven, what if he's hideous? What if I'm trapped with him forever and I can't even stand to look at him?"

"What if he can't stand to look at you? None of this was his idea either, you know. Oh, Charles, I didn't mean it!" Raven cried when Charles gave her a horrified, near-tearful look. "I was just teasing! Come here." She folded him into a tight hug. Raven was like that; the first thing she'd done when they met was hug him. Charles wasn't used to hugs, but he'd already decided he liked them, at least from Raven.

"Charles, listen to me," Raven said. "You are adorable. You are sweet and clever and good and full of love, and Erik Lehnsherr is lucky as hell to get you. If he doesn't appreciate you like he should, you divorce his ass and tell the prime minister and the whole cabinet to do whatever they dare about it. You hear me?"

Charles sniffled, wiping away the tears Raven's hug had squeezed out, and nodded. "I hear you."

"Good. Now let's go introduce you to this guy and see if he deserves you."

"It's not about whether he deserves me," Charles said as Raven tugged him out the door and down the corridor, past museum-quality oil paintings and crystal statuettes. "It's about the fact that a marriage arranged without any input or consent from the couple themselves is a human rights violation! It's about the fact that when we marry I'll still only be eighteen years old and that's an insane age to make a lifetime commitment! It's about the fact that Erik's mother doing one heroic deed almost twenty years ago doesn't mean her son will make a good ruler! It's about the fact that the heart cannot be legislated and sexual compatibility is important in a marriage and I don't want to marry Erik Lehnsherr—"

He stopped dead as Raven opened a door, revealing the young man within, and a very tiny internal Charles-voice said very sheepishly, Never mind.

Erik Lehnsherr—and so it had to be, there was no one else in the room—was absolutely gorgeous, with the whip-thin grace of a hunting cat and the cheekbones of a god. He had intense, enigmatic eyes the grey-blue color of a winter sky, and he was using them to stare at Charles just as speechlessly as Charles was staring at him.

Raven pushed Charles ahead of her into the room. "Charles, this is Erik. Erik, this is Charles. Good luck."

And she backed out of the room and closed the door.

"Raven, come back—!"

Charles's wasn't the only voice who had said the words. Startled, he turned back toward Erik, who had a hand extended toward the door as if to pull Raven back into the room.

"Do… you know Raven?" Charles asked.

"Of course I know Raven, we've grown up together." Erik continued staring at him, and it was hard to say whether he looked annoyed or terrified. He shifted his feet awkwardly and scratched at his dark auburn hair. "Um, hi. I'm Erik." He put out a hand.

"Charles." He tried not to visibly react as Erik shook his hand, tried not to let on that the most beautiful person he'd ever seen was touching him. "I wish I'd grown up with Raven, she's much better company than my stepbrother. How did you… why…?"

"King Brian was basically my godfather," Erik said, a shadow of grief passing over his face. "I've spent as much time at this palace as I have at my own home, being trained and educated for the day I would help rule the kingdom… For a while I was afraid I'd have to marry Raven, until the council confirmed you come before her in the succession."

"Afraid? Don't you like her?"

"Oh, I like her very much, but she's not…" Erik's cheeks reddened. "I mean, she's a girl, and I prefer… um…"

"Oh, good!" Charles couldn't help bursting out. "Me too!"

"Really?" Erik's smile, Charles thought, changed his whole face, transforming him from an incredible chiseled artwork into a real person, slightly odd and awkward and imperfect and wonderful. Charles blushed and looked away.

His gaze landed on a chessboard, on the table in front of Erik, and he belatedly realized that was what Erik had looked up from when Raven opened the door. "Oh, do you play?"

"I'm head of the team at my school," Erik said with shy pride. "Sometimes I could even beat Brian. Do you? Play chess, I mean?"

"I'm head of the team at my school," Charles said, unable to keep from laughing. "Or I was. Now that I live in Genosha, I might end up competing for your spot."

Erik's smile widened. "You're welcome to try. Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're the king. And my betrothed. And—" But he didn't finish that sentence, just got redder in the face, and turned to reset the chess board.

So Charles sat down with the young man he was being barbarically forced to marry, who was not stupid, not ugly, not any of the things Charles had feared he would be, and played chess far into the night.

[gatheringroses]

I highly doubt that anyone that sees this post will even know what the hell is going on with my life, or care, but I’m not writing this for sympathy. I’m writing it for my sanity. Long ago ( or maybe not so depending on how one looks at it ) I wrote for pleasure, I write to process things, it was my therapy if you will. If you’d like to skip over this, I won’t hold it against you.

I, am many things.  Daughter, care giver, friend, aunt, godmother. You know all of those hokey cliches that we attach to women that have fallen into the care giver role. Lost both of my parents at the start of 2020, being thrown for a loop and trying to process it. I ended up selling what little I owned and am still trying to sell off the property to the place I called home . Ended up setting up house with a cousin who, as some may know, has been...interesting to say the least. At first I thought she was just overly sensitive to the world and it’s workings. I’ve learned now that she’s a leech and passive aggressively manipulative. She’s blown through various family members and has no idea how to stand on her own two feet. She expects others to just simply take care of her while she floats through the world because she’s “too sick to do anything.” I’ve tried being understanding. I’ve tried just about damn near everything short of packing my shit and leaving her to rot  ( believe me there are days when just running from her and her ever changing mood fluctuations sounds like heaven. ) The 911 calls, the special diets, doctor’s appointments, midnight car rides with the hammer down to get to her because she’s two hours away at a friend’s house and all but projectile vomiting because she ‘ate something that didn’t agree with her.’ even more doctor’s appoints and vouching for her that she’s ill. I think that’s the sticking point. She made me a pawn in her game to get exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t give two shits that I care. That I lose sleep routinely getting up and checking to see if she’s still breathing. That I work myself into knots doing jobs that cause my hands to chap, my back to ache or for me to come home with a ringing in my ears and clothes that smell like booze. She doesn’t know how hard to a God, that I sincerely think has forgotten that I exist or has simply turned his back to me, that she’d pull through this last time she had a seizure before my very eyes again. I’m strictly a shower person now. I can’t take the sound of sloshing water or the scent of overly scented bubble bath. 

I grew up in a household where Mom didn’t have a maternal bone in her body and Dad was too afraid of not seeing me again to *do* something, like, oh I dunno divorce her. But I digress, perhaps I put too much emphasis on family as I did not have the traditional home life one would expect. Knock down drag out fights where you see your mother chuck an enamel roasting pan on Thanksgiving at your father’s head because he said the meal was ‘good’ instead of excellent kind of colors your world in the wrong way. So does hearing your mother constantly bad mouth not only you but your father isn’t great either. Being belittled in front of friends was a regular occurrence until I stopped having people over.  I was brought up in a household where I was wanted by only one parent and virtually hated for being alive by the other. “I don’t want to even look at you.’ and ‘Hey, stupid what’re you flinching for?’ were favorite sayings.  So, yeah, that childhood partnered with very firm handling in the physical punishment department I learned to make myself useful, because ‘if you’re useful they can’t get mad at you.’  Partner all of that with the shock of losing both parents in one fell swoop ( a total of 56 days. )  grief came at me harder than I’d ever expected it to. ( I don’t care what anyone says, you can still grieve a parent even if you hated them or they hated you. You mourn what you could have had not the what was. )has created a sort of a hellish mix of fuck knows what in me.  My once type A personality and fear of the unknown has been flipped. I’m very very slowly rebuilding myself one brick at a time. 

  I mean I’ve always thought I never quite belonged anywhere, maybe it’s just my personality or the fact that home was fucked up, I don’t know. I’m currently working two jobs and have a third for seasonal work lined up. I put my entire life on hold to care for my parents, did I have to? No. I had a strong sense of duty to do it. Why? Not one damn clue. Maybe I thought if I showed my mother just how devoted I was to her she’d somehow finally love me. It didn’t happen. Pretty damn sad isn’t it?   I essentially painted myself into a corner the first time I’m going to be damned if it’s going to happen a second. I deserve to go out and live. I deserve to experience what this world has to offer, fall in love again, live a life with no regrets. I’m not doing that stagnating here caring for someone who, quite frankly has used me right out of the gate. Pretty words and compliments drip from a liar’s tongue like honey from a hive. I’ve come to hate the taste of honey these days. I deserve to be high on life and drunk on the strange brew of new experiences. I would give everything I’ve got ( at this point it isn’t much but it’s all I’ve got ) to set up a more stable base for myself and not have to worry about coming home from work and finding my cousin dead. Her sisters have made their peace with it, I, for some ungodly reason haven’t. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to not have anyone give a damn about you when you’re down? Maybe I’m just a soft touch. But that softness is hardening. A bitterness is sinking into me. Girl has a pain pill problem along with a slew of mental issues on top of an eating disorder. I’ve taken to locking up my medical marijuana and Xanax just in case.  I’ve also taken to busying myself with anything so I don’t have to talk to her. If I do I’m going to blow up and there won’t be anything left of her. I don’t want to be an angry person or a bitter one or worse yet a hellish mixture of both. How can I love someone and hate them all at the same time? Am I remembering the ‘hate the sin but love the sinner?’ mindset from when I attended church? Or am I just slowly becoming numb? I truly know what it’s like to be hated and I wouldn’t wish that on a single soul.  

Are you at the point where you’re scratching your head and  going ‘why the hell am I reading this crazy bitch’s blog?’ or ‘why am I reading this?’ or ‘Please tell me she’s in therapy.’  I’d like to say. I’ve no idea, you were bored? I haven’t got a clue, why am I writing it? Yes, yes I am in therapy. It’s helping but I’ve got a few decades of damage to try and undo.  I do, however have a wonderful support system a few assorted family members, old friends and some new ( you know who you are. If you’ve read this mention roses the next time we have a chat. ;) ) that have been more than kind and generous with their time and advice. I do realize my life has hit a low point. But it can’t always rain. My faith is unwavering and my well of hope is endless. I’ve got to keep going and moving forward without regret. 

[knights-of-onyx]

Blake’s Return

Hey everyone, so here is a little something I threw together. A little idea I had for a while now was what if Blake never knew what happened during the Fall of Beacon since she took off. Here is my take on how she finds out during the reunion at the end of Volume 5.

ENJOY

The sounds of cheering, police, and airships could be heard outside. That didn’t matter to anyone, especially RWBY, reunited at last after almost half a year. Jaune smiled at the four girls, no, huntresses hugging in the centre of Haven academy. At his side were Ren and Nora, recovering from a lengthy fight against Hazel, Adam, Emerald, and Mercury. So much happened so quickly, one minute they were confronting Lionheart, the next they were fighting, and Yang’s mom got thrown into the mix. Then he saw Salem, the Queen of Grimm. He dreaded the fight to come, but that was for another day.

“Jaune!” he heard someone call. He looked and saw Sun run up to him, with a couple who Jaune assumed to be Blake’s parents we coming behind him. “Hey dude! Long-time no see, how’s it hanging?” said Sun.

Jaune had to bite back a laugh. “Oh you know, saved the world, no big deal. Thanks to you guys though.” He turned to face the Faunus couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Belladonna I assume? Thank you so much, I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“No need for formalities son, my name is Ghira,” boomed the mountain of a man. “And this is my wife Kali.”

“A pleasure to meet you…”

“Jaune. Jaune Arc,” introduced Jaune. “And these are my friends and teammates Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren.”

“Nice to meet you!” said Nora.

“Ren is fine, a pleasure Ghira and Kali,” said the stoic man.

“Hey you three!” Jaune turned to see Blake running up to them. It truly has been too long since they last saw each other. RWY were walking up behind her. “It’s been too long!”

“Indeed it has Blake, too long indeed,” replied Jaune. “So, who is she?” asked Jaune, pointing to the girl by the doorway.

Blake waved over her old friend. “Guys, this is Ilia, my friend from… the White Fang,” she said in a disappointed tone.

Sensing the tension, the newcomer broke the ice. “That time is behind us Blake, these friends of yours seem to understand that,” said Ilia.

“Yup,” said Weiss. “It takes time to heal, we all understand that.”

“Surprised to hear that from a Schnee,” muttered Ilia before realizing that Weiss must have heard her due to the wince. “No offence.”

Weiss sighed. “None taken, I understand the previous prejudices, as unfortunate as they are.”

“So does someone want to explain what that thing was?” asked Sun.

“If you’re referring to who that monster was, that was Salem, the Queen of Grimm.”

“The Grimm have a master?!” asked Ghira with definite worry in his voice.

“It’s a long story, I’m sure Qrow will be able to fill in you guys better than I can,” replied Jaune.

Blake looked back towards Ruby and Yang’s uncle who was caring for a young boy. He definitely had more than a few questions to answer. She looked around at Haven, imagining what it could have been full of students. But, she was happy, to be surrounded by her friends and family once again; however, she noticed something was off. “Hey Jaune?” asked Blake.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Pyrrha?”

************

Blake blamed herself for a lot of things, she was incredibly self-destructive and critical of all of her actions. If she could go back and not ask such a simple question, she would. The air was thick of dread and despair. The look on Jaune’s face was sure to haunt her dreams, she never expected him to look so broken, so empty. But yet, he simply took a deep breath and said that his former partner was dead, his voice void of any and all emotion. He was masking his pain she realized, they all were. She took off out of Beacon during the Fall as she couldn’t handle Yang losing an arm. If she stuck around, she would have heard the news: Pyrrha Nikos, the Mistral Champion of Destiny, was dead. Now it hit her like a truck, she ran away from her partner from losing an arm. A friend had to live with his partner being dead, feeling entirely powerless to prevent it. He blamed himself that much she could tell. The entire gang had moved themselves back to the house Ruby had been staying at while in Mistral. They were filled in during the walk back, mostly by Qrow, as Jaune and Ruby were quiet.

“I can’t believe it!” screamed Sun. “Why was she killed? She held so much promise, why?” His fists and tail were clenched in anger. “Damn that Cinder, when I get my hands on her, I’ll…”

“Enough Sun,” said Blake. She was hoping not to tear open old wounds, but it appeared she was too late.

Jaune got up and made his way to the door. “I’m getting some air.”

“Jaune, I’m sorry,” said Blake after him but he didn’t even stop to acknowledge her. The room fell silent after the door slammed behind him. “I should have just kept my mouth shut,” she muttered to herself.

“It’s not your fault Blake, you didn’t know,” said Weiss, once again coming to Blake’s rescue.

“She didn’t know since she ran,” said Yang bitterly. She got up from the couch.

“Yang!” cried Ruby. “That was rude!”

“I deserve it though, I did run away,” said Blake.

“Where are you going firecracker?” asked Qrow who emerged from Oscar’s room after he heard a door slam.

“To talk to Jaune.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, all things considered,” replied Qrow.

“I don’t care; I need to talk to him. Someone needs to talk to him. I’m going, and you can’t make me stay.” Her eyes were red as she made her way to the door, exiting almost as fast as Jaune did.

“Are you not going to stop her?” asked Ghira.

“No, because she knows what to say,” replied Qrow.

“How so?”

“She’s my niece.”

************

The air was cool, as expected for an evening. Jaune’s legs dangled off the edge of the yard side cliff their house was situated on. He wasn’t mad at Blake, more so himself. He still blamed himself for what happened, and how he was powerless to stop Pyrrha. Blake didn’t know, he just didn’t expect it to hurt so much when she brought it up. He heard the door to the house close, assuming it was Blake going to apologize. There was nothing to apologize for; he just wasn’t in the mood to talk right now.

“Mind if I join you?” Yang? That was unexpected.

“Honestly Yang, I kinda do mind, I’m not in the mood right now,” he said, not even bothering to turn to look at her.

She sat next to him on his right side. “You know I’m not going to take no for an answer right?”

Jaune sighed before looking at her. “Yeah, I know.”

“She was so stupid to ask that, don’t blame yourself Jaune, blame Blake, it was out of place.”

“I’m not blaming her Yang, she didn’t know, it’s not her fault.”

“If she stayed, she would have known!”

“Yang, I’m not in the mood for this. You need to forgive Blake, now I’m going to bed,” said Jaune as he got up to leave. Yang’s hand gripped his wrist.

“Jaune, we need to talk.”

“Do we?”

Yang sighed. “Look, you’re right, I don’t mean to blame Blake, she did come back after all, it will just take time to heal I think. I want to talk about you though.”

“Me?”

“I know what it’s like to watch a man shut himself down after losing someone he cares about. My dad, he acts all brave and tough, but I know that he’s hurting. I know that he misses both of my moms; that he sometimes cries himself to sleep in grief. But he stays strong for Ruby and I, even if it hurts him doing it. He feels as if no one can help him, even though I try.” Yang looks Jaune in the eye. “Jaune, you mean a lot to us. You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to see yourself dig your own grave over Pyrrha; she wouldn’t want you to do this. She would want to see you strong.” She grabs his hand gently. “Jaune, promise me that you’ll talk to me, that you can just let everything go. I’m here for you, so please, promise me.”

Jaune looks away in contemplation. After a brief moment, he sighs. “Alright Yang, I promise. On two conditions though.”

Yang groans. “Let me guess, you want me to forgive Blake.”

“That’s one.”

“So what’s the other?”

“You confide in me everything about your arm. If it hurts, or if you ever feel scared, not that you will, you tell me. If I’m going to confide in you, you have to do the same to me.”

Yang lets go of his hand before looking down at her prosthetic. “Alright, I guess I can do that.”

“Then I promise.” Jaune smiles and Yang pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks Vomit Boy.”

Jaune groans. “And the moment is ruined.” Yang simply laughs as she pulls him into a tighter hug.

Check out the “sequel”: Weiss’ Dilemma

[moiralovestowrite]

A Titan’s Gamble Chapter 3

The Drifter made Ryan an offer. It was simple, the Titan helped the man with this project he called Gambit, banked motes of darkness and helped with the occasionally deal. In return Drifter would help him locate Uldren and the others that murdered Cayde. At first Ryan was hesitant. Drifter had put a rule forward that the Vanguard couldn’t know a thing, that they were to be in the dark the entire time. Ryan could lie, say that he was looking for the snake woman, struggling to find her trail but anything more and Drifter promised he would make the Titan’s life a living hell. Ryan had never done anything without telling the Vanguard first. After the two agreed on terms, Ryan went to his small apartment inside the tower and collapsed onto his bed, his armor still on and everything. Yogi appeared with a chirp and sighed at the sight of his Guardian. “Are you going to take the armor of or…” Ryan grunted as he listened to the sass coming from his ghost. “In a minute, I’m tired man. Have some pity.” The ghost gently flew around Ryan’s head and huffed. “Do you really think that man is going to help us?” The Titan thought for a moment. He had acted on instinct, trusting that Drifter would play his part. “Time will tell I guess.” With a soft grunt, Ryan pushed himself off the bed and began to remove his armor. The man’s body was covered in scars, you could see each battle unfold on his skin. The biggest scar he had was in the middle of his stomach. It looked as if someone tried to cut him open and eat what was inside which wasn’t far from the truth. Hive were nasty little buggers, if it hadn’t been for Cayde-6 he would be dead. The man’s skin was pale and rough after many years of violence. After the armor hit the floor with a thud, Ryan reached for his glasses, placing them upon his face before making his way to the bathroom. He was quick to get cleaned up and ready for bed. The Titan wanted sleep more than anything at the moment. “I’ll find them buddy...I won’t let them get away.” As Ryan walked back into his bedroom, the man crawled into the bed and passed out almost instantly.

Ryan woke up with a jolt. His entire body was coated with sweat, his nails had clawed into his skin leaving rather nasty marks. It reminded the Titan of when he was re-born. Sadly nightmares had been flooding his dreams ever since Cayde’s death. It had been two days and still he couldn’t escape those images. His friend’s corpse on the ground, clutching the shell of his former ghost, the woman with the snake mask laughing at him. The palms of Ryan’s hands rubbed at his brown eyes as the man let out a soft sigh. “What’d I miss Yogi?” Without even missing a beat, the Titan prepared for duty. Today was the day he would head to the Tangled Shore with Drifter and help him out with a deal. Hopefully he could get some Vanguard patrols in so no one would notice him gone. It was Drifter’s idea and honestly it was kinda smart, not that Ryan wanted to admit it. “You have a message.” The ghost said softly. The creature of light was almost nervous as he spoke. “It’s from Zavala.” “Shit.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Zavala asked, anger and confusion filling the large office. The awoken had no idea why Ryan was being this idiotic, normally the Titan could track anyone down in a matter of hours. “No one’s ever heard of her, it’s like she doesn’t exist. I got a lead for a place called the Tangled Shore but-” “THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE?!” The Titan Vanguard’s voice boomed, his eyes were like cold steel and his body towered over Ryan’s. The Titan had never felt this kind of fear towards Zavala before, Ryan always looked at him like a hero, maybe even a father figure but now? All he could think was he needed to get away. This was terrifying, he had never seen the Vanguard Titan like this, was this all because of grief? Ryan was quick to leave the office, heading towards the hanger. “I didn’t think Zavala could get that mad…” Yogi said shaking slightly. Poor little ghost. The thing couldn’t handle this kind of stess. Ryan gave Yogi a weak smile and gently cupped the ghost’s shell in his hands. “Hey, listen. I’d never let him hurt you.” The Titan spoke in a gentle tone, attempting to make his partner feel safe. “I know, it’s just-I don’t like the thought that Zavala WOULD hurt me. Or You!” Ryan looked down at his feet as he nodded. Zavala had turned into a monster. The ghost made a soft chirp and summoned Ryan’s ship as the two made their way into the hanger. Ryan was slightly nervous, he had never even heard of the Tangled Shore. A part of him wondered what he would find while the other part of him was ready for shit to hit the fan. The man, Drifter, said he was bringing the woman with him today. Ryan had to be ready for anything.

The flight over had been smooth, for the most part. Both him and Yogi talked, trying to comfort each other, making excuses for Zavala. He was just stressed! He was just tired! He was just overworked! The two fake laughed as they realized that none of it was true, the man had truly just slipped into a void of grief. Hopefully there would be a way to pull him out of it. Was there a way to end that kind of spiral? As they reached the Tangled Shore, Ryan gripped Cayde's gun. Banshee had patched it up as best as he could for the time being, it worked but not like it did before. The exo stated that Ryan needed to calibrate it by killing some shit with the Ace Of Spades which the Titan was more than willing to do. As the man left his ship, landing on a rough patch of ground his spine shivered. The view was gorgeous but completely ruined by the fighting that was taking place. It was like every creature was battling for supremacy. Fallen, Hive, CABAL!? This place was a festering eye sore with no real law. No wonder he had never heard of it before. As he took two steps from the spot Drifter had told him to land, a voice rang through the air. “There you are hero!” Ryan turned, facing the direction of the sound. There stood Drifter, only a few feet away with the woman who was dressed like a snake on his arm. The old man almost treated her like she was a trophy he earned. Her long brown hair was flowing in the shore’s breeze and her face was still hidden under her mask. She gave the Titan a small wave, he could tell she was smiling under the mask. “What took you so long?” Drifter laughed out as Ryan jogged over to them. “It was nothing, just some Vanguard business.” The woman giggled as she watched Drifter roll his eyes. “Yer such a goody two shoes, maybe we can change that huh?” The Drifter teased. As the two talked, the woman moved herself from Drifter’s side and walked towards the Titan. She stood a few inches away from him and held out her hand. “Hey, Ryan right? Call me Erebus.” Ryan almost snarled at the girl as he watched her try and shake his hand. Ryan could only feel disgust as he gazed upon her form. The Titan pushed his anger down and grabbed her fingers, shaking her hand harshly before pulling away. Erebus seemed unbothered and simply made her way back to Drifter’s side. “That your code name?” The Titan asked, attempting to hide his rage. The woman simply nodded giving the man hardly anything to work with. “Can’t have you knowing my real name now can I?” She joked, placing her hand upon her hip. Drifter could already tell this was gonna either end beautifully or with a bullet between Ryan’s eyes. “Alright kids, shall we?” The man gestured towards the long road. “Where are we going?” The Titan asked, getting ready to summon his sparrow. “We’re gonna see the Spider.”

The walk was long. Ryan had attempted to summon his sparrow but the other two refused to do the same, enjoying the trip. Drifter claimed it was like the quiet before a storm, take it all in before it was ruined. The woman nodded in agreement, hooking her elbow on Drifter’s arm as she removed her mask for the time being. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a soft earthy brown. She had light pink lips and freckles covering her nose. Erebus took a deep breath in, enjoying the fresh air before they arrived at Spider’s doorstep. She carefully put her mask back on while Drifter gripped his hand cannon. “Alright, you ready kid?” Ryan’s eyes were filled with confusion, the Titan thought that they were only there to make a simple glimmer deal, that this would get Spider talking about where that Uldren guy went. Where they gonna shoot up the place? What was happening? “Are we murdering someone, what’s with the gun?” The Titan demanded, his shoulders tensing up. Drifter smiled and shook his head. “Nah hero you got it all wrong. This is plan B. Always be ready, am I right brother?” The woman smirked watching the Titan get concerned, it was kinda cute, like a puppy who didn’t wanna do anything wrong and upset it’s masters. The guy was really under the Vanguard’s thumb huh? “Scared to break a few rules?” Erebus teased, tucking her bangs behind her ears. Ryan’s face heated up as he quickly whipped out the Ace Of Spades. “I break rules every day.” The man stated, attempting to seem cool causing both Drifter and the woman to laugh. “Well then, this will be easy for ya.” Ryan instantly realized he had made a grand mistake as they entered the Spider’s den.

[andrewmoocow]

Gravity Soul chapter 6: In Search of Pacifica, Another Enemy Returns? (originally posted on March 20, 2018)

AN: Welcome back from hiatus boys, girls and every other gender/sexuality! From here on out, Gravity Soul is going to get even insaner and you’re all coming along with me for the ride. Welcome one and all to the Quest for the Northwest arc, and now your new cipher brought to us by Mr. A1Z26. 1 12-9-20-20-12-5 7-9-18-12 2-25 20-8-5 14-1-13-5 15-6 14-15-18-20-8-23-5-19-20 23-1-19 2-15-18-14 20-15 2-5 20-8-5 22-5-18-25 2-5-19-20 14-15-23 19-8-5'19 11-14-15-3-11-5-4 15-21-20 3-15-12-4 20-15 19-1-22-5 8-5-18, 20-8-5-25 13-21-19-20 2-5 2-15-12-4

Mere hours later, the beastly Madness of Sloth formerly known as Preston Northwest charged through the woods of Gravity Falls with his wife Priscilla and their currently unconscious daughter Pacifica clutched in his large hands, startling many a woodland creature and supernatural oddity. “Please Preston, if you’re still in there, just let us go!” his wife cried trying to flee, but her words fell on deaf ears before the monster finally arrived at their former mansion, which was now property of Fiddleford McGucket, but something seemed off. It was now infested with monsters roaming its courtyard, the windows darker than the night sky and the roof having a large hole in it, allowing the light of the moon to shine upon the foyer. “Master Kishin Cipher, I have returned!” the Madness boomed entering the house. “Master, where are you?” he wondered looking around for his lord. “I believe he has other matters to attend to sir.” a diminuative elderly man dressed in all black with a pointy nose explained appearing before Preston. “I am Mosquito, at your service.” he cordially introduced himself. “I suppose you must be another one of his minions, correct?” “Of course we are, we’re all working for the same guy right!” another man called stepping into view. This one in particular had very pale skin, metal piercings, a fur-collared jacket and brown gloves that extended past his elbows. “Who’s the ruffian with you?” Northwest asked setting his captives down. “This ‘ruffian’ is my partner Giriko. We made a deal with Bill to resurrect a certain someone in exchange for our services.” Mosquito stated. Giriko got quite mad over the former philanthropist calling him a ruffian and got his face incredibly close to the other’s. “Who are you calling a ruffian?! You’re the ruffian here for being a terrible parent from what I’ve heard!” “SILENCE!” another voice roared before its owner crashed down into the floor through the hole, none other than Kishin Cipher. “Kishin Cipher, I have been expecting you my lord!” Mosquito distracted himself from the duo’s argument by kissing up to the fusion of Bill and Asura. “My most glorious, almighty, unholy-” Kishin Cipher interrupted him by literally zipping his mouth closed. “Skip the formalities Pointy and hand me the journal!” Although Mosquito’s speaking was muffled through the zipper, he complied giving his boss the second journal written by Stanford Pines. “Oh yes, finally someone gave me one of the journals for once!” the fusion cried in euphoria. “Now all I need are the other two and the ritual to get my power back will be complete!” Skimming through the book, he glanced at Giriko and the Madness of Sloth still fighting before shocking them with a wave of his finger, ending their tussle. “Quit it both of you!” “Okay then you big lug, no need to create another spark over this.” Giriko chuckled at his own terrible pun before getting serious again. “So what do we do with those two over there?” he wondered turning to the other Northwests. “Whatever you do milord, please have mercy on them.” Preston offered thinking for his family. “Oh isn’t that sweet? This man still cares for his family even after he’s been turned into a hideous creature! Whatever shall I do to please him?” Kishin Cipher mock-cried mulling over what to do before he finally came to a decision. “Oh I know! Golems, take the woman to the dungeon where she shall remain!” “But we made an agreement!” Preston roared as his wife was tossed into his family’s former panic room by a pair of large stone creatures. “Well I’m not one for keeping promises bub!” the Dream Kishin exclaimed before gesturing towards the still comatose Pacifica. “And place the girl in a special cage, we’ll need her for later.” The Golems did as they were told picking up the girl and sticking her in a gilded cage before it was raised to the ceiling. “What do you plan on doing with her?” Sloth wondered fearfully backing away. “You’ll see Mustachio. Now go outside and guard the front door!” The Madness of Sloth reluctantly complied before walking outside and taking his position. Cipher went back to eagerly scrolling through the journal before Giriko finally spoke up. “So what’s this ritual you were talking about?” the Deadly Demon Weapon wondered. “That is a very good question buzzface!” Kishin Cipher answered faux-affectionately pinching his cheek, much to his displeasure. “In order for me to regain my maximum power, I need the blood sacrifice of a human, a Witch and a Demon Weapon. I’ve already got one of them down, but all I need are the other two.” He produced an image of the Mystery Meisters before Giriko & Mosquito. “Kill every last one of them, but bring the old man and the Demon Scythe to me. Understand?” he commanded. “Yes master.” the two accepted before going on their way. “But master, what would happen if someone else got involved?” Mosquito inquired before Cipher grabbed him by the shirt collar. “What do you mean by someone else?! If you’re talking about him, then our plans will be ruined if he finds out! Now go already!” He finally dropped the Bloodsucker to the ground and retreated back into the shadows, presumably to recharge his energy as the two walked out of the mansion. “So explain to me again why we’re working with him if he looks like he wants us dead?” Giriko wondered. “Don’t you remember my boy, we originally made a deal with him to resurrect Lady Arachne in exchange for our services!” Mosquito exclaimed irritated at his partner’s forgetfulness before consoling himself and focusing on the task at hand. “But your incompetence doesn’t matter now, let us continue on our way.” The pair finally disembarked on their mission, confident that they will succeed but didn’t know what they were in for.

Meanwhile, deep in the woodlands of Gravity Falls, Dipper and Maka began making plans for an attack on Kishin Cipher with the rest of the party watching. “Okay everyone, here’s the plan.” Dipper began mapping out strategies. “It’s a long way to the mansion so it’s best that we all split up into groups to find a decent pathway to our destination.” He then began listing off the teams. “Mabel, Waddles, Maka, Soul, Crona & I will form the first team. Stan, you, Ford, Kid, Liz & Patty and Wendy form the second. Soos, Melody, McGucket, Stein, Spirit & Blair are Team #3. Finally Black Star, Tsubaki, Gideon and Ghost-Eyes will make up the fourth team. Any questions?” “I got one,” Mabel raised her hand. “how do we communicate with one another when our teams are far away from each other?” she asked. “That’s where these come in.” Maka stated pulling out a bag of flashlights and handing them out to each group. “Each team gets one flashlight they’ll have to share. For every five meters, one of you will have to flash it twice if it’s safe. If there’s trouble, flash it four times. As for other signals, all members within each team will give each other hand signals.” She formed her hand to make an OK symbol. “Use this whenever you’re in the clear.” Then she lowered three of her fingers down while the pinky & thumb pointed outward. “And this is for perilous situations. Are we clear on that?” The others nodded in agreement before Spirit raised his hand. “I think I got a good hand signal!” he exclaimed before he demonstrated said signal by clapping his hands, making a peace sign, then an OK sign and finally placing his left hand over his brow. “I think he’s saying "Your underwear is showin’”.“ Stan translated the signals. "Yeah boy!” Spirit cried fistbumping the great uncle while Maka watched in embarrassment. “Good grief.” “Before we proceed, I think we need to contact my father about the current situation.” Death the Kid suggested before extending his hand, causing a skull-shaped magic circle on the ground to appear and an image of Lord Death to pop out of it. “Hey there, hi there, ho there everybody! How are you all doing children?” the Shinigami cheerfully greeted. “We’re doing fine Lord Death. We contacted you because we’re about to go on an important mission.” Maka explained. “Who the devil is Mr. Tall Dark & Mysterious over here?” Stan wondered. “And what’s with that mask of his?” “Mr. Pines, I’d like you to meet my father Death.” Kid introduced the great uncle to his father. “Ah, so you must be one of my son’s new friends.” Death politely stated. “So wait, your father is literally the Grim Reaper?!” Stan exclaimed gaping at the Death God. “To be honest, I don’t really see the family resemblance.” “You must be Lord Death. The name’s Pines, Stanford Pines.” Ford greeted stepping forward. “They’re our great uncles and super cool too!” Mabel exclaimed. “Oh look, little Dipper and Mabel are here as well! What’s up with this mission I’ve heard about?” said Death. “Well here’s a question for you sir.” Dipper stated crossing his arms. “Have you ever heard of Bill Cipher?” Lord Death gasped at the boy’s question, as if he knew the dream demon from days long passed. After regaining his composure and answering. “Why yes, yes I have.” he stated. “He and I go way back. Hundreds of years ago, he plotted to unleash his weirdness upon the world but me and my eight guardians refused to have any of that. We found a way to break into his hideout in the Nightmare Realm and prevent his invasion, but I feared he would come back someday ready for revenge.” “Well that’s why we contacted you Mr. Death, he’s back and fused with this guy named Asura!” Wendy exclaimed which again sent Death into a tizzy. “Wait, Asura’s back?! How, and why?” he exclaimed. “He fused with Bill for one simple purpose: revenge.” Stein said turning his screw. “And now he’s kidnapped a young girl after brainwashing her father into becoming one of his minions.” “Oh my, that is quite perilous! I’ll promise to watch over you and make contact when all is said and done!” Death proclaimed doing a military salute as the hologram gave out. “Lord Death, out!” When the message finally ended, Dipper turned to the other teams. “Okay everyone, we all know what to do!” he announced raising his flashlight skyward. “For Pacifica!” “For Pacifica!” the others shouted before finally dispersing across the forest. All except for Wendy who stopped her younger friend and snatched the trapper cap from his head, replacing it with the pine tree hat she took to remember him by last summer. “Wanted to do it when you first came back, but I guess I lost track of time.” she said before running to catch up with the elder Pines, Kid and the Thompsons. And so, the great quest for Pacifica Northwest that would last them through the night finally began. Meanwhile with Lord Death, he had just ended the call before turning to gaze around his special room, pondering about their current situation. “So Asura’s back, just as I feared.” he reiterated in a hushed fearful tone unlike his usual wise eccentric personality. “I wonder if it’s finally time I tell Kid.” “Is something wrong sir?” a blue-skinned zombie entered the room without Death knowing. “Oh it’s nothing Sid, I’m just concerned for my son.” Death answered sheepishly. “Oh, you mean Kid? I’m sure he’s doing fine in Gravity Falls.” Sid replied. “No Sid, not just him.” the Shinigami corrected him. “The other one as well.”

Owls hooted loudly as Dipper’s team, consisting of himself, Mabel, Maka, Soul, Crona and Waddles wandered through the forest in search of a good pathway to the former Northwest mansion. “Are you sure we should be out when it’s this dark? I don’t know how to deal with this.” Crona moaned hiding behind Maka. “It’s gonna be okay Crona, you got us sticking by you all the way.” Mabel comforted him before Ragnarok popped out of the Demon Swordsman’s back. “Yeah, all that mushy power of friendship crap or something!” the Black Blood blade shouted giving his Meister a noogie. “Hey, quit it Ragnarok!” Just then, Waddles started oinking in fear and dashing toward Soul. “What’s up little guy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” the Demon Scythe tried to soothe him before the group spotted a snake slithering before them. “What are you all scared about, it’s just a snake.” Dipper said. “That’s not just any snake Dipper,” Maka exclaimed. “look at its scales!” The Pines brother nervously stepped forward to examine the reptile and much to his surprise, there were various arrows adorning its body. “That is definitely nothing like any snake I’ve seen!” he shouted as it snapped its jaws at him. “Correct child. In fact, I’m not just a snake at all.” the snake suddenly spoke to him in a female voice terrifying the Meisters in the twins’ group. “No, that’s impossible!” Maka cried preparing for a fight as Soul’s scythe form flew into her hands. “Oh it most definitely is Maka-chan.” The snake began morphing into a young woman of fairly average build with black dotted tattoos winding down both of her arms. She had yellow eyes with matching hair and was clad in a sleeveless black cloak but was barefoot, revealing black nail polish. To the Pines twins & Waddles she was a frightening sight, but to Maka, Soul and Crona, she was none other than Medusa Gorgon. “Is that supposed to be Medusa?” Mabel wondered clinging to Maka’s overcoat as the young Meister prepared for a rematch with the snake witch. “Yes, but I just can’t believe she’s still alive!” Maka replied readying her scythe. “Well then, why isn’t she turning us to stone?” The clearing suddenly became deathly quiet as Medusa tried to comprehend the little girl’s question. “What…did you just say?” she asked increduously. “I mean, isn’t Medusa supposed to be like some kind of crazy snake-haired lady who can turn anyone looking at her into stone?” “Wow Mabel, I honestly didn’t know you were that into Greek mythology.” Dipper gasped in astonishment. “Well to be honest Dipper, I mostly got it all from that movie from '97 we watched a lot when we were little.” Mabel said. “We had to replace the VCR three times because I had a crush on Herc-” “SILENCE!” Medusa shouted interrupting their random conversation with an arrow that gashed Mabel’s cheek and blew her back. “I’ve had enough of your meandering chatter little ones, now I must assassinate you for my new master Kishin Cipher!” she declared summoning more arrows from her person. “Oh my gosh, are you okay Mabel!” Dipper howled worrying for his sister. “I’m fine bro-bro, just go get help.” his sister groaned reeling from her injury. The boy immediately reached for his flashlight to contact the others before it was suddenly destroyed by one of the witch’s arrows. “You won’t be needing them now little Pine Tree.” “Oh my gosh, someone help us!” the boy began screaming for help as Maka and Crona engaged Medusa in combat.

“So if your dad’s Lord Death, then where’s Lady Death?” Stan asked as his group, also made up of Ford, Wendy, Kid, Liz and Patty, ventured through their neck of the woods. “To be frank, I never knew my mother or if I even had one at all.” Kid said. “Small world, my mom’s not around either.” Wendy added wrapping her arm around the young Shinigami’s shoulder. “She died when I was like a kid and it still really affects my family even to this day.” “Ditto, we all know what happened with me and Patty’s folks.” Liz affirmed before an arrow whizzed past them and landing on a nearby tree. “What was that?!” Patty cried. Racing over to where the arrow had landed on the tree, it suddenly vanished into thin air. “Just where did that come from?” Ford wondered. “I think it came from over there everyone, we should contact the others!” Stan cried picking up his group’s flashlight and flashing it four times, signaling the others to their side. “We got your message Stanley, what’s up?” Stein wondered. “We were just talking about moms and then an arrow just flew by our faces!” “An arrow? Oh geez, not her!” Black Star cried. “Her who boy?” Gideon wondered. “You’ll know when we show you Gideon, now follow us!” Stan exclaimed leading everyone else on the arrow’s path.

“I’m shocked you’re still siding with Lord Death’s cronies my child.” Medusa stated after defeating Maka and Soul while the Pines twins hid in fear of the witch. “And where is Ragnarok? I don’t suppose you made him into part of those tacky clothes, haven’t you?” Crona was enraged by his mother commenting on his current outfit and let out a mighty battle cry as he dashed towards her with Ragnarok in hand. “SCREECH RESONANCE!” “Seriously, defeated again?! I thought we were stronger than this!” Soul shouted rubbing his head in pain. “It’s not that we’re getting weaker, I think Medusa’s gotten stronger since we last saw her.” Maka guessed watching the mother and son clash. “You think it has something to do with Bill?” her partner asked. “Possibly, that would also explain the change in wardrobe.” “Kids, we’re coming!” Stan cried as he and the other groups raced towards them. “Grunkle Stan!” the twins cried rushing to their great uncle who simply glared at Medusa. “So you’re the hussy that was a terrible mom to Crona, aren’t you?!” he snarled brandishing a pair of brass knuckles. “And I suppose you must be Pine Tree and Shooting Star’s great uncle, right Mackerel?” the witch said putting on an evil grin that distorted her entire face. “How are you even alive Medusa?! You were supposed to have been killed by Maka’s Genie Hunter!” Tsubaki cried changing into Black Star’s chain scythe. “Why it’s simple you all. I can never truly die, plus we all know about the deal I made with Bill. In exchange for helping to morph Crona into a killing machine, he offered to make me into one of his loyal minions!” Medusa summoned a snake-like creature made out of her own tattoos to her side. “You may call me the Madness of Wrath!” “Oh I’ll show you some madness and wrath!” Stan hollered charging towards the witch and hitting her with a left hook. “Come on, who’s with me?!” Just then, Ford, Soos, Melody, Stein and Black Star joined him in taking on Medusa. “So it has to be that way?” Medusa crossed her arms as a black mass swarmed around her. “Nake snake cobra cobbra. VECTOR ARROW TIMES THREE!” She unleashed a barrage of arrows towards her opponents but unfortunately for her, they all swiftly dodged them. “Have some of this!” Soos socked her in the eye with his hammer and Melody slapped her with her shock gauntlets. Meanwhile, Black Star tied her up with his chain scythe leading Stein to send an electric shock just by gripping the sides of her head. “That children, is called Soul Menace. Where you can literally weaponize your Wavelength to create a concussive shock.” “Brag all you want, but you forgot one thing.” Medusa smirked bringing forth her snake creature. “Light Serpent, now!” The monster grew to a gargantuan size and snatched up the entire party in its jaws, flying high into the sky above the forest while the others cried for help. The only member that wasn’t captured was Crona who trembled in fear as he watched his friends on the verge of being dropped to their doom. He became so furious at his mother that he screamed at the top of his lungs and sprouted wings of Black Blood from his back and chased the Light Serpent down. “Hey is it me or are we being made to look like idiotic weaklings?!” Black Star shouted trying to break out of the serpent’s jaws. “Especially me, the man who’s gonna transcend God someday!” Then Dipper proposed a hypothesis. “I think it’s like what Maka & Soul said, it’s possibly because she’s become way too powerful for us!” he said. “Very good observation Dipper, but can we plan on how to escape without dying here!” Gideon exclaimed. “Hang on everyone, we’re coming!” Suddenly, the group all spotted Crona flying after the Light Serpent, keyword being flying as he now had wings. “Wait, Crona can fly now?!” Melody exclaimed. “I recognize those wings from anywhere.” Kid declared. “He gained this ability after devouring every soul aboard the ghost ship Nidhogg with the Black Blood.” he explained. “Great, that’s cool and all but how is he gonna save us with that?!” Wendy wondered. “Like that.” “BLOODY SLICER!” Crona screamed cutting his wrist, allowing blood to fly out & form into a curved projectile. This attack whizzed toward the Light Serpent and sliced its head off, causing it to vanish and its prisoners falling to the ground. Just then, Crona swooped in and picked up all his friends within the wings and gently set them down on the ground. “I can’t believe it Crona, you saved our lives!” Dipper cried gasping for breath. “Yeah, you totally did it!” Mabel added before everyone started singing Crona’s praises. The Demon Swordsman shed a small tear at how much love they all showed him before Medusa finally cornered them. “So you destroyed my Light Serpent? Very good job on that one.” “You leave her alone you crazy snake lady!” Soos firmly stated while he and Melody rushed to the child’s defense. “No Soos, let me handle this one.” Crona declared making the two move out of his way. Stepping forward to face Medusa, the boy put on a determined scowl on his face as he summoned Ragnarok. “You dare challenge me Crona? And I thought I trained my son to obey me!” the snake witch scoffed. “No, I am not your son anymore and I refuse to be called that! A mother is supposed to love and cherish their children, not abuse them into becoming weapons! From this day forth, my name is no longer Gorgon. Instead, call me Crona Ramirez!” Soos put on a small smile as he and the others watched Crona stand tall against his former mother who just groaned and simply said “Vector Plate.” Just then, large arrows pointing in different directions away from Medusa sent all four teams flying away from one another, with Crona being shunted back to Dipper, Mabel, Waddles, Maka and Soul. “Stan, Ford!” the twins cried out for their great uncles. “KIDS!” “Where’s she sending us to?!” Wendy cried as her group tumbled through the forest. “I do not know, but I sure hope it doesn’t get any worse!” Kid exclaimed before they started screaming again, fearfully awaiting what would happen to them.

Meanwhile deep in the forest rested a small cave in which its entrance masked by the surrounding flora. There was a large body of water winding all the way from that entrance to a pedestal, which rested a sword that was illuminated by the moonlight coming from a large hole in the cave’s ceiling. The sword was the cave’s only inhabitant. Along with a few fairies who’s faces were contorted in pure disgust.

That’s all folks! Hope you’re all ready for the next chapter when the Stans, Wendy, Kid and the Thompsons happen upon a certain Holy Sword. Hilarity ensues. Until then… FOOLS!

[survival-is]

Heart Attack Wife

Thursday night at the Tap Room was about as busy as Denys expected.  He hadn’t wanted to come, but Joe had promised him a free drink, and he felt like he had some obligation to make nice with Joe.  After all, they were going to be working in the same ambulance.  So, he had come along, drank the beer Joe bought, and tried to find something that he liked about the other man.  The only thing that Denys was considering a positive attribute was that Joe was confident. He didn’t get nervous when pretty girls approached them, and he knew how to play certain parts of his job to his advantage.  Two of the girls were very impressed with all the chivalry and pre-planned lines about how rewarding the job was.  The third simply looked up from her phone and asked “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”

David answered first. “I went into a hoarder house once. The lady’s family had come to try and clean it out while she was in the hospital for something.  They had this teenage son who had gone into the basement. The wooden stairs where rotten, so one gave out under him, and he ended up falling, breaking his leg.”  David paused, letting his audience visualize the scene.  “I didn’t see the whole house, because we had to come in through a storm door to get the kid. Let me tell you, that basement was packed.  Apparently, the old lady had gone through this canning phase.  She had drawers and drawers of what must have been fruit, like, fifty years ago.  In that dim light, it was creepy as hell.  And the kid was just down there, whimpering and crying.  We got him out, and he was fine, but that was some horror movie shit.”

Sensing that the other two girls might have been turned off by this story, Joe jumped back in.  “I wasn’t on duty, but I hope this counts. I was at the beach last summer, and I saw this kid.  He came out of the water, and he had his hands over his mouth.  He started walking towards his parents, but then he just kind of, fell over and didn’t get up.  His parents start panicking because he’s turning blue and he’s still covering his mouth. So, I run over.  Try to get him on his back, and I try to get him to show me what he has in his hands, or what’s wrong with his mouth.  He shakes his head a few times, and then he spits up a fish.  I kid you not.”

Looking over, Denys furrowed his brow.  “What? How did that get there?”

“Kid caught it.”  Joe explained, with a small shrug.  “He wanted to show his parents, and I guess he thought his mouth was the best place to put it.”  

While he heard about kids swallowing buttons and change, the fish was weird.  Possibly fake.  Denys had no intent on calling anyone out, but as he sipped his beer, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him.  “What?”

“It’s your turn.”  The third girl instructed.

“I went into the hoarder house too.  That’s my story.”  He gave a half shrug.

“Tell them about Heart Attack Wife.”  David prompted.  

While Denys genuinely liked David, he could have punched him for that.

“Oh right!  I heard about this!”  Joe clapped his hands.  “Man, that got you messed up.”  As if he had been around for more than the past two weeks, and he didn’t know anything more than idle gossip and fun facts.  As if he knew his head from his ass.  “See, Denys grew up with his mom reading cards and palms, so he believes a lot of weird shit.”

“I said my aunt did that, asshole.”  

Joe waved his hand dismissively as if it was all Slavic Folk Nonsense.  The third girl, on the other hand, seemed more interested than before. “I’ll bite.  What happened?”  After a moment of consideration, she offered.  “I’ll buy you another beer.”

“Give me the beer first.” He instructed, and she was off. The other two girls remained in their spots, perhaps unsure if they should leave, or if they could successfully change the topic, but before they could talk about Sports or The Game, their morbid friend was back, pushing the glass towards him.

After a gulp, he considered how to begin his story.  “After my dad died, my mom moved here to stay with my Nana.  They came from the Ukraine, and Nana never learned the language. Like, Joe mentioned, my aunt had her own little fortune telling business, and my mom got her own job not too long after moving in.  So, for the most part, I stayed with Nana, and pretty much just spoke Ukrainian for a while.  Nana had been dead a week or so when we got the call.”

“There was another bus closer, but the dispatcher said the woman who called it in, her first language was Russian, so she thought it would be best to have someone who understood her at the scene.  It’s not the same language, but we went there.  It was me, Dave, and this guy Greg who used to work with us.  The doors unlocked, we go upstairs, and there’s this woman in a bathrobe, doing chest compressions on a guy.”

“Bathrobe is open.” David offered.

“Anyway, Dave and Greg here are miraculously able to not stare at this woman long enough to check for vitals.  I start trying to speak to her in Ukranian, asking what happened, and it just weird.”

“Because you don’t talk to a lot of naked woman?”  Joe snorted.

“Because of the way she phrased things.  Like, it wasn’t ‘we where having sex’, it was ‘he was having sex with me’, but you know. It’s kind of weird that this older guy has this well, attractive young wife, and we can speculate on that, but she was able to show me the medication he was on.  It looked like he’d mixed Viagra with cholesterol medication, and we got him into the ER.  Dead on arrival.”

Denys paused to take a drink.  “Now, you really shouldn’t judge people for how they grieve, but, I remember what she said when I told her he was gone.  She just got this glassy look in her eye and told me ‘But I need him alive.’, she asked me to ask to ‘shock’ him a few times, and then she got mad.  I remember her screaming and crying – which is actually pretty par for the course, but ‘I need him alive’, and ‘who is going to take care of me?’”

“We off shift after that.  I was shooting the shit with an ER nurse who was getting ready to go, when she mentions the woman.  I explain who she is, and what happened and the nurse looks up at me and asks, ‘What do you mean, she has a husband?’.  As I come to find out, they had some kind of sexual encounter.  The nurse knew that she wasn’t the only partner Heart Attack Wife had met in that gym they both went to, and that was fine, but, there was a line drawn at anything outside of marriage.  I thought it was the end of the conversation, but then the nurse says, ‘it’s funny.  After I slept with her, I felt real weak, and I knew it wasn’t just upping my reps.’” I say ‘it’s not like she killed someone by having sex with them.  No one else is dead.’  But I was wrong.”

“The nurse told me that she knew that Heart Attack Wife was really friendly with a personal trainer. The personal trainer dropped dead a month earlier.  He’s twenty-nine years old, real athletic, no one knows what happened.  His roommate came back one morning, and there he is, dead in bed.  The roommate said he was kicked out because his bud was expecting company, but, it can’t be confirmed.  No one is really looking into it, and before I sound crazy, I was pretty messed up, and instead of dealing with that I decided to go see if maybe this woman was there.”

He didn’t give anyone any time to comment.  “It’s not like I went around the clubs asking about her, but I showed her picture to the roommate.  He recognized her, but he didn’t know if she’d been there that night.   I started looking for other deaths.  I found three, maybe four young men who shouldn’t have just dropped dead, but I couldn’t bring myself to go ask about it again. Besides, on the day before the funeral, I met her again.”

“She was in a black dress, walking out of a liquor store.  She looked so blank and tired, I pulled over and offered her a ride.  It took her a minute to remember me, but she smiled and quietly got in.  I asked her a few questions about how she was doing, and she just opened this bottle and started drinking from it.  ‘That’s how I’m doing.’  She told me. I wasn’t sure if that was a joke, but she laughed.   When I got to her house, she waited by the door.  ‘Why don’t you come in?’  She asked, and I thought there wasn’t going to be any better way to stop fixating on this than going in and talking to her.”

“She poured me a shot of straight vodka in a regular glass and kept drinking from the bottle.  It wasn’t flavored or anything.  She took mine when I took too long.  I told her I thought she must drink a lot to be able to drink that straight.  She just shrugged and told me ‘I’m a widow.  I should be allowed to do whatever I want.’  After a moment, she told me that she felt like she had to drink a lot to be able to deal with her husband, but she wasn’t slowing down now that he was dead. That worried her.  I tried to talk to her about rehabilitation centers nearby, but she interrupted me.  ‘Why did you give me a ride home?’  I explained that I felt bad for her, but she interrupted again.  ‘Did you want to have sex with me?’”

“And that’s how we got down to it.  I laughed, and I told her that I found some other people, I think she had sex with them before they died.  She just tilted her head and looked at me.  I thought I was crazy for a moment, and she walked away from me, slowly walking upstairs.  I was left there, to think about how shitty it was to tell that woman that I thought she killed her husband and a few other men, with what?  How?”

“’Do you want to know the secret?’  She called to me, ‘Come upstairs.’  And I should have got out then and there.  I went upstairs after her, and then I got the fuck out of that house.”

“Well, holy shit dude. Way to bury the lead there.”  Joe snorted.  “What did she show you?”

Denys shrugged. “Well, after that, I went and I talked to some people.  I wasn’t really dealing with my grief and stress, so, whatever happened in that room – it’s not real.  And, so ends the story.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and selected a few small bills. He tried to ignore the questions, and found his footing.  “See you guys later.  I gotta get up early tomorrow.”

 He was outside fumbling, with his keys, when the third girl found him again.  “No offense.  But your friend is a bit of a dick.”  She called, following him.

“Not my friend.”  He offered back.

“You seem really … on edge. You want a smoke?”

He stopped smoking a few months ago, after That Thing, but fuck.  He told that story, and dealt with Joe.  He could have one.  “Yeah.” He agreed.

Leaning against the wall, she watched the girl – more of a woman in this slant of light, expertly light her Marlboro with a match before extending her hand and offering the pack and book to him.  He fumbled, making her laugh.  “Want me to –“  With a swift motion, he was light up.  “Thought you might give me a lecture about how bad these are.”

“Sounds like you already know.”  

She let them stand in silence again, before looking over at him.  “You still see her around?”

He wanted to ask who, but he knew.  This had all been a ruse to keep him talking.  “I drove by the house a few weeks after.  Had a For Sale sign out front.  I guess she left.  Hopefully went back home.”

“I doubt it.”  The woman glanced over, and there was something meaningful.  “There was something wrong with her?  Physically?”  She didn’t give him a moment to confirm.  “She’s not going back home.  Not to her real home anyway.”

“What makes you say that?”

She smiled at him, and it was terribly serene and knowing.  “I know things.”  She dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her heel.  It had barely been touched.  “She can’t survive there.  But up here? There’s enough horny losers to keep a girl well fed for a long time.”  Turning her head, she watched the first of her friends leave the bar, followed by Joe and then the other.  “Like him. How dumb does he think we are?  I mean, that fish story?”  Slowly, she looked back at Denys.  There was something angelic about how the streetlight illuminated her short, curly hair, and he had no doubt that if someone wanted to paint a black angel, she would be the type of woman to use as a reference. Beautiful, but terribly knowing.  They were all beautiful – this woman who didn’t smoke but was so good at lighting cigarettes, her friends, and the one he had met on the bathroom floor; next to the dying body of a man she had called her husband.

She broke him out of his reverie.  “You don’t like him, do you?  So, you won’t stop us?”  He nodded dumbly.  “Between the three of us, he’s not a real meal.  So, tomorrow, when we’re done with him, I’m going to call you.”

Interrupting them, one of the two girls women Things with Joe called out.  “Hey, we’re going to leave without you!”

“I see why she showed you. You have such a sadness.”  The black angel smiled again, before turning and following her sisters to the open car.

He watched them go, not raising an acknowledging hand to Joe, or giving him a final nod. When he was done his cigarette, he crushed it out and lit another.   He considered dropping his phone, but got in his car instead, pulled out, and headed to the interstate.  There were her words in his ear, such a sadness, such a sadness.  Maybe so, but that was never how he intended on dying.

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

I’ve Got You

Prompt request: Can I request one? Hydra targets Tony's teen daughter. The agent waits for her after school and brings her to an abandoned house somewhere across town. But he's also wanted by the FBI as a child predator. She realizes the shit storm she's in when he has her against a wall and telling her the awful things he wants to do. He was so caught up in what he was doing he didn't notice Bucky and iron man came in until a metal hand wrapped around his neck. She was able to activate her emergency tracker.

Characters: Tony Stark, Skylar Stark, Bucky Barnes, OFCs

Warnings: kidnapping, child predator, mentions of attempted rape

A/N: Thanks for the prompt request, and thanks for your patience!

One Shot Masterlist

Skylar threw back her head and groaned as she and her best friend left their prison behind.

“That test was so brutal!” she whined. “Why does calculus have to suck so much?”

Shari shoulders shook as she giggled, her natural hair bouncing off her shoulders. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at math?” she teased. “Being a Stark and all?”

Skylar glared at her friend and stuck out her tongue. “I got the literary genius, thankyouverymuch.”

Shari just shook her head. “Yeah, speaking of, feel like helping me with that Dante paper after my ballet practice?”

“My place or yours?” Skylar replied immediately.

“Is the walking L’Oreal commercial going to be there?”

Skylar grinned. “You mean Thor? I think he’s back on Asgard.”

Shari sighed dramatically. “I guess we can meet at my place since I won’t have any eye candy to stare at.”

“Wouldn’t the eye candy be distracting?” Skylar giggled.

“It would motivate my ass to finish the paper so I could stare at his ass,” Shari deadpanned.

The girls erupted in a fit of giggles. Skylar jokingly pushed Shari’s shoulder. “Stop sexualizing my pseudo uncle!”

Shari wiped the tears from her eyes and headed off in the other direction. “Fine! I’ll be completely serious when I come over tonight!”

“Uh huh,” Skylar shot back. She waved as Shari disappeared down the sidewalk. “Have fun killing your toes!”

Shari waved a hand in acknowledgement and hustled down the metro stairs. Skylar just shook her head again and kept walking back home.

But something felt off.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter came with a whole different set of rules and regulations. Safety was one of the biggest things Tony instilled in Skylar. She had her own private security detail until she entered middle school, and Tony refused to get rid of the stealth drone until she passed a rigorous self-defense course with Natasha Romanoff herself.

As Skylar continued to walk down the street, she carefully assessed her surroundings. She darted her eyes to the large window of the shop to her left and noticed a man behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she made a left at the street corner. Another glass window passed on her left, and she spotted the same man again.

She was being followed.

Swallowing thickly, Skylar considered her options. She had been trained not to panic, but she still felt her throat close up and her ears ring. She considered pulling out her phone, but that could tip the stranger that she was onto him.

Before she could take any action, a rough hand gripped her arm and she felt the prick of a needle against her skin. Skylar opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out as the world went fuzzy around her.

“You don’t look so good,” a man’s voice said. Skylar tried to pull away, but her feet refused to work.

“You should probably sit down.”

Skylar could make out the shape of a car as the man pushed her to the right. Using what little strength she had left, she managed to push the buttons on her watch before the world went dark around her.

Tony Stark cracked his neck as he examined the metalwork in front of him. He poked and prodded it with a screwdriver until he felt an unexpected resistance.

“Yup,” Tony said triumphantly. “You got something lodged in there.”

Bucky sighed in relief. “Thank god. I was worried it was all in my head.” He opened and closed his fist. “I knew something didn’t feel right.”

Tony smirked as he gently pushed apart the plates near Bucky’s elbow. “You’ll be good as new in just a…”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” Tony asked without looking up.

“Skylar’s emergency tracker went off.”

Tony felt the blood rush from his face. “Was it an accidental trigger?”

“I’m pulling up the video footage now.”

Bucky’s arm forgotten, Tony rushed over to his wall of computers. He watched helplessly as a hulking man shoved his daughter into the back of a car.

“Facial recognition says he is a HYDRA operative named Bertoli Vaspin,” FRIDAY continued. “However, his cell has been disbanded since 2016. We captured most of his partners on a mission last year, but he’s been working alone ever since.”

Tony’s body shook with anger as he followed the car on his screens. Jaw clenched tight, he turned on his heels and stalked over to his suit.

“I want a location NOW!” he barked, tapping on the lockscreen of the suit’s case.

Tony flinched as a hand gently touched his shoulder. He whirled around and glared at Bucky. “Don’t you dare tell me-”

Bucky shook his head. “The only thing I’m going to tell you is that I’m coming with.”

Tony regarded Bucky with a brief nod.

“Let’s find my daughter.”

Skylar groaned but felt her voice get stuck on fabric. She struggled against the zip ties around her wrists as she forced her heavy eyes open.

“You can struggle all you want,” a familiar voice chuckled.

Skylar’s blood turned to ice as she tried to maintain her composure. Her eyes focused on her surroundings, and it became difficult to hold her fear inside.

The room was dark and damp with high ceilings. She could hear the faint dripping of water from somewhere behind her, and the freezing floor caused an involuntary shiver as it made contact with her skin. Trembling slightly, she glared at the man from the street.

He was medium height with a mess of brown hair and a crooked nose. His sinister smile revealed a flash of perfect white teeth, and his eyes glinted with madness. He slowly stalked towards Skylar, grinning even wider as she scooted back away from him. A wall stopped her from going any further, and he knelt down in front of terrified teen.

Bertoli reached his hands out and gripped Skylar’s t-shirt collar in a tight fist. He swiftly lifted her off the floor and slammed her against the wall. A dam broke inside her as she shook and sobbed at the man’s foreign touch. She kicked and screamed against her gag, but he was far too powerful and she was far too incapacitated.

Bertoli chuckled. “We are going to have so much fun,” he cooed, cupping her cheek in his hand. He trailed his fingers down the front of her shirt, and Skylar shut her eyes instinctively. If she couldn’t see him, it wasn’t real. Whatever happened next wouldn’t be real.

Suddenly, Bertoli made an inhuman choking noise before his grip loosened. Skylar opened her eyes at the loss of contact and saw a shiny, metal arm wrapped around the bastard’s neck. Bucky Barnes glared at the HYDRA operative with a steely determination Skylar had never seen before.

Bertoli’s face turned purple as the super solider tightened his grip.

“Fuck you,” Bucky growled before unceremoniously chucking Bertoli across the room. His body landed with a loud thud against a cement pillar, and he crumpled to the ground. Bucky ran to assess the damage as Tony flew down to take his place.

With a tap of his chest, the Iron Man suit clanked against the floor, leaving the grief-stricken father free to tend to his daughter. He pulled the gag out of her mouth, and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“I’ve got you,” Tony whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re safe, love.”

“D-d-d-d-dad,” Skylar cried. “I tr-tr-tried to f-f-f-f-fight, I-”

Tony clenched his eyes shut as he held on even tighter. “You were so brave. So brave. You did everything right.”

Skylar sniffled and nodded as her body slowly began to stop shaking. Tony pulled against her zip ties, but the plastic was too strong. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Bucky holding out one of his many knives.

“Of course you’d have a knife,” Tony muttered, cutting the offending material off Skylar’s wrists. She jumped into his arms and clung to him again.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he replied. He looked at Bucky who made an X and pointed behind him. Bertoli was dead. Tony nodded in acknowledgement and began walking away with his daughter in his arms.

“Someone can deal with the mess later,” he announced to no one in particular.

“Right now we’re going home.”

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @iamwarrenspeace @wificrazymisfit @snapplejuice @sammnipple @theassetseyeliner @yknott81 @serenastark @4theluvofall @capttainamericaa

[anxiousauthor89]

Peanut

48 hours had passed since Trinity heard the news about Shawn. She was sick. Two different counselors had come to see her. One for parenting. Because the nurses reported her not wanting to see the baby. One for drugs. Because they were found in her system. She was annoyed as hell and she told them her mom went to see about Shawn and she didn't wanna talk until she knew he was okay. Her mom had her on hold but the counselors were so demanding of her attention she hung up. After leaving Judith waiting for 15 minutes, a chaplin came and said he was no longer with them. Knowing what that phrase normally meant, Judith ran out of the hospital dialing Trinity on her cell, to deliver the bad news. The parenting counselor was in the room when her mother called, so Trinity didn't have to say a word. The entire maternity ward heard her cries as she begged God to bring him back. "Baby, tell me where you are mama will come get you. Im right here baby just say where you are and Im coming!" Judith pleaded as she felt her daughters heart breaking. "We wanna get to you honey where are you?" her dad asked. "Hush Elijah im trying to get it out of her we cant both ask the questions!" her mom snapped as they started the car. "Mama...mama...why? Why did I do this mama?" she sobbed barely breathing between words. "I was just mad but I love him! If hes dead I wanna die too! I did this mama!" She screamed drowning in her pain. "Give me the phone I can talk for you I know it hurts but.." the counselor chimed in which snapped Trinity back to reality. "Who the fuck are you hoe?" Realizing this was a different counselor she got defensive. "How many of you bitches they gonna send in here huh? I don't fuckin want it! My mind will never change!" she screamed as tears ran down her face and hit her chest. "TRINITY JOY STEEPLES! WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO LIKE THAT? GRIEF IS NO REASON TO LASH OUT LIKE THAT! AND WHAT DONT YOU WANT? WHERE ARE YOU LITTLE GIRL?!" her mother was now growing impatient. Trinity was so wrapped up in being sad about Shawn she forgot her parents still had no idea about the baby. Immediately having to calm her nerves, she said "that's my roommate mama she just all in my business you know I hate that."  she glared at the women letting her eyes tell them if they say another word with her mama on the line, they will blow her cover and she will slap spit from them. Taking heed to the hint they stood in silence. Breathing deep she said "give me ten minutes mama. I will call you back." Hanging up before her mom could say anything back she sat on the bed. Trembling. "Why are yall here?" she asked slowly letting out the emotion she just had to put on hold while ending the call. "Im Grace. Grief counselor. As soon as my partner picked up on the fact that you lost someone she texted me and I was already here for another woman, so I came for you, Ms. Steeples. Are you okay? Tell me how you feel." the hazel eyed ginger haired lady looked like she wanted to cry with her. "I feel like I wanna die." she whispered. Grace was no rookie in this field. She knew words like that would land you in a mental hospital. "Excuse me ladies, I want to talk to her alone." she looked at Trinity placing her finger over her mouth, turning around smiling at the unwanted help as they left the room. "Thank you ladies. Brunch on me later!" she said as she closed the door behind them. Wasting time was not on the agenda for Grace. Not when she saw a life she could save. She refused to let another black woman be another statistic.  "Listen to me Ms. Steeples. she knelt down in front of Trinity, pushing her curly hair away from her teary eyes. "Do not talk like that. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. God loves you. And I know you know him I see him in you. You not going down like this. No matter what it looks like you shall live and not die. Now is not your time." For the first time in days Trinity felt safe. She felt like someone cared. Ashamed of her self, and her life choices, she confessed to the caring woman, "I don't want my baby. And when I plan to go home, Im not taking it with me. I was just going to leave." sobbing in embarrassment. "The daddy is dead and im not worth a shit. I cant take it home. I thought it was going to die! And it lived and now im a bad person because I killed the daddy and I still got a.." The conversation was cut short by her phone ringing. Her eyes grew big. "Sssshiiit that's my mama! She don't know about the baby..I...I didn't say nothing yet cuz Im scared and then Shawn got shot and I forgot and.." her nervous rambling ended when Grace grabbed her hand. "Its okay. Im here for you. We cant run from this baby. We can tell mama together. She loves you. I heard it in her voice. We not giving the devil anymore room in this situation. We gon tell the truth today." The look in Grace's eyes told Trinity she had met her match. It was time to come clean. The phone began to ring again. Trying to answer but an able to Trinity sat there shaking. Not wanting to keep ignoring her mom she slowly gave Grace the phone. With a single head nod, Trinity gave permission for the phone to be answered. Still holding hands, Grace answered the call. "Hi, Mrs. Steeples? Im Grace, a new friend of your daughter, how are you?" she calmly spoke. "Grace I don't know you but if you the friend that was all in my baby business you can back it on up unless you gonna tell me where she is!" the mother in her stood tall. "My baby needs me and I need to get.." "Wait...wait..Mrs. Steeples...with all due respect your daughter is my business. Im a grief counselor here at the hospital and she.." "What the devil is she doing at a hospital? She aint say she was hurt! her daddy got on the line. Rolling her eyes Grace realized they were completely in the dark. "Put me on speaker. You both need to hear this." Grace replied. "Oh yea?" her daddy said. "Well im listening and it better be good she got me so tight over here I got gas, just workin all my nerves gott doggit." Trinity let out a quiet chuckle as she gave another head nod, closing her eyes, giving grace permission to spill her beans. Taking a deep breath Grace squeezed Trinity's hand. "Your baby had a baby. Shes been here for about 4 days. The baby was delivered the first day she arrived. Shes not hurt. And the baby is doing ok too. Shes only 3 pounds, but shes strong...her ankle is broken due to a minor accident during delivery..." she gave Trinity the side eye hinting that it would remain their little secret "but shes so pretty and Trinity needs you. Shes afraid and she needs you all. More than ever before." The line was dead quiet. Growing fearful Trinity spoke. "Mama....daddy....I know yall mad but say something please...I didn't wanna disappoint nobody im sorry just talk to me I cant handle the silent treatment and.." "BE QUIET CHILD!" her mother yelled. Feeling like she was about to be disowned she put her face in her hands while Grace rubbed her back. "My Lord Jesus....ok." her mom took a deep breath. "We just trying to take all of this in baby I didn't mean to holler. Ya daddy over here letting out all his gas... in between him and this news I cant think!"  Understanding that it was indeed a lot to take in Trinity sat quiet. "So Im a paw paw...that's what you telling me Ms Grace?" Her daddy asked with a shaking voice. "Daddy don't cry I am so so sorry." Trinity said feeling like the worst child any parent cold ask for. "Oh Elijah stop dat crying. Big ol soft man" Judith laughed. "He happy baby. We are happy." she heard a smile in her mothers voice. "Ms. Grace where is my grand baby? You said she...I have a grand daughter?" Full of victory in spirit Grace jumped up from the bed "yes ma'am! Its a girl. I can talk to he head nurse and extend visitation hours so you can spend all the time you want! Are you coming?" she was so happy. "Told you its okay babygirl." she whispered to Trinity teasingly sticking her tongue out. Trinity smiled back wiping tears of relief. "Yes we are on the way right now! Oh my word Elijah!!" her mom laughed hard with happiness. "Trin had a baby! Oh thank you Lord you held my baby in your arms I know you did Thank ya Lord!" Trinity always cried when her mom prayed simply because she knew it reached Heaven. "Yes ma'am Ms Steeples. Hes good like that. Never failing. Im gonna let yall talk to Trinity while I extend the visitation hours for you." Grace was walking out when Judith called out "But wait!" she laughed. "You didn't tell me her name. Whats my grandbaby name?" " Yeah what we gon call her? Is it out the bible?" her dad yelled out? Not realizing she didn't even name the baby, Trinity was lost for words. She looked at Grace and shrugged her shoulders with both hands up while mouthing the words "I don't have a name". Walking back to the phone Grace replied in honesty "Well....she doesn't have a name yet. But shes the tiniest thing in the nursery. So for now... we call her Peanut

[foursprouthappiness-blog]

He Just Wanted What Was Best For Me

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/he-just-wanted-what-was-best-for-me/

He Just Wanted What Was Best For Me

God & Man

When we met, he told me how much he adored me for being so ambitious, so independent.

“You’re not like other girls. You’re so smart and strong. You’ve accomplished so much. I can actually have a conversation with you!”

I was young and I didn’t know that men who said things like this, were not men you should have around. I brushed it off because he was right. I was smart and strong, and his opinions about me didn’t matter to me. He was a witty law undergrad, and he made me laugh. I enjoyed his company. Pretty soon we were dating.

I continued being the girl he claimed to adore, only a more extreme version. I steamed ahead with my own successes, while emotionally supporting him as he quit his job to pursue his dreams. We talked about building a future together. I helped him start his dream business, a box gym, and having been a strategist at one of the biggest global gym chains, I was able to talk him through the process, step by step. Having spent much of my career coming up with names for businesses, I did the same for him. I built his brand, developed his strategy. I held him while he sobbed at night over the erratic nature of entrepreneur-life, comforted him through the fickle nature of customer retention, pulled out charts and graphs to show him that this was a predictable part of the startup phase.

“Nobody turns profits immediately,” I reassured him. “It’s going to be okay.”

I took control of the parts of the business he couldn’t, often without him knowing, because I didn’t want him to stress out further. Because I had experience that he didn’t. Because he was childlike and fragile, despite his muscle and brawn, and I wanted to protect him.

Because I wanted what was best for him.

But I wasn’t super woman. I was working a full-time job, writing books at night, maintaining my own part-time business, pursuing my own dreams. The macro- and micro-managing took its toll on me. At some point, I suggested he take over the parts of his business I was handling, or make me a partner in it. Like a strong, accomplished woman would do.

He got angry.

“I didn’t ask you to help with any of it,” he snapped.

This was the first time I felt reality tilt. I distinctly remembered him asking me to come up with a name for his gym, to find a designer to design his logo, to set up his website. Because he had never had a proper job or bank account, we ran all his digital ads through my credit card. My address was listed as the primary address on all his email servers, his Google alerts, his business and search ratings. To this day, six years post our break up, they still are. Why?

“Can you help me with this? I have no idea how to do it.”

We’d been in his car when he said it. It was a sweltering summer’s day, and we were turning into Strand Street near the Cathedral in Cape Town. I was busy putting the exchange servers for his email into his phone.

“Is it working now?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s working.”

“Thank you so much,” he replied. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, my lioness.”

That’s what he used to call me. Lioness.

On another occasion, he would interrupt me while I was at work with a phone call.

“How do I get a sign made in the shape of our logo?”

It would take me an hour to tell him which printers to go to. To ask for something called a ‘die-cut’. To choose a light wood, so that it could be mounted. I reminded him of his Pantone, so that his colors would all match up.

“Thank you, my lioness. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I never asked for your help.”

After that day, when I’d asked him for some help, some acknowledgment, he started distancing himself from me. I would hear from his friends that he’d say, “She’s just not much of a homemaker. She’s a little bit… crazy.”

He was right. I was too busy running half his business, as well as my own. Winning awards, writing a book that would go on to get four and five star reviews. Managing his emotions.

It left little time to care too much about cushions and vases. And honestly? It was making me a bit mad. I would collapse on weekends, exhausted.

“Why do you sleep so much?” he’d ask. “Are you depressed?”

Sometimes I wondered if we occupied the same reality.

He came from a wealthy family. His father had bought him his first home, and hired an interior designer to decorate it. He’d never worked three jobs. He’d never really had a proper job, to be fair. I was sympathetic. He just didn’t understand, I told myself.

I cried. A lot. Mostly on my own, but sometimes I’d cry in front of him.

“Why are you so emotional?” he started saying.

“You really shouldn’t drink that much Coke Light.”

“You look ridiculous in those glasses.”

“Are you really wearing those pants?”

He’d look at my body in a bikini, push his lips to one side.

“Hmm. I think this is the smallest you’ll get.”

I was tiny. Shrinking. Inside and out.

So small, I’d stopped questioning what was going on.

So small, I’d started believing him.

He in turn, got bigger every day, pushing heavier weights, downing Creatine protein shakes, obsessively staring at himself in mirrors.

“Maybe if I stop eating avo I can cut some calories…?” I mumbled.

But he’d tuned out, absorbed in his phone, editing pictures of himself. Choosing a filter for Instagram that would make his abs look the most cut.

“You should really stop posting pictures of yourself on the internet,” he said to me at some point. “You’re starting to look a bit vain.”

One night, on a weekend trip to attend the wedding of close friends, we were eating dinner, and he finished his food before me. Suddenly he stormed out of the room, slamming plates, doors.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t listen to you chewing anymore.”

I didn’t finish my dinner. I got into bed and stared back of his head. I hated myself for chewing so loudly that I’d pushed away the man I loved.

I resolved to chew softer. To be quieter.

Softer. Smaller.

I started speaking less and running excessively.

Ten kilometers became twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

Twice a week became three, four, five.

“Running doesn’t make you thin,” he said. “Only strength training makes you thin.”

Thin.

I’d been a runner long before I met him. Exercise had been a source of joy for me, a way for me to reconnect with my body.

“But I run because I love it.”

He’d snorted.

“Might as well not bother.”

At home, I would stare at myself in the mirror.

I’d spent much of my life dealing with body issues and eating disorders, something running had soothed and solved. Had it all been a waste of time? At lunches with his family, I’d stare at his sister’s shoulder blades, poking out of her skin like coat hangers; a tiny, delicate pterodactyl in Country Road dresses.

“Men actually find strong women sexy,” he’d say, directly contradicting himself.

His sister would peck at her food, pushing it around her plate.

“Are you really going to have another piece of cake?” he’d say to me.

I began dissociating, detaching from the endless emotional push and pull.

“I just want to help you. I just want what’s best for you,” he’d say.

I believed him. I needed help. Faced with the apparent disaster that was me, I’d cry.

I’d cry and cry and cry.

“I think you should see a psychologist,” he said. “It’s clear that you have problems. You have pain you need to deal with.”

At this point, I believed him. The pain was real.

I went to a psychologist, who told me that he was toxic, his behavior controlling. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear, though. I was the problem, I explained. So I stopped going to the psychologist. But my boyfriend did not like this.

“You really need to sort yourself out,” he said. “It’s those friends of yours, they’re a bad influence.”

I’d long lost the will to argue. I began seeing my best friend in secret.

“I’m glad you’re not hanging out with her anymore. Let’s face it, she’s a slut. You know I’m only saying this because I love you, right? Because I’m concerned for you.”

“I know,” I said, through tears. “I know.”

My gran died a month before her 99th birthday.

He didn’t come with me to the funeral. He went to gym, instead.

“I’m going for a new PB today,” he’d texted me that morning. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

When I called him on my way home, I asked if he could help me carry a chair I’d retrieved from her room in the retirement village, a keepsake by which to remember her.

He was waiting outside my apartment when I returned.

“I smashed the workout!” he said. “Record time. How was the funeral?”

I can’t remember what I said. What do you say?

Great. Awesome. There was cake. Cool party. My gran’s dead.

When we got inside, I opened the balcony door so my cat could go outside. He stepped out and found an ashtray. I’d smoked a joint a few nights earlier, with my now secret bestie, trying to ease my grief. Trying to sleep better. Trying to get by. What happened next is a blur.

He erupted into a rage. He smashed the ashtray, pushed open the door, stormed out of the house.

He yelled something, I can’t remember what. I remember feeling fear; physical, emotional. There was swearing. I tugged at his arms, he shrugged me off. I stood in front of his car as he tried to drive away. He revved his engine, me sprawled across the bonnet.

“Just talk to me,” I pleaded.

We were that couple. Neighbours peered out of their windows. After he drove away, he refused to take my calls for two weeks. When he finally did, he was the one sitting crying in my lounge.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been chosen, by God. Like, this gym is my calling. I need to focus on it.”

And just like that, I realized I wasn’t the crazy person.

He still runs his gym. The other day I saw he put up a post, thanking everyone who’d helped him get to where he is. My name isn’t listed there. Like so many women who’ve built the careers of men, I’d been erased.

It’s okay. I doubt he did it maliciously.

He probably just wanted what was best for me.