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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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shut in [8]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.” You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”

“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.

“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”

You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.

It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.

But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.

You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.

Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?

Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.

You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.

He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.

“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.

If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.

You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.

Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.

“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.

It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.

You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.

You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.

You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.

Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.

The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.

The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.

Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.

The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.

You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.

It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.

You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.

He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.

“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.

Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.

“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.

You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.

You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.

About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.

You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.

There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.

“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”

You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.

Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.

To the world he just… disappeared.

It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.

It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.

He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.

“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.

“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.

“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.

“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”

You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.

“What about you?”

“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.

“You regret all of ‘em too?”

“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”

“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.

“Nah. I let him go.”

It took a while to register what he said.

“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.

“First mission I ever did.”

His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.

But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.

He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.

The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.

“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.

“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.

“Stop talking.”

“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”

Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”

“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Then it should be easy.”

“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.

“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”

Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.

Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”

“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.

“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.

“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.

“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”

“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-

“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He simply closed his eyes and sat back.

You waited for Sam to continue.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”

“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.

“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”

To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.

“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”

“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”

“So then why did you still continue?”

“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”

He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.

“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”

That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.

“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.

“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”

“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”

“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”

This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.

This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.

A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.

“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”

The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.

The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.

The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.

She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.

“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.

“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”

“I’m sorry.” You truly were.

Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced

You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.

You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.

A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.

You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.

The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.

“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.

“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.

Show no mercy.

You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.

Show no mercy.

“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”

“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.

You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“And Ransone doesn’t know.”

“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”

“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.

“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”

“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”

“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”

Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.

“This job sucks,” he let out.

You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.

“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”

You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”

“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”

“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.

“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”

If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?

“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.

“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”

You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.

He was a good man. He deserved better.

“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”

You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.

“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.

You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.

He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.

You would. You’d figure it out.

“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.

You looked at him in question.

“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”

“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”

“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.

He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”

An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.

“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”

“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.

“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.

“Huh?”

“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.

“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”

“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.

“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.

He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.

But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came.

He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.

You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.

You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.

It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely.

A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.

“Fuck.”

Next part

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Steph!

Any chance you've got any fics where John and Sherlock come out publicly (an AU or just canon)? For some reason I just adORe the tension

Anyway, thanks for everything you do on your blog, it's hugely appreciated!

Hey Lovely!!

Ahhhh Hmm I thought I had a list for this but apparently not, oof.

Here’s what I can offer you with my tags in my bookmarks and MFL’s! Feel free to add some, y’all if you have any I missed!

COMING OUT

See also:

Homophobia / Sexuality / Pride || [John’s Sexuality]

John’s Friends Find Out About Sherlock

John’s Internalized Homophobia

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

MARKED FOR LATER

About Being Gay by A_Candle_For_Sherlock (G, 1,088 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Romantic Fluff, Older Rosie) – Rosie looks up from Sherlock’s picture book about poisonous plants, gives Sherlock a look and asks, 'Are you gay, Sherlock?' and Sherlock, without missing a beat, just says 'Yes,' and continues drinking his tea, and Rosie says 'Ah,' and goes back to her plant book, and John nearly doubles over in the corner.

A Regular not at all Terrifying-for-unknown-reasons Conversation by Dodoa (T, 5,506 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Unilock, Best Friends, Coming Out, Self-Discovery, Dialogue Heavy, Self Acceptance) – Sherlock is trying to work something out and goes to John for help. John might not have all the answers, but he's determined to help.

Still alive by LoLecter (M, 8,375 w., 1 Ch. || Teenlock AU || Trans!Sherlock, Suicide Attempt, Overdose, Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, Bisexual Character, Fluff, Transphobia, Asshole Parents, Big Brother Mycroft) – Sherlock has known he was transgender for a while now and he decides to come out to his parents, but they react badly and Sherlock end up trying to kill himself only to be saved by his best friend John who doesn't know anything about Sherlock being trans.

Isolated by CarmillaCarmine (G, 8,549, 6/7 Ch. || WiP || Quarantine From Virus, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Bi-Panic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Coming Out, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Kissing) – Due to an ongoing pandemic, John and Sherlock find themselves isolated at 221B.

Who I Really Am by agirlsname (T, 13,067 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE [1] or [2] || Post S4, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Grief/Mourning, POV John, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending) – You don't tend to give up your heterosexual privilege without a fight.

Coming Out by LiviKate (M, 13,439 w., 5 Ch. || Teenlock, Homophobia, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Oral Sex, Drunk John, Bisexual John, Teen Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Reconciliation, Arguing) – John has had feelings for his best friend for a very long time. Feelings he knows will never be returned. When John goes out to drown his sorrows in booze and girls, he finds himself falling into bed with a man for the first time instead. John doesn't expect Sherlock to think much of it, as he had never cared either way about people's sexualities. But when Sherlock finds out, things go downhill quickly, leaving John confused and alone. Can the two friends come back together after such an explosive coming out? If they do, will it be like before? Or might it be so very, very different?

Straight Boy Pain by Glenmore (NR, 18,257 w., 10 Ch. || Coming Out, Pain, Romance, Birds, Sexuality) – Sherlock is in pain. Billy Kinkaid, the Camden garroter and best man Sherlock knows, diagnoses it. Ademar Silver, a male prostitute in south London, attempts to treat it. Lestrade, kindly Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard, doesn’t notice it. Eventually, John Watson, healer and registered medical doctor, cures it. And a beautician called Penny paints Sherlock’s toenails.

The Lying Doctor by pagimag (E, 44,285 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Past Alcohol/Drug Abuse, Anger Issues, Depressed John, Watson Siblings, Coming Out, Bi John, First Time, Dom/Sub Undertones, Parentlock, Internalized Homophobia, Past Child Abuse, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John's relationship is fragile after the events at Culverton Smith’s hospital. John struggles with guilt and anger issues. During a case he decides to visit his aunt, which leads to an unexpected development. He’s forced to reevaluate ingrained behaviours, confront long lasting issues and question how he leads his life.

In Bed by Ellipsical (E, 46,922 w., 12 Ch. || Autofellatio, Vibrators, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Liminal Identities, Christmas, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Fingering, Jealous John, Therapy, Flirting, Texting, Fluff, Sherlock’s Violin, Anal, Est. Rel., Semi-Public Sex, Harry Watson, Communication, Coming in Pants, Spitroasting, Double Penetration, Dirty Talk, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, Happy Ending, PTSD John, Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – It’s almost Christmas, John thinks, and this, this is bullshit. The epilogue to Guilty Secrets. Part 2 of Guilty Secrets

NO! by Tildathings (M, 50,043 w., 36 Ch. || Homophobia, Bed Sharing, Military Uniforms, Past Abuse, Jealous John, Stalking, Violence, First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Coming Out, Sherlock’s Past, Shower, Cuddling, Grief and Sorrow, Hugs, Character Death) – Sherlock has been in a coma in over 8 months after he overdosed on the plane at TAB, during which time Mary and Rosie were killed by Vivian Norbury. This story starts 3 weeks after Sherlock has woken up. John is asking to move back to Baker Street.

What have you done? by Tildathings (M, 63,940+ w., 17/? Ch. || WiP || Interenalized Homophobia, John’s Family, Coming Out, Sherock/OMC, Hugging, Suicide, John Deduce’s, Nightmares, Love Confession, First Date, Bed Sharing, Psychiatry) – John have been invited by Sherlock on a pub night?! Sherlock said to him at Monday that Greg and Mike wanted him to come with them on a pub night. Sherlock is afraid that he would do something wrong socially left alone, so could John come with him? When John arrives at the pub Two Broken Hearts he sees Sherlock talking to a man.

A Change of Heart by SosoHolmesWatson (E, 65,436 w., 20 Ch. || Post-S4 / Canon Compliant, Jealous Sherlock, Past Abuse, Parentlock, Dev. Rel., Idiots in Love, Suicidal Sherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Mollstrade, Coming Out, Love Confessions, Big Brother Mycroft, John’s Childhood, POV Alternating, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Hand Jobs) – After all they have been through, after all the heartbreak and desolation, John and Sherlock want to make their way back to each other, still convinced that friendship is all that can exist between them. Will there be a change of heart? Part 1 of the The Pains of Growing series

Worst Kept Secrets by Sherlock1110 and sherlockian4evr (M, 61,515+w., 8/? Ch. || WiP || Engagement, Coming Out, Angst and Feels, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Fluff, Scars, Weddings, Honeymoon, Playing Pirates, Parasailing, Archaeology, Paintball, Swimming, Golf) – For the prompt: What if the thing Mycroft did to upset Mummy... was to come out? What if, as a teenager, Mycroft decided to tell his family that he is gay, and his parents disowned him for it? It's okay now, he runs the British Government, he IS the British Government, but there's still that tiny part of him that wants his parent's acceptance, especially now he's found the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Part 4 of the Sherlock and Mycroft Fluff series

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,235 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite.

Full Court Press by MissDavis (E, 126,123 w. || College Basketball AU || Unilock, Masturbation, Homophobia, First Kiss / Time, Oral/Anal, Coming Out, Switchlock, Blowjobs) – Sherlock Holmes has accepted a scholarship to play basketball at the College of St. Bartholomew's. He expects to be their star player and turn the team's losing record around. He does not expect to fall in love with the team's captain, a certain scrappy point guard named John Watson. Or: Sherlock is the team's best shooter. John is the team's best ball-handler.

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 175,094+ w., 35/? Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

Of Ice and Men by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 176,906 w., 20 Ch. || Olympics AU || Paralympics, Prosthesis, Disability, Established Relationship, Threesome - Johnlockstrade, Angst with Happy Ending, Coming Out, Secret Relationship, Asexuall Sherlock, Pilot John) – Greg wants Sherlock to win his first Olympic Gold medal. Sherlock wants John to win his first Olympic Gold medal. John wants Greg to come to bed wearing all four of his Olympic Gold medals, and you didn't really think this would be that terribly serious after reading that title, did you? Bundle up, it's a Winter Olympics OT3!

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #coming out #my fic recs #sexuality fics #mindless-octopus

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 4 years ago

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Motion Sickness Chapter 70

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"So they're letting you out?" Ruby asked.

"Well I've been in out-patient care and I got out of in-patient care." I shrugged. They were giving me my weapon back with a hefty fine and time-served. I guess they were desperate for reformed huntsmen on the right side of the law.

And my psychiatrist had eagerly pressed me through as truly reformed. I'd had to sit in front of a judge for my sentencing but my psychiatrist had explained who I was and the extenuating circumstances I had been through. A mind control semblance was the declassified word.

Horrifying.

"That's it then? You're free?" Ruby wondered.

"All horizons," I told her.

"Atlas law requires you to see a therapist for nine weeks minimum," Weiss cut in on my other side. "For the PTSD related issues."

"This fucking continent." I clenched a fist.

"It's for your own good. Better to not fight it and come out of it with something." Weiss said.

"I can't believe you're getting off so easily," Blake muttered.

"Hey did you get a deal like this once?" I asked. "And you weren't even mind controlled."

She looked away and said nothing. Truly reformed huntsmen were hard to come by and it was easier to snatch them up where they appeared. My psychiatrist, therapist, and neurologist all greenlit me.

"Speaking of, how are those meds they have you on treating you?" Weiss asked.

"They're sedating. But I'm managing. The ones they had me on before this batch gave me terrible nightmares."

"Is that how it works?" Weiss wondered.

"It's not an exact science. There's some guessing involved to find some that work for you."

"And these ones work for you?" Yang asked.

I waggled a hand. "I miss THC and CBD but this seems like a close second."

"The doctors said that those were both exacerbating your symptoms," Weiss wedged in.

"Those doctors have never had an alien goddess in their mind." I was met with a loud silence. They weren't sure what to say when I said something like that. No one was. Because no one knew what I was going through besides my sisters wherever they are. I paced forward. "So this is Atlas Academy?"

"We'll have to talk to the General about getting you a room," Ruby muttered.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." Yang rolled her eyes. "I mean, no offense."

"Yeah well I have to serve my time somehow. Military service is probably it for somebody like me. With my particular set of skills."

"But will he trust you?" Weiss asked.

"Better question. Should I be trusted or will I sell you all out to Salem again?" I asked.

"You didn't sell us out. You brought us the relic," Ruby said.

"I… I killed Ren and Nora, Ruby." I couldn't believe her. She still believed in me.

"That wasn't you," she denied. Maybe she even believed it. I couldn't be sure with Ruby. Well I could. She was just hard to look at because of it.

"It wasn't not me. I have a lot to atone for, and I might do it again."

"You broke her control over you once," Weiss reminded me. She led the way through grey halls up to the headmaster's office.

"I keep telling everyone I have no idea how I did that though."

"You're not exactly selling me on this. On you," Blake informed me.

"Not really trying to. I'm trying to remind you how dangerous I really am. How much of a liability I could be. It's important."

"Cloud, how does this whole time served thing work?" Yang asked.

"That's a little up to Ironwood. He could send me anywhere but he sort of has to accept me somewhere. That's what the judge ruled. He's not a dictator. Not yet at any rate."

"It'll probably be better if you don't talk to him like that," Weiss said. "He won't appreciate it."

"You're probably right." I sighed. We took a grey elevator up to his office. It provided a scenic look out over the tundra and parts of Mantle.

Neo was out there somewhere. I contacted her and let her know I was watching for Cinder from this side and promised to let her know if anything was going down. I was sure she was managing just fine without me though. I was on the inside now. I could watch for Cinder better from here. I'd just have to trust that Neo would show up when it was opportune. I just hoped she wouldn't think I was abandoning her or the cause. Because I wasn't. I was still in camp ‘murder Cinder’ and she was a big girl, she could look after herself if only for as long as this charade lasted. It couldn't go on forever. Eventually I'd slip up and something Salem related would happen.

I also let her know I was getting some serious psychological help for the psychosis. She seemed neutral about that, though. Maybe she thought I was doing just fine. I hadn't been but I was glad she thought that.

Ironwood wasn't in when we arrived. That left us waiting outside for a bit. You couldn't really expect him to be in at all times.

Winter Schnee was there though. She gave me an icy glare and I just smiled back at her wolfishly.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Right back at you. How's the throat?"

"Just fine, thank you. You won't surprise me again."

"I don't need surprise to beat you," I told her. "You're fragile. Like glass. I was worried about breaking you. On accident. And don't think that becoming a maiden will bail you out. I almost killed Cinder and I was weaker then by a country mile."

"Weiss, you told him?" She looked shocked.

"He already knew. All about the bunker and what was in it." Weiss responded calmly.

"Neo and I did some digging in that department," I said.

"Ah yes, your criminal partner. Any idea where she is right now?" Winter asked.

"I have no idea." I told her honestly. "I have had no contact with her since my voluntary imprisonment," I then lied. I mixed the truth with lies.

"I see. Well should you remember anything Atlas would consider that necessary information."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I ought to teach you respect."

"Many have tried. Like my Mother. "

Her eyes gleamed, spotting weakness. "You meant Salem, I am sure."

"I did…" I trailed weakly.

"Winter, that's enough. Leave him be. Family is complicated and he didn't ask to be born to that monster. You and I should have some empathy for that," Weiss said.

Winter sighed down at Weiss. "Weiss…"

The general walked in and spotted us. He noticed Jaune armed with his weapon.

"They gave you your weapon back, so soon?" Ironwood asked.

"A week and half isn't that soon," I muttered. "I'm here for my assignment."

"I see. And team RWBY is…"

"Moral support," I granted.

"Have a seat Mr. Arc."

"It's Strife now."

"You changed your name, then."

"Arc was a fake name anyway. It was the name my parents gave me." I took a seat. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence I just said. Most people were given their names by their parents. Most people just didn't hate their parents like I did.

"I can respect that. Ozpin has recommended an assignment close by for you. I'm less convinced."

"He did? Why?" I asked.

"He wants to see if you are capable of his and Salem's kind of magic. He wants to train you if that is that case."

"Oh," I hadn't thought of that. "Well I did give his current body some training. Maybe he just wants to pay it forward."

"Perhaps. And he's done a great deal to protest your innocence. You should be grateful to him."

"Then I am."

"I have decided you will work out of this Academy. For the time being at least."

"You want me where you can keep an eye on me," I deduced.

"Things will go smoother if you have more trust in me than that. I am sure your therapists will have been trying to work through your paranoid thinking with you. Not everyone is trying to watch you, Mr. Strife." He steepled his fingers.

"But I'm pretty sure you are." Weiss elbowed me fairly hard in the side. "Regardless of your reasons for doing it I am grateful."

"I was hoping we could talk more about how you were made. You explored Merlot's laboratory and might have insights for me," he probed.

"I actually explored two different labs. I ran into someone in the second, near here in Solitas. Near a place called Nibelheim. He was a man with a mustache and a navy suit with yellow trimmings. He had green eyes and dark hair. I didn't see his weapon, though. He never used it. He said he was the one who made my sisters before he tried to use the laboratory…” I struggled for the word. “Defenses? To try and kill me."

"I see. But you found no more information on you or your sisters there?" He asked.

"No. Just more of my father's usual experiments on the Grimm. Something to do with turning them blue. I'm really not sure. The lab in Anima was like that too except he was turning them green and there were humanoid Grimm that he had designed. They were loose and in tanks in the facility. Tanks not dissimilar to the one he grew me in."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Weiss's comforting aura drew in beside mine. She tasted like whipped cream and clear crisp crushed ice.

"And he grew you in one of these… 'tanks?'" Ironwood asked.

"An incubator of some sort, I'm sure. But to me they were just these sort of pods. Merlot's book has more notes on the one he used for me. It was a bit different than the others. He grew me from a fetus until I was nearly an adult in just a year," I said.

"That would make you young. Like Penny Polendina." His brow went up at me.

"Yeah. Something like that. I'm between three and four years old. I don't have an exact date for my birthday either. Don't remember if they ever gave me one or if it really matters considering I didn't have a birth," I informed him. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

“A great deal. About your origins. How you came to Beacon. Whether you have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses.”

“I don’t really know. And I’ll remind you that I am just a failure, after all." I wasn't really meant to last. I was just a prototype.

"Cloud..." Ruby whined behind me. The noise she made sounded like she was sad for a dog. It wasn't a good sound.

I ignored her. "I don’t really know how I came to attend Beacon. I don’t have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses. From my perspective she seems pretty unstoppable."

"It's impossible to say." Ironwood returned. "But if we should come up with a way to divorce you from her we will let you know."

"Thank you for telling me," I said.

"Of course. Now, let's see what you can do Mr. Strife."

"Finally, something I'm good at."

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I glid through the training chamber at one of the Ace Ops members. I hadn't learned their names but he had a boomerang rifle and he was a dog faunus.

I caught up to him and swung twice horizontally in two enormous strikes that buffeted him around when he tried to block.

He jumped back and tried to fire at me but my profile was low as I came at him in an unrelenting fashion. I palmed a dust crystal and hit him with a lightning bolt that knocked him to his knees.

I came at him with a diagonal cut when another Ace Operative grabbed me with extensions of his aura. He tried to stop me in place but I jumped and twirled and cut at his golden aura. I severed the extended hands and the removed parts dissolved into fading golden light.

I front-flipped, moving on to the new target. I landed up on some of the glowing cubes in the training room. He reformed his hands and tried to beat me but I just sliced through. I flew at him with both hands on my broadsword.

My sixth sense called out to me and I flicked my sword up to block the boomerang rifle. It rebounded back to its user and he opened fire on me as I went after the wacky inflatable arm guy.

I closed the gap on the pillar he stood on and slashed through his aura arms that got in my way. I kicked him off the pillar and brought my sword down on his head. I cleaved deep into his aura and still I chased him as I blew him to the ground level with a massive overhead attack.

He had a lot of aura. He might be the only person I'd ever met in my own percentile of aura. He might even have more than me.

I chased him as he fell from when I slammed him and I beat him to the ground. I Cross Slashed him before he hit the ground. The devastating combination caught him up. The five move slashing attack tore away at his golden aura.

My Limit Break activated.

The dog faunus came around a corner and opened fire on me. I switched opponents again as I flew at him. I held my weapon between us and blocked most of his bullets. The few that got through pinged off my aura. I slashed upwards at him and he rolled to the side with a yelp.

I just stepped up on him again and swung upwards once more. Once he was airborn I had him right where I wanted him. I juggled him once. Then twice. Then again. He couldn't escape from the aerials I swung up at him.

I jumped up to match his height and Octa Slashed him with my Limit Break. He flew towards the ground and slammed into a pile of the boxes.

His light blue aura flowed to place over him before it vanished. I flew down on him in a swooping fashion and tackled him and carried him all the way to a wall of the arena. I stabbed my sword into the ground and beat the aura out of him with my fists. I punched him in the jaw. Then the stomach. Then I picked him up and slammed him into the ground.

Golden arms wrapped around me and picked me up and threw me across the room. I slammed into a pile of boxes back first. My head rocked back against the boxes. I stood up and put my sword against my shoulder.

The wacky arm guy landed next to the dog faunus and helped him to his feet. They turned to stare at me. I stared right back.

A golden arm slithered towards me across the ground and snagged my leg. It picked me up and slammed me face first into the ground. Then it rotated me and slammed me into the ground the other way.

Then it held me in the air and I got rocked by a boomerang to the face.

I snarled and cut myself free.

I landed on a pocket of air and descended towards the ground. I flew at the two of them through machine gun fire. An arm slashed at my side and I grunted but I cut through the next one and kept flying.

I landed between them and just to flex I charged my semblance to full. Then I swept my sword through the dog faunus's aura. He went down in a light blue crackle. He was lucky I hadn't hurt him for real.

I came at the next guy with a front-flip. I brought my sword down on him and he blocked with his aura. Even still my sword bit deep. I kicked him in the middle of the chest and he stumbled back a step. Then I flew at him with a knee and caught him in the face.

A golden claw slashed me to the ground but I never hit. Instead I floated on a pocket of air and rotated in place. I swept my blade around me and forced him back a half step.

The dog faunus stood up. "Marrow, don't!"

'Marrow' opened fire right into my back.

I whipped around and glared at him. I snarled. I hit him in the head with the blunt side of my weapon and he crumpled like a sack of bricks with a large bruise forming on the side of his head.

"Do you want to call this here?" I asked the one still standing. "Or do I have to beat you into unconsciousness, too?"

"I'll surrender. You fought well." The remaining man said sibilantly.

I nodded and put my weapon in the harness on my back. I hope there was more to Ace Ops than this.

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-WG

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soundwavereporting · 5 years ago

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this (currently untitled) fic was intended for the sadly-cancelled tfrarepairings week :<

onesided soundwave/shockwave/prowl (all the pining is on soundwave’s end) ft. the junkion campaign, casual war crimes, attempted genocide, mentions of unethical scientific experiments, fantasizing, poorly handled PTSD, mentions of xenophobia, canon-typical nonsense and violence. lmk if you think there’s anything else that needs a tag.

it’ll go on ao3 whenever i think of a title!

Soundwave sat and waited.

This sector of Junkion was almost familiar—even before their arrival, it had clearly been one of the areas the unfortunate masses had fled to survive. Soundwave knew little about Junkion’s governing bodies, but he doubted it mattered.

No matter where they went, the result was the same.

A stay thought process attempted to run the probabilities of the Junkions themselves organizing a revolt against their leaders, had they not had the misfortune to make contact with the Decepticons a mere five centuries ago. Soundwave cut off the calculations before they could begin to run in earnest. That the Junkions were a mechanical race, fully sentient and still going to be extinct within the next week…Soundwave tried not to think about that.

He wondered what might have changed if Megatron were here. Would Megatron have forbade Shockwave’s envoy from landing on Junkion? And what about the test group of Junkions, sent to them as a peace offering, who now lay in pieces in one of Shockwave’s laboratories. They came from this sector, Soundwave knew, because their fear smelled like these buildings.

What little he remembered of his life before finding Ravage and the birds surfaced only in his most restless dreams. For whatever it was worth, Soundwave had come from a place like this.

Soundwave saw himself in Junkion; a chaotic melange of unstructured sensation, brought to heel only by the strength of will.

Not even his own will: Soundwave leaned back in his seat, stretching his awareness to the edge of the planet, seeking the only respite this place offered. Junkion was maddening chaos and disorder, threatening to break through what little focus had survived this campaign. He pushed past the colors and sounds that danced across the walls surrounding him, unhindered by the sensornet dampeners he had installed around the building.

He found it quickly: after all this time, his sensors were perfectly attuned to the chilling void of Shockwave’s mind.

Soundwave lingered in its absence for as long as he dared. Shockwave had never given any indication that he noticed Soundwave’s intrusion into his mind, but Soundwave did not dare press his luck. On multiple occasions, Shockwave had floated the idea of Soundwave being assigned to his command, with the understanding Soundwave would be there to continue work on Ferak’s aptly-named Nightmare Engine. Megatron had denied each request, not even needing to ask Soundwave for his input. Shockwave’s command was a euphemism for test subjects.

If nothing else, Shockwave’s cold desire for him provided all the incentive Soundwave needed to remain in Megatron’s good graces.

Soundwave could not read Shockwave’s mind, but he loved the silence all the same.

The only hint that Shockwave was still planetside at all was the passionless void amidst Junkion’s chaos. Soundwave had managed to carve out a semblance of peace in this sector, killing every Junkion in a hundred-mile radius and transferring what little signal-blocking equipment could be safely removed from his ship. Junkion was still a constant storm, but now it lingered in the back of his processor, allowing him to focus on relaying Decepticon communications across the planet. It was a simple task—too simple, leaving Soundwave excessive free time to struggle over Junkion’s hold on his mind.

Soundwave’s internal temperature kicked up a notch. The Junkions had unleashed a weapon—more chaos than anything substantive, a flurry of hundreds of acid-soaked scrap metal raining down on the encampment.

And then—ah. There he was.

Where Shockwave’s mind was eerie, comforting silence, Prowl’s mind was a tumult of conflicting numbers and trajectories as he calculated the exact path of the acid maelstrom raining down on them.

Soundwave lacked the presence of mind to look deeper and attempt to understand exactly why Prowl had determined stepping up to divert the Junkion’s attention away from Shockwave was needed.

He trusted Prowl’s reasoning all the same. Soundwave had spent a full week analyzing Prowl’s strategic choices in past campaigns, and he rarely made an error that could not be traced back to unreliable information. He allotted himself a few minutes to run scenarios as Prowl directed his squad where the fire, shooting down the storm of acidic debris with pinpoint accuracy.

Chances were Prowl had decided to save Shockwave in order to preserve command structure. Were he to allow Shockwave to be killed, the void in Decepticon High Command would lead to temporary victories—at least until someone took Shockwave’s place. Prowl likely feared someone even more ruthless—and more unpredictable—than Shockwave himself would be promoted. Bludgeon or Scorponok, perhaps.

The second reason, Soundwave was startled to realize, was because Prowl knew he was here. Decepticon communications had been transmitting across the system flawlessly, and Prowl had deduced it was because Soundwave was present. Killing Shockwave would flush Soundwave out—maybe. Or it might drive Soundwave deeper underground.

And Prowl had determined, Soundwave realized with no small amount of surprise, he was important. Not important in the vapid, Autobot way, where important mechs like Optimus Prime were lauded and shielded from the worst their factions had to offer. Important like a Decepticon, where he mattered. Not because of his alt mode or a shiny, false bauble had been implanted in his chassis, but because he was…

For a moment, Soundwave indulged himself, lingering in the tantalizing mix of fear and hate Prowl felt whenever he thought of Soundwave. He felt Prowl’s instinctive repulsion of Soundwave and his abilities, his devotion to a cause that had torn his home apart. What little sympathy Soundwave might have had for him dissolved like acid on protometal. Orion Pax had done more to destroy Soundwave’s home than Soundwave ever could, long before Soundwave had ever picked up a blaster, but Prowl would never see it that way.

He relayed the last transmissions for the cycle, then powered down the console and settled back in his chair. He was too far away to reach the battlefield before the skirmish inevitably finished (as it always did these days: in a draw), and his mission was clear: streamline Decepticon communications, jam Autobot transmissions.

Soundwave switched off his visor. Through Prowl’s eyes, he watched the Autobot gunners successfully take down the last of the storm. The Autobot’s tactical processor detected an anomaly in his surroundings, and Prowl whipped around, only for Shockwave’s blow to bounce painfully off his doorwing, shorting out the sensors as Prowl screamed and Soundwave winced at the unexpected blow.

Prowl’s mind was a finely-tuned, ruthless instrument of war, but compared to Shockwave’s dispassion, he was nothing. Soundwave allowed himself a moment to imagine what it might be like, struggling under the weight of Shockwave’s empty gaze as the scientist peeled him apart, finding what made Soundwave Soundwave…

And making it Shockwave’s.

As it inevitably did, the fantasy switched gears. Soundwave hadn’t been at an Institute in a hundred thousand years but he remembered it well—the cold steel restrains, the sharp needles digging into his neck. The mnemosurgeons’ barely-contained fear of having a high-profile target in their ‘care’ smelled like sulfur.

Soundwave exchanged the mnemosurgeons for Prowl. Where they felt fear, Prowl felt anger.

He had lived most of his life with both, and Soundwave always preferred the anger. Prowl would hurt him, yes, and Soundwave would hurt him in turn, reciting the things Prowl kept close to his spark, guarded with what tattered remnants of compassion had survived the last two million years.

And then he imagined them both, united against him. Their hands on his plating. Undoing him. Making him theirs, all ruthless, unyielding focus and cold logic pitted against the chaotic harmony of Soundwave’s mind.

Soundwave wanted nothing else.

The skirmish was brief: Shockwave was not built for combat, which factored into all of his plans. One of Shockwave’s scouts sent a ping (which Soundwave intercepted effortlessly and read before sending it on its way). They had found a way to the planet’s core.

Prowl’s scouts had found a path two days ago. Soundwave had allowed himself a brief moment of selfishness, withholding the information from Shockwave in the hopes that they might remain on Junkion a while longer.

Clearly, he had underestimated him—he had underestimated both of them.

With some disappointment, Soundwave realized their time on Junkion was coming to an end. The whorls of muted color dancing across the walls vanished for a moment, leaving nothing but the dead gray of his surroundings. He spent another longing moment in Prowl’s mind—while he might need to take care not to alert Shockwave of the mental intrusions (if an intrusion could even be detected), Prowl did not warrant any such courtesy. The desperate, rebellious part of Soundwave wanted Prowl to feel it, to seek him out and hunt Soundwave down.

He cut off that thought process as well. That bordered on courting treason—there was imagining a fantastical scenario where he was pinned between Cybertron’s greatest minds and fragged senseless, and then there was wanting to be caught by the enemy.

He felt the collision of the skirmish dissipate into Junkion’s murky atmosphere as the Autobot and Decepticon’s respective forces retreated. Steely resolve and bottomless logic clashed once more, and then Shockwave and Prowl parted ways a moment later, each sporting new dents and scratches Soundwave would have given anything to touch.

So many of his memories faded to hazy sameness as time drained all but the strongest of his emotions dry, but Soundwave hoped he would remember this.

Soundwave sighed and reactivated his visor, then got back to work.

#transformers #maccadam #soundwave's math kink is showing #soundwave #shockwave #prowl #idw #mine;

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herohotline · 5 years ago

Text

Wet Clay (P.1)

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

A/N: alright let's try this again. take 2 everybody

Summary: You’ve been officially hired as U.A’s first school counselor. You’re assigned to help the hero course- learning more about their students and teachers along the way. And if you manage to catch a crush on one of said teachers... You just hope he doesn’t distract you from doing your job.

Word Count: 3,300+

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

If there was one thing you knew about U.A, it was that the school seemed like a never-ending magnet for trouble. They’ve already been on the news twice this year due to villain attacks, and it made you wonder: hey, who’s taking care of the aftermath?

You’ve been working as a freelance therapist for over ten years, and you reached into several things. Family sessions, PTSD recovery, addiction therapy, the works. So with high hopes, you came to U.A one day with a proposal for the principal. Getting a meeting with him wasn’t easy, so you intended to use the time you got with him wisely.

Your meeting was scheduled at a random time of day- the middle of the school day, really, so when you made your way to Nezu’s office, you saw several students. They seemed like busy little bees, rushing over to the cafeteria with smiles- it must be lunch hour. The whole place was insanely big, and you wouldn’t have been able to navigate it on your own- so good thing you weren’t.

Your tour guide sure was loud, though.

“It’s great that Nezu let someone in, but he wouldn’t tell us what it’s for!” The hero you recognized as Present Mic had been chatting animatedly the whole time, and you tried your best to keep up with his energy.

“That’s strange,” you say back to him, adjusting the grip on your briefcase. They checked it at the front gate- happy to see it was only a few business papers. “I don’t think what I’m talking to Nezu about is very secretive.”

Present Mic waves his hand in the air, making a ‘ppsh’ noise with his teeth. “Nezu likes to mess around with us teachers a lot. I’m not surprised! Oh, and here we are!” He spins rather suddenly to face you, presenting the large office doors to you.

You look at it curiously. “...Isn’t Nezu supposed to be a small animal?” How could he fit through the door…?

Mic laughs as if you had made some sort of joke. He opens the door for you, patting your back as you walk inside. “I’ll be here to escort you out when you’re done, good luck!” He whispers- well, his own way of whispering, which is still very loud, before thrusting you in the office and closing the door behind you.

You blink once to try and realize what just happened.

“Ah, ___!” Nezu greets you as you stand still in the rather large office, his little body looking comical behind his desk. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting with you!” Oh boy, here we go. You don’t really appreciate Mic thrusting you into this, literally, but you smooth out your clothes and walk toward the principal’s desk.

“I feel the same way, Nezu,” you smile at him as you shake his little paw across the desk. “I’m glad you’re willing to listen to what I have to say.” He gestures to the seat beside you and you gladly take it, making yourself comfortable.

“Of course. It’s been chaotic but I’m always willing to hear ideas for the school. You mentioned therapy?” The business has begun- but oddly enough, the animal pulls out a tea set and begins to brew.

“Simply put, yes. With all the events that have been happening at your school lately, I believe it’s due time for a therapist to be hired. You’re training heroes, and while it’s important that they’re physically ready for the world of heroics, I believe they should be mentally ready as well.” You take a cup from him, muttering a ‘thank you’ as you continue to give him your proposal. “Just this year, you had a kidnapping. I know you took care of it, but those sorts of things have a large impact on kids- they might be teenagers, but they aren’t fully developed. Then there’s just the thought of studying and working to be a hero- it’s stressful, and I believe every child should have a good outlet for when it gets to be too much.”

Taking a sip of the tea, you hum under your breath. It’s a wonderful citrus flavor.

Nezu smiles. “I looked into you- I hope you aren’t offended, it’s merely what we must do for letting strangers into the campus. You’re a therapist, correct?”

You nod. “I’m not offended, I figured as much. And yes, I am. I’ve been in the field for over 10 years, so I’d like to think I know what I’m talking about when it comes to mental health.”

“Of course! I don’t doubt you!” Nezu laughs- a squeaky little noise. “You’re right, the students deserve a good person to talk to about their struggles. The question is… are you sure you can be that person?”

So he had caught onto you. Yes, more than anything, you wanted to be the one to help these kids. It’s a bit ballsy to walk into an office and suggest they hire you, unprompted, but you believe it’s the right move to make. Nothing will get done if you don’t put the first foot in, after all.

“Yes,” you tell him, as determined as you can. “I would like to be the test driver in this. With how many students U.A holds, one therapist for so many kids is nearly impossible. I’d die of stress before they do,” you pull your briefcase up to your lap and open it, handing him a few papers. “These are the things I’ve planned if you were willing to go through with hiring me. I’d like to focus on the hero course first, a few sessions with each kid throughout a few months. I want to learn about these children, and from what I learn, I can fully deduce what sort of changes need to happen in U.A. Like if my work is even needed here, or what type of therapy should be offered or special programs.”

Nezu flicks through your papers with an impressed smile. “You’ve thought a lot about this,” he says, “you seem to care very deeply.”

“I’m passionate about helping others how I can,” you tell him honestly. “And frankly, if you don’t mind my honesty, U.A is long overdue for a school counselor. Every child deserves to have someone to confide in, plain and simple, Nezu.”

At your statement, he laughs. It’s not because he thinks you’re joking, but he knows you’re right. “I love your attitude!” He says. “And you’ve convinced me. We’ll start our hiring process right away, and you can show me more of your plans. I’m happy you came to me today.”

“Oh, what?” Your eyebrows stand up in shock. “Really? Wh… really?”

“Yes!” Nezu smiles. “I had already decided on hiring you before you came. But meeting you was a pleasure and convinced me more.” He hands out his small paw again and you slowly shake it.

“Welcome to U.A, ___.”

---

Getting home, you looked back at the meeting and for a second you think you were tricked. But you’re soon emailed several background check forms and sessions for drug testing- the works of getting hired at a very cautious school. So you deduce that it’s not a trick- but it’s very strange.

You’re grateful though, and you accomplish what you can right away such as the background check, quirk information and license, and sending in your history with therapy. Nezu told you that if you were quick, you could have your first day in just a week. It shocks you- a week? It’s so soon!

Maybe, you think, they’ve already been thinking about hiring a counselor for a while. It was long overdue, and now they’re in a rush to get you in and working. You suppose that with everything that’s been going on for the school, that’s fair.

You hope you can do this- the last thing you want is to let this opportunity slip through the cracks and let everyone down.

---

After a full week of filling out paperwork, various meetings, and a lot of movement speeches that you’ve given yourself to get through it, your first day at U.A comes, bright and early on a Monday morning. And, interestingly enough, your first big task of the day is getting dressed.

The students have uniforms, but the teachers all wear their hero costumes, and you’re not a hero. So what on earth do you wear? You glare at your closet for a long time before finally slipping on a simple button-up shirt tucked into some slacks. It’s the most professional-casual you can get, right?

Taking the train to U.A was a bit busy, but you were buzzing with first-day energy that you couldn’t even mind the pushing and shoving of people coming on and off the train. You’re sure that the longer you have to take the train, the more it will bother you, but today it seems like nothing can break through your hopeful exterior.

God, you hope this works. You hope the kids like you.

It feels funny to walk into U.A with no guards hounding you- but thanks to your I.D that you got just yesterday, you walk in without any problems. It makes you grin. Your first stop for the day is to find Eraserhead- you’re meeting with his class first and taking over homeroom for today. Tomorrow, you’ll meet with the other hero course.

When you walk into the teacher's lounge, nerves are tingling your senses. It feels like it really is the first day of school, but instead of a student, now you’re a teacher, sort of. The room looks empty, so you assume the teachers have all gone to their classes for the day. You wonder where Eraserhead is…?

It’s as you walk around the desks in a curious manner that a yellow bag on the floor catches your eye. Quite frankly, you do a double-take on it-- is someone sleeping in there?

“Hello?” You walk up to the bag. “Is that you, Eraserhead?”

You remember Nezu joking about something like this, but you didn’t take him seriously. As the sleeping bag rolls around, your eyes widen in surprise as you see that yes- this is Pro-Hero Eraserhead sleeping on the floor.

His tired, dry eyes look up at you. “You’re the therapist?” He asked, his voice deep and scratchy.

“...Yes. ____.” It’s all you can manage to say as you watch him slowly crawl out of his bag, picking it up and standing on his feet. All of a sudden, he’s looming over you with his height and it almost catches you off guard. “Thank you for working with me,” you shake yourself out of your thoughts and present your hand to him.

As he shakes it back, you notice that his hand basically engulfs yours. Woof.

“I’m glad you’ll be working with the students,” he says, and his honesty throws you for a loop as he begins to walk off, you following him from behind. “Do you mind telling me what you have in store for the day?”

“Right!” You try to walk a little faster so you can walk side-by-side with the man, his legs quite longer than yours. “I figured I'd like to introduce myself, let the kids get to know me. It’s hard to suddenly have a new face around, as well as being expected to talk about your problems with a stranger. So I just need to not be a stranger anymore.” You look up to Eraserhead and he silently nods. You figure that’s his way of telling you ‘good idea’?

“We’re here.” He stops in front of, again, another rather large door. They all seem to look like this. “Get ready.”

As the door opens, you’re immediately met with the sound of teenagers laughing and yelling. Eraserhead heads in first, thankfully, and you peek your head in to get a look of the students. You’ve seen a lot of them through the news, so some faces are familiar, while others aren’t.

“Class,” Eraserhead’s authoritative voice cuts through all the noise. The students are quick to sit in their seats, heads up and attentive for their teacher. He sighs, his shoulders sagging in a tired manner. “Today, ____ will be taking over the class,” you take that as your cue to enter the room, standing next to Eraserhead silently. “I’ll still be here, so don’t disrespect them. Listen to them, take what they have to say seriously.”

That seems to be the end of his little speech as he shuffles away in that same sleeping bag you found him in. You step up to the podium, and your nerves are back as you look at the sea of students. Oh boy.

“Hello, everyone,” you smile. “As Eraserhead mentioned, my name is ___. There’s no need for formalities with me, you can just call me by name. My job here at U.A is to be your school counselor.” You watch as several of their faces change and you laugh a little. “I know, it’s strange. I’m here today to ask you a few questions. My first question being, how many of you are comfortable talking with a stranger?”

None of their hands raise beside a rather sparkly boy with blonde hair.

“I appreciate your honesty!” You gesture for him to put his hand down and he does so. “Most of you aren’t going to come to me right away with struggles you may have, and I understand that. My job today is to have you all get to know me. We’ll be doing a few activities, and by the end of home-room, you’ll go back to your regular classes. Are there any questions?”

A hand shoots up right away, and you nod your head to the girl it’s attached to. She looks very attentive and scholarly- you have a feeling she might be a class president or something like that. “Why has the school decided to hire a counselor?”

“That’s a good question. What’s your name?” You ask.

“Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“Thank you for asking, Yaoyorozu. Truthfully, with all the events that’s been going on in your district, the school believes we should be more attentive to our students' mental wellbeing.” You feel like you’ve gone over this pitch thousands of times… “It’s important that you all have an outlet when you’re stressed or upset.”

Yaoyorozu seems satisfied with your answer as she nods, her hand going back in her lap. Another hand rises after that- not as confident as Yaoyorozu, but still there.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering- my, uh, name is Midoriya Izuku! I was wondering what we’d talk about in your office?” The boy has wonderful green hair that curls at the ends, freckles on his cheeks that make him look innocent and cute. He’s somewhat nervous, which intrigues you, but you move on to his question.

“Yes, in my office…”

The rest of the period goes like this. You eventually get a question out of almost every student, and they seem to be warming up to you already. You’ve learned most of their names- but you’ll probably need a few days until you remember them all. After the questions, you do a few games together that you thought up- things that typically would be done in middle school. You split up the classroom as you have them learn more about each other- things like ‘go to the left side if you’d rather lose your taste, go to the right if you’d lose your smell’. They were simple activities that the students seemed to mostly enjoy, and you participated in them as well.

At one moment, you asked a very specific question on purpose: how do you feel about your quirk? If you like it, you would go to the right side of the room. If you dislike it, you’d go to the left. If you weren’t sure how you felt, you’d sit in the middle. In the end, only you and boy with white and red hair stand in the middle as the rest of the class sits on the right.

“What is your quirk?” He asks you and you smile down at him. Everyone turns their attention toward you, clearly interested.

“My quirk is called Sensory. If I use it right, I can heighten my own or someone else’s senses such as their hearing or sight. But if I use it wrong, the person goes into sensory overload.” You explain it as simple as you can, and a pink hand raises in the air. You can’t quite remember her name…

“Why don’t you like your quirk?”

“Well, I don’t dislike it,” you quickly reassure the class, “but I have my reasons, as I’m sure Todoroki has his own as well?” You look down at him and he nods silently. “Anyway, I asked this question so that you all would get to know who I am a little better. Quirks are a great way to express yourself, but it’s important to remember that it isn’t the only way. It’s okay to not feel completely at home with your Quirk, but it’s important to understand it and accept it as a part of you.”

After the activity ends, the period is over and it’s time for you to go down to your office. Eraserhead offers to walk you there since you’re still new to the building and you gratefully take it. The two of you leave the classroom with a stern word from the teacher for his students to wait patiently for Present Mic to arrive ‘or else’. You have a feeling that there's no real threat behind his words, but it seems to work.

“So,” you fill the silence in the hallway, “do you think it went well, Eraserhead? You know them best.” You look up at him and the hero reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. He’s not quite looking at you, but you know he’s paying attention.

“You don’t have to call us by our hero names,” he huffs and his hands go back into his pockets.

“Oh! Well… To be honest, the forms Nezu gave me never mentioned any of the teacher’s names, so I don’t actually know…”

“Typical of him,” the man rolls his eyes, his lips tugging upward just a bit at the ends. “You can call me Aizawa,” all of a sudden you both come to a stop and you realize that you’re outside of your office on the first floor. “Mic is Yamada and Midnight is Kayama… I’m sure you know who Yagi is.” You nod. “You’ll learn the rest of their names along the way. The 1-B teacher is Kan, by the way.”

“Oh, good! Thank you, Aizawa,” you smile up at him. “And thank you for walking me back.”

“You’ll get used to it in a bit,” he sounds sure of himself, making you believe him. “And… you did fine with the kids. I can think of a few who might come over by the end of the week.”

His reassurance is honestly very touching, as you weren’t really sure of yourself.

“I hope I have at least a week, my office is kind of baren right now,” you laugh at yourself a little. “And thank you- it’s good to hear. I really hope this goes well, you know? I think I can really help them- I want to help them.”

Aizawa just stares down at you but you’re honestly getting used to his silence. You can already tell that he’s a man of few words, so you’re grateful that he’s talked to you as much as he has. You laugh again- you’re not sure why- before opening your door and waving goodbye to him. He leaves after that, and now it’s just you alone in your office.

You sigh as you look around the room. It’s got the essentials- two chairs, a couch, and a table in the middle. Then there’s a desk in the corner of the room, but other than that, it’s empty. You’ll definitely have to fill up the area to make it seem more welcoming- maybe you can bring some things over from your apartment.

All you know is that you’re determined. By the end of the week, you’re going to make this place feel like home.

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dweetwise · 5 years ago

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day 18: panic attacks

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: fluffy angst, idk if this even qualifies as whump but it’s what i went with <3 warnings: panic attack descriptions word count: 1920

Ace is having a rather good day, all things considered. He finishes his second generator of the trial while Feng is still doing a phenomenal job at being chased by the killer, and he even has time to stop and search a chest in good conscience.

He picks up a broken key with a worn brass token, which isn’t ideal but he’ll add it to his ever growing pile of junk back at camp anyway.

In the time it takes him to find a generator, the Nurse has finally managed to down and hook Feng, but someone saves her right after and the chase beings anew. Ace would guess the rescuer was David and that he used borrowed time to make sure the gamer made it out, since he can’t see Felix being stupid bold enough to unhook in the killer’s face like that.

With the Nurse’s distant screeches providing some pleasant background noise—considering it’s not Ace she’s chasing—he gets to work on a nearly completed generator by one of the exits. If he finishes it before the killer comes to check, it marks their fourth completed objective of the trial, and it looks like they’ll have an easy escape provided she doesn’t have the obnoxious totem perk to ensure an instant down after the gates are powered.

At first, Ace doesn’t question why someone would have abandoned the nearly completed machine, but just before he connects the last two wires, he hesitates. Will this be the last generator on this side of the map? Maybe someone wanted to leave it because it’s by an exit?

He gets up to look around a bit, trying to spot any other nearby generators, but then he hears it.

A sob.

Ace frowns in worry and keeps looking around, not seeing any signs of life. Did he imagine it? Feng is the only one injured, and her moans of pain can be heard from halfway across the map. The girl is a lot of things, but quiet sure as hell isn’t one of them.

He remembers the key in his pocket, a normally useless item with an underwhelming add-on that will allow him to see his nearby teammates for only a couple of seconds. But right now, it’s exactly what he needs, and as he channels the item, he eventually makes out a human form cowering in the corner next to the exit gate.

The key’s power dies out but Ace doesn’t care, carefully approaching his distressed teammate.

He should have guessed who he’s going to find just by basic deduction, as Feng is still keeping the Nurse busy somewhere in the Asylum and David is one to push forward through sheer stubbornness. It still takes him by surprise to notice Felix, normally so calm and collected, huddled in on himself with his knees drawn close to his chest and his head buried in his hands.

Ace suddenly feels very out of place, and he realizes he could just slowly back away and Felix probably wouldn’t even know he was ever there.

But Felix doesn’t seem to be just taking a mental break from the trial, he looks to be struggling. His entire body is trembling and he’s taking sharp, wheezy breaths, bordering on hyperventilating.

And Ace might not be the best at offering comfort, but he sure as hell is going to try.

“Hey,” he offers softly as not to spook Felix, but from the way Felix’s head snaps up in surprise, he’s not successful. Shit, he’s never seen the guy so upset, looking utterly broken with tears and snot running down his face and taking short, shaky breaths. It make’s Ace’s cold, selfish heart clench in sympathy and he slowly kneels down on Felix’s level, far enough away to hopefully not feel like he’s cornering him. “How you holding up?”

That’s probably the dumbest thing he could have asked, but at least it makes Felix react, quickly wiping at his face and averting his eyes.

“F-fine, sorry—” Felix starts, but then his trembling voice breaks on another sob and he hides his face behind his hand in shame as another wave of what Ace assumes to be a panic attack hits.

Ace has never been good at dealing with emotions, his or others’, but he’s learned a lot after being swept up by the Entity and trying to keep everyone in their little group happy and healthy. He knows that Dwight needs to be held when his anxiety surfaces, and although that position is usually reserved for Jake, Ace has been the body for Dwight to cling to on a few occasions when others were unavailable. On the other hand, when something triggers Quentin’s PTSD, the boy wants nothing more than to be left alone, and even the smallest touch will send him spiraling deeper into his own head.

“It’s alright,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice calm and even offering an encouraging smile. “We’ve all been there.”

That seems to calm Felix down some, so Ace optimistically deduces that maybe his presence does help after all.

This is a vastly different situation from Dwight or Quentin, though. Where Ace mostly sees himself as a somewhat shitty parental figure to the boys, he’s been openly flirting with Felix ever since the other got here. And despite Felix sometimes awkwardly flirting back, he fully expected their relationship to stay at the casual friendship level.

But this is huge step, and if Ace manages to comfort him without hiding behind shitty jokes and Felix allows himself to be vulnerable, maybe that’s a sign they could eventually be something more.

“Just say the word and I’ll be on my way,” Ace starts. “But I also have a pretty good shoulder to lean on, if that’s something you think might help.”

Felix glances at him and Ace tries to keep the smile on his face despite his own nerves surfacing and mixing with the worry for Felix already there.

“Are you sure?” Felix asks, voice nowhere near steady but at least being able to form a complete sentence.

“Of course!” Ace reassures without even knowing which option Felix is referring to.

And then Felix looks back at the ground and curls in on himself further and Ace tries not to be disappointed. He’s already moving to get up, an apology ready on his tongue, when Felix shuffles along the exit gate wall to make room for Ace to join him.

The grin that forms on his face might not be the most appropriate considering the circumstances, but Felix doesn’t protest, in fact he immediately buries his face against Ace’s shoulder and clasps his arm in a death grip as soon as he takes a seat next to him.

Felix takes shallow breaths against him and Ace doesn’t care that his shirt is getting stained with wet tears and snot, suddenly hit with how intimate the entire situation is. His own nerves resurface and his free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, not sure if it’s appropriate to touch the distressed man.

But in the end, he’s a gambler, and so he gambles, placing a hesitant hand in Felix’s hair as he remembers the other is usually messing with it when he’s nervous.

When the only reaction he gets is Felix gripping his arm tighter, he carefully starts running his hand through the locks, slightly disheveled from where Felix has no doubt been doing the same.

“It’s okay,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping Felix can’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re okay.”

“I’m going to get crows,” Felix chokes out through the tears.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace reassures, discreetly looking up to try to spot the birds that should already be circling above Felix’s head. “Feng and David are keeping her busy. She’s got no reason to come here.”

Ace frowns as he realizes can neither see nor hear the Entity’s spies, despite knowing their captor’s rules clearly state the birds should be giving away their location by now.

The key sits heavy in his pocket and he suddenly realizes maybe the Entity wanted him to find Felix. Regardless of how Ace feels about the otherworldly being, he knows it’s not satisfied unless the trial has been what it considers “fair”. Maybe it’s giving them a time-out until Felix is in shape to continue, and maybe that’s why Feng still hasn’t been caught, despite being injured against one of the strongest killers.

“Seems like the crows are on their lunch break,” Ace voices his observation in hopes of reassuring Felix. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Not surprisingly, the knowledge that he’s not on a time limit seems to calm Felix down some, and the grip on Ace’s arm loosens as the sharp breaths slowly turn into more deliberate ones.

“That’s it, deep breaths,” Ace murmurs and keeps petting Felix’s hair since it seems to be working, or at least not making the situation worse. “You’re going to be fine.”

He has no idea how long they sit there together, with Felix slowly coming back to himself and Ace offering generic encouraging sentiments he hopes are somewhat helpful, lost in their own little bubble while the trial carries on without them.

When Felix eventually pulls away, Ace feels disappointed, even if he finally gets some much needed blood flow to his arm that has fallen asleep a while ago.

“Fuck,” Felix sighs and leans his head back against the tiled wall with a dull ‘thud’. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not,” Ace offers with a small grin. “But I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I didn’t expect one in the middle of a trial,” Felix says, letting Ace is on the fact that this wasn’t a one-off. “Thank you. You, um, helped. A lot,” Felix says bashfully, and Ace has to resist the urge to pull him back into his arms.

“Don’t mention it,” he says instead, and when Felix just gives him an adorable, tiny smile, can’t resist adding a cheeky “There’s a lot worse ways to spend a trial”.

“I’d say being a liability and making a complete fool of myself isn’t something I’m eager to repeat,” Felix mutters, but he’s still smiling, so Ace hopes he’s not still embarrassed.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t make the situation worse,” Ace jokes. “Or that my brain didn’t implode on itself from not making jokes or flirting for five minutes.”

“You were perfect,” Felix says so earnestly it takes Ace completely off guard, and he’s not blushing he’s just suddenly really warm okay— “I should get back to my generator,” Felix seems to remember, looking over Ace’s shoulder in the direction of the machine. “I’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time for today.”

“If there’s anything we have plenty of, it’s time,” Ace reassures, pushing himself off of the wall and ready to join the trial.

He offers a hand to help Felix up, and it makes him smile when Felix only hesitates for a split second before accepting the gesture.

“You know, we should do this more often,” Ace says with a grin as he pulls Felix up on his feet. “I mean, preferably without the panicking. I didn’t mind but it didn’t exactly look like you were having the time of your life.”

Felix huffs out a small laugh at the statement, and then he squeezes Ace’s hand that’s still clasped in his.

“I’d like that.”

#whumptober2020 #no.18 #panic attacks #dead by daylight #fic #riconti #dweetwrites #ace visconti #felix richter #dbd #prompt #felix x ace #dbd fanfic #mental illness cw

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encyclopedia-please · 4 years ago

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Fatherhood

I have noted that I strive to be “a half-decent father”. The keyword being “strive”. When I say strive, I mean that I do not easily take on the responsibility of fatherhood; fatherhood does not come naturally to me. I would be a fool to assume I am alone in this thought. Motherhood, for the sake of argument, does not come easily to most mothers; Postpartum Depression (PPD) exists for potentially all parties involved in the process of preparing for, and ultimately delivering life into the world for which they are now primarily, if not wholly, responsible. Extending PPD past the traditional sense (into adoption, for example) is beyond the scope of this dialogue. The roles and responsibilities of fatherhood are greatly subjective and due, in part, to one’s cultural background.

My foundations in fatherhood were tainted from an early age. The only fatherly figure I had was my father. My father inherited his father’s parenting style: distant, strong, and a tad bit totalitarian. In this, my childhood education in the roles and responsibilities of parenting and, specifically, fatherhood, boiled down to a provincialist outlook; my grandmother and grandfather raised my father in rural, mid-twentieth-century Texas. My father being an only child, and having a non-existent extended family, excluded him from experiences others may gain with younger siblings or a fuller family. Furthermore, during and after military service, my father had three sons. By his own account, he left his children and their mother and traveled the country alone for some time. In retrospect, I would attribute his actions as the result of PPD. That PPD, in conjunction with medically diagnosed PTSD, and his limited view of paternal duty, lead him, or influenced him, to make the decisions he did. As a child, knowing these facts and hearing these stories instilled in me a goal to raise a happy family despite my potentially inevitable destiny.

Those learned and inherited, fundamental and societal character flaws, which I strove most to deter, ended up consuming me in the end. My incessant need to control every bit of my children’s and wife’s lives to prevent ending up like my father ironically lead down a path almost identical to his. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy if you like. And even though the minute details of my father’s personal life are left as a mystery to me, I can deduce from my own experiences what kind of person he used to be. However, in this sense, I was a victim of my father’s upbringing, and personal details are just that: personal.

But when does the disclosure of a father’s personal history become necessary to the offspring? Perhaps when that history can enable a child to learn from, and avoid the consequences of, actions the father has already carried out. Had I some insight into my father’s past beyond vague storytelling, perhaps I would struggle less to adjust my position on parenting. And while I am fully aware that a multitude of factors can, and have, influenced me in various ways, I can say with certainty that the majority of my initial beliefs resides in the unconscious perception I had created due largely in part to what I knew a father to be. Nevertheless, and better late than never, I have come to recognize the lens through which I view fatherhood and the potential factors that influenced it. With this, I can begin to take the necessary steps to reconstruct my idea of “fatherhood.” I can begin to recognize what I perceive as negative parental practices and adjust these according to a sense of what I would call “ethical parenting.”

I believe moral and ethical paternal duty surpasses any negative parental roadmaps we may have been ingrained with. The application of ethical paternal duty is how I conduct myself with my children, and how I operate my life when considering their well-being, ultimately culminating in a holistic shift in perception of what being a father means to me.

What do you think?

Whether you are a parent or not, what does being a father mean to you?

What do you feel is the role of the father in your culture?

#fatherhood #father #paternal #dad #my dialogues #philosophy #culture #society #opinion

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papers4me · 5 years ago

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Fruits Basket SE02 (ep,6)

Good ep with lots of character insights! kinda felt long, too.

-TOHRU!!

“you dont carry a photo of your dad“, “all you ever talk abt is your mom” & “you have a serious mother complex” Thank you hiro!!!! finally the show is acknowledging tohru’s dark thoughts/ troubled past/ mom issues! This means more tohru focus. She HAS mom issues (grief) & her attachment to her mom is not presented as a cute trait. It is questionable (a coping mechanism). She was really in loss of words in front of hiro. Her happy mask failed her. The I’m Okay mask that fooled everybody to think she’s over her mom’s death after only 4 months. her awkward laugh came out weak, defeated & so painful.

-Tohru‘s flashback contains snippets of where her issues started. A younger kyoko & tohru, her dad’s funeral? I see a shrine? or incense next to his picture. Kyoko closing the door on tohru? then kyoko’s death as tohru stands alone in what used to be their flat..Tohru whispering “its okay” to herself repeatedly is heart breaking.“we’re always together” is tohru’s mantra. This is her coping mechanism, keeping her mom alive in her heart & memories...otherwise..tohru’s alone. It’s so frightening being alone after a loved one’s death. cuz death is final. there’s no visits, words, sightings between you & them. There’s only the memories. Once these are gone...you are truly alone without them. Tohru being an orphan plays more into this.. she truly has no one to face the world with. The sohmas? a “found family”? how long will tohru be with them? how long she’ll stay with them? a day will come when each pursue their life/career/future...She’ll be alone again. Tohru’s journey is about dealing with grief. After perfecting her mask thro the night. she’s so falsely bubbly & happy. she fooled all the ppl she’s with. Except for the trained eye of tohru’s cat.

Kyo’s subtle development:

The show is acknowledging that it is easy to miss kyo’s character changes since his thoughts are blocked from the audience. However, while the show insists to continue to block kyo’s inner thoughts for plot reasons, it tries to make up for it by making kyo’s subtle character changes noticed by other characters within the show. Since season 1, many characters have commented on kyo’s changing behavior, season 2 Kazuma, Kumintsu & now momiji. he’s becoming less angry, more into joining the others & overall kinder. His tone is calmer, too. He didn’t even get angry at Ayame when he barged in his room in SE02 ep,2. These changes resulted from kyo reflecting on his behavior & consciously modifying it even if we didnt hear his thoughts. I must say, that as much as I’d love to hear kyo’s thoughts abt himself, I’m loving that the show is using visuals to show the change. It is fun to watch & analyze! Although it also means, I might miss some.

- Kyo & tohur’s beach scene is representation of his growth. I’m impressed the show used that small convo Kyo & tohru had in ep,2. I never thought that could be worked into the plot. Kyo is a good listener. Him noticing her faulty swimming style & coming for the rescue is cute. His tone is interesting, it was a mixture of fondness of her silliness, tiredness from her not-so smart antics, & joy of making her laugh. What’s really interesting is that kyo moved in front of everybody. Before, he was fond/kind/concerned for tohru when their alone. He wouldn’t behave like that in front of the others. But now, this kind of behavior has become so normal to him that he subconsciously shows it in front of others. His attachment to her intensifies as he starts reading her better & better. Kyo noticing yet another tohru issue with just one glance & deducing that since everybody loves tohru, it must be caused by hiro who isn't under her spell.

Yuki & the hat:

Why is Yuki shocked that tohru cherishes the memory of being saved? Is it his inferiority complex (installed by Akito) that makes him think no one will ever cherish anything he does? Yuki had PTSD flashback right after witnessing kyo’s behavior. I think yuki is watching kyo’s changing & is hoping to change himself as well but is held back by Akito toxic words. Once again, haru is there for yuki. Whenever yuki indulges in toxic flashback/thoughts someone comes to help, whether it’s tohru or haru. It’s a message that yuki needs to notice. It is not pitch black. Hope is here. Open your eyes & look. Haru, also goes further & engages yuki & kyo in a race. Just like tohru did in SE1, Ep12. Engaging yuki into a game to take his mind off darkness.

Opening the Lid & the journey to heal:

Tohru’s journey is abt dealing with/overcoming grief. Kyo is about guilt & the right to live. Yuki is abt growth & discovering self. Each journey is extremely different. None of theses three should proceed with the same pace as the other since their core trauma, character traits, life experiences & obstacles are different. I love how much the show is emphasizing that You can’t overlook other’s struggles, simply because they react differently than you or you think they aren't moving as fast as you. These three, some of them will reach their goal faster than the other, it doesn’t mean they’re better or the other is worse. It simply means they are different people. Excellent story telling!

Must open the lid is metaphor for all three kids. I personally believe that since the show started with Yuki’s dark side in season 1, he’ll reach his goal first. Both Tohru & kyo took until the near end of season 1 for the show to actually dive into their trauma. I firmly believe they are delayed for plot reasons. Tohru is the main female protagonist, her struggle will be the show finale & oh boy..if kyo’s apology is indeed about kyoko..then him too will be delayed as well. This doesn’t mean they won’t get any development until then. No, we’ll have pieces of them here & there. But first, the full focus will be on Yuki. This also serves the shows message that not everybody heals with the same pace.

Rin & Shigure:

Rin didn’t come here to seduce Shigure. she looks troubled, sad & tired. She assumes Shigure knows what she wants & is willing to pay in exchange for it. “what I shall do with you” is chilling. I personally, don’t think he means physically. Not because shigure wont do it. He would if he wanted. But because Shigure is more interested in his goal than Rin. How he could use her to achieve his goal. His goal is Akito. he’s thinking where can he fit Rin in his schemes.

Side notes:

the shadow animation is weird as characters seem to be floating. lol.

I love momiji’s annoying little brother vibe with kyo. XD

Personally, I think the show’s overexposure of yuki’s inner thoughts steals from yuki as much as excessively concealing kyo’s inner thoughts steals from kyo.

that first person perspective of when Rin comes on Shigure is made on purpose. 1)fan service. 2) shocking viewers. 3) darker & mature shift in the show’s tone. 4)purposely creates misunderstanding abt Rin & shigure.

Kyo sulking after loosing is hilarious. dude, it’s the jeans’ fault.

The show is giving Hiro his little character growth through teaching him to be more sensitive & respectful of others’ feelings.

Hatori has a girlfriend now!!!!! YESS!

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #tired paper #SE02

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blu3mila · 5 years ago

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a couple of thoughts on Itch now

the connection between Itch and Ichigo is much sturdier than that of Grim/mjows. i’m thinking of going with flickering philosophies (i can cut Itch out of bleach and make him fully separate, secure and mine if need be. need currently Not be)

so Itch’igo’s story goes along the lines of bleach canon, the 15-17 y/o bullshit more or less stays (although i must admit, i’m not well versed in anything past Aizen). i could see him finishing school after all the fighting (going on fumes actually), his mental situation not addressed.

many grimmichi fics suggest weekly spars with Grimmjow and i wholeheartedly agree. i see them meeting again around Ichigo’s last year of school, fighting, becoming good friends... keeping it up as Ichigo finishes school, goes to university

i see him going to study law because it’s boring and oppressive (and he hates himself like that but he doesn’t know it yet. he feels it should be like that), struggling through a year, having some breakdowns, appearing ‘normal’ for the summer break only for it to go to hell within the first months of his second year.

Grimmjow at that point would have had enough of being gentle so he’d go to Ichigo’s uni õppetöökorraldaja and (с волками жить, по-волчьи выть) instead of blowing shit up would file Ichigo’s documents for an academic leave

then comes going back ‘home’, Ichigo being conflicted, Issin being not a good parent, Grimmjow staying with them, surprise, because i’m the god of this realm, Urahara finding him some SpIrItUaLlY aWare psychiatrist (that I-t-ch fits well with from the first try with because how much more can you torture a man) and a long road of self-discovery starts.....

.......as for what goes on on that road... hah. a lot! and neither I nor Itch know, but preview theories: there is anxiety and paranoia (could be written off to the stress of canon, but i’m not stressing a... i’m not writing it into PTSD), there’s the abundance of feelings and these feelings turning mostly sour, then medication for that turning them less pressing, but severing the iron grip Itchhh igo otherwise forever has on himself... which leads to delusions (they were there before but he didn’t see), which leads to ‘hearing’ voices (they were there but he didn’t call them that), which leads to an overall situation i referred to as ‘something schizo’ on the first post i made with him.

(at first i really felt like going with that actually. the massive stress triggering the onset of schizophrenia. like, no pussyfooting, straight out own up to putting a child to hell and bombarding him with all that weird shit. just a possible consequence that almost always gets ignored in fiction like that, a tad too serious,-ly weird)

But Then i grew closer to Ichigo and ... read fics and... as i mentioned earlier, saw some interactions with his other selves and it was a MOMENT FULL OF WONDER because i .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ related　ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

that could possibly Maybe be elaborated on later, separately. but i’m actually kind of really into it, you know. like i’m not hiding the fact that i write a lot off myself, so i suppose you could deduce some ah but it is so lovely to have a character who canonically hears voices. it is even lovelier to take that character and make it serious, make it real, make it more than a ‘canon-magick-not-actually-crazy-ha-ha’... so lovely...

#ichigo kurosaki #ocs #itch oc #grim oc #id love to hear thoughts and comments but be gentle!#grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmichi

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phantom-le6 · 4 years ago

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Film Review - Justice League vs The Fatal Five

Hello all, and welcome to my first review on Tumblr in the wake of Facebook scrapping its Notes functionality, thereby forcing me to shift platforms (a practice I hope I won’t have to keep repeating). To kick off my use of this new posting platform, I’m reviewing one of the two new films I got for Christmas, or rather the two films that are totally new to my collection; the other films I got were better copies of films I already own. Anyway, we’re taking another dip into the world of DC Comics direct-to-home release animation with a look at Justice League vs The Fatal Five.

Before we get in the review itself, however, quick bit of house-keeping for anyone who hasn’t read one of my reviews before. The structure of my reviews is intro paragraph or two, a plot summary for anyone who has seen the film before and wants to refresh their memory, then the review itself. The plot and the review are both clearly labelled, so to avoid spoilers just scroll past the section headed as ‘plot’ to the one labelled ‘review’. Got all that? Ok, then here we go…

Plot (adapted from Wikipedia):

In the 31st century, Mano, Tharok and Persuader of the Fatal Five attack the Legion of Super-Heroes' headquarters for their time sphere. Star Boy, Saturn Girl and Brainiac 5 try to keep them back but fail. Just as the villains activate the sphere, Star Boy leaps at them and is taken along. Arriving in the 21st century above Earth, Star Boy triggers a boobytrap Brainiac 5 programmed, trapping the villains inside the sphere in a stasis field. Star Boy comes down in Gotham City while the sphere ends up in Metropolis. Star Boy discovers his supply of medicine, needed to stabilize his mind, was destroyed in his rough landing. As his medicine doesn't exist yet, Star Boy's increasingly erratic behaviour gets him apprehended by Batman and taken to Arkham Asylum. The stasis-locked time machine is picked up by Superman and brought to the Justice League's headquarters for analysis.

Ten months later, Jessica Cruz is struggling with the trauma of her near-death by a murderer who killed her friends, making her afraid to leave her apartment. To add to her anxiety, she has been chosen by a Green Lantern power ring and Wonder Woman keeps trying to recruit her into the Justice League. In Gotham, Miss Martian is trying to prove herself to Batman for membership in the League, but her inexperience works against her good intentions. While trying to unlock the secret of the strange sphere, Mister Terrific accidentally brings down the stasis field, freeing its occupants. Superman and Mister Terrific fight them, but Superman is wounded by Persuader's axe and the villains escape.

Star Boy's memory is jogged by a news report of the fight, and he breaks out of Arkham. The Justice League members compare notes about these mysterious assailants and discover they are time travellers; and from Star Boy's words, Batman deduces that they are after Jessica. When the three villains attack Jessica, Star Boy comes to her rescue, followed by Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Mister Terrific, and Miss Martian, who force them into flight after a hard struggle. In the aftermath, Star Boy and Jessica form a close friendship based on the fact that both of them are struggling with their mental health.

To find out more about their guests from the future, Batman instructs Miss Martian to telepathically link them (Batman, Miss Martian and Jessica) with Star Boy's memories, thus learning about the Legion. They witness a battle between the Legion and the Fatal Five, which ended with the capture of Mano's lover Emerald Empress and Validus; as there was no prison that could hold them in the 31st century, the Legion took them to Oa in the 21st century. They also learn that if Star Boy misses more than two doses of his medication, it will cease to work and prevent him being in the Legion.

Upon their awakening, the League receives an ultimatum from Mano: Surrender Jessica or all American cities will be destroyed by bombs created by Tharok. The first bombings start in Metropolis, forcing the Justice League to move out. Left behind with Star Boy in the Watchtower, Jessica is contacted by Tharok through her ring, forcing her to surrender herself to the Five and enable them entry to Oa's prison cells. Despite interference by Kilowog and Salaak, Emerald Empress and Validus are freed, and when Jessica fights back, Persuader cleaves her ring in two. Afterwards, Emerald Empress has her Emerald Eye of Ekron steal the energy of the Central Power Battery, and the Five return to Earth to recover the time sphere.

In the meantime, Star Boy discovers Jessica's absence and informs the League. The heroes proceed to the time machine's location, a secret US military base, where the Fatal Five force them into battle. Emerald Empress subdues the Justice League and then initiates her master plan to use the Lantern's power to destroy Earth's sun, wipe out humanity, and thus prevent the formation of the Legion in their time. On Oa, Jessica recovers her faith and determination, and by reciting the Green Lantern oath, she reassembles her power ring. Brought back to her apartment by the ring, Jessica flies to the base and prevents the Fatal Five from escaping back to their own era by bringing the whole base down upon them, killing the supervillains.

Superman, Jessica and Star Boy race after the Eye, but are too late to prevent it from plunging into the sun. As the star cracks apart, Star Boy sacrifices himself by lowering himself into the sun's core and using his powers to reverse the fracturing. In the final scene as the Justice League members commemorate Star Boy's heroism, they are joined by the Legion who have come from the future to honour their fallen comrade. Batman also grants Miss Martian admission into the League for her bravery.

Review:

This film is basically an original story not adapted from anything in particular, and although it is done in the style of the DC Animated Universe that originally revolved around the Batman, Superman and Justice League animated shows of the 1990’s and 2000’s, it is apparently meant to be a stand-alone narrative. Cast-wise, we get back the like of Kevin Conroy, George Newbern and Susan Eisenberg to reprise their roles as the DC Trinity (Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman) from the Justice League animated series, and well-known voice actors like Kevin Michael Richardson and Tara Strong also feature in this production.

In terms of character, we’re certainly getting a bit of a different Justice League line-up while also getting DC’s future team the Legion of Superheroes worked into the mix, primarily through the character of Star Boy and the film’s antagonists the Fatal Five. In terms of the League itself, the customary League core that is the DC Trinity is in place, but then we have no Flash, Miss Martian in place of the better-known Martian Manhunter, and Mr Terrific to add to the team’s diversity in place of using Cyborg. Finally, we have Jessica Cruz as the team’s Green Lantern, and it’s the use of her and Star Boy in this film that makes this film stand out from any other DC films, because both of these heroes are neurodiverse.

As fans of more modern DC comics stories, or anyone who has looked into this film’s behind-the-scenes extras, will know, Star Boy is a schizophrenic, but by the 31st century there is medication to manage the behaviours that this form of neurodiversity can cause, so it’s not an uncommon idea among DC’s writers to show Star Boy getting trapped in our time without this medication. During the Justice League era between Infinity Crisis and Final Crisis (not long before DC did its new 52 reboot and decided to stick to buying pre-2000 Marvel lore), the comics did in fact do this as part of the Legion coming back in time to bring back Wally West, the then-Flash who had become stuck in the Speed Force with his wife and children during the Infinity Crisis.

By the same token, Jessica Cruz is a Green Lantern who has crippling anxiety following a traumatic event, so she’s having to use a lot of willpower to overcome that anxiety and function like anyone else. Given that Green Lanterns are chosen based on their ability to overcome great fear, not only does it make a lot of sense for someone battling anxiety to be chosen as a Green Lantern, but it also very effectively demonstrates a much more positive and healthier take on mental illness in the world of superheroes. Granted, DC isn’t being particularly original in this regard; Iron Man’s alcoholism in the comics and his PTSD in the MCU show that Marvel has at least one heroic character that they’ve been willing to showcase as a positive example of what people can do despite being mentally different to others. Sadly, neither company has yet done a good, positive, accurate take on autism yet, but then if they did, I’d have less fodder for my novel writing.

Putting two neurodiverse heroes at the core of this film really makes it a great one to watch just because for once it means the neurodiverse characters aren’t the stereotypical crazed villain types and the idiotic stereotypes that stem from such misuse of the mentally divergent in fiction get combatted a little. Granted, it would have been nicer if DC and WB could have demonstrated this kind of pro-mental health attitude in its live-action film wing by not making the Joker solo film and doing something more akin to this film in its place. There is no doubt in my mind that DC and WB need to put more of the staff behind their animated films on DCEU projects if it ever hopes to seriously compete with the MCU.

Otherwise, the film is largely just a good diversion; well-animated, well-performed, but not a huge level of plot depth despite putting two neurodiverse characters front and centre on the side of the heroes. Hopefully going forward DC and WB can address that on some future film, either animated or live-action. For now, I’m going to content myself by handing down a score of 9 out of 10.

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girlobsessed21 · 6 years ago

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The 100 6x07 analysis - putting the mind at ease

I absolutely loved this episode, the attention to detail, the explanations, the tone, and pacing. It was definitely my favorite of the season so far. And, climbing the charts to the best of the series but you’d have to work really hard to top a The 100 finale. This season is shaping up to be the best, the stories they’re exploring, the sci-fi content, the unpredictability, everything is top notch. Well done Jason and the writers, are you good friends with Elon Musk?

Ready to take a trip down memory lane, buckle up, it’s a long ride, ready, let’s go! I’m breaking this up into Clarke’s encounters with her ghosts since it takes place solely in her mind. It’s fitting for Clarke to wake up in her prison cell given that she’s literally trapped in her subconscious. Also, if I had to picture the inside of it, I’d see drawings everywhere too.

The safe space - daddy’s arms

To me, it seems like the images and voices she encounters first are those she’s lost except for her child. Finn, Wells, Lexa, and of course her father. When Clarke realizes she’s dead, she’s glad her fight is finally over but regrets not being able to say goodbye. To Madi and mom. I’ve seen some people upset that she didn’t include Bellamy, that’s because she did greet him in a certain way when she apologized and told him he was her family.

Now, the weather is a direct product of her mood. When she encounters Jake, the sun is bright in a place she was once happy. Then, the thunder starts when she gets upset. I would have liked it to be Jake himself letting her in on the heartbeat and the fact that she’s alive but he’s only a figment of her imagination. Meaning it’s the way she would have wanted it too.

I imagine this scene as the life Clarke pictured living. Content, with her father alive and Madi going to school while she draws and farms.

A.L.I.E to the rescue

Those words make no sense. Funny how she instantly transforms into Wanheda in the presence of the AI. I had some other theories on why Clarke survived and then I watched a Youtube video by the Theorizer before the episode aired which explained this fact and it made complete sense. A.L.I.E saved Clarke.

How does this work? I found an article in Techworld that explains it as follows: “At its most basic form, neural lace is an ultra-thin mesh that can be implanted in the skull, forming a collection of electrodes capable of monitoring brain function. It creates an interface between the brain and the machine.

To insert neural lace, a tiny needle containing the rolled up mesh is placed inside the skull and the mesh is injected. As the mesh leaves the needle it unravels, spanning the brain.”

To remove the neuro mesh from Clarke’s brain, they would have to EMP her. In other words, remove Josephine from the brain, drain the last of the neuro mesh and re-insert the body-snatcher.

Furthermore, I’d like to touch on the subject of there is no joy without pain. Believing this is tragical. Sure, life does include unpleasant bumps and hurdles but joy can certainly exist without pain. A glimpse into her trampled heart.

Then, A.L.I.E tells her the painful memories aren’t present. This boggles me somewhat because like I’ve said her most prominent drawings are those she’s lost. Isn’t that painful enough? Is that why she moved on to Mount Weather and the fighting pit or is there something even more agonizing than those? Something Josephine encounters by herself later?

Encountering the parasite

So, Josephine describes why both minds cannot survive simultaneously. I’m not a neurosurgeon but I gathered that the brain does not have the capacity to maintain both, which will lead to cerebral hemorrhaging and a stroke.

A power struggle between two badass female characters is always a delight to watch. Clarke Griffin is not someone you wanna mess with, told ya! The hypocrisy in Josie calling Clarke selfish and dumb is amusing. Check the mirror, sweetie.

She’s not stupid in the literal sense, obviously, she only overestimates her own causes and abilities. But the “when I tell you not to think of an elephant, what do you think about” move is smart. Unfortunately for her, our blonde hero is one step ahead.

Unlike the prime princess, who lives in a peaceful castle on a moon, Clarke has fought her fair share of battles and easily kicks ass in a physical fight. Just as she thinks she’s won, the parasite shows up again with the news that she can’t die in the mind space. Dramatic sigh.

On being haunted by Bloodreina

“Even your projections hate you, Clarke.” In episode two we already see that she is her own worst enemy. She hates herself more than anyone for the things she’s had to do.

1) Letting the bomb drop on TonDC

2) Stealing the bunker while Octavia fought for it

3) Leaving Bellamy to die in the fighting pits

Oh and now we learn why we don’t see Bellamy. He’s the one person she cannot face. In 6x04 she acknowledged leaving him to die is her deepest regret. In 6x01 she tells him he kept her sane during the six years alone. Clearly, she’d rather go up against Bloodreina, a controversial monster, than him. Why is that?

Bellamy has forgiven you, Clarke. Go ahead and forgive yourself.

Mount Weather

The place responsible for creating Wanheda. Now, it’s common knowledge that Clarke blames herself for what happened to Mia and Jasper. But seeing her question the godly decisions to save those she loves is heartbreaking. Yes, she’s made some bad choices in the past but this shows just how remorseful and compassionate Clarke truly is. War made her a monster, though that’s not who she is, at all. At least it led to the realization that she’s still in control of her own mind.

Finn’s death and Jasper’s cage

Sneaky, Clarke. Hiding the memory in one of the places you’ll never wish to revisit. But sadly, Josephine doesn’t mind exploring the place where you had to mercy kill Finn or dig into Jasper.

As if it’s not bad enough that the devil lures her to the last place she’ll want to see, she uses the one self-loathing thing about Clarke to manipulate her into giving up. Amusing how the final turning point is learning that Bellamy’s willing to sacrifice her for saving everyone else. Is it the comprehension that Bellamy no longer cares that causes her surrender or the fact that it’s the only way to save her people? A bit of both I assume.

The lock sequence was awesome - 0100. “You forgot about Bellamy and Raven - 0102. There’s only 6 of the 102 left now if I’m right. Seeing her cry in Lexa’s throne though, was so, so sad.

They definitely saved the best for last with Monty

I cannot express my gratitude for this unexpected return enough. I’ve had some terrible Monty, Harper and Jasper depression hours over the last week and this made my day. So, Mr. Cockroach Murphy, this is not what Monty would have wanted. Letting them get away with killing innocent people for immortality does not fall within the definition of doing better.

If only Clarke knew how much Madi needs her right now. She’s trudging on dangerous ground and could use some serious motherly guidance.

Who better to light the way to victory than the man who saved humanity? Six seasons and his death down the line and he’s still picking locks. Hate to be the one to say this, but Raven, Monty is purer than you are.

Applause for using Josephine’s own tactics against her by controlling her through the no-go-zone.

Crossing the sociopath's threshold

That door looks so much like a blissful suburban family home over Christmas, which I’m sure Josephine had back on earth before her tragedy. Oh, and the library is amazing, I must say. I imagine my own mind looking much the same, I love books.

But in that perfect little head, the most horrific things are hidden. Why are the primes so afraid of dying? Is it only power and narcissism that causes Josephine to resort to oblation?

Clarke learns that she offered the nulls to the trees, hence banning them from their society because they hinder the nightbloodline. But Isaac, Kaylee’s lover, gave them to Gabriel to build an army, instead. I’m certain Clarke will use this info in the future.

Gabriel loved Josephine once, I’m sure we’ll still get to this story but I can’t wait to see the face-off between the two. His last host was already 95 at the time of the memory, meaning now, six years later, he’s 101. Which is why I assume he can only exist within the anomaly where time is altered. And like I’ve said many times before the trio in the woods will turn out to be Sanctum’s saviors.

But we also see the good side of Josephine, the person she once was. PTSD probably morphed her into becoming a sociopath and the mind-drives enhanced the trauma. I feel bad for what happened to her but it does not by any means justify the person she’s become.

Why is she looking to Bellamy when she says, “I know how to kill her once and for all.” Did she see the memory of Clarke telling Roan, “I’ll do anything, I’ll stop fighting. Just, please, don’t kill him?”

Bellamy Blake, you genius

I knew it, I called it. Bellamy was the first to figure out that Josie’s not Clarke and of course the first to deduce that she’s still alive. That was some big soulmate energy right there!!! Thank you for being a big ol’ nerd and paying attention in Earth Skills.

That smile, a stark contrast to the tears that rolled last week. His princess is not gone and he’ll swim the Atlantic to bring her back. He’s gonna reel in everyone’s help on this project but be careful Bell, Josephine does not go down easy.

Just a side note. I appreciate Miller and his standoffishness in this scene since no-one seemed to mourn her last week.

One last thing, I may have been wrong about Abby, she might know something and it’s possible that’s she’s planning on taking Russel’s body for Kane. An eye-for-an-eye?

That’s all folks. As usual, you’re welcome to disagree with me. I love hearing I’m wrong and why.

#the100 #the 100 season 6 #The 100 s6 #the 100 season six #the100 6x07 #the100 6x07 review #nevermind #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #josephine lightbourne #josephine vs clarke

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

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Alrighty so I'm gonna go out on a limb and request Overstimulation fics. As in sensual not sexual because with the holidays coming up I wanna read about the boys curbing meltdowns from Too Much™ so I can feel better about my moments

Hey Lovely!

AHHHHHH hmmm. I’d like to read some too... I did a search of my TO READ list and here’s what I found that might work? Feel free to add your own, Lovelies!! I have to add a new tag to my fics as I reread them now, LOL

OVERSTIMULATION / SENSORY ISSUES (TO READ)

The Doctor's Reward by CarmillaCarmine (E, 3,124 w., 2 Ch. || Quarantine / Self-Isolation, Doctor John, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Autofellatio, Come Swallowing, Masturbation) – Sherlock decides that John needs a reward after a day of working from home. Part 11 of the The Johnlock Utopia (Holidays and Celebrations) Series

To Show You a Night by songlin (E, 3,731 w. || Sensory Deprivation, Blindfolds, Anal, Dirty Talk, Forced Orgasm) – Sherlock's never had an orgasm before. John crafts a solution. "I forgot how badly I wanted to fuck your mind.”

The Catherine Wheel by Ghislainem70 (M, 3,762 w., 1 Ch. || Sensory!Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, PWP, Romance) – A Johnlock first time. Sherlock has sensory sensitivity. Can Doctor John Watson help?

Isolation by Nova-chan (T, 9,281 w., 11 Ch. || Drama, Angst) – Sherlock in a sensory deprivation tank.

Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes.

In Absentia by SeaweedWrites (T, 79,273 w., 39 Ch. || TRF Divergence, Major Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Realism, Car Accident, Traumatic Brain Injury, Hospital, Sherlock in a Coma, Physical/Psychological Rehab, Sensory Issues, Heavy Angst, Drama, Sherlock Whump, Biog Brother Mycroft, Depression, Nightmares, Panic Attacks) – Sherlock sends John a mysterious text. While John waits for Sherlock to come back to 221B to explain, Sherlock is involved in a terrible car crash, and everyone's lives are irrecoverably changed. Will Sherlock survive? And the bigger question for John- If he does survive, will he ever be the same? Part 1 of the In Absentia Fics and Information

Sensory Science by sussexbound (E, 80,017 w., 24 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, ASMR, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, John’s PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Drinking Problems, Nightmares, Depression, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage/Orgasm, Phone Sex, Frottage, Coming Untouched, BJ’s, Rimming) – John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend. One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

Periodic Tales Series by 7PercentSolution (T/NR, 253,510+ w. across 18 works | Series WiP || Autistic Sherlock, Sensory Processing Disorder, Case Fics, Chemistry, Kidlock, Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues) – Lots of science, lots of case fic! This is Sherlock as chemist, using the periodic table of elements for many different reasons. Each story is centred around one particular element, in two parts. One focuses on aspects of Sherlock's childhood and events in his life; the other part shows how that has influenced his abilities as the world's only consulting detective, demonstrated through a case fic that shows off his deducing skills. The stories are not long (1-5 parts in length) and are in more or less chronological order in terms of Sherlock's life.

Unwind Series by illwick (E, 697,027+ w. across 33 fics || Light BDSM / Power Dynamics, Dom!John/Sub!Sherlock, Switchlock, Hair-Pulling, Snsory Deprivation, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Forced Orgasm, Prostate Milking / Massage, Rough Sex, Biting, Food Sex, Consensual Kink, Sex on Everything, Chair Bondage, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Oral/Anal, Fingering, Sex Toys, Captain John, Establish Relationship, Bratty Sherlock, Greedy Sherlock, Military Kink, Uniform Kink, Gunplay, Roleplay, Shower Sex, Oral Fixation, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Facials, Dog Tags, Edgeplay, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Threesomes, Homophobia, Size Kink, Past Relationships, Past Drug Use, Double Penetration, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Panties) – John and Sherlock unwind after a case.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #overstimulation fics #sensory fics #to read #my fic recs #thatonetransmasc

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mortalkombat4 · 4 years ago

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nah i’m still not over this lol

imagine going into someone’s inbox unprompted and asking them exactly how many mental illnesses they’ve been diagnosed with and if they have meds for them...and the reason for that being that you, someone who doesn’t know shit or fuck about the person you’re talking about, has deduced that they simply mention having Too Many Mental Illnesses and you need to find out whether or not they’re real

like there’s so much wrong with that. 1) while self diagnosis is rampant and semi-often incorrect on this website, there are valid reasons why someone would self diagnose. not being able to afford treatment or not being in a position where you feel safe getting treatment shouldn’t expel someone from a community of people who have the same problems with them, it shouldn’t keep them from commiserating with people struggling similarly to them on the internet

2) if you put aside the self diagnosis issue, the bottom line here is you don’t know me. you do not know what diagnoses i have or don’t have, and it Shouldn’t Matter To You if some rando on the internet is talking about having multiple mental illnesses

3) im not even sure where you’re getting the idea that i have some ~entire encyclopedia of mental illnesses~. i only really talk about two on here: ptsd and adhd. i mean you already don’t know what you’re talking about bc in the original ask you listed rsd as it’s own mental illness (it’s not, it’s a symptom of adhd). and even if i did talk about having a lot of mental illnesses? what a shitty thing to say! lmao would you go up to someone with multiple physical disabilities and be like “i’m just so worried about how you’re functioning with your whole encyclopedia of disabilities!” NO! that would be shitty!

4) you assumed i was in medicated and untreated. once again: you don’t know me. what the fuck bro

5) i do not fill up my whole blog talking about my mental illnesses. i have made 3 posts in the last 6 days regarding mental illness: one non-negative adhd post, one reblog about rsd, and one reblog about ptsd. this is amongst like one or two Hundred other posts. i think what you need to examine is why you are so stuck on and obsessed with any discussion i have of my own life experiences on my blog

that’s all lol i just feel like i didn’t have closure on being clear about what a shit thing that was to say! i hope you’ve unfollowed me bc frankly that was gross, stop getting obsessed with the narrative you’ve crafted around people’s lives to the point that you need to try and fact check their diagnoses to them. it’s weirdo behavior

Thanks for the answering the mental illness thing I was just curious bc every other post you’d mention a new one and I was just like ?? Is she collecting them like Pokémon?? Does she think mental illnesses are just adjectives?? What??

Anyways, I’m glad you got out of that whole mess and you’re not having much trouble now. I was genuinely concerned with how you’re managing an entire encyclopedia of illnesses without meds or something lol

thats kinda rude lol

#smfh #not to mention: don’t act like u had good intentions and u were so worried about me #we both know u weren’t u just had a feeling that i was self diagnosing #and it pissed u off bc apparently i live in ur head rent free #so u came into my inbox to check if u were right #juno.txt

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destigmatizedecriminalize · 6 years ago

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I’m an addict and that’s okay

I am a hypocrite. I have been advocating for the rights of others and working to create a strong community, but I have been prejudiced. I assume that my friends, family, and community will judge me- and they might- but I know those that love me will support me.

I have been outspoken about destigmatizing mental health and addiction, but in my fear of projected judgment, I have not been doing my part. In all of my advocating and community work, I have neglected myself- a member of the working class, a woman, a person that suffers from multiple mental health disorders, and an addict.

I knew I was an addict once I learned in seventh-grade health class that having a history of addiction in your family predisposes you to the disease of addiction. I vehemently swore off alcohol and other substances as a teen because I could see the substance abuse in my family. Alcohol abuse is so normalized in my family that it took spending time with other families to realize the extent of the issues on both sides of mine.

I was told to try to develop a healthy relationship with alcohol by introducing it into my life at 19-years-old. I was told that if I continued with my strict straight-edge mentality, I'd likely be more at risk in the future. I know now that was bad advice for me, but I tried drinking and used other substances and after a short time, the warning signs were very present. I had untreated mental health issues and a good deal of PTSD and alcohol became a great medicine for me.

I know there are some people that don't understand addiction and they will fight against any inkling that addiction is a disease or disorder. That is part of the reason I want to come clean. I am an incredibly intelligent woman. I am hardworking to a fault. I am compassionate and I am committed to community service simply because I believe in community. I take care of my physical health- I eat very well and exercise regularly. And I have abused alcohol to the point of self-harm that one may only expect of an old “junkie” under a bridge. (I use that word with the most love).

I will tell you that my brain becomes hijacked when I am in active use. It really reminds me of an infection, the way that my thinking reroutes. It has nothing to do with the strength of a person's will power or their character. If you've used substances but were able to easily stop so you believe everyone should be able to, good for you, but you simply aren’t an addict.

May 22nd is the two-year anniversary of the death of a person that was incredibly dear to me, Max. A person that was also afflicted with addiction and our relationship was codependent because we were not taking care of our mental health. Anyone that's been in a truly codependent relationship knows how it wreaks havoc on your emotions.

After 3 years and a messy breakup, I began to seek a lot more comfort in substances. And much more so after his fatal overdose. He and I had reconnected after some time apart. I was in a period of abstinence without actually working on recovery and he was using heavily. I reached out and tried to help him in every way outside of rehab or mental health intervention. He succeeded in getting clean for a little bit but relapsed pretty soon after in early 2017. His addict behavior was triggering to me so I cut him off in early May of 2017. Then, about a week or so later, I spent my work day in agony after reading a Facebook post by his sister. I thought the post must have been a joke, so I texted him and called with no answer. I told him “I'm coming to your parents' house after work if you don't say something.” And that's what I did and from his parents, I learned the painful truth of his death.

I let my addiction get the better of me in my time of weakness. I felt guilt for cutting him off, I couldn't stop thinking about the day that I watched him walk through town with a known drug user and I said nothing. I blamed myself and my actions during our relationship for his harder drug use when we were no longer together. And through this, I was still under the impression that my mental health was not a priority because it is so stigmatized.

My facade was crumbling. I started to receive concerned words from friends and family but I always found a way to convince people I was fine. But I wasn't fine. I struggled for the year following his death and finally realized that I couldn't overcome my addiction alone. I began to attend outpatient rehab. Its been around 8 months and I can finally see some light in my life.

One day, in my group, I was selected to be the subject of an exercise. I was blindfolded and told to walk an obstacle course. The women in the group were not allowed to help me unless I asked for help. I proceeded to stubbornly walk the line, tripping and hesitating but eventually finished on my own. When I removed my blindfold one of the women was crying. She was moved to tears by the fact that I was surrounded by support to guide me but I chose to stumble through. It reminded her so much of her struggle with addiction.

Another woman in the group grew emotional. She is a bit older than me and I view her as a bit of a mentor. She said that she saw herself in me and she prayed that I ask for help now before things get even worse. She explained the progression of her illness and how long it took her to ask for the support she needed. I never expected those reactions to stem from a small exercise.

That weekend, a family was throwing away the last of the belongings of their son that passed away. I retrieved items from the dumpster and pieced together the man's life. Through the books he read and his possessions, I deduced that he was likely a peer of mine. I slowly pieced together that he probably died of an overdose. When I finally found a pill bottle with his name it was clear- he was a person that I knew that overdosed in the fall.

After that emotional group exercise, a wave of reality rushed over me- the utter fragility and impermanence of our existence. My life can be boiled down to my unwanted possessions in a landfill, dumped by sad loved ones. We live this entire life only to become a ghost that exists in the items that we once possessed- a ghost that our loved ones have to encounter every time that they step into the places we occupied or when they swipe dust from our items on a shelf.

If anything can come of sharing the truth about my addiction and mental health, maybe it will simply help me better connect with the friends and family that I've neglected or abandoned in my darkest times. Maybe it will help someone to overcome the shame attached to addiction and mental health and seek some kind of help for themselves. Either way, this is an important step that I need to take in my recovery.

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