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petertingle-yipyip · 6 days

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

seven - bad idea, right?

six // finale // masterlist

Pairing: frank x exodus

Word Count: 6,754

Summary: Beaten but unbroken, Y/N manages to uncover a truth that keeps Frank from falling off a precipice. But as a result, she ends up caught.

You were screaming. Armed officers had escorted you and Frank out of the room and they kept yanking on your arm, pulling you away from Frank. You jerked in their holds, kicking and screaming and throwing every curse word in every language you had. You didn’t care that it made your wound leak blood. You didn’t care how it hurt.

“He didn’t do this! He didn’t hurt me! Let me go! Let me go!” You kept screaming, kept thrashing, until finally one of their grips faltered. The officer made an exclamation about the blood on your arm but you didn’t care.

You hurried to the gurney they were putting Frank on. The adrenaline must’ve crashed and all of his injuries were catching up to him. Yours were threatening to take you down as well, but you pushed through, using all your strength to keep your eyes open. Hands were on your arms again and you yanked hard. Your elbow smacked the railing while an exasperated sigh sounded from behind you. You refused to look, refused to budge, refused to speak. Instead, you took Frank’s hand in yours and willed him to live.

Paramedics talked around you while they loaded Frank. You tried to go with him but a stern hand on your shoulder stopped you. Your head snapped, rage now simmering in your tear-filled eyes, but you knew there was nothing intimidating about a woman crying her eyes out. Brett sighed deeply and gave you a once over. He motioned one of the medics over, said something that you couldn’t focus on, and stepped aside to let you up. You nodded gratefully and sat at Frank’s side.

The paramedic he had talked to came to your side and asked you a question. It didn’t register so when you didn’t answer, she pointed to the various injuries. You simply nodded, allowing her to reposition your body to whatever would be easiest for her to work with.

“Он не может умереть. Пожалуйста, не позволяйте ему умереть. Не он, не сейчас.” You mumbled, but you weren’t exactly sure how quiet you were. (He can’t die. Please, don’t let him die. Not him, not now.)

Was that what Frank felt when you were dying in his arms at the carousel? When you were bleeding out, staining him with the little you had left? When he begged and cursed and demanded you lived? You felt gutted. You had felt guilty enough in the coming days that you had nearly added another name to the death roll of that cursed attraction, but to now know what it felt like, it was almost enough to make you physically sick.

It was all such a bad idea. Going after Billy. Confronting the man from Ohio on your own. Coming back to New York before you had fully settled your head. You never should’ve gone to see Billy, maybe then he would’ve forgotten about everything between you two.

Everything since had happened aggressively fast.

You arrived at the hospital and were taken to two different rooms. An entire team of E.R. staff flocked to Frank, while you had two nurses. It wasn’t important how many caregivers you had, so long as Frank lived. Quick stitches in various places and replacing the gauze you had already bled through were done while your focus was in the next room.

Please, God, don’t take him.

You were mildly surprised you let the thought come as a prayer. You truly were desperate, to turn to an entity that had turned His back on you and, despite having several chances to take Frank, didn’t seem to want him.

Hopefully you don’t want him this time either.

You were so lost in your prayers that you didn’t realize Brett was standing in front of you. Your nurses were long gone, but a prescription for antibiotics was in your hands.

“What?” Your brows furrowed as the hospital around you came back into focus.

“I just need a quick statement.” He repeated but there was something hesitant in his expression, like he knew you weren’t all there.

Clearly.

“Statement?” It was your turn to parrot. “No. No, there is no statement to give.”

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“I need Matt or Foggy before I do that.” You shook your head. You folded the paper and tucked it into the waistband of your skirt. “Call my lawyers.”

“You're not under arrest.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

“Just tell me what you two were doing there.” Brett tried instead. “He was pointing a gun at you, Y/N, but you still want me to believe he’s not the bad guy?”

That seemed to reel you back to reality. The sting of your wounds started to nag at you at the same time.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me.”

“Like he shot those other women?”

“No, something wasn’t right about that.” You confessed. “They shouldn’t have… Frank was looking for Russo.”

“And you?”

“Also looking for Russo.” You nodded.

Brett scoffed slightly but you noticed he didn’t have anything to take down your statement. That conversation wasn’t supposed to be happening, not like that at least.

“Good way to get yourself killed.” He nagged and you refrained from rolling your eyes. “Seems a habit with you.”

“Yeah, well, God doesn’t want me and neither does the Devil.” You shrugged. “Hopefully they don’t want him either.”

“You can’t save this guy, alright? Whatever you think you owe him, you don’t.”

“You weren’t there.” You said flatly but your voice sounded miles away, lost in the memory. “At the carousel. You didn’t see the way Billy looked at me, like I was just something to get rid off. To throw away and not worry about again… But Frank, he wouldn’t leave my side. You may not think I owe him anything but I owe him my life, Brett. How do I repay that?”

“Maybe you don’t.” He shrugged. “Man’s got a rap sheet that can cover the globe. That’s not the kinda guy you need to run around with.”

“You’d be surprised the company I keep.” You pushed off the bed and groaned as your leg buckled slightly, fresh pain throbbing in your stitched wounds.

They’d be healed by morning, whether your body’s doing or yours.

“You shouldn’t go till the doctor discharges you.” Brett tried.

“I’m not gonna sit around and wait for some guy in a coat to tell me I can leave.” You countered. “The nurses did their jobs. They’ll bill my insurance. Everyone still gets paid.”

“Y/N-“

“No.” You said firmly. “You say I don’t owe Frank anything. You don’t owe me anything so stop trying to protect me. I was FBI SWAT and before that, something worse. I’m fine.”

“Okay, clearly you need a concussion eval because there’s something going on.” He complained. “Stay put. I’m finding a nurse for you.”

You blew out a sigh and watched him go. Once he disappeared down a hallway, you left. You wandered the emergency area, peeking into rooms until you found Frank. You couldn’t and it made a hole in your gut. You cursed yourself and then found a small collection of nurses, muttering about having treated the Punisher and how they were glad he had moved to another unit.

You found your way to the hospital gift shop and were able to get a clean shirt and shorts. The lady at the register, after her eyes flicked to every stitched wound and shadowed bruise she could see, said she would add it to your existing bill. She reached over to scan the bracelet and sent you on your way. You changed in the closest bathroom and decided to take the long walk to your apartment.

When you got there, you took a warm shower. You felt the remaining blood washing away, soaked your hair and scrubbed it firmly. You wanted to stay in the water, to pretend there was no war against Billy outside your apartment. Pretend the man from Ohio wasn’t hunting you as well. Pretend there wasn’t a terrified teenage girl counting on you. But you knew that your apartment wouldn’t be safe forever.

So you got out, finished getting ready, brought yourself to tears forcing the slashes to heal, slipped the stitches that were still wet with blood, and left. You wore a short sleeve compression shirt with your vest over it. You hid it all under a loose fitting button up and blazer. You clipped the badge to your waistband on one side and slipped your gun into the back of your belt. You slipped a small switchblade into your pocket and grabbed your purse before returning to the hospital, almost as a whole new woman.

“Sorry, ma’am.” The posted officer said easily, stepping in front to block your path. “Hospital staff and police only.”

“I’m with Nelson and Murdock, Castle’s legal team.” You countered and went to pass. He stepped in front again and your head cocked in annoyance. “What do you want, my Bar license? I have a right to see my client.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “Strict orders.”

“Hmm.” You nodded, tongue pushed against your cheek. Your eyes flicked to the name pinned to his chest. “How about now, Officer Smith?” You shifted your blazer to show your FBI badge.

“I could also pull out the Sixth Amendment from the Bill of Rights. Neither my bureau nor your precinct can deny a person legal representation. Due process and all, but hey, this is great grounds for a mistrial.” You continued, a shrug of your own. “Or I could just have your badge now. Your choice.”

“Alright, just go.” He groaned and waved you on. As you passed, he muttered something about the second ‘know-it-all bitch’ to come for Castle.

Karen beat you to it then.

When you stepped inside, Karen was sitting silently in the closest chair.

“Y/N…” She gasped and sat a little straighter.

You were suddenly thankful you had taken care of yourself before you came.

“It’s good to finally see you.” She continued.

“Right, well, things have been busy.” You nodded and went to Frank’s other side. You slid off your blazer and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m just glad he’s alive.”

“Well what about you? Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Does um- Does Matt or Foggy know you’re back?”

“They saw the news about the ReadyQuick check place.”

“I know they’d love to-“

“I didn’t come back for a reunion, Karen.” You sighed.

It wasn’t fair to be mean to Karen. You knew that and you knew you should apologize. There was too much going on that she didn’t know that had your focus. Amy. Billy. Frank. The man from Ohio. The bounty on you all. There were pieces that you weren’t even sure how or if they fit anymore. Dinah. Dr. Dumont. Curtis. Your mind was too busy, too locked in on your mission, to worry about pleasantries.

“I came back because he needed me.” You looked at Frank. “Because he and…”

You knew Karen was trustworthy. She had kept your secrets until she physically couldn’t anymore. She kept Matt’s secret, even in his alleged death. She kept Frank’s in his. But telling her about Amy felt more vulnerable than anything. Instead, you trained your eyes on the cuffs around Frank’s wrist. You wondered if the pins in your hair would be enough to trigger the pins and release them.

“Y/N, what the hell happened?” She asked and the fear in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. “I saw the news.”

“Billy.”

“Did he… Did he see you two coming?”

“Don’t.” You sighed.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t get involved this time. Look at what it did to him, and you don’t even know what it did to me.”

“She’s right.” Frank murmured and you felt the relief roll through you. He wouldn’t look at her, barely even looked at you. “Walk away, Karen.”

“What? You two think you can scare me off that easy?”

“It’s not about scaring you.” You sighed. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

“I don’t think you want me to go.” She shook her head and stood.

You sighed and got to your feet. You angled your body so you could face them both and you kept a hand on the side rail.

“It’s a tough situation.” She continued and you raised a brow. “But nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We just have to figure out what to do about it.”

“What to…” Your brows furrowed and you took a few tentative steps forward. Karen shifted but didn’t move. “Karen, we don’t do anything. You think there’s a firm in this country that can do anything? We’re fucked on that front.”

“I did it.” Frank said quietly.

“Shut up.” You said sharply.

“I killed three women.”

“Shut up!”

“Why?” He scoffed and you turned quickly. “You’re not gonna fix this. Neither of you are. What you’re both gonna do is turn around and walk out that damned door, alright? You’re gonna get as far away from this and from me as you can.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me to go.” You threatened. “I dare you. I’m not leaving until you actually have the audacity to pull the trigger on me.”

Karen went back to her seat and took a gentler approach. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“It should.” He said quietly.

“It doesn’t.”

Was that what you and Matt looked like, when you were practically begging for him to hate you for what you’d done? You could remember the way his expression shifted everytime you brought up the blood on your hands. He had cringed, not at what you had done but at what you thought you were. He never thought you the villain and you would never understand what you had done to deserve that. Something in a past life, maybe, but when you stood and watched Frank bully himself for something you weren’t convinced happened, you knew he deserved that same treatment.

You didn’t see bad in Frank. He had done admittedly bad things, illegal things, but you were no better. Call it whatever name, you and Frank were still soldiers, trained to fight whatever war found you. This wasn’t one you’d let him fight alone.

You all sat in silence for a little while. You played the scene of that night over and over, trying to picture the wounds on the women, but so much had happened so fast. You hadn’t gotten a good enough look. You couldn’t say for absolute where the bullets came from but you were willing to bet it had nothing to do with Frank. It was something Billy did. You were sure of it. But how the hell were you going to prove it?

After a long while of silence while Frank tried to sleep off his injuries some more, Karen spoke.

“What about you?” She asked carefully.

“What about me?” You replied tightly.

“If this is what happened to him, I can only guess how you were hurt.”

“Few slashes, bullet graze, more bruises than anything.” You shrugged and thought of the deep purples and blues that covered your body from your fight against the Ohio man. You wondered how much was still there. “I wasn’t wearing anything so he made sure to take the brunt of it. Most of it just hurts from before.”

She nodded and you could see she wasn’t sure how to segway into what she wanted to talk about.

“There’s a reason I haven’t seen anyone.” You said plainly. “This fight with Billy and-“ You shook your head. “It’s too much to risk to see them.”

“Would they make that choice?”

“I know Matt would, and he’d also agree that Foggy doesn’t need to be dragged into this either. You’re the only one insisting.”

After that, you went to get a coffee from the cafeteria. You had to argue your way back into the room when a new officer was posted, but the flash of your badge and your ID let you through. When you got back to the room, you stayed out of sight for a moment while you listened.

Frank was awake, telling the full story of the carousel. He mentioned the way his kids looked at him and you could hear the pain in his voice, feel it crawling under your skin and freezing your veins. You shivered and the warm drink in your hand felt as if you had pulled it from the fridge.

The blue fog in the room was growing thicker with every word, making it harder for you to breathe. Tears you hadn’t realized were building fell down your cheeks and you had to take a few shaky, labored breaths before you managed to find control of yourself and your powers. You knew you were growing more tired and in turn, your abilities were more sensitive, but you’d expected to break down over your inability to be done with Billy, not the Castle family’s tragedy.

You came fully into the room and wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. You set the coffee on the far table and sniffled slightly. Karen looked at you with her own tears forming and Frank’s eyes were glassy as well. You knew there was nothing to say about his family so you didn’t. While you were thinking of something, anything, to try to explain your theory, the door opened and a nurse’s cart was pushed in.

Your head snapped and your hand went for the switchblade. As your fingers found the metal, the “nurse” turned out to be Amy. Frank grumbled in annoyance and you laughed in relief.

“Thank God.” She sighed with a smile and you smiled back, but then her suspicious eyes latched onto Karen. It almost made you laugh. “Who are you?”

“Easy, killer.” You teased.

“I’m Karen Page and I’m guessing you’re not a nurse. Who are you?” Karen answered, taking a defensive stance in front of Frank.

“Nobody. She’s nobody.” Frank answered.

“Hey.” You snapped and glared at Frank, who purposefully looked away from everyone.

“Yeah, I’m the nobody that came to get you out.” Amy answered and went to the cuffs opposite of Karen. You shook your head with a small, amused smile before following behind her and staying at her side.

She fiddled with the locks before Frank tried to snatch his arm away. You grabbed his wrist purposefully and sent a flare of anger towards your palm, enough that he groaned and offered you a glare of his own. Amy explained to Karen the bounty on all of you when Dinah Madani walked in.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered, turning to the woman and crossing your arms.

“Gang’s all here.” She said in greeting.

“What do you want, Dinah?” You asked sharply while Frank insisted on Amy being taken away and protected.

Karen and Dinah went back and forth about the situation and Amy. You didn’t intend on stepping in, given both women had a right to be annoyed with so much that they didn’t know, but a snide comment about Amy’s sticky fingers made you.

“Okay, you know what.” You commented loudly. “She may be a little klepto, but if you’ve got a problem with anyone in this room, you can take it up with me. You don’t get to sit on a high horse anymore, got it?”

“You really wanna do this now, Y/L/N?”

“You say that like I need backup to knock you on your ass.”

“Not like you fair well without it.”

“Look at that.” You smirked. “All it takes is you getting shot in the head and a skeleton out the closet for you to grow a backbone. Tell me, again. Who was the one that actually drew blood from Russo?”

“Enough.” Karen tried but that didn’t stop the hand that was already on its way to your pocket. “Why are hitmen after you?”

“It’s a long story.” You snapped, not looking away from Dinah.

“And she’ll tell you when you get her and the kid outta here.” Frank continued and you scoffed. “You know I’m right, Y/N. It’s not safe for any of you to be here.”

“I don’t need safe.” You argued over your shoulder. “What I need is for y-“

“Can’t you just-“ Amy tried loudly. She came around you and stood in between your standoff with Dinah. Hesitantly, you withdrew your hand and took a step back. “Can’t you wave your stupid badge around and get him out?”

“No.” She said firmly.

Amy turned to you, desperation hiding behind her eyes. “Can you?”

“My badge doesn’t mean shit anymore, kiddo.” You answered sadly. “Otherwise I would’ve had everything cleared by now.”

She let out a loud sigh of frustration and went back to fighting with the handcuffs. “Then someone’s gonna need to help me get him out. Otherwise he dies either way, in here or in jail.”

Karen and Amy began muttering a plan when Dinah stepped aside for a call. You watched her for a moment and the tension in her body gave it away. You snapped your fingers to get the conversation behind you to stop and you snatched Dinah’s phone from her hand. You put it on speaker and Billy’s voice came from the other side.

“…no matter how many cops you surround him with. Are you gonna visit him every day?” The broken man taunted. “Like you visited me?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Dinah beat you to it.

“So why don’t you come here, Billy? Join the party?” She asked.

“Can he hear me?”

“Yes.”

“How’s it feel, Frankie? To be locked up in a cage like an animal? To be confined to a room with nothing but your miserable thoughts to comfort you? Nothing temporary about that pain. It’s like a waking death, like you’re burning in hell… Yeah, yeah, you’re your own devil now, Frankie Boy. And you are no better than me.”

Your head cocked in interest. You're no better than me. Why did that matter to Billy, if Frank was or wasn’t, or even if Frank believed he was or wasn’t?

“You done, Bill?” Frank finally spoke. His voice was cold, distant. Miserable, almost.

“No, you. You’re done!” Billy screamed. “And every day you’ll remember that I’m the one that put you there.”

“But you didn’t.” You spoke up, brows knitting as you remembered that night. “The guys you ran with did more damage than you did…”

“There she is.” He sounded almost proud. You hated that he felt he knew you still. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re still at his side. Not like you have anyone else, right? No place in the world. Isn’t that what you said?”

You could feel three pairs of eyes on you. Karen, Dinah, Amy. Frank was still looking at the phone.

“Right.” You agreed tightly. “But you realize that doesn’t bode well for you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Nothing’s stopping me from burying a knife so deep in your chest it’ll come out the other side.” You threatened. “I can put so many bullets in you that no one would recognize what’s being buried. I’m sure you’d want a closed casket anyway, given those nasty scars.”

He laughed dryly and your empty hand clenched into a fist. “When are you gonna give it up, hmm? I win, Y/N. I win.”

“Not yet. Not until I’m dead.”

The call ended after that. You handed Dinah her phone without looking at her. Instead, you waited for Frank to meet your eyes. He wouldn’t and all it did was deepen the divide you could feel growing between you two.

Frank was punishing himself for those women, but in your bones, you knew it was wrong. That certainty was seering through you, sharper than you had felt anything before. You tried picturing the scene but everything seemed to be missing pieces. Where were the blood

splatters? Where were the entry wounds? Were the women lying in puddles of blood when you found them?

Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and the certainty shifted to something else, something wild. Trying to piece together the missing facts played into the unpredictability that came with Billy’s return and it tightened around your throat. It constricted your chest until you felt you couldn’t breathe.

You slipped out of the room and away from everyone until you made it outside. You took a deep breath and tried to focus, to see through the blurring scenery around you, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped. You dropped to the nearest bench and bent over, putting your head between your knees.

Your eyes closed and behind your lids, gray wisps danced and teased you by creating the outlines of the dead women. If you were alone, you would’ve screamed. Instead, you forced all of it down to your palms. It stuck to the circular scar on your wrist instead. Your other hand grabbed it as you righted yourself and leaned against the building.

Your scar seemed to pulse with the intense emotions but you didn’t know what to do with them. You could turn it to anger but what would you burn? Sadness but what would you cool? Fear but what would the bitter taste change? You let go of your wrist and looked down at it in defeat. Beneath your skin, you saw the rolling waves of gray moving like water. It made you shiver.

“Everything okay?” Karen asked. Your head snapped up and your friend was looking at you with concern in your eyes and Dinah in tow. “You snuck out.”

“Just needed to think.” You shrugged as each woman took a seat on either side of you. “Something’s not right about this.”

“Yeah..”

“Why would it matter to be better than Frank?”

“It’s a game, Y/L/N.” Dinah said firmly. “You know Billy just wants to get back at you and Frank so he’s messing with your head.”

“I can’t stop thinking that it was all planned.” You continued. “The women at Valhalla get escorted out the main room. Why were they in that office? And why did Billy lead Frank there? If he didn’t have the women leave, he would’ve known they were there.”

“There’s a lot about the crime scene that doesn’t add up…” Dinah agreed.

“And Billy calling like that. It means something, right?” Karen looked to you.

“I think so.” You nodded. “If I had just looked closer at their bodies…”

“It’s Mahoney’s case.” Dinah added. “He’s not gonna let either of us in close enough. I know I wouldn’t if it were the other way around.”

“If there is even the slightest chance that Frank didn’t do this, we have to check it out.” Karen urged. “C’mon, Y/N/N, you owe him that much.”

There it was again. Someone saying you owed Frank something. You weren’t really sure if you did or didn’t when it came down to it. Sure, he could’ve killed you when you first met, but it was in his best interest not to. He could’ve let you die at the carousel, but he fought tooth and nail for you to live because it was his vendetta too. He could’ve left you at Valhalla, but he took the beating so you didn’t have to because it was his unfinished business. Yet every time, the first priority seemed to be your wellbeing. Your survival.

“Dinah, you talked to his psych.” You turned to her. “What did you talk about?”

“Just that to understand one you had to understand the other.” She shrugged. “We talked about their differences and how Frank was better than Billy because-“

“You’re no better than me. That’s what Billy said on the phone.” You pointed out firmly. “She knows where he stays and she still talks to him. You gave her exactly what Billy needed.”

“What are you saying?” Karen asked.

“It’s the center of gravity approach. You don’t attack someone directly but you go after what’s most important to them. For Frank, his code. For me…” You rubbed the tattoo at the back of your neck. “It’s the same tactic Fisk used against me. It’s something I used for years. It works, clearly.”

“Frank seemed pretty sure back there.” Dinah countered.

“But it doesn’t feel right.”

“Besides, you know you can’t accuse Krista of aiding and abetting or collusion without proof.”

“You’re on a first name basis now?” You accused and she sighed slightly.

“What if I can get us in the morgue?” Karen offered. “To take a look at the bodies.”

Your brows furrowed for a second before you nodded quietly. She returned the gesture and you both looked to Dinah. Her eyes went between you two in confusion before she sighed and agreed with her own nod. After a moment, you all followed Karen.

She took you to the morgue and introduced you - as FBI Special Agent Y/L/N - to the man at the desk, Ed. You smiled politely and shook his hand, but you were distracted by the man’s lack of shoes. Karen began to convince the man but he was still hesitant.

Before you could work magic of your own, Karen agreed to some unspoken request. You quirked a brow at the man’s giddy response but opted to stay quiet, if only to ensure you didn’t ruin anything. She turned and offered you a tight, uncomfortable smile, and you found some relief in knowing that what she had agreed to was a last ditch effort. You nodded and Ed guided you three to the bodies.

He gave a quick rundown but you tuned his words out. Everything inside the small room seemed to buzz, filling your head with an expectancy that manifested as pressure. No taste, no tingle, no colored mist. Just suffocating, engulfing pressure that felt like it would break through your ribs if you breathed too deeply.

Karen’s voice cut through the buzzing but the words didn’t make it to your ears. You dared to lean in closer, gently prodding near the bullet wounds. Ed reached out to stop you but you batted his hands away. As you palpated the dead woman’s stomach, you felt a twist of nausea. This was still a person, after all. You shook your head slightly and willed yourself to focus, to see past the lost life and find the evidence you needed.

“Gun powder.” You muttered.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice came to you like the ringing of a church bell and you almost winced at the sudden clarity. “The grains of it on her skin means she was hit at close range. Any of these would’ve been fatal.”

“But Castle wasn’t…” You trailed off, gently pining your arms back to your side. “What about the trajectory?”

“Exit wound was straight out, parallel to the ground. Someone stood right in front of this girl and unloaded right into her.”

“And that’s the same with all three?” Dinah asked. Another voice too loud. This time your head cocked and you winced mildly.

“Yeah.”

You pressed your lips together into a tight line to keep the relieved laugh down. You nodded in thanks to Ed before gesturing for Dinah and Karen to cross the room with you.

“Those women were executed.” You said quietly. “Frank didn’t do this.”

“Well, is this enough to convince him?” Karen asked.

“It’d hold up in court.” You nodded. “It has to.”

You and your friends tried to leave but Ed blocked the doorway. He kept his eyes downward, at your feet. You rolled your eyes slightly and had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. He just might like it. He was rambling about some no-so-nice nickname but you simply shoved past him with a quiet apology. You assumed Dinah was quickly behind you but you didn’t look back to see if Karen was with you or holding up whatever bargain she struck with Ed.

You nodded to the few workers on the floor, but you passed the officer that had been posted at the door. He told you about the shift change and to show your Bar ID to the new guy. You didn’t show it, but that feeling of something out of place settled in your stomach. You moved a little faster but the shouts from Frank’s room drove you to a full-on sprint.

You brandished your switchblade as you came up to the door. You threw your shoulder against the man that had Amy pinned to the ground and you two tumbled a few feet before knocking into the wall. You heard Amy’s coughs as she scrambled to her feet, Dinah and Karen talking over each other, Frank shouting for the man to go back to him. You were stuck under the faux officer’s weight and he kept a firm grip of the wrist for the hand holding the switch. You winced as his finger dug into the scar but your free hand scratched at his throat.

Deep red lines followed the path of your nails and he cried out, jerking his head to get away from your reach. His other hand pushed down on your throat and for a second, you were hit with the memory of a fight that felt like a lifetime again. Pinned under a fake officer, hands at your throat, all for someone that was the game changer you needed. Only there was no Man in the Mask coming to your rescue.

You blinked away the memory and turned your head to find your small knife. You wiggled it around in your fingers until you were able to change the angle of your blade. You watched the tip press against his wrist and you jerked your hand, shoving the sharp metal through his skin and bone. The very tip poked out the other side and the man cried out wildly. You slammed a knee upward and connected with either his stomach or his groin but his position faltered and you were able to throw him off. You righted yourself quickly and grabbed his head, slamming him to the floor until he fell unconscious.

“Yeah, thanks for the help.” You wheezed, glaring at Dinah.

Amy kicked the unconscious man with a made up not-quite curse word and you laughed breathlessly. After that, she fell against you and you wrapped one arm around her shoulders while the other hand rubbed your throat.

“What was that, huh?” Amy stepped away and yelled. Your brows raised at the outburst but you said nothing. “You were just gonna let him kill you?”

“What the hell, Frank?” You added, a rasp still in your voice.

“Frank, you didn’t do it.” Karen explained quickly.

“What are you talking about?” He asked tightly, but you didn’t miss that underlying hope.

“They were dead before you got there.” Dinah added.

Frank turned to you for confirmation.

“Exit wounds were straight through. Gunpowder still on their skin.” You nodded.

“But I- We were…”

“I know.” You urged. “It was a setup. I can’t prove this but I know Billy killed them. I thought those ladies were being escorted out before I met with you but they were walked to their executions.”

“You sure about that?” Frank finally met your eyes and the suffocating grip deep in your chest loosened enough for a full breath.

“He wanted to break you. He wanted to take away what mattered most to you and he damn near did.”

“You’re not the monster, Frank.” Karen added gently. “You never were.”

“This is great and all but what is that gonna for us right now?” Amy asked tensely. “That was a cop that just tried to kill him! What’s next, a nurse?”

At that point, everyone began talking over each other. Frank wanted out of the cuffs to kill the cop. Dinah was calling him an idiot. Karen wanted a plan. Amy was looking between everyone like a deer in headlights.

“Just shut up!” You shouted. You saw the white wave roll out of your chest and hit everyone in the room and you immediately regretted the lapse of control. Your power took hold of all four people and settled them to an eerie level of calmness. “Sorry.” You muttered when the glassy look left their eyes and they were in control of themselves again.

“What the hell?” Amy mumbled.

“Give us the room.” You told Amy and Dinah. “Just a minute, okay?”

Hesitantly, they left so you and Karen were the only ones in the room.

“Does that Matt Murdock know you’re here?” Frank asked Karen.

She looked to you and you gave a small shake of your head. Of course Matt didn’t know where you were, just the vague idea that you were in town and stuck in the middle of a dangerous war.

“What does that have to do with this?” She answered. “Come on, Karen.” He sighed. “He’s good. Don’t throw that away for me, either of you.”

“Matt trusts me to make my own choices as to what fight I’m in.” You said sharply as Karen undid the cuffs. “I expected you to do the same.”

“And it killed you last time, didn’t it?” He spat back before focusing back on Karen. “Walk away, Karen.”

She said nothing.

“Look, I know you both.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “You’re brave. You’re strong. But you’re both so goddamned stubborn that you will throw everything away for me and I cannot let that happen.”

You took a step forward but Karen reached for your arm.

“So they can risk everything but not me?” She said then gestured to you. “Not her?”

“Don’t do that, okay? That kid needs me to stay alive. Madani, she’s as batshit and lost as I am. And Y/N?” He locked eyes with you. “Billy beat her so bad her heart stopped. He gets the chance again, no one’s gonna be able to restart it.”

“Да пошла ты.” You spat. (Fuck you.)

Karen continued trying to reason with him but you put your hands up in defeat, letting them fall back against your legs. You began pacing while they talked, registering their voices but not their words. You looked down and noticed she was barefoot, Was that what she agreed upon with Ed? Her shoes.

No wonder they called him Creepy Ed.

“I gotta walk outta here and you can’t do it with me.” Frank said quietly and when you looked back, he was standing a few inches from Karen.

You wanted to give both of them the push they needed, to admit that unspoken thing between them and finally break the tension, but it also felt wrong to do it to friends. You had no problem in college playing up on a new couple’s emotions. Back then it was like your special version of people watching, but it just felt like crossing a line to do it to them. Luckily, the door opened before your power could start reaching.

Karen left first, offering you one questioning look. All you could do was nod. You retrieved your switchblade and wiped it on the officer’s uniform before you tucked it back into your pocket, replacing your blazer to hide your gun. You helped Dinah get Frank to the stairwell while Amy played her role as a nurse to blend into the crowd. Dinah split from you at the base of the stairs and you kept with Frank.

He leaned heavily on you and you were just outside the hospital when Brett cut you off. You cursed quietly while he yelled instructions to drop your weapons. You released Frank so he could drop the cop’s belt and you put your hands up in surrender, slipping your fingers to pull two pins from your hair. The small pieces of metal dropped down either sleeve just before Brett snatched one of your wrists. As he pulled your arms down and behind your back, the pins slid out and landed in your palms. You slipped the thin metal into the latch for the cuffs so they didn’t quite lock while he was muttering about obstruction and how it was only a matter of time before he had to cuff you.

He locked Frank’s other cuff around one of the handrails in the back before he shoved you inside. Frank met your eyes with an apologetic expression but you smiled.

You hadn’t lost quite yet.

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

Changes pt 4 - Scott McCall x Reader

Pairing: Scott x Reader

Prompt: None!~ Just came to me brahh pt 4 (not sure how I feel about this pt though)

Warning: NONE!

ENJOY!!

*****

You sat down on the bleachers with Melissa, Sheriff, Chris, Derek Ethan, Mason and Lydia. The rest of the pack had been busy or were the ones playing. Chris was holding Melissa’s hand as he looked at the sheriff with a raised eyebrow. You frowned but chose not to say anything as you turned back to the field.

The whistle blew, Stiles managed to get the ball which caused your head to snap to Derek in shock. He didn’t even register your stare he was just grinning at the field which, caused you to look at the Sheriff with a curious gaze. The Sheriff had yet to notice Derek was staring at Stiles with goo goo eyes so you shrugged and got back to the game.

About 20 minutes into the game Liam went down in a rather violent fashion. You shot out your seat and stared at Brett who was grinning down at Liam liked he’d achieved something.

“BRETT!” His eyes shot to you, as you quickly made your way over to Liam with a frown.

“Oh when I get a hold of you. YOU’RE DEAD!” Brett made an extremely unmanly noise as he jogged over to his other team mates.

You bent down to check on Liam, but when he looked up at you he shot you a grin further confusing you. Liam looked off to one side then looked back at you causing you to look up and frown.

There stood most of the lacrosse players turned with their back to you in a line. You looked at the first one but before you could get further they turned round one by one and there stood an entire Lacrosse team holding letters that spelt out. ‘Will you got out with me?’ The words sounded childish but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. You looked up to see Mason holding a yes and Ethan holding a no. You raised an eyebrow at them earning a grin from Mason and a frown from Ethan. You walked to Ethan and pinched his cheek roughly.

“As cute as you are Ethan I’m gonna have to go with my Little Mason.” You muttered cheekily causing him to smile at you.

“YOU HEAR THAT MCCALL?” You screamed into the field and suddenly a little head popped out from in between the lacrosse players. You had a satisfied dopey grin on his face as he ran over to you.

“Yes, I heard!” He exclaimed happily as he picked you up and swung you around. His laugh was contagious soon you were laughing to. When he placed you down he stared into your eyes only to be very quickly disrupted by a very loud Mama McCall.

“SCOTT MCCALL IF YOU DON’T KISS HER RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA BE SO PISSED!” She screamed making everyone on the bleachers burst out laughing.

“As embarrassing as your mother is I 100% agree with her.” You huffed playfully.

Instead of words, Scott clutched around your waist tightly and leant down, placing a passionate yet soft kiss on your lips. Despite it being your first kiss with Scott it felt like right. Like everything in your world started making sense.

You internally winced at the cheesiness of the thought and current situation, but smiled when you felt Scott smile into the kiss. He pulled back and stared into your eyes lovingly he opened his mouth but never had the chance to saying anything because another loud voice cut through it.

“MCCALL AS MUCH AS THIS WARMS MY COLD DEAD HEART, WE GOTTA LACROSSE GAME TO PLAY!” Coach voiced cockily, earning a snort from you and Scott.

“Could you be more of a cock block coach!?” Stiles screamed sarcastically.

“Was that a rhetorical question Stilinski?!” He yelled back with a serious frown on his face.

You kissed Scott one last time before moving back to the Bleachers with Ethan and Mason. Lydia gave you a thumbs up before turning back to the game.

After the game the whole pack including the parents, met up for a celebratory dinner. You all got seated, Scott sitting at the head of the table with you on his left and Derek on his right. Everyone was chatting happily as they looked at the menus.

Your hand was in Scott’s as his eyes bore into yours. Whenever this boy stared at you it was like you were the only two people in the world. His eyes held more emotion than you’d ever seen in a person. His lopsided grin lit up your entire day and his hands that held yours lit up your entire body. Like a fire was spreading but instead of panicking, you felt at peace. Like it was home.

Eventually everyone ordered, before continuing their conversations. Scott looked at you with a lopsided grin with you return immediately. He squeezed you hand, then turned to Derek who was staring at you and Scott with a smile.

“Deaton said you’d know how we’re supposed to bond.” Derek spats out his drink causing Stiles to flail next to him.

“Der what the fuck!?” Stiles exclaimed earning a look from his father, which Stiles didn’t even register.

“Scott I don’t think we should talk about you two bonding here. Why don’t we talk when we get home?” Derek grumbled as he looked around the table awkwardly.

“Ohh you two don’t know how you have to bond yet?” Stiles asked with a sadistic grin on his face.

“You know?” Scott asked with a frown.

“I did my research.” Stiles responded the evil grin never leaving his face. The hyperactive boy stood up and walked over to Scott before leaning down and whispering in his ear. YOu listened in but honestly…You kinda wished you hadn’t.

“Heart, body and soul that’s that it means to be true mates Scotty boy. I mean…you got the heart down and soul is kinda the whole point of soul mates…next up is…” Stiles whispered trailing off towards the end.

“Ohhhhh okay…Yeeeeah…makes sense. Well that’s not so bad right?” Scott muttered to Stiles before turning to you who was a red as a tomato.

“Y/N? You okay?” Scott asked as Aiden told Lydia what you had to do to form the bond. Suddenly Lydia shot out her seat and jogged over to you with a worried gaze. She dragged you to the bathroom, Erica and Allison soon following. Scott stared at everyone in shock.

“Did I say something stupid again?” He asked quietly, before glancing at the table full of confused frowns.

“Not that I could tell.” Derek answered easily.

In the bathroom however things were not so quiet or calm. You let out a small growl of frustration and you tugged at your hair roughly.

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as you paced the bathroom so fast Lydia’s eyes could barely keep up.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal just bang him then you’re done?” Erica sighed loudly.

“Erica don’t be an ass!” Lydia snapped angrily as she approached you, placing her small hand on top of your shoulder causing it to slump down in defeat.

“I agree with Erica. I don’t see why it’s such a big deal?” Allison asked sweetly, confusion written all over her face.

“Because I’m a fucking virgin!!” You sighed angrily, everyone but Lydia to stopped breathing for a second as they took in your words.

“You need to tell him.” Allison muttered gently, as she gave you a sympathetic look.

“Oh yeah hey Scott I thought I’d let you know your 18 year old true mate is a virgin!” You screeched, your face still bright red.

“I wouldn’t have guessed I mean you ask about the boy’s sex like all the time.” Erica muttered awkwardly.

“I read a lot of gay fanfic okay? Destiel is life!” You huffed childishly before turning to Lydia and speaking.

“Let’s just go back out there and finish this dinner. Right now I just want to go home.” You sighed before turning and exiting the bathroom.

You sat back down noticing your food had arrived. You gave Scott a light smile before digging into your dinner. You huffed as you hair kept falling in your face before remembering you put your hair tie in Scott pocket after the lacrosse game.

“Scott can you pass me my hair tie please?” You muttered quietly but instead of putting the hair tie in you opened hand he stood up.

Standing behind you Scott gently grabbed all your hair before neatening it out with his fingers. After he deemed it good enough her wrapped the hair tie around it a few times. A few of the girls were giggling and whispering about how cute they were which made you smile shyly.

He sat back down with a smile, as he stared at his completed work. He looked so proud of himself as you felt you hair a little before giving him a wide grin letting him know he did good.

After that you remained quiet for the rest of the dinner and when you get home, you head straight to your room without talking to anyone. You needed time to think about how to tell Scott but honestly you were even sure if you should. Maybe it would be better if you just get it over and done with? You heard the girls sigh as they watched you walk upstairs, but when Scott asked they refused to tell him which you were extremely thankful for.

You closed you door and threw yourself onto your bed with a groan of internal conflict. Not two minutes later there was a knock at your door which you knew would be Scott. You muttered an okay refusing to look at him as he came into the room.

“Wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Scott asked patiently as he sat down on your bed his back to you.

“It’s nothing.” You muttered softly, sitting up as you did so.

“It obviously wasn’t nothing.” Scott sighed sadly, turning to you with a worried frown.

“I-I…I may or not have been embarrassed about the whole having sex to bond thing…” You muttered awkwardly before look at your bed sheets.

“Why? It’s only sex baby and you know I’d never hurt you…Well unless you wanted me too.” Scott chuckled as he wiggled his eyebrows at you earning a giggle to erupt from your chest.

“As cute and funny as you are…it’s not just sex to me.” You sighed as your laughing came to a stop.

“Obviously I didn’t mean it like that…It means something to me but I just mean there’s nothing to be scared of.” Scott mumbled a reassuring smile on his face. He leant over to you and stroked your hair before cupping your cheek like he was about to kiss you. Apparently your mouth thought then, was a wise time to state what needed to be stated.

“I’m a virgin.” You squeaked causing Scott to freeze and glance at you with wide eyes.

“Y-You’re a…”

“Virgin…Yes Scott that is what I just said.” You huffed sarcastically.

“W-Wow I didn’t know…” His hand slipped from your cheek as he sat back, eye still wide.

“S-Sorry I didn’t know it wo-Scott the hell do you smell like arousal?” You choked causing him to look up with a blush.

“Well you’ve never been touched…and y-you’re gonna be with me forever…and no one else has ever touched you…and well its kind…sexy.” Scott mumbled so fast you barely caught what he’d said.

“You’re a fucking caveman.” You deadpanned before getting up and leaving your bedroom.

“Y/N!”

“Caveman!” You yelled back as he chased you down the stairs.

“Scott why do you smell like a puppy in heat?” Jackson asked the disgusted looked on his face was priceless.

“Cos he’s a caveman.” You deadpanned causing Peter to snort loudly.

“I am NOT a cave man! Come one baby you know I love you!” Scott whined childishly. You froze and looked up at the nearest person, which was Stiles who was equally as frozen.

“Did he just…” Ethan muttered.

“Oh yeah…He definitely just said it.” Aiden snorted as he tried to hold back his laughter.

You spun around on your heels and scowled at Scott who jumped up to stand straight. His eyes were wide and a little nervous as he waited for his scolding. The sound of Stiles smacking his own hand across his face was something that almost made you smile, as he winced in pain but you kept your scowl in place.

“I swear sometimes Scott, I don’t know whether to kiss you or punch you!” You snapped, angrily crossing your arms.

“I’ll take the latter if I have a choice?” Scott giggled a dopey grin making it way to his face.

“You have the worst timing.” You growled causing his smile to drop and his face to mould into a serious one.

“I know.” He muttered as he lowered his head.

“And you have no common sense.” You huffed the anger still radiating from you.

“I know…” He whispered.

“You also somehow find a way every time, to put yourself in the dog house.” You almost winced at the saying put kept you face angry as you stared down at him.

“I…I know.” You could hear the slight whimper in his voice which Stiles quickly jumped forward but once you growled he backed off.

“But you know what?” You sighed the anger easing away.

“W-What?” Scott asked quietly as he kept his gaze to the floor.

You walked up to him and lifted his chin, almost wincing at the hurt look on his face. You stared into his eyes with seriousness you’d never felt before in your life. Your heart racing at what felt like a thousand miles a minute.

“It’s okay because I love you too.” The last part coming out so soft and lovingly, it caused Scott to tear up. Scott threw his arms around you holding you so tight, that if you weren’t a werewolf you would most likely be bruised tomorrow. You felt the tears soak into your shoulder and instantly you felt bad. You had scared him so much he was crying.

“It’s happy t-tears.” Scott muttered into your shirt as he felt your worry and panic.

“I’m sorry my words were so harsh…” You muttered into his hair.

“I feel like I’m staring in a freakin’ rom com. We’ve become a side couple…babe...we’re like Rizzo and Kenickie.” Stiles looked mortified by this concept as he glanced at Derek who was seriously questioning himself as to why he was dating the younger male.

“Shut up Stiles."

Part 3 <- -> Part 5

#teen wolf #tw #teen wolf imagine #part 4 #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall x you #scott mccall #fluff #reader #reader insert #imagine #teen wolf fluff

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sylkiddsey · 11 months

Text

Say my name and everything just stops

Small scrap sections from a longer work that will never be finished. It acknowledges the shift from “Casey” to “Matt”

1. Late season 6:

It’s kind of like Matt’s engaged in some sort of really serious game of hide and seek, but one person is not really hiding, and the other is somewhat seeking, but also not really.

His marriage has become this game of avoidance where they just keep passing each other. They pass in the halls of the firehouse. They pass in their own home, from room to room. Even in a confined car, it feels like they’re just passing.

He and Gabby are so off kilter. Everything feels unbalanced and it’s driving him crazy. This isn’t the marriage he envisioned, and he doesn’t know how to go back.

He’s well aware they’ve always had problems. They’ve never been perfect, but he had been able to fix it. Usually, that involved him complying and going along with his very independent wife, but he’d done it.

This time, he can’t comply so they’re stuck in this holding pattern while he waits (and also avoids her) for her to do the compromising.

He can’t go along with her plan to have a child, basically without him. She pretty much implied she was going to get pregnant with or without his help which stung. He can’t give her a baby if it means having to raise their child without his wife. That guilt will kill him, so he refuses.

His refusal didn’t kill her plan. Like always, Gabby Dawson found a way around and wants a baby…wants to endure a risky pregnancy and possibly carry some other guy’s child if he won’t do it.

His own wife won’t budge and he’s not going the extra mile to solve this, so they are just passing by.

When he arrives home to the condo, he freezes in his doorway. He was expecting his wife, probably perched on a stool ready to pick another battle. He’s ready for it, but it’s not Gabby in his kitchen.

Brett’s standing at his island, wearing a faded apron he vaguely remembers was gifted to Gabby as a wedding present, mixing bowl and a big wooden spoon in hand.

Her hair is piled up on her head, chocolate smeared on the corner of her mouth, and he assumes Antonio fucked her over again. She’s probably eating her feelings and drinking wine with her best friend, but that’s not the case.

She looks up from her chocolate concoction, blue eyes widening like a cartoon. “Matt, hi. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

He stops dead in his tracks, but not because Brett has apparently broken into his home. He pauses because she called him Matt which she doesn’t do.

It’s not like he has a problem with it, but pretty much everyone at 51 calls him Casey. It’s just become this thing so when Sylvie Brett says it so casually, in his damn kitchen while his marriage crumbles somewhere else…it strikes him.

He’s not even sure she’s ever called him his name before. She might’ve in the past, but it never registered.

He’s only really Matt to his wife and his sister. Although, his wife does use his last name when she’s pissed (which has been happening often).

She finishes swirling the brown batter in one of the big glass bowls Gabby chose. “I know I shouldn’t have used my emergency key, but I wanted to make Gabby her favorite brownies just to…I don’t know, cheer her up. I should’ve asked first.”

He shakes his head, sets his keys on the hook and adverts his gaze because he’s pretty sure he makes her nervous. Brett can’t see him as anybody other than 51’s Captain which he gets. He just doesn’t want her to think he’s so uptight he’d dress her down for being a great friend.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just passing through anyway,” he explains. “I’ll be out of your hair in like ten minutes.”

“It’s your place,” Brett replies. “If someone should leave it should be me.”

He figures Gabby would rather have her friend here instead of him anyway.

“Seriously, I’m heading out the door anyway. Stay. Finish the brownies.”

She smiles a little, sweeping a loose strand of long blonde hair away from her face. “Thanks, Casey.”

Casey.

Everything shifts right back to normal where he’s just Casey, Brett’s just Brett. He’s in his home. The one he shares with someone who shares practically nothing with him and Brett’s doing what she does best; being good to her people.

It’s one thing he has always appreciated about the paramedic. She’s good. She’s good to her patients. She’s good to 51. She’s extraordinarily good to his wife.

He passes her by, ready to change from his construction job and head to Molly’s. He stops in the doorway, observing a flustered Brett as she tries to perfect the homemade frosting. She tastes it with her finger and groans when it’s not good enough.

He knows from Gabby that she’s still a little heartbroken over Antonio and a bit raw from certain ambo calls, yet she’s here…supporting Gabby with sugar and chocolate.

“Brett.”

She startles again, almost as if she’s afraid he’s changed his mind and is mad she’s here. “Uh, yeah?”

“You’re a good friend. She’s lucky to have you,” he says.

Her blue eyes look a little misty in his kitchen lighting. “She’s lucky to have you too.”

He doesn’t think his own wife believes that, but he’s grateful for the words anyway.

The oven timer dings behind her, and she struggles to pull out batch one of her brownie mission. He contemplates offering to help, but his life is currently burning to the ground, so he doesn’t have time to salvage some brownies.

Some things are better left unsalvageable anyway.

2. Early season 7:

He’s on his third or fourth beer at Molly’s. He knows drinking won’t numb the fact he wasn’t good enough for his wife, but it does help a little.

The stool next to his squeaks obnoxiously loud and he hears a quiet gasp. Pink painted nails clamp on the counter and Brett has nearly fallen off the stool.

He wants to laugh, but she looks partially embarrassed…or maybe more ashamed

“I’m sorry, Casey.”

He raises an eyebrow, dumbfounded. She has nothing to apologize for. The last shift had gone well, and he doesn’t even remember scolding her for anything. Hell, he’s not even sure he talked to her at all at the station.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have blamed you for Gabby leaving,” she mutters, pulling at the edge of her sweater sleeve.

That’s a conversation they had weeks ago. He’s completely forgotten about it. She had been blindsided and upset which he absolutely understood. God knows he felt all that with her, so he really didn’t think too much about her minor lash out

“Brett…”

“I was just hurt I guess,” she admits. “And if I felt hurt…I can’t imagine how hurt you were. It was selfish and dumb.

Sylvie Brett and selfish don’t fit in the same sentence. She’s too kind even to her own detriment.

Still, it feels good to have someone recognize how hurt he is. Yes, they all care and pity him, but no one acknowledges how much Gabby hurt him. It might not have been intentional but her constant rejection about what he wants and needs fucking hurts.

“Brett, it’s fine,” he replies. “I get it. I do and honestly, she was always going to chase bigger things. She was always going to leave, and I was always going to stay.”

It sums up majority of his relationship. Gabby was always leaving in some way. She’d leave to pursue a new career, leaving him to stay and deal with the fallout. She’d leave to adopt a child and again, he stayed and followed. She was always leaving him and somehow, he just kept staying.

Brett frowns, looking into her glass. He watches her stir the blue-ish margarita with a toothpick umbrella. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed.”

For the first time in a long time, her words soothe the crippling ache Gabby left behind. It doesn’t completely fix everything, but it feels good to know that he didn’t make the wrong decision by not following her.

At least according to Brett.

“Yeah?”

She nods, a smile passing over her face. Lately he hasn’t seen Brett very happy so it’s good to see a glimmer of their past.

“Honestly, I just can’t imagine what 51 would be like without you, Matt.”

He’s struck by the fact she’s using his name again. It’s odd because he’s been so used to Casey for so long and every once in a while, Brett calls him Matt.

There’s something interesting about the way she says it. The syllables just roll off her (now blue) tongue differently in a way he’s never heard. It feels like two different voices and sounds absolutely nothing like it does on shift, surrounded by firefighters and in between blaring bells.

Wow, maybe he’s had a little too much to drink tonight.

He nudges her arm lightly, thanking her for her kindness. He’s surprised she’s giving it to him of all people, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

Prior, Brett has always been connected to him through association. She was Gabby’s best friend. She was Gabby’s ambo partner. She was Gabby’s brother’s girlfriend.

She’s never been anything to him, but now with Gabby long gone…he thinks maybe Brett won’t be such a stranger anymore.

“God, do you imagine if you left, and Severide became a captain or something?” She asks through a snort.

He has to admit that’s a funny picture. “You’d all be dead because he was too busy making out with Kidd.”

Brett laughs a little too hard at his pitiful joke. He starts to think she might’ve had a few drinks herself. “Oh you are so right, Casey!”

He’s too caught up in the allure of her contagious laugh to analyze the name shift. He’s heard this laugh way too much from his living room or the common room on shift, but this is the first time he’s really taken by it

Sylvie Brett has a wildly adorable laugh. Who knew?

3. 7x08

He starts to appreciate new things he hasn’t had the chance to while married. For one, he has complete freedom of his own life. Every decision is his. Plus, he has more time to spend with 51 and he surprisingly enjoys fishing with Boden of all people.

However, his newest discovery happens to be drunk Sylvie Brett. Brett’s incredibly charming on any day but mix her with alcohol and she somehow becomes more and more dorky.

He has to say he greatly appreciates drunk Brett because it’s hilarious. She can’t hold her liquor and each sentence come out in mangled fragments, but it’s not annoying. Not at all. He actually quite likes Brett when she drinks.

She’s absolutely drunk after Foster pumped her full of alcohol. He’s had the front row seat to her nose scrunch, big doe eyes and flailing hand which had turned his crappy night around.

He’s not even thinking about Naomi or what it could’ve been if he had pretended to be ready.

He had planned to go home a little early but decided to stick around to observe Brett. She’s very drunk and he’s concerned about how she’s going to get home.

Foster left hours ago. Kidd ditched too, probably to make up and make out with Severide. He expected Cruz would take her back, but he disappeared with Chloe and hasn’t returned. Even Otis has vanished.

He makes conversation with Hermann and waits for someone to get her home safely.

At some point during the night, he loses track of her just as Hermann closes. He took his eyes off to help the older man move a shipment of beer and now, she’s gone.

Shit. He hopes she’s not inebriated enough to think she can drive. Although, he’s not sure a taxi or ride share is better when she’s this out of it.

Men are assholes.

Matt hurries out the door, hoping to catch her before she disappears in some sketchy car.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to look far because Brett’s sitting on the bottom step, chin in hand and phone clutched in the other.

She tilts her head up, grinning. “Hey, Casey.”

“Hi. What are you doing out here?”

She points her turned off phone in his face. “Waiting for a cab. I’m just a teeny tiny bit drunk.”

Yeah, just a teeny tiny bit…

Again, he doesn’t want her getting in a car like this where someone could easily try something.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offers, reaching for her hand. He pulls her up, braces her stumbling with his chest and holds one hand on her arm to keep her grounded.

“No. No. You should be calling cute reporter,” she slurs, eyelids drooping lower and lower. She pokes his chest with one slender finger. “Go and make your move, Casey. Girls don’t like waiting.”

Naomi is not his concern at the moment. She’s just a girl he casually kinda sorta dated and Brett’s…well, she’s Brett. She’s an essential part of 51 and far more important than some possible girlfriend.

“She’ll be there in the morning. I’m concerned you won’t be if I don’t get you home myself,” he explains. “You’re drunk, Brett and I don’t trust some taxi driver so let’s go.”

She sticks her bottom lip out. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Lead the way, Captain.”

He steers her by the shoulders so she can’t fall flat on her face towards his truck. When he gets the door open, Brett needs a boost into the seat.

He watches one of the best paramedics he knows fumble with a seatbelt for five minutes, amused. Eventually he gives in to her frustration and does it for her.

Super talkative drunk Sylvie seems to have left for the night. As he navigates down the streets of Chicago, she’s quiet and pressed against the passenger window.

He pulls up in front of the place she shares with Otis and Cruz ten minutes later. He turns his truck off, unlocks the door for Sylvie to jump (or probably fall) out. She doesn’t make a move though, and when he looks over, she’s sleeping against her seatbelt.

He should’ve seen this coming. She drank a lot so of course the alcohol would knock her out.

“Brett?” He asks.

She snores a little in response and he can’t help but chuckle. He stays in the driver side for a few more minutes, thinking of the best way to get her inside.

While thinking, he observes her drunken sleep. Her hair is a mess, tangled against the window. She has mascara rings all around her eyes and cheeks and she’s even drooling a little.

He admires her unkept look. He’s always liked how she’s fearlessly herself and just doesn’t care if it’s well received or not.

It’s a very admirable quality.

Her neck is gonna hurt like hell if she stays in that position much longer. He climbs out his truck and goes to her side. He eases the door open, managing to keep her from tipping out with a hand against her head.

“Brett,” he says, shaking her shoulder a little. “Brett, come on. Wake up.”

She’s dead asleep, nestling further into the hand keeping her head from lolling. He can’t stand all night like this with her face in his palm.

Fine. He’ll carry her in. He undoes her seatbelt and when it clicks, she startles.

The sudden panic vanishes the second she realizes it’s him. She smiles sleepily. “Matt.”

Matt. Not Casey. All evening he’s been Casey aside from when she full named him earlier. Now that she’s drunk and tired, he’s Matt again.

He wonders if it’s purely accidental or if she consciously chooses when to change it up.

“How’d you get here so fast?” She asks, looking around the sidewalk.

“You fell asleep,” he explains. “Come on. Let me get you to your apartment. Can you walk?”

She nods and stumbles out of her seat. He braces her fall, laughing at how ridiculously uncoordinated she is after some tequila.

“Hey! Are you laughing at me?”

He helps her inside the apartment building, pointing her in the direction of the elevator.

“I’ve never seen you like this. It’s wildly entertaining.”

“Well, at least I didn’t accept a proposal this time,” she yawns, leaning her head into his shoulder as they wait for the right floor.

“What?” He asks.

She shrugs as the doors slide open. “A green card thing. I was drunk…didn’t marry him. Long story.”

Sounds like it. They make it to her door, Brett halfway asleep on him. He fishes her key out of her purse and then let’s them inside.

“Casey, hi?” Cruz greets from the kitchen. His eyebrows raise when he sees Brett. “Oh man, I completely forgot.”

He knows Cruz was too focused on his new girlfriend to look out for her, but still. She’s his room dog or whatever they call each other. He shouldn’t have left her alone.

“She needs to go to bed,” he explains, doing his best to pass her off to Cruz. She doesn’t want to leave his side for whatever drunken reason so they both have to get her into her bed.

Once she’s buried under a thousand blankets, he turns to Cruz. “Make sure she drinks a lot of water tomorrow because that hangover is gonna be brutal.”

Cruz laughs. “Drunk Brett might be fun, but hungover Brett is not.”

He can imagine. She’ll definitely be miserable tomorrow.

When he goes to leave, Cruz stops him. “Thank Casey.”

“Yep.”

It’s not like he was going to leave her anyway. He’s just glad she’s home safe.

4. Post 8x09

That night he and Gabby hadn’t just passed by but went straight through. They fell right into familiarity and slept together. She was his wife. She knew him better than anyone. Well, he’s starting to think there’s someone else who understands him better, but he’s not gonna go there.

The night is good, but just not as good as he remembered. He expected that cosmic pull (or whatever) but if anything, something is pushing him further and further from what he thought was his future.

There was a disconnect and when he left, it felt like closure. Gabby’s so happy in Puerto Rico. He’s genuinely glad she’s doing so well for herself, even without him. Plus, he’s happy too in Chicago with 51. His future is here.

Gabby leaves the voicemail about how she always has an opening for him, and the bitterness resurfaces. It’s a nice gesture, but it proves how things will only ever progress if he makes the life changes. They can have another night together if he goes to Puerto Rico.

He has no plans to do that.

Someone knocks on his door at a quarter to eleven. His best guess is Severide forgot his key and he and Kidd got in a fight.

They fight and make up a little too much.

He hauls himself off the couch and opens the door. He expects Severide in the door with a permanent frown and a string of curses. What he doesn’t expect is Brett in his doorway, mini dress on and perfectly applied make up.

She looks amazing. He’s always thought Brett was a cute girl. It’s a fact, but he’s starting to think she’s more than just cute. She’s shockingly hot.

“Hi,” she greets.

Did he black out and ask her on a date something? She’s clearly dressed for the occasion. God knows he’s thought about making a move, but he has no memory of doing it.

Even if he somehow lost his mind and did plan a date, he wouldn’t choose such a late time.

He must look as confused as he feels because she chuckles.

“Sorry. I know it’s late.” She looks down at her tight red dress and then back at him. “I had a date. I don’t usually wear this kinda stuff.”

So, someone else asked her out? He doesn’t remember hearing about anyone new. To his knowledge, Ryan was the last.

“You look…fancy,” he compliments. Other more expressive words are on the tip of his tongue, but he settles for fancy. It’s probably best he doesn’t tell her she looks hot in that dress.

“Late dinner. Completely disastrous dessert. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about my failed attempts at romance.”

He’s not sure why he’s relieved the date didn’t go well. He’ll analyze that later.

“Why are you here?”

He’s still confused about the events that have led to her stunning appearance at his place.

“I was at dinner, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, Matt,” she says so casually as if that’s not a completely loaded confession.

She can’t stand there in a tight red dress and roll his name off her lips like this and expect nothing. She was thinking about him? She was actively thinking about him when she was with a date?

“You…couldn’t stop thinking about me? “

Her eyes widen and she covers her face. “Oh my god. That came out wrong. I don’t mean…geez, I keep doing this.”

His racing heart slows a little because he misinterpreted her words. He thought this was heading in another direction. He thought he wasn’t crazy thinking something might be happening between them.

She brings her hand back down to her side. “I was worried because I know Gabby left today and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Oh.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Really, Brett.”

She eyes him like she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. In hindsight, he didn’t sound very convincing.

“I worry no one checks on you,” she continues. “You’re this steady presence at 51 for everyone else and I just couldn’t stomach the thought of you all alone here blaming yourself.”

He leans in his doorway. Now that’s he is closer, he can smell her addictive perfume. It somehow smells like Christmas and fruit.

“Blaming myself?”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “For not feeling like enough. I can’t pretend to know what went down with Gabby, but I do like to think I know you. I know that she unintentionally hurt you by leaving and now she left again.”

“Brett…”

She edges a little closer and his heart rate quickens again. He’s half convinced she can see his neck pulse thumping from where she’s at.

“If I’m crossing a line here, let me know, but I don’t like the thought of you sitting here thinking you somehow failed,” she rambles.

He swallows, breathing in deep because she’s definitely doing something new to him. She’s not touching or anything, just hovering a few inches and God, he wants to kiss her.

Huh, that’s new.

“You didn’t fail and truthfully, I love me some Gabby, but she was wrong to make you feel like you’re…I don’t know, nothing?”

There’s a lingering question behind that confession. She’s not sure she’s reading his feelings right, but she’s nailing it. Somehow, she’s articulated everything he’s felt better than he could.

“You’re not nothing, Matt. If you ask anyone at 51, if you ask me…you’re pretty much everything there is.”

He’s shell shocked which doesn’t happen often. He’s good at reacting. He’s trained to be ready for anything, but he wasn’t ready for this.

For her.

She’s healing parts of him he didn’t even know were broken with her kindness and consideration. She didn’t have to leave a date to ease his pain, but she did.

She knew he’d need to hear it before he even did.

She’s standing in his door in a strapless dress that pushes up her boobs saying things he’s never heard from anyone. He’s not leering at her, of course, but he’s human. He spares a few glances since she’s so close.

He’s also only been Matt tonight. She hasn’t called him Casey once. Somehow, he’s hearing his first name from her more than ever and he quite appreciates the change.

Matt brings his hand to her bare arm, brushing his palm down her skin. “Thank you, Sylvie.”

He knows he should pull his hand away from her soft skin. A normal shoulder squeeze is one thing, but this lingering grip is another. He traces his thumb around a freckle on her forearm.

Her skin erupts in little goose bumps and he figures she’s probably freezing her ass off in that dress. “Do you wanna come in? I can get you a sweatshirt or something.”

She looks at her heels before gently easing out of his grip. When she replies, she looks anywhere other than at him. “No, that’s okay. I better go home before Foster goes on a manhunt for the guy who took me out. I told her I’d be home by now.”

Right. It’s probably best she doesn’t cross the threshold. He’s afraid of what he’ll do with a few beers in his system and her looking like that.

She’s sweet, kind and so empathetic while he’s just a mess.

“Yeah, good call. Foster with a pitchfork and torch is a scary thought,” he comments.

She laughs, wrinkling her nose. “You make a very good point.” She swipes some hair away from her face. “I’ll see you on shift, Casey.”

Casey again. It feels like the shift is definitely intentional. She’s creating distance.

He nods, moving all the way back into his apartment. “On shift.”

She waves and he unapologetically watches her walk down the hall. Once she turns the corner, he shuts the door.

#brettsey #sylkiddsey-prompts #the name shift is so important to me #this was written before It’s Golden so some lines are similar #I’m working on the lovely prompts #i would expect more posts on here instead of full length works #posting here because why not #someone might like these lol

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purplypastel · 3 months

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#aftershow #after the banter #brett register #owen carter #podcast #talkin banter #thoughts

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justinspoliticalcorner · 1 month

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Christopher Wiggins at The Advocate:

Do No Harm, a nonprofit organization established in 2022 to combat what it calls ”wokeism” in medicine, has quickly emerged as a formidable force in the anti-transgender movement. With substantial financial backing from a conservative network led by conservative legal operative Leonard Leo, the group has focused on opposing gender-affirming care, posing a significant threat to the LGBTQ+ community. But what is the group really up to? Leo, a key figure in the conservative legal movement, is known for his instrumental role in shaping the U.S. Supreme Court’s conservative supermajority. According to ProPublica, Leo built the machine that remade the American legal system, advising former President Donald Trump on the nominations of now-justices Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett. He previously helped pick or confirm the court’s three other conservative justices: Clarence Thomas, John Roberts, and Samuel Alito. Leo’s influence extends beyond the judiciary, as he now channels considerable resources into various conservative causes, including Do No Harm.

Leo’s machine extended to influencing state-level judicial appointments and elections, utilizing groups like the Judicial Crisis Network to fund campaigns and advertisements supporting conservative candidates. This meticulous planning ensured a pipeline of conservative judges who shared Leo’s ideological commitments, significantly altering the judicial landscape in the United States, ProPublica reports. In its brief existence, Do No Harm has already crafted model legislation to restrict gender-affirming care, which has been enacted in at least two states. According to an Accountable for Equality report, Do No Harm established a political lobbying arm, registering to lobby in nine states. This rapid expansion and legislative impact underscore the group’s potential to influence national policy on transgender rights.

Do No Harm shares staff, contractors, and legal advisors with organizations controlled and funded by Leo. According to public records, the group has received $3 million from Leo’s network, which includes substantial contributions from Chicago billionaire Barre Seid, who donates to right-wing causes, Accountable for Equality reports. This funding has enabled Do No Harm to employ nearly two dozen employees and fellows, including influential anti-trans activist and detransitioner Chloe Cole. Cole, who identified as a boy, transitioned at age 12 and detransitioned at 17. The 20-year-old now advocates against gender-affirming care. The rise of Do No Harm represents a new chapter in the conservative movement’s ongoing efforts to influence American politics and policy. An Accountable for Equality staffer emphasized that Leo’s involvement in this anti-transgender agenda is particularly alarming, as it weaponizes health care decisions that should remain between patients and their doctors.

Gender-affirming care, which includes medical and psychosocial interventions designed to affirm individuals’ gender identities, is well-documented to improve the mental health and overall well-being of transgender and nonbinary youth. Research from Columbia University and other institutions has shown that such care reduces rates of anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation among transgender youth. However, Do No Harm and its legislative efforts threaten to undermine these benefits by restricting access to essential medical treatments. Do No Harm has put forward several documents that support its legislative and advocacy efforts, often prepared by affiliated law firms. One such document is the Justice for Adolescent and Child Transitioners Act” (also known as the JUST FACTs Act). The white paper argues against gender-affirming care by claiming a lack of reliable scientific evidence and highlighting perceived risks associated with treatments like puberty blockers and hormone therapy. The document provides a framework for proposed legislation to prohibit these treatments and mandates transparency and reporting requirements for schools regarding students with gender discordance.

Do No Harm, an anti-trans organization that has significant funding from right-wing dark money baron Leonard Leo, is a major threat to transgender rights, especially trans youth.

#Do No Harm #Leonard Leo #Barre Seid #Transgender #Judicial Crisis Network #Chloe Cole #Gender Affirming Care #Gender Affirming Healthcare #Transgender Health #Transgender Rights

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kp777 · 8 months

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By Brett Wilkins

Common Dreams

Feb. 5, 2024

"Forty-seven percent of the voters are poor or low-wage," said one activist. "Getting that vote in is very important."

The Poor People's Campaign on Monday launched a 42-week nationwide mobilization of poor and low-income Americans to "wake the sleeping giant" of a voting bloc with the potential to determine the outcome of the 2024 elections.

"It is time for a resurrection and not an insurrection," Poor People's Campaign co-chair Rev. Dr. William Barber II said during a press conference in Washington, D.C. "We must engage poor and low-wealth people to change the political landscape."

"For far too long extremists have blamed poor people and low-wage people for their plight, while moderates too often have ignored poor people, appealing instead to the so-called middle class," he continued. "Meanwhile, poor and low-income people have become nearly half of this country and we are here today to make one thing clear: Poor and low-wage brothers and sisters have the power to determine and decide the 2024 elections and elections beyond."

"Economic justice and saving this democracy are deeply connected."

Poor People's Campaign co-chair Rev. Dr. Liz Theoharis stressed that "economic justice and saving this democracy are deeply connected."

"In this rich nation that has the wherewithal to end poverty tomorrow where there's the political will, we must not overlook the voices and votes of poor and low-income people," she added. "We are mobilizing and organizing, registering and educating people for a movement that votes... for healthcare and debt cancellation. Votes for living wages and strong anti-poverty programs. Votes for fair taxes and demilitarization of our communities and our world. Votes for immigrant rights and more."

Democratic pollster Celinda Lake said at the press conference: "In 2024, the election is going to be about mobilization... Democrats have an enthusiasm gap today and the progressive alliance and Democrats have fissures within their constituencies that make getting out the vote even more important."

"The biggest bloc of potential voters by far is low-income, low-wage voters," Lake noted. "Where the margin of victory is projected to be less than 3% in 2024, 30-45% of the voters are low-wage voters or low-income families... The turnout among low-wage voters and low-income voters today is... 20-22% below the average turnout. This is a huge bloc of voters, and it is a bloc of voters that votes 58-60%—at minimum—progressive, no matter how conservative the state."

"You're talking about a huge number—a game-changing number—of voters," she added.

The campaign's main scheduled events are a Mass Poor People's & Low-Wage Workers' Moral March to State House Assemblies on March 2 and a rally and march in Washington, D.C. on June 15.

"I have been struggling to pay my bills since I've been working at 16 years old. I work full time, 64 hours a week, seven days a week," said Beth Schafer of Raise Up for $15 during a video promoting the new campaign. "I am exhausted."

Crow Roberts, an organizer with the Indiana Poor People's Campaign, said in the video that "our government finds it necessary to ban abortion to say that they are saving our children, but more children die as a result of poverty in this country."

Guadalupe de la Cruz of the Florida Poor People's Campaign asserted that "we should not be cornered and forced to choose between one necessity or another."

Speaking at the press conference, Alabama activist Linda Burns said that "for three years I worked the assembly line at Amazon in Bessemer, Alabama. The work was grueling. We were expected to work like robots, moving like 1,000 pieces per hour."

"I got badly injured. My left arm," she continued. "I had two surgeries. I had to get a third surgery, but I didn't have no more insurance. Amazon, they cut my insurance off a year after. They let me go last October."

"Amazon let me go because I was helping organize the union," said Burns. "We didn't get the union in Alabama but I'm gonna do everything in my power to stand in solidarity. Organizing the union showed me just how many people were in the same situation I was. Not just in Alabama, but all over the world."

"Forty-seven percent of the voters are poor or low-wage. Getting that vote in is very important," she added. "We cannot settle for less, we've got to stand up for our rights. We are forward together—not one step back."

#poor peoples campaign #democracy #2024 elections #william barber #liz theoharis #poverty

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skepticalarrie · 2 years

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Why are you so convinced Freddie isn’t his kid? I’m not sending hate in just new and curious. Like is it all the weird stuff surrounding the mum or is it more because of Larry

Hey there, anon! Larry is definitely not one of the main reasons. Although, of course, it could be the cause of babygate and it really justifies a lot when put things in perspective. But yeah, it's definitely the weird stuff. Freddie wouldn't be his kid regardless of larry or Louis' sexuality. I have *a lot* of stuff about it on my blog, and the best way for you to understand it is to really dig up on these posts. I think it's impossible to try to sum things up in just one post, but here are the main reasons for me:

FORESHADOWING AND TIMELINES: It never made sense from day one, from the "conception day" being completely covered by The Sun, to the announcement happening too early in the pregnancy, her family registering DOMAINS the minute the pregnancy was announced, her mother following baby stuff even before she was supposed to be pregnant, etc etc etc

FAKE PREGNANCY: Bump changing sizes constantly, sometimes disappearing completely, using pregnant pictures from another woman, acting like she was never pregnant days after giving birth - flat belly, wearing leggings, heels, skirts, lifting heavy objects, drinking alcohol....

REAL PARENTHOOD: The kid looks just like Brett Clark and his entire side of the family. They're not supposed to be blood-related.

PHOTOSHOPPED: Louis' pictures were literally photoshopped on top of Freddie's pictures for years.

NO PATERNITY TEST: A multimillionaire boybander knocked this non-famous girl pregnant, which he was not dating, and never asked for a paternity test. He just knows the kid is his. No one advised him to get it either, everyone just trusts her. It's absurd.

NO CUSTODY: Up until 2020, it was crystal clear Louis didn't have custody of Freddie. No full custody, no joint custody, no overnights, he didn't even have a house in California and he was certainly never there, F was in the UK only twice (the first one when he was a baby and the second one on Christmas last year).

And I would add the tags LOUIS X BABYGATE and RBBSBB X BABYGATE in there as well. Although this gets into Larry a little bit. But Louis' behaviour about it always spoke volumes, before he decided to play along for whatever reason.

Plus, I suggest you go through my BABYGATE MASTERPOSTS and BABYGATE RESOURCES tags for everything else. Good luck!

#ask #i have a very similar post #but almost all the links are broken or are from wayback machine #so i thought it was time for an update on that #babygate masterpost #babygate #babygate resources #for beginners

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goodboyyyy · 2 years

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By request 😉

You'd always been skinny for your age, but recently you'd been trying to bulk up. There was a cute Asian girl you liked, and even though you'd brought her flowers and taken her on a few dates, you weren't sure if she was interested in you. You knew her family was pretty traditional and preferred she dated Asian guys- her three other sisters were dating huge, ripped Asian dudes- so you thought working out might make up for it. You didn't want to hound or bother her- you weren't a fuckboy like that.

You ran into her older brother one day at the gym.

You got to talking and he offered to start giving you some pointers and training you. You accepted- his body was awesome, after all. He was kind of an annoying douchebro- all he talked about was lifting, not being a pussy, getting pussy- all kinds of dumb disrespectful stuff. You never understood how guys like this always had girlfriends- but you saw pretty good gains with his help over a few weeks so you kept at it.

One day after you were done he invited you to grab some food. You stopped at a dumplings spot next to the gym. He said he knew the owner so you guys got to eat for free. That was cool. He ordered and asked for extra sauce. It was almost like he'd nodded his head over at you when he asked.

You dug in, exhausted from your workout. The dumplings tasted great, and the sauce was amazing too. The more you ate it, the more you wanted it. You finished it after eating only two or three dumplings and asked for more. He just smirked at you, and bought another two over which you quickly devoured. You had so much energy suddenly, like your body was pulsating with it.

"Dude, do you wanna hit the gym again? Just a few extra reps," you asked.

"I think that sounds like a great idea man."

You walked back in and it was odd- it seemed like everything had shrunk a little. You didn't realize it was because some things about you were slowly changing after your meal- like how you were slowly getting taller, thicker, dumber, and how your features were changing- skin becoming more bronzed- hair thinner and shorter- your mind was on one thing- lifting. You started on the cable machine. The usual weight you did was suddenly very light to you.

"Because that's some pussy lightweight shit," you said with a chuckle.

"Wait- why did I think that?"

Before you could think about it more he nodded at you, increasing the weight. "Just start lifting bro. This is gonna be the best workout of your life Brett."

"Fuck yeah man," you said, getting to work. Something felt different about this workout- like you could feel every muscle pulsing and swelling. You grunted, sweat leaking from your pits. Every pump accelerated the changes. Your features became more Asian as your body became more ripped. Everything got even smaller as you got bigger, taller, broader. Your hair grew longer in some spots, receded in others, turning into a nice fade. Part of you was registering the changes, confused, trying to hold on to your old self- but your mind was changing as quickly as your body, telling you you looked better this way, that this was how you'd always been. Lifting. Eating. Hanging with your bros. Fucking. That was your life. The old you was slowly being erased, replaced by an Asian muscle fuckboy- and you couldn't stop it, you didn't even want to stop it.

"Looking good bro," he said in front of you proudly after your first set, leading you over to the mirror. A ripped Asian guy was staring back at you. You were almost confused, but this was who you were- you'd always been this way. You'd spent hours building this body, bruh. Tons of lat raises and pressed for these capped shoulders, hundreds of bench presses and curls to get these defined, bulging pecs and arms. Memories of all the years in the gym filled you. "That sauce gives a great pump, doesn't it? Let's go do the next set and make this official, Peng."

"Fuck yeah bro," you said dumbly, responding to your new name- wait, new? No, this had always been your name. More memories overwrote everything that had been Brett. You were Peng, the ripped Asian fuckboy. You'd always been Peng. You loved being Peng, you thought as you strode over on your big, powerful legs and grabbed the cables again, lifting the full stack with ease now.

Whoever Brett was, he was weak. Peng was strong- a hulking virile beast. Why would you even want to be Brett? You felt the veins popping in your neck, felt the sense of masculine superiority that came with being the alpha that Peng was. Sweat started leaking out of you again, and what was left of Brett trickled out with it, leaking out of your pits and onto the gym floor. The transformation was complete. You were Peng now, and Peng loved getting some good pussy right after a workout. Sliding your huge Asian cock into a bitch was all you could think of. Your cock and balls had swelled along with you, pumping out ten times the amount of testosterone they had before. You'd be fucking a lot more now.

He led you back over to the mirror, inspecting you. "The best one yet. Now you'll be perfect for my sister. Lets head home, bruh," he said.

You got to his house and his sister didn't even recognize you. She had no idea you used to be Brett= you were just Peng, now. That was all you'd ever been. She played coy at first, but by the end of the night, she was wrapped around your dick, grinding against it dutifully while you lay sprawled out on her bed with your big arms stretched overhead, showing off your biceps and shoulders. You smiled cockily as her moans filled the room and her long, painted nails dug into you. She had been your dream girl- you'd felt lucky that she'd even looked at you before- and now she was bouncing on your cock, begging you to cum in her as she climaxed over and over again.

Damn, it was good to be a man.

#jockification #asian jock #asian muscle #asian hunk #jock transformation #asian transformation

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ryutarotakedown · 11 months

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(i'm cross-posting my yuri shipping olympics pieces from dreamwidth so. have a susahao modern AU in these trying times?)

Prompt (from @transathenacykes): The dramatic de-masking of a superhero, and their loved one finding out who they are.

Haori hesitated, hovering above the other person's face. "I… Ryutaro, I'd like to take your mask off. To treat the burn wounds."

She'd expected resistance, expected words of protest. Most superheroes she'd treated had come around in the end, and the ones who didn't she acquiesced to. Haori firmly believed that all medical assistance had to be done with consent, after all. It would be fine if Ryutaro insisted on keeping his mask.

She didn't expect Ryutaro to make a sound like he was wounded. On the examination table he curled in on himself, turning away from Haori, as though her words had burned him more than the fire he'd run into.

"It's fine if you don't want to," Haori placated, "I understand—"

Ryutaro shook his head quickly. "That's not it." And oh — they were the first words he'd spoken since Haori had dragged him to her makeshift clinic, silent and trembling. Ryutaro didn't have his usual voice, Haori realized. He had a higher register, a more lilting way of speech, that she could detect even under the layers of rough disuse. He must have been disguising it with that vocal technology that had fallen off during the rescue.

It was a familiar voice. Someone she'd heard on the news? No, that didn't seem right…

"I need you to not — you can't be scared off, okay, Haori?" Was that fear? But why would a hero of Japan be afraid of some medical intern? "Please," Ryutaro said. "Don't — you have to promise."

"I promise," Haori said immediately. This had happened before, after all. Some vigilantes were ashamed of their true face, whether because of some perceived flaw with their appearance or because their everyday identity was well-known for other reasons. Haori was fairly good at keeping calm even in the most extreme scenarios by now.

But none of them had said her name like that. Like they… knew her somehow…

Wait.

"You're," Haori started, before falling silent as Ryutaro reached up to unclasp his mask —

And then there he was. There she was, staring back at her with those infinitely dark, familiar eyes.

Susato Mikotoba.

Her best friend.

"Su," Haori breathed.

Susato winced. That piercing gaze of hers fell from Haori's face to the floor. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

Haori’s mind was rapidly running through every time she had met Ryutaro. The hospital attack two months ago — pushing her into a supply closet and telling her to stay there, Murasame-san, don’t move before slipping back out into the fray. Later she would read about it in the newspaper — the first reported sighting of a new superhero, a silhouette wrapped in the classic Yuumei University cape who moved faster than a bolt of lightning, leaving his enemies unconscious with an impossibly fluid suplexing move. The media called it a Ryutaro Takedown.

And then the beach. That improbably swan-headed sea monster rising from the depths and fixing its gaze on her and Dr. Mikotoba, and she had frozen for half a second before Ryutaro was shoving them both out of the way. "Hao—Murasame-san, why are you here?" he'd said into her ear, a whisper that almost verged on panic.

"I, I thought Ms. Brett might have been up to something," she'd whispered back, watching in awe as electricity started to course on the surface of Ryutaro's gloves. He must have upgraded his suit in the time after the last attack…

Ryutaro sighed. "It looks like you were right. Don't let her see you, okay?" And before Haori could reply he was off, and soon the swan monster had been bound in a net and handed off to the authorities, and Ryutaro was gone.

The attacks had been growing in frequency lately, despite Minister Jigoku's reassurances. Haori didn't know how many times she'd seen a familiar silhouette darting past her in an alleyway and breathed easier. She had always known, somewhere in her irrational romantic heart, that Ryutaro would have her back.

And Susato…

Susato, who had grown more and more distant these past few weeks. Susato, who'd canceled every single movie night Haori tried to schedule, I'm really sorry, Haori-sama, something's come up — by the way, you still have that two-to-five shift at Father's hospital tomorrow, don't you? Susato who just yesterday had been sitting on the edge of Haori's bed and looking out the window while Haori demanded to know who had injured her knee so badly, because if she knew anything about her best friend it was that Su was never careless. Averting her gaze, the same way Ryutaro was doing on the examination table right now.

Because they were the same person.

Oh. Oh.

"I couldn't," Susato was saying, while Haori tried to claw her way out of her own stupor. "It would have put you and Father in danger, I wanted to tell you, Haori, I swear—"

"Susato," said Haori, and put her hand over the knee she knew she'd patched up yesterday. "It's okay."

Susato blinked. "It is?"

Haori fought down the hysterical scream that was building in her throat. "It's — we can talk about it later — your face, Su, I think you might have third-degree burns—"

Susato actually laughed at that. A short laugh laced with pain, but nonetheless. "I always wished I could have asked you about this mask. It's rather not up to safety regulations, is it?"

"I will make you a new one," Haori said fervently. "It's going to be so gallant and dashing and breathable, you'll sweep people off your feet every time, Su—" A thought occurred to her. "Wait, you're… still okay with me calling you Su, right?"

"Haori, I'll always be okay with you," said Susato, with that straight face she used whenever she delivered something absolutely devastating to Haori's heart.

"I, I, I mean! Would you want me to use, um, he/him for you?" Heat was rising to Haori's face. Now was not the appropriate time to be reminded of her embarrassing pseudo-crush on her best friend, God help her—

"Oh," Susato said in realization. "I, ah, this is not the time I expected to have this conversation — er. She or he are both fine. It's called being bigender, I don't know if you've heard of it…"

Haori hadn't, but that was okay. She would look it up later. "I can alternate if you want?" Relief flooded Susato's face, and he nodded before wincing again — oh God, right, the injuries — Haori took a deep breath. Medical mode time. "Okay, I'm going to get salve. Don't move."

She located the little jar of petroleum jelly quickly and dragged a stool over to the side of the table. "This might hurt," she warned, dipping a fingertip in.

"Can't possibly hurt more," Susato mumbled, before hissing through her teeth as Haori touched her cheek.

Haori went slowly, carefully. Probably more careful than she needed to be, but this was Susato. Haori distinctly remembered having told him yesterday to take it easy on that knee, and today Ryutaro had run directly into a burning building.

God, Haori had been so close to losing her — and she hadn't even realized —

Susato reached and took her hand.

Haori startled, looking down at him. Susato quirked a smile. "It's okay. You don't have to worry about me."

"I do," Haori murmured, focusing harder on applying the jelly. She wasn't sure what she would look like now, if she met Susato's eyes. "I really, really do."

"I'm not going to stop being Ryutaro," Susato said quietly. "It would be — a lot of work."

"Not if it's you," Haori shot back, faster than her brain could warn her not to, and her voice cracked. Oh no, was she going to cry? She was definitely going to later, but not now please not now. "You're my best friend, Su, I don't know what I'd do if I…"

"I know," Susato whispered. Her hand was so cold in Haori's. "I know."

Haori squeezed her eyes shut.

One day she would tell Susato. One day she would confess how beautiful she thought Susato looked lying in the light streaming in from the windows. One day, she would tell Susato everything.

But not today.

#this is like. probably ridiculously out of character diction because i did not reread the transcripts first #but! i had fun! and thats what counts!!!!! [< said through gritted teeth]#susato mikotoba #haori murasame #rei membami #susahao #susarei #g: ace attorney #jules.txt #scribbling

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